Fallen Legion

by David Thompson

  "Huh? What did you say?"

  "The Sicambrii you sent to retrieve Mrs. Ulpius, sir. I said that I'm sure they will be back here at any moment. You seem preoccupied with something, and I can only assume that their mission is what is of such great concern to you."

  "Yes," Polonius said. "Well, let's hope so. The Governor himself is watching us very closely, and if we don't bring him some answers by the end of the night, he'll have both our heads on pikes outside the city walls."

  As if on cue, three hollow knocks resounded throughout the room. The Seargent stood and whirled around, startled by the noise at the door. With a nod from Polonius, he strode to the door and slid open the peephole. He looked through the small opening, then addressed his superior officer.

  "It's Gualdamanus, sir. Shall I let him in?"

  Captain Auroram nodded impatiently, and the Seargent slid open the door's deadbolts. As the last deadbolt was pulled open and the Seargent pulled the door open a crack, a large roundish object flew through the opening and rolled across the office floor, leaving a sickly trail of brownish-red liquid behind.

  "Gualdamanus," the Seargent whispered fearfully. His hand immediately dropped to the sword at his side, attempting to pull the weapon from its scabbard. Such efforts were futile, however - the door was flung open violently, revealing an apparition barely recognizable as Marcus. Dried and drying blood covered him from head to toe, dripping from the ridges of his armour and the blade of his sword. His eyes glowed inhumanly, and a twisted smile decorated his face. Marcus leapt forward as the door swung open, hacking viciously at the Seargent. His blade nearly took the Seargent's head off, cleaving through skin and muscle right down to bone. Marcus kicked the door shut behind him and slammed one of the deadbolts shut, then advanced on the unarmed Captain Auroram. He stopped several feet away from the astonished officer, levelling his sword at the man's throat. The captain recovered from his astonishment enough to comprehend what was going on around him, and stared up at Marcus in shock and dawning recognition.

  "M...Marcus Ulpius. But you're -"

  "In prison? Hardly," Marcus said with a look of wild savagery in his eyes.

  "What is going on? You wear the uniform of a General," the Captain said, "but you were stripped of your rank after your army was defeated at Agrippinensis."

  "I was stripped of nothing by anyone with true authority," Marcus spat. "Julianus Vestatian declared all soldiers who did not swear fealty to him to be stripped of rank, but the word of a traitor carries no sway with my lawful appointment."

  "I would be careful who you call traitor," Captain Auroram said. "You are the one who has been convicted of treason against the lawful provincial government, while Governor Vestatian has been granted authority to rule from Emperor Trajan himself."

  "You know as well as I do that Vestatian was only given that authority because the Emperor's Legions were not available to crush his forces. Vestatian is a traitor, pure and simple - as are you for supporting him. Your time of reckoning has come."

  "Do your worst," Captain Auroram said with a laugh. "I'm not afraid of death, and if you kill me, hundreds more await to take my place."

  "Who said anything about killing you? There are worse fates," Marcus said, "than dying. And I wouldn't place too much faith in that estimation of the numbers of the city guard...it seems that their numbers have been culled."

  "What?"

  "Surely you didn't think that your guards let me in here willingly, did you? It is their blood that stains my skin, and it shall soon be mingled with your own.

  "You know, the funny thing is that I was tempted to give you and your men a chance to surrender, even after I was arrested and tortured under the watchful eyes of your subordinates. Can you think of what may have happened in the last few hours to make me change my mind about that?"

  "I...I'm not sure what you mean," Captain Auroram stammered.

  "I think you know exactly what I mean," Marcus said. "Think hard. What could possibly have transpired that might enrage me sufficiently to have me decimate your forces and confront you in this matter? What could be the cause of a man's fury that he is willing to take such a chance?"

  "Your wife," the Captain whispered. His knees weakened and nearly buckled as he realized that his plans had been discovered. "You know we ordered her to be captured."

