From Darkness

by C K Ruppelt

  “Tell them I’ll be with them shortly,” Caesar said, walking away from the group to head straight for the digging legionaries. “What have you poor sods done to get this duty?” Caesar shouted at them, smiling. The legionaries looked up, briefly stopping their work. “Nothing I want to tell our mighty propraetor about, sir, sorry!” One of them replied with a deadpan face. The whole group broke out into laughter.

  “See these folks behind me?” Caesar added, after the laughter died down. The group all looked past him at the delegation. “They want to urgently negotiate terms. Seems like they are scared of us. Should we let them use our latrines before they need new pants?” The legionaries laughed even harder this time. “Are you ready to be done with this campaign? How do the words winter quarters sound to you?” He was answered with cheers and hoots. They probably stewed long enough, let’s go deal with these people.

  He sauntered back to the group of Callaeci, seemingly interested in anything but them. He should be able to negotiate favorable terms for plunder without having to sacrifice another single legionary. “Where were we?” He asked Hirtius, briefly winking at his aide before putting on a look of absolute boredom for his guests.

  693 AUC (61 BC), winter

  Scalabis, Roman Headquarter for Lusitania, Hispania

  “We are forever bound by Cornelia,” Caesar told Cinna after he heard yet another thank you from the man. “There is no need for you to grovel.” He gestured to the small table and stools on the small porch of the town house that had become his defacto headquarters in the city. They both sat down. “My plans are to help you back to a career following the Cursus Honorum. You lost too many good years out here in exile.”

  “You can say whatever you want, but the fact is that I will forever be grateful to you. Most of my old friends won’t even respond to my letters. I must be a persona non-grata in Rome, somebody to be avoided at all cost,” Cinna responded.

  “Not for much longer. While you officially serve as tribune, I will work on the Senate to approve your eligibility for higher office. It’s near impossible to get Sulla’s law thrown out that made your father an official traitor. My plan is to get a majority vote to get you exempted based on your service to the Republic.”

  “Thank you for all you are doing for me.” Cinna’s gaze went over the flowers in the small garden. “How is my niece Julia these days? I hope I can meet her someday.”

  “She is fifteen now, and strikingly beautiful. I am happy to say that she takes after her mother, though she reminds me so much of her sometimes that it hurts,” Caesar mused. How I wish you would have been here to see her grow up, my sweet Cornelia.

  “Does she get along with your new wife? What was her name, Pompeia?”

  “Oh, they got along just fine. Pompeia was a nice enough person, though I divorced her earlier this year,” Caesar replied.

  Cinna raised his left eyebrow at him. “You divorced her? Sorry, I hadn’t heard.”

  “The marriage was a political arrangement, though I tried to fall in love with her, I really did. But the fact is she’s not Cornelia.” Caesar paused for a moment before showing Cinna a slight smile. “I should have divorced her much sooner. Once I realized that I will never love her, I felt free to have my fun. I’ve made a sport out of sleeping with the wives of my staunchest opponents in the Senate.” He noticed a brief look of surprise on Cinna’s face before the man joined him in a brief bout of laughter.

  “When you come to Rome, I’ll walk you across the Forum Romanum before one of the senate meetings, so I can introduce you to the senators I’m talking about. I am even on a civil footing with senator Decimus Junius Silanus these days. The man used to loath me, though has changed his view thanks to his lovely wife Servilia. She has become a close friend since we started seeing each other three years ago.” Caesar noticed his brother-in-law shaking his head in wonder. He knew he wasn’t the same principled young man anymore that Cinna had known. He sighed. There is no way back. Cornelia is gone, and the best of me went with her. I just sometimes forget how much I have changed, while dear Cinna still seems the same idealist as ever.

  Caesar stood up. “Would you have some wine with me? Yes? Let me go and get some.” As he walked to the kitchens, he wondered if Cinna would still recognize Rome. It had changed so much since the time of Marius, buildings and people alike.

  ***

  “And he said that was the best eatery in all of Scalabis?” Oz asked Massi as they walked with Adhe to the city.

