by R. W. Peake
It was then that I turned to face the boy who would become my greatest friend and companion, growing to be a man I would fight beside, bleed beside, and love more than any man can love a brother. He was smaller than I was, of course, but he was even small for his age. However, even then, he had a barrel chest that made his arms stick out at an angle from his body. He was typical of almost every small man that I have ever known, which is no surprise, given how life has treated them, in that he was quick to offend and slow to back down. He had serious brown eyes, and a thatch of wiry hair that looked unkempt, no matter how he tried to tame it. I am no judge of another man’s looks, but judging by the way women fell at his feet, I would have to say that he was very handsome, with a winning smile and a quick wit, coupled with a big mouth that got him, and us, in our share of trouble. We stood for a moment, eyeing each other, not noticing that one of the girls was still there, and slowly walking up to us. Despite the obvious smell coming from Vibius, she smiled at him, and somehow I knew that what I had witnessed involved her in some way.
“Thank you, Vibius, for…” She chose her words. “…trying to defend me.”
She was a vision; I felt my heart jump, immediately thinking she was even more beautiful than my own Valeria, who, until that point, I believed was absolutely the most beautiful girl in the world. But this girl was in a different class; golden hair with smooth white skin, and she had beautifully luminescent blue eyes that always seemed to be laughing, no matter what her mood. Vibius was suddenly overtaken by some numen that stole his tongue, and the silence became awkward as he looked at the ground.
Finally, he spoke. “I just wish I had been able to do more.”
“But you did,” she exclaimed. “They left me alone after you stepped in!”
“Only because they were dipping my head in a bucket of cac,” he mumbled, and despite myself, I laughed out loud. He whirled on me and looked at me for a moment, then started laughing himself.
“I guess that was funny,” he admitted.
“It’s only because they outnumbered you,” the girl said diplomatically.
Still chuckling, despite his appearance, Vibius responded, “I doubt it. Anyway,” he suddenly looked shy again, “Thank you, Juno.”
Looking mischievous, she said, “I would give you a kiss,” blushing as she said it, and hurriedly added, “on the cheek, of course, if you weren’t…..you weren’t, you know.”
Embarrassed, she looked away.
Vibius stood there as if he had been struck mute and, after a moment, Juno said, “Well, I need to go. I’m sure tata is wondering where I am.”
Waving to us, she departed, leaving two love-struck boys in her wake. After she disappeared from sight, I stuck my hand out in the manner that I had seen Lucius do when he was concluding a deal to sell his surplus grain.
“I am Titus Pullus,” I said. It was not until he looked down at his hand ashamedly that I realized my error. He could not shake my hand because it was covered in filth, so I hurriedly said, “Let’s go find a place for you to clean up.”
When he agreed with me, I turned to pick up my sack of nails, and my heart sank. One of those cunni had stolen the bag, and I would now have to go back to Lucius empty-handed. I was doomed.
It was a long walk home, one that Vibius volunteered to walk with me, as he had nothing better to do. Now that he smelled better, I found his company very enjoyable. I had not really had much contact with other children of my age, and Vibius would become my best and longest friend. We found that we had much in common, despite our disparity in size. Like me, he was not particularly liked by his father; however, it was for exactly the opposite reason. Vibius was the runt of the litter; he had four brothers and three sisters alive at that point, and he was the youngest. He was viewed as basically useless by his father for doing any of the heavy work as a tanner, his father’s profession. This was something of a blessing, however, because it gave Vibius more freedom than his other brothers had, a fact that they were quick to remind him of with a swift kick in his rear if he got close enough. As we walked, I noticed that Vibius almost had to run to keep up with me, but he did not seem to mind. Aside from our upbringing, we also found we had a common desire to see things and do great deeds that were not available to us here in Hispania Ulterior. As we got closer to my farm, we tried to think up a reasonable excuse for my returning empty-handed, but really could not come up with anything. We stood at the path from the road that led to our farm, and once again, he thanked me for intervening that day. We shook hands solemnly, and I turned to face my fate.
