LUPIS GLORIA ROMANI
By Dan 1966 and Ademi
(cub/cub, adult/cub, rape, gay sex, vore, gore, torture, slavery)

Rated Quad X (And you think Caligula was bad?)

Based off of Harmarist and Kittaness Sheath and Knife Comics and Disney’s Zootopia (c) 2016

Chapter 2

Year 373 of the Roman Calendar
Mid-June
The Zootopian Middle Age
Southern bank of the Roana River

      “grrrrrrr”……..”ruff”……”ruff”……...”grrrrrr”…….”Plunk!”

      The big tri-colored gray wolf sat alone on a rock at the water’s edge. He was deeply contemplating the expanse of the river that lapped gently against his toes with an occasional “growl” or “light woof” escaping his lips.

      He left Rome seven months back to the shock of the Senate, his words coming back to give him a happy chuckle as he thought of what the Senate President said on the steps as Cesar mounted his horse…

      “You can’t leave us! We’re in the midst of a slave revolt! Where could you possibly go at this terrible time?” The Senator asked.

       “Why? To the meat market. You have capable generals to handle a few miserable “antler growers” don’t you? Obviously you’re not paying you slut Pompei enough are you?”

       Oh that was rich! The sight of so many nobles watching in stunned confusion as the fourth to the twelfth heavy legions marched away towards the North. Fifty thousand legionaries, servants, slaves and a supply train that followed them for miles moved North towards the Roana River and now….they were stalled in camps waiting for Cesar to come up with an idea.

       “Plunk” Another stone flew into the river as the great wolf general pondered his options. Beyond the expanse of the fast flowing and unpredictable currents of the Roana lay the Tusker Confederation where swarms of mammals had been fleeing the paws of Rome for refuge. So many prey mammals had evacuated the Roman proper in the last ten years as to begin to threaten every day subsistence itself. Even with all the slave farms producing as much meat as their whores could pump out every week, it wasn’t enough to feed every predator in the ever growing empire.

      Long had the Tuskers been the devil of Rome since the day “Rufus the beloved” faced them at the Mersali Bridge. The memory reminded Cesar that the annual offering day was coming up. Rufus Lynx was still dear in the heart of every wolf even though he was a cat. Here was Roman virtue at its’ purest form and Cesar made sure it would be passed forwards to inspire his legionaries to great feats of courage.

      Yet how do you get great feats of courage when you’re stuck in camps with no where to go? The very sight of the Roana made Cesar broil...so much so that now he sat panting and dripping saliva from his tongue. He slipped off the rock, paced nervously back and forth whipping his tail around then “barked” at the river...as if that would somehow change anything. He went back to the rock and pondered again.

     Five previous counsels of Rome had tried to force cross the expanse and five times they met disaster. If you couldn’t get a legion across intact, you were screwed and the only time you could cross safely? was in daylight and that flashed a beacon to the entire confederation. Counsels landed with piece meal parts of legions and the Confederates tore them apart. Every pray mammal from bunnies to bison were trained by the Tuskers to be deadly with archery and they turned the far river bank into a slaughter house.

      The last counsel of Rome came back shaved, de-clawed, de-toothed, de-tailed ,raped like a brothel whore and carried like a trophy on a game hanging shoulder staff. Good thing he was killed and burned before the news reached the city. That fool lost Rome three good legions.

      Cesar rubbed his head...his ever balding head. The one embarrassment he’d been fighting to keep hidden since he was a mid-ling wolf, his ever growing bald spot where there should be gloriously flying fur. He always chalked it up to two things that plagued him all his life...attack of the nerves and Epilepsy.

      The seizures were sometimes light, just momentary losses of though and temporary paralysis of the face but sometimes they were horrible spasms of muscles and uncontrolled agony. It was then that he smiled for his little blessing in life, His servant Questriatus.

       The small otter was turned over to Cesar as a slave in Rome because his parents couldn’t pay the rent on their small home in the city and the rent collector just happened to be one of the General’s many minor patrons in his service. “Let me take the cub and you can call him your payment.” Cesar told the rent collector, promising him payments to keep the family in their home. In reality? Cesar hated the renting system in the city with a blood passion and the courts even worse. The Roman court system was like a water damn with a hundred finger holes in it. Corruption was leaking through the bull works faster than you could work to plug up the holes from which the dirty money flowed. Yet the small otter uttered not a single complaint about his station in life. And at this time, the great General viewed the obedient water dweller as more a friend and someone he could confide in with confidence that their talks would remain their own personal knowledge..

         Another thing Questriatus did without complaint was aiding Cesar when the big seizures hit. The proud wolf hid a secret from all but the loving young otter… he was forced to wear cloth diapers like a babe because he would often loose himself when the big attacks hit. Questriatus could sense them coming on long before they struck with their brutal intensity and he would quickly summon two “Pretoria” (Legionares who personally guard Cesar) to quickly spirit the General to a quiet place and remove his clothing and armor before the full onset of the attacks caused his body to spasm out of control. Quickly….the otter would force a dowel between Cesar’s upper and lower jaws to keep him from biting his tongue off and would talk slowly and soothingly as the big wolf suffered and lost control of his bowels.

      Cesar would always cry after these episodes from shame and as he recovered his lucidness, there was his beloved little servant with tears for him, gently kissing and licking him on the face while soothing him with gentle words. Then the little otter would suffer to change Cesar’s diaper and help him compose himself. Now Cesar closed his eyes as he sat by the river and wished he had a thousand little Questriatus’ to fill his house hold.

