The Unspoken Emperor

Prologue

A lightening bolt forks from the sky like the tongue of his namesake, thunder booming deafeningly of the walls of ne Siena marble who's red veins glow crimson, slick with rain. Draco Caesar Augustus Germanicus, rst son of Emperor Caligula and his consort Junia Claudilla, walked slowly through the pleasure palace's garden. He should have taken the weather as a bad omen, for it was. I should of course have been dead 33 years before. Murdering before even taking your rst breath is something of a record even even in my family, mother dying in agony trying to bring me into the world.

I think that should have told them something.

My father, desperate for a son to secure his lineage, refusing to believe that he had lost both consort and successor in one night, dismissed all attendants into the stormy night. I can't say that it's a coincidence that all the major milestones in my life took place on stormy nights. silhouetted against a full moon in a tattered black cloak, soaked through and seemingly melting off her skeletal frame father summoned in Hexe. The witch was his wise woman from germanicus who had been brought to rid father of his demons. Unsuccessfully. I talk of this in the First person, not as someone who had the tale retold to him on a cold winters evening by a caring relative years after the event but as someone who, impossibly, witnessed these events with my own eyes as clear as I see you now. Well, if you have eyes to see with when disembodied oating above the scene as I was. Hexe touched my forehead with a rune which hissed and steamed on contact. On seeing this my father grabbed the witch by the throat, "Do not harm my legacy or you will die". She just laughed. A laugh that still echoes through time & rings as clear in my ears as if hearing for the rst time, piecing to my very soul. Small and black though it is. "emperor, sire, you cannot kill that which is already dead, for we will all die. Let me work and the boy may yet breath, but I fear he is already marked for him". My father, looking down on my forehead noticed no mark and loosened his grip. The rune, returned to my head hissed and steamed once more. This time the witch chanted some words which I did not understand. I felt a searing pain, total blindness and then calm. All trace of pain, gone. I would never feel it again. I opened my eyes and father was looking down at me, with Hexe on my left. Father smiled and rushed outside seeking aid for me to get cleaned and wrapped. The witch leaned

down, and so quiet as to be unheard by all save me she said "welcome my prince of death, we have been waiting. In 15 years you shall ascend the imperial throne. In 18 years you shall open the gates of hell. We are you servants" and with that she turned and left. Father sought her to reward her for her service but no palace guard had seen such a hag.

And so it is, 33 years to the day later, walking the rough, slick stones of the same palace's garden paths that I expect to die. If dying is what you call it. I think of it more as 'transition', like a caterpillar to a buttery, it's just that some buttery's are most beautiful than others and most caterpillars don't survive. Ah, Quintus is up ahead. I should have known, it's practically tradition for the Praetorian Guard to murder their emperors. Still, at least I'll have the blade and not a lingering end. I hate waiting. Quintus's bronze moon and stars breastplate, slick with the rain caught ashes of the lightning streaks making him seem a demon. He approaches now, I undo my purple clock, cast it aside and draw my Gladius. Forged from metal of the swords of my fallen enemies over the last 18 years it is my most precious object. I fall to my knees. I hold my sword out, handle rst for Quintus. I say "I never thought it would be you. You have guarded my side since my ascension and were my fathers most loyal guard, avenging his death vigorously for me, boy as I was. Why now?" Quintus said "My rst duty is to Rome, you have deled her with your evil, murder and debauchery". Taking my sword he thrust it point rst through my throat, warm blood owing down my chest. Looking into Quintus's eyes I smiled.

Then, nothing. Blackness. But a sense of still being present. Something had gone wrong, it wasn't supposed to last this long. That was 1954 years ago. Quintus would of course say it was suicide. What else would it be from the mad emperor? Well that was the plan anyway. Hexe, watching from a deep shadowed recess in the outer wall moved to my body as Quintus ran to tell the rest of the guard and palace staff of his 'discovery'. With supernatural strength she lifted me and carried my accid corpse to the recess, unlocking a secret door out to her home, a cave right on the lakes shoreline. No one half sane had ever approached that cave, not since the days of my father. It was said to be cursed. Funny that. A pyre had been set for me as planned, her 'devlin' worshippers gathered around the spectacle to witness the opening of the gates, for it turns out I am something of a key. I do not mid being a key, a key has a function, a purpose. Torches were lit, a re was started. Flames danced inside that cave and my mortal remains were reduced to ash, a very ne ash I have to say. A pottery urn with my name accepted these ashes and the closing ceremony for the lid, made of black onynx and also stamped, to be placed and the seal completed commenced. Once sealed the gates would open, the armies of hell would break loose upon the earth my legacy, my birthright will be complete.

But as it turns out lighting that pyre might not have been such a good idea. Quintus, returning to the palace garden to show off my body was, clearly, surprised when none presented itself. Not even blood marks, washed off the rocks with the rain, remained.

Clearly panicking that I should somehow have survived and have him seized he noticed footprints int he gardens oil, and following out the palace walls he saw the dancing light, with the deep black still shadows. Drawing his Gladius he rushes to the cave mouth. Taking Hexe by surprise is perhaps not easy, but it was a look of genuine surprise when a short sword appeared through her bony chest. The blood lling her mouth stopped her saying the last chant whilst Quintus quickly made bloody work of the remaining pagans. Seeing my the pyre he guessed what had been done and cursed that the nger of suspicion would now rise, he needn't have worried, half of Rome wanted me dead, he would have been a hero. As he turned to leave the cave a violent lightening strike above shook the cavern, rock collapsed and crushed Quintus, burying all evidence of his crime. And my hopes. Except, except...a small girl. She lived. She found a shaft of light and, being of course eternally grateful she carried on worshipping the 'Devlin' and hushed whispers of an urn which must be sealed. It turns out you need your name written down to survive, in spirt at least. The Senate, who think there souls are safe and whom I hope to torture in perpetuity in the future, decreed that my rule was not to be recorded in the roles, my crimes and deeds to great, my sins to evil. They were quite strict about this, all statutes, inscriptions and other mention of me were destroyed. Teaching even the memory of me was banned on pain of death.

I became the Unspoken Emperor, forgotten in the mists of time.

1

And so that urn became my sanctuary. Dark, cold blankness for eternity but still I lingered. And then, as if from nowhere, a shaft of blinding light....

Emergency Services Operator: we have had reports of a man suffering a suspected heart attack whilst diving in Lake Nemi, please attend scene and offer assistance. Ambulance Control Centre: conrmed, dispatching units now. Please conrm any other details Emergency Services Operator: the gentleman is named as Stephen Anderson, Senior Marine Archaeologist for the Schliemann Institute of Archaeology, aged 52 years, reportedly in good health with no previous medical conditions.

Emergency Services Operator: conrmed, ambulance response approaching scene now... Professor Stephen Anderson looked up. Bubbles. Damn bubble and silt.