In times such as this, it was in my best interest to go find Phocas before I faced Lucius, since he generally knew what to do in order to soften my father’s punishment. After my father’s beatings, I usually went to either Valeria or Gaia for comfort, but before the fact, I always sought out Phocas. I found him at the shed, and I could tell he was irritated himself, which did not bode well for me. No matter how much he despised my father, he was still a slave and, as a slave, had to put up with Lucius’ abuse of him. From appearances, it looked as if Lucius was in rare form this day, although I did not see him anywhere around.
Phocas glanced up and saw me coming, and a hint of impatience showed in his face as he held his hand out and snapped, “I didn’t tell you to be gone THAT long.” I gulped hard, and only shook my head, which made him even angrier. “What, are you mute as well now? Where are the nails?”
“I…they were stolen from me,” I stammered out.
Phocas’ eyes narrowed as he asked, “What do you mean stolen from you? How could they be stolen from you? You had to carry them.”
“I…I set them down for a moment.” He cut me off angrily.
“Boy, why would you do something stupid like that? Haven’t I told you that you have to watch every step you make when you go into town?”
I held my hands up, mutely asking him for a space so that I could explain. He quieted, and then motioned for me to proceed. I told him what had happened, how I had met Vibius, and how I had gotten in a fight. His expression changed as I told him, and he had a look of concern when I got to the part about the fight, and he stepped closer to examine me. Seeing a bruise forming on my cheek, his anger evaporated as quickly as it had come.
“Titus, are you all right?”
He began pulling my tunic this way and that, looking for other marks, but I protested that I was fine. Once I finished, he stood there thoughtfully, trying to think what to do to replace the nails and, presumably, to keep me from being beaten by Lucius.
Finally, he said, “All right. I know what I can tell your father; don’t worry about him. You need to go have Gaia see to that bruise, and get cleaned up. It’s almost time for dinner anyway.”
I turned to leave, and then Phocas called me back. I turned to him, and he had a strange expression on his face.
“I…I’m proud of you, Titus. It does my heart good to see that you're willing to protect those weaker than you. Even if your father wouldn't be proud, I am.”
To that moment, it had never occurred to me that I had done anything remotely noteworthy; I had seen an injustice perpetrated, and I had stepped in to stop it. But I realized that Phocas was right; Lucius would have called me a fool. The one person who treated me as a son was a slave, not my own father. I left the shed in a thoughtful mood.
Vibius and I became inseparable over the next several weeks. Every chance I got, I snuck away and went into town, and would go to Vibius’ father’s tanning shop, where Vibius would be waiting for me, trying to avoid being underfoot with his father. As soon as he saw me come up the alleyway where his father’s shop was located, he would scamper out and we would go roaming around, looking for mischief and adventure. In the beginning of our friendship, we still had the enmity of Marcus, Aulus, and their gang, but now that I had tasted combat, I found that I was eager for more. No doubt, it was a consequence of being the biggest and strongest child, and having absolutely no fear because, in my mind, I was invincible.
It would not be until I was much older that I would learn the hard way how wrong I was. But at the time, I enjoyed the feeling I got after we had one more incident with Marcus and Aulus and their gang.
Vibius and I were walking near the forum, closely examining an interesting rock that I had found on my walk into town, convinced that because of its uniqueness, it had to be fabulously valuable. We were gloating and talking about what we would do with the riches that would come from our sale of it, when I was struck in the head by a broken-off piece of paving stone. It was a glancing blow, not hitting me squarely, but it was enough to knock me to my knees, with my ears ringing and seeing all sorts of lights in my head. Marcus, Aulus, and their friends came bursting out of the places where they were hiding, behind some empty crates, whooping with excitement. I heard Vibius gasp in surprise, and I noticed that when I touched my hand to my head where I had been hit, it came away bloody. I looked up and there seemed to be twice as many boys as last time, and I would have sworn on Jupiter’s Stone that Marcus and Aulus had twins. This time, I was the one in trouble, but Vibius, instead of running away as he should have, let out a howl of outrage and charged directly at the other boys, picking up the stone that had hit me and hurling it as he charged. Caught off guard, the boys hesitated for a moment before they realized that they still outnumbered us. Vibius charged directly at Marcus, fists flailing, and the larger boy found himself trying to protect himself from my friend. This gave me time to gather my wits, pull myself to my feet and, within a few heartbeats, I hurled myself at Aulus, swinging wildly.