      And just by chance, the little otter came walking up to Cesar’s side and for the moment, both of them stared long at the moving river until Questriatus reached up to grab hold of Cesar’s battle Sagum, the skirt of thick leather straps or “flags” which draped down over and around his waist and upper thighs…

      Questriatus pointed to the river and asked….”Father? Why do you not simply bridge the river?”

      As a wolf, as a commander, Cesar was unique from previous Roman generals. Self-reliance and arrogance were often the hallmarks of Roman counsels; had the otter been with any other Counsel? More likely he would have been slapped harshly or kicked away for even opening his mouth. Cesar found such conduct stupid and foolish, to him….from a slave to a pediatrician, every Mammal was his superior that he might learn from them. Cesar was not totally ruthless, he had spared industrious prey mammals like bunnies because they showed adeptness at mathematics and estimating, he had a whole tent set up in one of the camps for bunnies to toil away at the figures of running an army in the field and he lavished them for their efficiency. Often he stepped in to prevent legionaries from being killed for disobedience, not because they might become good soldiers but because they possessed some trait that helped Cesar get an edge. In combat, everything that could give a commander an edge….had to be exploited.

      So now with little Questriatus, Cesar reached out and gently petted him...”If you could prove to me that I could bridge this river? I will give you your freedom. How’s that?”

       The otter perked up, nodded his head rapidly with glee on his face and ran off on all fours down the forest trail until he came to a large clearing. In the space of a day’s labor, 50,000 predators, servants and slaves had transformed a four football field sized plot of forested land into four separate wooden fortifications housing two legions a piece. Reaching the gate of one of the square compounds,  Questriatus got on his hind legs and walked up to the two legionaries standing watch with their javelins (Their Pilums) and their big rectangular war shields…

       “The Counsel is still down on the river bank?” One of the wolves asked.

        “Yes.” Questriatus replied. “I need to see the horse caretaker Cossus Herenus.”

        The wolves let Questriatus into the fortified camp where predators were busy doing all manors of work, or training or amusement. The camp was a mixture of different smells and sounds, including a group of Legionaries, a mix of predators, who were having a little enjoyment tormenting a naked pig among themselves. Tossing him back and forth, tripping him into the muddy ground, punching him...”

           Questriatus Walked up to the group as one of them, a big tiger, was pushing his foot down on the head of the poor squeeling pig. “What’s this?” The otter asked with a tone that for the moment sounded sympathetic.

          “Tonight’s fair.” The Tiger said with a snarl. “He’s a plump one isn’t he?”

          The pig looked at Questriatus as if hoping for some clemency but he wouldn’t find it...”Yes….he does look nice. You should stuff him a little more before you throw him on a grease pole so he’ll be extra tender when he’s done.”

         The Tiger pulled the pig off the ground...”What a splendid idea Questriatus?” The Tiger snarled. “Would you like to select a piece for your plate?”

         The otter shook his head in reply. “Now you know I am merely beholden to fish and other sea life. But please? Do enjoy him. Oh? And please show him some mercy if you would?” Questriatus said waving a paw and just as quick...A wolf stretched out his arm with a dagger in his paw and sliced the pig’s throat open!”

       The prey mammal spasm’d, coughed and chocked on the froth of his blood as it gushed from his opened neck and arteries. He stood for a moment with a look of horror on his face, unable to scream, before falling forwards and splashing onto the wet ground.

       Questriatus leaned over the still quivering body...”Now you can’t say we Romans are not generous...can you my friend?” The otter said. He then turned away towards the stable pen where the horses were being kept…

       Cossus Herenus (A black and brown Alaskan Wolf) was working on a saddle when Questriatus entered the pen...”Cossus? I need some things from you.”

       “And they are?” Cossus replied.

       I need a rope of five Pertica (39 feet in length) and something heavy enough to sink but not too heavy that I can’t swim with it.” Questriatus replied.

       Cossus walked around his pen and gathered several loops of long ropes and a forged iron ring. “Here...see if you can carry this ring?”

       Questriatus nodded with approval and soon took the weight and the ropes in a leather bag he could pull around by himself….except he wasn’t going to pull it by himself…

       “Stay here.” Cossus said as he gestured with a paw and walked out of the pen. He soon came back with a bunny behind him wearing an iron collar around his neck...”This slave will carry your bag for you.”

        Questriatus smiled at Cossus...”Thank you for being so kind. I need all my strength for what I’m going to do for Cesar.”

         “And what exactly are you going to do that mighty Cesar would need you?” Cossus asked.

         “I’m going to show him how to bridge a river.” Questriatus replied. He then gestured to the bunny...”Pick up the bag and follow me?” and began walking back to the river.

         “You need to keep up slow poke.”  Questriatus said to the young rabbit who struggled to keep the bag over his body. “How long have you been a slave?”

          The Bunny didn’t answer as the two mammals walked through the woods… “I asked you a question? How long have you been a slave? Rabbit? I won’t ask a third time.”

          “Since…..since I was a kitten Sir.” The Bunny replied. 

          “Obviously you are a piss poor slave if you can’t manage a burden that’s light for me to carry.”  Questriatus said as he looked back.

           “We bunnies are not crafted for such ungainly burdens Sir.” The Bunny replied as he struggled with the bag as it flopped around on his paws. Suddenly... Questriatus ran up with his muscular body and just crashed into the poor rabbit! Throwing him off his feet as the bag fell to the ground!

