All Roads Lead to Rome (The Praetorian Series - Book IV)

By Edward Crichton

Nothing will ever be the same again.

After the unfortunate events that took place in Britain, Jacob Hunter is no longer certain of many things, but this ill-fated truth is one he understands implicitly. Having spent months battling his addiction to the all-powerful blue orb, a device capable of traveling through time but equally adept at breaking a man’s mind, Jacob has finally succumbed to it. Once aided by loyal companions and the woman he loves, Jacob has abandoned everyone he has ever trusted, his mind warped by the orb’s influence.

However, recently given new clues concerning the orb’s potential, Jacob departs for Rome, where he now knows a second orb lay hidden, waiting to be reunited with the orb he already possesses. Accompanied only by Rome’s manipulative empress, Agrippina the Younger, the pair journey to Rome where they hope to discover the secret to the orb’s power, but a destructive truth lies behind what they seek, one he may not be fully prepared to combat...

But Jacob is not the only one about to embark on a daring quest. Having been abandoned and left without direction in the hinterlands of ancient Britain, Jacob’s sister, Diana, must find it in herself to rally Jacob’s jilted friends and corral an enraged Helena, the woman he loves, who carries her own mysterious secret after her life was miraculously saved at the brink of death.

Unprepared for the responsibility suddenly thrust on her by her brother’s disappearance, Diana still understands one thing. Her brother’s mind is not his own, nor is he the only individual capable of wielding the orb’s power. She too has this ability, and she knows Jacob all too well. Clouded and perverted though his mind may be, she knows Jacob will do everything he can to find it, even if that means he must sacrifice his own life...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Edward Crichton
• Release date: Sep 13, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310535796

Edward Crichton

Edward Crichton, a native Clevelander, lives in Chicago, Illinois with his wife, where he spends his time coming to grips with his newfound sports allegiances. A long time enthusiast of Science Fiction, Fantasy, History and everything in between, he spends his time reading, writing, and overusing his Xbox (he wishes). Until recently, Crichton had often hoped for a cat, but his wife decided to let him have a baby boy instead. Born in November of 2013, the child has turned into a little hellion but he and his wife couldn't be happier Nearly two years old at the time of this Bio update, said little hellion has grown into a wonderful little boy who keeps his daddy busy and occupied doing anything and everything but writing. Now a work-from-home-dad, Crichton squeezes in bouts of writing when he can. Due to his changed lifestyle, he has decided to shift his focus to shorter stories to improve productivity. His first novella, Along the Path of Darkness, will be released October 1, 2015. Following its release, Crichton will return to work on his long dormant Starfarer Series, again focusing on tighter stories to keep the words flowing...

Book preview

All Roads Lead to Rome

Praetorian Series Book IV

By Edward Crichton

Copyright 2014

Smashwords Edition

This ebook is licensed for your enjoyment only and is not to be reproduced, resold, or altered in any way. The author thanks you for respecting his intellectual property. If you wish to share this novel with others, please refer them to Smashwords.com.

Acknowledgments

Thanks to Amanda, George, Michelle, and Teresa for helping me put this monster together.

Books by Edward Crichton

The Praetorian Series

The Last Roman (Book I)

To Crown a Caesar (Book II)

A Hunter and His Legion (Book III)

All Roads Lead to Rome (Book IV)

Starfarer

Rendezvous with Destiny

A War with Oneself

Table of Contents

Forward

What Came Before…

Prologue

I – Aftermath

II – Fugitives

III – Direction

IV – Rubicon

V – Leadership

VI – Déjà vu

VII – Science

VIII – [Redacted]

IX – Rescue

X – Withdrawal

XI – Sacrifice

XII – Farewells

Epilogue

Author’s Bio

For My Son

Forward

If you can’t wait to dive into the story, feel free to skip this section completely or return to it when you’re finished. But just a quick note before you go. If you like maps when reading books, feel free to search for one of Ancient Rome on the internet. Anything with the city’s hills and more notable landmarks should serve you just fine. Besides that, there’s nothing of interest in this section that pertains to the story itself, nor any hidden secrets, insights, or bits of enlightenment. All you will find here is a simple thank you from an author who can’t thank the lot of you enough.

So feel free to jump ahead to the good stuff if you want.

I’ll wait.

Back yet? Never left? Good.

So let’s start at the beginning.

I first wrote The Last Roman in 2007, when I was still in my last year of college. I’d written it based off of a few pages I’d written a few years earlier in the sole (emphasis on sole) writing course I ever took, my very first attempt at writing, something about Secret Service agents fighting aliens, featuring a female sniper and a protagonist named Dexter Something who had an interest in history.

No joke.

That’s about all I remember of that first horrible failure at being creative with the written word, but, somehow, The Last Roman grew out of it, and I immediately knew that it was destined for box office gold – ah, the blissful ignorance of youth…

I was in college. I was young and dumb and brash and did I mention dumb? The roughness of that youth is still quite evident in the words of that first book, the one I assume all you brave souls have already read – everything from its story, to its characterization, to its prose. I like to think that I’ve improved as a writer since then, although as any parent would tell you, raising a child seems to in fact make you dumber, so I’m honestly not sure whether I’ve improved at all or regressed completely since the birth of my son.

I guess that will be for you to judge in the days to come.

I’m not trying to make excuses, but simply outline, quite broadly, how far my life has taken me in just seven years. It’s been a bumpy ride, although most of it was for the best. Life has a tendency to throw all kinds of curve balls at us as we progress through its vagaries, and, believe me, if you’d told me seven years ago when I was writing The Last Roman to impress a girl that I’d never, not once, date, that my life would be anything like it is today, I’d have slapped you.

But here I am.

And here you are, as well.

