“A tasty little thing,” Amelius said to the tribune. “Wouldn’t you agree?”
“Yes, you are just what I am looking for.” Piso said in a devilish whisper, as if talking to the distant woman directly. “I will have you, my pretty. Now, be a good girl, and go back inside for me.”
The impatient tribune had to wait a little longer than he desired, but eventually, the buckets were empty, and the woman and the boy went back inside the hut, her muffled singing still audible.
Piso then whipped around and gestured to Vitalis to follow with the two squads.
“Sir!” Vitalis interjected in a harsh whisper. “I advise against this. Something is not right here.”
Call it the instinct of a veteran of the Gallic wars, but Lucius fully understood Vitalis’s meaning. Aside from the dogs, the forest was too quiet to be natural. It was something that could only be felt, not conveyed, and the hardened veterans felt it now.
But the inexperienced and reckless Piso was oblivious to it. Ignoring the centurion’s warning, he and Amelius broke from cover and began sprinting toward the hut with swords drawn. Vitalis had no choice but to order the two squads forward.
“Stay together!” he commanded, glancing at Lucius for the first time since they had left the column. It was a guilty look and it did not last long. “Proper interval, now! Two ranks! Line abreast! March!”
Lightning flashed again, reflecting off of the legionaries’ bronze helmets. The soldiers crossed the field at a brisk pace, the light sprinkle of rain beading on the links in their mail armor and soaking through to their tunics. The tribune and his companion had crossed the field far ahead of the legionaries, and were both leaping over the waist-high rock wall before the soldiers were half-way there. The two reached the hut and took up positions on both sides of the door, waiting for the woman to re-emerge. She still sang, despite the fact that the two dogs in the cage now worked themselves into a frenzy, clawing and gnawing at the bolted door.
As Lucius’s boots crunched on the sprouts of wheat, he began to wonder why this farm had been spared the devastation that had been inflicted on all of the other farms for miles around. No doubt, it was yet another factor that contributed to Vitalis’s nervousness. Perhaps the farm belonged to a Nervii chieftain. Still, something was not right about the place.
The woman finally emerged from the hut, just as the two squads of legionaries reached the rock wall. She took one look at them and her face went blank. She dropped the buckets to run back inside the hut, but she had not seen Piso and Amelius behind her. In an instant, they had her firmly in their clutches. The two men taunted her and laughed as she struggled to get away.
“Oh, she’s a feisty one!” Piso said avoiding the woman’s attempts to bite him and spit in his face. “She’ll do very well, I think.”
“There goes the lad!” shouted one of the soldiers, pointing to the back of the hut, where the boy had emerged from another door and was bolting for the forest.
“Let him go!” shouted Piso, evidently not wanting to be bothered by the boy. “Centurion, post your men as we have discussed!”
“Yes, sir,” Vitalis replied, half-heartedly and then motioned for the century to fan out. “First squad, stand watch behind the hut. Second squad, over by the mill. Move!”
Before Lucius could move out with his squad, Vitalis extended his branch to stop him. “Not you, Lucius. You remain here.”
Lucius noticed Jovinus cast a curious glance over his shoulder as Jovinus and the rest of the squad started to move out, but a glare from Vitalis sent the nosy soldier quickly on his way.
Soon all of the others were out of earshot, leaving only Lucius behind with the tow officers and the squirming woman. The three officers made no attempt to hide their intentions now, and Lucius had suddenly become the center of their attention. Vitalis was looking at him, his face a mix of internal strife and determination. Piso and Amelius were looking at him, too, their faces brandishing poisonous grins. Even the woman, struggling between the two nobles, was looking at him, her eyes filled with fear and confusion.
“I think this son of a miner is going to piss himself!” Piso said mockingly.
“He looks simply frightened!” Amelius jeered, followed by a high-pitched laugh.
Lucius was nothing of the kind, but he held his tongue. He knew exactly what this was. They were trying to make him angry, trying to coax him into doing something insubordinate, so that military justice could do their dirty work for them. It all made sense now. The scant number of soldiers meant fewer witnesses, and now that the others were out of earshot, it would be his word against the officers’. There was no escape. It was not an unknown trick in the legions. He had seen it done to others before, by other corrupt officers who fit the mold of Piso and Amelius, but he had never expected it from the likes of Vitalis.
