The Broken Lance

by Jess Steven Hughes

  “I assure you nothing will happen,” he answered soberly. “I value my life, not to mention money and what’s between my legs, too highly to waste either on a whore, I mean, slave.”

  “Don’t forget!”

  *

  As I rode Argento up the Via Praetoria, the fort’s torch-lit main street and surrounding barracks were deserted. Except for the glum sentries patrolling the wall’s catwalks and key buildings, most of the men were at Rix’s. It was the third hour after dusk, and I started having second thoughts about approaching Gallus this late in the evening. Perhaps I should have waited until morning. But I couldn’t stay away. I had to get an answer about the money now.

  Approaching the Principia, the whitewashed headquarters building that doubled as Gallus’s home, I noticed a glow filtering through the wooden archway at the entrance to the courtyard. After dismounting my bay, I asked the guard on duty if Gallus was in his office.

  “Aye, Sergeant, he’s working late.” The bored sentry waved me through.

  I tied my horse to the hitching post and passed through the cobblestoned courtyard and by the cohort chapel. Inside, raised on a wooden platform above the floor, the standards of six centuries from the infantry and four from the cavalry troops stood in a half-circle, around the life-size statue of Emperor Claudius. Dressed in the uniform of a general, the bust’s youthful face was illuminated by an equal number of oil lamps.

  At the nearby adjutant’s office, Gallus’s Greek clerk busily filed several documents in the cubbyholes of a wall cabinet containing hundreds of wax tablets. A smoky brazier and three olive oil lamps dimly illuminated the office. I rapped the wooden counter, jolting the slave out of his thoughts.

  I told the servant to inform his master that I requested permission to see him.

  A moment later, the Greek returned and nodded to Gallus’s office door.

  I stood at attention in the murky lamplight, while Gallus kept me waiting as he scanned and signed the parchments on his desk. A few minutes later he glanced up from the reports and inspected my appearance. “At least your uniform is still fit, Sergeant. Unlike you, I have responsibilities, and little time for drinking and whoring.”

  The words were difficult for me to mouth. Humiliated. Desperate. I hated asking a family enemy for a favor. No doubt he would enjoy my squirming.

  “I came to you, sir,” I answered, “because you’re the only one who can help me.”

  Gallus dropped his reed pen into the pot of lampblack ink. He pursed his lips and nodded. “You’re asking my help? You must be desperate.”

  “I need a loan.”

  The tribune raised his nearly invisible eyebrows. Slowly a smile, like a cat who has cornered a mouse, appeared on his thin lips. “Aren’t you being presumptuous that a superior officer would loan a subordinate money?”

  “You know my family is good for the cash, sir. I can repay you in about three months, when I receive the amount from home.”

  “True, you are rich enough. Should I consider your request, how much would you need?”

  “Five hundred and fifty sesterces.”

  Pulling on his chin with a thumb and forefinger Gallus studied my face. “Why do you need the money?”

  “I’m buying a woman, Kyar, from Rix.” I wasn’t about to ask him for the entire balance, although it meant she had to stay with Rix. No doubt I was making a mistake, but my pride wouldn’t allow me to ask Gallus for any more than necessary to satisfy that camp-following pimp.

  Gallus crinkled his nose in disgust. “I might have guessed this involved a whore.”

  I winced at his snide remark. I wanted to strike him but dared not. I could not even clinch my fists. I was still at attention. He would have seen them at my side and considered it an act of insubordination.

  “I will give you credit for your taste,” Gallus added in a more amiable voice. He dropped the hand from his chin and poured a cup of wine from a jug sitting on one side of the desk. “If the rumors I’ve heard are true, she’s certainly an improvement over the women Rix has provided in the past.” He took a noisy gulp.

  His words jolted me. This wasn’t the Gallus I knew. Why the sudden friendliness?

  “All right,” he said, “I will grant your loan. You can stand at ease.” As I relaxed, Gallus called his clerk and whispered something in the Greek’s ear, who nodded and left the office.

