Roma Victor. The God is dead, long live the God! - ebook

1. The Package

It was May 6, 1937 when after three days of journey across the Atlantic Ocean an airship LZ 129 Hindenburg was approaching a landing field in Lakehurst. Jan was really exhausted with the journey and all he wanted was just to land, fulfill final instructions, and go to his hotel for a tasty dinner and rest.

‘The task I have for you is the most important one so far, my son’ said the Black Pope when they met in Rome no more than a month ago.’I have prepared a special package which you have to carry away from Europe as soon as possible. In fact, I have already booked tickets for all of you for a flight with Hindenburg for the beginning of May.’

‘I understand, father, but why can’t I go alone or with just one bodyguard?’ asked Jan looking at a huge suitcase or rather an enormous chest, already packed and ready to be shipped.

Ledóchowski handed him an envelope. ‘In this box you have a key, a code and a special instruction how to open the package in case of emergency.’ Jan realized that his mentor was really nervous. ‘If anyone tries to steal it, you must destroy it.’

As the confidant of the Jesuit the financier understood that this was a matter of the utmost importance and he won’t be told anything more.

‘Listen, my son,’ said the Jesuit, much calmer this time, ‘this package contains information for which it is worth to kill. Remember’ he looked Jan in the eyes and squeezed his hand.

Janus remembered the conversation and the fact that he was constantly accompanied by three bodyguards. He also knew that several other people on board are in charge of the package as well. He has realized that there was probably someone interested with him but at the same time he was aware that it might be just a coincidence or a result of paranoia he developed because of the whole situation, and throughout the years of faithful service for the order and the church. He stared at Eliza, who was in command of his bodyguards, and who was supposed to take charge of the whole mission in case of danger. She was standing near their table, looking at the sea and around the deck. She was in her twenties but Jan couldn’t guess how old she was exactly. Perhaps she didn’t know that either because, as all the children of the Black Pope, she was an orphan. Although Jan knew that other men on board envied him knowing Eliza, for him this acquaintance was exactly what kept him awake.

There were six levels of psychical and defense training in the camp. Since he was a child Jan has been interested in mathematics so he had only completed five years of training, which granted him the epsilon level. Eliza was definitely an omega, which meant she was the most precious figure in Ledóchowski’s collection. The only jewelry she was wearing was the Quirinus’ ring. „So the ring was not a legend’ thought the financier. Janus didn't know the details of Eliza's training. All he knew was that it took more than a dozen years and it was extended with various elements, such as techniques of investigation similar to those form good old inquisition methods. He knew that the other men on board were looking at a beautiful young woman with long black hair and big hazel eyes, but all that he could see was a personification of the definite justice in this world – death.

Janus spotted a mooring mast on the horizon. ‘I'm going to the bathroom’ he said to one of his guards.

‘I'll go with you.’

‘It won't be necessary. If anyone plans to attack me, he'll to it when we land’ answered Janus and stood up. He was really tired since he didn't sleep well the previous night. He stood for a while, straightening his back, and then walked towards the bathroom, feeling Eliza's eyes on him. He washed his hands and cooled his neck with a wet towel. He slowly wiped his face. In the mirror he caught a glimpse of a shadow and a second after he was attacked. The attacker tried to cut him with a knife with a long and sharp blade. Years of training in Jesuits' camp have done their job. The Black Pope's messenger reacted immediately. He blocked the blow precisely with his left hand and hit the attacker directly in the larynx with his right hand. Almost simultaneously he kicked the assassin with his right leg precisely in the solar plexus. The kick sent the attacker into one of the cabins, breaking its beautiful wooden door.

Janus looked around and locked the bathroom door. He checked in the mirror if he had any wounds or whether any signs of fight were visible. Then he carefully approached the cabin where the attacker was lying. It seemed that he crashed into the toilet with such a power that the back of his had was nothing more but a sticky puddle of blood. Because of his wide open eyes Janus could judge that the attacker had probably choked on his own larynx and therefore died of asphyxiation. Jan was really mad. Now he won't be able to find out who had sent the attacker dressed up as a crew member to kill him and, what was more important, what was the reason for it.

