animeartistjo | Lucretius and Cassandra (Reply)

I have no idea how valid Lucretius is as a Greek name...

Summary: Just a day in the life of a Greek noble, who's returning home from war.

Warning: Not historically accurate, written when I was in 9th grade HS, possibly abandoned

Inspired when I began to doodle a woman in a toga-like robe and a shawl... I like shawls. Wish I had one, actually. It's pretty cool in the dorms (I have three blankets on my bed and the floor is tiled). There's a heater, but low is ineffective, medium and high are suffocating, and there's a lot of accompanying noise... Not good when you want to study.

Word Count according to MS Word: 1,906

Lucretius squinted through the choking, yellow clouds of dust the horses kicked up, trying to make out the road ahead. Beside him, his fellow captain Hesperos shouted cheerful sentences to his men. The war had been a long one and everyone was happy to finally be heading home back to the loving arms of family, friends, and lovers. Lucretius couldn’t blame Hesperos for his light-heartedness, but it was starting to grate on his nerves.

The merciless afternoon sun beat down on his armor-clad body, making him feel like a lobster being boiled slowly to readiness. The jolting of the cantering horse was a now weary and tiring constant, something he had been enduring for weeks. This was his first major war and although short compared to the usual three to ten year wars; it had been enough for him. He was prided himself for not being one of the supercilious idiotic, lazy cowards that he had the shame to call generals and therefore his superiors. Because of this decision, Lucretius had to forego the comforts that usually came with his rank in the military. That meant no huge, silken, cumbersome, and most of all, heavy tents and furniture. Which also meant no beds—he had had to make do with the barest of cots and a pillow filled with what had felt like rocks.

Midway through the waiting for the nest battle, all the supplies had gotten infested with poisonous insects and scorpions. The water had gone stale and a dead bird had fallen into the main water supply, rendering the entire contents undrinkable. Lucretius was forced to watch in repugnance as the smug generals who had stationed themselves in the lee of a hill and far away from their troops as possible dined on peacock tongues and other rare delicacies as the army stank with diarrhea and suffered dysentery, malnutrition, and heat stroke. The fact that they were stuck in the middle of the blasted wasteland of a desert didn’t help either. Lucretius did some quick calculations in his head and figured they had lost more men to disease and the weather than the actual slaying in battle. Rome had won, but at a great price. Lucretius momentarily closed his eyes as he remembered writing the hundreds of letters with compensation money for the dead soldiers. How could a few coins, no matter what value, take the place of a loved one? Lucretius sighed and slumped into the saddle, not disturbing his stallion, who was now used to his master’s moods. Only a few more hours until home. Only a few more hours. Only . . .

- <\|_*_|/> -

“Lucretius.”

Lucretius cracked opened one blood-shot eye. “Yeeeees . . .?”

Hesperos shook him one more time before starting to unbuckled the horse’s tack. “It’s only twenty more minutes from the capital. Better freshen up.”

Lucretius groaned. “Why? We just fought within an inch of our lives and struggled out of a disease-ridden den, shouldn’t that be enough?”

Hesperos made a sound of sympathy, “I know, I know. But rules are rules and war heroes aren’t supposed to look tired or dirty in public.”

Grumbling, Lucretius rubbed the rest of the dust and sleep sand from his eyes and followed his valet to on of the impromptu tents that had been set up. Well, at least the men could stop and take a brief rest.

- <\|_*_|/> -

Lucretius watched the huge gates of Rome creak as behind it, teams of men strove to open it. It was usually open so that Roman citizens could go back and forth from the countryside and the sophistication of city life, but because of war, exceptions had to be made for safety procedures. Somewhere in the sprawling entity called Rome, Lucretius could hear trumpets blowing in honor of the victorious army. Flocks of birds took flight in surprise at the city-wide sound. Finally, the gates were open as wide as it could and the army with the useless generals on their equally useless white show horses in the lead marched in formation into their city.

Lucretius and the other captains were riding some distance behind the glory-grabbers, which was fine with him. The cheers of the people were deafening and Lucretius did not want his foreign ancestry to come into further light. It was enough for him to be heading faster toward his villa and therefore a more thorough bath with soap. Lucretius never put much by the oil in hair thing and putting more and more perfume on to disguise a smell he usually associated with the midden at high noon. The fact that his housekeeper did not either and ended up looking far better than even Caesar’s wife said a lot.

Since his was of a relatively low rank and that his commander liked to bask in the attention of the Senate and Tribune, his superior made himself sound noble by taking all of Lucretius’ deeds and making them his. Because of Lucretius’ care for the lives of the soldiers in his charge, his commanding officer was starting to be regarded as a type of military hero. Julius Caesar's charisma and cunning more then made up for his lack of achievements. Seeing that most of the population’s eyes were on the proud, purple figure at the head of the huge column, Lucretius lowered the hood of his commoner brown cloak over his head and discretely sending his brown gelding over to the edge of the column. His last look of Rome’s army was off several other men—soldiers and officers—following his example.

