on, but you have to stay focussed and hope that you chose the right people around you. If you're not sure about someone, let it be. Don't push yourself too far, because, of all things, you have to be true to yourself.
-And that's it? There is no further way to be sure of it?
-You never can be sure about anything. People change, because life brings new experiences every day. You can just assume with high probability what the next day can bring you. Due to collected experiences and memories, you assume with high probability that someone is your friend or not. Sometimes, you have to dare a leap, sometimes you have to draw back. Still, there is nothing for sure in life. We are all people struggling with our surrounding, with situations and with ourselves.
His father's tone was reasoning and somewhat sad. He didn't make the impression like talking with his son, rather like talking to a good friend. Marcus Lucius listened cautiously to every word and inhaled the advices like a sponge. He appreciated them all.
He had his training hours and had to hold the regular short gladius of 24 inches long. Mostly, he had to fight against the best young legionnaires and he continued losing. However, his loses were less visible and he became more successful in defence as well as in attack. Even when he lost a fight, many saw him as a winner. He was a ten years old boy and had serious rivals, who didn't simplify the battles. Marcus Lucius was satisfied to see that it became easier every day to move gladius the way he wanted. His muscles were growing. His statue started to look manly. His childish eyes were focussed and his movements won fluency and self-consciousness. In the beginning, in autumn, Marcus Lucius was a motivated fighter. In late spring, he developed into a motivated and trained fighter. He had trained a lot during that time. He woke up earlier than everyone, no matter what the weather was like, and warmed up in the darkness of the morning. In the evening, he sat down somewhere near to a fire place and analysed the working day. He was the last person standing in the line for breakfast, lunch and dinner. He was the first person on the training field and the last person to leave it. He learnt to decode hints from Appius's face impressions. When Appius moved his head to the right, mostly he wasn't satisfied. If he moved his head to the left, he was totally dissatisfied. When he nodded, even minimally, it was a good sign. When he screamed, someone had screwed up. When he crossed his arms over his chest, he was torn and worried. It was so easy to get feedback almost right away.
Towards the end of Marcus Lucius's stay in Britannia, Maximus took him away from camp almost every evening and they trained together outside, in the lovely surrounding between leafy trees, verdant meadows and wet drops of rain. Mostly, they didn't talk a lot. Maximus moved his sword or just a simple, long stick and tried to distract his son. At the very beginning, the spontaneous attempts to get Marcus Lucius nervous and irritated were quite successful. Maximus always gave him short advice how to improve the technique. But to learn how to stay aware of the surrounding with several enemies in front of him, was even more important to Marcus Lucius.
-It's easy to concentrate on another person in front of you, but in a fight, you have so many soldiers around you, when you have some riders, some soldiers from your legion, a group of enemies around you, you have to understand the danger around you without losing your mind. In the chaos of a battle, it's very difficult to stay focussed, but it's possible.
Maximus played some games with Marcus Lucius to prepare him for the real combats. During these trainings Marcus Lucius noticed how genius his father was and how poor his own technique was, even after weeks of training. Compared to the level of legionnaires, Marcus Lucius knew his father was like a god. He could conquer every person with just a minimal movement. It was fascinating how fast and accurate he was. His precise moves were fluent, quick and perfect. He didn't attack; he simply defended himself and used the power of Marcus Lucius against the boy. Maximus explained in detail how to apply the tricks and how to improve. He usually didn't give any compliments, he rather used to say “You have to be better” and “Focus, Marcus Lucius, focus”. When they didn't train the muscles, they sat down on bigger stones and played strategic games. Then Maximus drew lines on the ground which looked like a simplified political map and set some smaller stones on the different sides of the borders. The stones symbolised legions that were ready to fight. Sometimes, they played as a team against an imaginary enemy, and sometimes, they played against each other. Marcus Lucius sat concentrated and was so focussed that he didn't even feel the coldness outside. Maximus smiled when he saw his son freezing and even not noticing it. He was visibly proud to see the intelligence and endurance.
