Soldier of Rome: Heir to Rebellion (The Artorian Chronicles)

by James Mace

  “It is a hard time my men have been through. Their spirits were broken and I needed to find a way to mend them. We know that Roman troops are headed this way, or at least they will be soon. Therefore we will not be staying long. All we want is to leave here as free men, allowed to return to our lands and our homes.” It was only a half truth. Indeed, Heracles intended to burn the estate down upon the heads of Diana and all that Proculus held dear. He would have his way with her first, of course. Oh yes, she was a woman with a fiery spirit, and he would have much fun with her. What a shame it would be when he disemboweled her and left her to slowly burn to death. Such a waste. But for now, he would play the gracious guest.

  “I admit that Sacrovir’s revolt was a foolhardy expedition. It couldn’t even gather popular support from most of the people. The Romans destroyed Sacrovir’s dream with only a pair of legions. These men are all that remains of that dream. All they want is to be allowed to live. They have no hope anymore.”

  “So I am but a pawn for you to use in order to attain your freedom.” Diana’s glare turned even darker. Heracles could only shrug and raise his hands in acceptance.

  “It is an awkward situation, for me as well, for I know who you are, Diana Procula. I know that your cousin, Valerius Proculus commands a Cohort of Roman troops not far from here. Your relation to him gives us our best hope at survival. I do hope this situation will be over for all of us soon enough.” With that he turned and left.

  “Oh it will be!” Diana said through clenched teeth. She closed her eyes and prayed that the men she had seen on the wall knew their business, and that they were not alone.

  Kiana woke from her slumber and sat up, wrapping the blanket around her shoulders.

  “What is happening, my Lady?” she asked.

  “Our friends are coming,” Diana said quietly, eyes fixed on the door Heracles had just exited through. Kiana allowed herself a brief smile.

  “There’s the gate,” Decimus whispered. A large courtyard dominated the area leading to the main gate. There was really no way to be stealthy once they made their way towards the gate, even in the darkness. The soldiers watched as four men laughed and joked, while leaning up against the gate. Decimus knew that just beyond, Centurion Macro and the rest of the Century waited. Another guard stood on top of the wall, above the gate. He seemed to be the only one remotely sober, and the only one who was watching outside the estate.

  “That one’s yours,” Decimus whispered to Gavius, pointing the man out to him. The younger legionary nodded.

  “Come on,” Decimus said to Carbo. He stood up and grabbed a torch off a nearby wall. “Watch for the signal.”

  “What’s the signal?” Gavius asked.

  “Yeah, what is the signal?” Carbo reiterated. Decimus could only smile at them.

  “You will see,” he answered as he started to walk towards the men at the gate, Carbo close behind him. Gavius waited in the shadows, balancing a javelin in his hands.

  “Top of the morning to you all!” Decimus said boisterously as he walked up to the men, smiling and good natured.

  “Who in the bloody fuck are you?” one of the drunken men spat, ale streaming down the side of his face.

  “Only a friend of the estate owner,” Decimus replied, his expression never changing. Before the men could react to his words, he slammed the torch into the face of the gladiator closest to him. The man let out a scream as the flames singed his hair and scorched his face, his beard catching fire. Carbo brought his gladius down in a stab to the groin of one of the surprised rebels. Decimus swung the torch in a backhand swing, smashing it against the head of another. As the man fell to the ground, Carbo thrust his gladius underneath the jaw of the remaining guard.

  As quickly as the fight ended, they looked up at the wall, searching for the remaining sentry. They then looked down to see him lying stricken on the ground, a javelin protruding from his chest, his body twitching in the throes of death. Gavius came walking into the torchlight, the other javelin in his hands.

  “Alright,” Decimus nodded. “Let’s get this damn gate open.”

  The last sentries had been cleared from the wall. Artorius looked around pleased. He gazed over towards the main gate, and saw the lone sentry sprout a javelin from his torso and fall from the wall. The Sergeant smiled to himself. He was then glad that he had allowed Gavius to bring a pair of javelins. Just then he heard the sounds of shouting and watched as several men ran towards the main house from down below.

