Fallen Legion

by David Thompson

  "Drop the pretentious act," Marcus said gruffly. "Neither of us are nobles, and if you act like we are you will draw unwanted attention to us."

  "I understand," Dahmus said.

  "Understand this," Marcus said. "These are the rules you shall follow if you want to travel with us: you will do nothing which attracts unnecessary attention. You will, at all times and for all decisions, defer the final judgement in those decisions to me. You will not speak out of turn when others are present, and you will limit your side of our conversations to simple pleasantries or questions directly related to the job at hand. I have been told that you are good with a sword; while I am pleased to hear that, do not imagine that you will find many opportunities to put your skills to the test in the weeks to come. You will draw your weapon when I tell you to, and never before. We may not be wearing uniforms, but we are legionairres nonetheless, and you shall damned well obey my every command. Do you understand?"

  "Y...yes sir."

  "I'll say this once," Marcus said with a sigh, "and once only. Do not call me 'sir'. That's one of those things which will draw unwanted attention to us."

  "Of course, si....I mean, yes. I understand."

  "Good. Now, adjust that bloody cloak of yours. A child could spot the sword under there, and while I do not believe the Sicambrii to be even half as perceptive as the average Roman child, I believe it would be indiscrete for us to take the chance."

  Nodding, Dahmus adjusted his cloak to better hide the weapon underneath. When it was done well enough to suit Marcus' tastes, Marcus nodded and gestured to the gate. Dahmus maneuvered his horse into position beside Marcus' cart, and the three of them set a leisurely pace to the gate. The caution of adjusting Dahmus' cloak seemed to be in vain; just as when Marcus had entered the city, half a dozen Sicambrii guardsmen were lounging around in the general vicinity of the city gate. Most of them were lost in what appeared to be some sort of tribal drinking game, and the remaining guard was keeping only a disinterested gaze on the traffic going in and out of the city.

  Damned tribals,Marcus thought, letting a wave of disgust wash over him as he observed the Sicambrii. We could probably march an army through the city gates right now and they wouldn't do a damned thing. Hell, if we gave them a few bottles of whiskey, they would probably help us unload the supply wagons. How that bastard son-of-a-whore Vestatian manage to motivate them enough to form a cohesive army and train them in basic tactics is beyond me.

  "So, Dahmus," Marcus said in a deliberate attempt to snap himself out of his reverie, "Domitian told me that you served under me at Agrippinensis...as a siege engineer, I believe."

  "Yes," Dahmus said. "In fact, I served under your command in the Legion 1 Minervia for a full year before Agrippinensis. I was responsible for maintaining a ballista, but I always believed that my abilities would be better served in a more direct combat capacity."

  "Why is that?" Marcus asked. "And please, do not tell me that it's an issue of glory or honour. Honour on the battlefield is a concept greatly exaggerated by poets and housewives; once you have experienced drudging through muddy fields for hours on end only to end up embroiled in battle with thousands of enemy troops who wish for nothing more than to tear you limb from limb, you will have an entirely different view of the glory of the battlefield, I assure you."

  "No, no, no," Dahmus said. After a pause, he continued. "Well, yes, but not in the way you think. I realize that the battlefield is not so romantic a place as poets would have us believe, but the glory of surviving a battle and returning home laden with the spoils of war is unmistakeable. You'd be surprised at how little treasure remains on a battlefield after the infantry and cavalry has looted it. And then the looks on the faces of the local women as you parade through town with your trophies...that's something you just don't get when you're a siege engineer."

  Marcus was unable to restrain his laughter. "Let me make sure I understand you," he said between peals of laughter. "You want to be in the infantry...for the women?"

  "Yes," Dahmus replied as if that desire were the most natural thing in the world. "What's wrong with that?"

  "Good gods, man," Marcus said, finally letting his laughter taper off. "Why not just take your pay and go to a brothel? With what you make from a month's service patrolling the outer stretches of the province, you could easily get a handful of whores to express any kind of awe you want."

