Germania (Veteran of Rome Book 5)

by William Kelso

  ‘Number 21,’ an auctioneer cried out in a loud voice, as the girl was dragged from her cage and led up onto the wooden platform. Expertly the auctioneer turned to address his audience. ‘As you can see she is a young female, around sixteen, good teeth, strong and in excellent health,’ he cried. ‘Would make a great kitchen-maid, field-worker or house-hold slave. Limited grasp of Latin, but nothing a whip cannot teach. We will start the bidding at eight hundred Denarii.’

  Around the platform the slave merchants and citizens gazed up at the girl. Then one of them raised his hand. Then another. Fergus took a deep breath as he looked on. Upon the stage, the girl looked terrified as she struggled with the slavers who held her fast. Then a stream of urine came running down her leg. But as one of the punters stepped forwards and reached up to touch her, she turned and spat at the man. The action resulted in a smattering of laughter amongst the crowd.

  ‘Nine hundred denarii, do I have any bids for Nine fifty?’ the auctioneer cried out glancing around at the crowd.

  ‘No, I am sorry,’ Fergus suddenly called out, raising his hand and showing the auctioneer his stone token. ‘I have changed my mind. The girl is no longer for sale. I am going to take her with me now. Undo do those chains.’

  Startled, the auctioneer turned to stare at Fergus. Around the stage the surprised crowd fell silent, as they too turned to look at Fergus. Up on the platform the girl was gazing at him with wild, frightened eyes.

  ‘Undo those chains,’ Fergus cried out again, as he pushed his way to the front of the stage and clambered up onto it and handed the auctioneer his token. ‘She is no longer for sale.’

  The auctioneer stared down at the token in his hand. Then slowly he shook his head.

  ‘You are mad,’ the man hissed quietly. ‘What are you, a soldier, going to do with a slave? She will run away at the first possible chance. You would do much better if you let me sell her and pocket the money. Think about it.’

  ‘I have,’ Fergus growled. ‘And she is not for sale.’

  ‘Alright, suit yourself,’ the auctioneer snapped angrily, as he gestured for his men to unchain the girl. ‘But you will still pay the auctioneer’s fees.’

  ‘What are you doing Fergus,’ one of his soldiers called out from the crowd. Ignoring the man, Fergus fished into his pocket, slapped a single, silver coin into the auctioneer’s hand, then roughly grasping the girl by her arm, he led her off the podium.

  The girl was silent as Fergus led her away through the crowd. Then, when they were out of sight of the slave pens, he forced her to stop. Tensely Fergus turned to look at the girl but she refused to meet his gaze.

  ‘Shit,’ Fergus muttered as he looked away. He’d acted on impulse and now that he had done so, he had no idea of what to do with his new slave.

  ‘Alright, listen,’ he said in Latin. ‘My name is Fergus. You remember me, don’t you? I took you prisoner on the battlefield. You belong to me. You are forbidden from running away, do you understand?’

  The girl did not reply. Clasping hold of her chin, Fergus forced her to look up at him.

  ‘What is your name?’ he growled.

  But the girl remained silent, staring at him with stubborn, defiant eyes.

  ‘Can you understand what I am saying?’ Fergus said speaking slowly.

  Again the girl made no sound, nor did she move her head. She just stared back at Fergus with her large, pale-blue eyes.

  ‘Oh this is fucking great,’ Fergus hissed. ‘What are you, a mute? Someone cut out your tongue?’

  On impulse, he tried to force the girl to open her mouth, to show him that she did indeed have a tongue, but she squealed and refused to open her mouth, and after she had bitten his hand twice, he gave up.

  ‘Suit yourself then,’ he snapped angrily. Then roughly he undid the belt from around her waist and used it to bind her hands together.

  ‘Don’t you dare run away,’ he cried pointing a finger at her. ‘Now for the last time, what is your name?’

  But the girl refused to answer and sullenly, lowered her eyes to the ground.

