A walk beneath the shade of Olive Trees

Humble Beginnings - Prologue

I know only the feel of the cobblestone which paves the roads i sleep on. I know only the pain of the bitter cold as i sleep and i know only the spit which is spat at me. I tuck myself close and press my eyes closer, dreaming of a reality that is far from my own. I am Cassius, and I am a bastard of no name.

It is 43 BC. Rome has conquered much of the known world as it does, and the Empire has been split into a triumvirate, the great general Mark Antony, Lepidus and Octavian himself share in its wealth.  There is almost a global silence, for tensions are high, and at some point soon, the tight rope will snap, and someone will fall.

For us, life has never been easy. We are the very bottom of the social class, we are the dregs in which all purity and wealth has been filtered to leave the undesired. Most of us make a living from being merchants, sacrificing our freedom to the Army or for the women, prostitution. We are as much apart of this society as the footstools the patricians rest themselves upon.

But this is not a story of Rome's history, nor is it a story of a happy ending. This story serves only to show what my life was and the world i was a part of - it is not pretty, there is little room for happiness.

I was born on a small plot of land, far away from the lights of civilisation. Though i cannot remember where exactly, I do remember my fathers gristly face, it was always dirty, his beard was thick and his face was grimy. He would take my hand and place it on his face so i could feel the details of his structure, the bones of his jaw and the dirt in his pores, the way his eyebrows grew in odd direction. My mother I remember less, only a humble voice, a pretty one, that would sate my need for maternal love by just a word or two. Our land was small but our harvest was adequate, it would feed us for a year until harvest came once again. I would like to say we all grew and lived happily but that wasn't the case, life in this world is not so simple. Julius Caesar marched over the rubicon with his legion, and at some point in his march came upon our little settlement. We lived for ourselves, asked for nothing, gave nothing, my parents enjoying the isolation and their solitude with me. I was only a boy, barely pubescent, when they came. I heard a saying of Caesar's, and it will stick with me my whole life as to the events of that day;

'Veni, Vidi, Vici.'

The legion came, it saw, and it conquered. My father offered resistance when the Legion asked for our supply, but it was to no avail, they offered him a choice, to give what we had stocked, or for it to be taken by force. My father was never a smart man hence his reaction but it was with some thought; he knew we would not survive without the harvest and we did not need currency so we had no money to buy food. He asked the Legion to leave his land, and that it was his right to own it - Julius disagreed; the land belonged to Rome and now Rome is at its doorstep, hungry, needing.

I can still see the look on my fathers face as a gladius slipped through his chest, tearing through the shoulders as it did so. The crimson that fell drop by drop from the tip of the blade, and the viscous flow that followed when it was pulled from him. He fell to the soil, his eyes dulling, his last glance at his son. My mother was the smarter of the two, she knew the fate that would befall her but she knew she could still save her boy.

'Run my child, do not look back, do not listen and do not weep, for no one will hear you and the screams will deafen you forever.'

She ushered me out of the back of our home, and we shared one last look before she held my small hands in hers, kissed my face and caressed my cheek with her tear. The legion was at the door, they could hear a woman and they know what prize awaited them. My legs carried my body faster than my breath could, i pushed through the long grass and i was hidden from the legion behind me thanks to my stature. In the distance i could hear shouting, i could make out some but i do not want to remember the rest. My mothers moans and wails  as she was given to the innate lustful desire of all men echo in my mind every time i close my eyes, the pain in her voice eats me alive and i feel like at that moment i was no longer a child, i was no longer a boy...

I no longer felt Human.

I found myself walking for days on end, my feet bleeding and my lips were as dry as charcoal from a rested fire. I was ready to die, and I think i would have happily welcomed it. My diet was of dead carcass scraps, left by the hunters of the land, the natural killers, wolves, wild dogs, even wild cats. I had last had a drink two days before, a small clearing with a stream, i had as much as i could but my little body could only sustain as much. But the time had come now when i was no longer satisfied with life, no longer satisfied with my desire to survive for survival had no purpose now, i had no purpose and my life was no longer worth living, a small orphan boy with no money, no name, and lost on a road, no one in sight. I fell to the dirt and i was so dry it would not even stick to me. This would be my tomb, this would be where i died...

Or so i thought.

Bless-ed Jupiter, in his divine power brought rain from a cloudless day, hope from a hopeless fight, and showered me in his tears. My tongue found its way from its enclosure and poked out as a snake does at the smell of its prey, it lurked from lip to lip, prodded by delicate hydration. Suddenly i was given purpose again, perhaps this wasn't the end i was so eagerly expecting.  I was ready to die, but it was clear the Gods have a greater plan for me, and who am i, a small Orphan boy, to deny the Gods?

I rose to my feet, my arms shaking, my legs failing to hold my weight properly as i dragged myself upward. I must walk i told myself, i must survive. Step after step i found myself lost in my own mind, a welcomed sanctuary from the harsh reality i was a part of. I remembered the feel of fathers face again, mothers soft voice, and it was almost as if i was at home with them again, in their haven. My father reached for me and i put my hand out in turn, he would embrace me and i would feel whole again.

"What are you doing boy?"

I snapped back, my dream falling in an instant, and was faced with a merchant and his cart. I was left stunned for a moment, my words falling from my tongue as the rain does the sky.

"I said, what are you doing boy, speak!"

His tone suggested frustration, and he wanted an answer. My chest rumbled to life and from the crackled tone rose a puny voice.

"I am lost, i have no home."

He looked at me with a stern brow and a piercing gaze, but suddenly his expression changed, and i know now that it was a look of pity, and the man had changed his tone almost completely.

"Come with me, I can give you a new home."

I climbed aboard the cart with no question, if this man was a bad person, atleast i would die in company instead of a quiet dirt path in the middle of no where.

"Take the sack and put it on, it will keep you warm for now."

I did as the man said, I felt the fibres of this harshly woven sack on my arms and legs, and closed my eyes, falling into another paradise in which i could go home once more...