The Family Man

Chapter 21

35 BC

Aigla smiled as she walked from the bath. She enjoyed her lot in life, the one built by her hero of a husband. Though her body showed her age and the birthing of four children, he looked no older than when she first met him. She would have preferred a larger family, but it was not to be. Not since his rise to fame after a mission for Caesar himself. Four children, well married, was happiness enough.

The other senator's wives were jealous. And why shouldn't they be? Marcius had the ear of Caesar and the backing of the people. She took much of the credit for keeping him young. Her smile grew as she remembered last night. Other husbands get bored and strayed. Marcius' interest lay in one woman, and she did everything to make sure it stayed there. It was a bonus that it kept her young on the inside as well. The smile that man could put on her face. A chuckle escaped her lips.

Aigla moved into the bedroom, her mind on the midday meal. She never saw the man standing calmly behind the pillar. He wasn't built as slim as most city born. Bulkier, like a warrior. His hair was trimmed neatly as if he were of money, or worked for such. His clothes were nondescript, not much different than you'd find on a street vendor.

Aigla dropped her towel and lifted the dress she set out earlier. The man chose that moment to strike. Her vulnerability was as pleasing to him as her impending death.

"Call your husband," the man ordered with a strong accent. The knife at her throat dug in, drawing a thin red line.

"Marcius," Aigla called in barely a whisper. Her hands were trying helplessly to remove his arm, and thus the knife away from her skin.

"Louder!"

"Marcius," Aigla screamed. The man laughed at the panic he felt coursing through her naked body. It was all that he imagined. It was worth the years of waiting.

Marcius heard Aigla's call and recognized the panic in it. He came running, grabbing a sword off the wall as he moved through the house. He slowed when you saw her naked form in the arms of a smiling man and the knife at her throat.

"Harm her, and you'll die horribly," Marcius warned. He moved slowly forward looking for an opportunity. The man laughed and pulled the knife deeper against Aigla's throat. She gasped, trying to move backward and somehow lessen its depth. Marcius slowed his advance.

"Money, I have plenty. What do you want?" Marcius asked, shifting sideways away from the bed to afford a better attack angle.

"Her life, your children's lives, their children's lives. Will you give me those, Centurion?" the man asked, moving to keep Aigla between him and Marcius.

"Have I harmed you in some way?" Marcius asked, buying time to find a better angle.

"Me? No, you didn't harm me. I am the last. I am my tribe's vengeance," the man said, dragging the flat of the blade down between Aigla's breasts.

"Your argument is with me," Marcius said. Someday had come. The fragile boy was now a man, large and confident. Time had not weakened his desire. Marcius smiled at Aigla, trying to assure her. The fear in her eyes was more than he could bear. Marcius dropped his sword. "Let her be and take my life. It is a debt owed too long." He opened his arms, fingers spread in surrender.

"No Marcius," Aigla cried, leaning toward him. The Gaul pulled her back roughly, forcing air from her lungs.

"Let her go," Marcius begged, kicking his sword farther from his reach. "I'm the one you want."

"You only need to see," the Gaul said, and his smile grew. Marcius heart sunk as he saw the man's intent. He moved forward with all his speed, his eyes glued to the knife.

The blade dug into Aigla's belly. She screamed as the Gaul dragged it across her abdomen. Marcius died inside. He lunged, grabbing the hand that held the blade and tried to retract it, trying to undo what was done. Aigla's eyes rolled backward, and her insides began to flow from under her skin.

"No, no, no," Marcius cried, somehow forcing the blade from the Gaul's hand. It clattered on the floor. The man pushed Aigla into Marcius' arms.

"Your children and their children," The Gaul threatened as he backed away, wiping his bloody hand on his pants. Marcius laid Aigla on the ground, his front covered in blood. Screaming, he grabbed the blade near his feet and charged at the Gaul. His hand was knocked away, and the man ran.

"Marcius," Aigla cried. Marcius let the man go a second time and moved back to his wife. His stomach was knotting, his mind rejecting the idea of life without her. Desperately, he tried to close the wound with his hands. She lifted her head and tried to see him.

"Lie still," Marcius said as calmly as he could. The cut was too deep. There was as much damage inside as out.

"Let it be," Aigla moaned, pulling his hands away from her stomach.

"I did this to you," Marcius admitted, "I killed you, my love." Aigla pulled his bloody hands up to her chest, nestling them between her breasts.

"Our children. Is that man after our children?" Aigla whispered.

"Yes. I killed his family, his tribe," Marcius cried. Aigla shook her head.

"You will stop him!" Aigla said, blood leaking from her mouth. She coughed, splattering Marcius' clothes. Her grip tightened on his hands. "Promise me you will protect our babies."

"Yes, my love," Marcius said.

"Kill him!" Aigla demanded. Her eyes looking past Marcius, seeing things only the dying see.

"On my oath," Marcius vowed. Aigla's face calmed and an odd smile formed on her bloody lips.

"It was a good life," Aigla said, her breath trailing off.

"I love you," Marcius said as he leaned into her, trying to hold onto the closeness. Aigla eyes no longer held light, her lungs emptied for the last time. The servants heard a Roman war cry coming from the back of the house, the master's bedroom.

The next morning, a surprised Senate accepted a popular senator's resignation. Marcius Thracius scattered his family and went hunting.