SPQR Chapter 7
No sooner had Martellus Lisenius entered the Senate than a feeling of dread encompassed him. The wolf looked out across the seats and saw other Senators who had just been sworn in (elections were out of the question, one of the new "reforms" the new Emperor had passed) since the Senate last convened. In reality, many of the old Senators who believed in the Senate's power over the Emperor (known as Republicans) had left, either fleeing from Domitian's wrath or they had been exiled by the Emperor himself. And those were the ones blessed by the gods. Many had been thrown in prison, and some of the leopard's harshest critics had paid the ultimate price for their unwillingness to submit to the Emperor's requests. In their place sat the Imperialists, loyal to Domitian, their loyalty purchased by bribes of land and money.
All eyes were focused on the Senator who had brought his gladius from home, covered in a cloak. The wolf knew exactly what he was going to do with that weapon- right when the Emperor walked. A quick assassination to the end this power-hungry monarch's reign and very soon, he would send Rome to enlightened rule as had been the case when he was elected decades ago. Age had taken some of the quickness out of his paws but he would accomplish this task and become himself the new Emperor of a city he would restore to its former grace.
"Guards, cease that wolf. I know he comes at me with the most evil and blood-red intentions." It was the voice of the Emperor who had entered from the back entrance. There was absolutely no way anyone could have known- and yet the evil leopard had somehow learned. His eyes pointed directly towards the wolf, now viciously tackled and disarmed by the strong centurions serving as Domitian's bodyguards. "My boy, there was always somebody willing to reveal your secret. With the right leverage, I can make people do anything I want. But before these soldiers take you away to the dungeons, tell me why you did this to your lord and god. Let him speak before his death!"
The wolf's eyes seethed with righteous anger, his teeth razor sharp were bared in a sign of hatred. "I needed to end this madness that you have brought about. Is it not ironic that you, masquerading as some divine god amongst us mortals, stand not for justice and peace but that you stand for wickedness and murder? You are evil!"
The Emperor's feigned outrage came as a surprise to no one, as he stared at his victim, looking for any sign of weakness. The Romans had lived in fear of the "mal oculi", the evil eye and this is exactly what the Emperor was doing with to the wolf. Martellus, a seasoned warrior on the fields of Thracia and Judea had stared down enemies before but he knew that the leopard he was looking at was more intimidating and powerful and dangerous than anyone he had ever seen. "Evil. Evil is merely a perspective which no longer concerns me or anyone else on this Senate. Morality is an abstract concept that the philosophers can formulate while their rulers go about bringing prosperity for the nation, by any means necessary. I am a god- my will is divine and good for the people. And here you stand trying to oppose me. You are the evil one."
The other Seantors were now giving the wolf looks of cold dismissal- all were either Imperialists or afraid of looking insubordinate around such an evil ruler. Martellus was all alone in his fight against this unjust Emperor. "What of your father, Vespasian who did not seek worship or your brother Titus who sought the advice of trusted aides? Why are you not more like them?"
"It is simple. Our city rose to prominence by discarding the weak. Other nations were weak so we took their land. There is no room in Rome for compassion, or for anyone who shows compassion. My brother and father thought otherwise, always looking out for the weaker ones and nature in her curelty disposed of them. The world is harsh and unforgiving, so that must be our nature if we are to succeed." Never had the wolf heard such blasphemies against the customs and values of his people before, not even in his tenure in the army in places where the Empire was hated. And yet such arrogant and foolish talk was coming from the one who should have known everything about Rome.
"It is a shame you will not live to see the limitless expansion of our Empire to the ends of the world. This nation will rule all the others, it is our divine right to do so. But we will not be able accomplish this task with weaklings of your nature," the leopard Emperor said spitting in Martellus' muzzle. "I could save you from prison and exceution if you would only bow your knee and admit the obvious fact that I am a divine god, sent to lead Rome to world domination." Though there was enormous pressure on the wolf to submit and bow his knee to the Emperor, Martellus had not come this far to submit to such a wicked man. If a martyr's death would be needed to dethrone this wicked and deadly king, the wolf would die a martyr.
"I will never suffer a man who lacks decency and compassion. You are a tyrant, a demon in the pelt of a leopard and I will never woship you. For anyone of goodwill, death would be preferred to suffering any longer under your misrule." When he was finished speaking, the centurion bodyguards came and grabbed him by the nape of his neck- ripping his Senatorial robes and leaving him exposed to the entire city. It would be the beginning of his fall from grace and public humiliation- Martellus knew those who insulted the Emperors would be thrown into prison and then executed in the arenas as part of entertainment for the masses.
"This wolf's fall should be an example to every Senator," the Emperor said as the wolf was being dragged out of the door naked and humiliated "regardless your species, you should never defy me if you value your life. I am a god!" The bodyguard, a powerful falcon of immense strength took the now-disgraced Senator to the garrison, long since converted to an overcrowded, insanitary, and foetid prison filled with an ever-increasing number of prisoners (more than half of whom were innocent of any serious crime). Martellus could overhear talk of as "summary execution", which could be completed by tomorrow, meaning that this would very well be his last day.
Soon, Martellus was slammed into a prison cell as viciously as possible; it was a miracle that as his muzzle and the rest of his body were thrown against the rough-hewn stone wall of his cell that the worst insult to his frame was a headache. Immediately, the wolf knew that what he had done was wrong- trying to plan a one-man revolution was in retrospect, the most foolish thing Martellus had ever done in all his years. A Legionnaire would have known that it would have taken months, maybe years for a revolution to be conceived, organized and eventually succeed. Instead, Martellus was ruled by passion and anger and now he would have to pay the consequences. Or would he? His claws, though useless against the centurion's tough armor were sharp enough to sever arteries- a self-inflicted wound would be enough to end Martellus' suffering and this was a popular form of suicide amongst all the creatures of Rome. The wolf, now in a state of despair had nothing to gain now as he put his paw close to his neck and felt his sharp claw touch the fur of his neck.
"Stop! You must not do this wicked thing!"