Son of Julius Caesar: Rebuilding Rome [Business/Republic building] Chapter 88 : Rubicon

After sending a letter to Felix, I set out for the next city.

"Riding through Italy like this isn’t bad at all."

Marching alongside the cavalry of the allied cities was more enjoyable than I had expected.

Even with Roman roads cutting through it, Italy’s unspoiled landscape was breathtaking.

That is, if one ignored the massive cross at the head of the column.

"Urrgh..."

Seleucus, the bandit boss who had led the gangs in the Aurunci Mountains, groaned weakly from where he hung nailed to the cross.

After hanging there for over a week, he seed to have lost even the strength to writhe in pain.

I’d heard most n died within a few days.

It was remarkable that he’s lasted this long.

I stared at the cross from atop my horse.

Brutus and Antony, who were forever at each other’s throats, had agreed on exactly one thing throughout the whole campaign.

They both insisted that the other bandits could be sold off, Seleucus absolutely had to be crucified to set a grim example.

And so, we had been parading through the allied cities with the cross and its crucified burden displayed at the head of the column.

To , it was undeniably barbaric, but I couldn’t argue with the results.

Any bandit who witnessed this grueso spectacle—or even heard the rumors—would imdiately rethink their career choices.

Still, nailing a man to a wooden cross and leaving him to slowly die... It just felt unnecessarily cruel.

On top of that, the soldiers gave him water every morning so he wouldn’t die of thirst.

As I was lost in thought, Brutus trotted his horse up alongside mine.

"Even the allied cities we haven’t visited yet are already expressing their gratitude. I hear the citizens of Ro are hearing of our achievents day after day as well."

"That would be thanks to you and Pompeia, then." I replied.

Pompeia was busy turning my letters into political pamphlets, while Brutus was turning the record of our campaign into a published account.

The political instincts of Romans in this age were extraordinary.

Maybe it was because the Republic and the Senate had survived for so many centuries, but their political instincts were frighteningly keen.

Even far from Ro, I was still able to strengthen my political position thanks to them.

"What did I really do? I rely put your deeds into words.," Brutus said, clearing his throat.

"The roads haven’t been this safe in the entire history of Ro. And you accomplished it in a re matter of weeks. That is a feat worthy of the highest praise, is it not?"

"It’s not over yet."

I turned my gaze forward.

It seed the scouts had already grown accustod to their new equipnt. Far ahead in the distance, a signal kite flew high, indicating that the road was clear.

"You can’t wipe out banditry entirely with a single campaign"

"So, what’s your plan then?"

"We need to establish a permanent structure which allied cities can imdiately dispatch cavalry through the signal towers. And to make that official, we’re going to need the Senate’s approval."

The allied cities carrying out their own operations against local bandits was fine.

But a coordinated network of dispatching cavalry along the roads of Italy? The Senate would absolutely see that as dangerous.

"You’re planning to pass a new law, then?" Brutus asked.

"There’s no shortage of n in the Senate who are bitterly envious over your recent success."

"I’m sure there are. But this isn’t just my success," I said with a smile.

Years of office politics in my past life had taught one thing: Sharing glory and credit does not lessen what is yours.

More often than not, it only increases it.

"Besides, the Senate was the one who dispatched here in the first place."

Reaching out, I pointed at the open road ahead.

"So isn’t it only natural that the Senate receives its share of the praise?"

A man who stands out too far invites attack.

A man who claims all the glory for himself makes enemies everywhere.

But who in their right mind would attack the man who was publicly giving them the credit?

***

"Did you hear the news?"

The senaculum, where senators gathered before official sessions, was bustling with voices as usual.

But today, the atmosphere was noticeably different.

"Word is Lucius stopped by Larinum a few days ago."

"He’s moving at a terrifying pace."

"Well, he’s only traveling with cavalry. What did you expect?"

