Fallen Legion

by David Thompson

  "I thank you for your advice, and for the warning," Marcus said. "I shall be sure to carry myself carefully over the days and weeks to come, and shall keep a close eye on Domitian, though I shall treat him no differently now than I did before you warned me of his feelings."

  "Good," Mars said. "I would not expect you to alienate a friend simply because I warned you that the friends may bear you ill will. Such blind ignorance would be a sign of a weak will and utter lack of wisdom.

  "I am afraid that I must depart now, Marcus. There are many pressing matters which require my attention throughout the world. I wish you well in the coming days, Marcus, and am confident that you will make us all very proud. If I have any need of contacting you, I shall communicate through your wife, as I have done for so many years. I do not believe we shall meet again, or at least not while you are still amongst the living."

  Marcus tried to speak, to say any of the thousand things that were running through his mind, but found that no matter how hard he tried, he could not express the thoughts that raged wildly in his brain. The inside of his stomach twisted itself into a knot, and as his stomach cramped up, the world around him faded into a rush of blackness.

  ***

  As Marcus gradually drifted back to the waking world, the first thing he became aware of was the delicate caress of his wife's hand across his chest. His eyes slowly opened to see Alexandra sitting on the edge of the bed, gently running her fingers up and down over his body with a gentle smile on her face.

  "Beloved," Marcus said, his voice hoarse and raspy, "you're awake."

  "Yes," Alexandra said with a lilting laugh, "I am. Brilliant observation, sweetheart."

  "Well," Marcus said, "I do pride myself on my early morning deductive skills."

  "I woke up a little early," Alexandra said with a sweet smile, "and decided to just sit here and watch you sleep. It's amazing to me that, despite the chaos which is threatening to engulf us at any moment, you are able to look so peaceful when you sleep, like you know something the rest of us don't."

  "I wouldn't go so far as to say that," Marcus said. "In fact, had I spent the night with anyone but you, I doubt I would have looked half as peaceful as you say I did. You have that effect on me, my love."

  Marcus reached one arm out and grasped Alexandra around the waist, gently pulling her down to the bed with him. Alexandra didn't resist, naturally curling up with her husband into a spoon position. The couple lay silent, embracing each other tightly, Alexandra enveloped in Marcus' embrace, her hands lightly grasping his forearms. With a contented sigh, Alexandra spoke in a quiet whisper.

  "You know that he'll be back," she said.

  "Vestatian? I know," Marcus said, gently kissing Alexandra's earlobe in between whispered words. "He will come, and we will be ready."

  "Do you really believe we can triumph? He'll have the full might of the Sicambrii behind him; maybe even other tribal warriors who choose to ally themselves with the Sicambrii. Our men will be outnumbered, and they'll be facing men who have trained for battle their entire lives," Alexandra whispered in a trembling voice.

  "We shall triumph," Marcus said confidently, but without a trace of arrogance.

  "How can you be so sure?"

  "I have it on good authority that we have the support of powerful allies," Marcus said, pulling Alexandra even closer to him, until their bodies were pressed together so tightly that not even a hair could be squeezed between them. "More than that, however, I have faith in our soldiers. We have the might which comes from marching under the Roman banner, my wife, and that is a more potent weapon than any sword or spear."

  "Your faith is enough proof of our impending victory for me," Alexandra said, a faint half-smile forming on her face. Before she was able to say anything more, however, the pair was interrupted by a loud knock at their door. Marcus kissed Alexandra's cheek and reluctantly rose to answer the door, spreading the bed's blanket over Alexandra's nude form, taking no heed of the fact that he was also nude. After quietly slipping his sword from the sheath which hung from a chair beside the bed, Marcus crept over to the door and pulled it open just wide enough to see who stood beyond the portal. With a small sigh of relief, Marcus pulled the door open to reveal Vito.

  "What can I help you with this morning, my friend? I trust that you have good reason for disturbing our rest," Marcus said.

  "Indeed I do," Vito said, slipping inside the room and shutting the door behind him. "However, I would not have come so early had I known my arrival would catch you in a state of undress."

