Odyssey of a Hero

[WTE_OzWolf]

Ok, here is a story from a game I played recently. First off, attached is a crude sketch of the world map prior to the events portrayed in this story.

I apologise that I don't have a real map, but somebody at home decided to "clean" the hard drive of junk...less than impressed about that.



Red - Rome
Dark Brown - Russia
Orange Brown - England
Purple - France
Blue - Germany
Green - Babylonia
Yellow - Egyptians

The city of Rome is the circle just below the mountain range on the eastern side within the large bay.

[WTE_OzWolf]

Episode I - Inner Struggles

The storyteller looked around at the gathering crowd, a small smile tweaking the corners of his mouth. Today would be a good day. The art of storytelling had been a part of the Roman culture since before electronic and written median were ever thought of and it was still a favoured way for people to here of the Roman Empire's history, even in 2103.

Sifting through the stories he knew, the ones his father had taught him and his grandfather had taught his father, he found one that he was looking forward. Yes, the occassion was good enough for the telling of this story.

When he judged the listening area full, he stood. A hushed silence swept across the gathered crowd like a blanket. They all waited for the storyteller to speak.

"Today," he spoke, pausing for dramatic effect, "I will tell you of the Roman Empire's greatest ever General."

An excited murmur rustled through the crowd. This story was only told on the rarest of occassions and it was one that the storyteller loved to tell. The sound of the excitement and anticipation from the crowd told him that he had selected his subject perfectly.

"Our story begins some seven hundred years ago." Began the storyteller. "And we are at the gates of Rome itself..."

-----------

General Cornelius Liori looked around at the troops gathered before him. Inside he grimaced. The Roman Empire reduced to this, a group of ill-equipped civilians trying to throw back the might of Germany currently encamped outside the gates of Rome.

Four weeks earlier, a messenger had arrived at Ravenna, a small northern town buried deep across the Ceaser Mountain Range. The messenger had brought the grim news that the Capital was under siege and literally all of southern Rome was under German occupation.

General Cornelius was the Commander-in-Chief of Rome's Northern Army, though this was just a glorified title for someone in charge of militia. The northern part of the Roman continent was rugged, consisting primarily of mountain ranges, not very conducive to a thriving city.

The news that southern Rome was lost came as a shock. Where as the northern part of Rome was rugged and resource-rich, the southern cities were the feeding grounds of the Empire. The long stretches of pastoral land and soft rolling hills provided a good deal of wealth and food for Rome's armies and citizens.

He turned his mount towards Rome. Drawing his sword, he let out a scream and charged. His army followed to their apparent doom.

-----------

The clatter of hooves echoed through the ravines of the Ceaser Mountain Range. Trying to spur his horse on faster, seventeen-year old Versali Trinitus crouched low in the saddle, trying to make as little target as possible.

Occassional sparks flew of the ravine walls, telling Versali that the enemy marksmen chasing him were getting enough of a look at times to take a shot. As darkness fell, Versali had to slow down, though. The roads through the mountains were treachorous at daytime, let alone in the pitch black of night. The one advantage was that he knew the roads better than many Romans, let alone any attackers.

Versali was on the point of complete physical exhaustion. He had been riding basically non-stop for four days. But there was a reason for his haste, and the soldiers chasing him were testament to that. Only two days after General Cornelius marched the northern army south to liberate the capital, a complete Babylonian army landed close to Ravenna. With little to no regular defenders left, and no barracks at all, the city mustered what it could from the civilian population.

It wasn't much. Versali had been given a horse, and length of wood and was told he was a horsemen. An unarmoured horsemen that would have to stand against the combined charges of Babylonian cavalry and knights.

Naturally, the Roman city didn't stand a chance. The human wave of Babylonians through themselves at the walls of Ravenna. For a day and a night, the flash and bang of musketfire was accompanied by the clash of steel on steel and the screams of the dying.

Versali had no idea why the Babylonians were attacking. He was a mere farmhand who had enough to worry about without adding the worries of international politics to the basket. What he did know was that escaping was the only means. The city was going to be overrun and the Babylonians seemed intent on sparing no Roman soldier.

As the Roman soldiers fled into the Ceaser Mountain Range, the highest ranking officer, a Captain, ordered him to ride after Cornelius and warn him that the Babylonians would be approaching from behind him.

So here Versali was, riding through the night trying to warn an undersized army that they had two threats to contend with. When he reaced the ridge of the ravine, he saw a campfire on the otherside. He let out a sigh of relief. The Babylonians had given up. But it also meant that the Babylonian army was closer than he thought.

* * *

As the first rays of sunlight began to touch the landscape, Versali crested the last ridge before the capital. What he saw before him made him stop and look in disbelief. Dead bodies scattered the wrecked fields. From this distance, it was impossible to makeout their army-of-origin, but the sheer number gave evidence of a large battle.

The first that Versali knew that he had company was when the muzzle of a musket was pressed into his spine. Slowly, he raised his arms in surrender.

"State your name, origin and purpose." A very Roman voice said. Versali nearly let out an audible sigh.

"My name is Versali Trinitus. I am from the city of Ravenna and my purpose is of a messenger to General Cornelius." He said.

The pressure on his back disappeared and Versali relaxed. The weapon's owner came around the front of Versali's horse and he got to look at him for the first time. The mans face was battered, cut and smeared with blood. His eyes held a pain that made Versali flinch inwardly.

"You're going to have a hard time delivering your message." The musketman said.

"Why?" Asked Versali. "Where is he?"

Versali then winced. He already knew the answer. The musketman gestured with theatrics at the simmering battlefield.

