‘But the lad…’
‘Will be well cared for. What’s your alternative?’
Marcus knocked respectfully at the door, standing back and taking off his helmet. It opened, an older woman, wiping at tear-filled eyes with the hem of her sleeve, standing in the opening.
‘Centurion?’
‘Ma’am. I’m Morban’s officer and I heard he might be here. Could I come in for a moment?’
She ushered him in, the four of them practically filling the room. Morban’s grandson crouched in a corner, his knees pulled up to his chest and his head buried between them. Marcus squatted down to his level, putting out a hand to touch the boy’s face, lifting it with one finger under his chin. Guessing the boy’s age to be nine or ten, he looked into his wet eyes and felt the loss and loneliness he was suffering. Memories of another little boy of the same age flooded over him, reminding him of a past happiness he hadn’t given thought to for many days. He stood up again, turning to the woman with a small bow.
‘Ma’am, so that you can understand my position regarding this unhappy situation, my parents were both killed earlier this year, as were my older sisters and younger brother. If anyone in this room has an understanding of what that boy’s going through, it would be me.’
The woman’s face softened a little with the words.
‘You both think you’ve got a claim on the boy, one through blood, the other through an ability to provide the upbringing he needs. Now, I could simply enforce the law and tell you that the cohort has first claim on the lad, simple as that. And, ma’am, there would be nothing you could do to stop me. However…’
He put a hand up to quell the rising concern he saw in her face, shaking his head at Morban as his mouth started to open.
‘However… from my unique perspective, I happen to believe that there’s only one person in this room that can make the decision as to what should be done with him. I also think you should both stop to consider the effect your argument is having on that person.’
Morban turned his head to look at the wall, a single tear running down his face. Marcus squatted down again.
‘What’s your name, young man?’
The boy lifted his tear-streaked face, his voice quavering.
‘My mother called me Corban. Dad used to call me Lupus for a nickname…’
‘Very well, little wolf, you have a choice to make. It isn’t an easy one, but nobody else can make it for you, no matter how good their intentions might be. You grandmother wants you to go home with her, and live in her village. There’ll be other boys of your age to play with, and you’ll be able to learn a trade of some kind as you get older. Your grandfather wants you to stay here on the Hill, and grow up to be a soldier like him and your father, but you can’t join until you’ve seen fourteen summers, which is still a long time away, and you can’t stay here without anyone to look after you. Before you choose, I’ll give you a third choice. I’ll take you on as my servant, which will mean that you have to keep my clothes clean and polish my boots and armour every day. I’ll have you taught to read and write and, when you’re old enough, you’ll be able to choose whether you want to become a soldier or not. Also, I’ll make sure that you go and see your grandmother twice a year. So, which do you choose?’
The boy thought for a moment.
‘I want to be a soldier like my dad.’
‘Well, you can’t, not yet. You’re too young for one thing, and I don’t think we have any armour in your size. You can either take my offer or go back to your grandmother’s village. Either way you can volunteer for service when you’re old enough.’
‘I’ll work for you.’
‘Centurion.’
‘I’ll work for you, Centurion.’
Marcus stood up, turning to face Morban and the old woman.
‘He’s made his decision. You, Morban, will be responsible for his good behaviour, and for ensuring that he isn’t corrupted by bad language and poor behaviour. You will also be responsible for making sure that he spends time with his grandmother as promised, when the cohort isn’t on campaign. And you, ma’am, should be aware that he’s now effectively on imperial service, albeit as a civilian. I guarantee that he’ll be educated by the time he’s old enough to volunteer for the military, and that he’ll have the best possible start in life we can give him. I’ve got at least one man in the century that has more learning than I do, and we’ll make sure he pays attention.’
Morban turned to face her, putting a hand out to hold hers.
‘He’ll have fifty parents in the Ninth. I swear he’ll come to no harm.’
She thought for a long moment, and then nodded with resignation.
Marcus looked her in the eyes, feeling tears of his own distorting his vision.
‘If there’s one thing I understand, ma’am, it’s how that youngster’s feeling right now. I’ll be his big brother for as long as he needs me. After what these people have done for me, it’s my chance to repay some of my debt.’
He bent to the boy, putting a hand out while the other wiped his eyes dry.
‘Come on, then, wolf cub, let’s be about our business. We’ve got a century to get into shape.’
The pair walked out of the door hand in hand, turning up the street towards the main gate, drawing surprised glances from a pair of passing soldiers. They turned to make a ribald comment from the security of the shadows, saw the look on Morban’s face as he emerged behind them, and immediately thought better of it. The standard-bearer watched his officer and his grandson from the doorway as they progressed up the hill, losing sight of them as they passed the soldiers on guard. He turned to follow them up the road, muttering quietly under his breath to himself with a determination he hadn’t felt for many days.
‘Don’t you worry, Centurion, my lads are going to follow you any fucking place you command. Or I’ll know the reason why.’
FB2 document info
Document ID: fbd-4b610a-8bd4-f849-a292-312a-a40d-4250d5
Document version: 2
Document creation date: 26.01.2011
Created using: Fiction Book Designer, FictionBook Editor Release 2.6 software
Document authors :
About
This file was generated by Lord KiRon's FB2EPUB converter version 1.1.5.0.
(This book might contain copyrighted material, author of the converter bears no responsibility for it's usage)
Этот файл создан при помощи конвертера FB2EPUB версии 1.1.5.0 написанного Lord KiRon.
(Эта книга может содержать материал который защищен авторским правом, автор конвертера не несет ответственности за его использование)
http://www.fb2epub.net
https://code.google.com/p/fb2epub/
Wounds of Honour e-1 Page 37