Descendants of Rome (#3 in Gladiator Series)

Chapter 31

Chapter 31

Polonius did not wish to do this, but he must. Rome, and her future, depended on him.

Pouring melted wax over the joining of his letter, Polonius pressed his seal into the crimson candlewax, watching it dry.

As it crusted atop the parchment, Polonius felt as if their fate had been sealed along with the message that rested inside it.

Gathering it up gently, Polonius carried it across the tent to his trusted messenger who waited patiently.

"Take this to the Emperor," Polonius placed the letter in his hand, "It is of vital importance that this reaches him."

"I shall guard it with my life," The man bowed his head and exited the tent.

Polonius followed him out and watched as he jump into his horse's saddle, galloping off down between the tents.

The General watched him leave and whispered to the sky, "Gods speed."

* * *

Lazarus took his bowl of much needed nourishment into the hospice, his restless mind needing to be settled that Marcia was still there.

As he reached the bottom of the stairs, Lazarus leant against the wood panelled archway and leaned in, watching the passing nurses and patients.

His eyes fell upon Marcia at the back and felt his mind calm itself.

Remaining there for a while longer, Lazarus took a few moments to chow down on the thick porridge before it cemented in his bowl.

He would gaze around the room at the various equipment and methods but he always found his way back to looking upon Marcia.

Her back was to him and she did not know he was there. Lazarus liked that as it allowed him to see a side of her that she did not show; the sensitive, caring side that he knew she had.

Her blonde hair had been washed, the knots, blood and mud, brushed from her thick mane until it ran down her back in soft waves once more.

With every second she was becoming more like herself once again.

Lazarus was caught up in his thoughts that he did not notice his father stood behind him until his hand squeezed Lazarus's shoulder.

Lazarus stood straight as he looked back and smiled at his father.

"She's special, isn't she?" Artorius smiled at his son.

Lazarus shook his head, "What are you doing, father?"

Artorius dropped his hand and leant against the archway opposite him until they were facing each other, "I know you are quite taken with Andromeda back home in Greece."

Lazarus looked away as he said her name. His skin warmed but not from desire, from guilt. Lazarus had not thought of Andromeda for a while.

"She is a beautiful girl, but Marcia . . . Marcia is one of a kind. You would be stupid to let that slip away."

Lazarus shook his head, feeling awkward as they spoke of it.

"I know you do not wish to hear it, but indulge your old father."

"You're not old," Lazarus sighed as he heard his papa say it.

Artorius thanked him for his words, "But I regret not speaking to you more about this, or about how your mother and I met."