  “What are the terms for repayment?” I asked, certain he would add an outrageous usury rate, like Rix.

  “My loan is interest free.”

  For a few seconds, I stared at him. What was his motive?

  “Why does that surprise you?” Gallus asked in a cordial voice, as if he had been offended by his best friend.

  “Most lenders charge interest, sir,” I answered as diplomatically as possible. “I wasn’t expecting your terms to be so generous. After all, this is a business proposition.”

  The clerk reappeared and handed Gallus a small bulging, leather pouch, clinking with the familiar sound of coins.

  Gallus handed me the sack as soon as the servant departed. “Of course,” he added, “I may ask a favor from you in the future.”

  “What kind, sir?” Naturally, he wanted something in return, no doubt, far higher than any interest rate.

  “An honorable one of course. Nothing, I’m sure you wouldn’t hesitate to grant. I will tell you at the appropriate time.”

  Besides money, what else could Gallus want? His family was one of the richest in Rome. I had been on my best behavior since my humiliation at Avaro’s execution. I was posted in the most remote and gods-forsaken province in the empire, considered by many as a form of punishment. However, in my desperation, I would have said anything not to lose Kyar.

  “The favor is yours!” I told him.

  *

  Back in Kyar’s cubicle, we sat on the bed-pallet. I explained that she had to stay with Rix until I received the rest of the money.

  “Must I?” she groaned, clinging tightly to my shoulders. “I hate him!”

  “You have to stay, only three more months.”

  “I’ll die!”

  “I hate it as much as you, but Hispania is far away.” I motioned with my head toward the room’s entrance. “It’ll take that long for the money to arrive. The worst part is your purchase must be conducted as a business matter.”

  “Like a piece of property.” Her naturally pouting lips turned into a frown.

  “You’re not to me,” I answered, trying to reassure her, “but to the law, you are.”

  “How much did you pay?”

  “Two thousand sesterces.”

  “Two thousand! By Great Tiu and Donar, he robbed you,” she blurted, but, at the same time, seemed pleased, judging from the hug she gave me. “He bought me for eight hundred, and that’s because I’m a princess.”

  “You’re worth every copper.”

  “No, I’m not. But I would have died if you hadn’t paid the price.” Tears came to her eyes. “The idea of being with another man makes me sick. I don’t know if I can do it any longer. I hate being a whore.”

  “You’re not any longer.”

  A gasp erupted from deep in Kyar’s throat. “No, Marcellus, you don’t mean it.”

  “It’s true, I gave Rix a personal item as a measure of security. He’s promised you’ll never be used again—by anyone.”

  “Are you sure? He’s so evil. What if he forces me when you’re gone?”

  “He won’t but you must behave. The time will pass quickly, you’ll see. When I receive the money, you won’t have to live like this. You’ll be my woman and no one else’s.”

  “Oh, to be your woman, I want it so much.” I held her in my arms as we sat in silence. Kyar was soft and warm to the touch, and I ran my hand through her long, sweet hair. She sighed, tracing the line of a thin scar along my shoulders. “I’ll watch my temper, but please hurry, get the money. I’m afraid of Rix—I’m afraid.” She clung to me, not unlike a frightened child.

  �
�He’s been warned. He’s a dead man should any harm come to you, but don’t provoke him either.”

  “I know he wants you killed. He hopes you won’t survive the campaign, and he can keep the money. I have been with Rix long enough to know he wants everything both ways.”

  I kissed her and grinned. “Rix’s in for a disappointment, I’m coming back. But I’m not gone yet, we have a few more days.”

  We made love again before I reluctantly departed. As I said good-bye, Kyar pleaded with me to stay just a little longer. I dared not. We kissed again before I insisted I must go.

  “I love you,” she whispered. “Hurry back.”

  I forced myself to leave the room before better judgment gave way. I couldn’t bring myself to say that I loved her, too.

