Publica Section 2 Part 1
Part 1
Jacobi tapped a pen lightly on the table, pondering on his next sentence. He appreciated his surroundings and let it quicken his mind in thought. The extensive collection of literary works along the wall, the light breeze from his window and gentle wooden furniture reminded him of better days of the Publica like a distant dream. He tapped the pen again, ignoring what annoyances it caused his guest.
“It is not my intention for you to display yourself to be,” Jacobi paused again for effect, “in excess.”
Lavendi only smiled and cross her legs. She was polite and attractive but it was only a face to bury her overgrown instinctual appetites. It was distasteful to Jacobi, but he accepted the flaws for her subtle political prowess. He was old and afraid he could no longer protect his nephew from the political intrigues of the senatus. Already, the campaign to Gladius worried him. The Serpens never entered into any arrangement that earned them nothing.
“You should have waited at least a month before finding someone to satisfy your needs,” Jacobi continued. “I would not believe that Hasitus was not disappointed in this marriage.”
“I’ve been the loving wife,” Lavendi said, appearing sad for an instant but it was these false faces that Jacobi detested more. It seemed, each morn that the woman became a new person.
“What is the name of that little girl you’ve taken to bed?” Jacobi asked, tapping the pen again.
“Does it matter?” she replied.
He let out an exasperated sigh, unsure of this choice of marriage. “Very well, we can discuss this matter at another time. The Serpens fully intend to reward you with property for your husband’s future deeds. For now, they must worry about the Imperator.”
Lavendi leaned back in the chair, in a more relaxed fashion easily following the political banter. “I have heard Thracus has formed a tribune where he can place matters at the senatus’ door at will.”
“Yes, it seems Thracus is suddenly the people embodied into a single form,” Jacobi muttered angrily. The tribune was a power that only the citizens of the republic could enact. The Imperator confused himself as the Princep.
“What is it he has done now?” Lavendi asked in a light voice.
Jacobi tapped his pen to hear the metallic ring before he felt he could answer. “He has put forward an issue of taxes. Thracus wishes to place a new levy against all Navis Eurus transporting goods throughout the republic in order to fund the Publica’s fleets.”
“The Serpens will certainly detest that,” Lavendi said. “Their coffers are filled through the trade with the Rim Worlds.”
A small smile broke across Jacobi’s face as he thought of a new irony of the republic. “The Publica detests other cultures for their barbaric methods of living, yet our entire prosperity is based upon trade with these peoples. It is their exotic goods that we are interested in, even if we should think those cultures worthless.”
“Keep the barbarians at the gate but let their gold through,” Lavendi replied.
Jacobi stood up, and paced the width of his book collection. Rare works of literature sat on those shelves. Some were the original copies of works written by great scholars. Although all have since been copied over into more modern formats, Jacobi appreciated the effort and feeling that was crafted into the physical objects.
With a wrinkled hand he pulled a book from the shelf. It was a literary work of the Centurion’s Civil War. A romanticized novel of a civil war brought about by the commander of the Publica’s legions against a despotic Imperator. Corrupt curias were swept away and the senatus fled in the end, to be replaced by people chosen freely by the citizenry.
He placed the dusty tome on his desk in front of Lavendi. “It might pleasure you to read a great literary work such as this.”
Lavendi brushed the dust off the cover and glanced on the first few pages, reading quickly and skimming through a few parts. “This looks to be one of the original printed versions from centuries ago,” she said with a surprised voice.
“It is,” Jacobi replied. He watched Lavendi hold the book with gentle hands. She brought it to her lap and poured over words. It looked to be genuine interest, but Jacobi could never discern between that and her many guises.
“How did the Serpens take the Imperator’s proposal?” she asked.
In a quick response, Jacobi said, “They lost the vote.”
This time, real confusion spread through Lavendi slipping through her voice, face and body. “The Serpens have practical control of half the senatus. Why would they let the Imperator win on such a matter? It gives him credibility for the tribune. It’s,” she stammered, “not following the bene principes.”
“It seemed that Valisus had more important issues to contend with and his supporters were thusly confused and absented from the vote. It was by a slim margin, but Thracus had his proposal approved,” Jacobi said.
“The second time, isn’t it?” Lavendi replied. “Valisus appears to be apathetic to the problems the Serpens are facing. Their control over the senatus is slipping away.”
Jacobi placed a hand on the book, “Perhaps you could seek him out, and discuss the philosophical problems permeating through the republic with him. It may be an enlightening discussion. I have heard he supports more imperialist views on society.”
“Where might he frequent?” Lavendi said, smiling lightly as she looked upward at Jacobi. “He was quite the uneventful man since I’ve seen him.”
“Perhaps some friends may know where he has gone,” Jacobi said. “I have not seen him for several days now.”
Lavendi stood from the chair, lifting the heavy book away with some effort. She turned and kissed Jacobi lightly on the cheek. “I have heard there are some great barbarian dishes in the east district markets. Meals even snakes would eat.”
Jacobi nodded and showed her to the door. He waited patiently for her to step out of view before closing his door. With his aging legs, he paced back to his desk and poured a drink of fine wine. The old senator only took small sips, savouring the flavour. It was one of his last bottles of wine from the vineyards of Penser.