If you’ve made it this far, I assume you’ve already read the previous three books in this series (and you really should if you haven’t already). That, in of itself, amazes me. Illusions of stardom wore off quite quickly in the months that followed my unsuccessful attempts to publish The Last Roman through traditional means seven years ago, and by the time I finally relented to self-publishing in 2011, I had little hope that it would amount to anything. But I was wrong. While I have most certainly not become a Dan Brown or J.K. Rowling, my little (okay, they’re actually quite long) books have found a bit of success. The fact that you people are reading the fourth book in my series is astounding to me, and I can’t thank you enough for sticking with me this far.

I never expected any of this.

That said, I know the ending to A Hunter and His Legion might have hurt a little bit. Believe me, I know. Because it hurt me too. A lot. Especially having to write it while my wife was pregnant. But it was only the third part of a four part series. It wasn’t the end. There is, quite obviously, more to come. I won’t make any promises concerning this book, solely because I want to avoid spoilers, but I still want to thank you personally, from the very bottom of my heart, for supporting me and these characters. Writing this final book in this series that I, myself, have come to love so much, was a real struggle, so thank you so very much for all your support. All of your emails and tweets and Facebook posts were (and are) very much appreciated, because each and every one gave me the inspiration and drive to carry on… which isn’t exactly easy when trying to write in between a few hour long naps (if I’m lucky) every day.

So, read on, Faithful Readers, and enjoy.

See you on the other side.

What Came Before…

In the year 2021, as the world was engulfed in the fires of war, US Navy SEAL Jacob Hunter transferred his service to a clandestine Special Operations team based out of the Vatican. Comprised of international operators from various backgrounds, the team was tasked with the elimination of external threats to the pope… or so they thought.

During their first operation, Jacob and his team discovered an odd spherical object of a very curious nature. In the midst of battle, Jacob unknowingly came into contact with this orb, accidently activating a powerful mechanism that hurled his team through time and space. Finding themselves in Ancient Rome during the age of Caligula, Jacob and his comrades were faced with an unbelievable predicament: they were trapped in the past.

Unable to return home, the team was forced to deal with the denizens of the Roman Empire, interacting with many notable historical figures including Caligula, Claudius, the Roman general Servius Galba, and Caligula’s beautiful and conniving sister, Agrippina the Younger. Jacob recognized the destructive potential of dealing with these individuals, and quickly realized that they were in fact altering past events due to their influence. Jacob sought to maintain history’s status quo, but events unraveled too quickly for him to control.

History had changed, a Caesar was deposed, and only through a devastating battle that had nearly taken from him the woman he’d come to love, Helena, was the crisis averted. Caligula, who wasn’t nearly as insane as history remembered, was restored to power, but his reign was short lived when he was murdered by his sister, Agrippina, who inherited the mantle of empress. Jacob, under suspicion for the murder, was forced to flee Rome and live in exile with Helena and his closest friend, Johnathon Santino.

Agrippina, it seemed, was destined to become their primary adversary.

Years passed on the run from authorities, but Jacob was simply biding his time. Hoping to replace Agrippina with Vespasian, a man destined to become emperor himself one day, Jacob, Helena, and Santino attempt to kidnap her son, Nero, for use as leverage against her. However, the operation was a failure, and Jacob was finally reunited with the blue orb, the time travel device that had brought him to Ancient Rome to begin with, which is also when he began to sense its destructive potential. It was not fully understood at the time by anyone, least of all Jacob, but the orb was dangerous, not just because of its ability to haphazardly travel through time, but because it had the means to control those who wielded it. With enough exposure, it could control an individual’s mind and bend it for evil intent.

But Jacob was not yet destined for such devastation.

Not yet, at least.

Upon the failure of their mission, Jacob and his friends fled to Byzantium, where they were reacquainted with Gaius and Marcus, old friends who were members of the Praetorian Guard, tasked with Agrippina’s protection, along with members of their original team who had dispersed years earlier: Jeanne Bordeaux, James Wang, and Vincent, a man who Jacob thought the world of.

Knowing they had no way to combat Agrippina and her hordes of Praetorians alone, despite all their advanced weaponry and tactics, Jacob concocted a plan to utilize a historical feud between Rome and Judea to draw Agrippina, and thus the orb, to them. A massive rebellion soon occurred there, which led to the fracturing of the Roman Empire, as many other rebellions flared up throughout the empire.

But their plan succeeded.

Agrippina had come with her orbs, of which there were now two, but in an assault planned to capture her, Jacob and his team found themselves captured in turn. All seemed lost until a trick of fate intervened. Jacob, who had never truly understood how the orb actually worked, managed to use it again and send himself, alone, into the past, where he could affect positive change on the outcome of the mission. Successfully able to alter the timeline and save his friends, he stumbled across another unanticipated side effect.

His influence over the events of that day had created a completely new timeline, one with not only a changed present, but a changed future. In the wake of battle, Jacob once again activated the orb, but instead of traveling to the future, he brought another group of individuals into the past. This group was comprised of fellow soldiers, a former friend from his time as a Navy SEAL named Paul Archer, and his very own sister, Diana Artie Hunter – who, like Jacob, had been essential in activating the orb.

But Diana and Archer were not exactly who he thought they were. They were from an alternate timeline. They were from a parallel reality, similar in nature to his own, but different because of his meddling in the past. These newcomers had come to aid Jacob and his friends simply because they hoped to attain the means to save their own society, which was grim and bleak.

Not fully understanding the implications of what he’d done, Jacob and his friends, both new and old, realized that to understand the orb and its power, they needed to seek out someone who knew more about it. They had but one clue: a note from Marcus Varus, the Roman who Jacob had originally connected with through the orb, the man who had unintentionally aided in their arrival in Rome. A scholar, he’d sought out new information pertaining to the orb’s origins, knowing only that the orb was somehow connected with Rome’s founders, Romulus and Remus, and an ancient Druid thought to have created the orb. In his note, Varus ordered Jacob to Britain, but not before they went to the Library of Alexandria, where more information awaited him.