  From childhood I was taught a strict division exists between Roman citizens, freedmen, and slaves. I broke the prohibition by falling in love with a woman, who in the eyes of Rome was a slave and prostitute. In my eyes, she was still a princess, even if she was a so-called barbarian, and I planned to give Kyar freedom after an acceptable period of time elapsed.

  *

  Fearing that someone might intercept the letter, I wrote my mother that night in the old Turdetanian language, asking for money and explained the reason. I didn’t mention that Kyar was a prostitute. Mother would have never understood, deeming it a hindrance in my future admission to the Equestrian Order. However, I knew of men who had been admitted with far greater omissions.

  The next morning, I took aside the legion courier, transporting military dispatches to Hispania and Rome, and gave him my letter. I slipped him twenty pieces of silver for the risk involved carrying private letters against regulations. He said for that price he would break all the rules. I assured him if there was an answer to my letter, he would receive the same again for his troubles.

  After concealing the folded parchment, he spurred his Gallic mount and bolted for the camp gate. Soon he was out of sight heading down the road to the harbor of Noviomagnus. As I hiked back to the barracks, I prayed to Melkart that I would receive the money in time to free Kyar from the clutches of Rix.

  Chapter 13

  The stables reeked of urine-soaked straw and steaming manure. As I passed the slave groom cleaning the stall, I spotted Crispus at the far end, bridling his mare for the afternoon drills. I checked the adjacent stalls, making certain no one was about.

  “You’re acting secretive, Marcellus,” Crispus said. “What are you hiding?”

  Earlier, I had explained to Crispus that upon discharge he would receive Roman citizenship and could marry any Roman female who would have him, a fact he knew well. I suggested he search for a rich widow who would leave a legacy, setting him up financially for life. The empire was full of legacy hunters.

  “Remember our conversation this morning about marrying a Roman citizen?”

  Crispus gently slipped the snaffle bit into the dappled gray’s mouth and pulled the bridle over its ears. “What of it? May I be sacrificed to Melkart before marrying any poxed woman.”

  I cleared my throat. “I have a similar problem, but in reverse.”

  Crispus turned from his mount and scowled. “And I can guess who she is.”

  A horse at the far end of the stable whinnied. I listened for approaching footsteps, and, except for the sound of the slave’s rake, there wasn’t any movement. “Crispus, this is to remain between you and me. No one is to know, understand?”

  “Don’t I always keep my mouth shut?” He turned back to his horse.

  I raised a palm and dropped it. “I bought Kyar.”

  “You didn’t!” Crispus jerked too tightly on the throat latch, and the mount snorted and snapped its head from side to side.

  “Quiet!” I warned, hearing shuffling footsteps coming our way. Obulco and Andubal entered the near end of the stable, carrying saddles and bridles, heading for their horses. Another minute passed while Crispus soothed his mare.

  He locked eyes with me. “I should know better than offer a man advice on a horse or a woman. But since you’re asking, don’t do it! You’re letting your spear do the thinking.” He bared his teeth.

  I shook my head. “No, I’m not. I’ve given this much thought. I want her, and she feels the same way. The trouble is, I only had half the money, and sent a letter home asking for the rest.”

  Crispus rebuckled the bridle’s nose band. “That’s worse! Rix will sell her as soon as we move out, long before you get your money.”

  Obulco, who had placed the saddle blanket on his mount, started over to join the conversation. Crispus barked, “Bugger off!”

  “He’s greedy,” I continued, “but he’s a coward and values his life more. Besides, I gave him my father’s gold belt buckle for security. Kyar won’t have to work any longer.”

  Crispus snorted as he tightened the saddle’s cinch. “That’s worth a fortune. He’ll melt it down before we’re gone a week and still get rid of her.”

  “He won’t—he’s dead if anything happens to Kyar or my buckle.”

  “How would we know? There’s nothing to keep him from moving north and following one of the other legions. He has to wait and get permission to follow us. Remember, Vespasian hates Rix and threatened to crucify him if he was seen anywhere near the legion camp.”