  Marcus shrugged, obviously not concerned with his own nakedness. He did, however, resheath his sword and pulled on a rough pair of shorts which lay on the floor, then gestured for Vito to take a seat in the empty chair. Marcus, for his part, sat down on the edge of the bed, precisely where Alexandra had been seated only moments earlier.

  "So, Vito," Marcus said casually, "what business brings you here this morning? I thought we were all to take a day's rest before resuming our duties. Was I mistaken?"

  "No," Vito said, "you were not mistaken. The day's rest, however, has been converted into nothing more than a few hours' rest. Vestatian and his forces are not taking time to rest and recuperate, and so neither can we. I do, however, come bearing two pieces of good news."

  "By all means," Marcus said, spreading out his arms in a gesture which begged Vito to enlighten him, even as Alexandra reached one hand up to curl around Marcus' waist. "Tell us everything."

  "Of course," Vito said. "The first bit of good news is that the last of the Sicambrii seem to have been run from the city. There may be one or two stragglers, but the citizens seem to have killed or driven away the rest of them."

  "That is good news indeed," Marcus said. "But hardly unexpected, and certainly something which could have waited a few more hours before I was told. I take it the second piece of news you bear is of somewhat greater importance?"

  "Indeed so," Vito said. "The first of our units have arrived outside the city walls. Only about six hundred men so far, but the word is that more shall arrive by the end of the day. By tomorrow evening, the last of our troops should be assembled. In the meantime, Domitian has called a meeting of all the officers in the city and surrounding area to discuss strategies for dealing with Vestatian's inevitable return. Most of the men have already gathered in a command tent just outside the city's west gate - mostly Centurions and a few Tribunes, but Domitian has requested your presence at the meeting nonetheless. I believe it is his intention to promote some of the officers to higher command positions today, and he would like your input."

  "That's a good idea," Marcus said. "We never really set up a full command structure when we put together our training camps, and that command structure will be required once all of our forces have assembled.

  "At any rate, Vito, go ahead of me to the meeting. I'll get dressed and meet you all there; tell Domitian that I will be present in a few minutes."

  Vito nodded and rose, leaving the room quickly and closing the door behind him. As the door shut behind Vito, Marcus turned to face Alexandra again, bending at the waist to place a soft kiss on her lips.

  "I'm sorry, beloved," he whispered, caressing her cheek as he spoke. "I must attend this meeting. It would be improper of me to be absent. I shall try to return as quickly as possible."

  "I'll be waiting," Alexandra said with an impish grin. "If you make it back quickly enough, you may even find me still laying here unclothed, waiting for you to return and ravish me."

  "That," Marcus said with a lascivious grin, "is enough incentive for me to ensure that this meeting is finished quickly."

  True to his word, Marcus moved quickly. His uniform was gathered up from where it lay in pieces on his floor and was thrown onto his body in record time. Marcus' hands fluttered over buckles and clasps, pulling pieces that needed to be pulled, and pushing the pieces that needed to be pushed. In a few short minutes, he went from nearly naked to fully garbed in his uniform, his cape fluttering from
the rushed uniform assembly, bunching up in small pools of fabric around the hilt of his sheathed sword. Making one final adjustment which freed up the cloth which was caught between the sword's hilt and his body, Marcus stretched out with a lazy yawn. He winked to his wife, who still lay in the bed, watching his hasty dressing routine with a scarcely concealed grin.

  "I will see you soon," Marcus said, placing one hand on the door. He threw a last glance over his shoulder at Alexandra before reluctantly pulling the portal open. Taking a deep breath to steel himself against the inevitable onslaught of the world beyond the still and peaceful room, Marcus stepped outside, carefully closing the door behind himself.

