"Have the men finished their preparations?"
"Yes, sir."
Gaius Julius Caesar nodded at his officer's report.
According to Roman custom, a general invested with imperium was forbidden to lead an army across the Rubicon.
To cross the Rubicon, the river that separated Italy from Cisalpine Gaul, a man had to surrender his command and dismiss his legions.
Thus generals would dismiss their troops here and only summon them again when the time came for an official triumph in Rome.
"I hear Rome is already quite in an uproar."
"The citizens are eagerly awaiting your arrival, Imperator."
"Or perhaps they are more eager for the spoils of war I brought back from Hispania." Caesar replied with a smirk.
Aided by his attendants, he unbuckled his armor and stepped out of his command tent.
Normally the camp would be alive with drilling at this hour, but today, the legionaries were packing their equipment with obvious excitement.
As he walked by, the soldiers snapped to attention and saluted.
"Imperator."
"You've led us well, Imperator."
Caesar acknowledged them with a slight nod before stopping to pick up a long wooden pole resting against the edge of the camp.
His officers quickly trailed behind him.
"Any word from Lucius yet?"
"He should arrive before the day is out. His scouts already reached us last night."
"Good. Send him straight to me the moment he arrives."
"Sir, several senators have also requested an audience with you..."
"Tell them I am occupied with urgent matters. I have no time to waste dealing with old foxes on a day like this."
Caesar turned his gaze upward.
The sky over Italy did not look so very different from the sky above Hispania.
With a fishing rod slung over his shoulder, he strolled out of the camp with his personal guards.
"Today is going to be a good day."
***
"Right this way, sir. The Imperator has been waiting for you."
"Thank you."
Following the officer's lead, I pushed my way through the thick brush.
So, this is the Rubicon.
The place where Caesar would one day cast the die. The very river that would decide the fate of Italy—and perhaps of the world beyond it.
In the original timeline, Caesar marched his legions across this water and straight into Rome.
That single step ignited a brutal civil war that claimed tens of thousands of lives.
What was going through his mind when he crossed this river?
Breaking through the last of the foliage, I spotted a ring of heavily armed legionaries.
They eyed me warily for a split second before nodding and gesturing toward the water bank.
Following their gaze, I spotted a very familiar face.
My father. The man who, in history, swallowed the Roman Republic whole and became dictator for life: Gaius Julius Caesar.
The man who had filled Rome with fear, turmoil, and fanatical devotion was, at that moment... fishing.
It was certainly not the dramatic conqueror's pose I had expected.
I couldn't help but chuckle as I walked up to him.
"Any luck with the fish today?"
I stood right next to him and cleared my throat, but father kept his eyes locked on the rippling water.
"Whenever I look at this river, I can't help but think of our Republic. Don't you agree?"
"I can't say I see many similarities between a river and the Republic, no."
"When we look at a river, we think of it as the same river day after day. The river that flowed yesterday, the river that flows today, and the river that will flow tomorrow."
Father lightly tugged on his fishing rod.
"But a river is constantly changing at every instant. The water flowing through it is entirely different. Yesterday's river is not today's river. And tomorrow's river will be something else entirely."
"I suppose if enough time passes, even the course of the river changes. Sometimes it dries up completely, or it swells and floods the banks."
If the Roman Republic was the river, then its citizens were the water.
As time marched on, the people changed, and the Republic took on a wholly different form.
"In the end, the only thing that remains exactly the same is the river's name. Our Republic is no different. The Republic itself is nothing more than just a word."
With that, he finally stood up and turned to face me.
We stood there in silence for a moment, simply looking at each other.
A moment later, he pulled me into a crushing embrace.
"I missed you, Lucius. You've grown into quite a man since I last saw you."
"And you haven't changed a bit, Father."
Aside from his skin being slightly tanned from the Iberian sun, he looked exactly the same as the day he left.
That intense yet playful gaze, and that familiar, confident smile that never seemed to leave his face.
"Though it does seem your hair has retreated a little further."
"To insult an Imperator in such a manner... I should have you crucified on the spot."
Father burst into laughter, ruffling my hair.
"I'm afraid you can't. I'm also currently holding imperium granted by the Senate."
"Yes, I know. I've been quite busy in Hispania... but my own achievements seem pale beside yours, Lucius."
Saying that, father threw a heavy arm around my shoulder.
"Come and sit. We have so many things to talk about."
"First, there is something I would like to ask."
"Hm?"
"Why did you insist on coming by land instead of by ship? I thought I was going to die getting all the way here."
And it had taken forever, too.
No matter how well maintained the roads were, traveling this far north was no easy feat.
"While I was in Hispania, you traveled through the cities of central and southern Italy, wiping out bandits and winning their goodwill."