"Pick anyone of them." He said, referencing the dead bodies. "He's in there somewhere."

Turning back to Versali, he held out his hand.

"Erentius Vivaet." He introduced himself. "Private with the 3rd Ravenna Regulars. Come, I will take you to where we are hiding."

Versali dismounted his horse, took it by the reins and followed Erentius into the dense forest. After about ten minutes, they came to a clearing. Camped within it were about four divisions of men. Tying his horse off, Versali the allowed Erentius to lead him to a cavalry Major. Both men stood to attention and saluted.

"Sir," reported Erentius, "Versali Trinitus of the city Ravenna. He has a message for General Cornelius."

The Major nodded.

"Thankyou Private." He said. "That will be all."

Once Erentius had left, the Major focused on Versali.

"Well, you might as well give me the message son." Said the Major. "I'm the highest ranking person left in this army."

"Sir." Began Versali. "Ravenna has fallen. The Babylons landed two days after General Cornelius left for Rome and sacked the city. There has not been any contact with Veil or Pompous either."

The Major studied him closely.

"If this is true, then we must return to take those cities." He said. "We cannot fight a war with only a capital that is under siege."

"There's more sir." Continued Versali. "The Babylonian army is marching through the Ceaser Mountain Range even as we speak."

The Major waited but a mere second before racing into the central clearing and bellowing out orders.

"Get your gear together." He called. "The Babylonians are coming from the north and I want to prepare a surprise for them at the road."

With quiet resignation, the soldiers began collecting the gear they would need to fight. Versali looked around. One division of cavalry, one division of knights and two divisions of musketmen. The Babylonian army had held three times that many.

The Major came up to Versali.

"I want you as my runner." He said. "I need someone to move between the units with my orders."

Versali nodded, and waited.

* * *

Versali's only companion was his breathing as he lay near the Major. The army was in place and nobody was willing to make a noise. As he lay there with his thoughts, Versali realised he still didn't know the Major's name.

Versali was filled with sorrow when he thought of Rome's state of affairs. The northern remnant, consisting of no more than a division's worth of troops, was commanded by a lone Captain. Rome's one and only remaining army was commanded by a Major.

The clatter of hooves and the fall of footsteps off in the distance broke through Versali's sorrow. The sound of an advancing army echoed up the walls of the ravine the road wound through. Perched up on the ledges were the musketmen while down in front of the army stood the two mounted divisions.

Versali peeked over the ledge and saw the first foot soldiers walking through. The swordsmen marched in step, closely followed by musketmen, cavalry and knights. Suddenly, the Major lept to his feet and called out.

"Open fire!" He bellowed. It was his last act. A diligent sharpshooter picked him off with one shot. But it was too late. The Romans had been roused.

Shots from above smacked into the Babylon's bodies with a wet sound. Screams, like the ones that haunted Versali's nightmares of Ravenna, echoed through the pass. The swordsmen, without anything to attack their attackers, tried to find cover. The musketmen took position and began to fire back.

Sharp needles of rock stung Versali's face as a fusilade hit the ledge from where he looking. As he looked around, he realised that the army was effectively leaderless. To make matters worse, the Babylonians were bringing cannons forward to pound the musketmen from the ledges lining the pass.

Crouching, Versali sprinted down a loose slope towards where the cavalry and knights waited. He reached the leaders of the respective divisions.

"The cavalry are to attack the swordsmen at the front of their column." He said between gasps of air. "The knights are to punch through the formation and try to disable the cannons."

Nodding their understanding, the leaders went and organised their troops. As Versali was running back to his vantage spot, the two divisions charged into the fray.

When he got back to his vantage spot, he noticed that the majority of the Roman musketmen still lived. The Babylonians weren't lasting so good. A good deal of swordsmen lay dead on the road. Riderless horses ran around terrified and two cannons were out of commission because their crews were dead.

"Go for the cavalry!!" He yelled.

Only the nearby musketmen heard him, but slowly the others began to shift their aim to the cavalry. Steadily, the enemy fell. One of the cannons roared, blasting away an entire ten metre square section of the pass wall.

The first volley from the cavalry shook the Babylonian swordsmen. The second volley finished them. As the glint of cavalry steel finished the job, the knights rode through the weakened front and fell amongst the musketmen in a bid to punch through to the cannons.

Another cannon roared and Versali had to scramble back as the percussion caused the front of his ledge to fall away.

"Switch to the cannons!" He called.

Slowly but surely, the musket fire swept up the enemy column and cannon crews began to fall away. The sweep of musketfire was closely being followed by the knights. Their armoured horses battered aside musketmen and dazed cavalry alike.

After an hour, the battle was over. The smell of the dead permeated the air and the screams of the wounded cut to the bone. Versali stood looking down into the pass. The Romans had captured three cannon divisions in the battle. A sergeant came running up.

"Son," he asked, "where is Major Zernius?"

"He died at the outset of battle." Versali said, turning to look at the sergeant.

"Then who..." The sergeant stopped, then his eyes widened in disbelief. "You were the one giving the orders?"

Versali simply nodded. He began to walk away. The sergeant grabbed his arm.

"But you're just a kid." He said.

Versali looked at him.

"I did what needed to be done." He replied. "Now it's someone elses job."

Versali walked down to the pass, but the sergeant followed.

"There is no-one else." He said. "The men are demoralized, there are no officers remaining and we need a leader."

Versali stopped and turned to the man.

"I can't stand the death!" He cried. "I can't. The screaming, the smell, the sheer thought of people dying at my hands or by my command, it all tears me apart. I want none of this. You lead them!"

The sergeant snorted.

