Legion of the Undead

by Michael Whitehead

  With that the old man began to speak quickly to the child, who took down notes on a wax tablet. With this done, the old man left and the child began giving instructions to the household slaves.

  Flavia gave the boy the run of the house and allowed him anything they had in order to prepare the room in which they would do the operation. The things they did not have, she sent slaves running all over Rome to find.

  “Is there anything I can do to help?” Vitus asked her in a quiet moment.

  “I don’t believe there is, but thank you, I’m grateful for the offer. Regulus is not awake, and the boy says it is best if he stays that way.”

  “It is Regulus and I that should be grateful. You barely know us yet you are doing all this to save his life.”

  “Lucia is my niece, Vitus, and I love my brother and his daughter very much. We may not have seen each other much over the years, but my brother has written to me very often. She has told me how much you and your friend have done for her and so nothing I do now is any more than you both deserve.

  “Besides, I have seen the way she looks at your friend and the way she speaks of him. I believe young love has reared its head, and I will never stand in the way of young love.”

  Vitus looked shocked and Flavia laughed at him.

  “Men! You’ve spent weeks with them both and you tell me you haven't seen how they are together?”

  “Well…I…” was all he could manage.

  She began to walk away but as she did she said, “My husband should be home soon, Vitus. In the meantime, please treat our home as your own, and we will look after your friend as best we can.”

  It was at that moment that the front door opened and in walked an important looking gentleman with greying hair, wearing a toga.

  Flavia greeted and kissed him before he asked, “We have visitors, Flavia. Anyone I should know?” He looked at Vitus, who realised the tunic he was wearing was probably the property of this man.

  “Praetor Domitius, meet Centurion Vitus Protus. He insists we call him Vitus though. He escorted our niece, Lucia, from Germania. There is much more to the story that is for your ears only, I believe. He has a friend who is very ill upstairs, and a doctor is due to try and save his life.”

  Domitius looked overwhelmed by the barrage of information and held his hands up to stop her.

  “Centurion Protus, I’m pleased to meet you.” He held his hand out and Vitus shook it.

  “Praetor, It’s an honour to meet you. Your wife has made us welcome in your home. I do hope that is acceptable.”

  “Vitus?” He asked. Vitus nodded. “Vitus, my wife has never asked, and will never ask, my permission about what happens in this house. Nor would I presume to try to tell her otherwise. If she has made you welcome, then welcome you are.”

  “Thank you, Praetor. I have a lot of urgent news for you from Germania, and in particular Governor Clemens. I have a letter from him and much more besides. I would very much like to speak to you at your earliest convenience.”

  “You catch me at a busy time, Centurion but Governor Clemens has ever been a good friend. If he has sent you directly to me, then I’m sure the news must be important. If you would be so kind to give me a little time to make myself presentable, I would be happy to speak to you.”

  Vitus nodded. He couldn’t help wondering if this seemingly steady and down to earth man would be ready for what he was about to hear. He guessed there was only one way to find out.

  CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

  My dear friend Domitius,

  I hope this letter finds you and your family in good health and fortune. It has been too long, my friend, since we last had the chance to meet. I introduce to you with all good favour, Centurion Vitus Protus, a trusted officer in my ranks. He carries with him the gravest news. The details will be almost unbelievable to hear but if you have ever loved me, I beg you to take every word as the truth. In my turn I will give you the briefest outline and would ask you to turn to Centurion Protus for the news in full.

  My garrison in Germania has suffered the heaviest of defeats. Not at the hands of the local tribes but from a never before encountered danger. The dead have risen. I realise how outrageous this sounds but it is the truth.

  We were mid-battle and fairing well against a new Germani tribe, when the dead of both armies stood up and attacked the remaining soldiers. They were indiscriminate and ruthless. They use no weapons, rather they bite their prey. The bite causes the recipient to become a living dead, as they are.

  I realise how hard this will be to hear and hopefully the centurion can go some way to convince you of my earnestness.

  I pray that you are able to believe the news because this menace is spreading. Already most of the known Germani tribes have been driven from their homes and are seeking refuge with the garrison. We are reduced in numbers and need reinforcements immediately. The senate and emperor must be convinced of the severity of the situation before it is too late.

  Ever your trusted friend,

  Cornelius Clemens

  Praetor Domitius stopped reading the letter and simply stared at his hands for a long time. His office was at the back of the house and the noise of the street outside was all but gone. The light through the window showed the sun heading towards the end of day, giving a golden glow. Vitus studied his face for any sign of how he had taken the news. After what seemed like an eternity, he looked up at Vitus.

  “Tell me Centurion, how am I to believe any of this?”

  Vitus felt the weight of the question like a stone on his chest. This was the crux of the matter. Really, how could he expect this man to believe something he barely believed himself?

  “I can answer any question you may have, Praetor. I hope that the word of Governor Clemens will add weight to my words. If that is not enough, you can talk to Lucia. She has lost her father to this threat and has seen the Risen first hand.”

  “The Risen?” He raised his eyebrows.

  “That is the name we gave the dead. It helped to save confusion to give them a name, sir.”