He was certainly angry. He was enraged. He cared little about the bloody tribune and his pretty-boy pet, but the betrayal of Vitalis left him fuming. He half thought of driving his pilum through the centurion’s neck, if he could manage it. Vitalis was quicker than he.
“I see his lip quivering,” Piso said tauntingly. “Too bad he has no mother to run home to. What do you think, Vitalis?”
The centurion was not laughing as the other two were. “Can we not get this over with, sir?” he obviously took no delight in whatever they had planned between them.
“Oh, if you insist,” Piso said.
The tribune then released his grip on the woman’s right arm, and with one quick motion, tore away the front of her dress, exposing her bare white breasts to the pattering rain. Piso then slapped her hard across the face. This stirred the barking dogs to a new height of madness, not to be outmatched by the woman herself, who struck back at Piso with her free hand. She dragged her nails across his clean-shaven cheek, leaving behind three red trails of blood.”
Piso’s eyes registered shock at first. He stopped laughing and brought his hand to his face. Evidently, he had not expected such a violent attack. With some difficulty, Amelius managed to get hold of the cursing woman’s free hand and then drew up both of her arms behind her.
“You bitch!” Piso said looking at his bloody fingertips in disbelief. “You filthy Belgic bitch!”
He then punched her in the stomach, doubling her over, and the caged dogs stirred to a new level of fury. Amelius let the coughing woman fall to the ground. Before she could regain her breath Piso had grabbed up a hand full of her hair and dragged her over to the rock wall where Lucius and Vitalis stood. His face was red with rage.
“I am no longer in the mood to play games, Legionary Lucius Domitius, son of Sextus Domitius of Gades. Let us dispense with any further pageantry!”
When they had called him the son of a miner, Lucius had dismissed it as something anyone could have known. But now, invoking his place of origin, Lucius knew why Piso was trying to kill him, or at least, who had sent him to do it. He just did not know the connection.
Piso pulled on the cursing young woman’s blonde locks until her head was flat against the top of the wall.
“Your tribune has been assaulted by this woman, legionary,” he said. “It is an affront to your cohort, an affront to your legion, and an affront to Rome. I therefore order you to draw your sword and kill her.”
So this was it, Lucius thought. Their plan was to order him to do something they knew he would not do. Vitalis was silent, staring at the ground, as if this was a play that had already been acted out.
“What is your grievance with me, sir?” Lucius asked in the calmest manner he could, stalling for time that he might think of something. “Have I wronged you in any way? Have I shirked my duties?”
“You mean you haven’t figured it out yet?” Piso said incredulously, licking at the blood dripping past his lips as he held onto the squirming woman. “You’re more of a fool than they said you were. Yes, you bastard son of a miner whore! You have wronged me! You are - ”
“Uh, your tribune has given you an order
, Legionary!” Amelius’s feeble voice interrupted, as if to stop Piso from saying too much. “Are you going to obey it? A simple reply, yes or no, is all that the tribune requires!”
Piso checked himself, but held the woman’s head firmly against the wall, exposing her thin neck. The dogs cried wildly, their husky barks almost deafening. The young woman looked up at Lucius with fearful eyes, and Lucius saw that her eyes were green, like the trees and fields of her lands – like the eyes of his dead sister and mother.
“No.” Lucius replied simply, then looked at Vitalis. “You know I will not.”
“And why not, Lucius?” Piso said. “Why won’t you kill women and children? Because it reminds you of another incident – one that happened, shall we say, six years ago?”
“He has refused, Tribune,” Vitalis broke in. “Is that not enough? There is no need to stretch this out any further.”
Piso flashed a look of anger at having been interrupted again, but then checked himself. “Yes, quite right, Vitalis. He has refused a direct order, a lawful order, and in so doing has sealed his own fate. Place him under arrest. When we rejoin the legion, he will face the fustuarium.”