- <\|_*_|/> -

Cassandra leaned against the marble balustrade overlooking the courtyard checking through her list. “Tara, is the washing done? Tito, has the entire stable been prepared for our lord’s return? Melina, would you kindly go in and ask Heria if all Master’s belongings had been cleaned or replaced?”

“Only some of the fine silk, Lady Cassandra! They require more careful handling than the linens or cotton.

“Yes, Lady! Tack’s all oiled, stalls all mucked, and the black stallion has just arrived!”

As Melina’s footsteps receded into the inner recesses of the immense villa, Cassandra pursed her lips and looked over to the estate’s gate, far in the distance at the end of a wide, tree-lined boulevard. Dark Death had been returned and safely, so his rider must have survived. Good. Cassandra quickly scanned through all the household bills and came up with a correct sum. She hadn’t gone over the budget limit and everything was coming along just fine.

Winding her dark blue shawl tighter over her shoulders, Cassandra unrolled one of the scrolls she had in her arms and checked the list of visitors and their messages that had come in during the master of the villa’s absence. Mentally, she reminded herself of the ones that were important enough to merit his immediate attention upon arrival. Various maids and menservants swerved around her with murmured apologies as they all headed for the completion of one errand or the other. Seeing one that wasn’t too busy, Cassandra asked him to prepare a bath for the lord. Nodding, the man hurried to deliver his stack of papers and then to carrying out her request. If she knew her employer well enough, he would probably be feeling dirty after all he had seen and gone through.

Excited cries from the entranceway made Cassandra look toward the gate again. A cloud of dust—the type made by a company of men riding horses through the dirt roads of Outer Rome where most of the self-supported luxury homes. The sight spurred Cassandra to greater speeds in her reorganization of the records. Finally, the rolls of paper too much for only two arms, Cassandra stuffed them into one of the many ornamental urns lining the hallway. Her burden removed, Cassandra hurried through the gleaming marble hallways as fast as she could without slipping. Her silk, indoor slippers were too slick to allow purchase on the smooth stone halls. Manny a visitor unused to the slickness of smooth marble had landed in an undignified position on the floor.

Cassandra made it in time to see the party of men rein their horses to an unsteady stop. They were so dusty and sweaty, Cassandra was glad of her decision of have a bath prepared. Seeing that the lord wasn’t the only one in such condition, Cassandra hurriedly ordered some of the maids to start the hot water and set out clean sets of clothes. Seeing that everything else was finished, Cassandra shifted into a more comfortable position at the top of the cold, marble steps and waited.

- <\|_*_|/> -

Lucretius was very relieved to see the gates of his city estate come into view. Along the way back, he had met up with other recruited soldiers who had originated from his domain. It was a quiet meeting for most of the men were anticipating their reunions with the loved ones they had left behind. Lucretius had respected that and quickened the pace to as fast as the tired horses could go. It seemed that his people had already seen his approach, for the iron gates were already almost fully opened when they came riding up. Lucretius could feel the warm, soothing waters of the bath that would be waiting for him already.

“Whoaaa, there!” Lucretius quickly dismounted and strode over to the patient figure of his housekeeper. “Cassandra!”

Cassandra bowed, her garb made a proper curtsey difficult, “Yes, M’lord?”

“Do what you need to get the men comfortable or on their way home. I’m going to take a bath!”

“Yes, Milord. Melina, take Milord to the bathing room. Tara, come with me.”

“No. Cassandra, you’ll come with me. Come, Hesperos, you’ll get the bath you were yearning for.”

- <\|_*_|/> -

Cassandra gave Lucretius a stony glare as a light-haired man finished taking off his pack from the horse he had been riding. Hesperos noticed her displeasure and smiled nervously. His family lived in mortal fear of their matriarch and the look Cassandra was wearing eerily resembled Mother’s look of angry displeasure. “Um . . . Lucretius?”

“Yes?”

“Maybe Lady Cassandra would rather help your servants.”

Lucretius stared at him, “Cassandra is my housekeeper, so she will obey what I tell her whether she likes it or not and because of her station, you have no need to bestow her the title of ‘lady’.”

“And I am quite sure that Cassandra is not standing right here listening to both of you prattling on and on and just generally wasting valuable time,” Cassandra’s frosty tone could freeze fire itself.

Hesperos and Lucretius both flinched at the tone—anyone faced with it would.

Sidling over to Lucretius, Hesperos whispered in his ear, “Lucretius, can you just leave it and let her go? She scares me. A lot.”

Lucretius’ blue eyes shot lightning at him before turning to Cassandra and said, “Fine. Do what you will Cassandra and stop scaring my guests.”

Cassandra instantly lost her cold attitude and was apologetic, “Oh, I’m terribly sorry. Here, I take you to your guest room so you could rest while your bath is being prepared.” So saying, she grasped a startled Hesperos by the arm and led him down another hallway.

Lucretius was left standing in the foyer surrounded by servants who were all politely ignoring him, feeling snubbed.

- <\|_*_|/> -