Chapter 28: Romulus and Remus
The usually bustling activity of the camp slowed to a more sedate pace as Twilight's dim embrace fell over it. Night joined them shortly after, her thick blanket studded by the orderly pinpricks of firelight that slowly sprouted into existence as Legionnaires gathered among their tents. From afar, the regularly spaced campfires almost seemed to mirror the gridlike arrangement of the stars above. Gentle curls of smoke and companionable conversation drifted skyward as they settled in for an evening of rest.
Gathered around one of those campfires sat a slightly larger group than the rest. Their armored plates and helmets lay nearby, discarded for the moment but ready to be recovered at a moment's notice. They leaned forward with rapt attention from their perches atop stumps and small camp chairs.
Marcus sat alongside them, resting his chin on one hand. For once, the bard found himself in the rare position of an audience member rather than a performer. That honor belonged to Cassius. The man's dark eyes scanned the circle of his comrades, ensuring he had their full attention before opening his mouth.
"Gather round and listen well. For many of us have lived and breathed the legacy of Rome. But how many recall the story of its founding?"
The men leaned forward a little further as the stout man began his tale. Marcus had finally found the time to stay late around the fire and listen to the stories of the Romans. It wasn't just a matter of fulfilling his own personal curiosity, either. It also served as a great opportunity for him to learn about their culture as well.
Over the recent days he'd spent no small amount of time reading through the leatherbound tome that had once held the Rites for the Summoning of a Roman Legion spell. Unfortunately, its contents appeared just as dusty and dry as its pages. Treatises on philosophy and historical records clearly written by someone with no eye for storytelling made the text feel more like reading a clerk's legalese than anything remotely interesting—even despite Marcus's rather immediate and direct interest in learning about these men. He had managed to retain some basic facts about the faraway country that these men seemed to hail from, but things like their values and attitudes remained frustratingly obtuse.
Of course, Marcus had always learned better from practical experience than from tomes and study. His interactions with the Roman Legionnaires had imparted more knowledge to him than a book could ever hope to. And given that stories were his trade, he felt confident that their legends and folk tales would offer the same. People often underestimated how much those could impart about a culture and its ideals, even simple ones.
This particular story was that of Romulus and Remus, the two brothers who founded Rome—or so he had been told. He knew that Rome was the name of the country the Legion hailed from. But where that was, or how important a role it held among its neighbors, was still something he had yet to figure out. The way the men talked about it made the place seem like the center of the world, the pinnacle of civilization, but Marcus knew better than to take such impressions at their word. Still, any verification one way or the other may well be impossible, given that the place certainly existed in a different world.
Cassius raised his hands, gesturing dramatically. "Nearly a thousand years ago, before even the greatest of our ancestors were but a twinkle in their great-grandparents' eyes, there were born two brothers. Romulus and Remus. Alba Longa was the place where they were born, though neither would call it their home. Yet though we celebrate them now, these two brothers were not meant to be born. No, their birth was forbidden—illegal, downright heretical.