by Griff Hosker
The aide knocked on the door and waited until the Legate said, “Enter.”
Making sure he saluted correctly the immaculately turned out young officer said, “The gate house reports a column of Roman cavalry approaching.”
“Good, about time. I will go to watch them ride in. That’s how you assess a unit by the way they march!”
As soon as he had seen the huge fortress in the distance, with the camps clustered around it Marius had ordered his men to sit up and to ride in pairs. He now knew that the Legate would be watching them as they rode in and he was determined not to give him any cause for displeasure. He had pushed the ala on to reach it before dark and he had succeeded but the horses were lathered and looked tired. He sighed to himself. There were some things he could not control. Riding along the road flanked by the camps Marius realised that the best spots had already been taken; at first glance it looked like they would be a little too close to the river for his liking. He saw auxiliary infantry recognising Gauls and Spaniards but he could see no cavalry. He knew that meant even more pressure on his untried ala.
Entering the gate he saw, immediately, the glowering face of the Legate flanked by his aide and Camp Prefect. He saw the Legate speak to his aide who scurried off. Halting before the Legate Marius resisted the urge to turn and watch his men line up behind him but he had faith in the officers. They had proved themselves time and again on the journey from the east; he could trust them, even Murgus. When there was silence behind him he saluted and said, “First Pannonian Ala, Prefect Marius Ulpius Proculus commanding.”
There was silenced and the Legate approached Marius and then walked behind him to inspect the lines of troopers. After what seemed an age he returned to his post, now rejoined by his aide. “Commanding what Prefect? A rabble? A mob? A horde? What?”
Marius was confused and he risked a glance behind. The men were sitting straight. Their faces were forward and their armour was new. What had he to complain about? “I am sorry sir, I am confused. They are Pannonians…”
“They were Pannonians. Now they are Roman soldiers and they will look like them. I want the facial hair removing and their hair cut appropriately.”
Marius heard the murmuring from behind him and he roared, “Silence in the ranks!”
“But sir their hair is part of their identity. I thought auxiliaries were allowed a little leeway in such matters.”
Corbulo pointed an imperious finger at Marius. “Prefect, join me in the Praetorium.” As he passed the Campo Prefect Marius saw the slightest shake of the head and he followed the smug looking aide up the steps to the office. As soon as the door was closed an angry Legate turned on Marius. “I do not argue with junior officers in front of the men. This is my army and I say that your men will shave and have their hair cut and I will hear no more about leeway. What other Legates allow is their business but I will have discipline!” He was shorter than the Prefect and when he approached him with wagging finger he had to look up at the cavalryman. Proculus thought it must have looked ridiculous. “I know about you and your family. I know how lucky you were and I will be watching you. One mistake Prefect and your luck will run out. We have no time to shear all of your animals tonight but as a mark of our intent the camp tonsor is expecting your first men as an example to the rest.”
There was no arguing with such a martinet and Marius saluted and left. His men were as he had left them. He went to Flavius, “Have the First Turma remain behind. Chosen Man Cava, join them. Sextus take the rest of the ala and build a camp. I will join you shortly.”
Wolf and Cava exchanged a look while the rest of the turma were just confused at the turn of events. Why had they been selected? Neither of the leaders thought it boded well and when the Prefect spoke with them they knew that it was not good news. “I am sorry lads but one turma is going to be shaved tonight. You are the First Turma and you have shown yourselves to be loyal. I know it is hard but…”
The Legate’s voice boomed from the top of the steps. “Just give the order Prefect. Now!”
His eyes pleading Marius mounted his horse, “Follow me.” He set off behind the smug aide. He hoped that they would follow but there was no guarantee.
Behind him he heard Cava say, “Come on lads. At least this way we’ll get rid of the lice and we don’t want the fat bastard upset do we?” Marius smiled, Cava had spoken in their own language and no-one else would understand. The sound of the hooves on the parade ground told him that they had obeyed his orders and he breathed a sigh of relief. The tonsor was waiting eagerly. He was a legionary who earned extra money and the thought of shearing the barbarians appealed to him. He stood at his door as they dismounted. They waited for Flavius and the Prefect. Wolf asked, “Why must we have our hair cut sir? It will not make us better warriors.”
“The General thinks it will.”
“Come on then ladies, do no be shy.”
Cava walked up to the legionary. Cava was a big, well built warrior and he had learned enough of the Roman words, thanks to Aulus Murgus to make himself understood. “Listen to me any blood and we will see yours too now cut mine first!”
He sat himself down and said a mental prayer to the gods of his family to forgive him. Wolf and the others watched as the hair was swiftly cut. They had never seen hair cut before and did not know how quick it could be. Cava changed before their eyes. When the tonsor put soap on his face and took the sharp blade they were tempted to rush forward and stop their comrade being tortured. Flavius saw the movement. “It is fine lads, it just makes the shaving easier.” They had all seen the officers shaving themselves but they had just used water and a sharpened dagger.
