Legion of the Undead

by Michael Whitehead

  This was, after all, now her estate, if her father was not to return. He could do the same job for her as he would have done for her father. The place was not the safest place in the empire, granted, but then they had no idea if this crisis might be over in days, weeks or longer. He would be happier if she would let him keep the place ready to start back up, if it could.

  Lucia wasn’t completely convinced, Vitus could see, but he agreed with the overseer’s views. The fields weren’t safe to work but fortifying the walls and gates would at least mean the villa could be made safe enough.

  After all of these arrangements were made, the soldiers set out for camp, escorting two women and one baby. On any other rescue mission Vitus thought this would be considered scant return for the danger and effort involved, but after the preceding week anything felt like a victory.

  The first day's travel went well, with the women riding two of the horses. Even the baby was in surprisingly good spirits, especially as her mother was not there to comfort her.

  The men had taken to calling her Flora, in honour of the new season. The matron was a wonder with her and had brought enough cows’ milk to feed the child until they could return to standing camp. After that, Vitus wasn’t sure what would happen to the child. A baby wasn’t exactly well catered for, in a legion camp. He supposed there was always the chance of finding a wet nurse among the camp whores.

  Lucia travelled in silence for the first hours. After a while, she began to open up slowly, and with Bactus leading, Vitus was free to speak to the girl. She told him of her letter and plans to go to Rome.

  This was, she said, not the way she had seen herself leaving home. Vitus pointed out that not every young woman had a military escort as she set out into the world. She had smiled and laughed dutifully, but Vitus was very aware of how much she had lost over the last few days. She was strong and he liked her a lot.

  Camp that night was a fire beneath the stars. The men fashioned a makeshift tent for the women and infant, with much pomp and ceremony. They seemed to have made the child their mascot and Regulus, in particular, was caught cooing over her more than once.

  “You’d make a great nanny, Regulus,” laughed Antonius, as the sun went below the horizon.

  “You know, I think I might fancy that,” he replied. “Beats waking up and looking at your ugly face every morning.”

  Vitus was pleased with the change in the men and thought it was almost entirely due to the chance they had been given to give the Risen a kicking, and the chance to look after the women and child. The lot of them were a bunch of big, soft guard dogs at heart, he thought. Men fought harder because of the people they loved, than the people they hated.

  The dogs had attacked as dusk turned to dark. A pack of them, with a huge leader who stepped out of the blackness like a beast from the depths.

  The flesh on one side of his muzzle was torn away, exposing teeth as big as daggers. He snarled and drooled thick black fluid from between his fangs. The dark shapes of his pack followed behind him and the air was suddenly full of tension and terror.

  The guard on duty shouted, and the men reacted like the professionals they were, grabbing swords and shields that lay within arms reach. They formed up so quickly that the dogs were still stalking into the camp.

  They formed a wall, with the fire to their backs, at Bactus’ order. Vitus formed his men behind the shield wall, bows ready. He called to the women to stay in their tent but to be ready to move.

  The dogs began to circle the fifty legionaries. Bactus, realising they were attempting to surround them, ordered his men into a square. Vitus and his men moved inside and behind the shields once more.

  The dogs continued to circle, looking for weak spots in the formation. Showing a cunning and patience of which their human counterparts were devoid. Vitus spoke to Bactus over the older man’s shoulder.

  “Order your men to one knee behind the shields. Give us room to shoot over their heads.”

  Bactus gave the order, and Vitus’ men began pouring arrows into the monstrous hounds. A number fell immediately with well aimed arrows in their skulls. Others took more than one shaft in their necks and bodies and came on without hesitation.

  The leader gave a short bark, mutated by his torn face and the dogs attacked. They leapt at the shields, trying to knock the men over or gain purchase enough to clamber over the wall. The legionaries hacked and slashed at their heads and faces and more dogs fell.

  A legionary fell backwards into the square, and Antonius grabbed his shield and stepped into his place before thrusting his blade into the face of the dog that had done the damage.

  The bows were useless now, so Vitus ordered his fifty men to use swords over the shoulders of the legionaries. It gave the men in front the chance to brace the shields with two hands, while the auxiliaries fought with the blades.

  Despite this tactic, more than one man fell to wounds caused by the massive jaws of the dead war dogs. Vitus heard the man to his left scream as his arm was caught by one of the monsters and snapped like a twig in its jaws. The man behind him brought the edge of his blade down, almost splitting the dog's skull in two but he was too late.

  There was a loud, sharp bark and the dogs withdrew as quickly as they had attacked. They regrouped and stood panting and growling.

  This was insane, surely. The human population was quickly turning into mindless killing and eating machines, yet the dogs seemed to have gained the instincts of highly trained soldiers.

  Behind them there was a scream and Lucia's matron came running out of her tent towards the men. She was closely followed by Lucia, carrying an oil lamp and shouting for her to stop. The older woman had the baby in her arms, and Vitus cursed the stupid bitch for being born.

  “Let them through,” he shouted but the line on that side of the square was already making room for them to pass inside.