Following Varus’ instructions, Jacob and his team set out for Alexandria aboard ships laden with legionnaires, a gift from Vespasian, himself, who had commissioned Jacob as a general in the Roman legions, tasking him with the pacification of Britain. Jacob had accepted the commission and had set out for Alexandria, but along the way, the blue orb had found its way back into Jacob’s possession once again. He’d been trying to keep his distance from the orb, having felt its negative influence already beginning to seep inside his head since their time in Judea. Unfortunately, he was no longer able to resist it. Unbeknownst to Jacob, the orb already had its foothold in his mind, and was beginning the slow, relentless process of subverting it.

Jacob had been drugged, and he had grown addicted to a substance he could no longer deny and could in no way combat as it slowly, unknowingly, destroyed his mind.

Having successfully found the information they needed in Alexandria, Jacob and his team set out for the Isle of Mona, modern day Anglesey, Wales. Landing in Britain near modern day London, Jacob, his team, and a reconnaissance force of legionnaires set out for Anglesey, where they encountered the British warrior-queen, Boudicca, a figure history remembers for her defiant role against Roman occupation, but who was then no older than twenty years of age. She aids them in their journey through Anglesey, where they come upon a settlement of Druids. They tell Jacob he must continue his journey north, but Jacob, the darkness of the orb fully in control of him now, orders his legionnaires to burn the village to the ground and murder its inhabitants. The brutal act ostracizes him completely from his friends, including his beloved Helena, now pregnant with their child. Their loss only exacerbates the negative, evil energy permeating his very soul.

Alone, depressed, angry, and evil, Jacob leads his legionnaires further north, and his team follows, watching him intently. It isn’t long, however, before Jacob catches up with another Roman expeditionary force deep in the heart of Ancient Britain, one led by none other than Agrippina, herself, searching for the very same information Jacob seeks. What’s more, she had already found something, and leads Jacob – temporarily recovered from his addiction to the orb – to a cottage in the middle of nowhere.

Belying the laws of physics in its mere presentation, only Jacob seems capable of entering the structure. When he does, he comes face to face with a man possessing unimaginable power and influence. Able to read Jacob’s mind, the man takes on the guise and persona of the Arthurian figure, Merlin – or is, in fact, the actual Merlin legend tells of. Jacob never fully understands, but learns from Merlin that there is another orb, a red orb, and when joined with the blue orb Jacob already possess, has the ability to take Jacob and his friends home.

Merlin explains that it is hidden back in Rome, and tasks Jacob with finding it.

With renewed purpose, Jacob returns to his friends, but a month has passed since Jacob first set foot in the cottage. Drained, weakened, and confused, Jacob returns to Helena, only to learn how unfavorably her pregnancy has progressed, the stress of Jacob’s recent possession and lack of proper medical care rendering her bedridden. But his return from both Merlin’s cottage and his bout with insanity strengthens her, and all seems well.

However, fate has never been kind to them, and it isn’t long before the entirety of Rome’s forces in the north are attacked by natives. Jacob, fighting while exhausted and nearly broken on the front lines, is suddenly recalled to Helena, who has taken a turn for the worse. He returns to her side only to find her close to death, having already delivered their son… stillborn.

Nearly at the end of his wits and with no other option left to him, Jacob seeks out Merlin, demanding aid.

Amazingly, aid is given and Helena is saved, but the emotional and physical wounds Jacob has had to endure are too much for him. No longer willing to place anyone else in danger, and his mind and soul weakened due the events of the day and the past month spent in Merlin’s care, Jacob seeks out the blue orb. Its draw on him had never truly dissipated, and broken and beaten as he was, he has no other option but to take it and draw strength from its empowering energy, at the expense of his logical, empathetic mind.

Jacob dooms himself to keep those he loves safe, his mind too broken to think through his decision rationally. Employing Agrippina’s aid, Jacob prepares to leave his friends behind and seek out the red orb alone. Once again possessed by the blue orb, Jacob is confronted by Archer as he attempts to leave, but soon after, in a bout of confusion brought on by the orb’s influence, Jacob unwittingly murders Vincent when his mentor and father figure tries to help him. Terrified at what he’d just done, the raw emotion of the act almost enough to break through the orb’s hold over him, Jacob is then unable to stop Agrippina from stabbing Santino when he too tries to apprehend them.

With absolutely nothing left, his unfortunate and unintentional acts having destroyed what little was left of the man who had once been Jacob Hunter, the orb was now in complete control. Jacob and Agrippina set out for Rome moments later while Jacob’s sister, Diana, cradles a wounded Santino in her arms and tries to make sense of what just happened, perhaps the only one left capable of picking up the broken pieces left behind by Jacob…

Prologue

My last name may have been Hunter, but I’d never connected much with the name’s etymology. I’d never been much of a hunter, having never once in my life felt like someone who could prey on others. I’d never even participated in any of the hunting trips my uncle would host when I was a child, but my brother, Jacob Hunter, had always looked forward to the random phone call that would announce one of my uncle’s expeditions.

Jacob had always been the impertinent one, too impatient, curious, and brash for his own good. He’d always gotten into more trouble than a mere sister could ever hope to bail him out of, but never more so than now. I wasn’t the military type, but as I watched him ride through the middle of the legion camp with Agrippina by his side, I knew Jacob would no longer be the hunter he always thought he was.

He would be the hunted.

The sun was just beginning to rise off in the distance as I watched Jacob astride his horse. He rode with confidence and precision, a sight I still found odd as one of my fondest memories from childhood was when he’d been bucked off a horse the moment he’d attempted to seat himself – his first and only attempt at mounting a horse, or so I’d thought. But now he rode with the sureness of a seasoned horseman.

