Fallen Legion

by David Thompson

  "I'll leave you gentlemen to it," Tamanash said. "Do not worry about making a mess. The room is cleaned on a regular basis."

  As Tamanash left the room, Marcus began to unbuckle the heavy armour which weighed him down, carefully placing it on the floor. His weapons and boots soon followed, their blackish blood-encrusted surfaces standing in sharp contrast to the white tile of the floor. As he pulled off his tunic and tossed it beside his armour, Marcus began to laugh. His hands were still covered in dried blood and muck, leaving a bizzare glove-like illusion in comparison to his pale forearms which had been completely protected from the splattering blood. William and Dahmus turned to see what Marcus found so amusing, and both found it just as funny when they uncovered similar effects on their own body.

  As his laughter gradually subsided, Marcus finished disrobing and slipped into the bathwater, groaning softly as the heated water began to ease the aching pain in his body. He carefully checked the stiches in his right shoulder, ensuring that none of them had been too severely aggravated in battle. Although the flesh around the threading was ragged and slightly red, none of the stitches had popped open. It will still heal just fine,Marcus thought with no small degree of satisfaction as he slid down into a relaxed reclining position in the bath.

  "General Ulpius," Dahmus said as he slid into the bath, "I know this may not be the appropriate time for such a question, but what is your plan for teaching these villagers to be warriors? They aren't particularly accustomed to the sort of life they would encounter in the legions, and we hardly have the time to prepare them adequately to fight the Sicambrii."

  "That," Marcus said, his eyes still closed as he relaxed in the warmth of the bath, "is the beauty of our duty here. We don't need to train them to be full time members of the legions. We do not need to create professional soldiers. Though it may seem crass to say so, our primary purpose here is to train these men well enough to deliver a blow or two in the heat of battle, then serve as fodder to slow down the enemy forces."

  "While we mow the bastards down by any means necessary," William said with a grin. His grin faded as he added: "Those of us who have the testicular fortitude to kill our enemies, that is."

  Marcus' eyes snapped open at the pointed insult. "Is there some concern in particular you wish to bring to my attention, Centurion?" He asked, placing heavy emphasis on William's low rank.

  "As a matter of fact, there is," William said.

  "Then just say what you mean to say," Marcus said. "Do not dance around the issue."

  "Very well. I think you've gone soft, General. You hesitated on the field of battle, when you saw that child. Your nerve faltered, and you paused. You were able to recover, but such hestitation is what costs lives in battle."

  "Yes, I hesitated to kill a child. I admit that," Marcus said, "with no small amount of pride. Certainly, hesitation costs lives in battle - but the sort of bloodthirst which has begun to overcome you costs souls. Women and children had to die, and more will have to die in the days to come. I understand and accept that, but I don't like it. I certainly don't enjoy it."

  "How can you not enjoy killing any and every Sicambrii man, woman, and child on the face of the earth? They killed your wife, just as they killed mine. You cannot tell me that you are not affected by the all-consuming urge to revel in the deaths of the enemy."

  "The children did not kill my wife. Nor did the women, for that matter. Do not mistake my distaste for killing innocents for pacifism, William. If you want to compare kill counts, I'd be willing to lay down a dozen gold coins that mine would outstrip yours by far. I have slaughtered, and will continue to slaughter, each and every Sicambrii warrior that I can."

  "You have fallen prey to the clutches of philosophy," William said with a sneer. "Are you sure there isn't a little Greek blood flowing in those veins of yours?"

  "If you insult your superior officer again," Marcus said, only half-jokingly, "there will be Roman blood flowing out of that neck of yours. Besides, philosophy really isn't so bad. An officer without regard for philosophy is like a sword without a soldier; deadly and powerful, even beautiful, but utterly lacking conviction or direction. Useless, in other words."

  "You can keep your philosophy," William said. "As long as I can keep my sword wet with Sicambrii blood."

  "Oh, there's little doubt that you'll be able to do that," Marcus said. "But what of it when every last Sicambrii is laying dead before you? What will you do then?"