The shaving took longer but when his face was dried they did not recognise Cava and Gerjen almost tried to run out, but the Prefect restrained him. “He is still the same Cava, just a little cleaner. Tell them Cava.”
The Chosen Man gave a half smile and rubbed his hand around his face. “Well I feel lighter anyway but this feels cold. It doesn’t hurt lads and I will watch this prick in case he gets sloppy.” He then glared at the legionary, knelt down and picked up the hair.
“What the fuck…”
Cava stood and put his face close to the soldier. “A prick like you will not understand but I will bury this and when I go to meet my ancestors it will be waiting!”
Soon they all looked the same and they stared at each other as though trying to reassure themselves that they were the same men. Each clutched the precious hair which had cascaded to the floor. “Well done. You have shown yourselves to be brave warriors. When we ride back into camp do so proudly.”
“But sir what if the men laugh at us?”
“Ignore them for by this time tomorrow they will all look the same.”
As they left and the legionary began to clean up he looked after them and shook his head. “Bloody barbarians! They’ll be back to collecting heads next.”
Riding back in the darkening evening they all felt naked, as though they had no clothes on. They had to ride through the other camps before they saw the sign of the bull at their gates. The whole of the ala, officers included watched in silence as the seventeen shorn men rode in to their camps. Panyvadi’s fears had been groundless as even Sura and his cronies stared in horror at the vision of their future. As the ala went back to their duties Flavius turned to Marius. “I don’t think it will be easy in the morning sir. I saw some very belligerent looks. It’s a shame, all that good work undone because the Legate wants them to look like his legionaries.”
Marius held up a warning hand. “Be careful with your tongue Flavius. This Legate regards any criticism as treason. Let us see what the morning brings and deal with tas best we can.”
Wolf and his turma went straight into their tents. The last thing they wanted was to be stared at. Gerjen shook his head. “I thought it was good to join the Romans but I do not like this. I feel as though someone has taken my face from me and given me another’s.”
Darvas laughed, “I never knew y
ou were such a pretty boy Gerjen.”
Gerjen leapt at Darvas with his dagger in his hand. Wolf smashed his own hand down on to the back of Gerjen’s making him drop it. “Stop this now! You have both taken two oaths, one to the standard and one to Rome. That means that we do whatever we are ordered to. It is as simple as that. We may not like everything we do but did we like everything at home? Is this not a better life? Here we serve the wolf, “he pointed at the standard in the corner, “and that is enough. The Decurion told me that Rome was founded by two boys who were suckled by a wolf. Is this not a sign? I do not like this bare and itchy face and I miss my hair hanging down but I will get used to it. We all will.”
Sura and the other disenchanted Pannonians whispered in the dark. “I am not having my hair cut. I will look like a woman. These Romans all smell like women and I do not wish to stay in their army.”
“But where will you go?”
Sura pointed beyond the tent walls to the north. “We will cross the river and join the tribes who fight the Romans. We came to fight and to kill. We can continue to fight the Romans.” He ran his hand down his scarred face. “I still remember the Roman who did this to me and I will have my revenge. Are you with me?”
There was a murmur of ayes and one lone voice said. “I will stay. I like this Roman army. May the Allfather be with you.”
Sura turned to the man who crouched at the rear of the tent. Smiling he put his left hand on his shoulder and murmured, “And may you be with the Allfather soon.” The pugeo sliced across the man’s windpipe and he died silently.
Sura and his men slipped out of the tent. While his warriors slipped to the entrance of the camp and the guards, Sura sought the others who did not like the Romans. Twenty warriors made their way to the entrance where Quintus was on duty. The smiling Decurion spoke to the two men on guard at the entrance and then went on his patrol around the other sentries positioned in the middle of each wall. As soon as he had disappeared the twenty eight men with Sura surged forward and overpowered the two young guards who died as silently as the single protestor had done. The night was silent as they crept towards the horse lines. There were three sentries there and one of them managed to cry out before being silenced.
Quintus heard the cry and, knowing how close they were to the river shouted, “To arms! To arms!”
Sura and his men were, first and foremost Pannonians which meant they needed no saddles. They each grabbed a handful of mane and hauled themselves onto the backs of the horses. They kicked on across the open ground to the Rhenus, dark and menacing in the distance. They did not pause at the river but leapt in and let their horses swim, frantically across. By the time Quintus and the other guards had reached the horse lines all that they could see was the vague shape of dark bodies slipping across the water.
Marius and the other officers saw the dead bodies and their first reaction was that the Chauci had come across the river to steal horses. As they checked the bodies of the dead Flavius glanced up and saw the troopers emerging, armed from their tents. He pointed to an empty area of tents. “Sir, there are no men in those tents, perhaps they have been killed.”
“You and Publius check them. Sextus, have the men line up outside their tents. We will have a roll call.”
Soldiers from the other camps began to arrive, having heard the commotion. “Whoever it was has fled across the river!”