  “You say my wife's brother is lost. How did he die, exactly.”

  Vitus looked down at the bare wooden floor between his feet, trying to put into words what he needed to say. “Sir, we arrived at your brother-in-law's estate to rescue any living but the Risen had attacked before we arrived. We were too late to save more than a coupe of the inhabitants, your niece was among them. Her father's body was not among the dead nor was he seen among the Risen.”

  “And it was during this fight that the young man upstairs was injured?”

  “No sir. That was later during the fall of Mutina.”

  “Gods! This is too much! How am I supposed to take all this in? Mutina has fallen? When, and why haven't we heard of this?”

  “A very good question, sir, and one to which I would like an answer. The way news travels around the empire, I’m astounded that there isn’t panic in the streets about this.”

  The praetor became very quiet and still. Vitus could see his mind working behind his eyes, but like any good politician it was almost impossible to read his face. After a while he asked a simple question that was all the confirmation Vitus needed that the man was willing to believe. As he heard it asked, he felt a weight lifted from his chest.

  “How bad is it?”

  “It’s like the Gates of Hades have been opened. We have lost control of the area north of the Alps and Italy is in danger unless we talk to the emperor and mobilise every man we have to fight.”

  “How on earth do I do that?” It was clearly a rhetorical question, and Vitus remained quiet in order to give the praetor time to think. “If I march into the senate and lay this out for them, they will laugh themselves into the grave. I need to speak to Vespasian alone, or as alone as I can. I will need you to come with me and we will need the luck of the gods.”

  After sitting and mulling the situation over for a while, Domitius seemed to come to a decision and his resolve firmed. He called for Paulus,
who must have been standing outside the door as he opened it instantly.

  “Paulus, send a runner to the palace. Tell them to inform the Emperor's staff that I need to speak to him urgently. They are to say that it is a matter of vital importance. Tell them that I will be following within minutes.”

  Paulus nodded, making no sign that he found this order at all unusual. Before he turned to leave he asked.

  “Will there be anything else, Praetor?”

  “A litter and a couple of guards are to be waiting outside as quickly as possible.” Domitius spoke in the manner of one who is used to giving orders and expects them to be followed.

  Domitius watched Paulus bow himself out of the room before turning back to Vitus.

  “My new friend, I am about to throw you in with the lions I’m afraid. No doubt Governor Clemens thought a lot of you, to send you to me but now comes your hardest trial yet. By the time they are finished with you, you may wish to be facing a horde of these Risen.”

  He smiled, but his eyes showed a mixture of fear and mild panic. Vitus wondered whether the praetor wasn’t the one being thrown to the lions. He realised this politician had so much riding on his reputation and to put that reputation on the line over something like this must be hard.

  Less than a quarter of an hour later the two men were being carried in a litter through the streets of Rome. Vitus couldn’t help thinking back over how much his fortunes had changed since his first encounter with the Risen. On the morning of the battle he had been lying on damp grass in a field, somewhere in Germania and now he was riding through the streets of the most important city in the world.

  The streets were heaving with pedestrians and carts. Stall holders and shop owners took up as much of the space outside their premises as they did inside. The buildings towered over Vitus. He was a man used to the wide open spaces and now everything seemed to loom over him.

  As they neared the palace the people thinned and the hawkers and traders all but disappeared. The gates were guarded by soldiers in immaculate uniforms who stood to attention while the litter was approached by a centurion.

  “Praetor Domitius, I have just received word I am to allow you through.” The man stepped back and waved them into a courtyard. The two men got out, and a pair of Praetorian guards led them further into the interior of the palace.

  Domitius seemed to be unaware of the opulence that surrounded him as he followed their escorts. Vitus, however, had to stop himself from staring open-mouthed at the huge, exquisite mosaics and tapestries that lined every wall and floor.

  The corridors were lined with bronze statues and marble busts. At one point they passed through an open courtyard with a huge statue in it. Vitus was unable to read the plaque at the bottom but was almost open mouthed at the workmanship and art that must have gone into making the piece.

  Without any clear idea of the turns and passages they had taken, Vitus was brought to a stop outside a pair of huge double doors. One of the guards whispered something to the secretary who sat at a desk to one side of the door. The man wrote something down on a scroll and then slipped through the door. After a few seconds the doors were opened and the guards stepped to one side, allowing Domitius and Vitus to enter.

  The high ceiling room was so richly decorated that it made the palace outside look like an army barracks. Bronze and gold seemed to adorn every alcove and corner. The curtains at the windows were made of enough of the richest cloth to uniform a cohort.

  In the center of the room, sat on a chair that looked simple in comparison to the rest of the room, was Emperor Vespasian. He was broad without being fat, and a thick band of hair surrounded a bald pate. He wore a tunic of obvious quality that was trimmed with gold edging.

  There were guards lining the walls of the room and a stocky man wearing the uniform of a high ranking officer stood to one side of the emperor. It was clear to Vitus that the two men had been talking before Domitius and himself had interrupted them.

  The secretary that had shown them in announced them. "Praetor Domitius, and Centurion Protus of the VIIIth legion, Caesar.”

