Proconsul Domitius paced outside of the home of Druscilla Livius, feeling the slow rise of the morning sun on his skin as he walked. He didn’t know exactly how he should make his entrance, or even if he should make his entrance at all.

Druscilla was an understanding sort of person and would most likely not mind too terribly that he was late, but of course he was eighteen hours late, just now coming back from a meeting with Cicero that should have taken less than an hour.

Krystus sighed. Of course the meeting had actually taken less than an hour. The truth was that the Proconsul had spent the rest of the afternoon and evening…the entire night in fact…walking around Rome thinking. Thinking about what? He had spent nearly eighteen hours walking around the Capital thinking as to what he should do next. Cicero made an interesting offer, although completely unrealistic. In fact, Krystus was pretty sure Cicero would sell him out as soon as his own neck was on the line. More so, the Proconsul had no wish to become the “great orator’s” puppet.

But that led to the next question. What should he do now?

Cicero was right in thinking that very soon the forces of Antony and Octavian would collide. He was also right in believing that Brutus, Cassius and the rest of his cohorts would probably have to flee. But was Cicero right in thinking that Brutus and Cassius stood no chance?
After all, even if Rome came under the will of Caesar’s heirs (which it surely would), couldn’t enough support be found for the Republican cause?

Krystus knew that there were legions still loyal to him. Maybe he could muster enough support to fight for the Republican cause when the time came. Of course he might need the support of other legions and for that he might need a few other Senators he could trust.

Krystus paused and glanced at Druscilla’s door. He started pacing again.

Only one name came to mind. Arminius Terentius. He had commanded the armies of Rome. He was a respected commander and senator. He had been in Pompey’s theater on the Ides. Arminius was someone Krystus could trust, but would Arminius trust him?

Cicero was right, it was time to consider survival, but Krystus refused to do it at the expense of his principals. He wouldn’t run. He wouldn’t pretend to have been a loyal supporter of Caesar’s coup. All he could do was fight.

Krystus stopped and turned toward Druscilla’s door one last time.

How would she react to the news?

What would she say?

Would she even let him in after being eighteen hours late?

Krystus Domitius took a deep breath and knocked on the door.