Thread: Desire to Live  Strmas and LingeringDesire

How did Rome come to this? muttered Atticus Icilius , talking more to himself than the lovely woman he escorted as they hurried across the Forum. Despite the warm weather, they both wore hooded non-descript cloaks to help shield their identity from the numerous prying eyes that occupied the Forum. The dying rays of the afternoon sun painted the paving stones blood red and cast long, menacing shadows. Quickening his pace he averted his eyes and prayed that Nefeli did the same. Once the proud symbol of Rome's might with the beaks of captured ships adorning the Rostrum, the speaker's platform now exhibited quite different collection of trophies. Severed heads planted on rows of tall spikes encircled the platform. Some of the heads had been on display for months and were little more than skulls, others still dripped blood and looked out to the onlookers with gaping mouths and wide open eyes. The first victims to appear on the Rostrum, shocking as it had been, were at least understandable, they were the allies of Marius who had fought against Sulla in the bloody civil war but lately the victims seemed to be mere petty vendettas by Sulla against people he disliked rather than people who might be an actual political or military threat against him. Atticus turned away from the Rostrum and hurried Nefeli on until they came to the wall where a minion of Sulla was adding another list of the damned to the wall. They always waited until the end of the day to post their horrors, less time for the grim scavengers to wait to do their accursed work, even in these dark days, scum preferred to work in the shadows of the night. He should have never agreed to the young woman coming, he thought. He almost laughed at that thought, as if Nefeli could be talked out of any action once her mind were set. She was her father's daughter, he thought, may his soul rest in peace. A group of men and women had gathered to read the latest lists. It was a strange mixture of people, one group, almost evenly mixed between men and women, grim, in obvious fear huddled together as they read the lists. The other group, all men, some drunk, reveled in a party mood. The first group fearfully read the lists, some sighed with relief, a few wept in despair. The first group kept their faces covered, as did Atticus and Nefeli. Atticus signaled for Nefeli to wait and then pushed his way through the crowd to scan the lists. The name that Atticus feared to see was not there, at least not today, for the moment his patron's family was safe. A man behind him leaned forward and stared at the list over Atticus's shoulder and pointed at the list, Why I could swear that reads Atticus Icilius, the man boomed in a loud voice. There was little chance of that Atticus knew, he was a simple common man who served a once great family, Sulla would not know the likes of Atticus even existed but the fear was real because with Sulla what could any man really know? He twisted about, heart pounding and looked at the man, he was a casual acquaintance, a freedman who worked for a neighbor of Atticus's patron. An oaf and a drunk. He saw the look on Atticus's face and let out a drunken laugh. I was only joking, he said as several of his drunken friends burst out laughing. Well, it's not funny, Atticus fumed, If someone overheard your 'joke', I could have been killed where I stand! This just made the men laugh all the harder, Atticus shook his head in disgust and hurried back to Nefeli. We're safe, 'tonight', he said with some of the anger still seeping into his voice. Don't worry about those buffoons, he said gesturing to the drunken group, let's hurry home maybe there is yet time to find a way out, the tone of his voice revealed he had very little hope of that.