  "Whores?" Dahmus said scornfully. "Whores are not my style. They're not...they're not real. Sure, they'll say or do anything that you want them to do, but not because they want to do it. When I want someone extolling my virtues as a warrior, I want them to do it because I am a skilled warrior, not because I'm lining their purses with a few coins. And it's not just women. Everyone looks at you differently when you're a hero."

  "Not just women, eh?" Marcus jested. "Maybe you aren't very well travelled, but the last time I checked, whores come in both sexes. Come on, man, let's be reasonable. Do you have any idea of the pain and tribulations that an infantryman has to go through just to get a single hero's parade? It is by and large a thankless job, and once those very few parades end most people tend to forget your glorious deeds before the sun rises the next morning. You are far better off taking a job like the one which you had. Find some other way of gaining the admiration you seek."

  "That's funny," Alexandra said. "I never saw you as the sort of person who would advocate the use of prostitutes, Marcus, nor did I see you as the sort of person who would advise someone against taking their chances on the field of battle."

  "Only when the situation warrants it," Marcus said with a smile. "With all due respect to our companion here, I am still not certain that his motivations are entirely appropriate. If the thought of missing out on glory is enough to even give him pause about his newly chosen occupation, then I am not certain that he will be entirely reliable in the heat of battle. And, for the record, I was only joking about the prostitutes."

  Alexandra shot Marcus a look of amused reproach. "Should he not be free," she said with a smile, "to choose his own occupation? I'm sure that there was a time when you were just as inexperienced; had someone not taken a chance on you, you would never have become the warrior that you are today."

  "I'm not sure about that," Marcus said with a devilish grin. "I've always been very experienced. In battle, I mean."

  "I'm sure you did," Alexandra said as Dahmus trained in vain to stifle his laughter. "Innuendo aside, I do think you should give Dahmus a chance."

  "Of course," Marcus said. "I have every intention of giving Dahmus the opportunity to prove himself. Since he has not yet backed down, despite my cautions, I assume that he has the courage of his convictions."

  "I do," Dahmus interjected. "Have the courage of my convictions, I mean."

  "You were not directly addressed, recruit! Do not speak," Marcus said, "unless either myself or the lady Alexandra speaks to you."

  "Go easy on him, Marcus," Alexandra said, gently placing her hand on Marcus' arm.

  "I am going easy on him," Marcus said. "We must operate with military discipline if we are to have any hope of succeeding at our mission. If I were not going easy on him, I would have beaten him for the infraction of the code of conduct that I laid out for him - and I do not rule out the possibility of such a punishment should he commit a similar infraction in the future."

  Alexandra nodded, though she obviously did not agree with Marcus' views on discipline. Marcus felt his stomach sink a little as he noted the obvious disapproval she felt. Why does her disapproval affect me so? Perhaps,he mused, Lucia was right. This sort of feeling would not persist if she were only a travelling companion.

  Silence overtook the trio as they marched ceaselessly on down the westward road from Cologne. The city slowly faded into the distance behind them as the afternoon wore on into dusk. When the sun's light was almost completely extinguished, Marcus decided that the three of them should find a place to stop and rest for the evening. Heavy forests covered both sides of the na
rrow road, making it difficult to find somewhere to stop which would not require them to block the road. After nearly half an hour of trudging onward trying to find a place to camp for the evening, Marcus pulled back on the reigns and brought his and Alexandra's horses to a stop. Dahmus followed suit, watching Marcus carefully. Marcus gestured into the distance, indicating a beaten path which lead from the road into the forest.

  "What is it?" Alexandra asked.

  "I smell smoke from this direction," Marcus replied. "The trees are thick, but I'd be willing to wager a gold coin that there's some sort of abode not far down that path. Since there do not seem to be any other places for us to stop and camp around here, perhaps we could convince the owner of the dwelling to give us shelter for the evening?"

  "Perhaps," Alexandra said, "but what if they refuse? Do we continue travelling in the dark?"

  "That is the beauty of our position," Marcus said. "We need only tell them of our goals and the cause which we serve. If they are loyal citizens of the Empire, then they shall give us shelter."

  "And if they are not?"

  "Then they are traitors," Marcus said, "and they shall meet the fate that traitors meet. Either way, we end up with shelter for the evening."

