Dressed in fragrant laurel, he was a victor against Barbarians from the North. General Lucius Sulla had once again Rome before his feet. This was another day a triumph, a day to be benevolent, a day of smile and orgies; tomorrow there would be trials: tomorrow there were traitors to be killed and maimed.
The Auriga was a young boy with blond hair, a captured prince of the barbarians, and though he knew his duty well, he hesitated before daring to whisper:
Memento Mori, memento mori, General
General Sulla grinned and tousled the boy’s hair.
You too, my prince.
I have always dreamt about the habit of the triumphants of Rome having a slave whispering a remainder that they also would die. General Sulla was one of the really big generals of Rome and I imagine that also he would go through Rome in triumph, and I have always guessed that there would be those that were less happy when he returned than others.
Friday Fictioneers are blogging to the same picture each week in 100 words. We are led by general Rochelle Wisoff-Fields and often we reach 100 contributions. Check it out.
May 20, 2015