“While my sword arm is still strong, General. And that comes as no surprise.”
“This is not where I want you to be, for you will be most vulnerable to fatal blows. You are right in saying that you are an expensive investment and I wish to protect it. Let me say again, you will not draw a lot with your men, for what if you draw the white? But on the question of crucifixion, my mind is not determined one way or the other, though as it has been described to me, it would be a most unseemly way for a warrior to die. What other methods of punishment in the Roman manner could be called upon?”
“General,” said Nonus, “Roman law says that the legionaries who draw a white pebble could also be beheaded, whipped or clubbed to death, strangled, or buried alive. But I would caution against leniency. Setting a soft example would be no example at all.”
*
At dawn the following morning, the legionaries were drawn up in their ranks. A barrel containing eighty pebbles was placed beside each century, five white pebbles secreted among the black across the sixty barrels. The gods thus chose five legionaries from more than 5,000 to pay for the crimes of others.
When it was the turn of Appias to walk out of the lines to pick out his fate, white or black, Rufinius said to him, “Only two white pebbles have been taken. There are three left and it wouldn’t be right if one fell into your hand. You are not a legionary and we do not consider you one. You have not volunteered or been pressed into service. You walk in the line embedded as an observer only.”
The tribune then defied the order given by General Saikan, went to the barrel in the historian’s stead, lifted a pebble, and displayed it to an overseer.
“Black!” the overseer called out, taking the pebble and holding it aloft so that all could see, as was the practice.
The legionaries cheered this result as loudly as they booed the white pebbles, for it was known among the men that Rufinius had been denied the lottery by their Xiongnu masters. That he defied them and placed himself in the hands of the gods – just as they had been forced to do – made them love him all the more.
Many legionaries began to call out his name and salute. Others broke ranks and raced to touch him. Overseers jostled to remove Rufinius, and were accompanied by hordes of mounted Parthian archers who advanced on the centuries to quell the ruckus with arrows notched and bowstrings drawn.
The legionaries who selected white pebbles were held until the lottery was completed. They were then made to kneel beside the barrels and their hands were tied behind them to their ankles. A Parthian of immense size came forward with a heavy sword in hand, its blade unusually curved like a crescent moon. After several practice swings he swung it against an exposed neck. In this manner, four of the five had their heads separated clean. The fifth and last, a mercenary from Crete, a big man with powerful shoulders, took three chops to get the job done. And while these men were being dispatched, a hush of respect fell across the army and not a sound was heard but the grunt of the executioner, the hiss of the wind and the sound of metal through wet meat.
Later, signs painted on wood were hung on each corpse that read, “He pays for another’s misdeed.” And for the entire day the legions were ordered to remain standing, facing the dead, watching birds go about their grisly ways as legionaries dropped from the ranks, baked unconscious by the fearsome sun.
*
While the men stood in their ranks on the plain, Rufinius was brought before General Saikan in the privacy of his tent.
“What am I to do with you now?” said Saikan, accompanied by Translator Bataar who spoke Xiongnu, Pahlawānīg and Aramaic and the Syrian overseer who spoke Aramaic and Latin.
“The conundrum is of your own making, General,” Rufinius answered.
“Nonus says I should have you strangled in front of your men.”
“Nonus is a criminal who bears a grudge,” said Rufinius plainly.
“He tells me things you would not.”
“Along with his words, weigh his motives.”
The general shouted a command and two Parthian swordsmen entered and removed Rufinius to a secluded place away from the centuries. They bound his arms and placed him in a deep hole dug in the desert sand. And there he remained, forced to snap with his teeth, gnashing at the birds attempting to steal his eyes until exhausted, he fell unconscious.
Episode III
Appias
Li-ch’ien, province of Gansu, Chin
a.d. VIII Id. Oct. 750 AUC
8 October, 4 BC
It has been at least a month since Viridia last put brush to silk. It’s the lung fevers. They came upon me and I have been dreadful ill for some weeks. If you could but see my arms … the muscles there seem more fluid than anything else. Apothecary Wu paid me the courtesy of a house call and his solution was to add more bark and insect husks to the concoction Viridia brews for me. I can only hope that my story is finished before I am, and that I have the opportunity to bid farewell to my friend, Protector-General Chen Tang. But enough sentimentality.
And so the march for Rufinius almost came to an end before it barely began. I cannot tell you what was on the mind of General Saikan – whether his intention was for Rufinius to die in the hole dug for him – for he did not share his thinking with me personally. I believe he thought Rufinius an especial man among men, for otherwise why go to such trouble and expense to have him as the legion’s tribune?
But I also believe Saikan struggled to reconcile Rufinius’s greatness casting a shadow over all, himself included, and the tribune a mere slave at that. This state of affairs could not have been easy to bear for a proud man of such stature as the general. Perhaps Saikan was in two minds about a fitting punishment for Rufinius’s insubordination, though certainly one full day buried in the desert was enough to kill most men. I heard an alternative view proposed – that at the time of the tribune’s punishment, Saikan was as yet still unaware of his abilities as a commander and believed if there was one Rufinius within the ranks, perhaps there could be others. To give you the essence of this angle – conceivably the man he had made tribune was not as unique as he had first thought, along with being more trouble than he was worth.