  "I don't know," William replied. "I haven't really had a chance to think about that."

  "Well," Marcus said, "now you will."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Isn't it obvious? We need somebody capable of training villagers here. Dahmus, skilled as he may be, lacks experience in battle and thus the perspective necessary to properly train recruits. I cannot take the position, for I must journey on down the road, finding more recruits to send to you - hopefully also some veteran soldiers who are willing to pick up the sword once more. That leaves just you."

  "And this has nothing to do with punishment for daring to question you?"

  "Nothing at all. I'm not passive-agressive, William. Trust me when I say that if I decided to punish you, you would not be soaking comfortably in a bath right now. You would be in a much less comfortable position. Now come, we've had enough of this luxury for now. We all have jobs to do."

  A wave of blackish flecks of dried blood and dirt flowed off of Marcus' body as he rose out of the bath, leaving him clean and the water stained reddish-brown. Picking up a clean robe from a convenient hook on the wall, Marcus slipped the white garment around his body, then picked up his blood-encrusted and filthy equipment. Dahmus and William reluctantly followed suit, leaving the bath water behind them opaque.

  "Grab your gear and follow me," Marcus said. "It's time we get started with what we came here to do."

  Leaving the room, Marcus found Tamanash in the hallway, intently studying a sculpture of a legionairre which decorated the corridor. He turned to face Marcus as the door swung open.

  "Ah, Marcus," he said. "You are finished, then?"

  "Finished with one task," Marcus said with a hint of a smile. "But, as is the fate of every soldier, we complete one task only to move on to the next."

  "Indeed," Tamanash said. "I was just thinking the very same thing, actually. You know, this statue has decorated my hall for nearly a decade now. I've never really thought about it before, but given the circumstances, I thought it would be well advised for me to truly consider the requirements of a soldier. Dedication, fortitude, strength, charisma; I see all these things in you, and to a lesser extent in your companions. Perhaps it is just a trick of the eyes, but I cannot see it in this statue. Moreover, I cannot see it in myself."

  "Those are not qualities innate in most people," Marcus said. "Do not be discouraged if you cannot perceive them in yourself. They will only become apparent through training. That is what we are here for. You'll see those qualities in yourself soon enough."

  "Yes, I suppose I will." Tamanash's voice seemed filled with resignation. He began to walk away from the statue, gesturing for Marcus to follow. "I should probably tell you," he said as they walked down the corridor, "that I've come to a decision regarding Tallur."

  "Good," Marcus said. "May I ask what it is?"

  "He's a risk to us - a risk to our safety. He hasn't betrayed us yet, to the best of my knowledge, but it is inevitable that he will do so. I believe we should take preemptive action and execute him. Not only will it take care of him, but it will act as a deterrent against any other potential traitors."

  "That is a bold decision," Marcus said. "One that was not easy to come to, I am sure. When will the execution take place?"

  "As soon as you are able," Tamanash replied.

  "When I am able?" Marcus laughed, turning to Dahmus and William. "Did you hear that, men? He thinks we'll do the dirty work for him."

  Dahmus and William burst into laughter, causing a confused look to cross Tamanash's fa
ce.

  "I don't understand," Tamanash said. "Why is that funny?"

  "Tamanash," Marcus said, still smiling, "you seem to have missed the point regarding me telling you to make your decision about Tallur. You are the leader of this village. You need to make the decision, and carry through with it."

  "You mean I must execute him myself?"

  "Not necessarily," Marcus said. "You can, if you so choose, delegate the task to one of your subjects. We are soldiers, Tamanash, not civilian law enforcement. Executing Tallur would be beyond our scope of duties. It is your duty to take care of civil affairs. I realize that this village has not had a proper civil government instated, and that you are unaccustomed to dealing with the usual buerocracy which accompanies such a government, but you must become accustomed to it if you are to be the civil coordinator of the province's legionnaire training facility in addition to this village."

  "You mean..."

  "Yes," Marcus said with a laugh. "But surely this isn't a surprise, Tamanash. You had to know that we would need someone capable of organizing the civilians, and you must have known that only a civilian would qualify for such a position."

