Chapter 1

Marcus had to pay the ultimate price. As usual it dealt with a woman, no, a girl this time. It was not what it seemed though. This time the Emperor's daughter was not a conquest, she was, she was... , and she was special. He had fallen love with her and from what he saw, she with him.

Nothing would have happened to her. Her guards had burst in and took her away. Marcus was held then made to appear before a tribunal. There he could only say the truth. The prefect made the comment that it was the same story Rasney had told. That fact saved his life.

No common soldier would ever be welcome to be a son-in-law. There soon followed a new assignment for Marcus. He understood why he was now expendable, but not why an entire Legion would be sacrificed. He began to make plans. Someone or something too was watching, a smile and grin on that unseen face.

Tiberius Claudius Caesar Augustus Germanicus; had mixed feelings about this solution. Marcella, his wife, had insisted a war on Carthage was due. She thought Claudius would lead it. He elevated Marcus, gave him command with the comment that any man his daughter would like, had to have some skill in war, after all her mother seemed to thrive on it.

It was a full Legion. 10,000 men, 6,000 auxiliaries (Slingers and Archers), 1,800 Calvary, tents, wagons, cooks, merchants, artisans and an assortment of the proverbial 'camp' followers.

Claudius was unsure what to do. Putting an end to this upstart would have been easy. There was something, however, in the face of his daughter he had never seen before. She did not defy him, pout, and rage or show any temper. She merely said. "Father you will do as you will, but tell me, would a man like Marcus not make a good husband or must I wed one of those you choose for me?"

Marcus made no plea either. His comment was that it was true his life up until then was not stellar. When, by chance, he met and understood more about Rasney, he was watching over her until her guards came. She was unlike anyone he ever knew and made him feel she was who he had been waiting for all his life. Tiberius Claudius Caesar Augustus Germanicus; based on everything he found out could not decide what to do. Knowing how devious his wife was he had an idea to thwart her plans whatever they were.

Marcus would go to Carthage, not to try to conquer a nation with only one full legion but to verify what Claudius had been told. Not many, if anyone in court could be trusted, the death of the last three rulers were a testament to that. The people were getting tired of the Palace intrigues too. Perhaps, just perhaps his daughter and this Marcus would make a better pair to rule than Marcella and her lovers.

The times would not allow several dozen legions to leave Rome and to start a war with Carthage. One legion would not draw attention, nor would a new commander where rumors could link him to the Emperor and his daughter. Claudius was seeing things a different way now. A better way for him he thought.

Thinking he was about to die, Marcus dressed in his finest uniform and emerged from his house. The guard, the Elite Praetorians was not expected. At journey's end was the Emperor. The soldiers around him were some he knew and new officers from the 12th. It was recently reformed and brought up to full strength and more. The addition of merchants, tradesmen and several hundred artisans made it one of the few self-sustaining units. This was not an execution, he felt.

A scarlet cape, silver-gold helmet crested with red horsehairs were presented to him now.

"I present you the 12th, your Legion Commander."

'By the gods' he thought. He must be dreaming.

The Emperor called him forward, handed him a ring, swords and wax filled tablet with his orders.

"In this day, there are very few an Emperor may trust to speak the truth. Make my choice not to be rid of you a welcomed decision Marcus. You seem to have a supporter close to me. When, and if you get back, we will speak again and perhaps there is more for you here."

In the background, Rasney looked on, a smile on her face. The frown and look of hate on Marcella's was also there to see.

A small group of soldiers had been added to the 12th. These were not those that had been planted by Marcella to insure a failure of the trip, but hand picked Praetorians, selected by the Emperor himself. If this upstart was intended to be mated to his daughter, he wanted him to have a fair chance and he knew Marcella was seldom fair.

Claudius had arranged a few more changes. One notable one was that the ships to transport the 12th were not Roman. An envoy had been sent to Carthage to request passage. It had been based on the Emperor's request that this visit needed the very best ships and sailors available. Carthage gladly agreed. Carthaginian ships meant that this was not an invasion force. More so, it might be a conciliatory gesture on the part of Rome to bridge the fears and mistrust fostered by the 'Punic Wars'.

Marcella was livid, the people celebrated. They too were tired of war with Carthage. Other, more hated foes were about. If this front were secure, many in Rome would be pleased. Centuries of battle, frivolous conflicts and 'insane' Emperors like Caligula coupled by barbarian tribes invading had a sobering effect. Many people wanted change, some wanted things the way they used to be.

Our friend, the watcher, had waited for just this kind of opportunity to change the future.

In the year 2963, most of the world had been destroyed. For more than 600 years, science and the few remaining survivors strove to remedy what had happened. They were committed, like the pig was in making bacon, and they were desperate. They knew what a paradox was, anything, they surmised was superior to what was left. At worst, nothing might be left. That was preferable even.