Avenging Varus Part II

by R. W. Peake

  We exited the brothel after chatting a bit more with Aroborix. When my uncle turned in the direction of the forum, I asked, “What about taking another way again? Gaius might still have men out there.”

  He gave me a grin.

  “I know a way to go that Gaius never used, and I doubt he even knows about.” Before I could respond, he added with a laugh, “Besides, even if he did, you wouldn’t catch him dead using it.” When I asked why, he said only, “You’ll see.”

  I muttered a bit, but I followed him, and just before we reached the edge of the forum, Septimus took a sudden and unexpected turn, not down an intersecting street, but a narrow alley midway down the block. Naturally, I followed him…then came to an abrupt stop as I gagged from the stench that was trapped between the backs of the buildings on either side.

  “The public latrines are right there.” Septimus pointed to the building to our left, although I was not paying close attention because I was trying not to retch, which clearly amused him, teasing, “You’ve been in how many battles, and you’re about to throw up because of some cac?”

  “Some cac?” I managed. “Is this the only public latrine in town? Because it smells like it.”

  He had already turned back in our direction of travel, muffling his voice a bit as he said, “Now do you see why we don’t need to worry? Can you imagine my brother…”

  If he finished what he was saying, I never heard it; the blow was not only unexpected, coming from behind, it dropped me to my knees, although it was not to my head. At least, the first one was not; what I assume to be the flat of a gladius or perhaps a stave struck me across the small of my back, and the effect was to instantly rob me of the strength of my legs, although I certainly felt my knees striking the slimy paving stones. I suppose it was out of instinct that I dropped my head while hunching my shoulders, because the next blow struck me across the back of my neck, and I heard someone bellow with pain. My last memory of that moment was the sight of Septimus being held by two men, facing me as he struggled, and while I recognized his voice, I could not make out what he was shouting. Then I simultaneously felt a tremendous blow to my head that caused an instantaneous explosion of light, then darkness; I suppose the only blessing was that I was unconscious before I went facedown in the oozing seepage from the latrine.

  My next memory was actually one of smell, but while it was the same stench I had noticed when I first stepped into the alley, it was infinitely stronger, and I almost immediately began to retch. It was completely dark, and it took a matter of heartbeats for me to realize that the cause for the stronger odor and the lack of light was because of some sort of hood over my head; it was when I unconsciously tried to reach up to remove it that I learned I was bound. The final discovery came when I moved to stand up, and some sort of binding around my waist and feet prevented me from doing it.

  “He’s awake,” I heard a man say, but I did not recognize the voice.

  I heard the scraping of a chair, then the sound of footsteps on a wooden floor as what I was certain was a man approached, but when he spoke, it was a different voice, and I am ashamed to say that I jumped slightly because it was so close to me.

  Judging by the sound, the man was standing over me, and he said, “Let’s see if his brains are scrambled.” Then, “Oy! Soldier boy!” I cannot say why, but I did not respond. Which, I quickly learned, was a mistake, although this time, it was a hard slap and not a blow that rendered me unconscious. I heard the groan escape my lips, and I cursed myself for my weakness. “I know you’re awake, you bastard,” the man snarled. “Stop trying to play dead, or you might not have to pretend. Understand?”

  One of the things my mother said quite often about me was that I could give mules a lesson in stubbornness, and it was that quality that made me refuse to answer, although I did give a nod. This seemed to satisfy him since he did not hit me again, then I felt his hands move over my body, checking the bonds that kept me firmly attached to what I now realized was a chair. For a brief instant, I held out a faint hope, but when I tried to move my feet, I determined they were bound to the chair legs. My hands were behind me, with the back of the chair in between my arms and my back, which explained why there was no feeling in my arms and hands, and while I never asked, I assume that this was why they had bound me in this manner, counting on the wooden back to cut off the circulation to my arms and hands, and if so, it was a good decision.

  Apparently satisfied, I heard him walk away, followed by the creak as he dropped back into his chair, and this was what prompted me to say, in a voice I barely recognized, “What do you want?”