"I heard he made a fortune selling the captured bandits to the slave rchants. Makes you wonder how much money he’s making, doesn’t it?"

When Lucius Caesar first left Ro on his so-called road inspection assignnt, hardly any Senators had paid him much attention.

Even with his impressive track record in business, roads were still only roads.

Unless Lucius was building new roads himself, there didn’t seem to be much he could actually accomplish out there.

However, contrary to their expectations, news of his campaign kept arriving in Ro day after day.

As pamphlets detailing his campaign began circulating through the city, the citizens of Ro quickly beca captivated the story.

"Damn it, who could have predicted that little brat would pull off sothing this massive?"

"We have no choice but to acknowledge it now," Hortensius muttered.

He stood in the center of the Senaculum, flanked by tellus and their allied senators.

When they first orchestrated the young Caesar’s exile from Ro, they thought they had won a complete victory.

They had successfully achieved their primary goal: preventing the boy from joining forces with his father.

But they had failed to predict a single move Lucius Caesar made afterward.

He had won the goodwill of the allied cities with promises of major investnt, rallying their cavalry, all but wiping out banditry on the roads of Italy in a matter of weeks.

And to top it all off, rescuing hundreds of captive Roman citizens.

"With every new dispatch that arrives, popular support for the Caesars grows stronger."

"We tried to get rid of the problem and only made it grow," tellus sighed heavily.

"And the worst part is, we were the ones who granted him the imperium and sent him out there. Which leaves us with no justification to criticize him. If we attack him now, we’ll essentially be spitting in our own faces."

"So, what do we do?"

"First, we drag out the administrative procedures to ensure he’s bogged down in the allied cities for as long as possible..." Hortensius started to say.

It was then that a slave sprinted toward them, gasping for breath.

"M-Master!"

"What is it?"

"Lucius Caesar has sent an official letter to the Senate!"

"A letter?" Hortensius scowled. "What kind of letter?"

"A letter condemning us, obviously," tellus scoffed. "He’s probably bragging about everything he’s achieved and whining that the Senate offered him no support. He’s going to use this opportunity to use the support of the allied cities and attack us."

"W-Well, actually..." the slave stamred, glancing nervously between the two n.

"He proposed a series of asures to prevent banditry in the future... and he said he wished to na the newly constructed signal tower in Larinum after you, Master."

"After... ?" Hortensius murmured.

He and tellus exchanged stunned looks.

"He publicly announced that it is a token of his deepest gratitude toward you, for providing him with the opportunity to eradicate the bandit threat."

"..."

While the rest of the Senaculum buzzed with heated debate, an awkward silence hung heavy between tellus and Hortensius.

***

"He’s a truly unusual boy," Cicero muttered, tapping his quill against the parchnt.

His slave and secretary, Tiro, set down a cup of wine and asked, "Who are you referring to, Master?"

"The young Caesar. Did you see how he publicly expressed his gratitude to Hortensius? He even went so far as to na a tower after him."

"Was he not rely mocking him?" Tiro suggested.

"Or perhaps he’s deliberately placing Hortensius in a position where he can’t oppose him. Hortensius was the one who pushed for Caesar to take this assignnt. How could he possibly criticize him now?"

"Yes, that’s undoubtedly part of his calculus," Cicero nodded.

"But anyone else would have used this massive victory solely to increase his own glory. Pompey certainly would have."

Cicero let out a dry chuckle.

From the legendary Scipio Africanus down to Marius, Sulla, and Pompey.

It was the nature of Roman politicians to hoard prestige and authority for themselves.

Everyone outside of one’s family and kin was a potential rival.

Who in their right mind would deliberately polish an enemy’s reputation?

Yet, that was exactly what Lucius Caesar was doing.

"If Pompey had pulled this off, he’d be strutting around the Forum boasting that he single-handedly saved Italy, wouldn’t he?"

"He certainly did when he crushed the pirates," Tiro shrugged.

