7 AD
Rome
The Day After
The Praetorian officer stepped into the small garden, brightly polished armor gleaming in the sunlight, the plumed helm of a centurion tucked neatly under his right arm and stood rigidly at attention. Eyeing the officer, Decimus concluded the young man was, perhaps, twenty-two or twenty-three at the most. Sitting himself down on a bench, a large stone table in front of him, the tribune eyed Gnaeus, sitting to his right, and his other ex-legionnaire servant, Rufus, sitting on his left. He smiled, lifting an eyebrow curiously.
“Another one? So early in the morning?”
“Apparently so, sir.” Rufus grunted, frowning, as he twisted around and glared at the purple-caped officer. “It would seem Caesar wishes to keep you alive for as long as possible. Why, I haven’t a clu
