Vengeance & Remission (Introduction)

by Amalia Angellinni

soldiers gathered around them and watched how concentrated he was. He didn't act rapidly. He thought over in calmness and ignored the more or less indirect hints of the spectators. Quintus used the mood of the mass of legionnaires around them and fed the crowd with his ironic remarks. Normally, such intimidating tactic worked successfully, but Marcus Lucius ignored the words, the laugher and loudness around him. Even if he understood the sentences spoken aloud, he didn't value them as important, so he simply blanked them out. The more chaotically the surrounding was, the calmer Marcus Lucius got and the more nervous Quintus became. It took almost three weeks with pauses for trainings, patrolling and eating breaks, before the winner was determined. Surprisingly, Marcus Lucius won within a hair's breadth. The more Quintus saw his limited, hopeless range of further moves, the more desperate he looked. His heartbeat rushed crazily, heavily, unexpectedly. His eyes were small like two crevices between two pages of a book. His pupils moved hastily. Marcus Lucius wasn't able to describe Quintus's reaction in any scientific way. If he could, he would confirm that Quintus's onset of a stress response was associated with specific physiological actions in the sympathetic nervous system, including the directly and indirectly release of adrenaline and extended noradrenaline. These hormones facilitated immediate physical reactions by triggering increases in heart rate and breathing, as well as constricting blood vessels. What Marcus Lucius was able to describe was the strong feeling that Quintus wished strongly to escape or disappear intuitively, spontaneously.

  If Quintus's look could be compared to anything in the moment he lost the game, then it could only be compared to Medusa's power. Gazing directly upon him would turn onlookers to stone. His eyes were focussed on Marcus Lucius in a way that would force everybody to think about taking a strategic, self-protective position. Marcus Lucius didn't move, however followed cautiously every tiny movement of Quintus. Every blink of an eye, every breath coming from his lungs, every movement of his pupil was perceived by a silent, emotionless Marcus Lucius. The winner didn't look condescendingly, disdainfully. On the contrary, Marcus Lucius was kind of calm and noble in his silent victory. He didn't look surprised or happy. He simply stood up and thanked for the good, fair game in the same way, he used to show his thankfulness after every training in a sign of respect and appreciation for others.

  -You were simply lucky bastard. - Quintus said teeth-gnashingly like an angry child.

  Marcus Lucius didn't react. Instead, he wanted to leave the place, he noticed the masses of soldiers around. He had the impression that the whole camp was present at that time and that everyone was watching not only how the match ended, but also how the winner may react. Some talked or whispered conspirationally with each other. Marcus Lucius captured many different looks and one thought build up in his head: nothing would be the same as before the game. This impression was confirmed soon. Suddenly, he was taken to another group of legionnaires. Suddenly, some persons in the leading positions started inviting him to events after trainings, after patrolling. Marcus Lucius wasn't sure what to do. It wasn't clever to refuse such invitations, but it wasn't his intended way to climb up in the camp structure. His father said once that the higher you get, the more painful and surprising the fall could be. Marcus Lucius wasn't interested in falling down or making a career, even if his mother kept pushing him into this direction. Nothing could make Marcus Lucius change his attitude. He wished for a simple family and straight trainings. He wished for a normal, average life. The claim was not accepted.

  After he went to some strictly chosen events, he got a nomination to be a candidate as a tribune. He wasn't happy about it. Tribune was a title shared by elected officials in the Roman Republic. It scared him a bit. He didn't intend to support his candidature and he stepped back as far as he could. The claim was not accepted. He became tribune, the youngest tribune in the history, and it happened against his will. As a respectful and dutiful person, he took it calmly and quietly. He ignored his mother's explosion of happiness and pride. Tribunes had the specific power to intervene legally on behalf of plebeians. They special strength however was only in effect within the city of Rome and not within regional governments. It was the only positive point of the new position. Therefore, he wanted to go leave Rome and stay in Ostia.

