Sons of Rome

by Karrie Roman

  “You have already taken him as a lover?” Marcus finally asked.

  “I have.” Drusus waited for further comment from Marcus. Some of his men would be guided in their response to the news by Marcus’s.

  “I am pleased for you, Drusus. It will be good to see you happy. We could all see from his arrival that Caius makes you so.”

  This startled Drusus, who had thought he had disguised his feelings well.

  Marcus laughed. “It was easy to spot, Drusus. We only had to see how you looked at him in a way you looked at no other. I could see the fight within you not to reach out and touch him whenever he was near. I recognised it.”

  Drusus truly blushed now that he knew how much of himself he had revealed to his men. He had no idea his desires had been so plain.

  Marcus laughed again at his discomfort, but it was not a cruel laugh. Drusus hoped this meant Marcus had accepted his relationship with Caius. Marcus had admitted to recognising an urgent desire for someone and, if Cal was correct, then it might well be him who Marcus ached to reach out and touch. Marcus would be hurting. It was the last thing he wanted for his friend.

  “I will speak to the men. I would have them know he shares my bed, Marcus.”

  “Your men are loyal to you and they love you, Drusus. They will be pleased, as I am, even if I wish it were…” Marcus shook his head and looked away. “Forget my wish. The men will be pleased.” Marcus smiled, but it looked forced to Drusus.

  Drusus was unsure whether or not to address Marcus’s feelings with him. He settled for clasping him on the shoulder with affection, frightened that speaking of it may embarrass his friend.

  “Marcus, there is another matter which I must speak to the men of, but I would share it with you first.”

  As Drusus shared the plot against them with Marcus, he watched his friend take the news with the same equanimity he always seemed to possess. He was an unflinchingly tough but calm man, qualities which made for an excellent leader and soldier. Drusus was glad he had him as his optio.

  “We will speak with the men immediately. I will ensure we drill rigorously each day,” Marcus exclaimed, never for a second showing any doubt they would overcome this potential crisis.

  “Gratitude, as always, Marcus. Your support means everything.”

  “It is my honour. Now, I will go and assemble the men.”

  Drusus followed Marcus out of the room but then turned to make his way back to his own room to awaken Caius. It was important for Caius to be with the assembled century. The men may accept them being lovers, but they would not accept privileged treatment.

  Caius was lying on his stomach, snoring softly when Drusus entered the room. He had no coverings over him so Drusus took a moment to admire his perfect form. Caius was almost half his age, he was taut and firm, his body still mostly unmarred by the scars of battle. He had seen plenty of men’s backs without an inch of unscarred skin over the years. His own body was patterned with many lines where a blade had scored his flesh.

  Drusus approached quietly. He allowed his fingertips to lightly trace the skin down Caius’s spine, enjoying the smoothness. Caius shivered a little as though tickled by Drusus’s touch.

  “Mm, where did you go?” Caius murmured.

  Drusus pressed a kiss to Caius’s shoulder. “The legions have arrived. I went to speak to our prefect.”

  “How did he take the news?” Caius rolled as he spoke so that he was on his side, propped up on one elbow, facing Drusus.

  Drusus ran his fingers through Caius’s hair. It was longer now than when they’d first met, but Drusus knew it must be cut soon. He loved it a little longer as it was now, but legionary had strict rules for their grooming.

  “He took it well, Cai. He believed me. He will speak to others to try to convince them. At least if we are all warned, and Varus persists in marching us into a trap, we may still have a chance.”

  “We are the legions of Roma, Dru. We will be victorious in battle.” Caius smiled.

  Drusus loved Caius’s naivety because it showed him he was yet to be overcome by the woes of a soldier’s life, but he was also wary of his lover’s innocence because it would be a higher fall when the real world of battle tore his eyes open. “I have seen hubris cause downfall before. I will not walk into this trap only relying on our superiority as an army. Arminius knows us well, Cai. He knows how we fight, our strengths, our weaknesses, and he will set his trap accordingly.”