He quickly walked out of the bathroom and went towards the table where his bodyguard was sitting. He quietly told him what had happened and asked him to go and check everything one more time. Eliza agreed with Jan's suggestion and decided to stay with him. The airship was approaching the mooring mast when they suddenly heard an explosion. Jan realized that fire together with hydrogen which filled the ship meant a certain death. The constructions all around started to fall. People were shouting and running, trampling one another in panic. Eliza took his arm and run towards the hold. They easily went through the deck and the stairs, where they found the first dead body. It was a men dressed as a crew member, clearly another attacker. A few feet away one of the bodyguards was sitting with a gun in one hand, and covering a wound in his stomach with another. Behind him another bodyguard was hiding. After a short while two remaining members of Janus’ guard joined them. Hearing the explosion they decided to give up the corpse in the bathroom and protect the package instead. Eliza approached the wounded man and checked his condition. The bleeding from beneath his heart was really intensive. She took the gun out of his hand and with one swift move she broke the man's neck.

Heading away from the landing filed Janus looked back at the dying giant. He could hardly believe his eyes. The monstrous, two-hundred-meters ship was all in flames. Jan remembered the terrace on the upper deck where he spent long hours staring at the magnificent sky. He also tried to recall all the details of his cabin. ‘The history is burning in front of my eyes’ Janus thought.

2. God’s Warriors

It was early October 1065 A.U.C.

Constantine's camp looked impressive. He was heading for Rome at the head of forty thousand soldiers. Walking along via Flamina, Constantine decided to camp in Malborghetto near Prima Porta. Galerius died no longer than a year before. Together with Maxentius, Maximinus Daia and Licinius, Constantine fought for power. He was heading for Rome because the only serious obstacle on his way to absolute power over the empire was his brother-in-law, Maxentius. In the morning, together with his teacher, servant and advisor, a Greek named Diodorius, he went to a lake Lago di Bracciano. Water had always had a positive influence on Constantine. It soothed his nerves and lifted his mood. Achieving the last one was, especially recently, really hard since he was very much aware of the importance and difficulty of the battle. It was not only a battle for a throne but also for life.

‘Rome awaits us, Constantine’ said the Greek staring at the beautiful lake glimmering in the morning sun.

‘I bet you are waiting to make yourself comfortable in thermae, aren't you?’ asked the young Caesar.

Diodorius closed his eyes and recalled the images. ‘Indeed, my dear, I would love to move in there for a while’ he said, smiling. ‘A beautiful gate, apodyterium, palaestra, massaging rooms, libraries with places to take rest, sauna, caldarium and frigidarium.’

‘You could admire sculptures as well’ added Constantine.

‘Heracles or the Bull himself’ said the Greek. ‘Unless as an emperor you would organize some sports competitions in the open air.’

‘In spring I guess, my friend?’

‘Yes, in spring, Constantine’ said Diodorius. ‘And what do you miss the most? Circus Maximus, the Flavian Amphitheater or maybe the Roman Forum?’

The young ruler closed his eyes to think. ‘The Roman Forum is a place of great importance’ he said. ‘The Flavian Amphitheater and Circus Maximus will be useful when the time comes, but most of all I would like to spend some time in the pantheon and admire the sunlight illuminating the temple through the oculus.’

‘Yes, definitely pantheon is a great place’ agreed the Greek. ‘Shall we go back to the camp to eat and talk before the battle?’ They were riding in silence, thinking of the beauty of Rome and the undefeated army at its gates.

‘My Lord’ said Lucius, one of his trusted battle advisors. ‘Maxentius has twice as many people as we do’ the soldier spoke quietly but in his calm voice anxiety could be heard. ‘Moreover, he probably won't leave the city, just as he did the last time. Since we have less soldiers, we will need to get hold of the bridge, then the gate, and storm into the city. We were in many battles together, my lord, but this one doesn't look promising’ said the soldier, sadly lowering his head.