As he rode, I watched as Jacob turned his head around without any obvious reason for why he would, his eyes finding my own quickly. Even though weren’t far apart, the look he offered me seemed to pass right through me, as though he was peering at a stranger, instead of his sister. I blinked rapidly as he disappeared behind a row of tents, unable to stop the tears that stung my eyes and rolled down my cheeks.

Artie…

The word came from my lap, weak and full of pain. I looked down just in time to see a trio of tears fall from my chin and splash against the hard and scarred but handsome face beneath me. I nearly jumped at my carelessness and moved to wipe them from his stubbly cheek.

Oh! John, I’m sorr…

No leave them, he said, his voice jittery but with the same sarcastic undertone I’d come to adore. His right hand clutched my own atop his chest and his face was in constant motion as he fought through the pain originating from his stomach wound. They feel kinda good actually.

I continued my efforts to blink away my tears, failed, and wiped my eyes against my shoulder to clear them. But, John, we need to…

Listen to me, Artie… he started, but then an outburst of coughs silenced him. I lifted my head and scanned the area around me, but could find no one to help me. After a moment, he settled down, and looked back up at me. I need… need you to do me a favor…

What? I demanded of him. "What?"

Medic…

I shook my head, not understanding.

Say medic, he repeated, then coughed again.

Medic, I said, confused.

He smiled at me, but it was clearly forced. He’d always been so good at smiling that I knew it must have been a struggle for him now. He lifted his left hand, smeared in blood, and pressed it against my own hand that sat atop his chest, and spoke again. Hey… Artie. I could listen to you say medic all day. It’s too darn cute, but… but I really need you to call… a medic for me. They don’t just do it… in… the movies…

Finally, I understood, and lifted my head and yelled out with everything I had in me. "Medic!"

At first I thought no one had heard me. There were Roman soldiers wandering everywhere around me, but none seemed to care that I was holding a wounded man in my lap. They’d just participated in a battle, and they’d seen plenty of other wounded men today already. Out of the corner of my eye, another body on the ground caught my attention, this one unmoving, already dead. I hadn’t known him nearly as well as I did John, nor had I really understood the nature of his relationship with Jacob, but they’d been close, almost like a father and son. Knowing what Jacob had done to him only added to the overwhelming storm of emotion I felt within me.

I called again, but still no one came. It wasn’t until I yelled for a third time that a Roman soldier came bounding toward us at full speed with a number of his friends behind him. I didn’t know who they were, but I recognized their faces from the time I’d spent here with their legion, the XV Primigenia. The first man to arrive appeared much like the others, although he wore lighter armor and instead of weaponry, had a number of purses and pouches draped over his shoulders and wrapped around his waist.

I guessed he was a medic.

Help him! I called out, but then realized I had spoken in English. I searched my mind for the appropriate Latin word and tried to turn the phrase in my head, but I was too frazzled and had only just recently started picking up the language with any competency.

"Auxilium!"

It was the best I could manage, but the Roman medic already knew what to do as he dropped to his knees next to John and summarily pushed me away from him.

The man was very strong, and I found myself sliding on a patch of slick ice beneath me. I fell back and hit my head, but the soft snow softened the blow. I laid there in the cold, too confused, emotional, and distraught to move. I would have lain there for days had I the chance, but a pair of hands gripped me beneath my arms and I was lifted to my feet by the largest man I’d ever known. Once on my feet, I looked up into the face of my friend, Jeanne Bordeaux, his comforting eyes staring down at me in obvious concern.

Are you all right, Diana? He asked me, his face and voice obviously concerned.

He never called me by my nickname.

I’m fine, I answered, lifting a hand to my forehead, but John… Vincent…

I started to cry again as I spoke and Jeanne pulled me into a hug.

I let him.

Alex Cuyler and TJ Stryker suddenly arrived out of nowhere and ran to where poor Vincent rested, half covered in snow, and looked at each other in surprise. They hadn’t been here and hadn’t seen what had happened, and while I’d witnessed the events from a distance, I wasn’t sure I really understood what had happened either. Carefully, they reached down and picked up the body to move him.

The sight was too much to bear, and I looked away, choosing instead to bury my face in Jeanne’s chest again. He held the back of my head with a massive paw of a hand, and I wasn’t sure I’d ever pull away from him. Suddenly a new voice interrupted the chaos around me. It took me by complete surprise, as it was the last voice I would have expected to hear after everything that had recently happened.

Move! The voice yelled. Move! Let me take him!

I still didn’t understand how it was that I was hearing that voice. Neither did Jeanne, it seemed, as he too shifted his head around to look in its direction. A tall woman with short dark hair ran to where John lay. She bent over and picked him up effortlessly, as if he weighed no more than a soft pillow. He wasn’t particularly tall, just short of six feet, but was as solid as any man I’d ever known and he had to weigh over two hundred pounds. Yet the woman, who I still couldn’t even believe was here, had picked him up into her arms and was already running off.

I was just about to call out to her, but she was moving so fast that my words would have been lost to her almost immediately. I suspected I knew where she was going, so I tore away from Jeanne’s arms, pushing off the big man, knowing he wouldn’t even sway under the force of my arms. He was apparently even more stunned than I, as he didn’t move or try to stop me as I followed the woman.

It was a difficult chase, as we were right in the middle of a Roman legion camp that held thousands of soldiers returning from a big battle, many wounded, others healthy and exuberant from their apparent victory. Every single one of them seemed to get in my way as I ran, and I had to push my way through dozens if not hundreds of men who, although no taller than I was, were far, far stronger and encased in armor and with sharp weapons protruding from sheaths or held in their hands. It was a perilous journey, snaking my way through and around them, but my concern at John’s condition and seeing his savior healthy and vital kept my feet moving.