Jacobi tapped a pen lightly on the table, pondering on his next sentence. He appreciated his surroundings and let it quicken his mind in thought. The extensive collection of literary works along the wall, the light breeze from his window and gentle wooden furniture reminded him of better days of the Publica like a distant dream. He tapped the pen again, ignoring what annoyances it caused his guest.
“It is not my intention for you to display yourself to be,” Jacobi paused again for effect, “in excess.”
Lavendi only smiled and cross her legs. She was polite and attractive but it was only a face to bury her overgrown instinctual appetites. It was distasteful to Jacobi, but he accepted the flaws for her subtle political prowess. He was old and afraid he could no longer protect his nephew from the political intrigues of the senatus. Already, the campaign to Gladius worried him. The Serpens never entered into any arrangement that earned them nothing.
“You should have waited at least a month before finding someone to satisfy your needs,” Jacobi continued. “I would not believe that Hasitus was not disappointed in this marriage.”
“I’ve been the loving wife,” Lavendi said, appearing sad for an instant but it was these false faces that Jacobi detested more. It seemed, each morn that the woman became a new person.
“What is the name of that little girl you’ve taken to bed?” Jacobi asked, tapping the pen again.
“Does it matter?” she replied.
He let out an exasperated sigh, unsure of this choice of marriage. “Very well, we can discuss this matter at another time. The Serpens fully intend to reward you with property for your husband’s future deeds. For now, they must worry about the Imperator.”
Lavendi leaned back in the chair, in a more relaxed fashion easily following the political banter. “I have heard Thracus has formed a tribune where he can place matters at the senatus’ door at will.”
“Yes, it seems Thracus is suddenly the people embodied into a single form,” Jacobi muttered angrily. The tribune was a power that only the citizens of the republic could enact. The Imperator confused himself as the Princep.
“What is it he has done now?” Lavendi asked in a light voice.
Jacobi tapped his pen to hear the metallic ring before he felt he could answer. “He has put forward an issue of taxes. Thracus wishes to place a new levy against all Navis Eurus transporting goods throughout the republic in order to fund the Publica’s fleets.”
“The Serpens will certainly detest that,” Lavendi said. “Their coffers are filled through the trade with the Rim Worlds.”
A small smile broke across Jacobi’s face as he thought of a new irony of the republic. “The Publica detests other cultures for their barbaric methods of living, yet our entire prosperity is based upon trade with these peoples. It is their exotic goods that we are interested in, even if we should think those cultures worthless.”
“Keep the barbarians at the gate but let their gold through,” Lavendi replied.
Jacobi stood up, and paced the width of his book collection. Rare works of literature sat on those shelves. Some were the original copies of works written by great scholars. Although all have since been copied over into more modern formats, Jacobi appreciated the effort and feeling that was crafted into the physical objects.
With a wrinkled hand he pulled a book from the shelf. It was a literary work of the Centurion’s Civil War. A romanticized novel of a civil war brought about by the commander of the Publica’s legions against a despotic Imperator. Corrupt curias were swept away and the senatus fled in the end, to be replaced by people chosen freely by the citizenry.
He placed the dusty tome on his desk in front of Lavendi. “It might pleasure you to read a great literary work such as this.”
Lavendi brushed the dust off the cover and glanced on the first few pages, reading quickly and skimming through a few parts. “This looks to be one of the original printed versions from centuries ago,” she said with a surprised voice.
“It is,” Jacobi replied. He watched Lavendi hold the book with gentle hands. She brought it to her lap and poured over words. It looked to be genuine interest, but Jacobi could never discern between that and her many guises.
“How did the Serpens take the Imperator’s proposal?” she asked.
In a quick response, Jacobi said, “They lost the vote.”
This time, real confusion spread through Lavendi slipping through her voice, face and body. “The Serpens have practical control of half the senatus. Why would they let the Imperator win on such a matter? It gives him credibility for the tribune. It’s,” she stammered, “not following the bene principes.”
“It seemed that Valisus had more important issues to contend with and his supporters were thusly confused and absented from the vote. It was by a slim margin, but Thracus had his proposal approved,” Jacobi said.
“The second time, isn’t it?” Lavendi replied. “Valisus appears to be apathetic to the problems the Serpens are facing. Their control over the senatus is slipping away.”
Jacobi placed a hand on the book, “Perhaps you could seek him out, and discuss the philosophical problems permeating through the republic with him. It may be an enlightening discussion. I have heard he supports more imperialist views on society.”
“Where might he frequent?” Lavendi said, smiling lightly as she looked upward at Jacobi. “He was quite the uneventful man since I’ve seen him.”
“Perhaps some friends may know where he has gone,” Jacobi said. “I have not seen him for several days now.”
Lavendi stood from the chair, lifting the heavy book away with some effort. She turned and kissed Jacobi lightly on the cheek. “I have heard there are some great barbarian dishes in the east district markets. Meals even snakes would eat.”
Jacobi nodded and showed her to the door. He waited patiently for her to step out of view before closing his door. With his aging legs, he paced back to his desk and poured a drink of fine wine. The old senator only took small sips, savouring the flavour. It was one of his last bottles of wine from the vineyards of Penser.
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