The other officers nodded. “We will double the guards around our camps. It is too dark to pursue them across the river. What damage have they done?”
“At least five men killed and a number of horses stolen.”
Flavius came back; his face displaying his anger. “It was not Chauci. It was Sura and his men. They have murdered one man.”
“Damn the Legate and his orders. This is the hair cutting isn’t it?”
Decurion Murgus shook his head, “No sir. These buggers would have run at some point. In a way it is better that it was now rather than later. This way the bad apples have all gone and good riddance to them.”
“The trouble is Aulus that they know our commands and our orders. They may come back to haunt us.”
The next day the ala was paraded by Prefect Proculus. The First Turma stood out as different with their shaved faces and short hair but Marius was in no mood for truculence from anyone. He had yet to make his report to the Legate but he knew his superior would not be pleased. He could afford no more arguments about the tonsor.
“Last night six of our comrades were murdered by Sura and thirty other warriors. I do not know why they ran but I suspect they were not happy about the loss of their hair. But they took an oath.”He paused as the word ’oath’ echoed around the camp. “You all took an oath. You will all have you faces shaved today and your hair cut because you are my men and you obey my orders. If any of you cannot obey that order then leave now. I do not want you in my ala.”
The officers looked at each other with a worried look on their face. With the mood of their men the Pannonian ala could cease to exist if they chose to leave. They watched as the men peered at the warriors around them.
Cava stepped forwards. “Sir the First Turma have obeyed the order. While the rest make up their mind shall we see to the horses? We all want to stay in this army.”
Smiling, Marius said, “Carry on Decurion Cava!”
The men of the First Turma proudly marched out and Wolf murmured to Cava. “Did I hear right? Are you a Decurion now?”
“Unless he made a mistake I guess so. We’ll find out soon enough.”
Prefect Proculus waited until the turma had exited the camp. “Well? Any man who wishes to leave, step forwards.” Not a man moved. They all kept their faces forward. “Good. Then the second Turma will march to the fortress followed by the other turmae in order. Carry on Decurion Murgus.”
As the men marched off Flavius stood next to the Prefect. “That was close sir. I thought they would have all left.”
“I think they were waiting for one man to do it first. Thanks to Cava they had the model of what to do. “
“Did you mean to promote him?”
“Not necessarily today but we need officers who can lead. I only have six of you and that is not enough is it? I just thought it would make the point that we reward loyalty. You take over here while I go and face the wrath of the Legate.”
“I don’t envy you.”
“Well at least once I have received my bollocking we can go no lower. The only way is up.”
“I have no idea why you have been sent here Prefect. As far as I can see you are more of a liability than an asset. I do not have a full ala. Your men are disobedient and now, I find, murderers who have swelled the ranks of the very enemy they were sent to fight. Have I omitted anything?”
Marius kept a stony face, as much as he wanted to punch the smug faced aide who grinned at him from behind the Legate’s back he would have to take his medicine silently and bite back any retort. “No sir.”
The Legate seemed satisfied with the acceptance of his censure. “And they are being shorn?”
“Even as we speak sir.”
“Good! Then you can begin your patrols. Your men are to patrol this side of the river from here to the coast and then up the river towards Novaesium. I want early warning of any movement by the Chauci. I want to launch a raid next week to destroy their capital and I do not want them to be aware of our preparation. Clear?”
“Yes sir.”
As he left the office the Camp Prefect, Gaius Bassus was waiting for him. “Do you mind if I walk with you?”
“I would be delighted although I feel very much like a leper at the moment.”
“Oh don’t worry about the Legate. He is a good general once you get used to his funny little ways.” Marius stopped and gave him a puzzled look. Bassus shrugged and smiled, “Well eccentric then. The important point is that you are the only cavalry and when we attack next week your men will have to swim the river and protect the pontoon bridge my engineers are constructing.”
“I wondered how we would get across.”
“The Gallic cohort will be ferried across by the Classis Germania and once they are there then your job will be easier but you will have to cross the river while they are harassing you. It will be hard.”
“Unless we go at night while they aren’t watching.”
“That is a little risky isn’t it?”
“I would have said yes but for the fact that thirty of my men did it last night to escape us.”
“I heard.”
“I suspect we will never live it down.”
“It will be forgotten quickly once you perform on the battlefield. So you could do it at night then?”
“First we will need to practise swimming. We will be wearing armour and we have never done it.”
“Why not see the Navarchus; if he placed his ships down stream they could rescue any of your man swept away.”
“Would he do that?”
“His priority is the protection of his ships. This is their main base. By destroying the Chauci base his ships are safer.”
“Why didn’t the Legate explain that to me?”
“I told you he is eccentric; a brilliant general but he only rates the legions. You auxiliaries are still barbarians.” He glanced up as the third turma rode out looking glum and without their hair. “Believe it or not that will help to convince him that they are Romans.”