Constantine knew that even if he had twice as big army as Rome had, winning the city wouldn't be so easy, let alone the present situation. At the same time he knew that his people had been through a lot with him and they wanted the war to be over, just as much as he did. ‘If only I could make Maxentius leave the city walls’ he thought. The rest of the commanders stood around a table where a map of Rome was spread. They looked at the map and at one another, not saying a word.

‘I like challenges’ Constantine said. ‘Otherwise I wouldn't be a Caesar and we wouldn't be standing here today, facing the possibility of a final victory.’

He came closer to the table and looked at the map. He smiled at the soldiers.

‘Go to bed now’ he said. „Tomorrow we shall talk and find a way to win the battle and end this war.’

Seeing their leader in such a good mood, the commanders took it for a good sign and believed that he certainly had a plan which he will soon share with them.

‘Diodorius, gift of Zeus and of my mother’ whispered Constantine after the commanders left and he stayed alone, sitting on his throne.

‘Yes, Constantine?’ asked a quiet voice from the darkened part of the tent.

‘This time I have completely no idea…’

‘Well… There is one more idea which may be helpful but you keep rejecting it…’ answered the voice. ‘You don't believe in God and therefore you don't understand the power of religion and the fanaticism connected with it. People alone have limited powers and limited will, even if they are to act their ruler's will. But in the name of God, dear Constantine, they can do anything…’ whispered the voice. ‘They will kill, rape and plunder, and what is more, they will be convinced that they are going to be awarded for what they have done.’

‘Enough, Diodorius. I will not use your advice and plan a battle based on some stupid superstitions’ Constantine answered angrily.

‘Christians, Constantine, Christians…’ the voice continued softly. ‘If you don't have any other ideas, why don't you make a bet with me? If I lose, you will do anything you want with me. If I win, you will think about following three pieces of my advice.’

‘Since when does a servant bargain with his master, Diodorius?’ Constantine asked sarcastically, aware that he had no other choice but to follow his friend advice. Since the early childhood the Greek was his teacher, mentor and advisor, and he has never let him down. There was a movement in the darker part of the tent. Someone stood up and started to walk slowly. A sound of pouring wine into a chalice could be heard.

‘Constantine’ Diodorius' voice became clearer as he walked out of the shadow. He was a man in the prime of life. With a body of a twenty-year-old athlete, his age could be read only on his face and in his gray hair. He quoted:

‘For as children tremble and fear everything in the blind darkness,

so we in the light sometimes fear

what is no more to be feared than the things children in the dark

hold in terror and imagine will come true.’

The Greek moved as if in slow motion, with grace and strength of a predator, ready to attack at any time. For a while Constantine wondered how old his friend was. Since he remembered Diodorius has always looked the same. ‘Calisthenics and diet’ he thought. ‘They must be the key to longevity.’

‘Have a drink’ the Greek suggested. ‘Please, listen to what I have to tell you.’ He handed Constantine some wine and started talking. ‘Maxentius is vain and I know his has an advantage but…’

It was around midnight. The camp was peaceful, most of the soldiers were sleeping, the rest were warming themselves by the fire. The guards had their eyes wide open because the risk of a night attack on Constantine and an attempt of murder was great, since that would save the city. That night the best and most trusted soldiers were guarding Caesar's tent. Suddenly a noise and Constantine's scream was heard from the tent.

‘Aagh!’ the Caesar moaned, tripping over while he was running out of the tent. He made so much noise that not only the guards, but also soldiers from the tents nearby came alarmed.

Constantine was kneeling and moaning, looking at the moon and reaching his hands in front of him.

‘My lord, what's wrong?’ terrified voices could be heard from all around.

Suddenly awake, Constantine took out his dagger and draw a XP sign in front of him, saying ‘In hoc signum vincis.’ And then he passed out.

‘What does it mean?’ the soldiers asked.

Diodorius made his way through the crowd. ‘These are Greek letters 'chi' and 'rho'‘ he said. ‘Quickly, get him inside.’

The soldiers lifted him up and carried into the tent, where they carefully placed him on his bed. They had a great admiration for him since he was a just ruler, who cared for his subjects and fought among his soldiers as equal. A gossip that the Caesar had a vision sent from God was already spreading around the camp. Since Constantine himself did not believe in any god, he was not aware of what people were capable of doing in the name of religion and god. He also didn't know how many Christians were there among his troops, and in the whole empire. He was to learn that Diodorius' comprehensive education and knowledge were as always far from being overrated.