           “A pathetic excuse!” Questriatus snapped as he snatched the bag. “This is a trifle for a Roman! You should be grateful you’re even allowed to live you cotton tail’d rat! You know what would happen if I came up to Cesar with this bag over my head and you walking behind me? Maybe Cesar feels merciful and just snaps your neck? Maybe he drowns you? Maybe he orders you crucified? Maybe he orders you impaled for cooking?”

           The poor Bunny groveled at Questriatus’ feet...”No! Please! I don’t want to die! Please! I’ll carry the bag! I’ll do my best! Please don’t report me to Great Cesar!”

            Questriatus kicked the Bunny in the face...”What a pathetic display! At least have some dignity for yourself? Ewwww….you smell like piss and snit too. Stay away from me you filth! Now pick up that bag and carry it correctly or you will die and I swear by Jupitor my friend...you will die slow enough to bring pleasure to the Roman gods with your cries!”

            The Bunny lifted the bag over his head. “Yes Sir! Yes I will carry this bag because it means my life. Forgive my wretched behavior.” He said nervously.

            “I’ll consider it.”  Questriatus snorted. “So tell me Bunny? Are you from a production farm? Was your mother one of those filthy spread legged and chained whores who got flucked three times a week? I bet her pussy was a gaping hole from all the big Wool hares’ who took turns on her huh? And they let you live? How many siblings were you born with? Sheesh they always save the ugly ones.”

            Questriatus heard sniveling and turned around...”Are you crying slave? Did I hit a nerve? Did you even know your mother?” The otter strutted up and smacked the Bunny in the face! “You better wipe that sad face off your puss rabbit. I don’t care about you, no one cares about you or your flucken used up mother! You keep crying slave and you will die!….horribly! Do you understand?”

          The Bunny nodded as he shivered. 

          “You better not pee from being scared rabbit? I so much as catch a dribble out of you and I’ll cut your penis off and shove it down your throat.” Questriatus snatched a paw full of Bunny fur and threw the slave ahead of him...”MOVE YOU STUPID RABBIT!”

         It wasn’t long before Questriatus exited the woods and found Cesar still brooding on his rock seat….

         “I’m back father.” Questriatus said as he dis-robed out of his Roman Tunic and gestured for the bag. When the Bunny gave the otter the long rope, he quickly fell to his knees, laid his arms out before himself and pressed his face to the dirt. Cesar noted the trembling…

        “Did you scare him?” Cesar asked Questriatus.

         “Yes.” The otter replied. “But he was no trouble. He worked very hard to follow my commands and was very obedient. I think he’s very much worth keeping around. He tries very hard to please and is very polite even for his station in life.”

          The Bunny was suddenly surprised by Questriatus’ glowing report and further surprised when Cesar commanded him to sit up…

          For his part...Questriatus turned to the river, took a deep breath and waded in up to his neck. “Father?” He said to Cesar. “I think two hours should be enough to examine the river? You should probably prepare a counsel of war when I return.”

         Cesar waved a paw and watched Questriatus vanish. He then regarded the Bunny slave…

          “Slave? Sit up.” Cesar commanded which the Bunny quickly did so. “Come over here and file my paw nails on my feet.” He said as he produced a file and showed it to the bunny. Then Cesar curled his lips in disgust...”Ewww...bunny? Bath yourself. Your stink offends my nostrils.”

         “I can not bath myself illustrious Sire.” The bunny replied cowarding...”If I do? My master will beat me severely.”

        Cesar snarled. “What does your master do? Use you as a damn latrine? Bath now! Forget your master, he no longer owns you. You are my servant Questriatus’ slave now. Now bath you filthy bunny!”

        The bunny grasped one of Cesar’s feet to kiss it but Cesar pushed him away. “No! Bath first you filthy thing! What is your name?”

        “Stefinus, glorious Sire.” Stefinus replied as he slowly removed his tunic and backed himself into the river, hiding himself shamefully until he was sitting in the water…

        “Rest easy.” Cesar said. “Questriatus won’t be one to have you roasted on a whim. You’d make quite a pathetic side dish any way.”

         “Sire?” Stefinus said as he held his ears. “Thank you for being merciful.”

        Cesar waved a paw in return without saying a word or regarding Stefinus further as he finished bathing and sat naked in the grass to dry.

2 Hours later…

        One of the Legates (Lei-gat-tays) who commanded one of the eight legions came walking up to the General as he continued to gaze at the river. Snarlitus Quentus was a brown Siberian wolf with a red hair tuft whom Cesar nicknamed “Clip-ee-oh” because during one battle some time back, poor Quentus had been tackled and half his tail severed by a pair of bulls…

        “Are you intending to be here long into the night?” Clip-ee-oh asked as he stooped down, using a pilum for support.

        “I am waiting for Questriatus to return. “Cesar said. He noted Clip-ee-oh’s regard for the naked rabbit sleeping in the grass with his tongue rolling over his chops…

      “Don’t even think about it Clip-ee-oh?” Cesar warned. “He belongs to  Questriatus.”

        Clip-ee-oh pointed to the river. “Let me guess? You allowed him to go swimming in the river? He’s gone. Probably laughing at you from the other side.”

        “He wouldn’t do that.” Cesar replied. “He is a predator and he knows I love him very much. He won’t leave me.”

        “Care to wager?” Clip-ee-oh snickered.

         “I wouldn’t.” Cesar said with a smirk as he pointed. Sure enough…  Questriatus returned. Cesar immediately kicked at the sleeping bunny...” Attend to your master slave!”

            Stefinus quickly and obediently wrapped Questriatus in his tunic then stood with his paws hiding his nakedness and his head lowered. “I am very happy to see you Master.”

