"I know he is old, but just how old is the Imperator?" Quintus Flavius asked as he sat on a wooden stool beside a table gripping the pommel of his sturdy, heavy bladed gladius with one hand and running a whetstone down one sharp edge of the steel blade.
gladiusHe had listened silently as his mentor revealed all that Caius Lucius had told him just hours before. When the tribune mentioned Caesar"s direct involvement in the Second Triumvirate the young man"s eyes lit up.
"Somewhere in his eighties," the older man answered softly as he stood in the opening of the villa which led out into the gardens. He held a goblet of wine in hand. "An old, tired man, Quintus Flavius. A man who knows he has little time left in this world. That knowledge weighs upon him heavily."
The sound of the whetstone
