“Yes, Lord Dictator! We will definitely reach Rome tomorrow night!” Quintus and Licinius immediately stood up and pledged.
“After reaching the outskirt of Rome, you need to understand the situation first and not attack recklessly. Then put pressure on the Theonian army so they won't dare attack the city with all their strength…” Camillus patiently warned his men and then said deeply, “I will do my best to lead the army to arrive the night after tomorrow to join you and then fight the Theonians to the death!”
The unease when the generals in the command tent heard the news turned into excitement after hearing Camillus' words…
. . . . . . . . . . . . .
Everything was silent in the dark night, with most Romans inside the city and the Theonian soldiers outside falling asleep. But outside the northeast city wall of Rome, hundreds of soldiers quietly emerged from the camp of Theonia's First Legion.
All of them were dressed in black chiton, with black fabrics wrapped around their heads, leather shields and short swords tightly fastened to their backs, and a small bag of beef jerky tied around their waist. They marched silently to the southwest on this night, where one couldn't even see their fingers, and crossed the open Campus Martius.
Campus Martius* was formerly a vast wetland caused by the long-term flooding of the Tiber. After Servius, the sixth king of Rome, drained and filled this wetland, they finally obtained this enormous flat land and named it the Campus Martius. For them to use the name of Rome's god of war, it tells how they used this flat land to gather troops. Later, they also began using Campus Martius as a voting place for the citizen assembly since the city of Rome didn’t have other large open spaces to accommodate all the citizens. But after the Theonian army's arrival and the Romans' retreat into the city, the Campus Martius was left vacant as it lay beyond the northern city wall. (note: Field of Mars)
Once the group arrived at the edge of Campus Martius, they saw the towering city wall ahead, as well as the dark hill behind the wall – the hill that held an important position in the hearts of the Romans – Mons Capitolinus.
After determining their position, these people quietly followed the direction of the city wall and headed westward.
Then after a short walk, they heard the sound of rushing water and knew the Tiber was ahead.
These people immediately dispersed and searched the riverbank. Soon after, someone said quietly, “Leader, here!”
The one he called leader was none other than Izam, the senior centurion of the Mountain Reconnaissance Brigade. Izam hurriedly came over.
The spot where the soldier stood had two thick wooden pillars driven deep into the ground, protruding only halfway up a man's height. Then planks of wood were placed between the pillars, which led down to the river before breaking off midway – it was the remains of a wooden bridge.
Izam looked ahead and saw a slightly blurred outline of land less than twenty metres from the riverbank. He knew it was the island in the middle of the river, known to the Romans as Isola Tiberina. Before the arrival of the Theonian army in Rome, the Romans had evacuated the island's inhabitants and destroyed the wooden bridge on the other side of the river.
‘If the Romans hadn't evacuated the people on the island, they might have noticed our actions…’ A fleeting thought passed through Izam's mind before whispering, “Hurry up and bring the rope and tie it to this wooden pillar!”
A dozen people carried a large bundle of rope with a thickness of a spear shaft, firmly tying one end of the rope to the wooden pillar.
“Is Terentus ready?” Izam asked.
“Leader, I can't wait anymore!” A strong soldier responded with a slightly rough voice.
“Alright, I leave this to you!” Izam patted his burly chest with his fist, turned to the other soldiers, and said, “Tie him up.”
The team wrapped the other end of the rope around his waist, and instead of carrying a leather shield and short sword, he brought a grappling hook, pickaxe, iron saw and large iron pliers.
After tying the rope around his waist, the team pulled hard and felt it tighten.
Izam looked at the Messapian warrior eagerly and said, “Go! With Hades’ blessing, you will become a hero of the kingdom like Seclian!!”
Terentus then saluted solemnly.
Izam and the other members saluted back at him.
Terentus tucked a sack of inflatable lamb tripe under his arm, grasped the rope with both hands and moved slowly with his back towards the river.
The river's coldness made Terentus' skin taut, and the slippery riverbed made it difficult for him to stand upright. As he stepped into the river, he felt the strong force of the Tiber, which had seemed gentle during the day, pulling Terentus downstream. Fortunately, the rope tied around his waist secured his body. His teammates loosen their grasp of the rope little by little, allowing him to move slowly downstream…
Soon he saw that the riverbank in front of him was no longer flat but had turned into an embankment seven to eight metres high.
Terentus, who had previously observed the terrain, knew that this meant he was beside the walls of Rome.