           Questriatus looked up at Cesar. “Master?”

            “Well he is yours?” Cesar said nodding. “You are a free Roman are you not? Judging by your face, you have good news to tell me?”

          “Yes Master!” Questriatus replied with a bow. “The river is only three Pertica (24 feet) deep! The bottom is soft sand with some rocks. It should be very easy to bridge.”

            Cesar stood with a look of joy on his face. “Excellent! Wonderful work  Questriatus! And no more “Master” my little beloved. From now on I am Julius to you.”

           Questriatus began to sob...”I am not worthy of that honor great wolf...”

           Cesar bent down and lovingly kiss licked the otter’s head. “You are worth a hundred of yourselves to me Questriatus. Go back to the camp and have the quartermasters provide you with a furnished tent of your desire.”

            As Questriatus left with Stefinus behind him...Cesar turned to Clip-ee-oh and snarled...”I will meet with my chief engineer first. After that meeting? We shall call a counsel of war. Inform the other Legates and ensure the word is dispersed down to the Centurions and Tribunes.”

           Clip-ee-oh snapped to attention and struck his armored chest plate with his paw. “Yes my Lord. It shall be done as you command.”

           Stefinus followed quietly behind Questriatus through the forest and back towards the encampments when the otter turned his head back...”What is your name?” He asked.

         “Stefinus, Master.” The bunny replied.

          “I hope I did not abuse you too harshly a while ago.” Questriatus asked. “I just wanted to see how you would react to being so harshly insulted. Did I harm you at all?”

          “It is not my place to speak of how my master treats me.” Stefinus replied. “I am a worthless vermin to be killed at your whim.”

           “Enough of that.” Questriatus said waving his paw. To be sure? You will never have to suffer being covered in wolf piss any more. They just love marking and counter-marking everything….a disgusting habit that even Great Cesar partakes in.”

         “Has he ever pissed on you Master?” Stefinus asked.

         “I am a Roman, he doesn’t dare even at his high station.” Questriatus said as he and Stefinus crossed the bridge over the defensive trench dug around the encampment and passed through the gate. “I have to deliver this letter to the Legionary quartermaster for our tent to be put up.”

         “Your tent Master.” Stefinus said.

         “What?” Questriatus replied. “Our tent Stefinus. Did you think I would leave you tied to a slave stake out in the weather?” Questriatus said as he turned around. “Just so I am clear on this? I am a water predator, I have no desire for land prey and I certainly want to keep a slave around for a long time. You’re my first one and I have no intention of suffering through three or four new ones...unless you want to end up like that?”

         Questriatus pointed to the terrible sight of two bunnies writhing in agony on a rotating split over a fire with a single spit forced through their tail holes and out their mouths. Another clean shaven bunny was begging for his life before a wolf snatched him up by his head and simply broke his neck by snapping him like a whip through the air.

         Stefinus shuddered as he brought his paws up to his mouth and shook his head “no” to  Questriatus.

          The otter crossed his arms...”How are you at mathematics?”

          “I was taught all the required numerations and functions Master.” Stefinus replied. “Obviously? It is a skill I haven’t had much use in.”

          “Then we will do a quick refreshing lesson just to make sure you haven’t lost it. You and I have much too do before the night is over.”  Questriatus said as he patted Stefinus on his shoulder. “What luck that Great Cesar took me from a father who is an architect.”

Year 373 of the Roman Calendar
Mid-June
The Zootopian Middle Age
early evening
Encampment of the ninth and tenth legions

     The duty of a Tribunus Laticlavius (a Broad Band Military Tribune) was as to an executive officer in a modern day military unit. He was an administrator assigned to a legion by Senatorial designation as a sub-commander to the legion commander, the Legate. He saw to the welfare of the legionaries, over looked morale and supply and had the displeasure of dispensing discipline...such was the case with Williamus who was walking away from a legionnaire who had been whipped in the rump till he passed out from the pain for stealing food from the prey stables…

     He wasn’t going to eat the fawn...he was going to rape it. Still...stealing is stealing.

      Williamus Graylus had been in the legions as an officer since he was 14 by the good graces of his father, Haroldius Augustinian Graylus. The elder Graylus was a financier and banker in Rome and a patron of Cesar who knew how to pick a good winner that would bring him more money and more prestige. Military life wasn’t exactly what Williamus had in mind for himself on his day of adult hood when he turned 15 but here he was a Tribune none the less. He wanted to believe his merits were what got him promoted so fast, he earnestly wanted to believe that his short years of honest hard work and driving ambition set him apart from his father’s obvious back door dealings but he wasn’t fooled at all by his rapid rise.

      He’d been in some nasty battles from when he was 14 to now that he was 19. Real close affairs in which he got the nice scar on his right calf from being gored by a pissed off bovine who got lucky to smash through the hasti (Hah-Stay=Rookie) line in his cohort and gore threw him in the air like a child’s doll. Yet what goes up must come down and Williamus came down with his Gladius (Gladius – Roman short sword) stabbing through the bull’s brains. He had the horns in his tent as “glory trophies”. 

      Williamus’s real weapon of affection though was the Pilum Nadius (Stabbing / throwing Javilin with a longer and sharper edged tip. Just call it a Roman Naga Nata) Williamus could whip that spear around his body like a graceful dancer. It was how he kept so limber. What a great exercise tool he thought. Whenever he could? He would go into the woods naked and swing that murderous shaft like mad to break a sweat and develop his own fighting techniques which he would later teach to younger Hastis’. He counted a group of ten who were excellent students and together they formed a fighting team within the legions’ fourth cohort. At a battle where they went up against a hill tribe of elks, the fourth’s “meat cutters” went through victims like wheat cutters. Their actions got them a triumph march back home and dripping virgins by the cart load, a wonderful treat!

