Lucius Cassius Vitellius stood amongst a few sisters, nieces and nephews outside the burnt out facade of their former home. Ash still hung heavy in the air, and the stench that permeated the palace was still strong. The Palatium Quinus Vitellius had once been the rival palace of the Varro Estates, but had lost out to the competition weeks ago as riots overtook the city of Rome, fueled by anti-barbarian sentiment. Now the roof had collapsed in as the fire took its beams, and many of the walls were stained with soot. Cassius and his kin looked on in silence, solemn and thoughtful as hired help, surviving slaves and members of their family guard dug amongst the debris. None had much to say about it, all lost in thoughts of happier times amongst the palaces great walls. It had been their home for so many years, and now it was gone.

A nephew, Tacitus Phillipus, reached out and gripped his uncles’ right shoulder and let his hand rest there. Cassius kept his forlorn gaze on the cindered remains of his childhood home. “At least we were afforded lodging at cousin Raeus’ home. It isn’t entirely unfamiliar.”

Augustina, sister of Cassius and Aunt of Phillipus, said softly from behind, mostly directed to Phillipus. “First your father goes missing in Hispania, and now our home is destroyed...”

Cassius snorted, squeezing his arms across his chest a bit tighter. “It was your husband who started all of this, Augustina. You may love him, but it will be too soon before I see his face again.”

The other nieces and nephews; Vespa Accalia, Phillipus’s younger sister, Titus Arcadius and Titus Tullius, along with Cassius’s grandson Marcus Darius watched on as yet another round of bickering began between their elders. Being the youngest of the bulging clan of Tullii, they were the most affected by the death of the palace. Few of them, or their other cousins, had yet to establish themselves as independent members of the family and so were now, more than ever, reliant on their parents, aunts and uncles.

Augustina took a few steps forward and unwrapped her arms from her shawl, being sure not to look at her brother, instead focusing on a small, shattered statue lying amongst the debris. If her other brothers were here, Tacitus and Titus, she knew they would not be giving her the sort of treatment Cassius was. Imbuing her voice with as much strength as she could muster, she rebutted, trying to be hurtful in an attempt to hide her own pain. “He tried to do more than you did. Tacitus would cringe if he knew how much of a weak leader you were–“

“Weak? Weak?!” Cassius shot to his left and aimed his scorn directly at his sister, who’s eyes had not moved to greet his. Cassius huffed. “Your husband single handedly refuted you actions with the mob, Augie, and caused the utter destruction of your home! I am weak for trying to hold this family together with Tacitus gone? I am weak for trying to smooth things over with Emperor Daia to save the husband of your beloved cousin Quaestra? You continue to cater to his destructive habits and look where it has got us!”

“Uncle Cassius,” Accalia cut in, cautiously reaching out and pressing her smooth hand against his left upper arm. Cassius tilted his head toward her slightly, in recognition, but kept his angry gaze on his sister, who everyone could see was fighting back tears. “Leave her alone. She tried her best to appease the crowd, it was not her fault. It is not your fault either- it was senseless violence and we just need to fix it.”

“Or fix Daia...” fumed Titus Tullius, sat on a piece of rubble, staring off in the direction of the Imperial Palace.

Cassius wheeled around to face his nephew, his face still contorted with anger. “Never, never, NEVER utter words like that outside! Your father is fighting in the east and your uncle is lost or dead in the west, our home burnt to the ground and... I.. I...–“

“He is right, uncle,” Arcadius cut in sharply. Augustina turned, wiping her eyes, and watched. Arcadius continued after looking his brother in the eyes to show support. “Tetricus, Emperor Daia- they caused this. It is obvious to all who care to look.”

“I do not care.” Cassius stated firmly, though his mood was easing. In truth he knew what his nephews said was true. Actius Decius Daia and Lepidus Tetricus Vitellius, through a vast array of unthinkable actions had generated riots throughout the city and inadvertently started the pendulum of the northern armies. Cassius was not afraid of what was coming. He knew that whilst he had not been overtly helpful, he had done nothing to harm the late Magister or anger his armies. He repeatedly opened his home to the plebeian warlord with sincere love and open arms, and supported the marriage of his nephew Decius Cassius to a daughter of the Magisters’ as well.

