by T. A. Uner
Leonius’ words were enough to sway the rest of the men. But some looked doubtful.
“How do you propose to negotiate this truce?” Nilox asked.
“We could send a peace envoy,” Decimus said.
The men turned to look at Decimus, surprised that such an unorthodox idea could be uttered from his lips.
“Explain,” Eolus said.
“Governor Lucius Vitellius used to send out peace envoys against the Persians when he wished to avoid prolonged conflicts. At least until he could summon reinforcements. His diplomacy tactics were often successful.”
“These are not Persians, they’re Germans. Besides, none of us are accomplished diplomats like Governor Vitellius,” said Faustus.
“Then it is time we became diplomats,” said Eolus. “I like your idea, Decimus. You, and I will take a small contingent of tribunes and men and attempt to find the leaders of the German tribes.”
One of the Tribunes stood up. “Respectfully, Sir, is that wise? Shouldn’t we send a larger force?”
“That might spook them,” Eolus replied. “We may provoke them instead of negotiating peace.” Eolus turned to face Decimus and Leonius.
“Leonius, you and Decimus select fifteen of our best Legionaries. Explain to them the mission. Tomorrow we’ll begin seeking out the German tribal leaders. That is all for now.”
Eolus stood up from his chair. The men stood and saluted him before the Legatus left the room.
Leonius clapped Decimus on the back. “Let us get started, the sooner we’re done, the better.”
“Aye,” Decimus said as they shuffled out of the room. “The question is, will we be coming back?”
The next day, the contingent set off. The Aquilifer carried their standard on foot ahead of the main column as the small envoy left the main gates on horseback. Decimus tried to remain optimistic despite the precariousness of this mission. He had served in countless campaigns. Why was he so worried about this one? Leonius and Nilox had stayed behind to watch over the men. Eolus and Decimus, plus the two Tribunes, Albinus and Faustus made up the officers assigned to the envoy. The remaining numbers were as many battle-hardened Legionaries they could muster.
“Stay close to me, Decimus,” Eolus said as tendrils of cold air drifted from his mouth.
Even though spring had arrived, the winter chill was still present. Decimus figured it would take another month before the spring weather caught up with them.
“I’ll be sure to do that, Sir,” Decimus told his Legatus. Around them the Tribunes were quiet while the Legionnaires scanned their surroundings, as if expecting an attack at any moment.
“I still don’t understand why we don’t send out scouts,” Decimus said. “Always good to know what is ahead of us.”
“Under normal circumstances, yes,” Eolus said, “but this is a peace envoy. If we sent out scouts that might be misinterpreted by the Germans as a prelude to an attack. No. We will travel together.”
“As you wish, Sir,” Decimus said, hoping his Legatus was right. Above them the sky was a canvas of pure white, tracing a hazy sun which hovered above the snow capped peaks of the sloping alps. Decimus pulled out an apple and bit into it. The tangy sweetness of the apple tasted good. He chewed the rest of it and tossed the core at a small squirrel who made off with its remnants.
A hawk circled overhead. Some of the tribunes looked up at it and pointed.
At least that hawk had taken their minds off the dangers we all face out here, Decimus thought. He wished he was somewhere warm, with a woman in his arms. He hadn’t lain with a woman since leaving Rome. If I survive this ordeal I’ll have to find myself a wife, he thought. Many soldiers didn’t take wives, but he could bend the rules, slightly. He was, after all, the Primus Pilus.
That night, they made camp in a large clearing, surrounded by large evergreen trees. Patches of snow covered the hard earth where they pitched their tents. Decimus stared at the dusty red clouds that trekked across the dusk sky while a gibbous moon had emerged to take its place amongst them.
The smell of roasting meet greeted his nostrils and the men stepped aside for him as he extended his plate to the cook who placed a sizzling slab of juicy meat on his plate.
The Tribunes were dining inside the Eolus’ tent and the guards stepped aside to allow Decimus inside. A table had been set where the tribunes dined on their food. Decimus found a seat and took his place at the table while a Steward brought him a heel of buttered bread and spiced wine. The bread was crusty and he bit into it hungrily. But he wished Publius was here, his Steward baked the best bread he had ever eaten.