As he said that, my father handed me a wooden fishing rod.
"I passed through Cisalpine Gaul on my way here and spoke with them at length. When the time comes, they will help us as well, just like the other allied cities."
"The north, the center, and the south."
I let out a faint chuckle despite myself.
"It seems the two of us ended up carving up Italy between us."
***
The two of us cast our fishing lines into the Rubicon.
The guards were standing nearby, but far enough away that they couldn't overhear our conversation.
"Borrowing money from Crassus to establish an insurance enterprise, and then inventing this Palmolive. I could understand it up to that point," father chuckled, shaking his head.
"But signal towers? And now a new papyrus? If someone had told me these things were happening in Rome a few years ago, I would have considered them insane."
"Well, reality often proves stranger than any tale."
Father wasn't wrong on that part.
I had set off a flood of changes in a very short amount of time.
But I had no time to remain idle.
Not with the brutal history of Rome looming over me, and certainly not after the warning given to me by the woman who had sent me into this age.
"You've always been a peculiar child, Lucius. Brilliant, remarkably perceptive, and far too mature for your age. You certainly didn't cause anywhere near the amount of trouble I did when I was your age."
Father continued.
"But what you've accomplished over these past few years goes far beyond anything I ever imagined."
He turned his head, looking at me with a sudden seriousness.
"I don't know what secret you're hiding from me, Lucius. But I want you to know you can tell me absolutely anything, at any time."
"..."
I maintained a heavy silence.
It was a secret. Or rather, the deepest truth I'm hiding.
If he knew I was from a distant future thousands of years away, how would he react?
Would he still see me as his son?
Or would he look at me like some kind of monster?
Seeing my hesitation, father simply smiled warmly.
"I have no intention of forcing an answer out of you, my boy. I only wished to remind you that you may always rely on your family."
"I know, father. Someday, when I'm ready, I will tell you everything."
"I only hope it will not be too late. I'm not going to live forever, you know."
Father turned his head again toward the fishing rods.
"I heard what you did with the allied cavalry. To accomplish a military feat of that scale at your age is nothing short of extraordinary. Scipio was exactly your age when he rode into battle to save his father at Ticinus. But even he wasn't commanding an entire army."
"I wasn't exactly fighting Hannibal out there. They were just bandits."
Father nodded silently.
Then, he reached into his tunic and pulled out a folded piece of parchment.
"Before we discuss anything else, there is something you need to see, Lucius."
"What is this?"
"Read it and see for yourself."
"Ah, a letter from Crassus to you."
I unrolled the parchment and began reading from the top.
By the time I reached the middle, my brow was furrowed so deeply it physically ached.
"He's proposing a double marriage alliance?"
***
"Crassus made that proposition?"
"Yes. He wants to marry you off to his son," Pompey nodded.
With a dismissive wave of his hand, the pantomime actors in the room bowed and quickly scrambled out.
"In exchange, he proposed giving his own niece to Lucius. Along with a truly enormous dowry, of course."
"I can't even begin to imagine how much he offered."
"Ten million sesterces for Lucius. And he promised me five million sesterces for your hand."
"..."
Pompeia was struck completely speechless.
Ten million, and five million.
It was a sum so vast it sounded like a cruel joke.
Furthermore, traditionally, a dowry was paid by the bride's family to the groom's.
For the groom's family to offer such a staggering fortune to secure the marriages was unheard of.
"I imagine he's trying to wedge himself between me and Caesar."
"He wants to use his son and his niece to bind our family and the Caesars to himself."
"Exactly. And he clearly believes that level of political control is well worth the cost."
"What are your thoughts on this, Father?"
"I don't know," Pompey murmured.
He lifted his wine cup, stared into it, and slowly set it back down.
"To be completely honest, the money means little to me. But that doesn't mean Crassus's proposal is not without political value. If the three of us are bound by blood and marriage, our political alliance would become far stronger."
"I suppose that's true," Pompeia replied softly.
She took a deep breath, steadying her nerves before exhaling.
"However, I have spent a great deal of time appearing publicly with Lucius. Countless people in Rome already know of ourl engagement. If I suddenly marry Crassus's son now, all Rome will say you sold your own daughter to the highest bidder."
"I cannot deny that."
Pompey raised his head to look at his daughter.
She maintained a calm, composed expression, but Pompey could easily read the quiet, seething indignation beneath the surface.
In the heavy silence that followed, he asked, "What does your heart say, Pompeia?"
"As my paterfamilias, it is your right to decide who I marry. But if you are asking me..."
Pompeia met her father's eyes without flinching.
"I cannot accept this."
***
"I cannot accept this."
"Oh?"
Father rested his chin on his hand with an amused look on his face.