  “Of course. Forgive me,” Caius said. He sounded chastised, but Drusus hadn’t intended that.

  “Nothing to forgive. We will be victorious, but it will be because we are smart and sensible, not just because we are the legions. I will not risk defeat. I will not risk—”

  Caius cupped his hand to Drusus’s cheek, gently brushing his thumb over it. “I would not risk you either.”

  Drusus closed his eyes and leaned into the touch, ridiculously pleased Caius had understood his meaning when his words had faltered.

  “Come. Marcus is assembling the century. I would speak to them now about the plot and about us.”

  “Us?”

  “I will have them know that you share my bed, Cai. I will not sneak around, and I find that I cannot stay away from you.”

  Drusus watched as Caius shivered at his words. He was so young, and Drusus bore the responsibility of protecting him weighing on his shoulders. He must not hurt Caius; he must do all things possible to preserve his tender heart.

  Caius kissed him briefly and then stood to dress. Drusus mourned the covering of his beautiful body, but it wouldn’t do to have Caius walk around naked—as pleasurable as that may be.

  As soon as he was dressed, Drusus pulled him into his arms, kissing him thoroughly. If only his time were his own, Drusus would have Caius naked again already and sink back into his warm body. Again, the knowledge they would never have a time together where they were unconstrained by the demands of the legions set his heart aching. If only the gods would provide him with a different life.

  They walked together to the forum where Drusus knew Marcus would have gathered the men. Haltern was a smaller camp than Vetera, and it was overcrowded now that the Seventeenth and Eighteenth Legions had arrived to join the Nineteenth. The auxiliary would be camped outside of the walls but the sheer numbers assembled here should offer them protection from any tribesmen looking to challenge Roma.

  Marcus called the men to order as soon as he noticed Drusus’s approach. He reluctantly let Caius join the men while he went to stand beside his optio. The men were quiet and respectful as Drusus faced them.

  “It is good to see you all safely arrive,” Drusus began. “We march out on our summer campaign tomorrow, but I would have words with you tonight.”

  Drusus was painfully aware that there were plenty other men not of his century around as the new arrivals settled into Haltern, so he would not be able to speak as plainly as he would like to his men about the plot Segestes had shared with him. It would be dangerous if word got back to Varus, who would no doubt see such action as treasonous. Drusus would have to warn them without the details.

  “Germania is full of many tribes, many of whom are loyal to Roma. We must, however, be cautious of those who may seek independence. As always, we must be vigilant, watchful for any sign of rebellion. We must not forget that some of the territory we enter is hostile and unknown to us. It may prove a disadvantage, so Marcus will be training you all with more vigour than previously. We must be prepared for any surprises or trouble. The mighty Eighteenth Legion will show all who would attack us what we are made of.”

  Drusus looked around at his men with pride. Many legionaries grumbled at the suggestion of extra training or hard work, but his men took the news with calm acceptance. They were true sons of Roma. The possible loss of them sat heavy on his heart, for he knew each of them would fight until death; they would never submit to the shame of surrender or capture. Better to die than fall into the hands of a brutal, vengeful enemy anyway.

&nb
sp; “We will march with the legions each morning, set up our camps in the afternoon, and in the evenings, our century will drill in combat techniques. Especially hand-to-hand, close-contact fighting. It will be hard, and our bodies will ache with fatigue, but we will be the finest century Roma has ever seen.”

  His men cheered at Drusus’s words. He had learned long ago to appeal to a man’s pride and ego when asking much of them. He had little else to offer them but some pride—and their lives.

  Drusus wasn’t interested in shouting to the entire camp about taking Caius into his bed either. Rather, he planned to talk to small groups of his men at a time. With this in mind, he continued, “I will dismiss you to your evening meal shortly, but I will have quiet words with each of you during the meal.”

  Many of his men nodded, while a few looked around curiously. A handful wore a look of smugness—his brother included. Drusus fought the urge to roll his eyes, choosing instead to dismiss the men.

