by T. A. Uner
Myrrdin appeared through another doorway above the dais and walked down a spiral staircase that curled down toward the stone dais. Two Dryads followed him. They all wore long flowing white robes. After the two Dryads seated themselves on chairs, Myrrdin spoke.
“Thank you all for coming,” he said gratefully. “I would also like to thank our new friend and ally Arsis Proudfeather, who has graciously allowed us to use the Paladus for this meeting.”
Eliana watched Arsis bow his head respectfully at Myrrdin.
“Everyone here knows the dire situation we face,” Myrrdin said. “Much like the Air Paladins of the past, we too are under attack by forces that spread lies in order to eliminate us.”
“What can we do?” a young Dryad asked Myrrdin.
“We can leave this stinkpot of a city,” another Dryad called out.
“That would solve nothing,” Lorien replied, “the Romans would simply hunt us down, the same way our brethren is being attacked.”
“Lorien is right,” Myrrdin replied calmly, “we cannot run.” Eliana was drawn to his eloquent speech. His clear voice resonated throughout the room and filled her with hope for these people.
“But I have an idea that may solve our troubles. It would enable great risk, but we have little choice.”
“Let us hear it, Myrrdin,” a young Dryadess called out.
“Be patient sister,” Myrrdin said with a confident smile. “All shall be revealed. But first I have been hearing disparaging talk amongst some of us about having senator Remus’ daughter within our circle. I mean to put an end to this foolery.”
“But can she be trusted, brother Myrrdin?” Arsis Proudfeather asked.
Eliana didn’t like having these Dryads decide her fate and talk about her as if she had no say in the matter. This wasn’t like the merchant meetings she hosted with Yeshiva, where she had better control. Even after Tullus and Celestra’s surprise appearance at one meeting she had been able to hold her own, despite the merchants pleas for Tullus’ forceful measures.
“Myrrdin,” Eliana said, “May I speak?”
Myrrdin smiled, “Of course, Lady Eliana.”
She climbed atop the dais and stood before the Dryads. They looked at her surprisingly while Myrrdin backed off so that she could have the audience’s full attention.
“I understand your concerns,” Eliana began, and as she spoke she saw the fear on the faces of those watching her. It reminded her of the merchants. Perhaps her words could soothe them and make them realize she was not her father’s daughter. “My father and I share opposing views. He uses guile and cunning to gain control of those who listen to him. I can only offer you the truth that is in my heart.”
“So you say!” someone said.
“Quiet!” Arsis Proudfeather said, “I wish to hear her speak.”
“I understand what your people are going through,” Eliana said while gesticulating with her palms. “Only recently, I helped the Forum merchants oppose Camus Scorpio.”
“I thought the Leopard King was behind that!” someone else called out.
Eliana kept her composure, but there was too much emotion in here.
“You will have to trust me,” Eliana said, but the faces who stared back at her were silent.
Lorien stood. “Friends! I am one of you, and, I would never lie to my own kind. Eliana speaks the truth, and it would be in your interests to believe her. She is nothing like her father!”
Lorien then turned to look at Eliana. Again, those proud, brown eyes looked up at her, filled with trust. Eliana did not want to let them down.
“I have said all that I have came to say,” Eliana said. She descended the dais and took her seat next to Lorien. The Dryadess smiled at her. “Well spoken, Eliana.”
“Your support was appreciated.”
Myrrdin addressed the meeting. “Thank you, Lady Eliana,” he said. “Friends, we must not let fear conquer our hearts. Both I and Lorien have put our faith in Eliana, I hope that your fears have been abated.”
A flutter of murmurs passed through the collection of Dryads, but no one else showed dissent.
Myrrdin smiled. “Good. Now that we have agreed that Eliana is with us let us…”
A loud explosion rankled the air. Eliana turned around and saw dozens of legionaries flooding through the door like armored centipedes. Led by a dour-looking Centurion, they were arresting Dryads while others were struggling with others.