  Bewildered Fergus shook his head. Maybe this had been a mistake? Maybe the slave auctioneer was right and he should just take the money. How was he ever going to look after a slave, like this girl? What use did he have for her? What was she going to do? How was he going to feed her? Where was he going to put her? He hadn’t thought about any of that, when he’d made his decision to take her away from the slave merchants. All he knew was what he didn’t want to sell her to those fat, lecherous men in the Forum.

  For a moment, he stared at the ugly scar and the number 21, branded into her shoulder with a white-hot poker. The girl would carry that mark with her for the rest of her life. It would be an eternal reminder to everyone that she was a slave.

  ‘Alright,’ Fergus said in a calmer voice. ‘If you don’t want to speak, then I will give you a name. You can’t be known forever as number twenty-one. So, from now on you will be called Titula. Got that. Titula, that’s your name. When I say Titula, you listen.’

  The girl raised her head and stared at Fergus.

  ‘Titula,’ Fergus muttered with a little encouraging nod. ‘My name is Fergus. I am a soldier. I am the man who captured you on the battlefield. You remember me, don’t you?’

  The girl was staring at him blankly and with a sigh Fergus looked away. He had been a fool. Ofcourse the girl would not understand Latin. She was from beyond the Imperial borders, a barbarian and she would know as much Latin as he knew about her language, which was nothing.

  ‘Oh fuck me,’ Fergus muttered rubbing his forehead wearily. What had he done? What was he going to do with this girl?

  ‘Fergus, what are you doing?’ a voice called out from close by.

  Deflated, Fergus turned to see Aledus and some of the other men coming towards him through the crowds. Some of the legionaries were clutching small leather bags in their hands, their faces beaming with happiness and excitement. Aledus was peering at Fergus curiously. Then he turned to examine the girl.

  ‘What are you doing man?’ Aledus repeated as he came to a halt beside Fergus, his eyes still on the girl. ‘Are you insane? Don’t you realise how lucky you are to have caught her? If you sold her, she would fetch over three year’s salary. Don’t you want the money? All the others have made a huge profit.’

  ‘I can’t do it,’ Fergus muttered. ‘I just can’t do it.’

  ‘You are mad,’ Aledus replied, shaking his head. ‘What are you going to do with her? We are soldiers Fergus. We have no time to look after slaves. If you are looking for a quick shag, then have it done with and then return her to the slavers. You are a fool if you do anything else.’

  ‘That’s enough,’ Fergus growled. ‘I have made up my mind. She is not for sale. That’s the end of it.’

  ‘Fine,’ Aledus said raising his eyebrows. Then he gave him a playful slap on his back. ‘Most of the company are off drinking followed by the whorehouses and the amphitheatre but I was wondering, now that you are such a rich man, whether you would like to come and join me for some proper gambling? I know a few veterans who organise a game close by. They seem to have deep pockets. Come on, I am feeling lucky today.’

  Chapter Twenty-Six – Number Twenty-One

  The five-army veterans, older men clad in civilian attire, sat on the stone steps of the temple staring unhappily at the dice.

  ‘See I told you that it was my lucky day,’ Aledus cried out with a wide grin, as he scooped up the coins lying beside the dice. ‘Better luck next time boys. You should pray to Jupiter harder. Maybe he will throw you a bone.’

  ‘Cocky bastard,’ one of the older men growled with an annoyed shake of his head. ‘I bet you won’t be lucky like that twice in a row. Well, what do you say punk. Fancy another wager?’

  ‘I am in,’ Fergus snapped as he looked down at the three dice and placed his last silver coin into the growing pile. He shouldn’t be doing this he knew but he was going to do it anyway. The excitement
of the game, the lure of the stakes was too much. He could do this. He could win again. He’d had moderate success in the early stages of the gambling, but for the last six straight throws he’d lost. But on the seventh go his luck would turn. It had to, Fergus thought. The eight of them were sitting on the temple steps in the middle of the Forum. It was afternoon and the dull, grey clouds covered the whole sky. Around the gamblers the Forum was crowded with people coming and going, but no one seemed to pay them the slightest interest. Titula, her hand bounds tightly together with her belt, sat behind Fergus staring at the dice in sullen silence. She had still not said a word but in the excitement of the game, that was just as well Fergus thought.