  Drusus waited until they had time to cook their meal and all the men would be in their barrack room before he walked to each room approaching one contubernium after another to share his more personal news. As he approached the final group, he wondered if he’d consciously left this one until last or if it were simply chance. This group held his brother and Caius himself.

  While all other groups had been quietly accepting, Drusus expected teasing from the group that included Calpurnius.

  “You can save your speech, Drusus; we know already what you wish to share.” Calpurnius smirked. “It may be wrong and childish for a younger brother to say to his older brother I told you so, but I’m afraid, brother, that I am one who is not quite ready to entirely give up his childishness.”

  Drusus rolled his eyes, then, unable to help himself as his brother delightedly made him squirm. “Speak the words, Cal.”

  “Very well. I see that I was once again right, brother. I told you as much. I knew the gods themselves could not keep you two apart. It is as though they made you for each other.”

  Suddenly, interested in why Calpurnius was so sure, Drusus asked, “What made you certain, Cal?”

  “I saw it the afternoon we arrived at Vetera. You looked at each other as though you were a meal. I saw hunger in that instant. But, there is more, Dru.” Calpurnius flicked his glance to Caius and Drusus’s gaze followed his. Caius had his head slightly bowed, a slight flush on his cheeks, but there was pride in the way he held himself. “You fit well together in your thoughts, not just your bodies.” Cal winked and Drusus shoved him a little for his words. Calpurnius had not yet outgrown the cheekiness of youth, but in a way Drusus hoped he would not.

  “Aside from my incurable brother, does anyone else have something to say?” Drusus asked, doing his best to maintain some command and dignity. The smile that would not stop creeping across his face probably put paid to that, but he tried nonetheless.

  “We have no issue with you and Caius, Centurion. We know you will not let it interfere in your duties to us and to Roma,” Crassus—one of the older, grizzlier of his men—said.

  “Gratitude, men.” The tension in his shoulders eased now his burdens had been shared. He would not need to concern himself with his men worrying about anything aside from their duties.

  Chapter Nine

  THE SEVENTEENTH, EIGHTEENTH, and Nineteenth Legions of the mighty Roman army marched out of Haltern the very next day. Aside from the threat posed by Arminius, Drusus was looking forward to the campaign. He was a hard worker by nature, and the thought of mornings spent marching, afternoons spent erecting temporary camps, and evenings spent in battle training thrilled him more than wearied him. He only hoped he had a little energy left for his nights with Caius.

  Caius had been a little too tender last night for Drusus to take him again, so they had used their mouths to pleasure each other. As he’d expected, Caius was wholly inexperienced in this, too, but what he lacked in experience he made up for with his enthusiasm. Drusus could not remember anyone taking his cock into their mouths with the same eagerness and passion as Caius.

  The memory of last night was enough to swell Drusus’s cock as he marched alongside his men. It would be a long and trying day if he was unable to get the sight of Caius on his knees before him out of his mind. Or the needy moans, which had slipped from Caius’s lips as Drusus had taken his turn to give him pleasure, out of his ears.

  In a handful of days, they would meet up with allied Germanic contingents to swell their numbers in the auxiliary. Germania had been pacified enough years ago to allow Roman trade to flourish. Varus would lead them, as he had done in years previous, throughout the land between the Rhine and the Elbe. The march of the Roman Legions would both awe and inspire the locals, with Varus stopping to sit in judgement over local disputes. They marched to remind the Germanic tribes of their subjugation. But because of Segestes’s cautions, this year felt different.

  Drusus was entirely unable to get the warning from his mind. Arminius was a proud man, as Drusus was, and Drusus knew he would fight to the death before submitting to foreign conquerors. Was Arminius any different? He thought not, so Segestes’s words of a plot sat heavily on his shoulders.

  Drusus became lost in his thoughts and schemes of how to handle the potential trap. So much so, before he knew it, the trumpet call sounded to halt their march. His century was in the middle of the column today, so none of his men had been called ahead into the vanguard to mark out the marching camp.

