Fallen Legion

by David Thompson

“That’s a pity. I’ve come a very long way to see him. I have something for him,” Marcus said, sliding Domitian’s message across the counter with a slight smile.

  With only a slight inclination of his head, the bartender glanced at the paper, then up at Marcus. He studied Marcus’ face for a second, then nodded and gestured to a door behind the bar. When he spoke again, it was with an air that was only slightly friendlier.

  “This way, please.”

  Marcus followed the bartender, closing the door behind them. The pair walked in silence down a set of stairs into the inn’s basement. Unable to further mask his confusion, Marcus broke the silence which had fallen between them.

  “Where in Hades are you taking me?”

  There was no reply forthcoming. Instead, the bartender pushed aside a cask of wine on the west wall of the basement. Seemingly at random, he tapped three of the wall’s bricks in quick succession, then pressed a fourth brick deep into the wall. As the brick slid into the wall, the wall itself - or rather, a door-shaped section of the wall - pushed inward, revealing a corridor beyond. The pair continued onward into the corridor, the door slamming shut behind them. Their trek soon ended, however, as the corridor opened up into a small chamber. The room was windowless, illuminated only by several candles placed strategically throughout the room. The only furnishings were a half dozen chairs set around a simple wooden table. The bartender motioned for Marcus to sit, and he complied.

  “As you have undoubtedly guessed, I am Vito. You will wait here while I summon Domitian. There is nothing more you need know for now, save what Domitian himself might tell you.”

  Without waiting for a response, Vito spun on his heel and departed. Kicking his feet up onto the table, Marcus leaned back in his chair and began to whistle an old marching cadence.

  ***

  It took more than an hour for the basement room’s hidden door to swing open again. The door’s creaking caused Marcus to snap to attention, moving from his reclined position to half-sitting, half-crouching. His tension was unnecessary, however, as a familiar face stepped over the threshold and into the room. The tall, heavily muscled, clean shaven bald man was dressed in a simple worker’s tunic, but his commanding presence betrayed the obviously adopted image. Marcus grinned broadly, reaching out to eagerly shake the hand of the new arrival.

  “Domitian Caelius,” he exclaimed with a booming laugh, “you old bastard, I haven’t seen you in ages!”

  Domitian smiled reservedly. “It has indeed been too long, my friend. You have my apologies for any discomfort you have incurred during your journey or while you have been waiting, but I have called you here on a matter of the utmost urgency. I apologize also for all the secrecy involved, but you will soon understand the need for a certain level of discretion.”

  “I admit, my curiosity has been piqued…though I suppose that is obvious, else I would never have bothered travelling this far. So, what business requires the aid of a disgraced soldier? Perhaps you have a space on the gallows which absolutely must be filled, or require a buffoon for a travelling comedic troupe?”

  “My friend, you are no more disgraced than I. What happened at Agrippinensis was a terrible tragedy which we both tried to prevent, as did Exentrius. We failed and have all been held accountable. It is now time for those of us who still draw breath to move on, and it is in that spirit that I have summoned you here. As for the particulars, those will have to wait until this evening. Upon news of your arrival, I contacted several of my associates to convene a gathering here in a few hours. In the meantime, I would daresay that your voyage must have left you parched. By all means, let us retire to a private dining room above and slake our thirst with some of the province’s finest wine.”

  Marcus’ face flushed red, and he cleared his throat before responding hesitantly. His response was in part a measure of grief for Exentrius Molondranae, who had been his successor as the commander of the Legion 1 Minervia, and partly an instinctive response to the embarrasment of remembering his own personal problems. “Actually, old friend, I have resolved to no longer touch alcohol. In my grief following Lucia's death, I overindulged for some time, and have decided to avoid the problems that come with immoderation by avoiding such libations entirely.”

  Domitian nodded sympathetically. “Forgive me, Marcus. Had I known, I would not have extended that offer.”

  “Worry not. You had no way of knowing the ills that have befallen me of late.”

  “Perhaps not, but I should have suspected. What happened to Lucia was terrible, and repercussions were inevitable.” A sly smile danced over Domitian’s face. “I believe I can make you a better offer than alcohol. Wait here for a moment.”