  There was a sharp sound that I suppose was his version of a laugh, but I also heard a snicker off to my left, and despite my fuzzy mind, I forced myself to mark the location, while trying to figure out a way to determine if there were more men around me.

  “So he speaks!” I recognized the voice as belonging to the man who had checked my bindings. “And,” there was a slight modulation in his tone that suggested he turned his face away from me, as if he was addressing someone else, “he wants to know what we want. Should we tell him?”

  Before whoever he asked could respond, I heard the distinctive sound of a door opening then shutting quickly, and a third voice, one that I recognized immediately, demanded, “What are you doing?”

  There was a scraping sound of a chair, which I assumed was the result of someone standing suddenly, and the voice of my interrogator became obsequious. “Just making sure that he’s awake, Dominus. And that he hadn’t loosened his bonds.”

  “That,” Gaius’ tone was cutting, “is very commendable…you idiot. You just used my name!”

  This actually made me laugh, and it was an odd experience, hearing my voice differently because of the hood, but before anyone could react, I answered Gaius with the same sarcasm he had just used. “As if I didn’t recognize your voice the instant you opened your mouth…uncle? And, is this any way to treat your nephew?”

  Judging from the position of the sound, it was Gaius who hissed a curse, and this was confirmed when he shot back, “When my nephew shows up and meddles in matters that are none of his business, I’m afraid this is the best he can expect. And,” he added threateningly, “he might want to remember that he’s sitting here, tied up and at his uncle’s mercy, so he should keep a civil tongue in his head!”

  My head was throbbing, and honestly, I was finding it difficult to concentrate, until he said that. Suddenly, I felt something in another part of my body, that stirring sensation deep inside of me that signaled that the beast that my father had passed to me was stirring.

  Somehow, however, I managed to sound as meek as I could force myself to be by asking, “Can you at least take the hood off now, Uncle Gaius?”

  I had no way to know, but my sense was that he was surprised, although he did not reply verbally. Instead, I heard the scraping, then the footsteps, and the hood was yanked from my head, giving me my first view of my surroundings. It certainly was not bright, but I happened to be looking in the direction where I thought Gaius would be, and he was sitting in his spot, with the two lamps behind him, which caused me to blink rapidly, but worse, the light sent a stab of pain through my head that made it difficult to keep my wits.

  “What’s that covering his face?” Gaius demanded of the man who had removed the hood, and I turned to look at him for the first time as he laughed, “It’s cac, Dominus. He went facedown into it when we bashed him.”

  “Well,” Gaius said irritably, “clean him up.” I was about to thank him when he added, “I can smell him from here.”

  Rather than do it himself, the man, who had features that immediately made me think of a rat, turned and ordered someone behind me, “You heard the Dominus. Get a rag and some water and clean him up.”

  Whoever it was muttered something unintelligible, but I could hear him walk away, and I took the opportunity to survey everything within my sight. Naturally, we were in Bacchus’ Delight, but it was empty, save for Ga
ius, the rat-faced man, and a third man who I could barely make out in the far corner of the room. He did not appear to be hiding, exactly, but as I forced myself to recall the layout of the place as it would appear to anyone walking through the door, I was fairly certain that he would be almost impossible to see from the entrance. Gaius was ignoring me, seemingly absorbed in something on the table in front of him, although I could not really see what it was. The return of the man sent on the errand was announced by his footsteps, and I heard the water sloshing from the bucket, but when he was right behind me, he actually stopped.

  The rat-faced man looked over my head at the man, snarling, “Why are you just standing there? You don’t expect me to do it, do you?”

  “I don’t care who does it,” Gaius announced, without looking up, “but if you two don’t stop bickering, I’m going to have you cleaning my nephew’s face with your tongue.”

  Rat Face gave his comrade a triumphant smile, but I understood why his counterpart had been reluctant when he appeared in my vision, holding a bucket and water.

  “Why, salve, Prixus!” I said with mock geniality. “It’s good to see you’re not dead. I was worried about that. In fact,” I grinned up at him, “I think I made an overall improvement. You’re not scaring little children and old women anymore!”

