Empire Of The Undead Read Online Free Page A

others.”
    “It’s big,” Plautius, beside him, agreed, “but to what point?  This is my first visit to the city, but even I know of the Circus Maximus, the Theater of Marcellus, and the Theater of Pompey. Do they not have games enough in Rome?”
    “Ah, to be so naive,” Rufus said. “His family is new to Imperial power, and he wants to be another Augustus. This monument will speak to his glory for all time.”
    And mine, he added mentally. There was no doubt that Vespasian would need him to oversee this construction. The job required a capable man, and there were none better at building than Rufus. Even better, his outsider status could aid him, as he stood outside the labyrinth of alliances affecting the Senators who had long been in the city. Rufus got back into his coach, his mind spinning at the ways he could turn this to his advantage.
    ****
     
    He stared at the Emperor in shock, in disbelief at what he had just heard. A close look at the man before him revealed that Vespasian had aged, though his hawk-like features were as intense as ever. Rufus was still weary from the voyage, but the Emperor had wanted to meet with him immediately, and the former soldier was not one hung up on formality.
    Rufus had quickly washed and changed. They were in a small room, with only a few servants and his son, Domitian. The younger man was wearing his consular cape. So, Rufus thought, he was one of the consuls this year, a clear sign of Vespasian’s favor. His brother, Titus, and Vespasian himself had been consuls the previous year. As a second son, Domitian held several honorary titles as well as several priesthoods, though he did very little in practice.
    “Have you forgotten common courtesies during your time away from court, Gaius Rufus?  In Rome, we do not gape like gasping fish,” the Emperor said. His eyes were nearly as sharp as his nose.
    “To the war front?  Past the Rhine and Main?  Emperor, I must confess I was somewhat looking forward to the comforts of Rome.”
    “True happiness is to understand our duties toward God and man, and to enjoy the present, without anxious dependence on the future. Not to amuse ourselves with either hopes or fears, but to rest satisfied with what we have, which is abundantly sufficient,” Vespasian said. He was quoting Seneca, a man Rufus had known quite well.
    “I know that, of course, and I can sympathize with Seneca.” Like Rufus, Seneca had been exiled for years on a small island. “But my skills would be wasted on the war front. I’m no warrior. You’ve heard of my island sculptures, my statues, and of course, you've seen what I have built here in Rome. I thought I might better serve the Eternal City in that capacity.”  This was unfortunately unsubtle, but the pace of events had shattered his normal equanimity.
    “Your talents for organization are also useful in war. I’ve long wanted to restore order to our defenses on the Danube. It’s not glamorous, but you’re suited to it. You’ll be far from the sea, as long as you perform ably, of course,” Vespasian said. “And my son will be capable of leading the building.”  Rufus glanced to Domitian. The man seemed as uncomfortable as Rufus, but he said nothing.
    “Gratias, Emperor,” Rufus said.  There was nothing else to say. He felt numb. It was exile of a different nature. This one might be dressed in prettier cloth, but the package was one he understood all too well. “I live to serve.”
    ****
     
    “What do you think of this place?” Rufus asked Plautius. The lanky man had accompanied the Senator to his chambers. Rufus sent away for a slave woman and turned to face his aid.
    “It’s large,” Plautius said simply.
    “Yes it is,” Rufus said, laughing a bit at the other man’s taciturnity. “Yes it is. It’s a pity you cannot see it for long.”
    Plautius had not been in attendance with Vespasian, but Rufus had already told him about what had happened.
    “Yes,” Plautius said, “though the