  "Ah, so you do know what I mean. Yes, Captain, my wife. Here's a funny fact about me: I don't mind that Vestatian has ordered me captured or killed on sight. I wouldn't even be surprised if a dozen Sicambrii broke down my door in the middle of the night, looking to take me into custody. We are enemies - that is what enemies do. Even the torture I endured at the hands of your men...even that I expect. Such is the life of a soldier.

  "But my wife," Marcus growled, "is not a soldier. She is not part of any conflict, save that she stands by my side. Even worse for you, she is a member of the Olympian clergy - an Oracle. You had to know that, Captain. She is the only Oracle in the city, after all. Now, put that pathetic, tiny little brain of yours to use, Captain, and answer me this: what should be done to the man ordered the rape and capture of an innocent woman - a woman who is not only pure and innocent, but a member of the clergy, and the wife of a soldier loyal to the Roman Empire? What fate would you expect such a man to meet?"

  "Execution," Captain Auroram said gravely. He had not realized the severity of his conduct until that very moment. Ordering Alexandra's capture had seemed a natural course of action, and giving the Sicambrii permission to have their way with her had seemed like the best way to raise their interest in performing their duties.

  "Execution? Yes, that is one possibility," Marcus said. "However, I will not be so kind as that. No, that would be far too easy for you. I have a much, much better idea."

  Marcus stepped backward until he was beside the corpse of the Seargent of the Night Watch. He knelt down by the corpse and pulled the Seargent's dagger from his belt, keeping a careful eye on Captain Auroram to ensure that the officer did not attempt to escape or reach for a weapon.

  "My idea, you see," Marcus said, slipping the dagger into his belt and retrieving a length of rope from a pouch at his side, "is to enact a sort of poetic justice. Tie yourself up with this rope. If you don't do it, and do it properly, then I will. Trust me, you don't want that."

  He tossed the length of rope at Captain Auroram. Burning with humiliation, the officer did as Marcus instructed and tied himself to his chair, pulling the knots tight. It was a difficult and awkward job, but he was able to perform it with admirable dexterity.

  "Good. Now," Marcus said, approaching the restrained officer, "my idea is quite simple. What is the most appropriate punishment for one who gives his men an order which violates all sense of moral conduct that can be imagined? The obvious answer - obvious to me, at least - is that the offending organ should be removed."

  Captain Auroram's eyes widened as he realized what Marcus had in store for him, but it was too late. Marcus grabbed hold of the Captain's jaw and held it fast, forcing the Captain's mouth open wide. The officer struggled with all his might, but his restraints held fast as Marcus inserted the dagger he had retrieved from the deceased Seargeant into the Captain's mouth. The screams which Captain Auroram uttered were horrific, but were garbled and distorted by the blood which filled his throat as Marcus slowly and carefully sliced out the Captain's tongue. When he was finally satisfied that the organ was nearly removed, Marcus set the dagger down on Captain Auroram's desk and reached into his mouth, getting a firm grip on the Captain's tongue. He yanked the small muscle outward, ripping the last remnants of flesh free of his mouth. The pain of the amputation quickly forced the Captain into unconsciousness.

  After carefully positioning Captain Auroram's body so that he would not choke on his own blood, Marcus picked up a sheet of paper and quill pen from the Captain's desk. Dipping the pen into the small pool of blood which had accumulated on Polonius' chest after dripping down his chin, Marcus set the pen to paper and began to write:
/>
  'Governor' Ceresius:

  You should have realized no cage can hold me. I'll be

  seeing you very soon.

  --M.

  When he was satisfied that the note would achieve the desired reaction, Marcus slapped Captain Auroram repeatedly until the officer awakened with a start. The Captain tried to speak, but all that came out was a garbled gurgling noise.

  "Now, now, Captain," Marcus said quietly, "you should relax. You don't want to wear yourself out - we aren't finished yet. I've written a little message here for our beloved Governor. See that he gets it, and ensure that we never meet again. If I ever see you again, Captain, I will make you suffer in ways that you would never have imagined."