  "So you would simply kill them, even if they are not active combatants?"

  "Yes, I would...but I doubt that will be the case, Alexandra. You know as well as I do that most of our fellow citizens hate the Sicambrii as much as we do. I'm sure they will jump at the chance to help us. There's only one way to find out."

  With no sign of an objection from Alexandra, Marcus directed the horses to turn down the rough path which lead in the presumed direction of the dwelling. Because the path was too narrow for him to follow beside Marcus and Alexandra's cart, Dahmus was forced to follow single file behind them. The path twisted and turned for several hundred feet, finally opening up into a spacious clearing. As Marcus has predicted, a small cottage occupied the center of the clearing, and small puffs of smoke rose from the chimney. The signs of rural life were everywhere around the house - a small coop filled with chickens sat alongside the house, and an axe was buried in a chopping block not far from that. Marcus pulled the horses to a stop and jumped down from the cart.

  Marcus approached the cottage door, followed by Alexandra and Dahmus. He knocked on the door with three loud, clear, resounding thuds. It took only a few seconds until the door was pulled open by a tiny child. She seemed to struggle with the weight of the door, but finally opened it enough to peek up at her visitors, her brown eyes sparkling out from below a thick mass of curly brown hair.

  "Can I help you?" She asked, the sweetness of her voice bringing a smile even to Marcus' battle-scarred face.

  "Is your father - " Marcus' question was cut off by a large, heavyset man scuttling to the doorway and pulling the girl aside.

  "Daria! I've told you a thousand times," he scolded her, "never answer the door for strangers!"

  "I'm sorry, Daddy," she said, her lower lip quivering.

  "It's ok, honey," he said, bending down to hug his daughter, "but don't do it again, OK?"

  As the girl nodded, Marcus' head snapped up. He had been sure that he recognized the large man's voice, and he had finally placed it.

  "I'll be damned," he said with a grin. "Do my eyes deceive me, or is this Centurion William Ilona standing before me?"

  "It's just William these days," the man said, standing up and turning to face Marcus. "I have been - by the gods! General Ulpius? But...I'd been told that you died at Agrippinensis!"

  "In a way, I did," Marcus said. "But I stand before you a new man. Or, perhaps more appropriately, a new version of my old self. I must say that I am glad to see one of my former soldiers here - I have a favour to ask, and I'm afraid it is quite urgent."

  "Of course, General. Please, come in. You're welcome to stay here and help yourself to anything you require. Let me get you and your companions some drinks."

  "Thank you for your hospitality, William. I hope our imposition will be of no trouble," Marcus said, following William into the cottage. Although it was small, the main room of the cottage was cozy. Several seats were set around a small dining table, and the various accoutrements of family life were scattered around the room. A tall, raven haired woman sat at the table, holding Daria close to her, still suspicious of their visitors. Alexandra and Dahmus followed close on Marcus' heels, allowing the door to fall shut behind them. "William, please allow me to introduce my companions. This fine lady here is Cologne's Oracle of Mars."

  "Please, call me Alexandra," she said, curtseying to William.

  "And this fellow," Marcus said, gesturing to Dahmus, "served with us at Agrippinensis, though he was one of the fortunate few serving with the seige engines."

  "Ah...a rock-chucker, eh?" William said with a laugh.

  "Ballista operator, actually," Dahmus said with a bow. "Though I have had a change of occupation since then. I am now a proud infantryman. You can call me Dahmus."

  "Well," William said, "it's always good to see someone make the leap to becoming a real soldier. Congratulations. So, Marcus, Alexandra, and Dahmus, please allow me the pleasure of introducing my wife Talia," he gestured to the woman seated at the table, "and I believe that you've already met my daughter Daria. Please, sit."

  Marcus and his companions sat at the table, and William set out the drinks he had promised - glasses of some sort of thick, almost stiflingly strong wine. After a few minutes of exchanging petty small talk, Marcus took a deep breath and dove straight into the issue which had brought him there.

  "William," he said, "I told you that I have a favour to ask of you, and I must ask it now."

  "Of course, General. What would you have of me?"