“We must go! Quickly!” Lorien said. Arsis Proudfeather had already grabbed Myrrdin and was ushering him up the spiral staircase while Eliana and Lorien followed. The sounds of screaming Dryads was disturbing, but there was nothing she could do to help for now. Eliana raced up the stairs, following Arsis and Myrrdin, with Lorien at her heels. After passing through the door at the top of the staircase, Arsis slammed it shut. Immediately the sounds of pounding fists began slamming the door from the other side.
“Open up! You cannot escape!” said a gruff voice.
“Follow me,” Arsis said.
“Where?” Lorien replied, “This room is closed off.”
Arsis pushed in a stone panel and a circular portal opened in the center floor of the room. “Come! Quickly!” Arsis said as the legionaries continued banging on the door. Arsis helped Myrrdin through the portal opening before Eliana and Lorien followed. Then Arsis whispered words at the door and it closed. They descended a walkway which led to a circular corridor.
“What is this place?” Eliana said.
“A secret Corridor, the third Air Legatus, Tor Gryfus, had them built hundreds of years ago, in the event the Paladus was taken by enemies. But we must hurry.”
They ran through the corridor until they came upon a door. Arsis whispered another password at the door and it opened. They descended a narrow set of stairs lit up by sconces lining the walls. At the foot of the staircase was a metal gate. Arsis opened it with a key. When they were outside the gate, Arsis closed it. Eliana looked around. They were at the foot of Paladin hill. The moon eyed them from the night sky.
“What happened?” Lorien said as she struggled to catch her breath.
Arsis looked mawkish. “It appears we’ve been betrayed.”
{III}
Decimus stared at the morning sky, a salmon hue filled with ashen clouds. In the horizon, a white sun peeked from behind a large mountain range. They were surrounded by the Swiss alps. He felt a cold gust of wind serenade his back while Publius followed him on horseback. Having left the Aemilian Way yesterday, which had taken them away from Rome, they continued their trek along a lonely road that had brought them to this rocky frontier.
“I must say, Sir,” Publius said, “I hope that our quarters will be as comfortable as the ones we had in Rome.”
Decimus laughed. “I doubt that, Publius. By the looks of things, comfort is the last thing I expect at this new post.”
They had been traveling for days, and Decimus knew his Steward longed for journey’s end. For Decimus this was a welcome respite from the dour duties of a Praetorian Centurion. Tullus was right, the Praetorians were nothing more than a political entity, conspiring like corrupt politicians. He was glad to be back in a regular legion, even if it meant less comfort. Up ahead the fort of the twenty-first legion came into view. Decimus eyed its imposing palisade; this would be his new home.
“I’m looking forward to meeting this new Legatus,” Decimus said. “I hear he is quite the warrior.”
“I’d be content meeting a warm bath, Sir,” Publius replied.
Decimus grinned. In the distance a group of legionaries approached them. Decimus slowed his horse until the legionaries were directly in front of him.
“State your name and purpose!” one of the legionaries called out.
“Not the reception I was expecting,” Decimus muttered to Publius. He turned to the Legionary who had addressed him. “Centurion Decimus Axius, formerly from the Praetorian Guard, I’ve been transferred to the 21st legion.”
He handed his orders t
o the Legionary who looked over the paperwork. “Apologies, Centurion,” the Legionary said as he handed back the paperwork to Decimus. “We must be on our guard, these are dangerous times.”
“Indeed,” Decimus said.
The legionaries led Decimus and Publius to the fortress. They approached its gates and passed under the shadow of the south walls. The gate creaked open and they passed through it while the sentries in the guard towers above eyed the two newcomers. After entering the fortress, Decimus was greeted by rows of buildings which housed the soldiers.
“Where are you taking us?” Decimus asked the Legionary.
“To your quarters, Sir.”
“I wish to see the Legatus.”
“Sir?”
“My Steward will accompany you to my quarters. Now, have someone show me to the Legatus.”