For a moment, Lucius thought of making a move, but he instantly thought better of it. Vitalis would surely kill him before his next heartbeat. Perhaps that would be a better fate. Were the legate of the Seventh to find him guilty, which he would, and issue the fustuarium, Lucius would be beaten to death in front of the legion. It was a dishonorable death. He might just as well die now by Vitalis’s hand. But something made him resist. Perhaps it was the pleading green eyes of the girl that reminded him of those he had lost so long ago. Surely, she would be killed, too. Somehow, he thought something may yet save her, and him. Perhaps the legate would show him mercy, though the chance of that was slim. There was also the gnawing feeling inside him that begged to know how Piso was connected to his former life.
Vitalis called Jovinus and the second squad to come back to the hut. They all looked puzzled and completely bewildered by what they had just witnessed from afar. Jovinus appeared further confused when Vitalis ordered him to take possession of Lucius’s weapons. Lucius could at least find solace in the fact that his own tent mates did not appear to be a part of the conspiracy. That was something. He handed over his pilum, gladius, and pugio to Jovinus without a struggle. Jovinus’s expression plainly told Lucius that he followed the centurion’s orders only with the greatest reluctance. There was hope yet.
“Legionary Domitius is under arrest,” Vitalis said to Jovinus and another soldier from Lucius’s squad. “He will march between you. One step out of line, and you are to kill him. Is that clear?” Vitalis then gestured to another soldier as he scanned the tree line. “Come over here and slay this woman. I wish to leave this accursed place.”
“Just a moment, Vitalis,” Amelius said, then rested a hand on Piso’s shoulder and whispered into the tribune’s ear. Whatever Amelius said drew a sinister grin on Piso’s face, and both men began to laugh hysterically. Piso quickly tugged the woman by the hair, dragging her away from the wall and toward the hut.
“I’ve reconsidered, Vitalis,” Piso said. “This whore does not need to die – at least, not yet. Post your men and see to it they keep a good watch. This won’t take long.”
The two nobles then began dragging the woman toward the door.
“I strongly recommend that we leave without delay, sir,” Vitalis called after them.
Piso glowered over his shoulder. “Do what you’re told, Centurion!”
The young woman obviously fully understood the licentious intentions of the two men. She kicked and screamed at them, but every measure of resistance only seemed to amuse them more. They laughed at her, taunted her, struck her across the face, and tore away her clothing. Lucius made eye contact with her pleading eyes, just as her half-naked figure was dragged inside the darkened doorway.
It started to rain harder as the legionaries outside stared at each other and listened to the tear of clothing and the screams of the woman. Small rivulets trickled off the thatched roof. The wet trees stood tall around the farm, as if to stare at the legionaries like judges glaring at the accused.
At that moment, Jovinus nudged Lucius to get his attention and whispered, “Come on.”
Jovinus then pretended to direct Lucius with the point of his pilum, and led him to the side of the house.
“Where are you taking him, Jovinus?” Vitalis had been intently watching the surrounding tree line when he finally noticed.
Jovinus shot a quick glance at Lucius before answering, “Says he’s got to take a piss, sir.”
“That’s far enough. He can piss right there.”
“Yes, sir,” Jovinus said, and then turned to Lucius and winked. “I guess you’ll have to go right here – by these infernal dogs.”
Lucius smiled at his tent mate. Jovinus had taken him to within three steps of the dog pen. After seeing their mistress battered and dragged inside the hut, the beasts were livid, snarling with lips raised to expose their terrible fangs. When Vitalis turned his attention back to the tree line, Lucius took two steps and kicked open the latch on the gate with his third.
Vitalis turned at the noise, but anything he might have done would have been too late. Nearly tearing the gate off its hinges, the dogs broke from the pen. In a flash of gray pelts and white teeth, the snarling beasts bounded for the door and disappeared inside the hut. The woman’s screams stopped and were instantly replaced by the horrified shrieks of a man being savaged by ravenous jaws and knife-like teeth. One man’s voice called for help. Another cried out in unimaginable pain as animal teeth met human bone and jerking muzzles tore away flesh.
Vitalis responded, perhaps a few moments longer than it should have taken him, entering the hut with gladius drawn. The dogs yelped, and then were silent. The centurion and Amelius then emerged carrying something that once had been a man, but was now a mass of blood and mangled skin. Tears streamed from Amelius’s face as he and Vitalis lowered Piso to the ground. The tribune still lived, but his body was broken and his flesh in tatters. In some places, his bare bones were exposed. Aside from an unceasing trembling, he appeared unable to move.
