Soldier of Rome: The Centurion (The Artorian Chronicles) Read Free

help. While his afflictions were genuine, Livia had suspected for some time that he exaggerated them in public.
    “Th…th…thank you for inviting me to d…dinner, Grandmother,” Claudius struggled to say. A slave handed him an oversized chalice of wine, which he immediately drank heavily from. It was embarrassing that he was so nervous around her, but then Livia reckoned she had never been very kind to him, often berating him as a fool and an embarrassment to the family.
    By the time he made his way to his couch he had already emptied the chalice and was asking for more. Livia grinned inside, for the wine she had supplied was very potent and would loosen his tongue. She needed to see if her intuition about his exaggerated afflictions was true before she let him know her intentions.
    “I’m glad you made it,” Livia said after allowing for a slightly awkward silence.
    “Y…y…yes,” he started to say when Livia cut him off.
    “Oh stop it!” she snapped. “I know that you can speak properly, so lay off the charade already.”
    “S…sorry, Grandmother. I will try to speak better.”
    “I know more about you than you realize,” Livia said, leaning forward slightly. This c aused Claudius to wince. “You didn’t think you could hide under the guise of a fool forever, did you?”
    “N…no, Grandmother, I suppose not.” Claudius took another long pull of wine and tried to relax a bit. There was no point in playing the fool with Livia any longer.
    “I wanted to also say that I know this is a trying time for you right now,” the Empress said, causing Claudius to lower his head and take another long drink of wine. “I, too, understand what it is like to lose a child.” Claudius’ son, also named Claudius, had been in his teens and was, in fact, betrothed to the daughter of the Praetorian Prefect, Sejanus, when he succumbed to a mysterious death by asphyxiation. Though the circumstances were suspicious, murder had been ruled out.
    “H…he was a good lad,” Claudius replied quietly. The death of his son was but one of the trials he had been facing of late.
    “Doubtless his marriage to Junilla would have been good for you as well,” Livia added. “Oh, don’t think I’m heartless. I just know that your son marrying the daughter of Sejanus would have placed you in a good position politically since my husband, as well as your uncle, has denied you in this regard.”
    “Augustus did not care for my history of the civil wars that I wrote all those years ago,” Claudius said, leaning back on his couch and sampling some figs. “He apologized to me for having it disposed of, although this was many years later.”
    “Your timing was terrible,” Livia replied. “While Augustus always appreciated candor, it was too soon after the civil war against Antony that you wrote possibly the most critical work ever written about him. It also served as a stark reminder to him that you are Marc Antony’s grandson. He knew your popularity with the Senate, as well as the common people, and he could not allow the possibility of them becoming sentimental and longing for the Republic to return . Most had forgotten that Antony was a traitor who had abandoned Rome in the first place.”
    “I assure you, Grandmother, that my sentiments have nothing to do with my lineage,” Claudius stated.
    “No, I understand you are still infatuated with that archaic system of government known as the Republic,” Livia countered. “It is all well and good. Your father was a republican at heart, as was his father. I suspect even Augustus himself longed for the days when the Senate could rule on its own. But those days are no more. Like it or not, Claudius, Rome needs a strong emperor. The Empire is too large for that squabbling mass of panderers and politicians to run effectively. I swear most of them cannot even agree on what to serve for lunch, let alone make important decisions affecting Syria or Hispania.”
    “There are still good men