      Williamus ventured through the camp and back to his tent where he stopped to listen quietly with a slight smile to a young voice reciting something….

“A….B…..C…...D…...E…..F…...H….One hundred twenty seven.”

“A….B…..C…...D…...E…..F…...H….One hundred twenty eight ”

“A….B…..C…...D…...E…..F…...H….One hundred twenty nine ”

“A….B…..C…...D…...E…..F…...H….One hundred thirty ”

“Clop!…..clop, clop, clop!”

“This is stupid!” A youngster’s voice squealed angrily! “You will do this two hundred times Alexander.”….well why don’t you lick my tail hole clean two hundred times Will! Grrrrrr…..”(sound of things being kicked around)

The elder brother shook his head and sighed. “Now to bravely march into the line of fire, Mars protect my tail?” The older gray wolf said to himself as he grabbed the tent flap and popped inside fast enough to get his little brother to jump!

    “YOU LITTLE DISOBEDIENT SNIT!” Willamus snarled as he ran up, snatched an arm, roughly pulled the wolf cub’s tunic down to his ankles and dragged him over his lap…

      “YOU WANT TO THROW YOUR TABLET?! YOU WANT ME TO LICK YOUR TAIL HOLE?!” Williamus snapped as he snatched his little brother’s tail and pulled it out of the way of his unprotected rump…

      The reaction was the one Williamus desired...No pleading for mercy, no complaints, no attempt to lie, no struggling. The young wolf latched onto his brother’s leg with his paws and spread his legs wide open for the expected “tail tanning” to drop.

     But Williamus gave a snort, lightly patted the cub’s rump then let him stand up to pull his tunic back up. He then retrieved the wax tablet from the ground and handed it back to Alexander…

     “You will start again at “one” and go for “two hundred” as I commanded you.

      Alexander Pliny Graylus was a ten year old wolf cub and like all ten year old male wolf cubs of Rome, Alexander was long on Roman Pride and short in attention. While Williamus adored him, he was also wishing his mother hadn’t spoiled the youngster so much. Was it out of worry for Alexander or out of personal jealously? William didn’t get spoiled as a little cub, he got his behind beaten…..a lot! When did a day not go by when his father didn’t beat him, or his uncle Chancelious didn’t beat him, or his tutor didn’t beat him? He began to wonder at Alexanders age if he wasn’t better tenderized than any of the bunnies he ate?

      Why was a ten year old wolf cub in his brother’s military tent on a dangerous campaign? Because his father thought he was safer away from Rome...not because of the slave revolts mind you? But because…...of Rome! The “eternal city” was “eternally confusing” as Williamus’s father loved to point out. Only in Rome were you warned to...”Make your will, say your prayers to Apollo or Luna….oh hell, tell all the gawds! And hope you have enough yarn, crumbs or colored rocks to find your way back home before sundown. Many an adventurous cub like Alexander had a bad habit of straying a block from their front door and becoming lost in the “rat’s nest” of the Roman street system. Far too often? Those cubs didn’t come home for one cause of death or another.

       Of course Williamus’s father could afford home schooling and servants to please Alexander’s every need and whim but what would that do but spoil the cub who’s hyperactive nature needed constant slaking? So the remedy….throw him on Williamus who already suffered under a ton of duties with the legion. Yet… Willamus adored his little brother and saw being given the responsibility to raise him properly as another challenge to enlist pride and pleasing from his father.

       As he set to removing his burdensome outer military armor and uniform. Williamus regarded his little brother’s pouting...”I’m very proud that you acted so well Alex.” Williamus said sternly. “Shows you are learning to be responsible for your actions.”

       Alexander sat on the ground. “I’m not a whelp! I’m going to be honest… I hate these studies. They’re brainless and stupid Will.”

       Williamus waved a paw finger. “Now keep in mind that these short “pet” names are just for here ok? Outside it’s always “Tribune” “Tribune Gray” or “Williamus, Legionary Tribune.”

        “I know that.” Alex growled. “I’m not stupid!” He then waved his wax tablet at Williamus. “This? This is stupid! Saying the same letters over and over again is stupid! I know them by heart, I knew them before I was eight and here I am at ten repeating them all day! Will?! It’s terrible! I feel like my brain is over an open fire!”

       Williamus leaned forwards in the chair he was sitting in. “And you will do them again…...and again…..and again…….and again no matter how upset you become. Alex? School is not about mundane and boring repetition. It is to cultivate discipline, patience, perseverance and stability….fine qualities you will need as you grow older and find your place to serve the greater good of the State. I’m not making you do these things because I want to be cruel and beat your behind every pivot of the sun dial.”

      Alex snickered back….”You need the practice though. For a tribune? You hit like a female….an old, saggy nippled, toothless female. And just what are we on here Will? An excursion to the summer villas in Capri? I thought I was going to see some combat?”

      “The only thing you will see is your wax tablet and your stylus.” Willamus replied. “Cesar is still debating what to do. The Roana River is not an obstacle to be assailed in a day.”

       Williamus moved to sit with his brother...”Now….what would you like for dinner? A pig? A bunny? Some mice? There are some deer with fawns? And I forgot….you!…..have not killed yet. I had my first kill when I was nine years old. You need to experience your first kill.”