  "Well, I suppose that the thought had occurred to me -"

  "Good. Unless you have some objection to the notion, I suggest that you accept the position."

  "Of course I am willing to accept the position - it is a tremendous honour, and I thank you for it."

  "Don't thank me just yet," Marcus said with a wry smile. "I don't think you realize just how much work will be involved. The population of this village is soon going to swell tremendously, and the surrounding area will be dedicated to training soldiers. I will be leaving William here as the officer in charge of the training facilty. He will oversee construction of the necessary barracks and equipment, storage of weapons, training, and any other duty related to the military operation of this place. You will need to work closely with him; if questions of jurisdiction arise, I would like you to cede authority to him. Otherwise, you're basically on your own. Make sure the village runs smoothly, and that our training doesn't attract too much attention from the Sicambrii."

  "I understand," Tamanash said breathlessly, his trembling voice betraying his anxiety at the thought of his new duties.

  He really doesn't understand,Marcus thought. Not yet, anyway. But he will. He will serve this position, and our new army well.

  "Good," Marcus said. "Now, if I may ask for two more favours..."

  "Ask away," Tamanash said.

  "The three of us need someone to clean our weapons, clothes, and armour," Marcus said. "They can be handed off to young men; tell them it is a preemptory exercise that will serve as part of their training. The second favour is that Dahmus, Alexandra, and I will need somewhere to rest for the evening, so that we can continue well rested on our mission tomorrow."

  "Consider both favours granted," Tamanash said with a smile. "I have extra rooms here, and you are free to stay as long as you wish. I will have my cook prepare a feast for the morning, so that we can send you off not only well rested, but also well fed."

  Marcus nodded silently, his mind already racing with the prospects which faced him; he was unsure what to expect in the days to come, but knew there was only one way to fulfill his mission. The open road it is,he though. And may all the Olympians safeguard us in the days to come.

  Chapter IX

  The gates of Cologne were a welcome sight to Marcus and Alexandra as their horse-drawn cart slowly rumbled its way to the city. The past year had been a busy one for them; after leaving Alealnar, they had pushed forward through the rest of the province of Germania Inferior, setting up two more legionary training camps. When they had not been busy setting up the camps, they had spent their time alternating between recruiting new conscripts, and finding legionairres who had survived the battle at Agrippinensis. Marcus was confident that even by the most conservative guess, he had personally sent over four thousand men to the various training camps, and had convinced nearly one hundred and fifty veteran soldiers to join their cause. When he was not busy with these duties, he spent time with Alexandra; over the course of the last several months they had fallen deeply in love, and rode atop their cart hand-in-hand, not even bothering to disguise their affection for one another.

  Despite these welcome developments, not all had gone smoothly for them. Dahmus, their stalwart companion, had been killed in a Sicambrii ambush some two months ago, and a collection of new scars decorated Marcus' body - most visibly, a jagged white knot of scar tissue which ran across his forehead. Physical scars were supplemented by emotional wounds; the unmentionable atrocities which Marcus and Alexandra had been forced to witness on the road left pain which was destined to last far longer than the simple agony of torn flesh. However, despite these setbacks, Marcus still rode high in his seat, proud of the accomplishments which he and Alexandra had wrought thus far.

  As their cart rode through the city gates and into the streets of the capital city, Alexandra gazed around with trepidation.

  "Marcus," she said, "does something seem amiss to you?"

  "I can't place my finger on it, but yes," Marcus said. "The streets seem a little quiet. Perhaps it is just our nerves playing tricks on us. We haven't been inside the walls of a city this size in months, after all."

  "Perhaps," Alexandra said, though she was obviously still uneasy. "But perhaps not. Is it my imagination, or does it seem that there are virtually no Sicambrii warriors out on the street? I recall that when we left, you could barely take a step without running into one of the brutes."

