SPQR- Chapter 2
A splash of cold water and soon Martellus II had woken up in his father's home. It had been such a long time since the wolf had left and while not much about the scenery had changed, Martellus himself had changed immeasurably since his earlier days in Rome. For the first time in years, he heard his mother Claudia speak to him.
"We know you have been through so much away from home. We understand why you were not able to devise a speech."
The Academy had always trained members of the Roman military to be emotionless and rock-solid in the face of adversity but in front of his own parents and the entirety of the Roman Senate, there was no escaping the belief that in fainting on that stage, Martellus II had embarrassed himself and there was no hope for redemption. "I don't know what happened. If I was still on the battlefield, I would not have hesitated in my actions; my very life which I hold dear would have been at stake. Standing before the Senate, something- what it is I cannot say, muted me and defeated me. It was an inexcusable moment of weakness from someone who should be stronger," the centurion said, as he and his father began the arduous task of removing the armor piece by piece.
Taking off Roman armor, designed to not leave a single weak point was very difficult and often took more than one man to remove. The helmet, tight-fitting as it was came off rather easily, and with the help of a latch near his tail, they were finally able to remove the harness keeping the silver in place. Working upwards from the torso to the neck, Martellus and his son removed the silver armor, until only the cuirass of gold remained and that fell off too, leaving only a very sweaty skirt and red tunic behind. In the atrium, a different tunic awaited him which he used to replace the foul-smelling tunic, caked as it was in several months worth of sweat, blood, and the smells of occupation- it was of a pure white color and it was fitted with a white toga, the same one fitted for Martellus before he left. The process of removing the armor, the cuirass, and his old tunic cost the wolf and his father about fifteen minutes altogether. Finally, the gladius, that sword with the triangular tip meant for slicing through armor was hung on the wall on large metal tacks meant for carrying such objects.
The reason for hanging up the sword was more symbolic than anything else- after such a victorious campaign, there would be no reason for Martellus II to ever take up arms again. The glory of this resounding military victory would win generations of the Lisenius pack prestige and honor throughout the Empire. The time had come for the lupine warrior to put away his armor and army uniform for the very last time and begin the apprenticeship for the Senate under his father so that one day he could rule where his father once did. And with such a sparkling military record, no matter who was Emperor, or what the will of the Roman people, this wolf would always be known one who had fought for the Empire's best interests and thusly, Martellus could be called upon to give advice based up[on his experience. Truly, this was a glorious and wonderful day for all the members of the Lisenius pack.
When they took off the helmet, Claudia and Martellus could see the damage of four years of occupation reflected on their son's muzzle- scars, doubtlessly from the savage warriors living in Judea had left their mark on their son and yet he had survived all this to return home. But there were far more scars than what his face or body could reveal- the wolf had seen numerous battles, his Legion had been involved in a number of vicious skirmishes with the insurgents and while their superior battle tactics, technology and weapons had won the war, it left scars on the wolf's mind, scars that would never ever heal, even if given an eternity to do so.
The elder Martellus began asking his son so many questions about the war and the glories of victory and the adventures he embarked upon while in Judea. But the responses his son gave were not necessarily the ones Martellus wanted to hear.
"I am exceedingly thankful for the victory of the Roman Empire and thankful for my own survival. And while there are many reasons to be grateful for this victory, I feel as though the actions that I undertook were not correct." This caused considerable confusion amongst his parents- surely everything the Roman army did was justified, as they were merely carrying out the divine will of the Emperor. "After spending years defending the Roman subjects and imparting our laws, I feel as though I have become a hypocrite. Though I did not actively kill innocents, members of my legion for whom I must take responsibility did. The Thundering Legion destroyed so many, of every different species, and while many of them were warriors who took the responsibility of death on themselves, some were innocent."
The wolf's father tried his best to console his son. "Is that not to be expected during a war? Those barbarians killed some of our elected officials- they have been constantly troubling us for the past forty years and I think you acted responsibly and admirably, as any Roman soldier would have in the same situation."
"I would have much rather this had been solved through diplomacy, rather than the gladius. The one mission which will haunt me to the dying day is our actions at Masada, a mountain stronghold where the Judeans made their final stand. We built a ramp out of earth and charged up there and there was so much death and murder. Even if I hadn't been considering retirement from the Imperial army as I was, I would have done so the moment I got home. No amount of salary would be worth it to see such destruction. We murdered innocents, and our paws will forever be stained with blood."
Claudia knew exactly what would set her son's mind at ease. "You performed the Emperor's will and for that, there is great honor for you in this city. General Titus will send word of your great deeds and you will earn your Senate seat with no contest."
"But what am I to say when I reach the Senate? Four years in Judea gave me an idea of what we're doing- we're conquering the world, destroying centuries of native traditions and replacing with our own and we arrogantly think we're better than every other nation. I was afraid to speak because my own true experiences lead me to believe that we have usurped our authority. There are no greater villains in the outlying provinces than the Romans."
Martellus the elder was contemplating all that his son was saying. There would have to be one event that would remind his son of how great it was to be a member of the Roman Empire- nothing would dispel personal guilt like the sight of the gladiators in the arena.