His eldest sister, Daeia, was picking her way through the rubble alongside her eldest son, Horatius Polybius. She was more fortunate than most when the palace burned; her father-in-law, Helvius Terentius Polybius, had purchased the former palace home of the once esteemed Lupidius family, and Daeia lived there with her husband and their children. She felt the emotional loss however, and would do her part to help the family move forward.

Arcadius, frustrated with his uncles’ unwillingness to direct his anger where it was deserved, jogged up to help his cousin Horatius rummage through what was once the pantry. Oddly enough, the library of the house was the least damaged of the whole first floor. Its walls were scorched with large chunks of plaster missing, some dashed to pieces on the floor below. But if you rubbed away some of the soot, you could still see the fine frescoes that once adorned all of its walls. Cassius had inspected the library the day before and removed all salvageable documents, a fortune for which he had been praying in thanks for since.

In the south side of the library wall, there was a large hole. Anyone who looked close enough to see it was a hole that led ‘into’ the wall, making it thicker than the other walls. Cassius’s distant cousin, the former Procurator of Public Works Tacitus Germanus Disius, after inspecting the initial wreckage for him, determined that it was this extra thick wall that saved the library from the worst of the fire. Accalia wandered over with the help of a family guardsman toward the library. Cassius watched her closely, hoping she would not venture into the wall. He did not know the hole had not been covered; he knew it could not be closed now.

“Uncle Cassius!” She shouted, waving at him. The guardsman, seeing her learn what she should not, gave his employer a look of ‘Help? What should I do?’. Accalia was staring down into the wall, down a dark set of damp stairs. Cassius walked over as quickly and carefully as possible.

Cassius spoke briskly, taking his nieces elbow, perhaps a little too firmly. “Leave it be, Accalia. It is nothing. Nothing at all. Come over here, your aunt Daeia could use your help finding the rest of the shrine statues–“

“Sir!” shouted a guardsman from a few hundred paces to the right of Cassius.

Cassius turned and looked, pushing Accalia in the direction of Daeia, and then climbed along a thin trail through the stone and plaster mess toward the guard. “What is it?”

“Another body, sir, probably another slave.” The guard was down on one knee and as soon as Cassius was close enough he rolled the blackened corpse over to lay face up. It’s face was still recognizable despite the scorch wounds - it was another slave, but not one of Cassius’s own. He recognized it as one of Daeias’ males from her own home, and was instantly confused.

He rubbed behind his ear and then tilted his head toward where his sister was, not too far away, and shouted, “Daeia, Daeia! Come over here!”

She carefully picked her way through the rubble, and when she saw the face of the dead man below she gasped, covering her mouth with a hand and pinching her elbows into her sides for support. After a moment to think, and of Cassius looking to her for an explanation, she spoke quietly through her hand. The smell of the body was still strong. “I thought he had gone off somewhere, after you said all your household slaves were accounted for. Cassius… do not be angry, but I have been allowing him to see one of your women, the young hispanian girl who worked in your kitchen. He must have been here when the fire started...”

“Ugh!” Cassius bellowed. He was not angry, but he was annoyed. The fire had now cost three lives: This love-struck slave of his sisters’, his cousin Brutus Cassius Vitellius and his cousin’s son Cassius Maecius Vitellius. The death of his cousins hit him hard. Brutus Cassius was the eldest grandson of Tullius Quinus Vitellius, his son Maecius was married to an Agrippa woman with lifelong ties to the Imperial Dio family and both men were Senators of the Empire. The idea that rabble-rousers infuriated with the actions of their emperor had murdered two members of his own family caused Cassius great pain, and this third death- albeit just a slave male- sent him over the edge.

Cassius turned from the body and called across the ruins loudly. “EVERYONE! Load anything and everything salvageable into the carts! I want this done by the end of the day!”

The family and their retinue nodded in compliance, and Cassius turned back to head toward the street where his sister and the other watching family were still standing. He locked eyes with Augustina, who in a show of sisterly love gave him a sincere smile and a tilt of the head; it was something she did when she when feeling motherly, and caring. Cassius needed that now more than ever.

