The Last Roman

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The streets of Rome are not to be traversed carelessly by night, for all forms of vagabonds dwell within the shadowed corners and narrow alleyways that dominate the city during its nocturnal hours. It is there where many a pickpocket and thief lurk in anticipation, hoping for the simple chance that an aimless passerby would wander their way, and be it known that there were those who would do far worse. But such thoughts were far from the mind of young Marcus Varus, who could think of little else but how brazenly stupid the learned men of Rome actually were.

The thought dominated his mind as he approached the Palatine Hill and the great Temple of Lupercal located beneath. Now the home of the Caesars, legend told that this unassuming mound of earth was where the divine founders, Romulus and Remus, were raised by their adoptive she-wolf nearly eight hundred years ago. It was the place of Lupercalia, one of Rome’s most sacred rituals, and where Varus had come this night to defend with his life.

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