The Greek elbowed his way through the soldiers surrounding the bed and looked at the young Caesar. He splashed a full chalice of water on Constantine's face, and slapped him so hard that the sound of his palm hitting Caesar's cheek could be mistaken for a thunder. Some of the soldiers began wondering how will Constantine punish Diodorius for that when he wakes up.

Caesar blinked, looked around the room and repeated quietly ‘In hoc signum vincis.’ He drew the Greek letters ‘chi’ and ‘rho’ in the air. After that he starred at the ceiling dully.

General Octavius Gaius who saw everything since Constantine's awakening was also in the tent. He approached his bed, sank to his knees, and said ‘The ruler blessed by God himself.’ All the people in the tent kneeled as well.

Diodorius stood nearby and watched the scene. ‘We have a chance now, at last…’ he thought.

***

Constantine took rest and refused to see anyone for a whole day. Diodorius became his only connection with the outside world.

‘Was I convincing?’ he asked. ‘How was it?’

‘As for you, my dear Constantine, it was very convincing’ answered the Greek. ‘I bet a few chalices of wine had their influence on your success as well, for sure they enhanced your acting talent’ he added, smiling. ‘From what I saw in the camp, such an impulse was exactly what your soldiers needed.

‘Had it been for the wine, I wouldn't have done it. Moreover, I would slap you back twice as hard’ Constantine said, grinning. ‘You've cut my lip’ he added, touching the swollen place.

‘Apologies for that’ said his teacher, handing him a cup of herbal infusion. ‘Sleep now, we have a lot of work for the evening.’

‘The only difference between a god and a good man is his duration’ quoted Constantine.

The Greek thought for a while. ‘For common people religion is the truth, for wise man it's falsehood and for rulers it's just useful’ he answered.

No one was resting in the camp, everybody knew what happened the previous night. Soldiers were as if newborn, full of spirit to fight. General Octavius prepared a plan of the battle and sent a messenger to Maxentius' court.

‘Do you think it will work?’ he asked Diodorius when the messenger vanished from their sight, forcing his horse to gallop.

‘We will see tomorrow, Octavius’ answered the Greek, smiling and walked towards Constantine's tent.

‘If it works,’ thought the general ‘I will ask for help in my brother's case.’

***

My dear Brother in blood and faith,

I remember when we were children and we grew up together, and how we both promised to became soldiers and serve the Caesar.

I also remember how, while studying, we both became Christians without permission.

You have decided to serve Maxentius as the only right ruler and I have chosen to follow Constantine as the only true Caesar.

Constantine had a vision from God. The great and proud Caesar wept on his knees. He wrote the signs of ‘chi’ and ‘rho’, repeating ‘In hoc signum vincis’.

Brother, I want you to know that I will advise my master to put the signs of our God on our shields, helmets and banners. As an army of one true God we will march on Rome.

This is why I'm begging you, my Brother. It's not too late for you. If you do not wish to betray Maxentius, think that you are acting on behalf of our only true God himself.

Think it over, please, and I can promise you that my master Constantine will award your deeds.

Your loving brother in blood and faith,

Octavius

***

Marcius Quintus, the general of Maxentius' army and his close advisor, read the letter carefully three times, folded it and threw into the fireplace. The second page of the letter he folded in half and hid carefully. When he was sure that the letter has burnt completely, he mixed the ash in the fireplace so that the remaining of the paper were not readable. He looked at the messenger and said ‘Tell the one that sent you here that faith makes miracles.’

The messenger bowed and left the room without a word. After a few minutes he left the city and galloped towards Malborghetto. ‘Rome is well prepared’ Marcius thought. ‘It's not the first siege of the city. Soldiers are ready, we have significant food supplies and it's already the end of October. Even if Constantine will besiege the city, sooner or later he will have to withdraw. Moreover, his soldiers will freeze during the first attacks of winter in November. What is more, we already have a plan. Just as we did the last time, we will stay in the city and protect its walls and gate, and when the time comes we will counterattack and that's it.’