The resulting melee did not last long, but the outcome was such that neither Marcus, Aulus, nor any of the other boys bothered us ever again; in particular, I beat Aulus severely as a reminder that he had broken his oath. Whenever they saw us, they would steer a wide path around us, which amused Vibius and me every time it happened.
It was that battle that first got Vibius and me talking about the idea of joining the Legions. Like most boys, we idolized the Legions, and because there were a number of retired Legionaries in town and the nearby farms, we began pestering them about life in the army. Most of them were happy to talk about it, and we could tell they missed it. Some were not so happy, however, and we soon learned to avoid these dark and bitter men. Besides, we had no use for tales of woe; we wanted to hear only of adventures and battles, heroism and glory, which most of these men were happy to supply. We were relentless in our quest to learn as much as we could, and begged them to show us their gladii, pila, scuta, and the mementoes of their campaigns. We saw human teeth, strung together on a necklace, the owner of which claimed was one tooth from every man he had killed in battle. As we were to learn later, it was just as likely that he bought the necklace from another Legionary, or won it at dice, but at the time, we believed every word. We asked them to show their scars and tell us the stories behind them, and they had a rapt audience as they spun wild tales of charging elephants, scythed chariots mowing men down like wheat, and the brave Legionaries who brought all of their enemies crashing to defeat. Several of the Legionaries had served with Pompey Magnus, and it was clear that they still revered their general all these years later. At that time, Pompey was the First Man of Rome, and his former Legionaries basked in the reflected glow of his accomplishments. All of them had been triarii, or at least claimed to be, but when I boasted that one day I would be a triarii, they informed me that the army was no longer using the division of hastati, principes, triarii, velites, and the like. Now, you were either a Legionary or you were an auxiliary, the auxiliary being non-citizens. Both Vibius and I had been born Roman citizens, so that meant that we could serve in the Legions, which excited us immensely.
We soon found that the best place to find retired Legionnaires was at one of the local taverns, of which there were three in the town then. Although they were retired and supposed to be farmers, it seemed to me that most of the “farmers” spent the bulk of their time sitting with others like them, swapping stories of their time in the Legions. Just a few years before, when I was only six or seven, there was a great slave rebellion, led by a slave named Spartacus. One of the men in the town had been in the army led by Crassus that finally put down the revolt, and he told lurid tales of mass slaughter, vividly describing the sights and sounds of the final battle that saw the defeat of Spartacus. The man’s name was Tertorius, and Vibius and I could tell that, despite his hatred for the army of slaves, he had a grudging respect for Spartacus. He claimed to have been present nearby when Spartacus fell, slashing and killing a path through the Romans, all with the goal of getting to Crassus personally and killing him.
He never made it; he was cut down by members of Crassus’ bodyguard, but as Tertorius said, “He may have been a slave, but he certainly didn’t die like one.”
He shuddered as he said this, then hastily drained his cup of wine before calling for another. Tertorius seemed to be in a state of perpetual inebriation, and as much as we enjoyed his stories, both Vibius and I were looking for more than just tales; we wanted someone to show us how to BE a soldier.