Certainly it is further imaginable that the Roman overseer Nonus, who was also valued by Saikan, may well have put all manner of doubt about Rufinius’s uniqueness in the general’s head, such was his animosity toward the tribune.
The question has been asked many times – did Saikan want Rufinius to die beneath the desert sun that day? Personally, I believe not. He could have left him there overnight, which would have killed Rufinius without a doubt. Saikan may well have wanted Rufinius’s life placed in the balance, so that tipping the scales one way or the other would be in the hands of the gods – or rather his god, Tengri. But I admit that this is all purely conjecture on my part.
As you might have already surmised, the desert did not take Rufinius to its bosom. A squadron of Parthian archers returned him unconscious at nightfall, dumping the tribune at the feet of Dentianus and Libo. After such privation, Alexandricus was indeed close to death. The parts of his body that were exposed – the tops of his shoulders and his head and face – were cracked and swollen by the sun. His skin wept from many blisters and there were lacerations aplenty from the attention of all the birds. In addition, a fever had taken hold of him and when conscious he was given to raving.
Meanwhile, the army continued its march ever eastwards. The legionaries took turns carrying the tribune while he fought for life. Mena, Rufinius’s slave who was now owned by the Xiongnu, was allowed enough freedom to tend to him, permission to do so granted by the general himself. And on the third night, Rufinius’s fever broke. But now my writing hand grows weary.
“Viridia!”
East of the Tigris
a.d. XVII Kal. Qvi. 701 AUC
(16 June, 53 BC)
XXVI
Rufinius opened his eyes and saw his former slave poised over him.
“What horror is this?” he croaked.
Mena, holding a basin of salves for his blisters and other wounds, was far from impressed. “Insults! That’s what I get for bringing you back from the dead?”
“Though you are not the easiest of sights to bear, Mena, it is good to see you,” Rufinius conceded, his voice cracked and broken.
“If that is your apology, then I accept it. The play of night shadows from the candles does my appearance no favors.”
She brought a cup of warm broth to his lips. The water was boiled with various herbs and powders bought and stolen from others in the baggage train.
“What ails me?” Rufinius inquired as he sipped.
“The sun had begun to cook your internals. Another hour in its heat and you would not be with us.”
“How many days have passed since the lottery?”
“Three.”
“Have we marched?”
“The Xiongnu stop for nothing.”
“How is it that you are here?” Rufinius asked.
“I petitioned Saikan, whose fortune I have foretold.”
“Why did the desert not take my life?”
“You were not fated to die, obviously. And, as I pointed out to the general, both your fortunes are tied. If he was to leave you dead, his own tomorrow might be cursed. Also, there were petitions from a council of centurions to Saikan who feared the mood of the men if you were to depart for the underworld.”
“You can no more tell fortunes or weave magic than Carbo,” said Rufinius managing a weak smile.
“If men believe strongly enough in a certain path, who is to say they don’t influence its taking? As for magic, are you not breathing when all believed you on death’s stoop?”
“I’ll not deny you are a witch, Mena.” He placed a hand on her arm. “Thank you.”
“You are welcome, fellow slave.” She lifted his head and made him drink some more of the tepid broth.
He coughed and lay back. “What are our fortunes, Saikan’s and mine? How are they tied?”
“So you believe enough to be inquisitive …”
“Call it curious.” Rufinius felt his strength returning by the moment.
“General Saikan and you will die on the same day.”
“And you know this for fact?”
“I can see it, a day of infinite glory. There will be a momentous battle. You will allow yourself to be struck down by a man from another world in full sight of both armies.”
“A man from another world?”
“Yes.”
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t know.”
“And I will let myself be killed?” he asked, incredulous.
“I cannot tell you how or why.”
“Why not?”
“It has not been revealed to me.”
“I ask again – you know this will come to pass because …?”
“I am old and the gods let me see things.” She gestured at her face. “Compensation for giving me the appearance of a bad dream, perhaps.”
“I see no ugliness.”
“Next you’ll ask me to be your wife.”
“Unlikely.” He managed a grin. “Well, if Saikan believes you can see what is hidden from mortals, and I am here in your care because he believes it, that’s enough for me. At least for now.”
“I will tell the men that you’re back with us,” said Mena, getting up.
“No, let me.”
“You should rest.”
“I’ve been resting for days, have I not?” Rufinius pushed himself to a seated position and the sudden movement caused a fearsome pounding between his ears.
“Drink down all the broth I have made,” Mena said as Rufinius held his head. “Before I go … the Golden Whore asked after you with more than casual interest.”
“Her name is Lucia and she is no whore.”
“Is not her name Andica?”
“Never mind. How do you know her?”
Mena grinned. “Well, well. Interest returned with interest.”
“No games, Mena. How does she fare?”
