09-06-2015, 09:48 AM
Rising to take the seat that was offered, Michael listened laconically to the assessment of the strangers.
None of them seemed to have a grasp of military strategy. Koloman was enthusiastic, attracted to the charisma of Jacques and the justice of his cause.
The one that had asked him to join along with his friend were not even soldiers. The words were echoed by millions who read the news but meant little. An echo of an echo that rarely touched on the truth.
Then there was John. He knew enough to speak with some wisdom, but his words were typical of a soldier cynic. Caution was a good trait, an even better one to keep yourself alive, but cynical pessimism did not make a commander.
He found himself speaking. "To the bold go the spoils. The greatest Empire the world has seen would not have been born had Caesar been too meek to cross the Rubicon. 'The die is cast,' so to speak. Jacques Danjou is not a peacemaker, he takes the path of a conqueror and a tyrant. Tyrant of course has negative connotations, but a tyrant is neither inherently good nor evil. None have tamed Africa before because politics have prevented them. Greed or apathy have allowed the likes of Wallace-Johnson to flourish."
He realised what he was doing. Speaking as if he as leading the Legion. Michael shook his head. "There is no room for mercy in Africa. It may be for the greater good, but to save one, they must kill ten others. This isn't a war of skill or tactics, it will be decided by how far Danjou is willing to go."
Even were he to become another Alexander or Caesar, both suffered the same fate.
It reminded him of the words of Plutarch.
Edited by Michael Vellas, Sep 6 2015, 09:49 AM.
None of them seemed to have a grasp of military strategy. Koloman was enthusiastic, attracted to the charisma of Jacques and the justice of his cause.
The one that had asked him to join along with his friend were not even soldiers. The words were echoed by millions who read the news but meant little. An echo of an echo that rarely touched on the truth.
Then there was John. He knew enough to speak with some wisdom, but his words were typical of a soldier cynic. Caution was a good trait, an even better one to keep yourself alive, but cynical pessimism did not make a commander.
He found himself speaking. "To the bold go the spoils. The greatest Empire the world has seen would not have been born had Caesar been too meek to cross the Rubicon. 'The die is cast,' so to speak. Jacques Danjou is not a peacemaker, he takes the path of a conqueror and a tyrant. Tyrant of course has negative connotations, but a tyrant is neither inherently good nor evil. None have tamed Africa before because politics have prevented them. Greed or apathy have allowed the likes of Wallace-Johnson to flourish."
He realised what he was doing. Speaking as if he as leading the Legion. Michael shook his head. "There is no room for mercy in Africa. It may be for the greater good, but to save one, they must kill ten others. This isn't a war of skill or tactics, it will be decided by how far Danjou is willing to go."
Even were he to become another Alexander or Caesar, both suffered the same fate.
It reminded him of the words of Plutarch.
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At the time of his death Caesar was fully fifty-six years old, but he had survived Pompey not much more than four years, while of the power and dominion which he had sought all his life at so great risks, and barely achieved at last, of this he had reaped no fruit but the name of it only, and a glory which had awakened envy on the part of his fellow citizens.
Edited by Michael Vellas, Sep 6 2015, 09:49 AM.
"She saw a flaring halo around his head, radiant in gold and blue. It shouted of glory and power to come"
"No matter how fast light travels, it finds the darkness has always got there first, and is waiting for it."