Legion of the Undead

by Michael Whitehead

  The men started to gather themselves and Centurion Vespas turned to leave, as he did he said’ “Vitus Protus, Antonius Cassius I need to see you in my tent in 20 minutes.”

  Vitus turned to Antonius and raised his eyebrows in question. Antonius just shrugged.

  Vitus and ‘Tonius walked side by side towards the centurions tent. The night was cold and damp, much like every night since they had arrived in Germania. The camp was in a state of heightened action with many of the centuries already breaking camp following orders of their own. The two auxiliaries watched legionaries dismantling tents and moving equipment.

  Not for the first time, Vitus was pleased not to have the armour and kit that the legionaries had to lug about. Of course, when it came to battle he was always a little envious of the extra protection they were afforded. Not that he would have swapped them a place in the front line for his place of relative safety in the archery lines.

  The two archers reached Centurion Vespas’ tent and knocked on the tent post. From inside, they heard Vespas say, “Come in men.”

  They entered the tent, and found Vespas pouring himself wine into a gilt goblet. They stood to attention, and waited for him to finish.

  “Stand easy men.” He said. “I've got some good news, and bad news for you both.” He paused to take a drink. “Governor Clemens has requested that the auxiliaries provide him with a number of scouts for the battle tomorrow. I'm taking you out of the archery lines. You’ll need a third man, I'll leave that to you.”

  Vespas slowly walked around his desk and sat on the front edge. “It's not as good as it sounds though. We've lost a number of patrols over the last few days. More than a few scout parties have disappeared. I've picked you two because I trust you to make the right decisions. Don't do anything daft and you should be fine.”

  Vitus and Antonius looked at each other before turning to Vespas. Vitus spoke, “permission to speak sir.” Vespas nodded.

  “How many patrols are missing?”

  Vespas smiled. “Straight to the point as ever, legionary Protus. The answer is I don't know. The rumour is most of them didn't come back yesterday, and last night. The governor wants more men out immediately. You're to go out in groups of three, one of you is to act as runner if the group is attacked.”

  “How long are we staying out for sir? Do we report back to you for the battle, or stay out?”

  “The Governor wants eyes out during the fighting. The missing scouts have him spooked, although you didn't hear that from me.

  “Come in closer when the fighting starts but keep your eyes outward. The first sign of any flanking movement and the governor wants to know about it. I know these aren't your usual orders, but I’m sure you're up to it. Take these tokens for the gate guards, and good luck men.”

  The two auxiliaries came to attention and saluted, turned and left the tent.

  Outside, Vitus turned to Antonius, “Not what I expected to be doing tonight, but I suppose it beats breaking down tents. Who are we taking with us?”

  “I don’t think we will have much choice in the matter, to be honest.” He smiled at Vitus as they shared a joke.

  Back at the unit tent, they both set about packing the kit they would need for the scouting mission. It wasn’t long before Vitus was joined by a young fellow archer who sat down on the end of Vitus’ bed.

  “So what did the old man want?” The man was young enough to still be considered a boy. It was a matter of debate between Vitus and Antonius whether Regulus had lied about his age when he signed on.

  “Just a special mission, that he specifically told us not to tell you about.” Vitus smiled with his back to the lad.

  “Fuck off, don’t be a prick. What did he want?” Regulus fired back as quick as a whip.

  “Scouting. They’re short apparently, and they've asked me and the big man to fill in. We need to pick a third to go with us. Any idea of anyone who’d fancy it?” Vitus said with a grin.

  “Count me in. When are we leaving?” Regulus was almost bouncing on the bed with excitement. Vitus wondered how he had managed to live this long, willing as he was to put himself in danger.

  “No, he said we needed to take a man, do you know any?”

  “I thought I told you to stop being a prick. When are we leaving?”

  Vitus laughed. “What have I told you about being so eager? We leave as soon as we are packed. Don’t bring anything that will rattle or reflect a light. Anything too shiny, leave it behind or blacken it up. You’ve got five minutes.” Regulus jumped up from the bed and began packing immediately. Vitus turned to Antonius and the two men began to laugh.

  Regulus was ready less than five minutes later. Vitus found the eager look on his face both amusing and scary. He hoped that the lad would live long enough to have his thirst for danger quelled a little.

  The three men reported to the north gate and handed over the token Centurion Vespas had given them. The optio on the gate eyed them suspiciously.

  “You men wouldn't be attempting to leave camp on the eve of battle would you. Biggest fight we've seen since we got to this gods forsaken place, and you three come up with a token to leave camp? Seems very convenient.”

  Antonius stood to attention, but still managed to look as if he was looming over the officer.

  “Sir, we are following orders issued by Governor Clemens. We could wait here while you check with the governor, sir, I’m sure he would be glad to know you were willing to delay his orders being carried out while you check, sir.”

  Vitus fought hard to suppress a smile and was sure he had only partially succeeded.

  The optio did his best to stand eye to eye with Antonius but it was a losing battle. Instead he chose to poke the big archer in the stomach while he spoke.

  “You need to remember, son, that there will be plenty of time after this battle for me to find you. I’m sure a quiet word in the right ear could see you three digging shit pits for the rest of your army life.”