Finally, after a heart pounding sprint, I found myself in front of the same tent where the woman in question had spent the last five weeks of her life. I stopped, unsure of what I would find inside. I thought to turn around in that moment, but then thoughts of Jacob gave me cause to stop myself.

He would go inside.

He’d gone inside that creepy cottage a month ago, brave as anyone I’d ever known, driven by a desire to help his friends, not knowing what he’d find. And then he’d disappeared, vanished before our very eyes, and everyone, including myself, had thought the worst. Everyone except one woman, of course, who’d held firm in her knowledge that he’d return.

The same woman who had carried John inside.

I pushed the flap aside and stepped in.

Immediately upon entrance, I nearly tripped over a man sprawled on the ground. I looked down and noticed that it was James Wang, our medic, who seemed asleep. I looked up, too concerned with everyone else to be concerned by his wellbeing, and found the woman brushing a hand across John’s forehead

I rushed to their side, hearing the woman speak to John as I grew close.

How’d you let this happen to yourself, John… she whispered.

He coughed weakly before forcing another smile. I know… getting stabbed is your job.

The woman smiled at his remark but lost it when she noticed my arrival. I opened my mouth to speak to her, but she ignored me as she quickly ran across the tent toward the exit. She leaned over James and shook him by the shoulders. Her intent was obvious, but shaking an unconscious individual awake didn’t seem the best approach.

I searched the tent, noticing James’ medical kit sitting idly atop another table adjacent to John’s. I leapt at it, grabbing at it in a frenzied motion, but something else atop the table caught my eye: a small bundle of rags shaped like a small cylinder. It looked miniscule atop the table that was large enough for Jeanne to rest upon comfortably, but while it seemed like I should have known what those rags contained, I simply couldn’t think of it, so I turned away.

I took James’ bag in a hand and ran to where I’d left him, seeing the woman pulling her hand back, ready to smack him across the face.

Don’t! I yelled, knowing that would only make it worse.

She stopped short and looked at me angrily as I approached.

Do you have a better…

Here, I said, thrusting the bag at her so that she could hold it open for me. She took it reluctantly and I went to work digging through its contents, hoping to find what I was looking for. I removed a number of medical items, knowing James would be upset later because I’d ruined the orderly precision with which he’d packed his bag, but I didn’t care as I came up with my intended item.

Cracking the small package open, and doing my best to stay away from it, I held it under James’ nose and waited for him to recoil from the smelling salts. Almost immediately, he snapped out of his daze and jerked his head away.

He was disoriented but his eyes indicated he was cognizant.

What… what happened? He asked.

John’s been stabbed, I explained. He needs your help!

James’ eyes steadied and focused at the announcement, but we had to help him as he struggled to his feet. Once he was up, he took his bag from me and shuffled unsteadily toward John, where he immediately began to assess and treat the damage.

I couldn’t bring myself to watch, so I turned my attention to the woman standing at my left.

What happened? I asked her.

There was no reply.

How are you not still bedridden?

The words were out of my mouth before I even knew I said them. I was unable to think straight at the moment, which wasn’t something I was used to. I’d lived my entire life in a stressful world filled with fear and apprehension, performing a job function that required hyper-diligence and razor-edged focus. My associations with others had always been blunt, to the point, and pertinent to a particular inquiry. I didn’t ask questions without thinking about them first, but too much had happened today. My clarity of mind was gone.

How are you even walking? I tried.

The woman still didn’t turn to me or answer my question, and I began to feel that patented Hunter anger bubbling up inside me.

"Helena!" I yelled.

And finally, my exclamation had the desired the effect. Helena, the beautiful sniper who had found her way into my brother’s heart, and who had more amazingly allowed Jacob into her own, whirled on me, her bright green eyes blazing. I took a step back, unprepared for her normally lovely face turning such a vehemently angry expression on me.

What?! She demanded.

I almost crumbled completely under the harshness of her voice, but I was too curious to back down now. Instead, I took a step forward.

What happened to you, Helena? I asked, taking yet another step and reaching out to grip Helena’s arm with my hand.

Her green eyes softened and her expression shifted from rage to confusion in an instant.

What do you mean? She asked.

I lifted my other hand so that I could hold her by her shoulders. Helena, you were pregnant. You were sick. There were complications and James… James…

I trailed off, finally remembering the morbid truth behind what laid upon the table, wrapped in rags. But it didn’t seem to register with Helena. There she stood, seemingly strong and healthy, although I knew she should still be recovering after the emergency C-section that had saved her life, but not the life of the son she and Jacob had conceived.

Her eyes narrowed and her lips parted as she seemed to concentrate, her face angled toward the ground, but I could still see her eyes flitting left and right, searching the ground as though she would find her thoughts there. Suddenly, she lifted her head so that she could look at me and as our eyes met, her lower lip started to quiver, and I knew she finally remembered.

Together, we looked at the table that held her son, but before I had the chance to offer her any comfort, she dropped to her knees, bringing me down with her as her hands clung to my clothes. And that’s when she started to wail, tears of horrendous pain and grief pouring from her eyes. She wrapped her arms around me and threatened to drag me down to the floor, but I used all my strength to keep her on her knees. I wasn’t sure if she thought of me as anything more than a stake in the ground for her to wrap herself around, but I pulled her in close as well as I could as she wept over the loss of her son.

Shhh… Helena, I soothed as I rocked her. Everything’s going to be all right.

But I wasn’t sure everything was going to be all right at all.

Jacob was gone. Possessed by an ancient, evil power, he was being manipulated by a seductress with great ambition. I didn’t think Helena knew anything about that yet, and I wasn’t sure how she would react when she did. She’d already lost the boy who would become the most important man in her life, and I wasn’t sure how she would react when she learned that she had already lost the other.