  “Ah damn it!” he cursed. “Come on!” Quickly he descended the steps leading below, breaking into a sprint as the men made their way to the house. With all his strength, he body tackled one, knocking him into a nearby fountain. Magnus wrapped his powerful arms around another’s neck, snapping it. Valens stabbed yet another in the belly. As the last one continued to run, Artorius drew his dagger and flung it at the man. It embedded itself deep into the base of his neck. The gladiator in the fountain was unconscious, Artorius finishing him with a stab to the heart from his gladius. Felix then smacked him on the shoulder and pointed towards a balcony.

  “Sergeant, I saw movement up there earlier that looked to possibly be a woman. I’m going to go check it out.” Artorius looked around and saw that by climbing the fountain the young legionary could possibly jump up and grab the balcony.

  “Alright, but be careful. First sign of trouble, you get out of there! We’ll find another way up since I don’t think any of us can get up there encumbered as we are.”

  “Understood,” Felix replied as he started to undo the straps on his armor.

  Centurion Macro paced back and forth in the grove. It was taking too long. The sun would be up soon, and he had neither seen nor heard from Artorius’ section. He figured a direct assault now would be extremely costly, even with the gladiators being in a state of inebriation. They still had the legionaries outnumbered, plus they had the best defensive position. No, everything hinged on Artorius being able to get the gate open. Macro watched intently, eyes never leaving the sentry he saw on top of the gate. Suddenly the man was gone. It was as if he had disappeared. Macro smiled and nodded to Flaccus. The Century was on its feet, ready to spring.

  “Come on, come on,” he muttered, watching and waiting. Then he saw the gate being forced open from the inside. As soon as it was open, a lone figure inside started waving a torch frantically back and forth.

  “Second Century on me!” the Centurion shouted, taking off at a dead run towards the gate. As he rushed inside, he saw Decimus standing there with the torch. With him were Gavius and Carbo.

  “Century on line!” Macro ordered. “Where is Sergeant Artorius?”

  “He is around here somewhere, Sir,” Decimus answered. “We were going to go find him now.”

  “Alright, go,” Macro answered. “Optio Flaccus, I’ll keep the blocking force here. You take the rest and root those bastards out. Drive them into us.”

  “You got it,” Flaccus answered. He then drew his gladius. “Come on!” he shouted as thirty-four men followed him towards the main house.

  Heracles had been unable to sleep that night. His plan for destroying the Roman garrison at Lugdunum had come unraveled, and yet he could not help but feel pleased with himself for what he had accomplished. Many of the traitors had been purged and he laughed at the thought of Roman soldiers trying to track down him and his men. They came close once, but thankfully Heracles had never been one to allow expendable slaves into his darkest thoughts.

  What he cursed himself for was his impatience; he had failed to uphold the one virtue that had gotten him this far. He thought that after his killing spree perhaps he could rally the citizens of Lugdunum to his cause. Such a foolish notion! These Gauls were but sheep; sheep that had been frightened into obedient submission once more following Sacrovir’s failed rebellion.

  Ah, but what a prize he now possessed! To have captured the estate belonging to the local legionary commander was better than he could have hoped. To think that only rece
ntly he had killed the previous owner for failing to take up arms against Rome once more! The Lady Diana was a trophy in her own right, certainly. Heracles had not felt a woman’s touch in many years; not since his wife had been taken from him. Would he be able to perform with Diana, should the opportunity arise? Many of his men had been eyeing the girl Kiana as well. She had pretty much outlived her usefulness to him, so perhaps it was time to give his men some well-deserved sport.

  A loud commotion and the sound of many running feet interrupted his thoughts. He ran to a balcony and caught sight of numerous Roman soldiers storming the house. He sneered in rage, his eyes growing black as his hatred consumed him. The Lady Diana’s fate was now sealed. She would serve as a pawn to help him escape, and then whether he was able to perform for her or not her body would be the final sacrifice to his revenge.

