SO...I, COMMODUS, MADE AMERICA GREAT!

Chapter 5. Opening Ceremonies...no torch

It was supposed to be, per the Encyclopedia, the largest city on this continent, although these natives truly had no name for "America." It was unified only by the trade network, and regional Councils of several nations such as this one. No sense of a single nation yet existed. Another piece of the mystery of de la Mancha.

  But the multiple dock facilities on the west bank of the river certainly were impressive. There were four piers extending about one hundred yards into the river's wide currents, made swifter by the confluence of waters from the two larger additional rivers upstream just a few miles. These wood structures appeared as well built as any along the Tiber, without use of stone and the volcanic pumice concrete Romans had perfected centuries ago.

 Oddly, or at the plan of the natives, all docks were empty of craft. Per our plan, I directed the Argo to be first at the south pier, while two of the others lodged into the next ones north, leaving the final two anchored midstream. The pre-agreed shore party was waiting on deck when I came out of my cabin.

  All the natives, and Morenus and his daughter too, gasped at my new costume. Again I had chosen not to display any armor or weapons, to avoid making these objects for their avarice. But to be impressive? Oh, yes. Atop my head I wore the Heracles lion head, skin draped down over my shoulders. A bright purple caftan enveloped me from there to my ankles, the color being my privilege as the Emperor's son. Its embroidery of a vertical red stripe on the right side stood out and glittered in the sunlight, crafted from the shiny bits of seashells strung onto black threads that snaked down the stripe. This was at least as showy as any clothing I had yet seen, even the Chief's; and the shells resembled their wampum belts as well, but told no history of course.

To him I said through Morenus, "I ask that all of you precede me to meet the Paramount Chief, let him know I will follow, alone, shortly."

 This would gain the expected reaction. Wumpmug started to speak, then again accepted his new role as liaison, and that this was to his own advantage, and simply turned around to start down the gangway onto the pier. The others hurried after, including Hocapontus, after giving me a glance of question that I returned with a firm nod.

While waiting the several minutes required, I took up my "magic" staff. High as my head, it ended in a ball of roots, since it was in fact an uprooted sapling that I had brought here from Rome. Always prepared...as any fine warrior must be. Fixed within this net of roots was an irregular crystal, whose actual composition I could not recall. But it was coated with a powder of "zinc-sulfide" as per–yet again–the Ambassador's instruction. When exposed to direct sunlight this coated rock would soon start to glow with a warm, never hot, fire...but in the dark this could be seen clearly for almost an hour.

  "Phosphorescence" this was called, although de la Mancha said he called it the "Gandolf Effect" for some reason. Could not fail to impress–as it had me the first time de la Mancha had exhibited it at one of the Emperor's farewell feasts. However, the crystal must be kept covered from the air after exposure to light, or the glow would fade quickly. So again I pulled off the oiled leather pouch from the top, left it open to the bright morning sun for about five minutes, then recovered it and tied off the pouch tightly.

Time to march to glory! Indeed, the announcement by my predecessors of my coming had the effect of clearing the way completely of natives. I had been told it was almost three hundred yards from the river to the center of this town. Supposed it could be called that. First there were rows of many single-story huts again of wood and mud with roofs of thatch. Then some two-story buildings began, obviously not simply homes but meant for commercial works, crafts and more practical matters. The usual smells of humans in close quarters, including their wastes, reminded me of Rome itself–prior to the welcome alterations of its sewer system.