"Is there any reason for that, Lucius? If we give Crassus what he wants, we'll secure a steady alliance. The houses of Pompey, Crassus, and Caesar would be perfectly intertwined."
"Perhaps. But it would give Crassus far too much leverage. He always gets exactly what he wants. If we meekly accept this, he'll only return with more demands later."
Father tapped his fingers against the armrest of his chair, saying nothing.
"It seems you've grown quite fond of Pompeia. Your mother mentioned you spent a great deal of time with her in Rome."
"..."
I kept my mouth shut.
The dowry Crassus promised for his niece was ten million sesterces.
Considering the initial seed money he loaned me was only a few tens of thousands of sesterces, this was a mind-boggling fortune.
With that kind of cash, you could outright purchase a small city.
But the dowry Crassus promised wasn't money I can just freely spend.
"If I marry his niece, her dowry effectively remains tied to her. If I ever wanted to utilize that money, I'd have to negotiate with Crassus every single time."
Marriage customs in this era of Rome were quite progressive compared to other ancient civilizations.
Just because a woman got married didn't mean her assets automatically transferred to her husband.
Noble wives managed their own finances independently, and in the event of a divorce, they took most of their dowry right back with them.
"And keeping me financially leashed is exactly what Crassus wants."
"My thoughts exactly."
Father let out a bright laugh.
Standing up, he walked over and clapped a heavy hand on my shoulder.
"I believe this is the first time you've ever stood your ground, Lucius. Until now, every move you've made has been strictly for the benefit of our family and me."
Father's eyes gleamed for a moment.
"Crassus's proposal certainly has its merits. A lot of money and a strong political alliance. But we—no, you—have no obligation to accept it."
"You mean..."
"You told me once before, didn't you? That I needed to take Pompey's hand, and eventually Crassus's and Cicero's, if I ever wanted to change Rome."
Father's gaze drifted far past the tent, looking toward the horizon where Rome lay.
"But I no longer need to beg any man for his help. And that is thanks to you alone, Lucius."
He gave my shoulder a firm squeeze.
"While I was fighting in Hispania, you accomplished the impossible here. I do not know whether it is truly a blessing from the gods, but regardless... everything has changed."
No longer need to beg for anyone's help, huh?
In the original timeline, Caesar needed the help of Pompey and Crassus to form the First Triumvirate and secure his power.
But maybe things were different now.
Had I been too fixated on the original history?
If the circumstances change, it's only natural the outcome changes as well.
"What is it that you truly desire, father?"
"I desire to change Rome," father answered instantly, without the slightest hesitation.
"I intend to tear down and rebuild this decaying Republic, which has been rotting from the inside out ever since the Punic Wars."
"But earlier, you said the Republic was nothing more than a mere word."
"And that is precisely why it can be changed."
Father pulled me to my feet.
"I will personally speak with Pompey and Crassus on this matter. You don't have to worry anymore."
As he said that, his face lit up with excitement I hadn't seen in a long time.
"It's true you've pulled off miracles in Rome while I was gone, my boy. But let me remind you that your father still has much left in him."
"Having you back certainly makes matters easier."
No matter what history said about him, it was impossible for me to hate this man as my father.
"It won't be an easy negotiation though."
"The greater the hardship, the sweeter the victory. Our whole lives are one long gamble, are they not?"
"Are you seriously referring to my marriage as gambling?"
"Well, it's not 'my' marriage, is it?" father laughed heartily, stepping away.
"Now then, we should head back. The men will start getting restless if they see their commander idling like this."
I grabbed my fishing rod and turned to follow him.
Come to think of it, this was the first time I had ever been inside a true Roman legionary camp.
Sure, I had commanded the allied cavalry, but they were little more than a hastily assembled force.
They weren't a hardened, professional Roman legion.
I should take this opportunity to carefully observe how a true Roman army functioned.
"Actually, there were a few things I wanted to ask you about..."
Just as I stepped forward, I heard a heavy footstep behind me.
I whirled around and saw my father swaying unsteadily.
"Father?"
Instead of answering, father collapsed hard into the dirt.
Dammit. What the hell...
I instantly dropped my rod and scrambled toward him.
Father was thrashing on the ground, his whole body seized by violent convulsions.
Foam began to bubble at the corners of his mouth, and his pupils had completely lost focus, rolling back into his head.
"What happened?! Imperator!"
The guards rushed over in a panic, screaming for a doctor.
Instead of answering, I waved my hand at them.
"Give me your leather strap!"
"Sir?!"
"NOW!"
Snatching the thick leather strap from the bewildered guard, I jammed it into father's mouth, wedging it between his teeth as if it were a bit.
If I did not do something at once, he might badly injure his tongue.
I grabbed father's trembling hand, gripping it as tightly as I could.
"Don't worry, Father. I'm right here."