  Even with the swelling, black eyes, and nose that was taking even more of a turn than it had before, I could see the fury in Prixus’ eyes, and I saw the hand holding the rag curl into a fist, so I braced myself for the man to try and exact at least some revenge.

  Clearly, Gaius was paying attention, because while he still had his head bowed, he called out, “Don’t touch him, Prixus.” Only then did he look up at me, then added, “Not yet, at least. If my brother and sister don’t see reason, then I promise you can have your turn.”

  This was when I understood, but I used the time while Prixus was scrubbing my face, rubbing much harder than necessary, which I expected, trying to think things through.

  Once Prixus stepped away, I not only felt better because the smell was not as bad, it had helped clear my head a bit, and I said to Gaius, “You’re expecting them to do what, exactly, Gaius? Sign over the villa to you?”

  “That,” Gaius agreed, then offered me a twisted smile, “and another couple of items. Nothing really important.”

  “Algaia,” I muttered.

  “That’s not her name, you ignorant cunnus!”

  Gaius had leapt to his feet to scream this at me, and despite the dim lighting, I am certain I saw the madness in his eyes, making me realize this ran much, much deeper than his desire to have Algaia and the villa. Now that he was on his feet, he edged from behind the table and came stalking at me with such purpose that I braced myself for him to strike me, but he stopped just out of reach to point his finger in my face.

  “If your fucking father hadn’t showed up here, none of this would be happening,” he snarled this, and I saw the spray of spittle as he ranted, “but he had to come stick his nose into my affairs!”

  I could only stare at him in astonishment, though I managed to gasp, “He was the oldest man in the family! He had every right to intervene!” I instinctively tried to raise my hand to point at him just as he was doing with me, but naturally, I could not; however, when I attempted it, I distinctly heard a slight cracking sound, and I felt the back of the chair bend, slightly but perceptibly, which gave me the idea. Nevertheless, I still managed to add, “And if you hadn’t lost so much fucking money because you were cheated by someone who’s a trickster, he wouldn’t have had to!”

  Gaius’ reaction was almost as violent as if I had slapped him, and he gasped, “What do you know about that?” Before I could respond, he spoke seemingly more to himself, muttering, “So, Alex wasn’t lying that Titus wrote it down.”

  “No, he wasn’t,” I assured him, then immediately made things more difficult for myself because I added, “In fact, I’ve been reading his account every night, except for tonight. Since,” I sneered, “you interrupted us going home.”

  “You mean it’s here?” he asked sharply, and I could almost see the wheels in his mind turning. He gave a sudden shrug. “No matter. When they get here, I’ll just add that to the list.”

  I should point out that, at this moment, I was almost certain that Gaius was bluffing, at least about doing me any real harm, which was why I felt confident enough to point that out.

  “Why are you pretending that you’d actually kill me if Septimus and Miriam don’t give you want you want?”

  “Nephew,” Gaius looked at me with widened eyes that I am certain was for effect, “I don’t see how you could even think that I’d harm a hair on your head.” I opened my mouth to ask why he was bothering, but I got my answer when he nodded in the direction of Prixus, saying, “Prixus, on the other hand, is another matter. In fact, I dare say that Prixus is actually hoping that my brother and sister don’t see sense. Isn’t that right, Prixus?”

  I am certain it was no coincidence that Prixus chose that moment to move back into my view, and while he was smiling, it held nothing but malice.

  Deliberately ignoring him, I challenged Gaius, “Are you really that much of a coward, Gaius?” He flashed me an angry look, and I taunted him, “Is that why you never served like your older brothers? Because you’re too afraid for your own skin to risk it?”

  “Shut your mouth,” he snarled, “or I’ll have Prixus gag you!”

  “You’ve got your grandfather’s gladius, don’t you? You must since your…minions took it from me. You should at least have the courage to use it yourself on me, shouldn’t you? Look me in the eyes as you take my life?”

  “Shut your mouth!” For the second time, he leapt to his feet after having just returned to his seat and walked over to me again, then when he got close enough for me to look into his eyes, it confirmed what I had suspected, that he was unhinged. Pointing down into my face, he screeched, “If you say another word, you’ll be sorry!”