I wasn’t sure anything would ever be all right again.

Part One

I

Aftermath

Central Britain

March, 44 A.D.

Diana Hunter

The minutes that followed were full of tears and the inaudible sound of hearts breaking. I tried to be strong for Helena, but I was certain most of the tears were my own, not hers, and I was ready to shed even more when Helena suddenly went limp in my arms. I struggled to hold her upright, but she was heavier than she looked and I did all I could to gently lower her to the ground.

She went down harder than I would have liked, but she remained asleep, maybe unconscious, even after her head hit the hard dirt beneath her. I let out a frustrated sigh as my tears dried up seconds later, too tired to grieve for the moment. Blowing a bit of hair off of my face, I reached down and pressed a hand against Helena’s own boyishly short hair, the result of her own frustration at Jacob’s actions not long ago.

I wiped away a few tears and turned to my left, seeing James continuing to work on John, who laid on the table completely motionless. I felt my heart leap into my throat at the sight of our medic performing what could very possibly be lifesaving surgery on my closest friend here in antiquity, but I forced it down and distracted myself by turning back to Helena and carefully shifting her head so that it sat more comfortably in my lap. Once she was settled, I looked around, hoping to find some kind of blanket to drape across her body, but had to settle for James’ jacket, which he had discarded earlier.

I tugged it over Helena’s body haphazardly, accidently lifting the shirt she wore and exposing her stomach just slightly. I reached down to cover her up again, but then I thought of something that had been waiting expectantly in the back of my mind for something to bring it to the forefront.

James had performed a C-section on Helena only hours earlier. I hadn’t been there, but I knew what such a procedure entailed. Back home the surgery was dangerous, and I had to assume it was even worse here in Ancient Rome, even when performed by a skilled healer like James. It also required a lengthy recovery time, but Helena had been on her feet and running only hours after the procedure. Not just running, but sprinting, and she’d picked up John as easily as it would be for her to pick me up.

It didn’t make sense and had plagued my mind since she’d carried John here, so I carefully lifted her shirt and peeked at the incision James had made below her stomach. The bandage was blood-soaked, but when I peeled it back, I found her wound was almost completely healed, nothing left but a long scar puckered by the stiches that had held her closed.

It didn’t make any sense.

I leaned in to examine the scar more closely when a gust of wind alerted me to the presence of someone else entering the tent. I quickly lowered her shirt and turned, seeing Jeanne standing in the threshold, surveying the room with sharp eyes. He saw me seconds later and then bounded straight to where I sat with two long strides. He glanced at me, then the body of Jacob and Helena’s little son on the table, understanding seeming to come to him almost instantly. Without a word, he gestured for me move so he could kneel down and pick Helena up. I pulled away and stood, and then moved to pick up my nephew’s body from the table. Bordeaux placed Helena there instead, and moved off to find a pillow and some blankets to ward off the chilly early morning air.

I considered placing my nephew beside her, thinking that she might want to at least see him when she woke up, but then wasn’t so sure. The table wasn’t very wide and Helena might move unintentionally while she recovered. Instead, I passed him off to Jeanne after he’d returned with the bedding for Helena.

Here, I said, handing the small child to him, which he took with well-practiced and gentle hands. Take him to where Vincent is. I think that’s best.

Jeanne nodded and reached out to hold my arm for a moment before leaving. I watched him go, then turned my attention to James and John, the realization of what was happening there finally setting in as well. After losing my nephew, watching Jacob succumb to addiction and madness, and witnessing the torrent of grief that had overcome Helena moments ago, I couldn’t bear to lose John, too.

He was… an interesting person.

From the moment I’d met him, I’d known there was something… special about him.

It was difficult to describe, just as he was difficult to describe. He was as much of a walking paradox as a time traveler living through a grandfather paradox. While he was perhaps the most arrogant, self-centered, macho, chauvinistic man I’d ever met, he could also be the most humble, unselfish, caring, and understanding one as well.

He’d reminded me so much of Jacob that I’d quickly become comfortable around him, and it didn’t hurt that he was more than just a little attractive. I’d always loved a man with scars, especially when he owned them. I still didn’t know whether he actually liked me at all, although I suspected that if he did it was just a part of his endless ploy to annoy Jacob. But there seemed to be something there, although he seemed about as outwardly interested in me as a thirteen year old boy.

Perhaps one day it would be more.

Suddenly, the sound of a man slumping to the ground shook me from my thoughts, and I turned to see James on ground beside John’s table. Every single thought in my mind evaporated as he fell, my concern for John’s condition taking priority over everything else. Even so, I rushed to check on James first, and while I certainly didn’t have a background in medicine, I was able to find his pulse and heard rhythmic breathing.

Relieved, but not placated, I stood up and turned my attention to John, but my all my concerns were gone when I found him lying shirtless on the table, a neat bandage covering a small wound in his lower, right abdomen. I checked for a pulse, and finding it steady and consistent, I let out a long sigh of relief. I used the back of my knuckles to lightly brush John’s cheek and smiled, but didn’t linger; fatigue was already setting in at a drastic rate. Moving to Helena’s table, I grabbed two extra blankets Jeanne had brought and covered John with one, James with the other. Since he was too heavy for me to lift on my own, I left him as he was on the ground.

Everyone seemed comfortable except me, but with no additional blankets available and John’s table too small for me to lay on with him, I huddled in a corner of the tent, pulled my parka around myself tightly, and waited. I closed my eyes and rested my head on my shoulder, but instead of feeling a strong desire to fall asleep, all I wanted to do was cry again.

None of this was supposed to have happened.

I shouldn’t even be here and Jacob and Helena and all the others shouldn’t have had to suffer as they had in recent months. All this could have been avoided had we simply left well enough alone. Everything could have been different if I hadn’t agreed to participate in a rescue mission to defy all rescue missions.