        Alexander shook his head...”I’m not ready yet….maybe if you held it for me?”

       Williamus shook his head...”I will hold nothing for you. To properly honor our ancestors and the gawds….you must go feral and make the kill yourself with no help. But if you are not ready to do so yet? I fully understand, I will not chide you nor mock you but the other cubs in the camp will not be so kind.”

       Alexander perked his chest. “I’m not afraid of their words big brother. I may not be ready to kill a prey mammal yet? but I am certainly ready and willing to rip open the snoot of any wolf cub who blasphemes myself or my family.” 

      Williamus nodded. “I am sure you are. Now….back to your recitations.”

       Suddenly the flap of the tent opened and in walked a Legion Centurion (A Lion) wearing his full combat armor and red animal fur festooned legion helm. The Lion smacked his fist against his chest armor...

       “Tribune! Cesar is calling a counsel of War!” The Lion said.

        “What time will he have it?” Williamus asked.

        “When you hear the call horn Tribune. Then you should report to the main tent.” The lion replied. He then gave a slight bow and walked out.

        “Wow!” Alexander suddenly shot to his feet and panted with excitement. “A war counsel? Does this mean you’ll be going into combat?”

         “That could be possible.” Williamus replied. “Don’t get your hopes up just yet. Cesar has often called counsels for planning strategy and debates and we sometimes have never seen combat. However? Your combat at the moment is wax tablet and stylus so get to work.”

           Alexander moaned, opened his tablet and started to work his alphabet recitation when Williamus gave his ear a little lick kiss and whispered softly…
Don’t stay up too late tonight ok? And tonight you can be my pillow...I might just take you up on your little offer….if you are willing little brother?”

         Alexander turned his head and lick kissed Williamus’s nose...”Since when have I ever not been “willing” dear older brother?” He said softly. “Now leave me to my torture before I do stay up late.”

Year 373 of the Roman Calendar
Mid-June
The Zootopian Middle Age
Mid-evening
Encampment of the ninth and tenth legions
The main headquarters tent.

           Williamus arrived not long after the signal horn had blown to a tent full of legion officers. The Legates Imperium (four officers) who commanded two legions a piece. The Legates Legonus (eight officers) who commanded each legion. The  Tribunus Laticlavius (eight officers) who were the sub-commanders of the legions and eight Centurions who represented the individual cohorts of each legion.

           Walking up to one of them, a black wolf named Marcus Victor who had been a friend since cub-hood, Williamus reached out his arm to be clasped by his friends paws….

           “Hail Marcus.” Williamus said with a smile.

            “Hail Williamus.” Marcus replied. He pointed to the simple map laid out on the floor by way of colored rocks and sticks with writings set out on wax tablets at various important points and of course the Roana River displayed with actual water in a hand dug trench. “Seems the Great Captain of our hosts has made his decision. By inspiration….or…..by tremors.” Marcus said as he took a cup of wine from a slave and passed one to Williamus.

            “Well we can’t just sit here playing dice games and beating each other down with swords.” Williamus replied. “Our provisions are few, the forage not sufficient and the damned river….a cursed divide that laughs at our snoots.”

             “My dear Williamus, you are still good at oratory I see.” Marcus said as he punched Williamus in the chest armor. “Any way? We shall see what the Commander has decided….I hope.”

             Suddenly a horn blew at the tent flap and in walked Cesar dressed in his finest combat armor, minus the adoring consular helm, being followed by Questriatus and Stefinus…

             “Good evening my friends….I trust not all of you are falling down drunk with the wine and have grown tired of being lazy?” Cesar said as he regarded one of the Legates, a panther, with a gentle rub of the arm...”My dear Hostus...it is good to see you up again. The bout you suffered was most worrisome.”

             “The gawds saw fit to be merciful.” The panther replied. “Your obedient servant was most helpful to me.” Hostus also suffered from epilepsy.

           “He is my servant no more.” Cesar replied. “You may now regard the honorable Questriatus as no more a bond mammal but a free predator of Rome once more…..and my chief engineer.”

           Williamus raised a paw….”But? Commander? Tertius?”

           “Tertius is not an engineer any more, nor is he a free Roman. Two things you do not do before Cesar? Tell him he can’t do anything and insult his house which is exactly what Tertius did when he insulted Questriatus...I will have none of this in my army.” Cesar said as he walked up to the map on the floor of the tent. “Gentle-mammals….close ranks please on me?”

Note: No better actor existed to be an example of what Cesar may have been in life than the late Rex Harrison circa 1963 in the movie Cleopatra.

         “As you all know...the Roana has been the whipping dog of past legions, a most...intolerant thing she is….the currents sometimes severe, the depth un-known, the distance a mocker. No more. Previous Counsels failed abysmally to plan successfully nor devise brilliantly. Then again no Counsels have had the favor of a faithful friend and companion such as our little friend. Questriatus, if you will please us all?”

       Questriatus walked onto the map. “This afternoon I conducted a survey of the river and found that its’ maximum depth was only three Pertica (24 feet). The river bottom is soft, the timbers of the forest that surrounds us are at least four Pertica in height (39 feet) and very robust in their circumference. Therefore...we will bridge the span of the river. I have devised a bridge of sufficient strength and the means to drive the pilings that will support it. We have eight legions….it will take five of them working day and night to complete the bridge in four days.”

        Cesar regarded the predators around him and their faces...some of course showed a little more than minute skepticism at the idea...”I expected some of you to look a little….confused? How many of you doubt this could be achieved?”

