Domain of Power-The Dreamer (Book 3)

Chapter 29: Eulogy

I clung to the parchment Odydus written as if it would blow into the wind. Knowing my luck, I expected the worst. But the rustling breeze from before was now a faint whisper, bringing little relief as beads of sweat rolled down my back. I looked at my brothers, whose steps I was trying to match. I wish Odydus could join us in our procession that spilled onto the cobblestone road leading to Apathia. And I knew if he was not stuck watching the slaves at home, he would be marching with us. But he told me the speech was not for him to give. He already knew I would make Grandfather proud of my words. If only I had his confidence.

Both the male and female singers, along with the skilled musicians, filled the long, silent march with their dirges. But one repeating chorus from the female singers sounded familiar. Even though I could not remember why.

I will come.

I will come for you.

Follow me to the end of time.

Where the fields bloom blue and gold.

They remind me of you.

Then the music stopped. Why were we not moving?

I crept past the six men, their strained muscles bunching beneath the weight of Grandfather's polished bier, to find my father's chariot, glistening in the sun. It had stopped abruptly, its wheels crunching the unforgiving patchwork of stones. We stood quietly beneath the towering arches that connected the two tallest temples. Just then, a family with young children in tow darted past us through the colonnaded entrance. With bated breath, we waited until Cornelius gave the salute, motioning the chariot wheels to spin again.

Entering the Forum, a sea of faces turned towards us as sentinels barked at the crowds to clear a path. Our procession drew the gaze of thousands as we circled the stone sundial at the center of the courtyard before marching north to the marble platform that spanned the width of the Basilica's base.

Scattered among the sea of strangers were familiar faces, like the Aurelius family, now joined by Lydia and her growing belly. Today, she looked more somber. But there was no sign of Priscilla.

Barbarius nudged me before placing his arms back on his side as if nothing had happened.

Keep moving.

I could hear Father's stern voice echo in my head the moment I lost focus. Once we got to the marble platform, or rostra as many called it, we could finally place the bier on the ground to allow onlookers to gawk at his pale body draped in purple and gold cloth.

Amid the buzz of voices, Apollus' attendant and body slave handed him a rolled-up sheet of parchment. For someone who boasted about his speech, he was staring at it awfully long time.

"This was much easier rehearsing this in my room!" Apollus muttered under his breath.

"That is a first coming from you," Barbarius remarked dryly.

I turned to Apollus. "You will do well. You always do."

Apollus forced a grin. "Thanks for the kind words." He stole a glance at the parchment I was holding. "It looks like you are ready to give a speech yourself."

I sighed. "I hardly feel ready."

"Just read the words Odydus wrote. You cannot make a mistake reading what is on the page," he replied.

I looked up at Barbarius, who had no parchment in his hand. I suppose he had memorized his speech. As I unraveled my parchment to study the words Odydus wrote for me, someone tapped me on the shoulder. I looked up to find it was Marcus. After apologizing for startling me, he asked me how I was faring, and the best I could muster for a response was, "Coping."