It didn’t seem like all that long ago when Jacob and his team had disappeared completely – that is, the Jacob and his team that had existed back home, in my version of the year 2021 – and a team had been sent to find them.

All they’d found was a cargo container, a notebook, the orb, and… his body.

Jacob’s body.

All evidentiary procedures had confirmed it, even my own when I’d confirmed the broken leg Jacob had suffered when he’d fallen out of a tree when we were kids. But it hadn’t been Jacob, not my Jacob, not the Jacob I’d known and the one I’d grown up with. Everything in the journal from the prose style, the handwriting, and the ridiculously-Jacob sense of humor had indicated it had been him, but the carbon dating had put the body at just around two thousand years old and the context of his story hadn’t made any sense.

It had been Jacob. A two thousand-year-old Jacob. A Jacob who had died, withered for two thousand years, and left behind a story that had confounded everyone.

But it hadn’t been my Jacob.

He’d written of a world so unlike the one he should have known, the one I’d known, and he’d described a device capable of sending individuals through time. No one had believed it at first, but the evidence was irrefutable: a parallel version of Jacob Hunter had existed. Those in the military who had far too much power than they had any right to have agreed that this Jacob came from a world that was similar to our own but distinguishably different, but, more importantly, was also in possession of the means to travel through time, a technology they had every intention of obtaining, reengineering, or stealing.

Everything since had been insanity. No one had said anything about ancient wizards or magical orbs capable of destroying an individual’s mind or empresses of long forgotten empires who had far too much ambition and the bloodthirsty nature needed to take everything she wanted. All I’d wanted was my brother back, but nothing was ever that simple.

I may have found him, but then he’d been taken from me again.

Only this time I couldn’t just go after him.

That wayward desire to sleep was finally beginning to settle in as such dour thoughts circulated through my mind, but just before it took hold of me completely, I felt myself being shaken roughly. My eyes flew open and I saw myself looking into the face of Paul Archer, a man I immediately wished was in a coma like the rest of them.

Paul… I muttered, pulling my jacket tighter and trying to ignore him, … now isn’t the time. I’m exhaust…

He didn’t interrupt me, which was odd enough to convince me that I should talk to him. I opened my eyes again and gave him a more serious look, and jerked myself backward at what I saw. Archer’s face had been pummeled. Someone had seriously damaged the man, leaving his face black and blue and puffy in all the wrong places. His once handsome face that I had loved so much – but no more – had been turned to mush.

What happened to you? I asked, oddly concerned.

Again he didn’t answer, his head swaying side to side like he was punch-drunk.

Who did this to you? I pressed

My fault… he mumbled. All my fault.

Paul! I snapped, and he jerked himself into focus. Who did this to you? What are you talking about?

Jacob… he said quietly. Jacob did this.

Why? I asked.

I tried to stop him, he said, his voice sad. Felt responsible for…

For what? I asked.

His head tilted upward, his eyes harrowed. I gave him the orb, Artie.

My eyes narrowed. You what?

Aboard the ship heading to Alexandria, he continued. I gave it to him. I had… orders. They wanted to see what it could really do. Wanted to see the extent of its damaging effects. And they didn’t want him interfering. Jacob was… expendable.

"You… what?" I asked, beyond angry.

I was under orders! Archer retorted. They told me to do it. They knew you could use the orb and didn’t want Jacob getting in the way. I had to do it!

You… you didn’t have to do anything, Paul! I yelled, amazed that I could say anything at all. "You knew what could happen! You knew this would happen. You drove Jacob insane!"

I know! He shot back angrily, causing me to jerk back again. I know. That’s… that’s why I brought this. We can go back. Change it.

He lifted his hand, showing what he held within: a blue orb.

I flung myself back even further, knowing that what it had done to Jacob could just as easily happen to me. I scuttled backward until I came into contact with the wall of the canvas tent. I held up a hand as though that would help ward off the orb’s power.

What are you doing? I said, too scared to be angry. Where did you get that? Helena destroyed it.

He shook his head. No, we didn’t. She brought both of them to me because she thought I’d be the last person to let Jacob have them. We faked it. It was her idea not to destroy either orb, not mine.

Why would she do that?

Because she’s military, Diana, he said, a surge of confidence entering his voice. Redundancy is crucial. Two is one, one is none. A million things could have happened that would make us regret the loss of the orb if we’d already destroyed the other.

I shook my head, unable to answer.

Use it, Diana, he urged. Fix this. Don’t let me give the other one to Jacob.

It doesn’t work like that, I said. You know that!

Do it! He said angrily, shoving the orb closer to me.

I can’t!

You have t…

He started to lunge for me but was unexpectedly arrested mid-motion, almost as if he’d been somehow frozen in time. In fact, that was my first assumption because of the orb’s presence, but then he started to squirm, and I realized what had happened. Jeanne had returned, probably having heard our argument, and had literally caught Archer in midair.

Jeanne pulled his arms back and flung Archer to the ground, causing him to slide and hit the table John was lying on. The big man followed, reached down and picked him up, a fist ready to be thrown at him.

Wait! I called out.

He looked at me calmly, his breathing steady.

Don’t, I said. Let him go.

Archer appeared about ready to slump unconscious when Jeanne let him go, but the sudden drop to the ground gave him the energy he needed to rush from the tent and disappear.

What was that about? Jeanne asked.

He… I hesitated. It… it’s best you didn’t know. For now.

If that is your wish. He said with a nod. Are you all right? Do you need anything else?

I shook my head. No, thank you. You should get some rest.

He threw a hand in my direction. So should you.

I think I’ll stay, I said, holding my head in my hand tiredly. I’ll be all right.

"Bien, he said. I’ll go."