  Dawn slowly crept in the room. Kiana was now wide awake. Neither she nor Diana knew what was happening, and they both felt helpless. Diana ran to the balcony, desperately seeing if she could tell what was happening. There were several bodies strewn around the fountain below. What she could not see was Legionary Felix directly beneath the balcony, who had just finished removing his armor and was making ready to climb the fountain. Diana rushed back inside and started removing blankets from her bed.

  “Help me with this,” she directed Kiana. “There doesn’t appear to be any of those thugs left alive outside. We can tie the blankets to the balcony and climb down.”

  “Yes my Lady,” Kiana acknowledged. Suddenly the door to Diana’s room was flung open. She was unsurprised to see Heracles standing there and was a bit unnerved by his demeanor. His good nature had evaporated. His eyes seethed with hatred, and he held a dagger, her dagger, in his right hand. Kiana knelt in the corner behind the door, terrified.

  “You are coming with me, bitch!” he snarled as he rushed towards her. She reached up and grabbed hold of his wrist with one hand and tried to push him away with the other. Heracles was startled by her strength. In a panic he swung hard with his left hand and punched her across the mouth. He then wrapped his arm around her neck and placed the point of the dagger at her throat.

  “If I am to die, I’m taking you with me! So you had best be a cooperative little harlot. Now move!”

  “Leave her alone, she hasn’t done anything!” Kiana snapped as she stood before them. Heracles sneered and slammed Diana’s head into the wall, momentarily knocking her senseless. He then grabbed Kiana gruffly by the hair and threw her across the room, where she fell next to the balcony. Before Diana could react, Heracles had the dagger at her throat once more.

  “Young Kiana, you were such a fool,” he said as they stepped out of the room. “You played the part so well. I release you from my service. Die in whatever manner the Romans see fit for you.” Kiana heard the door being bolted as soon as it was shut.

  She was then startled by further noise and commotion. Men were racing past her door, shouting in loud voices and suddenly she was afraid. These men, Heracles in particular, were inherently evil. She shuddered to think that she had allowed that man to brainwash her into believing she was helping her people when in reality it had led to murder and butchery. She knew why the men were running; they had been found, and their time of retribution had come. She then feared that she would be used as a hostage, or worse killed by the thugs in their state of panic.

  She heard a clambering outside the window and saw a young man in a legionary tunic pull himself through the window. Kiana immediately recognized Legionary Felix.

  “We’ve got to go,” he said once he regained his footing. A coil of rope was slung over his shoulder; off the other hung his gladius. Felix removed the rope and started tying an end to the bed post.

  “What are you doing here?” Kiana asked.

  “I promised your sister I would get you out of here before something really bad happens to you,” he replied while synching the rope. “Looks like I got here just in time. Where is the Lady Diana?”

  “They took her away,” Kiana replied, her voice shaking. “Felix…I am so sorry for all the hurt I have brought to you and my sister.” Felix shook his head as he uncoiled the rope.

  “It’s alright,” he replied, looking up at her with a smile. She smiled back, her heart full of hope for the first time. “What matters is we get you out of here and return you safe to Tierney and all those who love you.” At that moment the door was kicked in.

  Radek stood with a look of surprise and rage. He growled and lunged at Felix, slicing open the legionary’s belly with a backhand slash of his cleaver before the young man could draw his gladius. Felix collapsed onto the bed, grimacing in extreme pain. Radek raised his cleaver to strike again when Kiana pounced on his back, vainly attempting to strangle him.

  “You bastard!” she screamed as Radek slammed her forcibly into the wall. Her vision clouded as the wind was knocked from her. He then spun around and swung his cleaver in a rage, the blade tearing through her jugular. Kiana collapsed against the wall, her eyes wide in terror as she frantically fought to stop the torrent of blood.

  “Filthy bitch,” Radek swore in a low voice. As he turned back to finish the gravely wounded legionary, Felix summoned the last of his strength, drew his gladius and plunged his weapon into Radek’s groin. As the stricken rebel howled in immeasurable pain brought on by his severed genitalia and punctured bladder, Felix grabbed him by the back of the head, dragging him to the ground, his own mortal wounds blinding him with agony. He withdrew his gladius and in a rough sawing motion severed Radek’s head from his spine. As the floor became saturated with blood, Felix dropped his weapon and crawled on his side over to where Kiana lay dying. Her hand was still clasped to the side of her neck, blood gushing from the wound. Her eyes were wide, her breath coming in short gasps.