  With that, Marcus lifted Captain Auroram's left hand and placed it atop the sheet of paper containing his message to the Governor. Snatching the dagger up from the desk, Marcus plunged it through the Captain's palm with enough force to drive the blade through his hand, the paper, and several inches into the desk below. Captain Auroram's body shook and shuddered with the pain; tears flowed freely down his face, and muffled sobs found their way past his lips, each sob spraying a fine mist of blood out of the officer's mouth.

  "What in the name of Jupiter almighty," Domitian's voice came from behind Marcus, "have you done, Marcus?"

  "Not nearly enough," Marcus said, rising to his feet and turning to see Domitian and Vito standing at the door, weapons drawn. "But it's a start."

  "Remind me never to anger you," Vito said, the sight of the carnage in the room shocking even his jaded eyes.

  "Don't worry about angering me," Marcus said with a laugh as he stepped over the body of the Seargeant of the Night Watch. "Just do not order abominations against those I love, and you'll never need to worry about these sorts of scenes."

  "Somehow, I doubt this is the most gruesome sight any of us are going to see over the next few months," Domitian said. "Come, Marcus, let us leave this place before we are discovered. We have relocated Alexandra to a new safehouse, and have much to discuss."

  ***

  The new safehouse Domitian had alluded to was little more than a tiny shack at the outskirts of the city. Probably just as well,Marcus reflected. If it was anything else, it would likely draw unnecessary attention. Nobody is going to be suspect that a simple wooden shack could be the headquarters of an organized movement dedicated to overthrowing Julianus Vestatian.

  The interior of the shack was just as tiny and cramped as the view from the outside had suggested. In fact, the structure consisted of little more than two tiny rooms barely large enough to hold the people who waited inside. Alexandra and Vincenzo were in the second room; Marcus rushed to Alexandra and embraced her, hardly noticing Domitian and Vito entering the building hard on his heels. Marcus kissed Alexandra, brushing aside an errant lock of hair which had fallen across her cheek.

  "Forgive me for taking so long," he whispered as the kiss finally came to a conclusion. "I trust that Vincenzo was able to keep you well-guarded in my absence?"

  "No forgiveness is needed, beloved," Alexandra said with a half-smile. "After what happened at the other safehouse, I expected that you would be occupied for several hours. And yes, we did manage to reach here unnoticed, so my safety has not been an issue."

  "Nor shall it be," Marcus said. "I've ensured that nobody will come after you again. I believe that the Captain of the Guard has been shown the error of his ways in trying to hunt me down through my loved ones."

  "Don't be silly, Marcus. Of course people will still come after me - the Sicambrii and Romans loyal to Julianus Vestatian both. It's just that they will do so indirectly - they will come after you, which is the same as coming after me. But I have accepted the risks that come with being your wife, and I am capable of defending myself if need be."

  "Of course. I didn't mean to imply that you are defenseless, only that I would never stand by and watch while my most cowardly enemies try to harm you."

  "Listen, it's not that I want to interrupt," Vincenzo said, "but I do think we have some business to take care of here."

  Everyone gathered around the table in the shack's second room, awkwardly forcing themselves into chairs which were so tightly between the table and the room's walls that little room was left to breathe. When they were all seated as comfortably as was possible under the circumstances, Vincenzo tossed a small leather pouch onto the centre of the table.

  "I found that at The Countryside Inn. It seems that the first of our scout riders has returned from his mission in the province with a report of Sicambrii encampment locations and approximate troop strengths."

  Reaching for the leather satchel, Domitian reached inside and withdrew a small stack of parchment. He flipped through the sheets one by one, taking careful note of the columns of figures and hastily drawn maps.

  "Was the rider himself at the inn," Domitian asked Vincenzo, "or did he leave this in our meeting chamber?"

  "Actually," Vincenzo said, "neither. I saw no trace of the rider amongst the corpses in the room, so I assume that he was not present when the Sicambrii attacked. The pouch was actually on the body of the bartender - presumably, the rider gave it to him after returning from his mission. The bartender, no doubt, was planning to give Vito the information at the next possible opportunity."

