EDGAR RICE BURROUGHS
Rome has reached the descendants of Sanguinarius and his cohort.”
Von Harben figured rapidly, searching his memory for the historical dates and data of ancient history that were as fresh in his mind as those of his own day, “The sixth day before the calends of February,” he repeated; “that would be the twenty-seventh day of January in the 848th year of the city—why, January twenty-seventh, A.D.98 is the date of Nerva’s death,” he said.
“Ah, if Sanguinarius had but known,” said Validus, “but Aegyptus is a long way from Rome and Sanguinarius was far to the south up the Nilus before word could have reached his post by ancient Thebae that his enemy was dead. And who became Emperor after Nerva? Do you know that?”
“Trajan,” replied von Harben.
“Why do you, a barbarian, know so much concerning the history of Rome?” asked the Emperor.
“I am a student of such things,” replied von Harben. “It has been my ambition to become an authority on the subject.”
“Could you write down these happenings since the death of Nerva?”
“I could put down all that I could recall, or all that I have read,” said von Harben, “but it would take a long time.”
“You shall do it,” said Validus, “and you shall have the time.”
“But I had not planned remaining in your country,” dissented von Harben.
“You shall remain,” said Validus. “You shall also write a history of the reign of Validus Augustus, Emperor of the East.”
“But—” interjected von Harben.
“Enough!” snapped Validus. “I am Caesar. It is a command.”
Von Harben shrugged and smiled. Rome and the Caesars, he realized, had never seemed other than musty parchment and weather-worn inscriptions cut in crumbling stone, until now.
Here, indeed was a real Caesar. What matter it that his
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