  “Yes, he said that and more. Once he got going, he couldn’t shut up about the place,” his friend answered. Massi had asked around for a good local place to eat. Everybody was tired of legion fare and Oz was looking forward to a good meal cooked by somebody else. They passed the winter camps of the Eighth and Tenth legions on their way. The Seventh had long since departed overland, with the three remaining legions all slated to move back to Corduba in the spring.

  “The man’s point was that most of the eatery’s customers are local Roman colonists and that the favorite dishes at that place are based on Italian recipes. He swore the food was better than his own Mamma’s home cooking.”

  “Let’s hope that doesn’t just mean his mother was a horrible cook,” Adhe threw in before changing topic. “I understand why Gulussa is not leaving Daleninar alone, but why did we leave Stena and Saki in camp?” he continued.

  “My understanding of Roman style eateries is that they are not what you would call child friendly,” Oz answered. “I guess we’ll see when we get there.” He had left the children with Gulussa and his woman Daleninar, who had lost her mobility thanks to being due with child.

  They passed several other auxiliary soldiers and legionaries on leave. All of them shouted greetings, no matter their legion, and gave friendly nods or at least waved. Oz felt like they now belonged to something much bigger than themselves. “Would either of you have believed this when we signed on?” he asked. The others shook their heads.

  “No way,” Adhe answered. “Remember how the Romans all looked down on the Numidians, us especially?” He held up his dark-skinned arm for emphasis and chuckled. “Actually, not too different from some of the other Numidians. You remember that guy who called us a troop of apes back in Cirta?”

  “Didn’t he share his water with you on our march back to Scalabis?” Massi asked.

  “He did. I was so surprised when he walked up to me and offered that I didn’t know what to say.”

  “That man,” Oz added, “was the only survivor of his squad after the battle in the Stella mountains. That could change anyone’s perspective on things.”

  They stayed silent, and Oz looked over the massive open gates they walked through into city proper. “Just a few more blocks,” Massi said, and Oz sped up, hungry as he was. “Look, there is the sign hanging from the wall. Nicely painted,” Massi stated, pointing at a wooden board hung from the side of the building by two short pieces of chain.

  “Nicely painted? If I wouldn’t know that it’s supposed to be wild pheasants, I would think they serve oddly shaped turds inside,” Oz joked in reply. They all laughed.

  Massi led the way through the open doorway into a wide-open space which was defined by long, rough tables and benches at one end of the room. A cooking area on the back side of the building opened to the outside where the upper story was held up by a row of columns, allowing for multiple smaller tables on each side of the cooking area all the way out into the backyard.

  “I don’t think I ever thought an eatery could be this big,” Adhe said excitedly while looking around the busy place. The noise level was tremendous as most of the tables in the big room were occupied.

  “This is certainly not your run-of-the-mill thermopolium. Amazing!” Oz agreed, delighted at the sight. He was told that normal Italian style eateries consisted of a small L-shaped bar with a very limited food selection. If you wanted variety, you had to go pick another eatery, though they were supposedly commonplace in bigger cities.

  A
serving girl walked by with her arms full of food dishes. “You can sit wherever you like. One of us will be with you shortly. Oh, and if you haven’t been here before, the food options are painted on the wall over there.” She turned away to deliver the plates.

  “That smelled great. Let’s see that wall.” Oz led the way until they got close to the food depictions. “Fortunately, painted much better than the sign outside. They are big on meat here, those are all sausages, right? And are these meatballs? Olives and cheese over there and some kind of stew, plus another stew next to it. What’s the bowl after that, or the last thing?”

  “No idea, we need to ask the serving girl. I want her to explain all the options before I know what I want. Should we get a table first?” Massi added, scanning the available options. There were maybe fifty legionaries crowding the long tables against the inner wall. The smaller tables at the back and the outside were all filled by the locals, mostly workers and craftsmen by the look of their simple clothing.