=== The Palatium Raeus Vitellius, later that day ===

The atrium of the palace hummed with activity. The Tullian Palace had long been a beating heart for the city – the family had so many political ties and was so active with both social and political activities that there were always petitioners and political dealings going on, to the extent that it had had been affectionately been known by some as the ‘second Curia.’

Cloelia Vitellius sighed warmly. She knew all this well enough – she had lived in the palace for close to fifteen years of her adult life. Her children had grown up there and she had made many friends there. To think it was gone in a moment of madness was beyond belief.

But, she felt some benefits to it. She loved having family close again. Since she had moved to Phoenicia three years before, she had felt isolated and alone. The war had forced her and much of the family home to Rome, but her own home often felt quite empty and cold. Not now, not anymore. She actually hoped they had enough beds for everyone.

The courtyard buzzed as slaves, guardsmen, refugees from the Tullian Palace and visitors all milled around. Carts bearing what could be salvaged the burned out shell of her former home had been brought in all morning, and added to the delightful chaos. A group of her own family’s guard, resplendent in their black tunics and high helms, worked with a detachment of the blue clad Tullian guard keeping a tight cordon across the entrance.

“My lady,” a slave approached carrying a large pail of water. “The water you requested.” The water was warmed, and smelt of rosemary. The lady of the house dipped her fingertips into the pail, and then washed her hands of the dust that today’s work had accumulated. The aroma re-invigorated Cloelia, and she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ears, before answering.

“Place it down by the cypress, over there.” The girl nodded, and Cloelia stepped forward. She wiped her hands down the front of the dress she wore – it was a fine creation of dazzling white. She had risen well before dawn this morning to make sure she looked her absolute best before everyone. Whilst she now approached her middle age, she was still a beautiful woman to behold, and she sensed the eyes of many on her as she moved through the throng.

She glanced up just as Cassius Vitellius returned. His white toga was covered in soot and the hem frayed. He waved in another cart that the Tullian guardsmen brought back into the atrium to leave. ‘How much the events of the last few months have changed him,’ Cloelia thought. Cassius had long been the most relaxed and easy going of the three Tullian brothers – she loved them all dearly, but he had always been the quickest to mirth. But his brother’s uncertain fate and now this had made him grim, and taken much of his usual good humour. He did not see Cloelia amongst the throng, but disappeared inside before he got stuck into conversation with one of the gathered petitioners.

Nearby though, Augustina had also returned, and made her way to Cloelia through the crowd. The two women were close friends, and smiled warmly at each other.

“I’d kiss you, darling, but I’m covered in dirt.” Augustina spoke with as much levity as could be summoned.

“It is no problem, Augie,” Cloelia replied, leaning in and kissing her cheek. “Hold on, you’ve got a smudge here.” She rubbed her finger over a mark on Augustina’s cheek. “Much better! How did you fare today?”

Augustina sighed. “As well as can be expected. There is not much that is salvageable, but it is to be expected…” her voice tailed off.

Cloelia smiled sadly and took one of her hands. “A few days and you will be back on your feet in no time. They have just boiled some water so you can probably take a wash if you wish. Oh, and I have had some servants down in the town today – they have some more clothes for you. Some of them are dazzling!”

The overt show of enthusiasm brightened Augie’s face. “That sounds wonderful. Oh…” she brightened at a thought, and she dropped her voice in a conspiratory fashion. “Accalia found the staircase in the library.”

Cloelia leant in; neither woman was meant to know much of it. “Did she follow it down?”

“No, Cassius led her away before she could.” She laughed. “He probably thinks that’s the end of it…These men and their secret places.” She turned as a figure approached. “Speak of the young lady herself!”

Vespa Accalia approached the two Vitellii ladies. She asked keenly, “Were you speaking about me, Aunt Augie?”

“Just in passing, dearest,” Augie replied with a smile. “Well, I should go and get washed and leave you to the entertaining.”