  “I told you to stay in the tent!” He shouted at the matron.

  “I...I...but,” was all she could manage in response.

  He snarled at her and snapped, “Get down on the ground and gods help you if you get in anyone's way.”

  Lucia looked like she was going to try to defend the older woman but thought better of it. Good for her, at least one of them had more sense than the baby. Vitus’ eyes fell on the lamp she was holding.

  “How much oil is in that lamp?” He asked her.

  “It’s about three quarters full, why? Do you need it?” She answered without hesitation.

  He took it from her and felt the weight. It was a good size and he thought he could launch it far enough. Timing would be everything though.

  The lead dog began to circle the men again, and the legionaries braced themselves for another charge. Bactus shouted encouragement at them from his place in the line. Antonius and Regulus were in place, swords in hand, the former standing almost a full head taller than the man in front of him.

  As before, the dogs circled, then without hesitation they charged at an order from their leader.

  Vitus straight-arm threw the lamp, over the heads of the legionaries in front of him. He felt heat pass his face, even from an arms length away. The lamp hit the ground a few feet in front of the leader. Clay shattered and fire exploded up, into the faces of the dead dogs. They were turned into a howling inferno as they whipped around and threw themselves about, in a frenzy of agony. They bit at each other in anger and frustration.

  The men stood ready for a reaction from the dogs but after a few seconds the leader howled and ran off, leaving a fiery tail like a comet. The rest of his pack fled, leaving the bodies of their mates behind them.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Upon reaching the legion camp, the legionaries and auxiliaries with Vitus had to stand and stare for a few seconds. The legionaries stood on a hill overlooking a low flat plain with a blameless blue sky.

  The normal fort that the legions called home was still there. Massive and intrusive, it stood out against the countryside that surrounded it. High walls
, marked at intervals by higher guard towers. Nothing had changed about this camp, other than it seemed to have given birth to a smaller sibling.

  In many ways the smaller camp was a replica of its larger relative. The walls had a hasty look about their construction, in some places bark still marked some of the wooden planks. The walls were also lower and they enclosed a noticeably smaller space. It had towers at the corners but the smaller size meant it had none along the walls.

  As he was looking at the new construction Vitus heard Bactus approach behind him.

  “What do you make of that?”

  “I don’t know, you don’t think they’ve had to abandon the main camp do you?” The idea brought a sick dread to both men. The main camp was a permanent base in the region. It was very well stocked with food and equipment. A number of cohorts stayed behind at all times to protect it. It was a focal point of all the legion activity in the region.

  “Why would they build a new one right next to it?” Bactus sounded genuinely confused, and Vitus admitted to himself that he was no wiser than the senior man.

  “The legion colours are flying in the main camp, look.” Vitus pointed to a banner hanging above the gate. “Even in a wild rush, they wouldn’t leave that behind, surely.”

  “I’ve never heard of such a thing, that's for sure. There's only one way to find out, I guess.”

  Bactus ordered the men to move on and they started towards the huge structure in the distance.

  As they got closer to the camp, Roman guards could plainly be seen walking the walls. While this didn’t ease the confusion the sight of the second camp had caused, it certainly belayed the fear that disaster had befallen the legion in their absence.

  As they approached the gate, orders were called down to the guards and they passed into the camp. The usual smells and sounds greeted them as they entered. Even from the gateway, the camp felt empty compared to a normal day. Too many men had not made it back and it gave the camp a hollow feeling.

  Bactus and Vitus were approached by a centurion who called them into the office below the gateway. He motioned for them to sit.

  His office was barely big enough for three grown men and the close quarters were uncomfortable after days in the field.

  “How did it go out there?” He asked in an informal manner, as they sat down.

  “The same shit as always,” Bactus smiled. He was at ease with the centurion and obviously knew him.

  “We are checking everyone in and out, as you’d expect. We are registering all newcomers at the gate, as well. Considering our neighbours, and everything else, the governor is concerned that we may become outnumbered in our own camp.”

  The centurion was rifling through the drawers in his desk as he spoke. He eventually found what he was looking for and he placed a new-looking stylus on his desk.

  “What’s the story there?” Vitus asked.

  “Local refugees, this thing with the Risen has spread wide. We’ve got villages and tribes from all over Germania heading here. One of the chiefs decided we were their best bet at riding this thing out and the rest followed.

  “By the accounts of our scouts, we've got half of the local population heading here over the next few days. One extra camp may not be enough.” He held up his hands, palms to the sky and sat back in his chair.

  “I bet life is pretty interesting in there right now. All those different tribes, sharing space. Had any trouble?” Bactus asked.

  “The governor has told them that it's up to them to get along. Most of them are women and children, really. They've, pretty much, all headed here after a fight with the Risen and they’ve lost a lot of men.

  “I think Governor Clemens was happier to have them all here, where he can keep an eye on them, while we are under-strength. We threw that thing up yesterday, and it's already like some kind of slum in there. They all turned up with nothing but the clothes they had on. Clemens has given them a few tents and things but the way I heard it, he’s already sent to Rome for reinforcements and he’s not leaving us short just to help a bunch of Germani tribesmen.”