  “Sister, I am so sorry,” Felix said as he clutched her free hand. Kiana squeezed his hand and weakly shook her head.

  “No,” she whispered. “It is I who brought about our deaths. Oh Felix, I am so sorry…I would like to have become your little sister…” Her breathing became shallow and then ceased altogether; a final tear falling from her eye, her hand giving Felix’s one last squeeze before life abandoned her. The legionary rolled to his back, one hand clutching his ruptured abdomen, the other Kiana’s now lifeless hand. He sobbed uncontrollably as pain and sorrow overtook him.

  “Over here!” Magnus shouted as he pointed to an outside door that led into the hallway parallel to the room Felix had breached from below.

  “Let’s go!” Artorius shouted as he rushed up the short flight of stairs. The landing inside was short, just long enough for three rooms to occupy. The last door was open; a pool of blood flowing onto the landing.

  “Dear gods, no,” Artorius said in a low voice. A horrifying sight greeted him as he stepped into the gore-stricken room. On the right side lay the decapitated corpse of Heracles’ deputy, that vile bastard Radek. In the near corner on his left he saw the lifeless body of Kiana lying next to the stricken Legionary Felix, who was sobbing weakly as the pain of his terrible wound consumed him.

  “I’m sorry Sir,” he said as Artorius knelt down to tend to him. “I’m so sorry…please…please tell Tierney I’m sorry.”

  “There’s nothing to be sorry for,” the Decanus replied as he picked up the fallen soldier. Felix gave fresh cry of pain as Artorius laid him on the bed. He grimaced when he saw how badly the legionary was wounded. The abdomen was sliced cleanly open and was seeping blood and fluid. He lowered his head and closed his eyes, not even acknowledging the presence of Magnus and the rest of his section.

  “Artorius, there’s no sign of…dear gods,” Magnus stopped short when he saw the wounded legionary. He scarcely paid any heed to the corpses or the blood that was sticking to his caligae sandals. Valens shook his head sadly as he eyed to horrific sight. He knelt next to Kiana’s body and gently closed her eyes.

  “You have to go,” Felix said between gasps. “There’s…nothing you can do for me.
” Artorius shook his head and immediately started tearing into the bed sheets, making a hasty bandage.

  “You don’t die until I tell you to!” he said as he wrapped the sheets around the legionary’s torso. He rolled up one section into a ball, which he placed directly over the wound before tying it down. “We’ll get you help as soon as we can. You just stay alive; you hear me?” Felix nodded, tears flowing freely down his cheeks.

  From the commotion coming from the courtyard, Artorius surmised that Macro and the rest of the Century had breached the gate. The alarm had been raised once they did, but it did not matter now. It was quickly getting light out, and he desperately wanted to link up with the rest of his unit. Someone had to go fetch help, lest Felix die a slow and agonizing death. The lad had come with him with the purest of intentions and there was no way he was going to let him die.

  Quickly they descended the outside steps and raced towards where they knew the front gate to be. As Artorius rounded a corner, as spear flew from a nearby balcony. It had a wide blade for a head, and it imbedded itself deep into his thigh, the tip impacting the bone.

  “Son of a bitch!” he screamed in pain, as Magnus and Valens caught him. As he wrenched the weapon from his leg, he saw a Roman javelin come sailing from the lower right of the balcony, skewing the thrower, who pitched over the side. Artorius looked over to see Decimus with Carbo and Gavius, who had thrown the javelin.

  “Are you alright?” Decimus asked as he rushed over to his Sergeant.

  “It’s not bleeding too badly,” Artorius observed, taking a deep breath. “It will probably start hurting like hell once this rush of adrenaline wears off!” With that he limped off with the rest of his section towards where they guessed the rest of their Century was.

  “Where’s Felix?” Carbo asked.

  “He’s hurt badly,” Magnus replied as he braced Artorius upright. “We have to get him help or he’s not going to make it.”