by T. A. Uner
“Can you help us Claudius?”
“I don’t see how I can, dear child.”
“This is pointless,” Arsis quipped. “We should leave before his wife arrives.”
Claudius laughed. “I assure you, Messalina is out being entertaining somewhere, or probably laying about with one of her male friends, you’re perfectly safe here.”
“We need to get inside Caligula’s court,” Eliana said.
Everyone in the room stared at Eliana.
They probably think I’m mad.
“This is your plan?” Arsis said.
Eliana didn’t reply. Claudius laughed again. “He’s quite touchy for a Steward.”
Arsis Proudfeather looked at Claudius angrily. Lorien gave him a stern look and he took a seat on a couch.
“Your plan may work, Lady Eliana, but if I was to help, I would need more information before committing myself.”
Eliana twisted a loose strand of hair of her hair nervously. Then, she took a deep breath and exhaled. “If we gained access to Caligula’s court, we may be able to learn more of his plans against the Dryads.”
Claudius considered her words before nodding. “It’s a good idea, but if you were caught, there’s no telling what my nephew would do to you Lady Eliana.”
“And me,” Lorien said, “I’m coming with Eliana.”
Arsis shook his head and stood. “This is more than foolery, its madness.”
“But there is a good chance you would be discovered, Lady Eliana,” Claudius said, his bloated face filled with apprehension.
Eliana knew the risks. “I know. That is why Lorien and I will disguise ourselves.”
“I-I,” Claudius stuttered, “p-p-perhaps, it c-c-could work.” He stopped and took a seat.
“Are you alright?” Eliana said as she placed her hand on Claudius’ shoulder.
Claudius smiled. “I’m fine, child.” he said. “I suffer from a mild speech impediment and sometimes it plagues me when I get upset. Let us move into my study, we’ll have more privacy there.”
Inside the study, Claudius offered them wine, only Arsis accepted. He drank three large cups before dozing off.
Claudius said, “Why is your Steward wearing a sword?”
“It’s a long story,” Eliana replied. “One we will share with you someday.
Claudius seated himself behind his desk across from Eliana and Lorien. Now that Arsis was asleep, Eliana could focus on learning more from Claudius without being interrupted.
“I have become good friends with the new Praetorian Prefect, Cassius Chaerea,” Claudius began before they heard the front door burst open. Eliana’s heart nearly stopped in her chest. She looked at Lorien. Her beautiful brown eyes were filled with fear. The loud noise had awoken Arsis Proudfeather as well. His drew his sword.
“Claudius! Where are you?” It was a woman’s voice.
“Discordia take me,” Claudius said, “it’s Messalina.” he looked flustered. Eliana fought down a spurt of panic that rose up her chest and settled in her throat. She felt like someone was forcing an apple down her throat.
“I have returned, husband!” Messalina said.
“If we’re discovered, it’s crucifixion for us all,” Arsis Proudfeather said.
“No!” Eliana said. “There will be no killing.”
Arsis Proudfeather grunted before sheathing his sword. He slid back onto the couch.
Messalina stumbled into the room. Her hair in disarray and her white gown rippled with wrinkles. She wore an armlet inlaid with expensive jewels. “Claudius darling you didn’t tell me you were hosting guests?” Messalina eyed Eliana and Lorien. Arsis Proudfeather concealed in the shadows, behind her. Part of his face emerged from the darkness and Eliana hoped he wouldn’t attempt any rash behavior.
“You must introduce your friends to me, Claudius.”
Eliana could smell the wine on Messalina. Mixed with perfume and sweat, it was a curious odor that quickly filled the room.
“Ah, yes!” Claudius said. Eliana felt sorry for him. He was in a worse position then they were.
Messalina looked at Eliana and smiled.
Will she recognize me? Behind Messalina,Eliana saw Arsis fingering his sword’s hilt. Don’t try anything foolish, Arsis.
Messalina smiled politely at Eliana before turning toward Lorien.
“Who is this?”
“I am called Lorien, Lady Messalina.”
“Interesting name.”
Messalina turned around and noticed Arsis sitting in the shadows. “And who might this be?”