  ‘Sorry boys but I think I am done for the day. The whores are getting impatient. They are lusting after my presence,’ Aledus said with a cocky grin as he glanced at the veterans. ‘You will just have to play this hand without me.’

  ‘Suit yourself,’ one of the veterans growled. Then smoothly the man turned to carefully size Fergus up. ‘This round we are tripling the odds, so that’s three silver from you,’ the man said gesturing at the pile of coins.

  Fergus froze. He didn’t have any more money. From the corner of his eye he noticed Aledus turn to look at him. His friend gave him a little shake of his head. Slowly Fergus turned back to stare at the coins. The money glinted in the light beckoning to him. He shouldn’t be doing this. He shouldn’t.

  ‘I don’t have any more coins on me,’ he grunted.

  One of the veterans, a hard-looking man of around fifty with an angry white scar across his cheeks sneered.

  ‘You look like a wealthy man. What with a slave in tow? It’s three silver coins or you can fuck off.’

  Fergus sighed and stared at the coins. If he won this round, he would win back all his losses and then some. He could do this. His luck was bound to change.

  ‘Alright, I shall have to owe you,’ he growled. ‘Like I said I don’t have the coins.’

  ‘Like hell you will,’ one of the gamblers growled. ‘We don’t do credit. You pay up now or you fuck off.’

  But the man was sharply cut off by another of the veterans.

  ‘No,’ the man said with sudden authority. ‘He has that slave girl. He is not going to default on his debts if he loses. She will cover his debts, no matter what.’

  ‘The girl is not for sale,’ Fergus snapped.

  The man with the angry scar grinned and around him his comrades broke out into unfriendly laughter.

  ‘We don’t want to buy her,’ one of the veterans said. ‘If you lose we will just use her for an evening. That should cover your debts. We will return her to you in one piece.’

  Fergus took a deep breath and looked down at the money. Then without warning from behind him Titula suddenly leaned forwards and clasped hold of Fergus’s wrist and as she did, the veterans burst out laughing.

  ‘See, she does understand Latin,’ one of the men cried out with an amused look. ‘The girl knows exactly what is going on.’

  Irritably, Fergus wrenched himself free from Titula’s grip and turned to look at her. The girl was staring at him with a frightened look.

  ‘Alright, I am in,’ Fergus growled turning back to the gamblers, ‘but you are not touching my slave. If I lose I will pay you the debts within three days. I make that promise on the honour of the Second Company of the Second Cohort of the Twentieth Legion.’

  Around the pile of coins, the veterans sucked in their breath. For a moment, they were silent as they glanced at the man with the scar.

  ‘If you don’t pay,’ the man said at last staring at Fergus with a calm but menacing look, ‘we will find you and cut your balls off and feed them to the fish in the river. Do you understand what I am saying? We don’t take kindly to pricks who don’t pay their debts?’

  ‘Shut up,’ Fergus retorted glaring at the man. ‘I have given you my word. That is enough. Anyway, I am not going to lose.’

  The man with the scar turned to his comrades and gestured at the dice.

  ‘Let them speak,’ the man growled.

  Tensely Fergus stared at the dice lying in the bottom of the leather cup. His luck had held and four of the five veterans had been knocked out of the game. The only ones’ left was himself and the man with the angry scar. Across from him the veteran glared and leaned forwards.

  “I will raise you,” the man sneered, “Triple again, nine silver coins. You think you have the balls to follow that?”

  Fergus hesitated and then slowly exhaled. Nine silver coins was a lot of money, which he didn’t have. Wearily he looked down at the dice in the cup. There was only one man left to beat, a fifty-fifty chance.

  “Bring it on,” he snapped defiantly, jutting his chin at the veteran.