  Massi led the friends to one end of the only unoccupied massive table, located between the soldiers and the locals. “I don’t see any of the wealthy Romans in here that walk the streets outside just like anybody else. I wonder why not?”

  “From what I know higher-class Romans frown on public eateries. Maybe because the serving staff is supposed to work as prostitutes for extra money,” Oz answered. He could see that Adhe looked back at the cute serving girl from earlier with a raised eyebrow in apparent disbelief.

  “I think they might not come here because this place is meant for lower class people. I am sure that rented rooms rarely have kitchens in these cities,” Adhe countered.

  They expectantly waited for a few minutes until the same cute young woman came to their table.

  “What would you like to eat? Do you have any questions?” she asked.

  “Could you run us through the dishes on the wall, please? I am not sure about all of them. Or what anything costs,” Adhe spoke up.

  “Sure thing, sweetie,” she said, winking her long lashes at him with a seductive smile. “We have something here to suit any coin purse. Starting from the left with our house specialty, sausages from pork or lamb, Italian style with fennel and pine nuts, fresh every day and served with garum sauce. Next are steamed meatballs, or skewered boar and pheasant. Those are all five sesterces.” She looked at them, Oz thought, as if she expected some quip about the outrageously steep price of the main meals. The table stayed silent however in expectation for her to continue. She listed the whole menu from the most to least expensive items and explained the available wine choices. “Now, what would you like?”

  Oz looked at his two friends. “Are we doing this?” He saw Adhe and Massi enthusiastically nod. “Great.” He looked at their waitress. “All sounds good, we’ll take one of each dish.” The waitress’s eyebrows rose, expecting Oz to declare he was joking. “I’m serious! We’ll share everything with our friends back at camp.” He grinned. “And we came prepared.” They all brought out pieces of loose cloth in anticipation of wrapping leftovers.

  “And a pitcher of the red wine, please. We had way too much of the cheap black these last three years.” They all laughed. Wine bought by the legion’s quartermasters tended to err on the side of vinegar, though the soldiers usually didn’t mind. Wine was known as a cure-all when combined with copious amounts of garlic. If the wine was of the black variety, it added extra strength for the drinker, or so the cohort’s regular medicus insisted. As the serving girl walked to the kitchen, they brought out their purses to count out coins. They stopped when they reached the total, and all added an additional sesterce as a generous tip for the girl.

  “We couldn’t do this every day with the meat dishes this expensive. Look over at the local tables, they are only eating from the inexpensive side of the menu,” Oz observed. The other two turned to look at the local tables.

  “You are right,” Massi said, “but the legionaries are sure going for it,” he added, making Oz turn to the tables behind him. He saw meat dishes everywhere and noticed many pitchers of wine on the soldiers’ tables, likely the reason why the majority of the noise in the room originated there. They did not have to wait long before receiving their wine, followed by the food.

  “That earthenware is decent, just as good as the legion’s,” Massi commented. After the waitress took the pile of coins she presented them with a wide smile. “Please let me know if you would like anything else. We have a quiet corner in the yard or a few small rooms upstairs with some privacy.”

  “Ah, thanks, we’ll think about it,” Oz answered with a lopsided smile.

  “You weren’t kidding,” Adhe said after the girl had left their table.

  Massi laughed at their apparent discomfort. “You guys never paid for it?”

  “Nope,” Oz said, while Adhe just shook his head. “We never had to or wanted to. Adhe always had his share of local girl admirers.” He looked at his flushing nephew, who was usually too shy to take advantage of the offers. “Maybe we should get to know some of the locals better instead,” he added, pointing at a far table that held a group of local women of different ages, apparently all friends.

  Adhe slowly whistled through his teeth when he followed Oz’s finger. “No kidding! Pretty, and well-dressed. Decent local women.”

  They enjoyed the various offerings, slowing down well before making a real dent in the huge amount of food. “I can think of a couple of children that will be excited about some of these for breakfast,” Oz said while pointing at the sausages.

  “These are so filling, I don’t think I could have another one,” Massi commented, leaning back and resting his hands on his full stomach.