  Drusus listened for the trumpet and had his men sit to eat their rations once he’d heard the command in the trumpet sounds. Each man dropped his shield and baggage pole which had a pack suspended from it that held their cloak, bedroll, rations, tools, and other equipment they would need. Their javelins and two camp palisade stakes were also attached to the pole. Around their necks hung their helmets. Everything they needed to survive they carried with them. It was a heavy burden for each man, but they were fit and strong from their labours.

  The road-building party would be marking out the camp while the remainder of the legions ate. Once this was done, they would all march onto the site and erect their tents. Drusus loved the efficiency of the Roman Army. Each man was trained to know exactly where he should be and what he should be doing while the camp was built. Each legionary was as effective with his pick and shovel as with his javelin and shield. This was why Roma had conquered so much of the world. There was order and direction rather than the chaos and disorder he’d often witnessed in their enemies.

  It didn’t take long for the trumpet call commanding the men to continue to the campsite came. His men hastily shoved whatever leftover food they had into their mouths or their packs before reassembling the line. With no small amount of pride, he watched them reform and stand proudly to await their orders.

  They didn’t have far to march to the campsite, which was predictably on a hilltop. The site had been levelled, and with his height Drusus could already see the white flag denoting the site of the praetorium, Varus’s headquarters, flapping in the breeze. The purple flags marking the location of the officer’s tents also flew high above all else. The flags not only marked out the lie of the camp, but they were a rallying point for the men, something for them to look upon with pride as the hard work began.

  Once through the marked-out gate, Drusus and his men had their tents erected in little more time than it took to beat Marcus at knucklebones. Drusus then led his men down to the wall where they would dig a portion of the ditch that would surround the camp and provide dirt for the walls. His men worked hard and unflaggingly. Around them, other centuries were already placing towers and catapults as was their assigned task.

  He remembered the first time he’d been involved in constructing a marching camp almost twenty years ago. He’d marvelled at the speed with which it had been built, and then he’d despaired that all that work was for one night and would be destroyed the next morning. Such hard labour to construct the camp and they’d have to do it all over again the very next day.
And so it would go on for months. Occasionally, they’d stay for a time near certain villages while Varus heard local complaints and problems between tribesmen or differing tribes. As governor of Germania it was his duty to make a ruling on each case. Once all matters had been settled, the legions would march on to their next location, leaving nothing of their existence behind.

  Drusus thrived on it now: the ingrained tasks, the pleasant burn of his well-used muscles, pride in constructing something so impenetrable so well and rapidly. He couldn’t say that he loved being in the army, but Drusus knew it offered him some moments of joy and a great deal of pride.

  As he watched his men finish digging the ditch, his eyes fell on Caius and Calpurnius. They worked together side by side as they often did, talking quietly between themselves. Drusus wondered how they found the labours of the day. Did they marvel at the camp? Were they as proud of the entire legions achievements as Drusus was? Were they awed that tomorrow all of this would be gone as though it had never been?

  The trumpet call sounded the completion of the camp’s construction. By now every tent should be up, every wall built, every tower erected, and every man and beast safe through the gates and within the walls they’d constructed. The men were free to retire to their evening meal now and then rest.

  Drusus led his men back to their tents, dismissing them to cook their own meals. He warned them he’d have them reassemble shortly for battle practice before they could settle down to bed for the night.

  Drusus soaked his bread in olive oil and ate hastily. In a few days, he’d think about getting meat for the men. He wanted them all well fed, strong, and ready for battle, but for now bread, fruits, and wine would suffice. There was an abundance of apples and pears that grew so well in this region. If Varus kept to his usual route through the lands of the Rhine, they would stay close to the waters, so it would be no hardship for his men to dine frequently on fish.

  “We are ready, Centurion,” Marcus remarked as he approached Drusus. Once they set out on campaigns Marcus usually drifted toward more formal exchanges with him. It was evidence to Drusus of the gravitas Marcus gave to his position of optio.