"If I was leadership material, I would have been an officer a long time ago." He stated. He shook his head. "Have it your way."

The sergeant left, leaving Versali with his thoughts. Eventually, he couldn't cope and collapsed under a tree and wept.

---------------

The storyteller looked around at his crowd. They were completely immersed in the story.

"But," the storyteller said, "the sergeant wasn't finished with Versali. In him, the sergeant saw somebody who had the compassion to care for those he was in charge of, the mercy to only go as far as necessary and the idealism that would only help the Roman Empire."

He paused.

"So," he said, "the sergeant began telling everybody that it was Versali that led them through the battle. The troops immediately admired him and Versali found that he was now the only choice the soldiers had to lead their army."

[WTE_OzWolf]

...Continued...

Versali looked at the sergeant dumbstruck. In fact, it was the same sergeant that had talked to him just after the battle.

"You want me to what?" He asked in disbelief.

"We want you to lead us." The sergeant said.

"But I've already told you." Versali said. "I can't."

The sergeant's voice became low and menacing.

"Because you're scared." The sergeant said. "I have fifteen year old boys out there that have fought and been wounded or killed. Kid, you cannot let your fear rule what you do. Not everything is easy."

"I...I...can't." Versali replied, a quaver in his voice.

"You can." The sergeant said. He shook his head ruefully. "I still honestly can't believe it. Rome is on the verge of ruin and I'm still willing to place its destiny in the hands of a seventeen-year old boy."

"Then don't!" Countered Versali.

"You don't get it." The sergeant said. "The men believe that you saved their lives by taking command during the last battle. We all believe your orders won us the battle."

Versali just remained quiet.

"Just think about it." The sergeant said. "With you at their head or not, these men are going to attack the Germans."

Versali looked up in shock.

"Don't look shocked, kid." The sergeant said. "These guys don't have a home to go back to. The Babylonians took care of that. The only way we can get the northern cities back is with an army from the capital. What we have here is an army for breaking sieges, not taking cities. Anyway, try to get some sleep."

Sleep was the last thing Versali's mind wanted to do. All night, his thoughts ran rampant through his mind. He accused himself of cowardice. He thought of running away. But everytime he thought of why he couldn't lead the men gathered nearby, he always countered it with why he couldn't leave them. They were willing to put their trust in him...him, a seventeen-year old boy...and he was going to run away. He sighed. He didn't have much choice.

The funny thing was, that no matter how hard he thought about it, it was still a blur as to how he ended up as the "only hope" for Rome. Little more than 24 hours earlier, he had been running terrified from three Babylonian soldiers...now he was expected to lead a rag-tag group of soldiers against an entrenched German army. Even with his decision made, he couldn't get to sleep.

Morning was the last thing Versali wanted creeping into his tent, but eventually it did. He took his time getting dressed, trying to prepare himself mentally for the day to come. He hadn't wasted his sleepless night either, but it still didn't make things any easier.

He exited his tent and stopped in surprise. Arrayed before him in parade formation was the men who wanted him to lead them. The sergeant who had kept at him came up. Once again, Versali realised he didn't know this man's name either.

"Sir," the sergeant said, "your army is ready for inspection."

Versali shook his head.

"Firstly, don't call me sir." He said. "I am not a commissioned officer, regardless of the fact that I am leading this army. Secondly, tell the troops that I trust them to be prepared for the battle and that I want to see the divisional commanders in ten minutes."

The sergeant nodded, a smile playing across his lips. His question had been answered.

When the divisional commanders arrived, Versali wasted no time.

"What was your plan of attack going to be had I not decided to lead you?" He asked.

The divisional commanders, all of them sergeants, looked amongst themselves.

"Um," one began, "we were justing going to charge them."

"What of the cannons?" Versali asked.

"What of them?" One sergeant asked.

Versali sighed. As much as he didn't want to lead an army to their possible death, he realised that leaving the leadership to the career soldiers in front of him would make the army's death all the more quicker.

"Ok, here is what we are going to do." Versali instructed. "The cannons are to be positioned here..." he indicated a ridge-line "...and are to be trained on the enemy positions."

He traced a finger along the road.

"The cannons will lay down a bombardment on the German positions." He instructed. "While the bombardment is underway, the army will move towards the German troops. The musketmen will remain in front, because they have a greater range of fire. Once we're within fighting distance, the cavalry and knights are to charge the Germans. The musketmen are to attack where possible, but their main purpose is to protect our fall-back positions during the battle."

"But the Germans number eleven divisions. That's nearly three-to-one odds." A sergeant said.

"I doubt we'll be on our own here." Versali said. "If we can get the upper-hand, the army defending the capital may be confident enough to come out of the city to attack the attackers."

"General Cornelius couldn't reach that stage with twice the number of divisions." Another sergeant pointed out. "How do you expect us to do it with only four?"

"One, we have the cannons." Versali pointed out. "They can severely damage their troop numbers, ruin the remaining crops they are feeding off and generally disorientate them. Two, last time from I am told, this army killed at a rate of two-to-one. And lastly, we have nothing to lose. It's do or die. Rome's only remaining city is under siege. If we don't free it, we will never see our families again."

The sergeants nodded.

"Ok," ordered Versali, "let's go."

The sergeants moved towards their troops. With only the original sergeant left, Versali's outward show of confidence collapsed. He stood where he was, trembling. The sergeant looked at him.

"Son, I do not envy the position you are in." He said. "But I hold you in the highest respect for putting yourself there in the first place."

As the sergeant walked away, Versali called after him.

"Sergeant!" He called. "What is your name?"

"My name is Exti." He answered. "Exti Trinitus."