  “Praetor, it’s always a pleasure. To what do we owe this meeting?” Vespasian asked, sitting back in his chair.

  “Sir, I’m afraid I carry news of the gravest nature. The centurion has travelled from Germania, under the orders of Governor Clemens, with a dispatch that will affect the empire deeply.” Domitius stood with his hands behind his back and waited to be asked about the news.

  “So this isn’t about the missing people then, Domitius?” The man beside the emperor asked.

  “Not at this time, prefect Otho.” Domitius answered. “I do, however, believe I have made a significant breakthrough in that matter. It is only the nature of the news Centurion Vitus carries that makes me forget my duty in that situation, at least temporarily.”

  As he spoke, he looked the prefect in the eye, Vitus sensed a lingering resentment between the two men.

  Emperor Vespasian interrupted the pair, “So Domitius, tell me the news that is so urgent.”

  Vitus listened for any hint of mockery and was reassured to hear none. Caesar Vespasian was obviously a man used to dealing with the news of an empire, and not one that would be easily impressed. Let us see how this news finds you, Vitus thought sardonically.

  Domitius looked round at Vitus and gave him a look of apology.

  “Sir, Centurion Vitus has witnessed everything I have to say, first hand. It is maybe best if he relayed the news. I would only pre-empt him by saying that the information he has is hard to believe but I have written confirmation from Governor Clemens to back his words.”

  “Very well, Centurion.” Vespasian nodded. “After all, you have travelled a long way to be with us. Let us hear what has brought you to Rome.”

  Domitius stepped back, and gave Vitus the floor. So it was that a man, who until a few weeks ago was no more than an archer in an auxiliary unit in Germania, found himself face to face with the most powerful man in the world.

  “Sir”, was all he could say for a second. “Sir, Germania was on the brink of falling from the empire when I left the legions there.”

  Vespasian leaned back looking shocked, he glanced at the prefect who shrugged and shook his head.

  “Sir. We were, I believe, pushing northwards in an attempt to expand your domain when an unearthly disaster struck.”

  Vespasian held up his hand. “Unearthly? Explain.”

  “That is the crux of the matter, sir. We were mid battle and were well on top of the situation when...sir…when the dead got up from the ground and attacked both armies.”

  Vitus almost blurted out the last words. They seemed to come out in a shout, in the otherwise quiet room.

  “Repeat that please, centurion,” said Vespasian.

  “Sir, the dead from both sides stood up and began to attack the living remnants of both armies. They bit and clawed at us. They fought with a frenzy I’ve never seen in a living man. We were caught between the Germani and the dead, and all but destroyed.

  “We made a retreat to our field camp and then, in the days that followed, we made our way to the main camp. We were but a few of the men that we had been.

  “The Risen, that is what we have taken to calling them, have moved like a wave through Germania and destroyed the country almost entirely. Governor Clemens sent me to you to…”

  The Caesar Vespasian held up a hand again, and Vitus felt a wave of relief wash over him. He had begun to talk faster and faster until he thought he would just keep on talking.

  “The dead? You expect me to believe that the dead are walking around in Germania and killing our legions?”

  “Sir. I realise this is a lot to take in. I lived through it and I still have trouble believing I’m not insane. I’m also afraid there is more to tell.”

  “Gods! There is more!” Vespasian almost shouted. “Please centurion, by all means, tell me the rest.

  “This part is not in the dispatch which Praetor Domitius carries
. Mutina has fallen to the Risen. I was there and saw it burning.” Vitus stopped, feeling no need to add more to the already extraordinary news he had delivered.

  Vespasian turned to the prefect beside him.

  “Otho, do we have any news from Mutina?”

  “Caesar, I’m sure this must be a fabrication. Not one report has reached my desk from the north. Shall I send riders out?”

  Vespasian looked first at Otho, and then at Vitus. He held his hand out.

  “I will read the dispatch from Governor Clemens now please, Domitius.”

  Vitus stood as the Caesar read the letter, once and then again. He seemed to study every word. Finally, after a long time he turned to Otho and spoke in a quiet voice that wasn’t his own.

  “Yes Otho, send riders. After they have left, close the gates and call an emergency meeting of the senate, this evening. Send out runners to bring every Senator in Rome. Tell them nothing, except that I have called the meeting.”

  He seemed to wilt as he spoke. Vitus sympathised, and as he took a sideways glance at Domitius, he saw the same look on the Praetor's face.

  Domitius nodded to him at a job well done and Vitus began to breath normally again. He took the time to look around the room and saw that the guards were looking flushed and flustered. They were all looking at Vitus, or the emperor, in puzzlement or expectation.

  Otho left the chamber and quickly returned. He approached Vespasian and reported that twenty riders were being readied to journey to Mutina and runners were heading to the gates to have them closed as soon as the riders had left. With that done and no more orders forthcoming from Caesar, Otho turned to Domitius.

  “Praetor, there appears to be time for me to take your report about the missing citizens. With your permission, Caesar, I will hear the news now?” He looked at the emperor as he asked the question and Vespasian shook his head.