  “I’m sure that if you did, sir, I would dig the best damn shit pits in the legions, all the while thinking of you, sir.” The fact that the big man managed to salute and bring his heels together while saying this last line almost made Vitus rupture himself trying not to laugh.

  The optio seemed to realise that this was not the time or place to pick a fight with the three of them, but Vitus could see him making a mental record of all of their faces. He thought this might be one officer it was prudent to avoid for a while.

  The optio turned to a bored looking legionary and ordered him to open the gate. Antonius stepped through first with Vitus and Regulus at his heels, trying to keep smiles off their faces.

  They left the camp behind and were well out of earshot before Regulus spoke.

  “Was that wise? Pissing off the optio like that?”

  Antonius turned to Vitus, “Shall I tell him the rule or do you want to do it?”

  “What rule?” Asked Regulus, eagerly

  Vitus took the chance to impart some wisdom to his younger colleague.

  “You see lad it’s like this. Most of the time you tell optios exactly what they want to hear. However sometimes, when the time is right, you have to tell them exactly what they need to hear. You understand?”

  Regulus made a show of really thinking about it. “You mean most of the time if he calls you a prick you agree with him. But sometimes, you need to call him a prick instead.”

  “Close enough lad. You’re learning.” Vitus said, and cuffed Regulus around the back of the head.

  For all three of them their first taste of scout duty was a lesson in boredom. They moved to the south, further away from the enemy than they had been in camp. After a while they decided they had gone far enough, and had an clear view of the grass plains. The moon was close to full, and for one of the few times since they arrived in Germania, the sky was clear. They settled down in a patch of longer grass and soon decided to take turns at getting a little sleep.

  It was as dawn was showing on th
e horizon as a purple band that Vitus found himself alone with Regulus. Antonius was snoring so loud that they thought any Germani army would be sure to hear him. The horizon, and the land in front of it, was as clear as it had been all night.

  Vitus turned to Regulus and asked him, “So, it’s just you and me now, how old are you really?”

  Regulus looked a little sheepish when he replied, “fourteen.”

  “Fuck me. How does a fourteen year old boy end up in the legions?” Said Vitus.

  “I got caught thieving to feed my mum and sister. Actually I got caught over and over but it was always to feed my mum and sister. There was a magistrate. He threatened to sell both of them into slavery if I didn’t join up. He even lied for me and told them I was eighteen. I’m pretty certain he had a thing for my mum, and wanted me out of the way. Either way, here I am.” He looked up and smiled. “Best thing that ever happened to me if I’m honest. Before this I was constantly running from some town guard or other. If not them it was the gamekeepers on the big estate outside the town. The army is more relaxing, and I can send most of my pay home. We’re all better off, I think.”

  Vitus shook his head. “Fourteen! You’re still a baby.”

  Regulus just shrugged and turned back to the landscape spread out before them. The sky had started to turn from dawn toward day, and the birds were doing their best to make sure nobody slept too late. After a while Regulus turned back to Vitus.

  “So, what about you? What brought you to the legions?”

  Vitus smiled. “Not such an exciting story as yours, lad. I grew up on my father's farm. I tried to help as much as I could but I never really had the heart for it. He grew old and died, and my mother followed him not long after. I did my best to keep the farm running, more out of duty than anything. When it finally failed I came here.”

  He finished his story by gesturing at the Germanic countryside. It was as he did, that both Regulus and himself noticed the drunk legionary on the plain below them.

  Regulus nudged him and pointed. “Fuck me he’s had a skin-full.” He laughed as he said it.

  Vitus smiled, but something about the way the man was moving didn’t seem right. Drunk men staggered but this one was jerking and convulsing as he walked. He held his arm at a funny angle and seemed to be trailing one leg behind him in a limp.

  “I’m not sure he’s drunk. This far out from camp I think we might have found one of our missing scouts,” he said.

  “Should one of us go down there? If there are any enemy in the area we’ll give away our position.” Regulus asked

  “Yes, I think I should. Wake Antonius, and I’ll go help whoever that is.” He pointed at the legionary who was still in obvious distress.

  As he headed down the slope towards the legionary, he heard Regulus behind him waking Antonius. The legionary was still more than a hundred yards away when Vitus saw the blood he was covered in. The man had his back to him but dried blood covered the man's back plate and neck, even the back of his legs had a coating. Vitus began to jog towards him, watching as he jerked and twitched left and right, as if looking for something, or someone.

  Vitus called out to him as he got close enough not to have to shout. “Hey, are you hurt? Do you need help?”

  The legionary whipped his head around and looked directly at Vitus. It was then that he saw the man's face. Most of it was missing. There was skin over his forehead and around one eye but the nose, mouth, and both cheeks had been torn away. The teeth showed through the strings of flesh that hung from his skull.

  He looked like he was grinning, but from a mouth that was too big for his head. The eyes were black, with red, bloodshot veins running across them. They swivelled and twitched as he looked at Vitus. Worst of all, the skin below his chin was dangling across his throat, with his tongue sticking out through his bottom jaw, flapping and twisting like a snake trying to set itself free.