“You need not worry about that one. She and her sisters are better cared for than even the most exotic animals.”
“Where did you meet her?”
“I chanced upon a few moments of her company when her guards were derelict in their duty, off sampling the delights of Roman comfort. She was most concerned for your health.”
“I have been with her.”
“I know.”
“Don’t tell me you have seen it!”
“No, Andica … Lucia told me. She also said that you should beware of Overseer Nonus.”
“That is already plain.”
“Nonus drugged some guards one night and tried to have carnal relations with her, but she is experienced enough to know the best means of discouragement.”
Rufinius frowned. “She is not harmed?”
“No, but you could not say the same for Nonus.”
“When was this?”
“Some little while ago. Before the lottery.”
Rufinius recalled the vicious scratches on Nonus’s face. “I have seen her work on his face. Why do I only hear of it now?”
“What could you do? What can be done?”
“I don’t know, but I’ll think on it.”
“I’ll return and come better prepared next time,” said Mena. “The overseer spoke of you before attempting to overpower her. He saw the two of you in the arena jousting for the slave master’s pleasure. Raping her is a means of punishing you. I know this, for the word is he prefers not women but girls who have yet to bleed. He enjoys inflicting pain on them and there is much anger about it in the baggage train.”
Rufinius considered this news with consternation.
Mena continued. ”It was Nonus who brought Andica to General Saikan’s attention when he was hunting for gifts for his king. Everything he does is measured by his rancor for you … What bad blood has generated such enmity?”
“He is a man who loves to hate. I am just the current object of his particular lust.” Rufinius considered a possibility once beyond his imagining. “Mena, do you know a potion that could send Lucia’s guards to sleep?”
“They barely need encouragement, but yes, of course.”
“On a night when there is no moon, administer it and then come for me.”
Mena nodded agreement.
“And if you should see Lucia again, thank her for the warning.”
“I will pass it along.”
The former master and slave embraced. “And thank you also, Mena,” said Rufinius.
Taken aback by his show of affection, Mena pushed through the flap and disappeared into the night. Uncertain on his feet, Rufinius left the tent behind her and saw the men of his contubernium sitting around talking, their practice swords stuck idle in the sand.
“Why are drills stalled?” Rufinius picked up a sword and, leaning against the tent pole, swung it slowly. “Appias, are you now such a gladiator that practice is beneath you? Are my orders ignored the second my back is turned?”
Carbo looked at Rufinius as if he had unexpectedly returned from Hades itself. “Primor!” He jumped to his feet. “The hag’s magic worked!”
Dentianus, Libo, and Appias also stood and came to Rufinius and forearms were clasped.
“Come and sit,” Dentianus insisted.
“No, I have been lying around enough for a whole lifetime.”
“You were asking for trouble drawing a lot in my place,” said Appias.
“In truth I thought there would be no consequence,” Rufinius replied.
“I wish to thank you.”
“No one from our century drew a white pebble,” Dentianus added. “You didn’t need to step forward, primor.”
“My luck was bad. Perhaps if I’d drawn a white, no one at all would have been beheaded.”
Libo placed a hand on Rufinius’s shoulder. “When they took you away, we believed you would soon be dining with the gods. Are you okay? You don’t look
it.”
“A plate of stout Parthian beans and I’ll be fine.”
*
A cornicen attached to command sounded, its song picked up and carried throughout the rest of the legion. Rufinius, marching alongside the First Cohort and sharing in the privations of the men, hoped he would have the strength to last the day. But then Translator Bataar arrived, with a spare horse tied to his saddle.
“Come …” he said in Latin, handing Rufinius the reins.
Wondered what was required of him now, the tribune climbed with difficulty onto the animal’s shaggy back and rode beside the translator.
“You speak Latin now,” he said.
“This much.” Bataar showed him a small space between thumb and forefinger.
The two men rode in silence to the Xiongnu banners, waving in the dust, where General Saikan, accompanied by his officers, rode atop weary horses dragging their feet in the sand.
“Masters do not apologize to slaves,” the general said with his eyes holding the horizon when Rufinius drew beside him. “Do not disobey me again.”
“Don’t put me in a place where I must disobey,” Rufinius said, and Bataar translated his reply after giving the tribune a look of disbelief.
The men rode in silence for some time. Eventually, Saikan said, “Though I am not pleased with you, I am relieved that you did not perish.”
“I’m relieved you didn’t allow me to perish.”
“In nature, Alexandricus, there is always an opposite. Water and fire; night and day; heat and cold. Without one, there cannot be the other. This is how chaos is ordered.”
“Are you talking about Nonus?” Rufinius asked.
“You are stronger because of him.”
“And you have lost five good legionaries because of him.”
“Without bad there can be no good,” Saikan replied. “Yin and Yang. It is a Han philosophy, but that is the world.”
“What else will you lose because of him?”
“What else will I gain?”
Rufinius looked at the general, whose eyes were still fixed straight ahead. “I am told our fates are tied.”
Field of Mars (The Complete Novel) Page 27