  The city of Ostia wasn't the worst choice, but it was unwillingly too near to Rome and too dependent from Rome. It grew on the site of a Roman camp, which had been situated at the exact spot where the river Tiber flowed into the sea. The soldiers in the camp were placed there to protect the coastline from enemy attacks. With the increase in traffic and commerce, and merchants coming with boats full of products to be sold in Rome, Ostia became the primary point for the sorting of goods before they headed to the most important city of the empire. It became necessary to extend or even build a new port in Ostia, protected by more soldiers. Marcus Lucius didn't like the chaos and rush hours crowded with legionnaires, travellers, sales people and craftsmen. The city was extremely lively, full of multi-lingual traffic, multi-religious temples and daily business deals.

  As he got the proposal to go to Thracia, established in AD 46, when the former Roman client state of Thrace was annexed by order of Emperor Claudius, Marcus Lucius agreed sooner than publicly expected to go there. He was satisfied for the very first time in his adulthood. He liked the Greek city-states on the coast of the Black Sea under Roman control. At his time, Thracia was an imperial province, initially headed by a procurator, and by a legatus Augusti pro praetore. Marcus Lucius was supposed to take over the position, but he wasn't completely convinced that the full range of Roman supervision was needed. He supported the internal structure of the old Thracian kingdom retained and only partially controlled by Romans. He was happy there and wanted Decima to move to the region. She wasn't prepared to do it. She was a girl from the biggest, most influential, crucial city and she acted like a villager held to his piece of ground for decades. Every time, he visited her, which was rare, because the travel took a month and was not only exerting, but also expensive, he hoped to be able to convince Decima to go with him to Thracia. The location was impressive, warm, and friendly. The Black Sea with its active, dynamic brackish, nutrient-rich marine ecosystem, was often just called "the Sea" or the “Hospitable sea”, Euxeinos Pontos, replacing an earlier “Inhospitable Sea”, Pontos Axeinos. It was difficult to navigate there because the shores were inhabited by savage tribes. Still, the winters were full of strong winds and the summers included a warm, shallow mixed layer. The climate was similar to the well-known Roman air, but with more freshness and fluency fulfilling the lungs with every breath. Even these similarities weren't able to convince Decima to move even one millimetre from the already known piece of ground. She was glued to Rome and it was impossible to fight against the virtual chains holding her as a slave of the city. Marcus Lucius didn't feel good, even if his mission in Thracia was successful and brought him peace of heart and a calm, restful sleep.

  He remembered the very first time he saw Decima. It was four years ago, the last time he got free time in Ostia and wanted to visit his mother to share the news about moving miles away from the known surrounding and extended obligations. As he walked through the tireless, vivid city, he met Decima for the first time. She stood on a market with two female friends, looking for things from her shopping list. She didn't look like noble ladies and she wasn't a slave. Her free nature and individual joy were fascinating. Actually, she could have sent some of her slaves to fulfil the task, but she apparently preferred doing it herself. Later, he got to know she was the daughter of a Roman citizen, who had lost everything in risky games. He was so indebted that he had to sell his slaves, valuables and anything possible to dispose of. He had three daughters and both of Decima’s older sisters were already married to simple men: one worked as sculptures and the other was carpenter. Decima used to live with her oldest sister and helped as much as possible.

  Marcus Lucius's mother was strictly against the relationship which was just another reason for him t
o accomplish the mission. Marcus Lucius wanted to marry Decima from the very first moment he saw her. She wasn't the first girl he saw, he used to be a womaniser for a while, but he gave up senseless, empty evenings with women and started thinking about a longterm relationship. His mother introduced him already many appropriate girls, but none of them caused such an impression on Marcus Lucius. Decima's smile was the first smile that made him feel better. This kind of feeling was new to him, so he followed Decima up to her sister's house. She ignored him at first, then, she looked back and smiled. She didn't say a word. When he asked for her name, she smiled, but kept silent. Within two days, he asked her to marry him, even though he didn't know her at all. She laughed about it, because it sounded like a joke. He was serious and as she got it, she nodded. He kissed her and accompanied her to her father's door. With Marcus Lucius's money, the entire debt was paid off. Decima moved to the villa of Marcus Lucius's mother and Marcus