April 21, 753 BC - the Birth of an Empire

Oh King, ay? Very Nice.

Oh King ay? Very Nice. And how'd you get that ay? By exploiting the workers. By hanging on to outdated imperialist dogma which perpetuates the economic and social differences in our society...

Lucius Tarquinius rode north in the chilly morning air. For twenty-six years had he been King and, in his own opinion, a good one.

Who was it who had taken Suessa Pometia from the Volsci? Who had laid the foundations for the great Temple to Jupiter atop Saturnine Hill? And now the great temple was almost complete. Who had beaten the Gabii? Who had improved the road to their port at Ostia and renovated Romulus’s original walls around Palatine Hill? Who had renewed the peace with the Etruscans and signed a new peace with the Aequi. Who had beaten the Sabines? Who had established new colonies at Signia and Cerceii? Who had done these things?

He had.

His building projects had never been popular with the plebs. Bread and circuses were their pleasure. They watched the chariots going around and around the Circus Maximus and found some strange contentment in life. Neither had they been unpopular though. Until recently.

He’d headed out to capture the Rutili capital of Ardea with the aim to bring in spoils, reinvigorating the economy. Now this.

He’d never liked his youngest son. Sextus was an irresponsible reckless boy who lacked respect for his elders. He drank in inns, raced chariots and visited ♥♥♥♥♥♥. Some of the nobles had gotten their claws into him and lead him down a bad path.

He’d also had a full measure and more of Lucius’s own charm and wiles though. It was Sextus who’d talked his way into the walled city of the Gabii and secured their surrender. He could talk the stola off a Vestal Virgin.

Did the King believe that Sextus had raped that women? No. If a woman wouldn’t open her legs, he would see it as a challenge to win her affection. And her ‘suicide’ after confiding the alleged fact to certain noblemen was more than suspicious. No, Lucius Tarquinius knew when there was a conspiracy at work.

Now he rode north with only five-hundred loyal retainers. The rest of his army had been split in their loyalties by the arrival of one of the conspirators. Marcus Brutus. The ♥♥♥♥. If he’d managed to win over more of the army the King knew he’d have been dead by now. The game of power was played for keeps.

But even the half who had supported him wanted to go home to their families. They didn’t want to live in exile fighting a civil war against their own city. So a compromise agreement had been reached and Tarquin the Proud rode north for Etruria. His family came from the region and they still had deep roots among its people. Relations and partnerships. There was even a city bearing his family name; Tarquinii.

He called to Gnaeus, his Man of Shadows, and to Marius. He would send Marius to Rome to go before the Senate and request the return of his personal property.