“Oh, dear Jupiter!” Amelius cried, cradling the tribune’s bloody face in his hands. “Dear Jupiter, what has happened to him? How could this happen? Dear, Piso! My dear Piso!”
Vitalis, on the other hand, did not appear near as touched by the tribune’s condition. He stood, and looked down on the unfortunate young man with what Lucius recognized as disgust.
“He did this!” Amelius shouted between sobs, pointing at Lucius, who still stood by the animal pens. “He is to blame! Slay him, Centurion!”
Vitalis snubbed the order and instead turned his gaze back to the trees, as if something had caught his ear.
“Did you hear me, Centurion?” Amelius demanded maniacally. “I order you to – “
The young noble was cut short by a strike from the back of Vitalis’s hand. “Be silent, you babbling fool! Listen!”
At that moment, a horn sounded in the woods.
"What was that?" Amelius said, rubbing his smarting cheek.
"Legionaries, to me!" Vitalis shouted. "To me!"
The two squads converged on the hut, and formed up in front of their centurion.
Then, as they all looked across the field, the very woods came alive with movement. A chanting began, not one voice but many, the battle cry of warriors. Then, as one man, a long line of spear laden warriors with round shields emerged from the trees. Long hair hung and scraggly manes outlined the fierce, painted faces. They wore the conical helmets of the Nervii, and their shields were freshly painted with elaborate designs, depicting creatures of the woods and of the sky. There were at least one hundred shields bourn by as many warriors.
"Who are they, Centurion?" Amelius said in a panic. "Where in Pluto's name did they come from?"
It was the first time Lucius had seen true fear on the adjutant's face. Unt
il now, the pampered noble's experience with the Belgae was limited to defenseless peasants and a few poorly armed village elders. He was now looking death in the face for the first time since arriving in Gaul.
"Form line behind the wall!" Vitalis barked, ignoring Amelius.
The legionaries sprang to obey, forming an unimpressive line of pila and shields just behind the waist-high, moss-covered rock barrier.
"What should I do with him, sir?" Jovinus called from the animal pens. He had not moved, and was still lackadaisically holding his javelin on Lucius.
Jovinus knew what the centurion's response would be before he gave it, as did Lucius. Five-to-one odds was a daunting prospect, and Lucius was worth any three of the others in a fight.
"Arm him, you bastard!" Vitalis replied grudgingly. "And get both of your arses over here with the others!"
The Nervii line slowly began to advance across the field, the fair-haired spearman shouting and jeering at the outnumbered band of Romans before them. Lucius knew there was little sense in making a break for it. The spearman were coming from the part of the woods where the legionaries had left their horses, so the mounts were probably gone. Running in the other direction was hardly better, as it might only lead them to another band of spearmen hiding in the woods. Their only option was to stand and fight.
The Nervii banged their shields with the butts of their spears as they approached. A few of the more frenzied warriors darted out ahead of the others in a show of reckless bravado. The wild men were completely naked and had cast away their shields to face the Romans only with long swords. They were the younger and less experienced ones whose muscled bodies had been honed in training, but not in battle. Perhaps they thought themselves invulnerable.
Vitalis grabbed a pilum from one of the legionaries and, with a quick sweep of his arm, hurled it at one of these bare-skinned fools. The javelin caught the youth squarely in the center of his rippled abdomen, the two-foot-long iron point emerging from his back with a torrent of blood. He was not immortal, and as he crumpled to the ground clutching the four-foot wooden shaft protruding from his belly, the others lost some of their fervor. But they kept coming on, chanting and moving slowly forward. A second javelin shattered the knee of another naked warrior, splintering bone and tendon and ejecting bloody matter as the iron tip tore its destructive path through the man's hairy leg. Despite these successes, there was no way that a score of legionaries could maintain a front against a hundred well-armed spearmen. Vitalis well knew this, and quickly deployed the twenty soldiers into three groups separated by intervals of thirty paces. Vitalis joined the greener legionaries in the center, and placed the more skilled fighters, like Lucius, with the groups on the flanks. The spearmen would have to divide their own line to take on the individual clumps of legionaries, albeit they would still outnumber them.
Rome: Fury of the Legion (Sword of the Legion Series) Page 6
