Son of Mars
Page 4
Thus far, we hadn't interacted much, and I had no reason to hate him the way I do now. Here, he gave me my first reason for disdain.
“Marius, I need to speak with you.” He said, just as arrogant as a Tribune as he would later be as Consul.
“Yes, Tribune? What can I do for you?” I said.
“We need to talk to you about the girl.”
“The girl? Which girl?” I asked. I was already taking his meaning from the tone of his voice.
“The child. The one you begot through a Spanish trollop.” He said, hands clutched behind his back and his head high. At last I sat down my things and turned to address him.
“Yes? What of her?”
“You cannot possibly believe you are bringing her along with you.” He said. “It is highly irregular that you were permitted to keep that woman while she birthed your ill-born child. We cannot allow you to bring her back to Italy. It will reflect poorly with the people.”
I approached him closer still and looked him directly in the eyes.
“I do plan on bringing her with me, Tribune.” I said, and nothing more.
“Scipio has instructed me to address this issue with you. We cannot have a screaming babe traveling with us across the Alps to Rome.”
I met his gaze and said nothing.
“Let’s not be unreasonable.” He said. In a swift motion I grabbed the gladius atop my cot and placed it on the table beside us.
“Yes, let’s not be unreasonable.”
His eyes glanced over to the sword and he flushed with indignation. He tried to calm himself and exhaled.
“If you disobey me, Gaius Marius, I will have you flogged and crucified.”
“You may. You may very well have me crucified. But what will that do to the morale Scipio has worked so hard to build? To execute the soldier who so recently was awarded a military crown for meritorious conduct.”
Scipio turned to a few of the other Tribunes, who avoided eye contact.
“If anyone comes near my child, he shall die.”
Metellus spun on his heels and left, the first of many times I would provoke such a response.
Nothing more was said of the matter.
We departed within the week. It had been a year and three months since we had arrived, and I could not calculate how much I had changed in that time. I’m sure you’re experiencing similar feelings now, after your first campaign.
I held Maria the entire journey. Something about the gentle bobbing of the horse soothed her. Perhaps it is why she loves riding, even to this day.
When we arrived in Italy, we halted and set up camp not 30 miles away from Arpinum, where my family remained.
In camp that night, as we stood in line for our portion of wine and soup, Scipio pulled me aside.
“Marius,” he said, “Rufus told me you live in the hills outside Arpinum. Is that true?”
“It is, sir,” I said, not guessing his meaning.
“We’re not far now. I’ll grant you leave if you’d like to go directly to your home. I know that Gratidius was your brother-in-law, and you might be eager to inform your family of his death.”
I considered it for a moment. I looked over the Italian hills, below the sunset where my home resided in the distance. Then, I turned my gaze to the tent where my daughter now lie sleeping.
“I think not, sir. I’ll stay on, if you’ll allow me.”
He was confused for a moment, but eventually nodded.
“Very well,” he said.
So, I returned to Rome with Scipio. I took part in his Triumph, hearing a quiet voice somewhere in my heart saying that one day I would have a Triumph of my own. After the festivities, I decided to stay in the city. Arpinum no longer had anything left for me.
I was poor, perhaps poorer than I was when I left, as I spent most of my earnings to pay for my daughter. What little I had left, I had invested in the stone quarries opened by the tribes who took over the Numantine land. They’ve made me a fortune since, but at the time, I had little to my name. All I had was my daughter and the scars I earned in battle.
But a young man can always find work, and that’s what I did.
I moved to an Insula on the Caelian hill, just my daughter and I. The war was over, but my career had only begun. I was determined to make something of myself in Rome. I would prove my father wrong, along with all the men who doubted me. I would say now, as I am being elected to my third Consulship, I have done so.
I will write more about this chapter in my life later. For now, I must return to whipping these soldiers into shape, as Scipio did before me.
I hope that this letter has encouraged you, Centurion. My first taste of war was, I believe, not much different from your own. No matter how bad it was, young man, I believe you can make something good of it.
The losses you experienced at Arausio are unimaginable, but that doesn’t have to be the end of it. We will hunt those bastards down and give them worse than what they gave us.
I expect you to report to my camp in Gaul no later than August. Let’s put those scars to good use, Centurion.
Gaius Marius
650 Ab urbe condita
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