  "It does seem as if there are fewer of them," Marcus said as he discretely took note of every person on the streets around them, "and those that remain seem to be slightly more docile now. Of course, that may be a simple matter of perception - it has been some time since we have been faced with warriors who are not intent on killing us where we stand. At any rate, we should hurry back to the temple. Once I am sure that you are safe inside your chambers there, I will seek out Vito and Domitian. They will be anxious to hear from us, no doubt."

  "You do not need to stow me away like a sack of old clothes," Alexandra said condescendingly. "I realize that you worry for my safety, but you do not need to watch over me every second of every day."

  "I do worry," Marcus said quietly, unfazed by Alexandra's irate attitude. "Alexandra, we are in the middle of a war here. It may not be declared yet, but blood has been spilled and will continue to be spilled until we have wiped the scourge of the Sicambrii from the face of this province. Suppose one of these warriors, or even just some Sicambrii sympathizer, should realize who you are? If I were not there to protect you - "

  "Very well," Alexandra said with a sweet smile, cutting Marcus off mid-sentence. Marcus couldn't help but feel that this was her way of brushing him off; she acted like this whenever he became a little overprotective of her. She paused for a moment, shaking her head as if to clear away her annoyance at Marcus' attitude. When she spoke again, it was in her usual sweet and considerate tone of voice. "I understand, Marcus. I really do. I just want to make sure you're not thinking of me like some sort of defenseless child that needs constant supervision."

  "Ah, beloved," Marcus said, squeezing Alexandra's hand. "You know that I do not think of you like a child; I think of you as a precious jewel, one which I would give my life to protect. Please, allow me to ensure that you arrive at the Temple safely, and that the proper accomodations are arranged."

  Alexandra smiled and nodded. Giving her hand a final squeeze, Marcus turned his full attention to directing the horses to the Temple of Mars. The trip did not take long, and Marcus and Alexandra were soon inside the Temple, speaking with the High Priest of Mars - an elderly, gentle man named Monale whose white beard and bald head did nothing to disguise the fact that he had once been a powerful warrior. His gentle demeanour was countered by an unmistakably muscled build, and rough calluses on his hands revealed that his life had not been free from hardship.

  "Ora
cle!" He exlaimed, somewhat shocked at seeing Alexandra escorted into his office. "And...I'm afraid I do not know your companion. Unless...no, it cannot be! General Ulpius? I thought you were killed in battle at Agrippinensis!"

  "I am not half as dead as my enemies would like me to be," Marcus said with a grin. "Though I confess that I have probably bled enough to kill half a dozen men since Agrippinensis. No matter how strong or resilient I have become in my old age, my skin never seems thick enough to turn away a blade. I suppose that my collection of scars makes that obvious."

  "A small price to pay," the priest said with a hearty laugh. "But I digress. Tell me, Alexandra, where have you been these past months? You simply vanished one morning, and we feared the worst. After all, it wasn't like we could have just consulted our Oracle to find out where you were."

  "Your point is well taken," Alexandra said with a giggle. "And I am terribly sorry for having left so suddenly like that, but I am afraid that I was called off on a mission of some urgency; a mission which, I must add, was most vehemently supported by our Divine Lord Himself. Who am I to ignore the will of a mighty General, and how much moreso when that General has the will of the Gods behind him?"

  "Am I to take it then," the priest said, weighing his words carefully, "that General Ulpius is the General to whom you referred?"

  "Yes."

  "And what mission was it that you were forced to undertake on such short notice that you could not even leave so much as a simple note to let me know where you were going or what you were doing?"

  "With all due respect," Marcus broke into the conversation, "I am not entirely certain we can divulge the full details of our activities. At least, we cannot do so without certain assurances of secrecy from you."

  "You have any assurances you require, General Ulpius," the Priest assured Marcus. "Trust me when I say that I have come to trust the Oracle's guidance in any and all matters, and that if she tells me she has undertaken a mission with the blessings of the Most Holy Lord Mars, then I have no doubts about the veracity of her claims. I will not divulge a word of what is said under this chamber, even under threat of torture or death. Such is the nature of my dedication both to the Lord of Battle and to this woman who is so dear to me."