The revolt of Sertorius had only been quelled a couple of years before, and although there was fighting all around the area where I grew up, it never touched our farm or the town. Several men in the region served with Sertorius, and once the rebellion was crushed by Pompey, and after the death of Sertorius, those who survived came back home to resume their lives. There was one man in particular, nicknamed Cyclops because, like Sertorius, he had only one eye, and was rumored to have been one of the greatest soldiers in Sertorius’ army, but unlike most of the other retired Legionnaires, he did not spend time in the taverns. He was of average height, and his dark hair was just beginning to show streaks of gray, and if one could look past the great, puckering hole where his eye had been, he could have been considered as handsome, with a fine aquiline nose and strong chin.
He was rarely seen in town, and it was only through a stroke of fate that Vibius and I got to meet him. It was from Cyclops, whose real name was Quintus Ausonius, that we learned the most about what it meant to be in the Legions. He had come to my father’s farm when he heard that our mule had died, and he had a couple for sale. Normally, Lucius would never allow me or either of my sisters to watch him conduct business, but this time was different for some reason. Lucius introduced me to Cyclops, whose good eye looked me up and down, as if he were appraising another mule he was thinking of buying. He did not offer his hand, but merely nodded at me once he had finished his inspection, and turned back to Lucius. I watched as Cyclops practically skinned my father alive on the deal, which raised Cyclops a great deal in my esteem. He seemed to sense the weakness in Lucius, and showed no mercy to him, arranging to take not only all of the surplus of that year’s crop, but the hand of my sister Livia, who had just turned thirteen years of age. Cyclops was a shrewd judge of character, that I saw immediately, because somehow he had divined that Lucius greatly treasured Livia, and not in the normal way that a father treasures a daughter. Valeria and I knew the things my father did to my younger sister, and I am ashamed to say that, while I was happy for Livia that she would be out of my father’s clutches, I was more worried about the fate of Valeria now that Livia was going to leave, and wished for that reason that my father had said no. For, although Valeria at this point was almost sixteen, and in my eyes just as beautiful as Livia, for some reason, my father never violated her the way he did Livia, or at least so I believed. At the time, my best surmise is that he knew how close we were and, being the coward that he was, he worried that one day I would become old enough and strong enough to exact vengeance upon him for hurting the one person I loved more than any other in this world. But that is just a guess; who knows what goes on in the minds of sad little men like Lucius?
But Lucius needed a mule more than he needed a bedmate. Perhaps in his thinking, he knew that Valeria would be a fitting substitute. For Livia, her fate was a mixed blessing indeed; while she was even happier about escaping Lucius, the very sight of Cyc
lops, which struck fear into the hearts of grown men on the battlefield, had to be all the more terrifying for my sister. For his part, Cyclops appeared no more pleased than if he had purchased a fine breeding stallion to make more mules, but as we learned, his looks were deceiving. Although he was a fierce warrior, he turned out to be a very loving husband for Livia, and though she was destined to die as my mother did, bearing a child for Cyclops, the years that she lived with him were the happiest of her life. Livia had not experienced her womanly flow yet, so the deal was made that upon the onset of her monthly time, only then would she come to Cyclops.
That event happened some three months later, and for reasons I can only guess at, I was given the task by Lucius of escorting her to the farm of Cyclops. Perhaps he was afraid that he would have second thoughts, or that somehow he would betray his true feelings for Livia and expose the fact that he thought of her as a lover, not a daughter. Whatever the reason, I was as happy as I always was when presented with an excuse to leave our farm. The way to Cyclops’ farm passed through the town, so I collected Vibius as we passed through, and we began talking excitedly of the chance to talk to Cyclops, completely oblivious to my poor sister’s state of anxiety. I am afraid that we did not help matters much, talking as we were about some of the bloodier exploits that had been attributed to him, so that by the time we arrived at his farm, Livia was in a state of acute panic and fear.
The farm was small, but the property was very well maintained, with the outbuildings that housed the animals and the feed sturdily built and in good repair. While Vibius and Livia waited out on the road, with Livia holding all of her worldly possessions, I went to the house to announce our arrival and our purpose. I must admit, I was somewhat nervous as well; after all, this was a very adult thing that I was doing, and I was still just shy of eleven years old.