  Vitus saw all of this in an instant, and he reacted so quickly that he twisted in mid-run. His feet lost their footing in his bid to get away from this creature, whatever it was. He scrambled to his hands and feet as the mutilated legionary threw itself at him.

  It’s exposed teeth snarled and snapped at him, as he fought to kick the thing away. He lashed out with a foot, kicking into the thing’s shoulder, and it spun off him.

  Without a second’s hesitation it launched itself at him again. Vitus caught it by the neck and held it above him, fighting for the strength to throw it off once more. The snarling, thrashing thing looked into his eyes for an instant and Vitus saw the depths of Hades deep within them. No life could live behind those eyes. Vitus knew in that moment that this creature was already dead. As impossible as that may be, he knew it.

  The dead thing flailed at him with its one good arm while the other hung limply against Vitus’ chest. He turned and rolled the creature off him. Scrambling to his feet as it came back at him once more. He backed away to make the time he needed to draw his gladius.

  As the horror attacked again he impaled it through the chest with his sword. The monster didn’t even react, it gnashed its teeth in his face trying to get closer but was stuck on the blade.

  At that moment, Antonius thundered past Vitus knocking the dead thing sprawling in the dirt. Vitus wasted no time, he stepped in and cleaved his sword into the thing’s skull. It stopped instantly.

  Vitus turned to see Antonius getting to his feet. He saw the big man was alright, then sank to his knees. The shaking in his legs would allow him to do nothing else.

  Regulus spoke from behind him, “What was that?”

  Vitus just shook his head. He didn’t know if he trusted his voice to work, and didn’t want it to betray his shock.

  The three men stared at the broken thing on the ground in front of them. It looked rotten and decayed. The wounds to its face didn't explain the grotesqueness of it. This thing wasn’t a dead man, those lay in graves and stayed dead. This was different, it may once have been a man, but in the end it had become a monster. Everything about it was horrific. Even the uniform it wore seemed twisted and mutated.

  As they looked, the first sounds of the battle began behind them.

  CHAPTER TWO

  “We need to get back to the legion.”

  It was Vitus who voiced what they were all thinking. They started at a march, that turned into a jog, and then a run. After twenty minutes they could see artillery and dark smudges of arrow fire coming from over the crest of a rise. A short while later, they stood above the battle looking across it from the right wing of the Roman Legions.

  The governor was throwing all the artillery he had at the Germani defences. Fire pots exploded against the enemy lines splashing liquid death on the defenders. Clouds of arrows darkened the sky between the two armies.

  Vitus could see the Germani defenders shouting their defiance from behind defensive structures that the legions would break apart in moments. These savages had none of the engineering that made the Roman Legions so formidable. Armies had broken against the structures the legions could conjure out of nothing. These walls of log and dirt were merely inconveniences to the Legions of Rome.

  Vitus looked for the general's tent at the rear of the legions. His eyes instead rested on his own century, placed halfway along the right flank, to the rear of the waiting legionaries of the VIIIth. Vitus would have to walk straight past them to report to Governor Clemens. He pointed them out to Regulus and Antonius and all three men ran along the rear of the Roman lines.

  Missiles rained down as they ran. Arrows peppered the floor like the spines of an enormous felled pine tree. The Roman artillery went unmatched which was a blessing from the gods.

  Vitus saw Centurion Vespas shouting orders to his men, barely heard above the noise of battle. Vitus came to a stop as he reached him, stood to attention and saluted. His breathing was heavy as he waited for Vespas to acknowledge him.

  “You do know scouts generally stay out until the battle is over, don’t you?” He looked questioningly
at them. “I presume you have something to report. You need to take it straight to the general.”

  Vitus took a hold of his breathing and said, “Sir, I’m not sure how to report what we’ve just seen to the general.”

  Vespas looked closely at Vitus’ face and must have seen something that convinced him the news was serious. He turned to his optio, a bear of a man with a long scar from his eye to his jaw line.

  “The century is yours until I get back.” The optio nodded and turned back to the archers lined up before him.

  The sound of artillery stopped, and all four men turned to watch what was about to happen. The front centuries marched towards the Germani defensive line, shields held high against the barrage of arrows that flew against them. They did not run but kept a steady pace and a clean, unbroken line.

  Men fell despite the shields, they were replaced immediately by men from the second ranks. As they closed to around a hundred feet, there was a huge cry from the Germani lines, and hundreds of warriors poured over the remains of the defences. Vitus had to admire the chief’s courage. His defences had crumbled but he still took the fight to the legions.

  The two front lines were less than thirty feet apart when the front Roman ranks let fly hundreds of Pilum. The long, iron tipped, spears struck with deadly force and ranks of the Germani warriors were thrown back. They died in droves and spoiled the run of the men behind them.

  The tips of the spears bent on impact making them useless to pick up and return. The lines met with a huge crash of metal, drowning out the cries of men. The killing began in earnest as more legions marched to the rear of the Roman lines.

  The auxiliaries continued to rain arrows over the battle lines towards the archers that remained behind the infantry ranks. This would soon cease as the chances of hitting friend instead of foe became more likely.