She gave a wry grin and left Accalia with Cloelia, momentarily joined by the fourteen year old Decia Otholina and Cloelia’s own daughter Helena, who were becoming fast friends. Cloelia smiled as she resumed her duties round the home. The three young girls had been following her like shadows since the fire and she was very fond of them all.

A few petitioners demanded her attention, but her notice of them wavered constantly. She noticed her second son, Raeus Commodus Vitellius, a tall youth now approaching fifteen years old, disappearing away with some of the younger Tullians. ‘Probably up to some mischief’, she thought. Commodus had far more of her temperament about him than his older brother or father, a certain wild side that occasionally got the better of him. He should have been with his tutors or doing some management of the estate, but with all the disturbances it had proved impossible to get the children to concentrate.

Another visitor pushed through the throng towards her. Cloelia smiled warmly at the approaching Darius Maxitorus. The Senator had been one of the most regular visitors to the palace over the last years, being closely tied to her husband. He regularly took the time to come and visit the family and look in on their children, one of whom he would eventually take under his wing into the Senate. Of late, he had been a less frequent visitor – following his performance in the questioning of Magister Vallentinus, his stock had risen in the city, and he was quickly becoming a man of substance on his own.

“My lady,” he spoke in a sonorous voice. “It is good to see you again. You look as beautiful as always.”

Cloelia bowed and smiled at the compliment. “My thanks, Darius. It is always a pleasure to have you here.”

“Yes, though you seem a little busier than usual.” The Senator snorted slightly, and placed a hand on his chest to steady himself. “I shall not keep you too long then, I can see you are pressed. I come to inform you that I shall be departing in the next few days to winter on my family’s estates in Sardinia.”

“Of course,” she smiled. With the coming of the Northern army, she understood the Senator would not want to take any chances. “I trust you shall have a fine winter and return to your duties as soon as is permitted?”

Darius smiled slightly at the inference. “Of course. I hope to return to work post haste. I will make no secret of it before you, my lady, but I intend to stand for a Consulship in the coming years. I shall be most active, as always, in your husbands’ interests.”

“I appreciate that, my husband has long been appreciative of your service.”

“I am glad,” the Senator said, straightening. “I shall hopefully see you in the summer.” He bowed gravely, and turned to depart. Cloelia’s attention was quickly taken by another petitioner, and she disappeared into the crowd, followed by her entourage of young Vitelli girls.

=== That night in the Palatium Raeus Vitellius ===

“So where is Decius then?” Rufinus asked, sitting across from Lucius Cassius in front of the warmth of a lit fireplace. They were in a room just off the private office of Calidus Raeus Vitellius, where few were ever granted use without the General present. The walls contained frescoes depicting the battles of Palmyra and Iustianapolis, and the furniture was amongst the most opulent in the Palace – more for the waiting guests of the General’s audience than for normal family use. But the palace was so busy, Cassius had retreated here for a moments quiet. He had asked Senators Pontus Rufinus Accarus and Cassius Ispius to come by, mostly for company, but also to talk of the darkening future.

“He is taking the bodies of Vallentinus and Kaeso north to the legions,” Lucius Cassius said. He gazed into the fire, “Much to Augustina’s chagrin, I asked Emperor Daia to permit him to do so. I could not stand to look at him, let alone know he was nearby.”

Cassius Ispius, tired under the stresses of late, loudly clamped his right hand down on his knee and adjusted his posture. He looked to his host, “Sanius Piso has recommended the evacuation of the imperial treasury to Ostia to Daia, along with any personal assets, et cetera. I will be going as well, along with many other–“

“Myself as well,” Rufinus chimed in.

“–others who fear the wrath of the northern legions.” Cassius continued, unnerved by the interruption. He watched Lucius Cassius’ face and took note of the sinking eyebrows and frowning mouth. “I would encourage you to go too, but I will not pressure you. I am sure you feel your position with the Vallites is a good one - but the rest of us are not so lucky. I even hear rumor that your brother-n-law Marcus Polybius will be leaving.”

“Good.” Lucius Cassius said. “I can not be responsible for satellite members of this family who continue to speak contrary to myself. I love Marcus, and my sister, but he made his feelings clear during the hearing.”

