Lawmakers duel with wit, logic and words while the war machine duels with tools of the army .Laws made or repealed as fearless scions fight for aspirations of a greater state. To safeguard the abundance of far flung regions brought for the enjoyment of the homeland. Have the names of conquerors venerated by the conquered people. Have kings, queens and chieftains of unknown lands pay tribute to the imperial standard. FIFTH MORSEL Two friends. They talk of things past, of bets against each other. They laud things, condemn a few and lampoon absurdities. They try things out , chalk up mutual experiences .Argue in good humour. They are both the core of their world. All else backdrops. There are friendships which rival or surpass the closeness of blood relations. Other lives about them are ambience to their drama of life. All that the world holds enrich their learning. They have their own company to increase their happiness. They help themselves and with relish exhaust the time granted. SIXTH MORSEL Morning recedes. Noon emerges. Up on the bridge ,the cobbled passage below, the sun nigh. Breeze blows mildly. Dries noon swelter dry. A column on the march .At the outskirts of the garrison town, clatter of horses, armed men of war and metal are accustomed sounds , familiar sights. Javelins high , tips glinting. Clear without scarlet stains of battle or rust of war. Chins up. Feet in perfect stride. Sturdy steps in unison. Bouncing blades , sheathed in their scabbards. Jangling armour as leather soles stamp the stone tiled road. Neighing mounts , tasselled reins, governed by their masters, they gallop obediently. Shields glint. Their helmets of war inject ferocity to their visages. Meridian peaks. Morn recedes. The proud standard borne by its bearer. Beast?s paws knotted at his chest. Beast?s maw agape from the top of his helmet till rear curvature of his neck. Fangs in line with temples. His cohorts , the horn blowers ride nearby. The visibility and density of dyed tufts discern common soldier from centurion, centurion from officer. Red cloaks clasped and drape imperiously over backs of the empire?s officials. Saddled snugly atop their mounts, towards destination ,advance. To the horizon ,another outpost awaits them. Keeping their presence seen and felt. Mere manoeuvres .Necessary routine. Town square forums and resthouses. Aqueducts and baths of villas. They must forego these comforts. They are duty bound for now. Daylight recedes. Evening emerges. SEVENTH MORSEL