He walked towards a group of musketmen, leaving a shocked Versali in his wake. That sergeant, that man who had coerced him into leading this army, was his father. He tried to say something, but words failed him.

Versali hadn't seen his father since before his third birthday. He had originally been part of the garrison sent with settlers when Ravenna was settled. There, he had met a farmer's daughter, Versali's mother, and they had married. They had had Versali shortly after, but before Versali could properly remember, his father had been transferred to the garrison on the island city of Neapolis.

When had his father returned to the Roman continent? When had he joined General Cornelius' army? Why didn't he try to make contact with his mother in Ravenna? These questions bounced around in his head until it was time to move out.

* * *

The army moved forwards out of the protection of the woods. Versali waited for the Germans to attack but it was disturbingly quiet as they advanced. He steered his mount over towards his father's. Without even looking at Versali, Exti spoke.

"I suppose you're wondering what happened to me?" He asked. Versali kept quiet. He judged it was a rhetorical question. "Well, shortly before Neapolis fell, I was moved to Veii. I was only there a week before I was told to meet General Cornelius' army marching south from Ravenna. I didn't have a chance to get in touch."

"Why didn't you write to us?" Versali asked quietly.

"Because your mother didn't want me to." Exti replied. "I wanted to, but she felt that while I still wrote to her, it emphasised the fact that I was away from her. How is she, anyway?"

"She was fine last I saw her." Answered Versali. "Though I don't know what has happened since the Babylonians took over."

"Don't worry son." Exti said. "We will get Ravenna back."

Father and son fell into silence as they continued their movement across the plains towards the capital.

"We're almost in range." Versali said, to no one in particular. "What are the Germans doing?"

"Waiting." Exti said. "They attacked us last time and suffered dearly for it. This time, they aren't sure if it is Babylonians or Romans coming at them. And they would probably be better off staying put and defending."

The ability to continue the conversation was interrupted by the shrill whistling of cannon shot passing over their head. Versali nodded, right on cue. Explosions rippled along the estimated trench line of the German army. No sooner had the report from the last volley died down than the whistling passed by again.

Versali noticed the musketmen picking up pace.

"Calm down men." He said. "We need to be fresh. The cannons have plenty of shot to keep the German's heads down. No need to run that last mile."

With determination set on their faces, the Roman army strode at a steady pace through the broken fields that surrounded the capital. Eventually, they came across the remains of trenches used by the Germans during the early part of the siege. The cannon shots were falling about five hundred metres away, making conversation all but impossible.

Using hand signals and gestures, Versali ordered one division of musketmen to setup a defensive fall back position. Once that was done, he raised his sword and waited for the last shots of the cannon to die away. When silence reigned, a ragged cry coursed his throat and the Roman army charged.

The first fusilade from the Germans was a withering fire of death. Men fell to the ground, others kept right on going. Fear threatened to tear Versali's heart out and send him sprawling into the nearest shell hole, but he swallowed and kept riding. Shot whistled past him as another round from the Germans tore into the charging ranks. The artillery bombardment hadn't worked as well as Versali had hoped.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he was at the German positions. He watched as the cavalry riders sat up straight, braced their muskets and fired. Versali marvelled at their accuracy while riding flatout. He was close enough to see the terrified look in the German musketmen's eyes as they frantically tried to reload their cumbersome muskets. His horsed jumped the front trench, his sword flashing downwards and through a German soldier with ease.

With the cavalry in their midst, the musketmen did not notice the armoured knights attacking until the last minute. The knights made up with shear ferocity what they lacked in finesse. Their horses, like armoured behemoths, rode the length of the trench. Of the musketmen division Versali had ordered forward, he saw very little. It sorrowed him to know they had most likely died without taking a shot.

With a brief respite, he surveyed the battlefield. German and Roman soldiers scattered the ground, no longer caring about the battle that they were once a part of. In a way, Versali envied their peace. But the Roman troops that survived were tiring. They were fighting double their number and suffering greater losses as time went on.

Eventually, Versali ordered the retreat. What was left of the cavalry and knight divisions rode back towards their positions. German pursuit was discouraged by the division of musketmen left in defence. By nightfall, the plains surrounding the capital had once again fallen into silence.

* * *

"We can't keep this up." Versali said as a medic bathed a wound he had not even noticed receiving during the battle. "Simple mathematics dictate that we will not win."

Exti took a gulp of his water. Apart from some bruises, he had managed to come through the battle relatively unscathed.

"Tomorrow we will have to wait and see what the Rome garrison will do." Exti pointed out. "Ceaser, or at least one of his advisors or generals, must know that keeping them locked inside the city will mean disaster."

"If only he would send two divisions out." Versali said. "Then we could catch the Germans in the middle."

Any comment by Exti was interrupted by the arrival of cavalry corporal.

"Sir." The corporal said. "We have a rider from the capital."

Ignoring the medic, Versali stood and walked out into the flickering light cast by the lanterns scattering their area.

"How did you get by the Germans?" He asked, instantly suspicious.

The rider began to salute, but faltered when he saw who was leading the army.

"I'm sorry," the rider said, "but I am directed to speak directly to the leader of the army."

"Well, I'm it." Pointed out Versali. "Now, how did you get by the Germans?"

The rider swallowed.

"Your attack today has left several holes in their lines." The rider explained. "Enough for one man to get through."

"Ok." Conceded Versali. "What does Ceaser have to say?"

"He intends to release a division of legionnaries and a division of cavalry to attack the Germans." He said. "He asks for your instructions on when to attack."

Versali nearly let out an audible sigh and lifted his eyes to the heavens. There must be a god up there.