  Domitian left the room, though he left the door slightly ajar. Marcus could hear Domitian and Vito in the hallway beyond, but their voices were too quiet for him to discern exactly what was being said. After a moment both Vito and Domitian re-entered the room, Vito dragging a bound and chained Sicambrii warrior behind him. Shoving the furious, snarling hulk into a chair, Vito nodded slyly at Marcus and left the room.

  “This fellow,” Domitian said, “had the misfortune of drinking himself unconscious in the bar upstairs last week. One of Vito’s contacts identified him as one of the tribals responsible for sacking the residential areas of the city, and Vito decided to hold him for safekeeping. Consider his life a gift - a reward for your promise to attend our little gathering this evening.”

  “You want me to kill him, then?” Marcus seemed nonplussed.

  “Not kill him, of necessity, though you are certainly free to do so if such is your desire. Do as you will - enslave him, kill him, free him…it makes no difference to me. He is a gift freely given, but before you decide what to do with him do not forget that there is a very good possibility that he is one of the ones responsible for the murder of your innocent wife. One of the ones who took his dagger and plunged it,” Domitian pulled a dagger from the folds of his tunic and stabbed it into the table, “into her heart. Or maybe,” his voice dropped to a throaty whisper as Domitian crouched down beside Marcus, “maybe he is one of the heathen barbarians who held her down while she was tortured and raped. Listen to your heart, old friend. Does it tell you that you should allow this beast to live, or that you should visit upon him the rightful vengeance of a soldier - and a man - wronged?”

  The warrior snarled and spat at Marcus, uttering a stream of guttural words so unintelligible that it was impossible to tell whether he was speaking Latin or some native barbaric tongue. Beady brown eyes filled with hatred glared out at Marcus from beneath the warrior’s filthy black hair.

  Gesturing to the dagger buried in the table, Domitian continued his rhetoric. “In the end, whether or not he was directly involved in Lucia’s death is a moot point. He is our enemy. Given the chance, he would undoubtedly seize that dagger and take your life. Does he not deserve the same treatment from you?”

  Marcus rose and turned his back on the prisoner. “I must confess something, Domitian. In addition to swearing off alcohol, I have made a vow not to raise a weapon in anger again. I will not kill this man. I cannot…not without violating a sacred vow. I have seen what comes from the implements of war, and it is not good.”

  “And shall your slain wife receive no vengeance? Would you condemn her soul to wander the depths and breadth of the world, unable to rest in the comforting grip of Hades? They killed her, man! Do not fail her a second time! Do not fail us. You once paid homage, with me, to the Divine Lord of Battle, our Lord and Master, Mars. Will you now betray him by refusing to wield those same weapons that he has sanctioned for our use? Will you betray your friends, family, and Empire, and all to spare the life of this damnable barbarian?”

  The familiar sensation of rage boiling the very blood in his veins twisted Marcus’ face into a cruel grimace. His voice echoed hollowly, devoid of all human emotion. “Release him from his chains. Do it now.”

  “What? Why?”

  “You said that his life was a gift to
me. So release him, and leave the dagger where it is. I will not harm a defenseless man, but if he is truly the enemy you claim that he is, he will indeed snatch up that knife. So release him and let us see what he does.”

  “Have you gone mad? You are unarmed! He will - “

  “Do it now!” Marcus bellowed, cutting Domitian off in mid-sentence. Startled, Domitian swiftly obeyed, opening the lock which held the chains. The Sicambrii warrior burst into motion, snatching the dagger from the table and hurling himself at Marcus. Marcus whirled around with dazzling speed, smashing his backhanded fist into the warrior’s jaw with a sickening bone crushing crunch and knocked the dazed warrior to his knees. While his opponent struggled to regain his footing, Marcus delivered a powerful kick to his abdomen. The knife fell from his hand and slid across the floor. The warrior’s sudden lack of a weapon did not, however, stop Marcus’ attack. All semblance of sanity seemed to flee from him; his vision blurred as he rained down blow after blow upon the warrior. Domitian only watched on as Marcus beat the man. Even when the warrior had completely stopped moving, Marcus delivered over a dozen more blows to the his head before his frenzy finally subsided. He rose to his feet, kicking the warrior’s corpse one last time. The Sicambrii’s blood dripped off Marcus’ knuckles and face to form small puddles on the floor.

