Ave Quintus Tullius Flaminius, Noble Dux!

I hope this letter finds you well in Illium and that your excellent health continues. I received your gift of the two hunting dogs and that pack of purebred Arabian horses. They are magnificent. The dogs are my constant companions and the horses are without a doubt beautiful. Aemilia Druscilla has taken to one of them in particular and enjoys riding her at my country home in Alba Longa.

As you know, my health is failing Quintus, and Ampelides informs me that my time is now very limited. What a funny thing death is. A man will talk of it, hear of a man dying and perhaps even spend a late night contemplating it from time to time, but never will he truly understand the sheer terror that goes into it. I have been dying for 5 years now and I must admit that I grow weary of it. I will not hide the fact that I am fearful of death. I am a Roman man who has proven himself to be courageous time and time again. It is only natural that I should fear this great transition; for it means the end to everything I have known. I share this with you, Quintus Tullius, because I think you must live in fear like this every day. You fear for the death of the nation you have built from the bits and pieces left by many foolish and lesser men. You have done admirably, Quintus Tullius. I cannot deny that. You have built a state, which upholds justice, rewards courage and encourages education.

A very Roman state.

And that is a compliment.

However, I will not lie to you and say you are not in danger. Your reports that war is brewing in Rome are quite correct. A coalition reminiscent of the Optimates in their greater days has formed for the expressed purpose of taking back what they refer to as 'the lost province'. My influence with them remains to be seen, but I cannot help but understand and perhaps even sympathize with their complaints. They saw the best men of my generation plucked from Rome’s busom. Their fathers, uncles, grandfathers. They watched as Pola betrayed his nation, his people and his class all in the name of blind ambition. They say that your nation was founded on the blood of their fathers and I cannot disagree. I am, however, a reasonable man Quintus Tullius. You know as well as I what war truly means. For we have been in battle. We have held the swords and our hands and marched through mud and snow to end the lives of other peoples. We have watched the faces of our brothers as we have taken their last breaths from them. We have sweated and toiled and we have bled. And I would not wish that for my sons, no matter what the cause. But I am an old man and I recall what it was to be a young man. And what a difference 50 years make. I shall do my best, old friend, to make these men think about what war means. Not for you Quintus Tullius. Not for Illium. But for Rome and for Rome’s children. I wish you well dear friend and will look forward to your next letter.


Best Regards,
Catulus Aemilius Albinus Uticus Princeps Senatus