The Legionary ordered his men to show Publius to Decimus’s new quarters. “Will you be alright, Sir?” Publius asked.
“Yes, fine, now run along.”
Publius followed the legionaries off in another direction.
“Why do you wish to meet the Legatus?” the Legionary asked suspiciously.
“Do all who serve here make it a habit of asking superiors superfluous questions?”
The Legionary looked abashed. “No, of course not, Sir. I was only surprised that you didn’t wish to rest after such a long journey.”
Decimus disembarked from his horse and left it at the stable. After leaving the stable, the Legionary led Decimus to small, stone house with a sloping roof. The shuttered windows were closed.
The Legionary knocked on the door. Moments later it opened, an aquiline-nosed man with bushy eyebrows answered. “Yes? What is it?” Decimus figured this was the Legatus’ Steward.
“The new Centurion has arrived,” the Legionary said.
“I can see that, Vilius,” the aquiline-nosed man said. “Well, don’t stand there in the cold,” he told Decimus. “By all means, please, come in!”
Vilius stepped aside to allow Decimus inside the house. A large, brown greyhound rushed up to Decimus and licked his hand before Decimus stroked the animal’s back. After dismissing Vilius, the Steward closed the door and turned his attention to Decimus.
“I see Marius has taken a liking to you. So, what brings you to these desolate surroundings?”
“Orders,” Decimus replied curtly, not wishing to get into a detailed discussion with this Steward.
“I see,” the Steward said. “Wait here and make yourself comfortable.”
Decimus found a couch and planted himself onto it. The hypocaust kept the house warm while Marius the greyhound curled up on a rug and stared at Decimus intently.
The old Steward reappeared, this time he was wearing a thin mail shirt above leather Pteruges. He sat down across from Decimus and smiled.
“Is the Legatus coming?” Decimus asked.
The Steward smiled.
“Well?”
“They told me you were bright,” the Steward said. “I wonder if I have the right Centurion,” he said jokingly.
Decimus stared at the Steward disbelievingly. “Legatus Eolus Henricus?”
The Legatus nodded.
Decimus stood up and saluted the Legatus. “My apologies Sir, I thought, I…”
“You thought I was the Steward,” Eolus laughed. “For a moment I had you going there.”
Decimus remained silent but his heart nearly stopped in his chest.
“Be seated! Be seated!” Eolus said.
Decimus sat.
“Consider this your first lesson, Decimus. Do not let appearances misguide you.”
“Yes, of course, Sir. I will be sure to remember that,” Decimus replied, hoping he hadn’t offended the Legatus. He pulled out his orders. “Here are my transfer documents.”
Eolus took the orders from Decimus and studied them. “Praetorian Guard eh? I hate to mention this to you Centurion, but you won’t find lax duties here in the 21st.”
“That’s quite alright, Sir, I used to serve in the 3rd.
“Did you say 3rd legion?”
“Yes.”
“I hear there’s a Centurion serving there by the name of Tullus Acilius Ulixes. Do you know him?”
“Indeed I do,” Decimus said proudly, “I was the one who trained him after he lost his parents.”
Eolus’ eyes widened, this time it was his turn to be surprised. “Come with me Decimus.”
Eolus led Decimus out of his home. The cold air bit Decimus’ face and he wondered what the Legatus was thinking.
“Do you see these men? That’s the first cohort,” Eolus said, pointing to the faces of the legionaries inside the fortress. “A few weeks ago they lost their senior Centurion, a man widely respected within this Legion.”
Decimus eyed the dour-looking soldiers and nodded.
“So, what I’m looking for is a special breed of man, one able to whip these fellows into shape. You said you trained Tullus Acilius Ulixes; well, now you are tasked with training an entire cohort.”
“What happened to the last Centurion?” Decimus asked.
“Alas,” Eolus said sadly, “he caught a spear in his midsection. The natives here aren’t too fond of Romans.”