  "First," Marcus said with a gentle smile, "stop calling me General. We're in an informal enough setting. You should feel free to call me Marcus. Second, I believe that this may be an issue best discussed in private. I am unsure that your family wishes to hear what I have to say."

  "With all due respect, Marcus," William said, "anything that you have to say can be said in the presence of my family."

  "If you wish," Marcus said. "I'm sure you are well aware of the oppression which the Sicambrii have thrust upon us. They and those bastards led by Vestatian have ravaged this land."

  "Aye, I'm well enough aware of the damage those bastards are wreaking," William said in disgust. "They've been taxing us to the hilt. Hardly a week goes by without some bloody goon patrol knocking on my door, threatening to raze my home to the ground if I don't hand over every single piece of gold I own. Just yesterday they came by, demanding more 'taxes'. At this rate, I'll never have enough coin to feed my family properly."

  "That's exactly what I'm speaking about," Marcus said. "Their rule cannot be tolerated any longer...which brings me to my point. We are representing a movement in this province - a movement which seeks to rebuild the old provincial legions and to crush the Sicambrii. We're seeking trained soldiers who can help us train more conscripts, and I would have you join us."

  William stared down into his drink for a long moment, contemplating what Marcus had said. Finally, he responded: "I am sorry, Marcus, but I must refuse. Like you, I wish to see the Sicambrii suffer and be removed from power, but I have other obligations now. Ever since our loss at Agrippinensis, I have decided that my family must be my first obligation. We have built a comfortable home here, and have a good life. If I go off to fight the Sicambrii again, then who is to say that I would survive? I wish you the best, and still extend my offer of shelter for the evening, but I do not believe I can help any further than that."

  "Is there no way I can persuade you?" Marcus asked.

  "I'm afraid not," William said.

  "I am very sorry to hear that," Marcus said, "but I will respect your wishes, so long as I know that you hold no sympathies for the Sicambrii."

  "Sympathy?" William spat on the floor. "I want nothing more than to see every one of those damned tribals hang, but I mu
st take care of my family. Speaking of which, the hour is late and my family should be getting some sleep. Let me gather some blankets for you. I'm afraid that accomodations are quite cramped, so you shall have to sleep in this room here."

  "That will be fine," Marcus said with a disappointed smile. William disappeared into the next room, then returned with a small pile of neatly folded blankets. He handed them to Talia, who spread them out on the floor, neatly arranging them so that the three could sleep comfortably without the risk of incidental misbehaviour between one of the men and Alexandra. As she went about her work, Marcus and William chatted back and forth with more small talk. Finally, when the blankets were arranged to Talia's satisfaction, Talia and William bid their visitors good night and retired to their bedroom. With no further reason to avoid sleep, the trio blew out the lamp which was providing them with light, then curled up underneath their respective blankets for a restful night's sleep.

  Chapter VII

  The next morning, Marcus was woken by a gentle poking at his shoulder. His eyes gradually fluttered open to see Daria crouched by his head, staring curiously at him. He rubbed his eyes, blinked, and then smiled at her.

  "Good morning, little one," he said. "Isn't it a little early for you to be awake?"

  "No," she said. "I'm a big girl. I can be awake any time when the sun is shining."

  "And I guess that means that all of us have to be up then, too, right?" Marcus asked with a quiet chuckle.

  "Yep! Everyone should be up now," she said enthusiastically, "'cause the sun's up and the birds are chirping and the horses are all snuffly, and, and, and -"

  "Yes," Marcus said. "I see your point. It's a beautiful day, and everyone should be enjoying it, right?"

  "Uh-huh," she said with a smile.

  "Well," he said with a grin, "why don't you go wake my friends and your parents up? I'll wait here!"

  "OK!" she exclaimed happily, and ran off to do exactly that. Marcus propped himself up on his elbows, watching with a small amount of glee as Daria latched onto Alexandra's shoulder and shook her until she woke. Alexandra and Marcus shared a knowing smile as Daria moved on to wake Dahmus, and then ran off to her parent's bedroom, presumably still intent on waking every single person in the household. Moments later Daria emerged from the bedroom, dragging her parents behind her. William glared at Marcus.