        No one dared to raise their paw which made Cesar smile. “Very wise. None of you want to be latrine servers obviously? But….the job is still open if you so chose demotion?”

        That got a chuckle.  

        Cesar looked at Questriatus and motioned a paw finger...”Take your slave and leave Questriatus.” He said. When Questriatus was gone, Cesar motioned in the air...any slave who is not owned by any of you personally? Kill them.” Brutally, a pair of bunnies, two deer fawns and three sheep were killed on the command! Two Tribunes took relish in ripping apart a fawn’s throat and holding up the dead, blood dripping carcus in their jaws….

       “I said...kill them….” Cesar snarled….”Not make them bleed all over the map? What are you two? Wild animals?” The Commander snorted which enlisted a little chuckle from the others in the tent. One of the wolves handed the dead deer fawn over to a servant. “Prepare him well? He’s very tasty.”

      Cesar sighed then grabbed a pointing stick...”Now….as Questriatus has so stated, it will take four days to complete his bridge across the river. No doubt that as we make our way towards the other side...the Tuskers will be more than alarmed if not transfixed upon the sight with curious fear. That of course is what we want.”

      Cesar pointed on his map some ways upstream from the point where the bridge would cross...”While the bridge is under construction, three Legua (Lee-jah) (1 Legua = 7,000 feet) up river we will send a new composite legion drawn from the eight to forge the river in the traditional method. Questriatus will be working through the night finding confederates to help us in this task. Between the bridge and this legion crossing, we shall perform a diversion using ropes, tackles and torches to make the Tusker’s believe we are forging the river by night at that point. Between this diversion and the bridge? We will fix the weight of their numbers at the river’s edge.”

      Cesar moved over his map to the Tusker side. “It will take two nights for this composite legion to get across the river, 5,000 wolves in all. They will be lightly armed, lightly provisioned, fast moving and without the comfort of traditional fortification. Your objectives are simple...terrorize the enemy rear and go for their Capital city here….at Chelsea. You will not loot, you will not take spoils, you will not stop to go marketing. You may take pray mammals as food along the way but no enough to slow you down...slaughter the rest. where you come across a village? You will scourge it. When you reach the Tusker Capital? You will rape it. I doubt there will be anything to stop you when you get there any way.”

       Cesar moved again...”By the forth day...the greater weight of our forces will be coming across the bridge. I expect many of the prey mammals on the enemy side to flee and fold. At that point? Our composite Legion will have destroyed their capital and will be coming South while we advance to the North. We will catch the Confederate troops between a hammer and an anvil and will crush them. After which? You may go looking for spoil to your hearts content.”

        Cesar looked around the tent with a stern look on his face...” Legates Legonus Williamus Graylus?”

         Williamus shuddered as Cesar called him out. “Yes Great Cesar?”

       “You...will lead the composite legion.” Cesar said with a pointing paw finger, which caused more than a few of those in the tent to react with trepidation. One  Legates Legonus, a Lion, raised his paw without fear…

       “Commander? If I may speak for some who worry about your reaction?” The Lion asked.

        “Yes….I know the questions already.” Cesar replied. “Too young, Not a lot of battles under his paws, influential father….I know. I do not make a choice unless I am confident of the results and I have confidence Tribune Graylus can perform the task at hand. If there are no further questions? Go back to your troops, spread the word and begin preparing wolves who can match my requirements to serve under Tribune Graylus’s claws. And get some rest...we begin before the sun rises.”

      Cesar turned from the assembly and marched out the tent but not before stopping before Williamus...”Come see me in my tent.” Cesar commanded. “Wait till the call of the second watch (9pm -12am).”

      “Yes Cesar.” Williamus replied with a slap of his chest armor, though his rigid demeanor did not hide the look of surprise nor uncertainty in his own heart at such an important commission upon him. The walk back to his own tent felt like an eternity and when he entered...he already found his little brother curled up and sound asleep in his bed….in Williamus’ bed. When his older brother came to rest on the makeshift mattress of straw and cloth...Alexander awoke and wrapped himself in the bed sheet…

       “How was the meeting with Cesar?” Alexander asked. “I finished my recitations as you asked big brother.”

        Williamus sat on the mattress and dipped his head down as if he were tired… or worried. Whatever the case, Alexander draped himself over his brother’s back and wrapped his arms around Williamus’ shoulders. “What is it Big Brother?”

       “Sigh...” Williamus let out a breath...”We will cross the Roana...by bridge.”

        Alexander yelped with excitement as he leaned around his big brother… ”We’re going to attack?!”

       “Yes.” Williamus replied. “I am to take a legion and forge the river farther down. Five thousand legionaries.”

        The young wolf was beside himself with glee! Alexander jumped off the bed, rested his paws on his brother’s knees and shook his tail and naked behind furiously! “You’re leading a legion?! The God of Luna shines on my Big Brother! I am so happy for you Will! A legion! Father will be screaming when he hears this!”

       Williamus didn’t react with happiness though...his face cut the air with a frown of disappointment. Alexander relaxed himself and took Williamus’ paws in his….

       “Will? What’s wrong? This is a great moment for you! For our family!” Alexander asked.

        “You mean good for father since he set it up.” Williamus snorted. “Why can’t I do anything by my own efforts? Why does father have to manipulate everything I try to do?!

        Alexander sighed and drooped...”So bed tonight is going to be hostile because of father? I’ll sleep in my own bed...”

        Williamus reached out and took Alexander’s wrist..”Alex? Hold….” He said softly as he pulled the little naked wolf into his arms and gently kissed him...” Never will there be hostility between us...Alex...I hope you understand my frustrations concerning our Father?”

