Please enjoy a sampling of the short stories I have written over the past few years. Most were written for contests, however, some were written because I had to get them out of my head.
But until I get around to posting the short stories, I thought it might be fun to post…
An Entire Chapter That Was Cut From TIDINGS!!!
It’s the chapter that explains how Augustus Caesar got his job. (My editor felt it added nothing to the story… I disagreed, pouted, held my breath, stomped my feet… but she was right. That might be the hardest part… she was always right. But I still like this chapter.)
Please enjoy!
AUGUSTUS
At this point in history, most of the known world was ruled by Rome. The Roman Empire stretched from Britain to Egypt. For the sake of scale, this was an area approximately equal to the size of the continental United States from the states of Washington to Florida. The Empire was massive. The army that fought for this impressive expansion was also massive. The Roman Empire was most of the entire world. Many of the soldiers who fought in the Roman army had never actually seen Rome… or Italy for that matter.
Rome was ruled by Augustus Caesar. That was not his given name. At least, that was not the name his mother gave him. That was the name the senate in Rome gave him. It’s a long story and I do not wish this to read like a history book, so let me give you the condensed backstory.
Before Augustus, Rome was led by Julius Caesar (you may have heard of him). Because of some family issues and whatnot, Caesar was in need of an heir. About that same time, his great-nephew Gaius Octavius (the third, as it turns out) shows up at Caesar’s door with his buddy Marcus Agrippa. Octavius was raised by his grandmother, who was Caesar’s sister. Octavius was a sickly kid and was kind of sheepish. Caesar was quite honestly surprised the kid had the balls to show up in front of him in the first place. This was late enough in his career that he had established himself as Julius-Fucking-Caesar. What happened next left Caesar a little speechless and a lot impressed. He was impressed for several reasons, including the fact that Octavius’ buddy Agrippa was like the quarterback of the football team (metaphorically, of course). Agrippa was obviously athletic, strong, and smart. If his great-nephew was hanging out with kids like this, he must have something going for him.
The two of them stared at Caesar as if they were in the presence of a rock star. Neither said a word, they just shuffled their feet and looked awkward. Caesar smiled and asked, “To what do I owe the honor of this visit?”
Octavius stared at his feet for a moment then looked Caesar in the eye. “Great Uncle, you owe me nothing and you owe my friend even less. His brother was captured fighting with the Pompeian faction. We came to humbly ask that you pardon him.”
Caesar raised an eyebrow and looked toward Agrippa. “Isn’t this the second time we’ve caught your brother fighting against Rome?”
Agrippa stood at attention like a soldier. “Yes sir, it is. My brother is an idiot and not much of a fighter. Still, he is my brother and I love him as such. I fully intend to serve in your army no matter how you decide his fate. But I ask as a friend of your great-nephew that the great Caesar show mercy in this case.”
Caesar suppressed a smile. These two have balls indeed. “We sometimes allow mercy on a single transgression against the empire. However, we never show mercy on the second. Who would take us seriously if we did? We offer those captured the chance to renounce any allegiances and join us. Your brother accepted those terms and yet found himself with the Pompeiians fighting against us for a second time. Why should I assume if given pardon he would not do the same thing again?”
“Because I would bitch-slap the little fuck-tard into the stone age if he did.” Agrippa replied.
Caesar could not suppress his smile this time. He liked these two. Balls as big as church bells. Not bad for teenagers. Teenagers facing Julius-Fucking-Caesar, the greatest leader Rome has ever known! (Caesar loved him some him). “You are asking a lot.” Caesar paused and thought for a few moments. “Here is the deal, boys… I mean no disrespect by that, just pointing out that you are still kids… anyway, in order for us to come to an accord, I will need assurances. And something in return.”
Their eyes widened in unison as they looked back at Caesar, then at each other, then back at Caesar. They fully expected Caesar to tell them to go fuck themselves. “Marcus can guarantee his brother will stay in line. I will do my best to ensure that as well.” Octavius replied. “What else would you have of us?”
Caesar continued smiling. “I will pardon your brother, Agrippa, if you do your best to keep my great-nephew out of trouble. That may seem simple now, but I hold you to that in perpetuity. He will need a good friend to counsel him and have his back. As for you, Octavius, I ask that you come work with me. It would do you well to see the workings of the senate and how I rule Rome. Who knows, maybe someday the things you learn could become useful to you.”
Caesar had decided at this meeting to train Octavius in the ways of leadership. He also decided that he was going to make Octavius his heir. Caesar kept that bit of info to himself. Octavius had no idea that he was to be heir of Rome.
Years later, on March 14th, 44 BC, Caesar told his friends that March was going to be a good month. His friends smiled at him and nodded. They stabbed him to death the next day. You can never get too comfortable as dictator.
Marc Anthony, Caesar’s buddy (the one not involved in stabbing him to death), assumed he would be the one to take over leadership of Rome since Caesar was dead. When the will was read, everyone was shocked. Caesar declared in his will that he had adopted Octavius and made him his heir. Two-thirds of the room had no idea who Octavius was. Mark Anthony was not amused. His tantrum would have made any three-year-old spoiled brat proud.
When word reached Octavius that his great-uncle had been murdered, he wanted to head to Rome immediately. He wanted revenge. Then he got the rest of the story. He heard Caesar had adopted him and made him heir. That changed his reaction. He was not as confident about his next move. The soldiers he was traveling with strongly suggested he get the hell out of Dodge and hide somewhere. His mother thought the soldiers were onto something. She encouraged him to relocate as well. Relatives of murdered leaders had a bad habit of ending up dead too. However, Octavius returned to Rome, and things worked out. He assumed power and officially changed his name to Gaius Julius Caesar, but modern convention has us refer to him as Octavian instead of Octavius from this point in time on. I’m not sure who decides these things. I don’t recall getting to vote on it. I’m not saying it wasn’t a ballot initiative, I’m just saying I don’t remember it being a ballot initiative. But there again, I digress.
The sickly kid and his badass sidekick ruled Rome for decades. They chased down Caesar’s assassins, had a couple throw-downs with Marc Anthony, and expanded the empire. In 27 BC, the Roman senate renamed him Augustus (meaning venerable one, majestic one, or something like that). Octavian was smart enough to pretend to be humble and asked that they just call him Princept instead (meaning first citizen). His rule lasted nearly 60 years.
DJ O'Toole 