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Somewhere in Rome
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The young man paced the balcony of his villa. He looked down to the palm of his hand in deep thought. It had been many years since the raid on the Temple of Brutus Terpus. The brotherhood had succeeded in a prominent attack and had suffered very little casualties. Better yet, the identity of the brotherhood had remained secret.

Footsteps from inside the villa shook the young man back to reality. A voice called, “Didius? Are you here?”

A smile cracked on the young man’s face when he recognized the voice. “On the balcony, Paulus.”

The two met in an embrace, Paulus clapped Didius on the shoulder before releasing him. The new arrival grabbed a cluster of grapes and plopped himself on the chaise lining the walkway. He kicked his feet up, “Responsibility has taken its toll on you, my friend. I can see the lines forming on your face.”

Didius did not reply. He simply turned and resumed his pacing. For those that knew him it was true. His new role as the leader of the brotherhood was taking an emotional toll and that in turn was showing itself on his face. It had been a year since Marcellus had passed to Elysium and though Didius had proven himself a capable leader, he looked much older than his thirty years should.

Paulus on the other hand had taken strongly to his new responsibilities. Octavius had groomed him from an early age to assume the duties of the financial expansion of the brotherhood. He enjoyed the lavishness that his new position afforded him. Even as boys Paulus had shown a much freer spirit, whereas Didius was a slave to his gravity.

“Friend, you must relax. Do not let this consume you.” Paulus threw a grape in Didius’s direction.

Didius let it bounce off his toga and looked at Paulus with a soft smile. “You always were a clown. Have you received the reports yet?”

“As expected, the expansion has gone smoothly. Our contacts in Ostia report normal business. Not unexpected since they are strictly financial. The other financial expansions in Carthago Nova and Massilia report that phase one has been completed and they are beginning phase two.” Paulus’s demeanor turned more serious as he talked business.

“And Carthage?”

“Our investors are readying their assets.” Paulus admired his friend. For all the times he had given him grief over his seriousness, Didius was a superior leader. Marcellus and Octavius had expanded the brotherhood into Ostia, but no one had done as much for the cause of the original benefactor than Didius.

Didius walked over to a table near the door and picked up a letter. He walked over to Paulus and handed it to him. Paulus sat up and put the grapes aside as he opened the letter and read. A look of surprise crossed his face and he looked at Didius over the edge of the letter. “This is serious?”

“Yes. Notify the men in Massilia that we will require some help. The brotherhood is heading to Germania by the end of the month. I will leave Rome in your capable hands Paulus.” He clapped his hands together. “Now, let us eat some breakfast.”

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Rome,
Near the Curia
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A cloaked man stood at the corner of a building, his eyes carefully watching the Curia for signs of conclusion. He had traveled from Germania with one purpose, speak with Consul M. Arcadius Lupidius. Rumors had been spread regarding the whereabouts of Marius Vitellius’s fortune, and most importantly, the possible whereabouts of Marius’s family.

The man checked the street behind him. He had never been to Rome and all of the commotion in the street unnerved him a bit. He clutched a letter of introduction in his left hand. Julius Antonius Vitellius, Procurator of Western Germania, had sent him on a fact finding mission to discover if there was any truth to the rumor that his family was still alive. Initial reports had said that the family had been slaughtered alongside his grandfather. He had grieved long over their deaths, but had found the strength to move past his loss. Now, the uncertainty of their situation stirred pain and anger once more.

A flood of Senators poured down the steps of the Curia. It was evident that the day’s debates had concluded. The man lowered the cloak from his head revealing a close-cropped haircut. He made his way toward the party of the elder Consul. "Consul Lupidius, a moment of your time?" He shouted as the Consul passed by. He waved the letter of introduction in his hand.

Arcadius turned giving him his attention and took the letter from the lictor that had retrieved it. He read quickly, "What can I do for you?"

"Sir, I represent Julius Antonius Vitellius, son of Marius Vitellius." The lictors and guards allowed the man to come closer to the Consul, but they were still visibly protecting him from possible attack.

Arcadius nodded. "Now what would I possibly have to do with his affiars?" he asked, annoyed.

"The Procurator wishes to know of the status of his mother and grandmother. Rumors have reached Germania that they are alive and being held in slavery under your command." As predicted, use of the word slavery had an effect.

"Slavery under my command? That is absurd!" boomed the Consul. Heads turned from neighboring clusters of people. He quieted his tone as he continued. "I assure you the Procurators family is not being held in slavery and I can assure you they continue to live the life of luxury.” He paused slightly, “However I am unaware of their whereabouts.”

"How, sir, may I ask, is that possible? If you can assure their status, surely you must have knowledge of their location. You must understand. The Procurator, until a few months ago, knew his family to be dead. Now you tell me that they are indeed alive. The Procurator wishes me to contact his family to verify."

"I'll tell you what I know. Marius Vitellius knew men were moving against him to avenge many deaths he caused. And I can bet you, this caused him to go bad and perhaps assisted in his death. When my legions landed in Sicily we were unaware of Marius's death. Upon my arrival his family had fled the island with 1,000,000c of the family estate."

The representative of the Procurator paused in thought. It seemed as though the Consul were hiding something, but he couldn’t be sure.

Arcadius continued, "His family left with a million of his estate, so am I wrong to say they’re living the life of luxury somewhere? Marius is dead and his guard was dissolved. I’m sure his family was afraid of someone seeking revenge on the family and without protection they panicked. I don't have time to run after Marius offspring and wife"

It was clear that further questions would only arouse the Consul’s temper. The representative simply concluded the conversation. "So you deny the rumors completely.” It was a statement, not a question. “I am sorry to have wasted your time, Consul." He bowed and moved away.

The Consul nodded in response and mounted his horse. "I hold no family prisoner of slavery and never would." With that he spurred his horse and rode with his guards toward his palace.

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Somewhere in Germania
Several Weeks Later
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The group of men huddled near the edge of the trees watching the activity in the valley below them. The orders had been clear; destroy as much property as possible. In the next valley over there was another group of men with the same task at hand. The barns below were illuminated in the moonlight and the men could see the horses moving slowly in the pastures.

They mounted their own horses, their torches illuminating their faces as they charged into the valley. About half way down the hillside the men could hear the alarm being sounded throughout the buildings of the horse breeder of Arcadius Lupidius.

A few men rushed out to meet the raid, but they were no defense for a mounted attack. Most of the riders simply rode past the men. A few slashed at the men with their gladii. Soon torches were being hurled into the barns and barracks and other buildings on the premises.

As fire engulfed the barns men who worked at the farm rushed to the doors and flung them open. Dozens of horses rushed out of the flaming building. The warning, though slight had done much to preserve the most valuable assets.

In the neighboring valley no warning was sounded. The storming riders launched their torches onto the buildings before anyone could be warned. The majority of the horses that had been sheltered in the barns perished in the flames. And a similar fate was met by the men who perished in their barracks.

It would be a few weeks before the Lupidii horses could be tracked down and brought back to the corrals and much more time would be required to replace the loss of buildings. Between the two horse breeders that had suffered attack, only one could be salvaged.

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Written by: M. Arcadius Lupidius, Voces Mercurii, UNKNOWN
95AD