  “And what of your vow now, Marcus?”

  “Do not mistake my actions for a violation of my vow. I still shall not draw a weapon…but neither shall I stand idly by and allow the killers of innocent Romans to run free. Do not think me a pacifist, Domitian, unless you want to make a grave mistake. It is simply the manufactured implements of destruction that I now find myself unwilling to wield.”

  Domitian smiled. “That is precisely what I wanted to hear, old friend. Come, let us get you cleaned up before the meeting. I think you shall appreciate our mutual goals.”

  ***

  Day gradually gave way to night, and Marcus found himself once again accompanying Domitian to the secret meeting room beneath The Countryside Inn. This time, however, the cramped room was not empty. Three figures sat in the chairs around the table, and papers were strewn across the table’s surface. Marcus recognized Vito as one of the seated figures. The second figure was a massive hulk of a man, larger and heavier even than Domitian. He was clad entirely in black, though Marcus could spot the hilts of several weapons peeking through the otherwise seamless outfit. His dark hair was cut close to the scalp, and cold grey eyes stared unwaveringly at a particular sheet of paper in front of him. The man’s smooth skin - at least, what little of it was visible - was marred only by a scar which ran down the length of his face from his left temple to his chin.

  “Marcus, I believe you have already met our compatriot Vito. Allow me to introduce our other companions. This gentleman,” Domitian said, gesturing to the large man, “is known as Vincenzo. And this fine lady to his right is Alexandra…a local Oracle of our divine lord Mars. It is her guidance, by and large, which has brought us here today.”

  The woman Domitian introduced as Alexandra was a stunningly beautiful woman, and if beauty was a prerequisite of serving the Gods, she was well worthy of her divine profession. She was wearing a flowing white dress so simple and brilliant that it shone even in the darkness of that subterranean room. A mass of curly dark blonde hair spilled over her shoulders, and soft green eyes peered demurely at Marcus. Upon her introduction, she smiled and nodded demurely in Marcus’ direction.

  “You are all familiar with Marcus,” Domitian said, addressing the group, “so I believe that no further introductions are required. Marcus, please take a seat and we shall attempt to satisfy your curiosity about why we have asked you here.”

  “A wonderful idea,” Marcus said, “as I have begun to grow impatient waiting for my purpose here to be revealed.”

  “Well then,” Domitian said with a hearty laugh, “let us put your curiosity to a rest once and for all. To get straight to the point and omitting all extraneous details, we are here because we all share a single purpose. For over a year now we have had to tolerate the unjust rule of a pack of traitors.” He grimaced at the word ‘traitors’, pausing his speech only long enough to spit on the floor in disgust. “And why have we had to bear such an indignity? Because the cowardly swine are backed by the muscle of filthy barbarians unfit to even wash the feet of the most lowly Roman citizens! These…creatures should consider themselves blessed if they meet with no worse a fate than to serve as our slaves, and yet on the very streets above us they bully and murder their betters every single day! And so it is that we,” Domitian’s voice dropped once again into a throaty whisper, “we are here to bring that to an end. Emperor Trajan has granted these fools clemency only because his legions are currently occupied in Dacia and he is worried that the barbarian horde would advance too quickly for him to crush their ranks before the advanced beyond this province. Enough, I say! It is time that we strike back in the name of our fallen comrades! By the gods, we are here to make them rue the day that they sided with that dog Julianus Vestatian!”

  As Domitian’s last vitriolic word echoed and the room faded into silence, Vincenzo began to laugh. “And suppose that we carry through with what you suggest, and succeed at striking down the pustulent, carrion-swilling beasts that now rule this province. Who shall rule in their stead? Would you, Domitian, seek to don the mantle of rulership, or would you simply leave an empty seat in the governor’s chambers to await whatever warlord arises in Julianus’ stead?”