"Tell Caeser that we intend to attack at 0600 in two days time." Versali said. "My men need to rest before attacking again."

The rider nodded his understanding.

"Caeser will have the forces ready at that time." He said. "He will open the gates for them when he sees your forces moving to attack."

Versali wished the man luck getting back to the capital. Once he had melted into the shadows, the seventeen-year old leader of a Roman army went back to his tent, his mind awash with thoughts and strategies.

"I want the cannons to pound the German lines constantly until we attack." He said. "And don't tell any of the men that we have support coming from the capital."

"What?" Exti asked, surprised. "It would give them hope."

"The men won't fight as hard." Versali replied. "If they don't believe that they are going to receive assistance, they are going to fight twice as hard."

"But these men trust you." Exti pleaded.

Versali turned on him, pain and anguish flashing in his eyes.

"Do you think I like doing this?" He cried. "Men will die in a couple of days time, not knowing that their salvation was about to come out through the gates of the capital they were trying to save."

Exti searched his son's face, reading in the turmoil, pain and suffering that was racking Versali's mind. Without saying anything, he drew him into an embrace. Versali let the role of leader slip away, and like many times before, he wept for the life of men he had killed, men he had had killed and for the men he was going to get killed.

[WTE_OzWolf]

...Continued...

Like a recurring bad dream, Versali lead the remnants of his army across the open space toward the Germans. The sound of his heart pounded in his head and the thunder of hooves accompanied its beating. Like the heroes they were, the liberators of Rome charged towards the maw of the German army. Shots rang out, men fell and still the world kept spinning.

By the time Versali had reached the trench, there was no sign of Ceaser's reinforcements. Every chance he got, Versali looked at the capital, but each time, not a single reinforcement had appeared outside its walls.

Like a reenactment of the last battle, Versali's troops attacked with vigour. But it couldn't last. The Roman troops began to unwravel, finding themselves isolated and under siege. The Roman troops were faltering. They had no way to escape.

Even as Versali watched, Exti was killed by a musket shot. In slow motion, Versali watched his father fall from his galloping horse. He screamed out and tried to make his way to his fallen father, but it was no good.

He fought like a hero, but it was no good. His men were isolated from their only means of retreats. The noise of maimed horses and the screams of dying men competed with the sound of gunshot and the acrid smoke haze to overwhelm the senses.

Blind to surviving what was directly in front of him, Versali didn't realise he had been shot in the back until his face buried itself in the torn up ground of the battlefield. Spitting out the dirt had tried to choke him, he screamed as molten fire rippled up his body. He rolled over, drawing his pistol. A soldier stood over him, sword raised. Versali fired, killing his would-be killer. He then dropped the pistol and lay there, waiting for the end. Blackness began to creep into his vision.

Just before he succumbed to the warm embrace of the blackness, a figure appeared over the top of him. Not to attack or kill him, but to defend him. As the blackness slipped over completely, Versali thought he was going crazy. The soldier standing over the top of him looked distinctly like a legionarrie.

* * *

Versali woke to the feel of a bed. He was sure he was dead. It seemed like an eternity ago that he had slept in his bed in Ravenna. Any illusion that he was dead were soon dispelled when he realised that he was laying on his stomach and his back was aflame.

The first thought into his head brought a lump to his throat. His father was dead, killed during battle. His family was in occupied Rome. He had no friends. As he lay there, a nurse came over.

"Ah, so you are awake." She said. She put a restraining hand on his shoulder as he attempted to roll over. "Lay still while I check your wound."

Versali lay still as instructed.

"Where am I?" He asked.

"You're in hospital." The nurse replied.

"Where?" He asked once more, trying to clarify his question.

"Rome, of course." The nurse replied.

Versali closed his eyes. They must have done it. They must have liberated the capital. He just didn't want to contemplate any other scenario.

He spent the next couple of days sleeping through the pain with the assistance of morphine. After five days, he was able to sit up. A soldier visited him. He eventually recognised him as the rider who had come to his encampment after the first battle. Rage swelled in Versali.

"You." He snarled. "Why didn't Caeser's reinforcements assist us?"

The sorrow in the man's eyes cut through Versali's rage.

"I'm sorry." The rider said. "I told Caeser when you were going to attack. I waited at the gates with my fellow cavalry troops and waited to go. But Caeser held back."

"Why?" Versali asked.

"He did not want to compete with somebody else for the glory of liberating the capital." The rider explained. "He waited until he saw you fall then he sent us in."

Versali looked dumbstruck. The leader of Rome was interested in his own gain even when facing total annihilation. The rider offered a wry smile.

"But it looks like you have ruined Ceaser's plan." He said. "Now Ceaser looks even worse because you have survived."

"Not that I care about how Ceaser looks." Versali commented. "I do care that a lot of good men died because of Ceaser's selfishness."

The rider stood.

"Get some rest." He said. "You have a big day ahead of you tomorrow."

The rider walked away. Versali spoke up.

"Please tell me your name." He said. "You know mine, but I want to know yours."

"Julius." He said. "Just Julius."

Without further word, he left. Only then did Versali think to ask him what he meant about a big day tomorrow.

* * *

Versali emerged from the hospital into a dream. Crowds lined the street. People cheered. He noticed an escort of troops who had fought alongside him. He didn't know what to feel. All he wanted to do was melt away to obscurity again, but the attention of the citizens of Rome made his heart warm.

He shook the hands of each man there to escort him. Carrying the battle standards of the army's long dead general, the small entourage made their way through the streets of the capital. Along the entire path, the street was lined with people, all there to catch a glimpse of Versali Trinitus, Liberator of Rome.