       Alexander gently placed his paws around his brother’s snoot. “I think you measure yourself short...but I love you no less...”

       The young cub gently kissed Williamus’ lips then slipped his tongue into his brother’s maw and whined softly as he felt Will’s paws rub over his small naked body and tail…

       “Come and let us have some fun in bed brother?” Alex asked as he gazed into Will’s eyes. “Come on and take me?”

         Williamus gently coaxed Alex off his lap...”I have an audience with Cesar to go to….Alexander. Go back to bed and keep it warm? I will not be long.” Williamus said as he patted Alex’s naked rump and pushed him towards his bed. “I can only hope for once? That father has chosen to keep himself and his money out of my life.”

Year 373 of the Roman Calendar
Mid-June
The Zootopian Middle Age
2nd watch (9pm to 12am)
Cesar’s tent

        Cesar stood over a table regarding a small model of the planned bridge of Questria with great curiosity and interest. The bridge of course named for his former servant who planned it out. He was on his knees getting an eye level view of the model when a Centurion popped through the tent flap…

      “With your permission Commander? The Tribune Graylus calls.” The soldier said with a slight bow.

       “Oh yes...” Cesar replied as he got to his feet and stood with his hands behind his back. “Allow him.”

       Williamus entered the tent and saluted with a paw to the chest. “Hail Great Cesar on the evening of his coming victory!”

       “Hail Tribune soon to be  Legates Legonus Graylus who will assure it.” Cesar replied. “I can only imagine that your younger brother was bouncing around your tent making uncontrollable pee splashes everywhere at the news.”

       Williamus kept his serious posture as he tried to speak...”I am honored that Great Cesar has chosen this lowly soldier to command but….”

       Cesar waved a paw...”Yes….yes…..I understand….your father. Rest assured Williamus that it was not your father who ordained this for you. I swear to you the choice was mine to make and make alone and I chose you. Your father may be one of my most beneficial patrons back in Rome but that is there….not here.”

      Williamus replied. “Then why me Sir? Will Great Cesar be so kind as to give me his wisdom that I might be enforced?”

      Cesar gestured to a chair and took one for himself...”Perhaps your father does share some credit for your selection after all? I have found that you are wrapped in an endless competition with him as well as with your own character. The very thought of your father influencing your course in the world fills you with loathing and anger and so you double your efforts to break away from him and be justly given reward for your own merits. Your father is like the mythical werewolf Williamus who chases you in dreams where you run like you’re in quicksand yet you run and you double your run and you double that run and so on.”

      Williamus shook his head...”My brain feels like warm melting wax.”

      “By the gawds young wolf! Do you need a nose ring and a leash or be coddled like a two day old suckling? I chose you for your ever increasing prowess, your intelligence, your drive and your ambition made all the more hard and steel by your father’s over-bearing. The legion you will have is yours, the moves you will make will be yours, the prey you throw upon cooking fires shall be yours and beyond that river? Lies the Tusker city of Chelsea and that my fine young friend? That! Shall be yours…..if you will leave your father back in this camp and go forth with your own heart, blood and brains….need I say more?”

     Wlliamus sat in thought until Cesar demanded an answer once more….”Need I say more?!”

     “No Sir!” Williamus replied sternly. “I will bring you glory or my tail shall lay in the mud at the door to your tent as proof of my failure and death.”

    Cesar looked serious for a moment then broke a chuckle...”You are as bad as most of the bards of Rome with your corny sacrificial oratory….of course you will not die because if you do die my young friend? I will chase after you in Hades, stab the boatman at the river Styx and bring you back to the legions so they can kill you again.”

     Williamus smiled back. “Now who is corny?”

      Cesar threw an arm around Williamus’ shoulders...”Now enough of this talk of youthful uncertainly. You will do well, I have faith. Only one thing must I impart to you when you go. To get your entire legion across the river in two days will require absolute discipline….absolute. The legion must remain quiet, concealed in the dense forest and undetected. It will require a great exercise in discipline who’s failures can not be tolerated nor condoned. I want it to be policy set by decree of Cesar himself. Any legionnaire who places the safety of the legion, under your command Williamus, in mortal danger?  That legionare and or any other wolves assigned to your command who violate these orders in the field?...”

         “They shall be killed without regard by hanging or by garrot...slowly so they suffer a horrible death. They shall not be buried with honors nor shall anything from them return to Rome. They shall walk Hades for eternity without hope. So say Cesar, so say Rome. You will of course have it in writing.” Cesar said as he leaned forwards in his chair...”Do not disappoint me Williamus. I count on you to be prompt and on time with the reserves by the time we cross the river. It is vital that you reach the Tusker capital city and turn South to help us engage the enemy hosts. You can only do that by enforcing discipline...I know you have the strength of mind and will to do this Williamus. For once? Forget you’re father and make this adventure personal. That is all I will say on the subject.”

       Cesar waved his paw...”Get a good night’s sleep Legates Legonus Graylus. Tomorrow certainly will be chaos enough without you passing out from lack of sleep. Remind your little “ear puller” to leave you alone. You may sleep until 7 tomorrow morning. Now go please so I may sleep?”

      Williamus bowed and put his paw to his chest. “Yes Sir. And may I thank great and august Cesar once more for this command? I will not fail you.”

     “I expect no failure.” Cesar replied. Put the word out of your vocabulary, hate and disdain it until it becomes as bitter as salt water down your pallet. You will not fail me Legates Legonus Graylus. Now….good night.”

End of Chapter 2