Tribune Albinus was discussing the downfall of Macro, and they all wondered how the new Praetorian Prefect, Cassius Chaerea, would fare serving Caligula.
“You’ve met the new Prefect, haven’t you Decimus?” Eolus asked.
“Yes,” Decimus said before taking a sip of spice wine. “He was the one who assigned me to the 21st Legion.”
Eolus looked at Decimus and smiled. “I had written a letter to Macro, asking for an experienced Centurion to come serve as my new Primus Pilus. Little did I know that the letter would be read by his predecessor.”
“What was he like?” Faustus asked Decimus.
“He was taciturn,” Decimus replied, hoping the subject would turn towards another topic.
“There are still many rumors surrounding his death,” said Albinus.
Eolus said: “He who practices skullduggery, is often the victim of it.”
The tribunes all agreed.
Wise words, from a wise man, Decimus thought.
After dinner they all scattered across the camp and found clusters of Legionaries to sit down with and talk to. Decimus knew that Eolus encouraged the intermingling of officers and enlisted men, it helped morale.
Dormo sat down next to Decimus who was wrapped in a heavy wool blanket.
“You think we’ll find these German tribal leaders, Centurion?” the young man asked.
“Either that or they’ll find us lad. Truth be told I’d rather have you out there scouting the terrain instead of wandering around, looking for them.”
“Aye,” Dormo said ruefully. “But the Legatus has his reasons.”
Decimus nodded. “And I’ll follow him, whether or not I agree with his tactics.”
“That’s the type of loyalty legends are made of.”
Decimus grinned. “Out here, loyalty is all that separates men from the animals.”
Dormo left to take the first watch while Decimus settled down to sleep in his tent. That night, his dreams were of him being tortured by Germans. A never-ending pain that stretched from the tips of his toes to his skull. He awoke with a sweat and cursed. Sunlight peeked through the opening of his tent, and when he emerged from it, he was greeted by a spear held by a bearded face.
The Germans had found them.
{VIII}
Reptilius was getting closer to his quarry, he could feel it. Sawtooth was restless and the crocodile’s snarls and grunts indicated he was itching for action. He was not meant to ride this cart forever.
“Don’t worry boy,” Reptilius said, “we’ll find a tasty treat for you after this is all over.”
Sawtooth stared at Reptilius, his beady eyes blinked once then closed.
“I know how you feel, boy, all this traveling has made my arse numb too.”
Reptilius wondered if Crocodiles had arses. He laughed at the thought and urged the horses on. They were well-lathered and would require rest soon. The trail sprawled through a wooded glen before twisting around a bend. Upon reaching it Reptilius cursed. The trail was blocked. He got out of the cart and inspected the large boulder blocking his progress. To traverse it would ask much from the horses in their exhausted condition. Besides, one of the locals he had spoken to indicated the wizard named Hradack was less than a day’s travel. He didn’t want to lose out to one of his opponents.
Then there would be no treasure.
“End of the line, boy,�
� Reptilius said before he hobbled the horses and gathered his supplies. Sawtooth, awoke from his light slumber and grunted before slowly climbing down from the cart. He followed his handler around the large rock, sliding across the ground with ease.
Reptilius admired the creature’s gait. Despite its cumbersome appearance it moved swiftly and surely. Its intelligence was matched only by its fearsome ability to subdue its opponents.
Reptilius was glad to have Sawtooth as an ally.
The air was crisp and cool. Reptilius had studied his maps and knew the terrain. They were in northeast Italy. His legs were sore from the many days of traveling and he stopped for a moment to massage them. Sawtooth stopped too, and watched Reptilius. They resumed their trek until Reptilius stopped again. He saw something up ahead and squinted to get a better look. They scuttled past the thin trees and closed in on their target. It actually grew smaller as they approached it. Reptilius stopped behind a tree and motioned for Sawtooth to remain hidden.