  I rubbed his horse’s silky-smooth nose, attempting to contain my irritation to his prodding questions. “The closest legion is Fourteenth Gemina in Camulodunum. They’re launching their offensive on the same date as the Second Legion. Rumor has it they are marching to the northwest. Rix won’t follow them.”

  “Why wouldn’t he?” Crispus persisted. Finished with the saddle, he stooped and gave the hooves one final inspection.

  I wiped my clammy hands on the side of my woolen breeches. Knowing how Crispus would react, I hadn’t wanted to tell him the details. But he was my best friend, and I trusted him to hold his tongue. “Gallus won’t allow it because he’d lose his percentage on the profits. His family’s spies would track Rix down and arrange for a timely accident. And he knows about my agreement with Rix.”

  “That’s not surprising.”

  “No, especially since I had to borrow part of the money from him.” Reflectively, I reached for the money pouch tied beneath my tunic.

  Crispus froze. Then he dropped the mare’s hoof and spat on the straw-covered floor. “Are you mad? Why did you borrow from Gallus?” His black eyes bored through me as if I didn’t exist.

  I gripped the hilt of my sword and leaned against the stall railing. “I realize I’m knee deep in horse shit, but this is why.” I explained the circumstances surrounding the loan.

  “Now I know your brains are between your legs,” Crispus said when I finished. “An interest-free loan means a hidden rope hanging from the other end, and Gallus is the hangman.” For a split second, he gripped the front of his throat with a hand.

  I gestured toward my chest. “I have to take the risk. He gets nothing if anything happens to Kyar. He’ll see that no harm comes to her.”

  “For your sake, my friend, I pray you’re right.”

  *

  The following night I visited Kyar one more time before the cohort left on campaign. She sat on the edge of the bed-pallet, waiting as I entered her freshly cleaned cubicle. Earlier in the day, I sent word that I had received permission to see her. A smoky lamp burning rancid olive oil sat on a corner stool. Its shadowy light exaggerated the paleness of Kyar’s complexion, as if all color had vanished since my last visit. She claimed she had suffered from a woman’s sickness, but refused to say what kind. I suspected what it might be but held my tongue.

  Kyar got to her feet and rushed to me, hungrily covering my face with kisses.

  “I was so afraid you wouldn’t come,” she said. “I prayed they’d let you see me.”

  “Aye, Rufius is a good-hearted commander.” I drew her into my arms. Her long, thick hair smelled of perfumed soap, sage, rosemary, and dried chamomile. I buried my face in it.
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br />   She wriggled from my embrace, and deftly slid from her lavender-scented tunic.

  She placed her hands around my shoulders and pulled off my tunic. Quickly, she unlaced my trousers, and then we stood revealed to one another. I touched her cheek, slowly slid my fingers along her jawline and curved them across to beneath her lower lip. My calloused hand lingered on her mouth as she caressed my chest, the tip of her fingers circling the taut nipples. Then our hands moved together, cupping each other’s face, lingering and drawing away, lingering and drawing away.

  *

  Awakening later, I turned over and snuggled next to Kyar as she lay with her back to me. She sighed, and a few minutes later I sensed she opened her eyes. I kissed her shoulders.

  She turned and smiled. “Gods, tonight was beautiful.”

  I grinned. “You know I like making you happy.”

  “You’ve always loved me so well, Marcellus.” For a moment, her mind seemed to drift. “It’s different with you. Before you came along . . . all I knew were soldiers who took my body as a stallion would a mare—jabbing like passionless animals. Then they would leave and brag to their friends how good they were. But tonight . . . I never knew love could be like this.” She paused again, as if thinking.

  “It’s hard to explain,” she said slowly, “but you allowed me to open in a way I’ve never known before. You touched something deep inside me that I never knew existed.”

  I kissed her again and held her tightly in my arms.

  “I’ll always love you, Marcellus, even if I’m never more than your woman.”

  “But I love you, too,” I blurted, puzzled by her last remark.

  “I know,” she answered, “I saw it in your eyes. I felt your struggle to admit it.”

  She had to know the truth. “I fought against my feelings because of a promise I made to my mother.”