“Nobody liked the Magister, Cassius, but that is hardly reason for the armies to–“

“It is more than enough, Rufinus.” Lucius Cassius stated firmly. He leant back in his seat and for moment just looked at his two closest friends with affection. “The Legates of Vallentinus were brainwashed to see him as a god, no question. We can only assume they wish to sack the city and exact retribution.”

“Obviously, that is not in question...” Cassius Ispius rephrased, “but regardless, will you leave the city?”

“No.”

Rufinus laughed and turned his head away, “For the first time ever, you are just like your father. Strength and defiance were never your suit, Cassius.”

“I had Tacitus to lead me, an older brother to defend and chastise me, to keep this family together. I had no need to be a replica of my father, and besides- it is too late.” Lucius Cassius said, slightly annoyed. “I am old, we are all old. I just don’t see a point to run from a city where I have already lost most of what I was. That house was it, damn it.”

“You are not afraid an angry barbarian will kill you?” Rufinus asked, looking at Cassius Ispius who nodded in support of the question.

“Of course I am! Come on,” Lucius Cassius smiled. He looked his friends and saw that they were just being that- friends- and he should not be annoyed with them. “I am no soldier. I do not have the discipline instilled like my brother Titus, or my nephew Rufus. I could not take my own life to avoid torture, and I do not see being killed as something to face with strength. If I thought I was in actual danger I would flee... That, now that is in my nature.”

Cassius Ispius nodded in understanding. “I think Rimilius is considering staying as well, as Delegatus Princips he probably feels a sense of duty to the empire or the city. I do not know. Our children and grandchildren are leaving - you should at the very least, Cassius, organize transport for the young of your family.”

“They can go with mine, Cassius. My nieces and nephews will be leaving before the ides, heading to Ostia for Sardinia.” Rufinus invited. “Your cousin the Prefect offered - I know he offered the same to you.”

“Indeed he did. Yes, they’ll all go. In fact I think my nieces and nephews that belong to Tacitus will just go to Hispania to be near their mother. They are still looking for him, and though I hold out hope, I...” Lucius Cassius shook his head, clearing the topic of his missing brother. “Anyway, yes. Everyone will likely go. I will stay with Augustina and see if we can not begin reconstruction on the palace.”

Cassius Ispius nodded. He, like all their colleagues in the Senate, had heard about the death of two of their own. It was tragic and infuriating to know that they were lost to a mob of unthinking commoners, rioting over what turned out to be nothing. “Everyone is extremely sorry for your loss, Cassius. Brutus Cassius was highly revered for his works along the Danube, and Maecius was extremely adept at working behind the scenes in getting everyone to cooperate. They will be missed.”

“Thank you Cassius, I know. Even Fabius Tertilus has extended his condolences. Brutus Cassius was old, and I am sure he is off in Elysium with Isadria. He was so broken up after her death...”

Rufinus rapped his fingers on the arm of the cushioned wooden chair in which he sat. He had been angry upon the news of the Senators’ deaths, pinning blame immediately on Consul Lepidus Tetricus Vitellius for pushing for the consular hearing of Iovinianus Vallentinus in the first place, and then the surprise invasion of his closest friends’ home to arrest the man. He looked at Lucius Cassius without expression. “Something should be done.”

“And stoop to the level of those filthy street people? Rufinus, think about it.” Cassius Ispius stated, his tone surprised. “I can almost assure you that the legions coming will cry for the blood of not just Tetricus.”

Nearby, in the quiet darkness just outside the fire-lit studdy, the Listener stood with his ear pressed to the door. A red tattoo on his shoulder revealed his code, but he kept himself to the shadows. His cold, grey eyes revealed little at the news, but his mind worked over the permutations of all of this, taking note of who would be where as the men on the other side continued to talk. Once he was certain he had what he needed, he pulled his cloak-hood over his head, looked around swiftly, and disappeared into the gathering darkness from whence he had come.


Written By: Ferus Juventas and Calidus Raeus Vitellius

Edited By: Ferus Juventas

132 AD