“That’s Coleus, our Steward,” Eliana said.
Messalina let out a burst of laughter. “Clever girls, traveling with an armed Steward.” She turned toward Claudius and tripped over her own foot. Claudius caught her, and pulled her up. “I think I am a bit sick, Claudius dear, help me to my room.”
Claudius nodded obediently before Messalina passed out in his arms.
“We shall speak more of Cassius Chaerea,” Claudius whispered. “I think I know how to get you two into the palace.”
Eliana nodded. “If you wish to reach us we can be found in the Lupercal cave.”
“I will send my most trusted messenger there to inform you of my plan on how to sneak you into the palace. Now, please excuse me, my dears. I must do my duty as a husband.”
Eliana nodded before Claudius carried the drunken Messalina out of the room.
{III}
The cold air stung Decimus’ face like a pine needles. Around him his men grumbled. Decimus felt as if he’d been thrown into a hornets’ nest. His cohorts’ conditioning was well below Roman standards. The 3rd Legion would’ve never succumbed to such a low.
“This march is useless, Centurion,” Nilox said. “The men haven’t even eaten yet.”
“We’ve been through this discussion before,” Decimus replied. “Once their conditioning is improved, they can eat their breakfast before marches, until then, shut your gob.”
Nilox mumbled to himself. Decimus could care less what his Optio thought. He remembered when he was once an Optio. When he reported to Tullus, he had shown more respect. Then again he wasn’t an arsehole like Nilox.
One of the men pointed to the distance. “Look!” he said. They stopped momentarily.
“Keep moving! Keep moving!” Decimus said. “Haven’t you men seen a Paladin outpost before?”
They passed a large crag where the remnants of an old wooden fort sat nestled within it. Two of the watchtowers still stood, but the palisade was in a state of disrepair and had old scorch marks across them. A moldy sign, labeled, “Outpost XXIV,” hung from one of the wooden gate doors.
“The Paladins were myths,” Nilox said, “nothing more.”
Decimus turned to face his Optio while the men resumed their march.
Not only is he an arsehole but an ignorant one as well.
“Now that is where you’re wrong, Nilox. They existed, and used their powers to protect life on Earth.” He pointed to the outpost. “Besides, how do you explain, that?”
“Our previous Centurion didn’t believe in such foolery,” Nilox said. “He was more interested in the well-being of his men.”
I suppose that’s why their conditioning is so poor, Decimus thought.
Even when Nilox spoke to him his tone was laced with insolence. If this was the old 3rd , Decimus would’ve already knocked this fool down and broken a few of his teeth. Then he would’ve found a whore and forgotten the whole incident. But he wouldn’t be baited by Nilox’s challenge, that’s not what Tullus would’ve done.
Around them snow covered the frozen ground while they continued their trek. ToDecimus’ relief the grumbling had ceased. Perhaps he was getting through to them.
“I smell something,” Nilox said.
“What do you smell?” Decimus said.
“It’s coming from over there.” Nilox pointed to a dense patch of evergreens.
“That’s quite a nose you’ve got there, Nilox.”<
br />
Nilox smiled at Decimus. Good. I’ve appealed to his vanity. Maybe now he’ll be more respectful to me. Then again, maybe not.
“I’ll take a few of the men and investigate,” Decimus said.
“Sir?”
“You heard me, Optio.”
“I want to go too…I smelled it.”
“Yes,” Decimus said irritably, “but I am in command here.”
Nilox remained behind with the rest of the cohort. Decimus took ten men and approached the trees. Above them a raven cawed in a colorless sky. They passed the frozen carcass of a deer. When they were within the trees, Decimus stopped. He felt a sense of dread wash over him.
“Is there a problem, Sir?” one of his men asked.
“I don’t know, Dormo,” Decimus replied, referring to the soldier by first name.
“I’ve scouted this area before, Sir,” Dormo said. “Permission to go ahead and survey the
area?”
Decimus liked Dormo, he was one of the few men who had quickly embraced his leadership.
I should make Dormo my Optio.
“Go. See what you can find.”
