Quintus scowled and nodded. “Go on.”

“After I stood on the Rostra, we ascended the Capitoline. There we observed a Dorso family tradition-retracing the route taken by my great-grandfather, Gaius Fabius Dorso, when he walked from the Capitoline to the Quirinal, defying the Gauls. At the Altar of Quirinus, an augur took the auspices. A single hawk was seen flying from left to right. The augur declared it a favorable omen.”

“Favorable, indeed! The hawk will watch after you in battle. And how does it feel, young man, to be wearing a toga?”

“It feels very good, cousin Quintus.” In fact, the woolen garment was heavier and hotter than Kaeso had expected.

Quintus nodded. He thought the toga looked rather incongruous on young Kaeso, serving only to emphasize his boyish good looks-his blond curls and blushing, beardless cheeks, his full red lips and bright blue eyes. Aloud, Quintus merely said, “You are a man, now. Congratulations.”

“Thank you, cousin Quintus.” Kaeso forced a smile. Of all the day’s events, this visit might the most important of all; in honor of his ascent to manhood, he had been invited to dine, alone, with the most eminent of all the Fabii, the leading member of the many branches of the family, the great statesman and general Quintus Fabius. Nervous and tired, but determined to make a good show of himself, Kaeso sat stiffly in his backless chair and met his cousin’s steely gaze.

“Well, then, let us retire to the dining room,” said Quintus. “You and I shall eat and drink like two men of the world, and talk about your future.”

In fact, the discussion was almost entirely about the past. Over various delicacies-pork liver with celery in a wine sauce, tripe stewed with cinnamon and nutmeg, mutton in fennel cream-Quintus imparted bits of family history. Kaeso had heard almost all of these tales before, but never as told by the great Quintus. Kaeso’s great-grandfather had still been alive when Quintus was young; Quintus had met the illustrious Dorso on several occasions, and had heard the tale of the famous walk from the man himself.

Quintus also related the most famous and tragic exploit of the Fabii, their great sacrifice during a war against Veii, when the family raised a whole army from its own ranks, only to see all but one killed in a terrible ambush. “Out of three hundred and seven warriors, that young man alone survived to carry on the family name,” said Quintus. “Like a forest of noble trees destroyed by fire, from a single seedling the family regenerated itself-proof of the gods’ determination that the Fabii should play a great role in Roma’s history.”

Quintus was no less shy about trumpeting his own accomplishments. Early in his career, as Master of the Horse to the dictator Lucius Papirius Cursor, he had engaged in battle with the Samnites against the dictator’s express orders. Though he won a resounding victory, he had faced death for his disobedience.

“There I stood in the Forum, with my father on his knees before Papirius, pleading for my life. Only a great outcry from the Senate and the people stayed the dictator from ordering his lictors to execute me on the spot with their rods and axes. Though I was stripped of my office, I kept my head-barely! But reversals of fortune can be swift. Just three years later, I became one of the youngest men ever to be elected consul. I soundly defeated the Samnites once again, and was awarded a great triumph. The very next year, the consuls who succeeded me handed the Samnites one of their greatest victories over us. For better or worse, I was not present at the disaster of the Caudine Forks. I suppose you know the shameful story?”

Kaeso quickly lowered the olive that was on its way to his mouth. “Yes, cousin. A Roman army under the consuls Titus Veturius Calvinus and Spurius Postumius, seeking a shortcut, passed through a narrow defile into a gorge that narrowed even more at its far end. When they reached the second narrows, the army found that the passage had been completely blocked with felled trees and other debris. They hastened back to the entrance, only to discovered that it, too, had been made impassable by the enemy. These narrow defiles were the Caudine Forks, between which the whole army was helplessly trapped. Days passed. Rather than allow the men to starve, or attempt an impossible escape that would have resulted in a complete massacre, the consuls submitted to the terms of their Samnite captors.”

“And what did those terms include?” said Quintus. “Go ahead, young man, tell me what you’ve been taught.”

“The Romans were made to lay down their arms and their armor, and to strip off every garment. Naked, they were made to exit through the defile passing under a yoke, as a symbol of their subjugation to the enemy. Even the consuls were forced to do this. The Samnites jeered and laughed at them, and brandished their swords in the Romans’ faces. The soldiers returned home alive but in disgrace. It was a very dark day for Roma.”

“The darkest since the coming of the Gauls!” declared Quintus. “But rather than pretend it never happened, we must acknowledge it, and by perceiving the mistake which the consuls made-failing to scout the path ahead of them-we will make sure that such a thing never happens again. Meanwhile, the war with the Samnites continues, but there can be no doubt as to the eventual outcome. Only by conquest can we continue to prosper. Only conquest can make us secure! It is the duty of every Roman to raise his sword and lay down his life, if he must, to fulfill Roma’s destiny: the domination of all Italy, and after that, expansion to the north, where we shall one day revenge ourselves upon the Gauls and make sure they never menace us again. Will you do your duty to Roma, young man?”

Kaeso took a deep breath. “I should very much like to kill a few Samnites, if I’m able. And perhaps a few Gauls, as well.”

For the first time, Quintus smiled. “Good for you, young man!” His scowl returned as he began to expound on politics. As patricians, he asserted, it was incumbent on the Fabii to assert their hereditary privileges at all times, and to protect those privileges against any further encroachment by the plebeians.

“To be sure, there are some plebeians worthy of attaining high office. It is to Roma’s benefit that the most ambitious and capable of the plebeians have risen to join the ranks of the nobility, intermarrying with us and ruling the city alongside us. Roma rewards merit. The rabble, foreigners, even freed slaves are given a chance to work their way up the ladder, although there are plenty of barriers to slow their advance, which is as it should be!

Democracy as practiced by some of the Greek colonies in southern Italy-giving every man an equal say-has been kept out of Roma, thank the gods! Here, republican principles reign, by which I mean the freedom of the noble elite to compete equally and openly for political honors.”

He leaned back on his couch and ceased his discourse for a few moments to enjoy a plate of sauteed carrots and parsnips. “But I’ve strayed from the subject of family history, a more suitable topic for your toga day. The origin of the Fabii is shrouded in mystery, of course, as are all matters that stretch back to a time before writing was introduced among the Romans. However, our best authorities believe that first Roman families were descended from the gods.”

“My friend Marcus Julius claims that his family is descended from Venus,” said Kaeso.

“Indeed,” said Quintus, raising an eyebrow. “That might explain why the Julii make better lovers than fighters. Our pedigree is a bit more heroic. According to family historians, the very first Fabius was the child of Hercules and a wood nymph, born on the banks of the Tiber at the dawn of time. Thus the blood of Hercules flows in the veins of the Fabii even now.” Quintus begrudged Kaeso a second smile, then abruptly frowned and fell silent.