  Walking through the streets of the city provided a pleasant surprise to Marcus - already the citizens seemed to be benefitting tremendously from the absence of their Sicambrii oppressors; people walked through the streets with smiles on their faces and bounces in their steps, a stark contrast to the grim-faced, downcasted-gaze marches which had been common as recently as the previous morning. Several of the city's men greeted Marcus with hearty slaps on the back, while one particularly grateful old crone knelt in his path as Marcus approached, reaching out to grab hold of his cape as he passed. Marcus paused in mid-stride, reaching down to guide the woman to her feet. With a gentle smile on his face, he told her that her days of bowing and kneeling before her fellow man were over. The sentiment seemed to overwhelm the elderly woman, bringing tears of joy to her eyes.

  Outside of the city gates - which were themselves unguarded for the first time in several years - the scene was even more merry. As Vito had said, hundreds of Roman soldiers were gathered, milling around performing the tasks that soldiers performed. The bright sunlight reflected off the polished armour of hundreds of men, dazzling Marcus' eyes briefly as he stepped out of the gates' shadows and into the middle of the soldiers' camp. The activity of the gathered soldiers created an organized chaos which swirled around Marcus as he strode through the crowds; some of the men were busy setting up tents and assembling large siege engines from large pieces of lumber and iron, while others sated their hunger and thirst by wolfing down a veritable feast from a table kept fully stocked by women from the city. Still more soldiers were busy honing their skills, sparring with wooden training swords and blunted spears, while others wrestled empty-handed. The sights, sounds, and smells of the assembly was enough to bring a fond smile back to Marcus' face as his mind was flooded with memories of all the campaigns he had participated in through the years, faced with scene after scene identical to the one before him.

  His procession through the crowds of soldiers was halted when a familiar face bumped into Marcus' shoulder. As the soldier backed up with a hasty apology, recognition flittered across his face with a wide grin.

  "General Ulpius! It's been months," William Ilona said, clapping his hand on Marcus' shoulder enthusiastically.

  "Indeed it has, William," Marcus said with a smile. "I trust that your training has gone well?"

  "Better than I could have ever imagined," William said, "though I have been tremendously busy. Not that I'm complaining...far from it. I've spent months drilling in tactics and techniques for both infantry and training siege weapon operators. It feels like I haven't slept since I last seen you, but I believe that the results you will see when you inspect the troops will make everything worth it."

  "So they've had you working all the occupations, eh? I thought that you would have rather spent your time concentrating on a single occupation."

  "Well, I did," Dahmus said. "It's just that, since we were so short-handed on experienced siege operators left from the old Legions, I was instrumental in training the new operators. I've spent most of my time drilling with the infantry, but when needed..."

  "I see," Marcus said. "I do not mean to be rude, William, but I am actually on my way to a meeting. I would love to catch up with you later, but for now, I must depart."

  "Oh," William said, unsurprised. "Of course. I assume that you're looking for the command tent? Just follow the path between the tents here," he gestured in front of him, in the path Marcus had already been walking, "and you'll arrive in a few minutes."

  "Thank you, William. Good to see you again."

  "And you, sir."

  With a final nod, Marcus left William standing there, still grinning widely. As he had promised, the path to the command tent was short indeed; Marcus caught sight of the structure shortly after leaving Dahmus' side, and was soon walking through the open flaps of the tent. Domitian was standing in the middle of the structure, poised over a large pile of maps and papers spread over a long wooden table. He was surrounded by half a dozen men in the uniforms of the Legions, with ranks alternating between Centurion and Tribune, and all the ranks in between.

  "Good to see you could make it," Domitian said with a half-smile as Marcus walked through the door. "We need to get down to business."

  Chapter XVII

  Two nights after the first of the newly-trained Roman legionairres had arrived at the walls of the city of Cologne, the last of the road-weary warriors arrived at the encampment. The city had been newly abuzz with cries of joy every time a new line of soldiers appeared on the horizon, but as night finally approached, both the city and the soldiers fell quiet - or at least, their noise dropped to a dull roar. As the din began to die down, Marcus wound his way through the halls of the Governor's mansion and into one of its many large conference rooms. Domitian was already waiting for him, leaning over a large wooden table which occupied the middle of the room. As usual, papers were strewn over the table's entire surface, and Domitian looked worried as he reviewed them; he was so preoccupied with what lay before him on the table that he didn't even cast an upward glance as Marcus walked into the room.