The Emperor's palace was a sizeable walk from the hospital, but Versali kept walking regardless of the pain in his back. Eventually, the reached the steps leading up to the palace of Emperor Ceaser. Stiffly, for by now his back was throbbing incesently, Versali walked up the steps and into the palace.

The Emperor was obviously not as happy to see Versali as the people outside were, but he still tried to make a show of it for the onlookers.

"Versali." Ceaser said, as if greeting an old friend, not somebody he wanted to die on the battlefield. "I welcome Rome's newest hero."

He embraced Versali. Versali returned it with obvious discomfort. He had even less use for the masquerading of politics than he did for the blatant face of warfare.

"Come." Ceaser said, gesturing towards a hallway. "Walk with me."

At a leisurely stroll, Ceaser and Versali walked through the wide, cool halls of the palace.

"What do you want?" Ceaser asked. "Lands, position, money?"

Versali looked at Ceaser with a cool eye.

"I don't want anything." He said. "I just want to leave."

"But you're Rome's hero at the moment, Versali." Pointed out Ceaser. "We can't exactly just let you leave."

"I don't want to take part in the war." Versali said. "At least not as a leader."

"There is no way an army will accept you as a plain soldier, Versali." Ceaser said, his tone lowering. "They will only accept you as their leader."

"Can't you see I don't want to lead?" Versali asked.

"What we want to do and what we can do are rarely the same thing." Ceaser said, then let his voice rise in volumn. "Of course we can see about letting you assist in helping liberate the Empire."

Versali stopped. He was about to protest, but noticed the look of hope in the faces of onlookers. They were placing their hopes on him.

"Versali, as of this moment," declared Ceaser, "you are now General of the newly rebuilt Roman 1st Army."

Realising that he was going to have to use the masquerading of politics, Versali saluted.

"By your leave, sire." He said. "I will begin my campaign against the Germans holding our southern provinces."

He walked off. The small smile on Ceaser's lips told him everything. Ceaser saw him as a threat, and Versali doubted he would be alive to see all of Rome liberated.

[civman2000]

love it! Write more!!!!

[Tarquinius]

This is even better than your previous story about the Americans!
Keep up the good work
Write more

[ElDiablo]

This story is AMAZING!!!
If I were a film critic, I'd give it
I myself would give it if I had that many fingers!
You really are a good writer!

[Journier]

man this is great...

but umm is this the last part? are u doing more?

[Il Duce]

Great Story! Why don't you bestow more upon our ungrateful minds.

[WTE_OzWolf]

There will be more parts...just Easter has slowed everything down, so it'll be after that.

[Journier]

good to know..

[godinex]

Love it.... I really really love it.

[civman2000]

generations is going to win the 1st story contest, and i've got a feeling this'll win the second one (if you ever write any more ). It seems like we have a rising storytelling star!

[WTE_OzWolf]

Episode II - Liberating the Empire

The storyteller looked around at the gathered crowd. They were totally wrapped up in the story he was telling.

"The liberation of the capital only pushed Versali deeper into the world of war." He said. "His attempts to return to a peaceful life were thwarted by both Caeser and by the people. But Caeser did not intend for Versali to succeed. He wanted Versali to lose face or better still, die. He saw Versali as a threat to his throne."

* * *

Versali stood within the walls of Cumae. The city was finally theirs. Seven hours of vicious fighting had finally seen the last reminants of German troops on Roman shores capitulate. Versali's breath rasped in his ears and his uniform was soaked with sweat. The blood of countless German soldiers covered him from head to toe and he did not even want to think what he looked like in the fading twilight.

It was five years since that fateful day when Versali had inadvertantly become the Saviour of Rome and had led his rag-tag army against the German invaders sieging the capital. Five years since Caeser had declared him High General of the Roman Army and sent him forth to liberate his country. Five years to take back from the Germans what they had captured in a matter of weeks.

Versali dropped to one knee, physical exhaustion and mental anguish threatening to pull him into the warm embrace of unconciousness. At only twenty-two years of age, Versali had seen enough to drive an army of men to despair. He had watched friends die. Seen futile attempts by citizens to overthrow the invaders. Seen men literally throw themselves on their swords so as not to be captured.

The liberation of southern Rome was marked with a sea of blood. The cities would take generations to heal from the devestation of war. But it would eventually heal, unlike the tens-of-thousands of men that had died on either side. And the fighting wasn't over yet for Versali.

In northern Rome, the Babylonians still held on the cities of Veil, Ravenna, Pompous and the island city of Neapolis. They had not advanced towards the capital, but seemed content on holding onto what they had. The loss of their army in the Caeser Mountain Range had obviously caused them to stop, because early probes by Roman troops had revealed little resistance.

Encamped throughout the Caeser Mountain Range was an army that Versali had slowly been gathering that he would march onto the Babylonians with. The army he had retaken southern Rome with was due for a rest.

Forcing himself to his feet, Versali realised that he needed a rest as well, but he was not going to stop until he could see his mother again. There had been little news from the Babylonian held cities, except that the Babylonian leader had asked Caeser for peace. Versali, for one, was glad that Caeser had scoffed in the Babylonian's face. Taking Roman cities did little to endear a country to the Roman people. They wanted revenge.

Versali also knew that Caeser wanted more than just revenge from him. He also wanted Versali dead. But Caeser was wise to the whims of politics and saw his own downfall in the deliberate death of Versali. That did not stop him from trying to get Versali killed in combat. Versali doubted he would ever be a normal citizen again while Caeser remained in power. He had become too important to the people of Rome.

