Pompeo Dominatus was the third son of the Dominatus family. He was currently in Rome, finalizing his preparations to depart for Ariminum by the end of the year.
As one of the mightiest sons of the Dominatus house, he had spent a significant part of his life immersed in military studies at the academy in Mediolanum.
After graduating with distinction, he served honorably on the Republic's borders in the years that followed, winning numerous skirmishes against the dwarves. His efforts earned him recognition from the Senate as one of the capable young officers of his generation, fully equipped to lead a cohort into battle.
This time, however, his assignment carried a political dimension. He was designated to command a cavalry unit comprising a centuria of Equites.
The Equites—patricians or wealthy merchants—were able to afford superior equipment and instruction, often training at the prestigious academies of Mediolanum. They formed the backbone of Rome's cavalry. Given that this campaign would commence on open plains, the Senate decided to bolster the cavalry of the First Legion significantly. Typically consisting of two cohorts totaling 2,000 cavalry, their numbers were to be doubled with recruits from numerous Roman households.
Leading a cavalry centuria in such a campaign was considered a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity—one that the Dominatus house had seized without hesitation.
As the cohorts and the Equites centuria sponsored by the Dominatus family departed, Pompeo marched alongside an old friend from Mariana.
Marius Fabian was a son of the secondary branch of the influential Fabian household. A merchant by trade, he had set aside his duties to serve as one of the logistical officers for the campaign.
During their journey, after exchanging news and catching up, Marius finally broached a subject that had been weighing on his mind.
"You know, Pompeo," he began with a mischievous grin, "we spent our younger years flirting with the noble ladies of Mariana, didn't we? But among all the men of high society, I think every one of us secretly desired what seemed untouchable. Even now, my wildest dreams are still about her. Lucia was truly a sight to behold."
He sighed dramatically, his voice tinged with longing.
"To think someone took her before us—ah, it crushes my heart! I'm truly envious of your brother."
Pompeo halted his horse abruptly, as if the world had stopped making sense. His friend's words struck like a thunderclap.
"W-What did you say?" he stammered, his voice tinged with disbelief.
Marius smirked, stopping his horse as well. He had expected this reaction and seemed to savor the moment. Of course, he knew the engagement was confidential—both families had handled the negotiations with utmost secrecy. Yet, thanks to his network of informants in Mariana, he had uncovered the truth.
Inside, Marius simmered with resentment. How could a mere boy like Victor win the woman he had longed for? The thought was unbearable. While he couldn't act against the engagement directly—given that the Isle of Elba was under Cinna's protection and essential to Fabian interests—he couldn't resist stirring the pot.
Feigning sympathy, Marius delivered the news with a devilish glint in his eye.
"Oh, I thought you knew—your younger brother got engaged to Lucia. I never imagined they'd keep you in the dark about it."
Pompeo's face turned crimson with fury. He knew Marius was goading him, but he couldn't contain his rage.
"Which one of those bastards dared to touch her?" he growled.
Marius chuckled at Pompeo's reaction. Nonchalantly, he replied, "Why, Victor, of course. He's the only one still on the island. I'm sorry, my friend—I didn't mean to bring bad news. But it seems your brother has caught your fish."
Pompeo seethed. Childhood memories of his infatuation with Lucia flooded back. Years ago, he had even petitioned his father to propose a formal marriage alliance, only to be rejected. Now, to be outdone by his younger brother felt like both humiliation and betrayal.
Victor, who had always avoided mingling with the nobility, had been guided by Pompeo himself. Pompeo had even written letters introducing Victor to key figures in Mariana and Rome during his trials. And this was his reward?
Taking a deep breath, Pompeo regained his composure. Gripping his reins tightly, he urged his horse forward.
"I will send my regards to him," he said, his voice icy but measured. "I'm certain my family knows I'm focused on the campaign ahead. Let's move on, Marius. We have a long war to fight."
As they continued their march, Pompeo's mind churned with thoughts. He mentally composed a long letter to send to his brother, one that would demand explanations.
***
The chamber was dimly lit by a single flickering oil lamp, casting long, restless shadows on the stone walls. Victor Dominatus sat at a modest wooden desk, his eyes scanning the parchment before him. His fingers traced the edges of the letter, and though his face was still, his jaw tightened with each passing line.
[To Victor Dominatus,
My Brother, or So I Thought,
Word of your actions has reached me, and I find myself torn between disbelief and fury. The woman I held in my heart, the woman I sought to honor with a union that would bring pride to our family, now stands at your side. You, the brother I guided, supported, and shielded, have taken what was never yours to claim.
Do you think this deed will go unnoticed? Do you believe the bonds of blood grant you immunity from consequence? They do not. What you have done is a betrayal, not only of me but of the honor of our house.
I have fought for our family name, shed blood on the borders of this republic, and endured hardships so that our name would command respect. Yet, while I march to defend Rome's glory, you conspire in shadows to satisfy your ambitions. This is not the behavior of a brother. It is the act of a thief cloaked in kinship.
Let me be clear, Victor: I will not allow this insult to stand unchallenged. Whether it is through words or steel, we will have our reckoning. Rome itself teaches us that betrayal within is a greater threat than enemies without. And you, Victor, have become a threat to both my honor and the unity of our family.
Even now, there remains a way to salvage this. Cease your ambitions. Renounce this engagement, and restore what you have wrongfully taken. If you do not, the consequences will be yours to bear.]
The words from his brother carried a weight that pressed on his chest. Fury and indignation practically leapt from the ink, and for a moment, he felt the phantom sting of Pompeo's wrath even from miles away. Yet, as Victor reached the final lines, his lips curled into a faint, sardonic smile.
[You may think yourself clever, like a fox slipping into the henhouse under the cover of night. But every fox must face the guard hound in the end. And know this, Victor: I am no mere hound—I am the protector of this family's honor, and I will not rest until the balance is restored.
Make your choice wisely, for the next steps you take will decide whether you are my brother or my adversary.
Pompeo Dominatus
Son of Rome, Defender of Honor]
He set the letter down carefully, leaning back in his chair. His eyes wandered briefly to the window, where the pale light of the moon illuminated the quiet courtyard below. The letter lay there on the desk, a silent testament to Pompeo's rage, but to Victor, it was little more than an empty threat.
With deliberate movements, Victor reached for the lamp. The flame wavered slightly as he held the edge of the letter to it. The fire caught quickly, devouring the parchment with hungry tongues of orange and red. He watched it burn, holding it until the heat forced him to drop the smoldering remains into a bronze basin on the floor.
As the ashes settled, Victor stood, brushing his hands against his tunic as if to rid himself of any lingering guilt. He turned his back to the basin, casting one last glance at the window.
- Sorry, brother.
he murmured to the silent room, his voice calm and unyielding.
- I can do nothing about that.
Without another thought, he extinguished the lamp and let the darkness envelop him.