  “Sounds like a right mess,” said Bactus. “I’ll get you a list of the men we've got with us and the few we lost as well, if that's acceptable. Right now we have some tired and hungry soldiers and I don’t want to keep them standing outside.”

  The centurion nodded, “No problem, I’m pretty sure I can trust you not to go sneaking any new recruits past me. I will need to register the women though. Can one of you stay with them while I do it?”

  Vitus nodded, and as Bactus left to give the men orders, he fetched in Lucia and Rosa, along with baby Flora.

  The centurion was brief but thorough. He asked their names and backgrounds, where they had been found and what they were hoping to do, now that they were in camp.

  Lucia explained who her father was, and the situation with the estate. She requested that she be allowed to speak with the governor. The centurion explained that he was a busy man right now, but he would pass on a request for a meeting.

  After the formalities were finished, Vitus showed the two women to a tent, and made sure they would always have a man to get them anything they would need. He also wanted to make sure that no overly enthusiastic legionaries would try to make them too welcome in camp.

  These were all trained men, but they were not all good men. Anyone who spent too much time around a legionary camp learned that fact. For every man who signed up for the love of his country, there were ex-slaves, criminals and conscripts. Two women could find themselves in trouble if they had no-one keeping an eye on them.

  It was the following day when a messenger arrived at Vitus' tent with orders for him to bring Lucia to a meeting with the governor. He found her outside her tent, holding the baby as Rosa prepared food on a fire.

  “You know we have mess tents in camp, don’t you, ladies?” He asked with a smile.

  “You can’t feed a baby from a camp mess tent, centurion. Besides the food they serve you men would finish an old lady like me,” Rosa said with a sneer on her face.

  “I’m sure your cooking is so much better than the cooks here produce,” he said, and turned to Lucia. “The Governor has granted you a meeting, he wants us both in his tent, now.’

  She nodded and got to her feet, passing the baby to the legionary who stood guard outside the ladies tent. He held it at arm's length, like it was a flailing cat, until Rosa took it off him with a laugh.

  “Big, hard men and you’re all scared to death of a baby!”

  Vitus and Lucia walked in silence through the camp. There were always empty tents on any given day. Men would be on patrol, sometimes whole cohorts would have a mission that kept them away for days or weeks. The emptiness of the camp at the moment brought home to him just how many men they had lost over the previous week. Large parts of the camp were silent as the remaining men stayed in close groups for company.

  They approached the governor's tent and the guard outside waved them straight in.

  “The governor is expecting you, sir,” he said, standing to attention.

  Inside, Governor Clemens was seated and reading paperwork. A private secretary was pointing out various points on a letter he held. The two men looked up when they entered, and the governor motioned to the two seats in front of his desk. Lucia and Vitus sat as the governor finished his business. The secretary retired to a desk at the back of the tent.

  The governor reached across the table and shook Lucia's hand.

  “I’m very pleased to meet you. I’m Governor Gnaeus Pinarius Cornelius Clemens, welcome to my camp. I met your father a number of times and I always found him to be a decent and honest man. I’m very sorry he has gone.”

  Lucia sat forward in her chair. “Sir, I’m very pleased to meet you, too. My father hasn’t been found yet, so I am leaving myself a little hope that he is unhurt.”

  “We can only pray that it true. Lucia, isn't it?”

  “Yes, I’m sorry, I forget my manners. Thank you for seeing
me.” She blushed a little, but Vitus was once again impressed at the way such a young girl handled herself.

  “It is to my own benefit that I agreed to meet you, Lucia.” Said Governor Clemens. “It would seem we are in the position to do each other a service. I happen to know that your father's sister is married to Praetor Domitius, who is a very good friend of mine.

  “I have sent a number of dispatches to Rome since I got here a couple of days ago, but I need a friendly face to represent me in the senate.

  “It is my wish that you, along with an escort, carry a message to your uncle for me. This issue is too important to leave to written dispatches. This would, of course, mean that you make your way to Rome, which is I believe, your final destination.

  Lucia thought for a second. “You trust me to carry these messages for you?”

  “If I am to be perfectly blunt, I trust the man sitting next to you. He will escort you to Rome and help you find your uncle. From there, I believe he will need your help. Make introductions and vouch for him, and I’m sure that my letter will do the rest.”

  Lucia nodded, “I have no desire to spend any more time than I have to in a military camp, waiting to be attacked by the Risen again. I would be happy to deliver your messages, Governor. I’m happy just to be of some use in this mess.”

  “Do this for me and I will call your part in this more than useful. I would consider it vital.” He nodded once to her and turned to Vitus.

  “Centurion Protus, do you understand what I require from you?”

  “Yes, sir,” Vitus answered. “I’m to deliver this young lady and your dispatch to Rome. Find the praetor and ask him to help us in the senate. Pardon my asking sir, but if you’ve already sent word before us, why are we required?”

  The governor chuckled to himself.