Before them was a small creature. It resembled a man but was shorter. A Pygmy. He wore a small tunic and breeches, his boots were covered in mud. To Reptilius it appeared the diminutive creature was collecting roots, for what purpose he did not know. He decided to get a closer look at the little man.
It began singing. Reptilius almost had to cover his ears from the melancholy sound it uttered from its lips. Its voice was hoarse and sounded like a goose being strangled.
Reptilius drew his whip. He closed in on the Pygmy before he felt his foot became entangled and his body was quickly hoisted up the side of a tree. He had walked into a snare trap.
“Did you think I’d have remained alive all these years without taking precautions?” the Pygmy said as it padded over to where Reptilius dangled upside down. “You don’t look so fearsome now.”
Reptilius cursed himself for being captured by this pint-sized person. He had made the biggest mistake a hunter could make: underestimating his prey.
The creature grabbed Reptilius’ whip. “Planning to capture poor Vespillo with this…ehh? I ought to strangle you with your own whip.”
“That’s no ordinary whip. Let me down,” Reptilius said. “If you do so quickly, I will leave you in peace.”
The Pygmy eyed him suspiciously. As he hung upside down, Reptilius felt the blood flow make his head heavy.
“You must think me a fool,” Vespillo said. “If I let you go who knows what you will do to me?” The Pygmy paused for a moment. “Why are you here?” he asked suspiciously.
Reptilius tried to grab the Pygmy’s throat, but the creature was too quick for him. Instead he found himself swaying back and forth like a pendulum.
“Leave me in peace, right?” the Pygmy said sarcastically. “I think you’ve revealed your true intentions.”
He saw Sawtooth approaching the Pygmy from behind.
A silent hunter. Good job Boy. Reptilius smiled.
“What’s so funny?” Vespillo asked.
Sawtooth’s jagged teeth bit into Vespillo’s ankle. The Pygmy screamed.
“Now,” Reptilius said, “cut me down or my friend Sawtooth will tear your foot off.”
Reptilius threw one of his dirks at Vespillo who had trouble wielding it with Sawtooth still attached to his ankle.
“Sawtooth! Release him!” Reptilius said. “Now, little man, no tricks, or I’ll have Sawtooth swallow you whole.”
Vespillo eyed his bloody boot, and inspected his ankle wound before he wobbled over to the rope line and cut it. Reptilius crashed to the ground and cursed yet again. He stood up and grabbed the dirk from the Pygmy.
“I am looking for someone,” Reptilius said.
Vespillo stared at him then eyed his wound again. “I’m the only one who lives around here.”
“You are lying.” Reptilius turned toward Sawtooth. “Rip off his legs, Boy!” The crocodile pinned Vespillo to the ground with its scaly arms and snarled.
“Very well!” Vespillo said. “I will take you to my Master, but you will regret the day you intruded upon his stead.”
“Lead the way.” When Vespillo got to his feet, Reptilius shoved the little man in the back and they marched on, Sawtooth trailing them.
Sixteen/Sedecim
Tullus and Celestra stared at the ant hill at their feet and watched the tiny creatures move about.
“Humans could learn much from the humble ant,” Hradack said, smiling. “If people would put aside their differences and work together, who knows how far humanity would advance. Look at those creatures, working together for a common goal, each one no better than the other, but they have a common goal and do not let greed or personal ambition endanger their collective spirit.”
Tullus laughed. “I suppose that is one way of looking at ants.”
They left the anthill and continued their stroll through the forest.
“There are two types of people in this world. Those who believe in their own greatness, and those who believe in something greater than themselves,” Hradack said as he leaned on his wooden staff for support.“Unfortunately our current Emperor has decided to follow the former.”
“They say he’s mad,” Tullus said. Celestra growled her assent.
“Either that or delusional, Aurumax tells me he thinks he’s a god.” Tullus eyed Hradack and the Leopard Master, being an astute Mentor, sensed his Learner’s thoughts, explained. “I often send Aurumax to Rome to listen in on the goings on in the capital. I like to know current events.”
“I never cared much for politics, that is why I left the Praetorian Guard.”
“Unfortunately politics often attracts those intent on furthering their personal ambitions rather than serving the needs of the people,” Hradack said.