The general walked towards Maxentius' chamber, passing by the guards that stood to attention at his sight. Maxentius was in the yard and he seemed busy. The scene Marcius was about to watch was just one of many he has already witnessed. Maxentius was surrounded by praetorians. In front of him a man and a woman were kneeling with their hands tied.

‘Good to see you, Marcius’ said Maxentius.

‘Welcome, my lord’ answered the general. ‘He will torment those people like a cat torments his prey’ thought Maxentius, disgusted.

‘Oh, come on’ said the Caesar excited with the whole situation when he saw Marcius' face. ‘Look at this Christian vermin!’ he shouted. ‘This is my slave and his, as he named it, wedded wife’ said Maxendius, pointing at the tied pair in front of him. ‘I just can't believe how many of those pests I have already killed but they just keep coming back and multiple. More and more, disgusting!’ the Caesar lamented. ‘Slave!’ Maxentius turned to the kneeling man. ‘Am I a bad master? What have I done to you that you betrayed me with your Jewish religion?’

‘We are no Jews, my lord’ the woman said, crying.

‘That prophet of yours, whatever his name was…’

‘Jesus, my lord’ Maxius reminded.

‘Yes, that Jesus, he was a Jew, right? And from what I recall he wanted to make a new Jewish sect, and this is why the Jewish court of Sanhedrin sentenced him to death. And that's not enough! Your governor Pilate asked the crowd if they wanted that actually not very dangerous freak Jesus or a criminal named Barabbas to be set free. And they wanted Barabbas! What will you say for that, huh?’ Maxentius asked in fury.

‘My lord’ began the slave. ‘We are not changing our fate. We are and we will be slaves, and you are a good master. But our religion says that in the eyes of the only true God everyone was born free and equal, and that after death our deeds will be judged. Only the just can sit next to their God in paradise.’

‘Can you hear that, Marcius?’ Maxentius shouted. ‘The enemy occupies our gates and those fools are telling me follies about equality. What? Life in prosperity after death? Look at us! Are we equal?’ shouted the Caesar. ‘I rule Rome and you can't even read! I'm sick of it!’ he added.

Maxentius got out his sword and approached the tied couple.

‘The deal is as follows’ he said. ‘Your woman, slave, will be given to praetorians, the sons of Rome who are risking their lives for me, their only master. And if you don't like it you can always ask your God to stop me when you meet him in a minute’ Maxentius finished, putting his sword through the slaves body on his wife's eyes. The woman wept and begged for mercy in vain.

‘One less’ the Caesar said. He stepped back from the man's body, wiped the blade and looked at his shoes which were dirty with blood.

‘Marcius, you needed me I recall?’ he asked.

Marcius stood there looking at the body which still shivered on the floor, bleeding out on the marble tiles, and on a crying woman, carried away to the building by to praetorians. ‘How long will it last?’ Marcius asked himself in his head. He could understand war and two men fighting each other, but what had just happened here did not make any sense to him, especially because he was a Christian as well. He knew very well that despite his contribution he would share those slaves fate if the Caesar found out about it.

‘Marcius’ Maxentius repeated. ‘Why aren't you talking?’

‘Yes, my lord, apologies’ the general answered. ‘I'm bringing important news from Constantine's camp’ Marcius whispered into Maxentius' ear. ‘We need to talk in private, my lord. And later we should summon the commanders, if you will find it necessary.’

‘Let us go then’ said the Caesar, still looking at his dirty robes. ‘Wait for me in my chamber. I need to change. That Christian bastard made my shoes dirty. Disgusting!’ Maxentius said, walking towards the building. Marcius stood alone in the yard and starred at the moon. All he could hear were horses whinnying and a woman screaming…

Marcius Quintus, the general of Maxentius' army and his personal advisor, made up his mind.

***

They were sitting in a chamber, close to each other. The guards behind the door were doubled. They were drinking wine and talking about a new strategy for the following day. It was the following day when Maxentius was to become the only ruler.