  "Domitian," Marcus said, "the last of the troops have arrived. Two full Centuries, as well as several tent groups."

  "That leaves us with only sixty five hundred men in all," Domitian said with a heavy sigh. "Our losses in the guerilla attacks were greater than anticipated. We can only hope that our numbers will be sufficient."

  "There will be enough men," Marcus said.

  "There are never enough men," Domitian said with a snarl. "Even with ten times our current numbers, there would not be enough men."

  "Calm yourself, Domitian," Marcus said, idly flipping through several of the papers on the table. "They are well trained and eager to fight, and fight they shall. They will fight with the fury of a people fighting for their very lives, and the lives of everyone they hold dear. They will be unstoppable."

  "As unstoppable as our men were when the Sicambrii first attacked us? They fought for the very same reasons; they outnumbered our current troops, and they were career soldiers. We both know how successful they were. What makes you think that a handful of men whose training has been barely sufficient to qualify them are more than militia are going to be able to succeed where some of the best trained troops in the world failed?"

  "Consider this, Domitian, and consider it well: the troops are under my command this time, not the command of that halfwit Ceresius. You know full well that he couldn't successfully plan an attack on an unguarded cottage, even with the strength of a thousand soldiers behind him. It is true that these soldiers gathered outside the city walls are not as well trained as those soldiers who have fought for most of their lives in the Legions. It is also true that they will be outnumbered by the enemy, and that the enemy is not only practiced at battle, but also a fierce and powerful force. However, these troops have been put through the same training that both you and I have been through, Domitian. Not only that, they are equipped with the finest weapons and armour that our provincial smiths have been able to produce - that is something which the Sicambrii cannot boast.

  "If you do not believe that men trained in the most effective tactics that Roman Generals have been able to devise over the years, and carrying the most effective weapons and armour ever devised have even the smallest chance of triumphing over the backward savag
es that threaten to assail us, then it occurs to me that you may not have the faith in the strength of our Empire that I thought you did."

  "Are you questioning my dedication to the Empire? That would be a fine sentiment," Domitian spat, "if it were not coming from the one responsible for our original defeat at Agrippinensis."

  "Have you lost your mind? You know full well the details of our defeat at Agrippinensis," Marcus said, more than slightly puzzled at Domitian's attitude. Mar's cautions rang in Marcus' ears. "And you know full well that it is something which was beyond our power to prevent. Ceresius decided to invoke his power of command over the Legions; that is something which nobody short of Emperor Trajan himself could reverse."

  "The right of a leader to command his troops seems to be something you have little respect for these days," Domitian said. "It can only make me wonder why you did not show such disrespect on that battlefield that you show today. We could have been spared all this trouble: the deaths, the endless preparations, the Sicambrii oppression."

  "What in Hades are you talking about, Domitian?"

  "You know full bloody well what I'm talking about," Domitian growled. "You've been prancing around for months like you're the leader of our rebellion; if not for the title that I was so kind as to bestow upon an old friend, you would still be nothing more than a drunk on the streets of Xanten - indeed, you'd likely be dead if not for the fact that I saved you from that fate. And how do you repay me - repay all of us? By assuming that you deserve some sort of special status, some sort of special treatment, and acting as if the rest of us are nothing but your subordinates!"

  "If I have mistreated any of you," Marcus said slowly, trying to maintain his calm in the face of Domitian's rebuke, "then I most sincerely apologize, for that was not my intention. However, I must admit that I feel some confusion over your sentiments. As you say, the title of General was bestowed upon me - or, perhaps more appropriately, I was restored to the rank that I once held. That rank carries with it certain rights, as well as certain responsibilities. Yes, I have taken control of many facets of our operations, and have delegated the responsibilities for many others. I have been both the public and private face of the fight against Julianus Vestatian and his murderous thugs - and I have borne the brunt of their retaliation for daring to subvert their rule. Have you forgotten the time I spent in the city prison being tortured at the hands of Vestatian's men, or has your memory become so selective that you only recall my perceived faults, and none of my merits?"