  “About what?” I sneered up at him. “That my uncle, who carries the Pullus name, is a fucking sniveling coward who’s not nearly as clever as he thinks and now has gotten himself into a situation where he’s going to have to kill his own nephew? Oh, believe me, I already am.” I saw the blow coming, so when his fist struck me on the cheek, I rolled my head to the side and lessened the impact. It stung, certainly, but frankly, I was surprised that a member of my family seemed unable to generate much power, so that I was not lying when I said, laughing, “Miriam hits harder than that.”

  I expected him to begin raining blows down on me or order Prixus to go to work on me; instead, he glared down at me, wild-eyed for a heartbeat, then spun about and stalked back to the table. He leaned down, which was when I realized that he had draped my baltea across the back of his chair, because when he turned around, the gladius was in his hand, and he came stalking back to me.

  “You not only hit like a woman, you carry that gladius like you’ve never held one before,” I scoffed, then added a laugh that I hoped did not sound as false to him as it did to me. “You’re not worthy of even touching Titus Pullus’ gladius!” He thrust it out, but I had seen he was too far away, and the point hovered several inches in front of my face, right about nose level, where I could see the point shaking. “You know,” I remarked, “you have to be awfully strong to stab a man through the skull, even with the Prefect’s gladius.” I gave him a mocking smile. “Trust me, I know, because I’ve done it.” Pausing just a heartbeat, I asked, “Have you ever stabbed anyone, Gaius?”

  For whatever reason, this seemed, not to startle him necessarily, but to make him think, and for the barest instant, the madness left him, and he admitted, “No, I haven’t.” He suddenly dropped his arm, and while it might have been because it had gotten tired, I do not believe so, because he turned away from me and walked back to his chair, tossing the blade onto the table before dropping into his seat. He was not looking at me; instead, he was frowning down at what I had determined was a tabl
et. In barely more than a whisper, he said, “You know, I did want to join the Legions, I really did.” Lifting his head, he stared at me as he added, “I truly did. But Mama wouldn’t allow it. She said that two sons under the standard was enough. And,” he dropped his gaze as he shrugged, “as usual, Tata went along with her.”

  I opened my mouth, except that I did not really know what to say, but I got a glimpse into my uncle’s soul then, and I do believe he was sincere that he wanted to enlist.

  Whether it was some sort of divine inspiration I cannot say, but the words came to me. “My mother knew all along that this was what I was born to do. I didn’t realize it at the time, but she knew I belonged under the standard.”

  Gaius studied me for a long moment, but I was completely unprepared for him to say, “You didn’t tell me how Titus died. You said you were there, but you didn’t say how it happened.”

  Without any warning, I felt a hard lump form in my chest, one that was so strong that I was certain it would choke the life out of me, yet somehow, I managed to keep the tears from forming, doing so by telling myself that perhaps, just perhaps, this might bring some sort of resolution to this situation that did not end with bloodshed.

  “He died,” I said, the bitterness and sorrow so strong I could taste it, “because of me, Gaius. I got him killed.”

  Not surprisingly, this got his attention, although he did not say anything, staring at me without expression as I talked. And, I left nothing out, beginning by describing how I saw the Tertius Princeps Posterior Trigeminus in trouble, because Arminius and a substantial part of his force caught up with us when we were trying to bring Segestes, and most importantly, Arminius’ pregnant wife and Segestes’ daughter Thusnelda back across the Rhenus. I quickly determined that the only way I could do so was to pretend that I was giving the kind of report that Centurions are expected to offer their superiors after some sort of action, yet, while I cringed at the flat, emotionless tone I was using, it was the only way I could do it. And, Gaius sat, listening, his face betraying none of his thoughts, while the revulsion I felt for myself grew, almost with every word. When I got to the moment where I was forced by the gods to watch as the man I thought of as my Pilus Prior but was so much more than that was stabbed in the chest, that was when I stopped, unable to continue, nor could I maintain my gaze on him, and I dropped my head to stare at my lap.