  "He must have just returned this morning," Marcus said. "Had he been there yesterday, he would have given me the papers to pass along when I stopped there on my way to the other safehouse."

  "We must take advantage of this information right away," Vito said. "Who knows whether the Sicambrii took note of it when they interrogated the bartender? If they know that we have sent out scout riders, then it will take only a small leap of logic for them to conclude that we have an attack force which is ready to be deployed. If they know that, then they will move their encampments...or worse, they could set up ambushes for our men and wipe us out even as we were hoping to take them by surprise and do the same thing to them."

  "It seems unlikely that the Sicambrii are aware of the contents of this pouch," Domitian said. "Most of them can barely speak Latin, let alone read it. And if they had found the notes, they would have taken them to Vestatian."

  "Just because the notes were not found, we cannot conclude that the Sicambrii are not aware of their contents," Vito said. "That satchel was not sealed, and so the possibility exists that the bartender read the notes before the Sicambrii attacked. If he was tortured to the point of revealing the location of our safehouse, who knows whether or not he was forced to reveal our battle plans? He may not know any of the specific details, but if he leaked out the information on these sheets of parchment, details of our exact battle plans will be irrelevant. We will lose any semblance of the element of surprise. We cannot afford to let that happen."

  "I don't think we should be hasty," Marcus said. "Granted, if the Sicambrii who attacked the inn discovered that we sent out scout riders, there will be tremendous negative consequences for us. However, if we rush to attack on the off chance that they are aware we are coming, we will suffer those same consequences. "

  "I'm afraid I don't follow you," Domitian said.

  "We can all acknowledge that it is highly unlikely our forces will completely eradicate any or all of the Sicambrii encampments, correct?"

  "Yes," Vito said.

  "Of course," Domitian said. "At best, they'll be performing attack and run operations. Quick strikes to soften up the Sicambrii's total numbers."

  "Well, any survivors of those attacks are likely to immediately rush to the nearest encampments of their fellow tribals, correct?" Without waiting for an answer to the rhetorical question, Marcus continued: "We only know where one encampment is. If we attack them and they warn the other encampments at this point, none of our other forces will be able to make so much as a single attack. The full weight of the Sicambrii forces will be dispatched to Cologne, and our movement will be crushed before it has the opportunity to fully manifest itself."

  "So what do you rec
ommend?" Vito asked.

  "I recommend that we stay the course; there is no need for us to be overly hasty and leap into decisions which we are not prepared to make. We should run on the assumption that Julianus Vestatian has not heard of our operations yet, and act accordingly. When the rest of our scout riders return - which should be in the next week or two - we will dispatch the necessary orders to our training camps, as we had originally planned. In the meantime, we can make a concerted effort to reduce the strength of the Sicambrii and Vestatian loyalist presence in both Cologne and Xanten. That way, when the time comes for a full scale rebellion, our losses will be minimized."

  "And what do you suggest we do," Domitian said, "if Julianus Vestatian has heard of our plans? If the Sicambrii were able to extract that information from our operative at the inn, then one of our units will be in jeopardy."

  "Indeed," Marcus said. "You were a military leader, just as I was, Domitian. You know what risks are acceptable and what risks are not. On the off chance that Vestatian does know we were investigating these particular Sicambrii encampments, he'll likely simply assume that we were planning to attack the encampments that our rider investigated. There's no proof that he has any idea of the full extent of our forces, so he will likely do little more than ambush one unit of men. In that situation, we would lose a few Centuries - at worst, a full Cohort. Less than five hundred men, at any rate - are those not acceptable losses if they lead to our victory? If we press an attack now, we may tip our hand to Vestatian regarding the full strength of our numbers, and if that happens then everything we have worked to achieve could quite conceivably be lost."

  "I don't like the idea of losing any more men than absolutely necessary," Domitian said, pondering the dilemma, "but Marcus is right. We must be prepared to accept certain casualties, even if it seems a little cold-blooded. Those men who attack the Sicambrii encampments our rider investigated will be doing so with the full knowledge that they may be walking into a trap, and they will do what they must for the safety and security of our province."