Versali's exhausted mental ramblings were interrupted by the arrival of Julius.

"Sir," Julius reported, "Cumae is ours."

"Were there any prisoners?" Versali asked. Julius' face told him everything.

"No sir." He replied. "Every last one of them fought to the death. Whatever propoganda Bismark has been spreading about us succeeded in frightening the hell out of them."

"It was close Julius." Versali observed. "There were times when our campaign nearly stumbled and fell."

"But it didn't sir." Julius replied. "The Germans faced the unenviable task of fighting a war far from their own homeland against a hostile population as well as the Roman armies. Their defeat at the capital broke their back."

"I need a rest, Julius." Versali said, weariness permeating his voice. "I need a long rest."

"The war against Germany is over." Julius said.

"But the war against Babylon is just beginning." Versali said. "And when we take that, what next? Invade another country? You know as well as I do that Caeser wants me dead. If we're not at war with someone, then he has no chance of fulfilling his wish."

"You're being a bit pessimistic, aren't you sir?" Julius asked.

"No, I'm being realistic Julius." Replied Versali. "Caeser will have me dead and he will take us to war to achieve it."

Julius didn't respond, just shook his head sadly. As Versali's second-in-command, he had seen the war eat away at the young man who commanded the respect of the entire Roman army. Twenty-two was barely the age to start taking some responsibility as a soldier, let alone lead Rome's armies. Julius looked around at the army. It was of a completely different makeup to the army that Versali had led across the plains outside the capital. Here, he had true weapons of war. Modern cavalry, riflemen and cannons. Roman technology, spurred on by war, had lept forward at an astounding rate.

But the hardest task was yet to come. Though the northern cities were smaller, they were in by far the most defensive positions of the Roman Empire. Nestled amongst the mountains that comprised the Caeser Mountain Range, Ravenna, Veil and Pompous all had positions that even Versali's tactical genious would be stretched to its limits with. Neapolis also posed its own problems, with only a small area of land that would allow an army a place to land and attack.

"What are your orders, sir?" He asked Versali.

"In two days time, yourself and I will ride north to our army hidden in the mountains." Explained Versali. "We will then retake Veil and liberate the gold mines."

Versali sighed.

"And then we will retake Ravenna." He said. Julius looked sympathetically at Versali. He knew of the Versali's family in Ravenna and the dread he was feeling at what he might find there.

"But my orders for now are to get some rest." Versali continued. "One foe has been thrown from our shores, but one remains. I doubt the world is going to look too comfortably at the Roman Empire when we do take back our cities, but it is our homeland...what else would they expect us to do?"

"Half the world wants us dead, sir." Julius answered the rhetorical question. "The other half is trying to find some way to gain an advantage as we die."

Versali bowed his head.

"I doubt we will see peace while we live, Julius." Versali said. "The Germans and the Babylonians have started something that neither of us, let alone Caeser, has any chance of stopping. The long peace we knew has been torn apart by our war and soon, everybody is going to be pulled into it."

* * *

On his way to the Northern Army, Versali was called upon by Caeser. If there was one thing that Versali hated more than war it was having to play polite politician to the Emperor when every bone in his body compelled him to punch the scheming, self-centered man to the ground then kick him just for good measure.

As he entered the palace auditorium, the Emperor's hanger-ons stood and began cheering. Caeser clapped quietly, but he looked far from pleased to see Versali. Caeser kept sending him to war, and Versali kept returning a bigger hero.

Caeser held out his hands offering a brotherly hug. Versali stopped short and ignored the gesture. The timid, seventeen-year old boy who had stood on the very same spot five years ago was gone, replaced by a warrior carved from the fires of war. And though Versali had no interest in politics, he had learnt that his status as Saviour of Rome meant he could take certain liberties with the Emperor.

Caeser looked irritated by Versali's actions, and privately, that pleased him no end. Close-by, somebody chuckled, but was cut short by Caeser's glare. It was a minor victory for Versali, but he would take any victory against the Emperor he could.

"General," Caeser said, "welcome back to Rome. The liberator of our empire returns triumphant."

"I am not the liberator, sire." Returned Versali. "The men who fought under me are. They should be the ones getting the accolades."

"Yes, but it takes a great leader to lead their men to victory." Caeser said.

"Not all good men are lead by good leaders." Versali countered. Caeser's eyes flared, the meaning obviously plain to him.

"You would do well to watch your tongue, boy." Caeser said in a hoarse whisper.

"And without me, you would be ruling a prison cell." Versali said, contempt cutting through his voice. Caeser looked more than astonished at the audactiy of Versali. Abruptly, Caeser's face broke out into a grin.

"Come General," he called, "let us retire to my chambers so as we can plan the further liberation of my empire."

Once inside the Emperor's chambers, all pretense of friendship left Caeser.

"I will see you hang for the contempt you show me." Caeser growled.

"What is new?" Versali asked. "I knew you wanted me dead from the day I first met you."

"Try as I might, you refuse to die in battle." Caeser said, refusing to deny Versali's claim. "But you will die."

"I will free Rome from its occupiers for the Roman people, not you." Versali said. "What you do is up to you. Your egotistical stand only makes you weak in the eyes of those around you. Tell me, if any other person had refused your embrace, what would have happened?"

Caeser looked at Versali in shock.

"Why, they would have been killed on the spot by my guards." Caeser answered, realisation creeping into his eyes.

"You see Emperor?" Versali asked. "I already command the respect of the Roman Empire."

"You are talking treason." Caeser said, his voice raising.