  Vito slowly rose to his feet, smiling quietly. “That, gentlemen - and lady - is what brings us together today. Thanks to the divine wisdom of Mars channelled through Alexandra, not to mention the hard work of my associates, we have discovered a very important secret. It seems that the Sicambrii have finally tracked down and captured Antonius Ceresius.”

  Marcus’ breath hitched in his chest. The possibility that Antonius Ceresius was still alive was hardly enough for him to bear - if there was a single man in the entire world that Marcus hated more than Julianus Vestatian, it was Ceresius. To be entirely truthful, Marcus placed as much of the blame for the province's current state of affairs on Antonius Ceresius' shoulders as he did on the shoulders of Julianus Vestatian. Vestatian was, after all, nothing more than a power-hungry tyrant. Nothing more could be expected of such a man than one could expect from a barbarian - Ceresius, on the other hand, had known well enough that he would not be qualified to assume leadership of Marcus' men at Agrippinensis, but that knowledge had not been enough to stop him from adopting a course of action which was nothing short of suicidal.

  Seeming to not even notice Marcus’ discomfort, Vito continued his exposition. “Further, we have been able to discover where the former Governor is being held. Although an outright assault would prove disastrous, we believe that it would be possible to enact a rescue operation on a somewhat smaller scale. With the rightful Governor of this province free, it would be possible to marshal sufficient support amongst the people of our fair province to overthrow the usurpers who currently hold the reigns of power.”

  Nodding sagely in agreement, Domitian broke into the conversation once again. “There you have it. The reason for our little conclave, if you will. Every one of you has been selected because you are the best at what you do. Vito has a wide network of informants; very little goes on in this province that he is not aware of. When stealth is required, Vincenzo is unstoppable. And as you are all undoubtedly aware, Marcus here is the most ferocious warrior in the known world. Not only that, but we are both seasoned veteran leaders of armies. With that sort of command experience and Alexandra’s connection to the will of the gods, we have the beginnings of a resistance capable of accomplishing our goals.”

  “No.” Marcus rose to his feet, unable to conceal his anger any further. “You ask too much. Ceresius is as culpable in the province’s state of affairs as Vestatian. I shall not risk my life or the lives of any others in order to save his. The goal of ridding the world of the entire hated Sica
mbrii tribe is laudable, and I wish you luck with it. However, I have sworn a vow to never again draw a sword for the purpose of slaughter, and I shall not abandon a vow for the sake of one so unworthy as Antonius Ceresius.”

  “I had heard that you have gone soft,” Vincenzo scoffed, “but I had not believed it. Now I see that the rumours are true - you are nothing more than a coward. Go. Run along, weakling. Perhaps the women of the city will find some room for you in their sewing circles.”

  Very slowly, Marcus bent down until he was face to face with Vincenzo. When he spoke, it was in a low, threatening tone. “You would do well to watch your words more carefully, whelp. You may do well cavorting in the shadows, but here in the light I could crush your throat and choke the life out of your body. A coward is the man who strikes from the darkness, afraid to even show his face to his victim. Even without a weapon, I could look you square in the eyes while I choke the life from your body.”

  “Gentlemen,” Alexandra said calmly, “please do not quarrel. As Domitian has said, we all share a common goal here. Marcus, please realize that no matter what Antonius Ceresius has done, he is the rightfully appointed governor of this province - and furthermore, he is the only suitable alternative to the current rulers. Once Ceresius has been restored to power, you will be able to petition the Emperor to have a new governor appointed, but we must take our plans one step at a time. Please, at least consider the long term ramifications of what you do next.”

  “Well spoken, my lady,” Marcus replied. “However, rest assured that I have already examined my conscience in this matter. No matter how well intentioned any plan undertaken to remove the Sicambrii and Vestatian may be, I cannot condone the possibility of placing Ceresius back in power - even if it is only until the Emperor has the opportunity to replace him. Thank you for your invitation here, Domitian, but I am afraid that I must decline. However, you can rest assured that no matter how you all decide to proceed, I will keep what has been said here tonight in the utmost discretion.”