Dormo saluted Decimus and left his spear and shield behind before disappearing into the forest.
“What do we do now, Sir?” one of the other men asked.
“We wait.”
A few moments passed and Dormo returned. He saluted Decimus.
“Report, Dormo.”
“Twenty, maybe thirty enemies, Sir. Most likely Germans.”
“I see.”
They returned to the cohort. Nilox looked at Decimus worriedly. “What did you find?”
“Germans,” Decimus replied.
“Then it’s true,” Nilox said. “They are massing for an attack.
“There were only twenty, perhaps thirty,” Dormo added. “Hardly an invasion force.”
“Mind your tone when you address me, Dormo,” Nilox said. “I am your superior officer.”
You mean superior arsehole, Decimus thought. “Dormo is right. It’s probably a scouting party. We should head back to the fortress and report our findings to the Legatus.”
“If I were you,” Nilox began, “I would attack, wipe them out. Maybe send two or three back scurrying to their friends so they know not to infringe on our territory.”
Decimus kept his composure. No wonder his predecessor had caught a spear. Heeding Nilox’s advice was like asking a fox to guard a chicken pen.
“Get back in formation!” Decimus said. “We’re heading back to the fort.”
Nilox fumed but obeyed. As they trekked back to the fortress, the wind clawed their backs.
“So, you discovered a group of Germans, Centurion Decimus?” Eolus threaded his fingers atop his desk, while underneath it, his greyhound, Marius, chewed on an old sandal. “What do you think they’re up to?”
Decimus said, “It could be a scouting party, Sir. They could be watching us, looking for weakness.”
Eolus closed his eyes and exhaled. His bushy white eyebrows throbbed up and down on his brow. It almost made Decimus laugh.
“Send Dormo and a few of our best scouts to survey the area again,” Eolus said. “This time have them penetrate deeper into German territory.”
“What will this accomplish?” Nilox said. “It’s obvious the Germans are massing for an invasion. We should strike now, to guarantee we’ll get the first strike.”
“Perhaps,” Eolus replied calmly. He scratched his cheek. “You are dismissed, Nilox.”
Nilox saluted Eolus and left the office. Eolus smiled at Decimus and invited him to take a seat. “He’s quite impulsive, isn’t he?”
“An insolent fool,” Decimus replied. “How he became Optio amazes me.”
“Nilox is a capable officer, but he is young and impatient. He wants to be a senior Centurion and covets your position. After all, he did expect to be promoted after your predecessor was killed.”
Decimus smiled. “With respect, Legatus, Nilox must first learn to be a capable Optio. Then, when he has matured, perhaps he could…” Decimus paused for a moment. Memories flooded his thoughts, days long gone.
“Decimus?”
“I was thinking about myself when I was his age. I was never that impulsive. Then again, it took me longer to become a Centurion. I chose the long path.”
“Tullus Acilius Ulixes would be proud,” Eolus said.
“I would hope so.”
Even though I was his teacher he taught me much as well.
“Have you spoken with him lately?” Eolus asked.
“Tullus?” Decimus scratched his head. “He left the Praetorian Guard long before I was transferred here.”
“I see.” Eolus stood up from behind his desk. He walked over toward a large table where maps of the surrounding area were laid out. “Decimus,” he said, “come over here, there is something I wish to show you.”
Decimus looked over the maps. “What is it you wish to show me, Legatus?”
Eolus pointed to different icons indicating various German tribes that surrounded them. “I fear young Nilox could be correct, we could be ripe for an invasion if we don’t take action. The Hermunduri and Varisti are two of the most powerful German tribes in this region.”
Decimus’ lips tightened. “I would hate to start a war, Legatus.”
Eolus grimaced. “Yes, starting a war is easy. Stopping one is another matter.”
“Whatever action you choose Legatus, you shall have my support.”
Eolus nodded. “I am glad you are here, Decimus. I needed a senior Centurion who would practice caution before action. All these brash, younger Centurions, they want to prove themselves in battle. They look upon me as if I am some old fool, not remembering that I once possessed their wild blood when I was younger.”