‘As soon as I kill my friend Constantine, I will cut off his head and place it on the top of my spear’ said Maxentius in a sleepy voice. ‘I want everyone to see it. And after that I will finish those Christians once and for ever.’

‘My lord’ Marcius began. ‘I haven't told you that earlier because I consider it as a flaw on my honor and on the name of my family. My brother Octavius, your brother-in law's general, has converted to Christianity some time ago.’

‘Don't tell me Constantine converted too?’ the Caesar asked angrily.

‘No, my lord, I know nothing about it. Still, the emperor cannot be a Christian. This is a letter from my brother’ Marcius said and haded Maxentius a piece of paper.

My dear Brother,

I know that you don't want to know me because of my religion.

I am sending you this letter and information because I believe that you are still capable of brotherly love, and that you will beg your master, the only and true Caesar, for mercy for your family.

There are many of us in Constantine's army and we have had enough of a vagabond life, wounds and cold. We know we cannot win Rome and that most probably we will freeze at the gates of the Eternal City.

We are ready to kill Constantine or desert at the sight of your army.

I am begging you and your master for mercy, my brother.

Yours,

Octavius

‘So it will happen tomorrow, Marcius’ Maxentius said happily. ‘Finally! Let me read it one more time’

‘Yes, my lord’ Marcius agreed quietly.

‘Those rotten cowardly bastards want to murder their Caesar?’ Maxentius was appalled. ‘Only I can kill him, only me and no one else!’ the Caesar stood up. ‘We are changing our strategy, Marcius. You will prepare all the forces for an unexpected attack. As soon as Constantine comes close to the city and begins locating his troops, we will attack him. You will command the army with me, my friend. It will end by the Milivian bridge. And it will be me who kills my brother-in-law, me and not any Christian insect!’

‘My lord’ asked Marcius warily. ‘May I have the honor of killing my brother to rebuilt my family name?’

‘I trust you will do it, Marcius’ Maxentius said with a solemn look.

‘Of course, my lord’ the general answered. He walked out of the chamber and he immediately knew that the guards had heard everything. ‘Call the board of commanders!’ he ordered.

***

October 28th, 1065 A.U.C.

‘My lord’ general Octavius said. ‘The plan was successful. Maxentius commanded to built a crossing along the Milivian bridge which he had previously ordered to destroy for fear of being attacked. On one hand this crossing will help him attack us quickly and on the other it will be a trap for us if we decide to attack.’

Constantine sat in silence, looking at the people gathered around him. ‘I shall ride at the head of cavalry and turn my dear brother-in-law into ashes’ he decided. ‘Octavius,’ the Caesar looked at his general. ‘You will attack together with the infantry. If they fail to organize themselves properly you shall push them back into Tiber and I will aid you.’

‘My lord’ said Diodorius. ‘You should command the battle and not take part in it…’

‘I thank you for your attention Diodorius, the gift of Zeus and my mother’ Constantine stopped him. ‘I have been enlightened by God himself. Our army holds His sign on shields and banners We shall win!’ the Caesar exclaimed and a few of the generals sank to their knees with eyes full of tears.

Constantine's soldiers knew that since the previous night they were not only their Caesar's servants. They knew they were God's warriors who had been blessed through Constantine's vision. They knew they were fulfilling God's plan, and since God himself commanded to fight this war, they are going to win and get Rome. They were ready as they had never been before. The signs of ‘chi’ and ‘rho’ gave them strength and faith.

***

Maxentius was ready for the battle from early morning. He walked around in his armor and admired his best horse. ‘Marcius!’ he exclaimed.

‘Yes, my lord’ answered the general approaching his master.

‘Is the bridge ready?’

‘Yes, my lord.’

‘The trap?’

‘Yes, my lord.’

‘The troops are ready?’

‘Yes, my lord.’

‘And are you ready to kill your brother and become one of the most powerful people in Rome?’

‘I am, my lord’ Marcius lied. He just wanted this nightmare to be over. After years of service he didn't care anymore. He could even become a farmer, it is an owner of a latifundium with slaves. Maybe he would marry or buy some pretty slave girls… When the Caesar left, Marcius turned to the remaining commanders.