  With a grin the man picked up the cup, gave it a shake and rolled the dice. Then the veteran hissed in delight. A six, a five and a four.

  Fergus reached out, grasped hold of the dice and dropped them into the cup and gave them a good shake. Then silently he muttered a prayer to the gods and rolled the dice out onto the stones. A one, another one and a two. Fergus groaned and closed his eyes in dismay as his opponent whooped in delight.

  ‘Come on mate, we should go,’ Aledus said quietly.

  Fergus nodded as he stiffly rose to his feet and, as he did the veterans did the same. ‘You owe me eight silver coins,’ the veteran with the scar snapped, jabbing a finger at Fergus. ‘I will expect payment in three days’ time. Come and find me here on these temple steps. And don’t think about not showing up. If you don’t, we will come and find you and don’t think that the army will protect you. We know everything there is to know about the legions, so you had better have the money by then, punk.’

  And with a final sneer at Titula, the five veterans scooped up the coins and dice from the temple steps and stomped off into the crowd.

  ‘Stupid, stupid, stupid,’ Fergus hissed hitting his forehead with his fist. ‘What was I thinking? Why do I always do this?’

  ‘I don’t have that kind of money,’ Aledus said looking away. ‘None of the boys have. You shouldn’t ask them Fergus; it’s too great a sum.’

  ‘I know, I know,’ Fergus muttered glumly. Then he took a deep breath and turned to look at Titula. The slave girl lowered her eyes and stared down at her feet.

  ‘Alright, I will figure something out,’ Fergus said with a sigh. ‘Maybe Furius will lend me the money. I shall have to ask him.’

  ‘Don’t mess with this those men,’ Aledus said turning warily to look in the direction in which the veterans had disappeared. ‘They are not men you should cross. They are locals. They will know what goes on around here. We are going to be here all winter so you are not going to be able to avoid them.’

  ‘I said I would figure something out,’ Fergus said in an irritated voice as he rounded on his friend.

  ‘Good,’ Aledus retorted turning to look away.

  A sullen silence followed. Then Aledus shook his head in disbelief and chuckled.

  ‘Damn Fergus, you are shit at gambling. Did you know that. You always lose. You never know when to stop do you.’ Aledus chuckled again. ‘So I am thinking about joining the lads in the tavern and drinking until I pass out. What are you going to do? What are you going to do with the girl?’

  Fergus glanced at Titula.

  ‘I told you, I am not going to sell her,’ he growled. ‘And about tonight, I am sorry, I won’t be joining you.’

  ‘That’s probably for the best, none of the boys would want to buy you drinks all night anyway,’ Aledus said with a cheeky grin.

  ‘I will take her back to our camp,’ Fergus said ignoring the jibe. ‘I am going to ask Titus if he will allow her to stay in the same quarters as his slaves. The girl will be able to help cook, clean, repair stuff and whatever other chores that need to be done. She will have a roof over her head and she won’t starve. That’s the best I can think of right now.’

  Aledus glanced at the slave girl and then slowly shook his he
ad.

  ‘I still think you are mad,’ he muttered. ‘She is going to run away at the first chance she gets. I would if I was her.’

  ***

  It was morning when Fergus, accompanied by Furius set off into the forest. Both were clad in their winter cloaks with hoods and both were carrying hunting bows. Quivers, filled with arrows, were slung over their shoulders and both were carrying their short swords strapped to their belts. It had been Furius’s idea that they go hunting on their second day of leave and Fergus had not objected. Above them the sky was overcast and it was a dry October day. The morning air felt crisp and cold, a perfect day to go out hunting. Behind them, amongst the newly-completed barracks of the Cohort’s winter quarters, smoke from the legionary cooking fires curled lazily into the sky. The silence was broken by a single, barking dog. The men who had decided to remain in the camp would be taking it easy today Fergus thought, and most would no doubt be wanting to sleep off their hangovers. Most of the company however had elected to stay the night in town, sampling its delights. They were expected back before nightfall.