  “And that red wine is strong stuff,” Adhe added, finishing his cup. “Goes to your head quickly.”

  Oz saw a legionary stumble past. “Talk about wine or too much of it.” His eyes followed the man who went straight to the table with the local women. “Oh no, here comes trouble.”

  Massi and Adhe turned around. The soldier made lewd gestures at a pretty young woman, trying to show her what he would like to do. The whole table of women erupted in loud protests and various shouts for the man to go away. When he made no attempt to leave, several of the adjoining local diners stood up in solidarity with the women.

  Three of the legionary’s friends walked by to stand with the drunk troublemaker. Two of them were laughing about the incident, clearly quite intoxicated themselves. The third one though looked like he was in a trance, crazy eyes darting around from an otherwise stony face. That guy looks like he’s still on a battlefield somewhere. Merda, all of them brought their swords.

  “Please get your friend here to back off,” one of the men at the adjoining table told the group. “These women are all upstanding Roman citizens from Scalabis. They are decent ladies from good families and are married or betrothed. If your friend wants sex, there’s plenty of that to be had with the staff here.” He pointed at the eatery’s wait staff watching the stand-off from close to the kitchens.

  The aggressive drunkard now walked over to the man, showing the room a wide grin. Then he slowly moved his head backwards. “You really think you can tell me what to do?” He slurred, before flinging his head forward into the local’s face. Oz cringed at the juicy sound of forehead into nose. The local man’s friends quickly grabbed their stunned and profusely bleeding fellow and retreated. All looked angry, but some also had the smarts to look scared. As they should be, armed veterans are no joke.

  The table of women, all already standing at this point, hurried towards the front of the entry in a huddled group. Three of the four soldiers followed while the silent one ran to head them off at the doorway.

  Oz, Adhe, and Massi stood up at the same time as most of the other legionaries in the room. He recognized the big group closest to the entryway as part of the third cohort of their Ninth legion.

  “Let the women go, friends!” one of the third cohort legionaries shouted, before turning to his fellows. �
��Let’s take them down, but quietly and gently, alright?” His friends spread out to encircle the women and the four soldiers both, before pulling the women through their lines, one by one, to get them out of harm’s way.

  “Looks like they have this well under control,” Adhe remarked. Oz sat back down, though still watching intently like everyone else in the room.

  The bigger group encircled the four drunken legionaries completely. The legionary who had addressed the drunks earlier spoke up again. “I am decanus Albatius. Let’s not have any problems here, alright? This is no Lusitanian town where you can do whatever you like.” Oz saw that the drunken soldiers looked annoyed. Well, they would calm down now. A quick glance back showed him patrons trying to laugh off the incident, the tension in the room relaxing. The decanus spoke up again. “We will escort you fellows home to your camp. You are all from the Eighth, right?”

  The original troublemaker was the closest of the four soldiers to the decanus. Oz saw several emotions playing across the man’s face until furious anger won out. “Fuck you!” the man shouted, exploding into a vicious lunge at the decanus, who was hit by the surprise punch. Though after recovering, he seemed able to keep the drunkard at bay.

  Oz’ eyes wandered over the whole crowd in the entry way, just in time to see the crazy eyed and silent legionary draw his gladius. “Watch out!” he shouted in warning, but it was already too late. The man violently stabbed the legionary next to him into the stomach before swinging around in one smooth motion to cut through the throat of the man on his other side. As everybody else pulled their own swords, the silent killer slashed at the decanus who turned his torso and head away at the last moment. The sword tip cut his right cheek open from the lower jaw all the way to the side of his head, cutting off and launching the lower half of his right ear into the air.

  The decanus had now followed his men with drawing his own gladius. “Don’t take any more chances!” he shouted. The men from the Ninth’s third cohort all stepped forward as one, stabbing their blades into the four men from all sides. When they moved back the lifeless bodies slumped to the ground. Oz realized the decanus didn’t just bleed from the right side of his face but also from a long cut on his left arm and. I wonder if he even realizes yet that he’s been hurt there?