“These young ones,” Decimus began, “are so eager to rush off and die. They sometimes forget the military’s true purpose, not for starting wars but for preventing them.”
“Aye, let us hope their eagerness doesn’t get us all killed.”
The mess hall was devoid of life except for a few soldiers. Decimus watched Publius and the kitchen staff clean the hall. He was glad his Steward had been well-received here. Publius’s fine-cooking had become popular with the men and meal times were now a much anticipated event.
Decimus slurped his gruel. It tasted good and reminded him of the excellent meals he enjoyed as a Praetorian. Publius strolled over toward him.
“How is life in the 21st treating you, Sir?”
Decimus smiled. The old Steward had a way of making him feel at ease. Publius was wise, and his eloquence and gait reminded Decimus of a patrician nobleman.
“Apart from the lack of women and freezing temperatures, I’d say it’s quite lovely.
Publius guffawed. “I’d say you were doing well.”
Hardly. Every night I want to stick my cock inside some slattern’s warm box, but the only thing to hump here are mountains goats and frozen rocks.
“As much as I hate to admit it, Publius, I believe my whoring days are behind me.”
“The brothels are mourning as we speak, Sir.”
The door to the mess hall banged open. Nilox staggered in. Decimus noticed the Optio had a coarse expression on his face, he walked by Decimus, who smelled alcohol on Nilox.
Nilox stopped.
“Well, well, well!” he said. “Here we have the magnificent Decimus Axius and his faithful Steward. I think I shall salute you, Sir!” Nilox bowed mockingly at Decimus.
“Do you have something to say to me?” Decimus asked.
Nilox laughed. It was an ungodly laugh, something reserved for a cruel spectator who enjoyed watching others die. “Indeed I do, Sir!”
The other soldiers in the mess hall stared at Nilox. Decimus didn’t know if it was out of curiosity or mirth. “Then say it, and bugger off to your pallet before I put you on report!”
Nilox laughed again. “Very well. Then let me start by saying I don’t like you, Sir!�
� he said. The soldiers looked at Nilox abashedly before they turned back to their conversation.
“Get out of here, Nilox!” Publius said. “You’re way out of line!”
“It’s alright,” Decimus said, “let this drunken fool vent his stupidity.”
“That’s right, Steward, let me talk. Let me tell your master what a cowardly dog I think he is.” In the background the soldiers started murmuring amongst themselves nervously.
“You’ve said enough, Nilox.” Decimus stood. “Now leave before I put you in the stockade.”
Nilox staggered toward Decimus. He looked as if he would stumble and fall face-down. Instead he unleashed his fist. It caught him off guard and connected with his chin. Decimus’ cheek felt like a wasp had stung it. He rubbed it and spat, “So be it, insolent fuck.”
The soldiers stood up from their meal to make room for the conflict.
He launched himself at Nilox who slammed his left fist into Decimus’ midsection. The punch knocked the air out of Decimus and he fell on his back. Nilox lifted his boot and tried to bring it down on Decimus’ face. Decimus grabbed Nilox’s ankle and twisted it hard. Nilox grunted like a stuck boar and struggled to free his foot from Decimus’ grip.
This shitworm has the Vigor of five grown men, Decimus thought before he released his grip.
Nilox staggered backwards. Decimus rose to his feet and tackled Nilox. He landed on top and lifted his fist before bringing in down on Nilox’s jaw. Two large teeth broke from Nilox’s mouth. When Decimus retracted his fist from the Optio’s mouth, he felt a sting on his knuckles. The teeth had cut a gash on his knuckles, blood drops stained the floor.
The soldiers grabbed Decimus and pulled him away from Nilox, while Publius restrained Nilox.
After they had settled down from the fight, one of the soldiers brought the medicus into the mess hall and he tended to both men. He asked no questions as to how the wounds were inflicted and instead tended to each man separately.
The door banged open. A Centurion from the second cohort, a man named Aurelius Celsus, barged into the room. His face a look of anguish and surprise. “Sir!” he called out to Decimus after saluting him. “The Legatus requests you in his office immediately!”
