As Septimus stepped down from the elevated wooden platform with his twenty slave women, he suddenly came to a complete stop and frowned.
The slaves also halted and looked at Septimus, somewhat confused, thinking they had angered him.
Septimus and all of his clones shared the same senses through a magical connection that was difficult to explain.
Because of this, communication among the clones was almost instantaneous, without the need to send messengers or deliver letters.
When the incident involving the death of the prefect occurred, Septimus withdrew the clones who were directing commercial caravans in order to prevent them from being intercepted.
The commercial caravans from Capua and Naples, being relatively close and within the same region, discreetly withdrew to the villa and were the first to arrive. On the other hand, the caravans from Rome and the more distant one from Sicily, in order to avoid trouble, took longer auxiliary routes toward Capua, deliberately avoiding contact with other caravans.
Septimus's intention was to prevent the caravans from being attacked by local garrisons. However, when the Sicilian caravan crossed the Strait of Messina by sea, it was viewed as suspicious by local merchants, who reported it to nearby municipal cities.
In Rome, in the year 87 B.C., municipal cities were small cities in Italy with populations ranging from 3,000 to 7,000 people. They were administered by a magistrate and a small local council called the Ordo Decurionum.
It is worth noting that these small cities either had no garrison at all or only a very small number of guards, incapable of standing up to a commercial caravan of 200 armed men.
As a result, to avoid pirate attacks, they maintained thick walls, and in the event of an enemy assault, they would form a volunteer army from within the city itself.
Ironically for Septimus, his idea of keeping a low profile attracted the attention of nearby caravans and of the municipal magistrates who governed the surrounding small cities, mistaking the clones for pirates or bandits lying in wait.
For merchants and magistrates who administered Rome's small cities, a commercial caravan of 200 men that deliberately avoided trade was far too suspicious.
Driven by suspicion, the local magistrates of the region organized a force of 500 armed men and launched a search for the caravan they believed to be bandits or pirates.
Septimus's Sicilian caravan was taken by surprise while camped near a small river.
Under the cover of night, the organized clone sentries spotted men wearing various garrison armors approaching the camp at high speed. With no time to determine who the enemy was, the clone sentries drew their gladii and confronted the attackers.
The sentries' alarm also alerted the other clones in the camp.
Combat erupted instantly between the two sides.
The battle was fierce from the very beginning. Many of the clones were armed only with gladius or pugios (Roman daggers). After all, this was merely a trading caravan, and they carried limited weapons and armor.
Although the clones were at a disadvantage in both numbers and military equipment, their combat skills, honed through individual fighting in the underground arena, helped them maintain a fragile balance against the 500 men organized by the local magistrates.
From the outset, the battle became brutally real, with the clones fighting like trapped wild beasts.
The 500 men, commanded by a Roman general who also held the title of local magistrate, were likewise shocked by the ferocity of these fighters, reinforcing their belief that they were facing bandits or pirates.
The fighting grew increasingly savage, with clones dying one by one while enemy corpses piled up. The advantage in individual combat skill was unable to change the outcome on such a chaotic battlefield, given the obvious numerical and equipment disadvantages.
After just over two hours of chaotic fighting, amid the screams and cries of the wounded, only 57 clones survived. They scattered in different directions, breaking into groups of three to five men.
The assembled soldiers from the local municipalities did not pursue the fleeing enemies. Although they had won, their losses were severe, with nearly 200 men dead and another 100 wounded.
The magistrate who commanded this suppression of supposed bandits or pirates was also astonished by how hard-fought the battle had been and by the enemy's ferocity. He concluded that these bandits or pirates were an elite force sent to cause trouble in the region.
Throughout the entire battle, Septimus remained fully focused, witnessing everything from the moment the enemies burst into the caravan camp to the eventual defeat.
For Septimus, this battle served as a small lesson. Rome was characterized by its heavy infantry, and both large and small cities maintained garrisons equipped with armor and basic military gear suitable for heavy infantry.
If Septimus wanted to achieve his goal of forming ten legions for self-preservation, he had to carefully consider how to equip them. If he paid for each legion in full, he would need to spend half a million denarii per legion just for equipment.
The total cost of forming a legion exceeded two million denarii. Thanks to his ability, Septimus only needed to spend half a million denarii to purchase military equipment.
Septimus did not have enough time to rely on commercial methods to accumulate that much money, and buying such a large quantity of military equipment would draw unnecessary attention.
The region of Campania also lacked copper mines, and even more so the iron needed to create stronger, more durable metal weapons.
Under these circumstances, Septimus could only accumulate the necessary military equipment through war and plunder.
Through constant warfare, Septimus would strengthen and arm his forces with the purpose of defending himself and attacking anyone who coveted his wealth or dared to offend him.
Septimus devised a preliminary strategy that would evolve as the realities of the battlefield changed.
First, he would lay siege to the city of Capua, using its resources to equip additional legions.
Second, he would conquer the city of Naples and, using the plundered resources, turn it into an enclave from which to seize the entire region of Campania as his own territory.
The only problem was Rome. The region of Campania was not far from Rome, and Septimus would face constant pressure, including acts of sabotage.
Septimus regarded this plan as a last resort, to be used only if his attempt to resolve matters with Rome failed.
For now, Septimus would stand firm like a rock and wait for the response of Senator Scipio Nasica.
While Septimus devised his ambitious strategy of war against Rome, far away, in a vast villa near the city of Naples, a beautiful middle-aged lady—who moments earlier had been enjoying herself with male slaves—was reading a message written on papyrus.
Her name was Cornelia Minor Scipionis, and she was a relative of the Scipio family.
As Cornelia Minor read the letter and analyzed her husband's request, she could not help but feel that he was being coerced.
The wife of the Admiral of Campania came from a superior lineage, which was the reason her husband had obtained his title as admiral of the region. Consequently, the noblewoman Cornelia Minor held more influence and authority in the marriage than her husband.
Cornelia Minor frowned as she considered her husband's request and the grave consequences he faced due to the defeat suffered in Capua.
Like her husband, Cornelia Minor believed that the incident involving the death of the prefect should be suppressed and presented as a mere personal dispute that tragically ended in an accident.
It was the only option the noblewoman Cornelia Minor could think of to avoid punishment for her husband's defeat in battle.
"Prepare the horses and the carriage. We are going to Rome," Cornelia Minor said to her slaves.
She needed to speak personally with her uncle, Senator Scipio Nasica, to seek a solution for her husband and spare him from a failure in his political career.
As a lady of Rome's upper class, she valued political status more than her husband's life. Love, after all, was a feeling that faded over the years in marriage, a reality even more evident among the Roman elite, who were accustomed to libertinism and free from moral restraints.