So that’s why I’m here, Decimus thought. They need a new senior Centurion. Well I’ve got my work cut out for me. These soldiers look about as happy as a cat without a mouse to chase.
Decimus said, “I’ll do my best Sir. I can understand the pain these men might be experiencing after losing a beloved officer.”
Eolus slapped Decimus on the back. “I know you’ll do your best, Decimus.”
The next day Decimus ordered his new Optio, a man named Nilox, to gather the men. It was Decimus’ hope that a bold speech would inspire the men, and introduce him as a brave leader. Nilox seemed unresponsive to Decimus’ wishes and sluggishly obeyed his commands.
“The previous Centurion always let the men enjoy breakfast before a speech, Sir,” Nilox said as he walked beside Decimus. The men had gathered at the designated spot, all four-hundred and eighty of them. Decimus recognized them by their dour faces.
“Soldiers of the first cohort,” Decimus began, “as you have undoubtedly heard, I am to be your new senior Centurion. I know it must be difficult, serving under a new commander, but rest assured after we get used to one another, we’ll all get along fine.”
“What time is breakfast?” yelled one of the Legionaries.
Decimus ignored the outburst. “The first thing that we’ll focus on is conditioning. When I served in the 3rd that was one of our main–”
“I’m hungry!” another Legionary complained.
Nilox walked up to Decimus. “It’s like I said, Sir, the men always eat before assembly.”
“It is I who gives the orders here, Nilox,” Decimus said.
“Yes, but that’s not how the previous Centurion ran this cohort.”
“I am not concerned with how the previous Centurion ran this outfit. All I ask is that you follow your orders!”
Nilox nodded. Decimus read the dissent in his Optio’s eyes but this could not be helped. These were his charges now.
“Prepare the men to march!” Decimus ordered.
“Very well,” Nilox said, before he passed down Decimus’ orders to the men.
“Any particular destination?” Nilox asked.
“Let us make this simple. Around the fort, twenty laps.”
Nilox nodded. “Very well, Sir.”
After what seemed like ages, the men finished their twenty laps. They gathered again in the assembly yard. Some of their faces were red with exhaustion, others grumbled. Decimus wasn’t happy with the hand that the gods had dealt him. But they were his men now. He would make them a better unit.
“Imagine having to march with full equipment and armor on your backs,” Decimus said. “Conditioning is the most important aspect of soldiering.”
“Can we eat now?” one soldier asked.
Decimus nodded. “
Yes, dismissed!”
The men dispersed and headed for their tents to eat.
“I don’t think they like you, Centurion,” Nilox said.
“They don’t have to like me,” Decimus replied sternly, “only obey me.”
{IV}
Caligula loved everything about parties: the food, guests, the smells and sounds. He loved looking at the women dressed in their beautiful gowns, and secretly fantasized about having sex with them all. The dining hall had been prepared to host all of his friends and dignitaries. He was a god after all. Since recovering from his sickness, his destiny lay stretched out before him like an open road. The images in his dreams guided his every move. His godlike conscious had been sending him messages. One messenger, named Afaa, had been giving him advice about the Dryads, how they were intent on taking over his empire. He would not allow that to happen. The same way he had prevented Tiberius from taking away his empire from him.
Drusilla arrived. With her was her new husband, his friend Marcus Aemilius Lepidus. She looked happy. At least that was the impression she gave off. Caligula hoped she was happy. What good brother wouldn’t?
“Drusilla, dear you look absolutely ravishing.”
Drusilla smiled. “Thank you, brother.”
Cassius Chaerea appeared wearing his Praetorian tunic. “Your Godship,” he asked Caligula in his squeaky voice, “the Senate wishes to speak with you.”
“It can wait,” Caligula said curtly. “Don’t they know I am having a party in my palace? And what the fuck is wrong with your voice?” He laughed. “Are you an eunuch?” Caligula asked in a squeaky tone, imitating his new Prefect’s voice. Around him, Caligula’s entourage roared with impudent laughter.
