99 AC / 54 HA
Octavian
"Hear me, Senate and the People of Rome! Would it not be appropriate to say that Senator Argus' motion for peace goes against the very foundations of the Imperium?"
Senator Cato stood at the center of the floor, his voice booming into the vaulted ceiling. "We are a proud people. A hungry people. The Destined Ones! We are descended from Sarnor, but we are not chained to its fate. The Sarnori culture was devastated by the Dothraki. The once elegant and flourishing cities of the Tall Men were reduced to rubble and renamed by filthy Dothraki traditions. Gornath became Leqse, the City of Rats. Kasath became Vojjor Samvi, the Broken Gods. And Sarnath, our once renowned capital, was reduced to Khewo, the City of Worms! Tell me, is there any greater humiliation than this desecration?"
Cato delivered the crescendo perfectly, met by the thumping of feet and hands against the wooden benches of the Senate, accompanied by furious, echoing shouts of 'No!' and 'Never!'
He truly had a gift for riling up a crowd.
"Just so," Cato continued, pacing the floor. "Now, we are Rome: restored, reestablished, and robust. Old Sarnor followed the tradition of seeking friendship with foes in order to survive. It worked with the Valyrians, the Rhoynar, and the Ghiscari before them. But the tradition of bending and bowing before kingdoms mightier than them did not save their skin when the Dothraki scourge came. For a hundred years, Sarnor was pillaged, raped, and set alight. Our people cried tears of blood in that Century of Blood, calling out to our gods and saviors. Yet none heeded the call."
Cato paused, letting the heavy, suffocating silence settle into the crowd.
"Then He came," Cato's voice dropped to a reverent whisper before rising into a thunderous roar. "With no army at his back! He listened, He saw, and He cared! When our old gods abandoned us, He did not! He taught our people to stand on our own two feet, to struggle, to face hardship, and in that hardship, forge ourselves into the Destined! He brought us the Light of God, the One True God! He brought us VENGEANCE AGAINST THE HEATHENS!"
Many of the younger Senators leapt to their feet, riled into an absolute frenzy, while the older veterans offered knowing, satisfied smiles. Up in the viewing galleries, several observers had fallen to their knees at his words, hands clasped in prayer.
"His Mercy, His Grace is the reason we stand today as Rome. He is our Deliverer, our Salvation. Deus."
Cato spoke the final title with absolute reverence. He swiped his hand down from the nape of his neck to his chest, then drew a swift circle in the air over his chest—the sign of the Cult of the One.
The others instantly mirrored the gesture, their voices merging into a perfectly synchronized, echoing chant.
"AMEN."
I sat quietly upon my throne, forever marvelling at the sheer, fanatic reverence that could be invoked in an entire populace simply by chanting my father's name.
Cato, seeing the silent, reverent gaze of the crowd, pressed his advantage. "Is it not blasphemy, then, to go against His wishes? When these heathens of Qohor disrespected Rome, its people, its institutions, and the very Church of the One and His Son? Qohor may have been a begrudging ally to us once, but it has become a festering thorn in the side of the Imperium—one that will rot us if not excised."
He turned on his heel, pointing an accusing finger directly at Argus. "Just like the Dothraki of old, the Qohorik have started to extort us for riches not their own! The high tariffs for trade passage into Western Essos! The exorbitant sums of gold they demand simply to allow us to chop wood from the Qohorik Forest! And above it all, the blatant heresy and blasphemy they commit, sullying Deus' name to propagate their own pagan religion!"
Cato struck his own chest. "For if nothing else, this war is for the Martyred Fifty! The pious and humble priests and priestesses of the Church who only wished to reside in Qohor before continuing their pilgrimage to Pentos. Yet these heathens welcomed them into their city, and while our holy brothers and sisters slept, they murdered them as sacrifices to their vile, horned god!"
A loud, violent rumbling of dissent shook the chamber. I could see the face of Senator Argus and his cohorts pale, contorting in genuine fear at the sheer, unbridled fury on display.
"Argus will have you believe that the lives of our fallen can be weighed in whatever sum of gold Qohor is now willing to pay us to let them be!" Cato shouted, pacing like a caged tiger. "That their cruelty is justified so that the living do not suffer this war and a minor shortage of trade! Is this how we repay our fallen? With such pathetic apathy? Are we not repeating the mistakes of the Sarnori by bowing to the whims of oppressors? HAVE WE LEARNED NOTHING FROM THE CENTURY OF BLOOD?"
"Let them burn!" the Senators roared back. "For the Fallen!"
"Then I ask you, good people of Rome: do not stop the Sword of Rome from falling on these heathens, for they deserve it just as the Dothraki did! Deus purged them from these lands during the Exodus, and now He will annihilate this scourge called Qohor. I thank you for your patience."