Although he was still at the river's edge, the water had become so deep that his feet couldn't even touch the bottom. Luckily, the buoyancy of the lamb's tripe kept him afloat on the river's surface as he slowly drifted downstream. All the while, Terentus kept his eyes wide open, gazing ahead.
Not long after, he rejoiced as he saw the bridge before him, which Izam had repeatedly pointed out.
Pons Aemilius and Cloaca Maxima
. . . . . . . . . . . . .
The rope held by the Mountain Reconnaissance Brigade was stretched, but suddenly it went slack.
The members became delighted, thinking Terentus should’ve reached his goal.
Izam's expression, however, remained serious as he asked deeply, “How long did the rope stretch?”
The member responsible for measuring next to him replied, “Almost two hundred fifty metres.”
“Then he should have reached his target.” Izam was so sure because he had thoroughly questioned several former citizens of Rome, including Valerius.
. . . . . . . . . . . . .
Currently, Terentus was holding onto the bridge column closest to the embankment. Then he turned and vaguely saw a large black hole in the embankment near the bridge under the faint moonlight, about four metres above the river's surface.
Terentus became excited again, knowing he had found the famous Roman drainage system, the Cloaca Maxima, which Izam had mentioned.
Then, with one hand, he untied the pickaxe from his waist and the cloth wrapped around it while his other hand kept tugging on the rope at intervals.
Soon, the teammates who received the signal grabbed the rope firmly again.
Terentus then took the opportunity to swim vigorously to get closer to the embankment.
After a while, his teammates loosened the rope slowly, allowing the current to sweep him under the sewer outlet, which was easy to spot because it had an unpleasant smell, and the embankment had wet marks and was covered in moss.
Terentus then raised his pickaxe and struck hard, the pickaxe’s tip piercing into the crevices between the stone.
He grabbed the pickaxe with one hand and tugged on the rope with the other, signalling his teammates to tighten their hold and prevent him from getting swept.
Then he slowly untied the grappling hook from his body, grabbed its end, and threw it hard above his head.
After hearing a crisp clanging sound from above, he screamed inwardly, ‘Not good,’ then dodged as the hook fell close to him and into the river.
‘That was close!’ Terentus did not immediately pull up the grappling hook that had fallen into the riverbed. Instead, he stayed close to the stone embankment, carefully watching the movements on the bridge, fearful that the Roman patrol might have heard the noise.
But he had underestimated the Tiber's strength. Even though the water flow appeared calm and far from the rough and roaring flow that Seclian had crossed on the Crati River, the heavy sound of the river hitting the bridge pillars and embankment over the years had been enough to drown out any faint sound that came from him.
Hearing no movement on the bridge or the shore after a while, Terentus threw out the grappling hook again. First, he heard a smaller clang, followed by a low and muffled thud.
‘Great, the grappling hook didn't fall!’ Terentus exclaimed with excitement as he reached out and tugged on the rope. Seeing that it was taut, he knew he had firmly secured the hook.
He pulled the pickaxe and hung it back on his waist, then grabbed the grappling hook with both hands and slowly climbed upwards. Since this section of the embankment is where the sewage discharged from the sewer, it was so slippery that Terentus slipped and slammed his body against it several times, but he held back from making a sound.
Finally, he crawled to the sewer outlet and grabbed the iron railings with both hands.
The Cloaca Maxima was originally an open-air canal dug by the Romans to drain the marshes on the lowlands between the hills. The last Roman king, Tarquinius, was the one to order the project to be built, with its initial starting position in the Roman square next to the Senate.
But as the city of Rome improved and the population grew, it was no longer necessary to drain the marshes. However, the disposal of human waste has become a public concern. So each household began to dig a gutter in front of their house and connect it to the main canal, which carried the various types of waste each household produced into the Tiber daily. Over time, the number and length of the channels spread throughout the city of Rome increased and became extremely complex.
Since the constant discharge of dirty water, waste, faeces, urine and even rubbish of all kinds into the canals by the Romans often led to blockages, stench and occasional outbreaks of epidemics, a senator named Maximus proposed to create a new department specialised in sending officials from the city-state to manage the channels in the city of Rome.
The proposal was unanimously approved. So the Senate decided to dig the canals deeper and wider, laying stone slabs and scraping them regularly… From then on, the canals have since become sewers, with the Romans also creating a god for this complex sewage system – the goddess Cloacina.
The sewer's outlet was nearly circular and as big as a person, with iron railings firmly secured into the embankment, with each bar as thick as an adult's finger. The railings were obviously old and rusty, particularly on the other side, where the daily sewage discharge corroded it and now had uneven thickness.