Celestra brushed up against Tullus' leg and padded off ahead of them to scout ahead.
“Where is she going?” Hradack asked bemusedly.
“Exploring.” Tullus looked around. “Did you hear that?”
Hradack looked around. “Hear what?”
“That sound,” Tullus said. “It sounded like someone stepping on a branch.”
“I’m afraid my hearing isn’t what it used to be,” Hradack said, “not unless I cast the Audio spell. Perhaps it’s Vespillo. I sent him out this morning to gather some roots for me. He should be back by now.”
Celestra exploded from the bushes. Her alert, yellow eyes stared at Tullus while the stars inside pulsated. She growled at Tullus.
Tullus' eyes widened. “She says we’re in danger!”
A large battle axe flew towards Tullus. He had barely enough time to cast the Contego spell before the axe ricocheted off of his energy shield. Tullus grabbed Hradack’s arm and pulled him behind a thicket to take cover. Celestra remained planted in her spot and growled fiercely. A large man wearing a bull-headed helm emerged from the woods. He carried a great battle axe and advanced on Celestra, who stood her ground.
“Girl, get out of there!” Tullus said.
The bull-helmed man swung his axe at Celestra, nearly grazing her back. She cast the Furtim spell and disappeared. The Bull man didn’t seem to mind her departure. He whistled, and a muscular war horse appeared. The Bull man climbed atop it and scanned the area. Celestra then reappeared and pounced at the Bull man. He blocked her attack with a large shield. The Leopardess crashed against it but deftly landed on her feet.
Tullus stood up from where he lay hidden and drew LeopardClaw. He had seen enough.
“Tullus,” Hradack said, “I hope you are not planning to take him on alone?”
Tullus charged his opponent. He was at a disadvantage since the Bull man was atop his steed, but Tullus was inflamed. He didn’t want Celestra battling this brute alone. The Bull man saw his charge and urged his steed forward. It snorted and whickered loudly as LeopardClaw and the giant axe connected with one another. The impact shook Tullus’ body before he felt the large shield nick the side of his face. A small cut appeared, but Tullus was able to strike the warhorse’s flanchard. The warhorse kicked at Tu
llus but he dodged the hoof. Celestra pounced on the creature’s crupper but was unable to get a good grip. The horse shook her off with ease. Hradack finally appeared before the Bull man. He saw The Leopard Master and charged him. He raised his axe above his head and was about to bring it down when Hradack raised his wooden staff. A green bolt of lightning emerged from it and struck the Bull man’s shield, engulfing him and his steed as ripples of green energy danced across man and horse. The Bull man dropped his axe and shield before he and his steed collapsed to the ground.
Tullus moved toward Hradack, who was inspecting the Bull-helmed man with interest.
Tullus sheathed LeopardClaw and removed the heavy bull-headed helm from the dead man. He looked at his opponent’s face before tossing the helm into the bushes.
“Do you know this man?” Hradack asked.
Tullus shook his head. “I’ve never seen him before.”
Celestra poked at the fallen warhorse with her front claw. When she realized it was dead she padded over toward Tullus.
“This doesn’t make sense.”
“I suggest we return to the stead,” Hradack said.
Tullus nodded. “I hope no harm has come to Vespillo.”
{II}
“Wait till you meet Hradack,” Vespillo said. “You’ll wish you never crossed paths with him.”
“Keep moving, tree stump.” Reptilius shoved the Pygmy in the back again. The little man stumbled and cursed at his captor. He stared at his ankle wound before tearing off a piece of his tunic sleeve, wrapping it around the spot which Sawtooth had bitten into.
“Get to your feet, tree stump,” Reptilius said. Sawtooth snarled at Vespillo, revealing rows of jagged, white teeth. The Pygmy scowled at the reptile and spat at the ground before resuming his trek.
“What do you want with Hradack?” Vespillo said as he laboriously wobbled ahead of Reptilius and Sawtooth. “He’s a peaceful old man.”
“I’m not after him, tree stump. I want the one they call the Leopard King.”