"You pompous fool!" Spat Versali, the anger rising in him. "I have no design for leading the Empire. I had no design to lead your armies. But to refuse an order of the Emperor is treasonous, and you would not pass up the oppurtunity to have me killed."

Caeser rocked back on his heels.

"Now," continued Versali, "if you will excuse me, I have the job of liberating your empire at hand."

With that, Versali turned his back on the Emperor and left.

When he got outside into the sunlight, the brightness cut through Versali's mood. He stood at the top of the steps, trembling slightly. He felt dirty, soiled. Shakily, he made his way down the steps. Julius, waiting with their horses, studied Versali.

"Looks like you had enother enjoyable meeting with our esteemed Emperor." He commented dryly.

"You could say that." Versali answered. "It's enough to make one wish they were already dead."

Chuckling, Julius spurred his horse on as the two friends rode out of the capitol and to the Northern Army.

* * *

The flash of gunfire filled the night sky, illuminating the landscape like a candle would light a dark room with its flickering light. Completely used to the constant noise of warfare, Versali stood atop a hillside watching as his army's left flanking unit closed in on the Babylonian's army.

"Why they insist on marching up to us, I do not know." Versali commented. "Front on warfare is a good way to get a lot of men killed."

The Babylonian army's flank crumbled as a wave of Roman cavalry rode swept into their ranks. Roman riflemen, with their new breach-loading rifles, ran and covered for each other. Like a human wall, Babylonian musketmen marched steadily towards the dispersed advancing Romans.

"Their general has no imagination." Julius observed while peering through a collapsable telescope. "It's hard to make out, but I do believe that the other flank has collapsed."

"Our cavalry will meet in the middle." Versali said. He nodded to a nearby bugular. With a stident note, the bugular called charge and Versali's group of cavalry rode down from the darkness into the battle.

Already weakened by the tactics of the Roman riflemen, the Babylonian front was open for the pickings. On the flanks, more Roman cavalry were moving in behind the Babylonian army. Versali's cavalry broke through the enemy front with startling ease. Confused and bewildered, Babylonian troops began firing at any shadow and for a brief moment, the enemy found themselves firing on each other.

The battle was bewildering. Fought in the darkness of night, the only light was thrown from gunfire and cannonfire. Twice Versali had levelled his pistol at a shadow only to have a flicker of light identify it as a Roman soldier. But the darkness aided the Roman troops. Their tactics kept the army organised.

The flanking cavalry, having completely broken the enemy flanks, was moving with startling speed across the terrain towards the Babylonian command position. Their lightning-quick attack left the enemy artillery no chance to readjust their cannons before the calvary was under their line of fire.

Versali had pulled back from the battle to get a better overall picture and he watched as a flurry of musketfire from the command position did little to stop the wave of Roman cavalry. Even as he watched, the Babylonian command staff fled the battlefield, not towards Veil but the general direction of Babylonian-occupied Rome.

With any form of leadership disappearing over the hill, the remaining Babylonians surrendered, leaving Versali's army a clear path to Veil.

The single garrison of pikemen protecting Veil offered no resistance for the Roman army. Entering the city, Versali was met by delirious citizens who were joyous at being part of the Roman Empire once again. But there was little time for rest. Versali was intent on fighting a lightning war. He intended to keep the Babylonian armies on the back foot now that he had them there.

Only pausing once to garrison a division of riflemen in Veil, the Northern Army marched north even more to retake the coastal city of Ravenna and for Versali to find out if his mother ever lived.

----------------

"The lightning war against the Babylonian occupiers was just that," the storyteller said, "lightning. Upon the liberation of Ravenna, Versali was delighted that his mother was still alive, though aged greatly over the five years since he had seen her last. A brief respite in Ravenna saw the Northern Army rested and with alarming ease, they liberated Pompous."

The crowd murmurred.

"I know," continued the storyteller, "what of Neapolis, the last remaining Roman city under enemy occupation."

----------------

Versali was violently sea-sick again. Julius patted him sympathetically on the back, then was sea-sick himself.

"We're soldiers, not sailors." Croaked Versali. He couldn't believe that he was still throwing up. He was sure there wasn't anything left in his stomach.

"It's a good thing we are soldiers." Julius said, pointing to the warships in the fleet. The round-bottom and generally fat galleons that were transporting the army to Neapolis Island did appear to be much better sea-going vessels, especially when fully laden. The sleek-hulled frigates that sailed nearby were quick, but rolled a greater degree than the galleons did. The vessels Versali definitely did not want to go near were the ironclads. Flat-bottomed, like a barge, the vessels bobbed around on the ocean like a cork.

"The worst part is that we will have to return on these things." Versali said. Julius looked at him.

"Thanks sir." He said. "You're such a comfort to have around."

Versali smiled and headed back below decks. The fleet was only three days from Neapolis Island and he had to finalise his strategy for the landing. He looked at his tactical map, Julius looking from the other side.

"The main problem is that we only have one available landing spot." Versali said. "And any dupe has to realise that they need to defend it. Neapolis as a city is right on the sea-edge, so there isn't any way for us to land within the city."

"What if we can't get ashore?" Julius asked.

"We wait for the Navy to pound the living hell out of them." Versali answered. "Then we'll..."

Versali broke off as the sound of distant gunfire could be heard. A quick look at Julius was followed by rush to upperdecks. Versali quickly found the captain, who was looking through a large telescope, mumbling to himself.

"I don't believe it." He said. "Two fleets having a barney not more than five miles off our bows."

"What is it Captain?" Versali asked.

"I would have had to see it with my own eyes." The captain continued. "It looks like the English are at war with the Babylonians"

[WTE_OzWolf]

There will be more...I promise...