I watched him go and returned to my spot on the ground, rattled, shaken, and disturbed. I’ll never understand the military and their ridiculous chain of command and justification for actions because they were under orders. Archer was a man, an individual, and should have been able to do what he thought was best, not remain tethered to a command structure two thousand years in the future, and one he may never return to.

And now Archer had admitted to being complicit in Jacob’s descent into madness. I’d always wondered where Jacob had gotten the orb, and I felt ashamed that I’d always assumed that he’d gone looking for it, driven by his own creeping insanity. My world was falling apart around me and there was nothing I could do. John was wounded, James was unconscious, Vincent was dead, Archer was untrustworthy, Helena was… whatever she was, and even though Jeanne, TJ, Alex, and Georgia were alive and healthy, they were probably just as lost as I was.

I’d never been so terrified and equally depressed, even after living my entire life filled with fear. I didn’t want to think about it right now, couldn’t think about it for my own sake, and found myself drifting off to sleep almost immediately, exhaustion acting as my best friend at the moment.

***

I hadn’t any idea how long I’d been asleep. It could have been twenty seconds or twenty minutes, or maybe even a few hours. The ground was cold and my butt was wet thanks to the damp soil beneath me, but I didn’t care. There was too much to think and worry about without wondering if my butt would freeze.

I started thinking about the days after discovering Jacob’s body back home again, and all the planning that had gone into the operation to bring him home, when I was distracted by a commotion coming from outside. I lifted my head, a painful endeavor after the awkward position I’d been asleep in, and glanced around. John was still asleep atop his table, as was James upon the ground, but Helena was gone.

Curious, I cocked my head to the side, wondering where she could be, when the turmoil outside grew far worse just before it came crashing into my tent. Two individuals came stumbling into the hospital tent, one dragging the other against his will. A number of Romans entered behind them, and while none seemed eager to appease the distraught pair of individuals, none seemed very happy either. Of the six that followed, four had their hands held on the grips of their swords, while two wielded spears.

I turned my head to the initial pair again, and took notice that one was also a Roman, although his armor was different, fancier. I’d never seen him before, although he looked to be someone of importance even though he wasn’t a particularly pleasant looking man. While his arms appeared quite strong and muscular, it was impossible not to notice an ugly face with fat jowls hanging from his jaw that seemed completely out of place on such a fit form.

Dragging him, however, was an even bigger surprise.

It was Helena.

No one who entered the tent even noticed me as I sat curled up in the corner – that is, until someone tripped over James, jerking him awake. The Roman glared down at the small medic, and I found myself moving forward, wrapping James up in my arms, and doing my best to drag him out of the way as the important looking Roman started to speak.

Unhand me, woman! I thought I heard him say.

I held onto James, and looked at his dazed eyes. Are you okay, James?

Aye, he said. Smidge woozy. What day is it?

I haven’t any idea, I said. Now shut up and listen. Translate for me."

He looked at me, his face contorted in annoyance, but he did as he was told and translated.

By the gods, you are strong! The man repeated thanks to James. Unhand me!

I knew he was speaking to Helena, but my rational mind was still unable to process how she was even moving, let alone manhandling a Roman soldier in impressive physical shape. He struggled again, but instead of letting him fight against her, Helena released him as she remained silent. The Roman took a step back but didn’t attempt to exit the tent. His soldiers moved to surround him but he held up a hand, and they stayed back. He stared at Helena, who returned his gaze even more angrily, and it was then that the man’s posture slackened and he shook his head. He lifted it and turned to see John sitting atop the table, and then shifted his eyes and saw James and me huddled in the corner.

He did this? The Roman asked, looking back at Helena.

I told you he did, Helena growled.

And Vincent? The Roman inquired.

Helena simply nodded.

He looked saddened for a moment but continued. And your blond friend? The one that is concussed?

He’s not my friend, Helena pointed out, but, yes. I already explained this. Jacob is possessed and we have to go after him. We have to help him.

The Roman folded his arms. From how I understand it, he chose this path for himself. He willingly requested your orb. This is the report I have received from Centurion Minicius. Do you dispute that?

You don’t understand, Galba, Helena said, throwing her arms out wide in frustration. He’s addicted to the orb! You can’t blame him!

Do not play coy with me, woman! Galba shouted. "Do not think I will be swayed by your misguided love for a man who has singlehandedly done everything possible to destroy my empire. How can you be so quick to forgive when he chose to escape detention with the likes of Agrippina? Agrippina! Whom I know you despise. Your hatred for her is legendary among legion gossip."

It was out of his control, Helena explained slowly, as though she was still trying to rationalize it to herself. He didn’t choose to become addicted to it, it was forced on him, and now he’s no more in control of his mind than you are of your so-called empire.

Galba recoiled at the insult, but he wasn’t finished. And what of your son? He countered. "Is it not because of him that he too has been lost to you?"

My… Helena started to say, confusion overtaking her, … my… son?

The poor girl was still in denial, and I wasn’t about to let her wallow in those thoughts much longer. That wasn’t Jacob’s fault either, I finally said, finding the confidence buried deep within me as well as the translation. But that was all I could think to say, and ordered James to translate for me. He nodded. He took a risk, and we all paid dearly for it, but it wasn’t his fault. He had nothing to do with the loss of their son.

Helena stood there in a daze, the nature of the conversation turning far and away from her.

Galba, however, wasn’t as easily deterred as he whirled around to face me. And who are you? Your Latin is even worse than the others’.

I’m Jacob’s sister, I said proudly on my own. My name is Diana.

Galba recoiled at this announcement, as did a number of his soldiers.

Do not tell me that you too are a god, he said, his voice just barely above a whisper.

"I’m not a god, I said, condescension in my voice at such a stupid statement. And neither is Jacob. I’m just named for one."