When the day came, when Marcus Lucius had to go back to Rome, Appius stepped by and slapped him on the back. Then, he bowed shortly in front of him and went away. There were no words needed to know that there was a kind of respect a teacher can have towards his pupils. On the contrary, Maximus gave some orders. Marcus Lucius was supposed to send greetings to the family, support his mother and keep on training. Marcus Lucius was moved and wasn't able to talk. He simply nodded again and again. He wasn't sure whether he understood every word he heard, because he had to fight against the tears. He was sad and unsatisfied. He wanted to stay longer, but it was not possible. His stay here was an exception. Usually, boys didn't see the inside of an army camp before they haven’t finish the 15th year of life.
Marcus Lucius reminded the moments of past, while he was lying in bed with high fever. His darkest thoughts contrasted extremely with the happy, shiny, late afternoon. The surrounding didn't match the mood at all Marcus Lucius was in. He was in pain, but he needed it to know that he was alive. Additionally, it was a kind of self-punishment. The gloomy part of his soul wanted to have its revenge immediately. Because he thought he was responsible for all what had happened, because he hasn’t considered a possible betrayal of Quintus, it was Marcus Lucius, who had to suffer. A piece of the penalty should be shared with Quintus. This was the main thought which came to his mind every now and then when he was conscious.
One day, he was longer awake and perceived more of his surrounding than before. He saw a girl, maybe 18, maybe 20 years old, who immediately went away when she noticed his state of mind. When she was sure he fell unconscious again, she washed his wounds very attentively, concentrated and tenderly. She used to quote Homer's works as far as Marcus Lucius could notice. She claimed the Song of Ilion in Greek telling the story of more than just few weeks in the final year of the Trojan war.
"Take courage. State what your powers tell you.
By Apollo, whom Zeus loves, to whom you, Calchas,
pray in prophesy to the Danaans, I swear this—
while I live to look upon the light of day,
no Achaean will raise violent hands against you,
no, not even if you name Agamemnon,
who claims he's by far the best Achaean."
Her lips were moving slowly, barely noticeable. They were full and nicely pink. Her cheeks were faint and noble, but they showed she spent a lot of time outside. Her eyes weren't watchful, rather concentrated on the pieces of Marcus Lucius's body that she had to clean again. Her voice was pleasant and enjoyable. It worked like medicine. Her fond touch was desirable.
At first, Marcus Lucius hoped that she was his wife. They looked similarly. Decima had long, dark red, curly hair and sun-bathed skin, too. She wasn’t shy towards sun like the Roman noble ladies, who used to avoid any fresh air and sun rays. Decima liked to stay in the garden and meeting her best friend on one of the markets in Rome. She had a nice, slim, and curvy body and a wonderful, catching smile. The unknown girl was a little bit smaller, more daintily. Her fingers were longer and her look was sadder, but she showed a special kind of patience and power. Her moves were more insecure compared to Decima’s. His wife used to stroke him stronger, more confident. The unknown girl apparently didn’t have much experience with men.
-Who are you? - He asked finally.
She noticed his watchful eyes and her cheeks turned red immediately. She jumped awa
y like a wild, timid animal. Her reserved attitude was shown in her body position, reaction and her eyes. At speed, she was many steps away from him and stared at him with an insecure look. Her breath was faster and her hands trembled. She was visibly nervous.
-Julia. I am the daughter of Julius Fabius. I was Maxentius's wife. - She answered quickly, but proudly. Her hands still trembled.
It was hard for her to stay secure and without any movement in the wagon, which was in motion. It wiggled and wobbled more or less powerfully.
-Don't be scared... - He started, but she refused immediately like a cheeky child:
-I'm not scared.
Even when she said so, she didn't make the impression of feeling comfortable and well. She looked cute. Marcus Lucius wasn't sure how he was supposed to handle the situation. Decima didn't oppose or comment his statements. He smiled sadly, while he remembered his dead wife. Then, he thought that Julia wasn't a slave, who should take care of him. She was a Roman citizen. He remembered briefly having seen Julia sitting on the floor leaning on the wall of the wagon,
Vengeance & Remission (Introduction) Page 3