"But isn’t Lucius Caesar also promoting his own achievents through books and pamphlets?"

"Yes, but he explicitly upheld the honor of Hortensius and the Senate while doing so. That is the difference."

Cicero finally set his quill down.

Marius had marched his army into Ro and brutally slaughtered his political opponents.

Sulla had retaliated with purges and massacres on a far more horrifying scale.

Countless Romans still rembered the grisly sight of severed heads displayed on the Rostra.

Political failure ant death. Thus every Roman politician was fixated on expanding his own faction while annihilating their enemies.

But the young Caesar’s actions ran contrary to that brutal logic.

He fought a vicious battle against tellus for a post among the vigintisexviri, yet he never sought retribution afterward.

He was thanking Hortensius—the very man who had exiled him from Ro.

He had even proposed naming so towers after nurous senators, asking nothing in return.

"Peculiar is the only word for it, wouldn’t you agree?"

"When you put it that way, Master, it does seem strange..." Tiro scratched his head. "But at the end of the day, isn’t he just doing whatever best serves his own success?"

"Obviously, he’s fighting for his own success!" Cicero burst into hearty laughter.

"My point is that his thods are different."

It was right at that mont.

A great uproar rose from outside his domus.

"Caesar has returned! Caesar has returned!"

The cries of n rippled through the streets, growing louder by the second.

"What in Jupiter’s na..."

Cicero shot up from his seat and hurried toward the front gates.

Throwing the doors open before Tiro could stop him, he stared out at the street outside.

Several n were sprinting down the street, crying out at the top of their voices.

"Caesar is back!"

"Caesar has returned!"

Citizens leaned out of their windows, and the people on the streets stopped in their tracks to listen.

Tiro approached Cicero, who was standing motionless in the doorway.

"Did Lucius Caesar return early? I heard he only just arrived in Larinum."

"It’s not Lucius," Cicero said.

"Pardon?"

"It’s impossible for Lucius to be here now. Even riding as hard as possible, Larinum is several days away," Cicero muttered.

If the shouts echoing through the streets were true, it could only an one thing.

"Gaius Julius Caesar has returned."

***

Caesar has returned!

The news spread rapidly through Ro and across Italy.

The Imperator who had served as a remarkably successful governor in Hispania, subduing the local tribes that had resisted Roman rule for decades and forcing them into submission.

No governor in Roman history had ever achieved so many victories in such a short tenure.

Naturally, his return seized the attention of the entire Republic.

But it wasn’t just because of his own legendary reputation.

"Isn’t Lucius Caesar still out there hunting down bandits?"

"Like father, like son. The blood of the great houses truly is different."

"There will be a triumph soon, surely. Aren’t you excited?"

Father and son.

Gaius and Lucius.

They were the two fastest-rising n in Roman politics.

While the citizens’ anticipation reached a fever pitch, the news of Caesar’s arrival finally reached Lucius’s camp.

"What did you say?"

"Gaius Julius Caesar has sent word. He wishes to see you, Imperator."

"I heard that part. I ant the location," I said.

The officer looked slightly flustered as he replied.

"The Rubicon, sir."

"The Rubicon river..."

I muttered the na.

My father, Caesar, was waiting for at the Rubicon.

Why did that sentence fill with such an ominous feeling?

"Imperator? Is there a problem?"

"No," I replied with a smile.

"Inform the n imdiately. As soon as we break camp, we ride for the Rubicon."

"But sir, we still have several allied cities left to visit—"

"Brutus and Antony will complete the rest of the tour in my stead."

Leaving the command tent, I swung myself onto my horse.

Hortensius and his conservative friends had gone to all this trouble to exile from Ro, just to ensure I couldn’t join my father.

But now that I’ve effectively cleared the roads of Italy of bandits, no one would dare tell where I may or may not go.

I had more than earned the right.

Not even the Senate could publicly reprimand now.

I looked down at the confused officer.

"We ride for the Rubicon."