in Writing

Brutus

Another creative writing piece, this one is freshly typed, no editing, etcetera. Leave suggestions if you want, I may not listen to them (since this won’t be graded harshly).


Their eyes fell on him like the daggers they withdrew from hidden folds of their tunics. The Liberators waited for Caesar to turn his back, delivering a long oration he d prepared the night before. Silently, suspiciously, their glances went from one senator to the next, deciding that if any of them dared interfere with their judgment, he d be the next to fall under their blades. They d met the night before and discussed their plans.

It must be tomorrow, on the Ides. The senate has not convened for months, so an opportunity may not arise again for some time. We will all be together, at Pompey s Theater. There is strength in numbers my brothers, and we will need all of our fraternal strength to free Rome, said Cassius.

He speaks the truth, brothers. Too long have we stayed our hands. We are his pets, so often do we bow and mew at his heels. I refuse that role. He is no god, this Caesar. He is a despot who spits on the Roman ideal of democracy. He is a mere demagogue, playing off the fickle, unwashed masses, delivered Trebonius.

Now, now, brothers. Stay the sharpest tongues lest we forget the glory he has brought Rome. He has increased our borders two-fold. Rome has not seen a general such as him since Romulus, said Brutus. He was of noble height and breadth, seven and a half heads tall with a chest four to five heads wide. His hands were rough and calloused soldier s hands. And his eyes, oh his eyes gleamed like steel unsheathed, yet they were deep as philosophy.

How likely for his heir to come to his defense! You, who we found suckling his fortune, jeered Junius. He picked his teeth with a glimmering knife, spitting crumbs on the stone floor.

Careful brother, Brutus said the word with sardonic disgust. I support this endeavor with all my will and resolve, he said more seriously. I swear by the pits of Tartarus, if you question my loyalty to the cause, your throat will gurgle as your vitality drains away.

Junius retreated at this threat. Brutus was by far the better legionary. He bowed apologetically, making a vow to Aries that he would slay Brutus before the next moon.

They continued to discuss the plans for several hours that night. Brutus left the house, grasping each of his brothers. He walked out into the street, and into the side alley. Making his way back home, he kept in the shadows and back streets. Paupers laid against hovels in this impoverished area. I am doing this for all of you, he whispered to the night. He hoped the west wind would carry his words to the Roman populace, sleeping and dreaming in the night. When he had finally reached his door, miles from where he began, he looked at the silver moon. It looked to his eyes like the glistening blade of an executioner s axe.

Now, quickly, while his back was turned, the Liberators overtook him. Caesar whirled at the sound of mutiny, just as a blade slid into his abdomen. He lurched at the pain and his eyes lost focus. Malicious, base, vile conspirators! he screamed. More men fell on him with stabs and slices. He collapsed onto the floor in a tangled mess of bloody robes. Looking at the villains, he whispered their names, as if to curse their existence, You dare betray Caesar A hex on you all! Cassius. Trebonius. Junius. Then he saw the last. You too, Brutus, my son! the last name he said warmly but shocked. He couldn t understand how Brutus could have done this to him, who he treated like his own flesh. He closed his eyes and condemned them all to torment in the lowest circles of hell.

Farewell, father, Brutus whispered. He would not relent now, despite Caesar s condemnation. It is for the good of Rome. He walked away from the limp corpse, cleansing the blood from his saber.