Marching With Caesar: Conquest of Gaul

by R. W. Peake

  He grinned at me, and replied cheerfully, “Absolutely! Excuse us ladies, we need to go catch up with some old friends.”

  As he turned to join me, I saw the looks of alarm on the faces of the women we were talking to and I thought to placate them. “Don’t worry, ladies. They’re old friends of ours. We just want to catch up.”

  “Don’t take me for an idiot Titus Pullus,” sniffed the meat pie vendor, “I know exactly what kind of ‘friends’ you are with those two, though I can’t say that if you killed them anyone here would shed a tear. I just don’t need our place of business being torn to shreds, that’s all.”

  Giving her a look of complete innocence, I made my eyes as wide as I could, not fooling her a bit. Walking casually over to the group, none of them seemed to know exactly what to do, choosing to look to Marcus and Aulus for an indication. For their part, we had stared across our shield into the eyes of our enemy enough to read exactly what was going through their minds, and it was not that different than what we had seen in the faces of Lusitani and Gallaeci. Their instinct was screaming at them to make a hasty retreat, while their pride was cementing their feet in place, suiting us just fine.

  “Salve ladies,” Vibius called out, causing both Marcus and Aulus to flush with anger and embarrassment, yet both of them wisely bit back a retort.

  Instead, Marcus tried to sound pleasant as he responded. “Salve Pullus and Domitius. It’s good to see you back safe and sound. We’ve heard of the licking you applied to those savages up north. I’ll bet you both saw plenty of action, neh?”

  I felt myself smiling; I can guess that it was not very convincing. “You could say that,” I replied coolly. “But at least we faced real men. Better than anyone we’ve beaten before.”

  I knew how insulting this was, yet somewhere along the short distance walking over to them, I went from wanting to mildly humiliate them to deciding to provoke them enough to give me an excuse to kill them. All of them if I could find enough of a reason for it.

  I saw the look of surprise flit across Vibius’ face as well, but he instantly quashed it and like the good friend that he was, waded in by my side. “Yes, Marcus. Titus is telling the truth. The men we killed make everyone we ever faced before that look like their mother’s afterbirth.”

  Both Marcus and Aulus went white with rage and I saw Aulus’ hand move to his belt. Underneath his tunic, concealed from sight, I could make out the outline of a dagger of some sort, and the smile on my face widened as I realized that I might be getting my wish. Vibius continued as I watched and waited. “So what have you……boys been up to since we’ve been gone? Been beating up on cripples?”

  Finally, Marcus could take no more, though as I look back, I truly wonder if he realized just how much danger he was in the instant he uttered his next words. “Why don’t you ask Juno what I’ve been up to?” he shot back. “She and I have gotten to be very…..close.”

  I did not even see it happen; as I’ve said before, Vibius was always much quicker than I was, but even for him this was the fastest I had ever seen anyone move. Before I could blink, Marcus was standing rooted to the ground, eyes open in shock as the point of Vibius’ dagger pushed into the soft area just at the base of Marcus’ jaw where it met the throat. Vibius pushed hard enough that a trickle of blood began to flow down Marcus’ throat, and despite himself, I heard Marcus whimper in fear. If it had ended there, it would have been enough to keep Marcus and Aulus from misbehaving, at least for the whole time we were on leave, but then Aulus had to do something stupid. Seeing his hand closing on the hilt of his dagger, while I was and never would be as quick as Vibius, I was still very fast, so before he had gotten his blade halfway out of his scabbard, I pulled my sword to make a perfect thrust, blade parallel to the ground and aimed at more or less the same spot where Vibius had pinned Marcus, except I did not stop at his throat. The point exited the back of Aulus’ skull, striking the side of the building where they were standing, burying itself an inch or two deep into the wood. That mark would remain there for the next several years before the building was torn down and replaced, the blood staining the wood around it, reminding me of that day every time I came home. As my blade struck, there was a collective gasp and a couple of the toadies let out a shout, while Marcus’ whimpering became a moan of fear, and the air filled with the smell of fresh urine as he lost control of his bladder. Aulus’ eyes remained open, bulging out as they stared at me while I watched his animus flee his body, a sight I had seen happen so many times before in the previous months, and his dagger clattered to the ground, making the loudest sound to this point. He remained standing only because I supported him on the end of my blade, and I reveled in the feeling of strength as I maintained my form, my arm out and parallel to the ground, with Aulus more or less dangling from my sword. After a moment, I quickly withdrew my blade and he collapsed in a heap, while I became aware of the heavy silence of the crowd around us, yet I refused to act concerned. Somehow I knew our future rested on how we conducted ourselves in the next few moments; if we behaved like we had done something wrong, then the chances were high that we would have trouble. However, if we acted like we had done nothing more than defend ourselves, and in a sense we had done just that, then I was sure all would be well. Acting deliberately, I wiped my blade off on Aulus’ tunic, my nose wrinkling at the smell as his body lost control of its functions and his bowels emptied. Any shock Vibius felt at what I did he instantly covered up, seemingly realizing the same thing, that this was all going to hinge on the next few moments.

  Saying loudly enough for everyone to hear as I bent down to pick up Aulus’ dagger, I waved it in the air, “Your friend should have been more careful who he tried to kill, Marcus.”

  Helping our cause was the stark terror, not only on Marcus’ part, but on his half-dozen followers, none of whom seemed inclined to point out that we had started the argument. Behind us, we could hear the beginning of talk, followed by the sounds of feet running towards us. I turned, quickly but with deliberation, sheathing my sword while holding onto Aulus’ dagger, in time to see three men of the city watch come trotting up, stopping when they saw two Legionaries standing in front of a body. The oldest one, a man of about 40 with a long white scar down the side of his face, approached us, hand on the hilt of his own sword while taking pains to show that he was not inclined to pull it.

  “What happened here, Legionary Pullus?”

  I remembered his name was Cornuficius and that he had been a member of Pompey’s Legions that retired in this area, deciding farming was not to his liking and taking the job as commander of the city watch. We had spoken a few times, but I held no opinion of him one way or another, and he seemed to be of a like mind.

  Pointing down to Aulus, I responded calmly, “This man was stupid enough to try pulling a dagger on me. I killed him before he could use it.”

  Eyes narrowing, he stared at Aulus’ body then looked me in the eye, obviously sensing that there was more to the story, but I was not willing to say anything more until I was asked. By this time Vibius had dropped his arm, although he still held his dagger in his hands, never taking his eyes off of Marcus, who was just now seeming to come out of his trance. I realized that for all their bluster and swaggering, neither Marcus nor his gang, and certainly not dead Aulus, possessed any experience in this kind of deadly action, and in fact this was probably the first time they ever faced a sudden death or seen one of their own die violently.

  Turning his attention to Vibius, Cornuficius asked him quietly, “And what’s your part in this Domitius?”

  Vibius shrugged, though he still did not take his eyes off of Marcus. Nodding at Marcus, Vibius replied, “This man insulted my betrothed. I took exception to it, and as we were talking, it’s like Titus said. Aulus decided to pull his dagger. Titus was quicker.”

  His voice was flat, without emotion, a simple recitation of facts given in the manner in which we were trained; no flourishes, no commentary, just a plain and simple action report
. It was a method of communicating with which Cornuficius was clearly familiar and he nodded as if it confirmed his suspicions. I thought we were in the clear, when finally Marcus came out of his trance.

  “That’s a lie! I said no such things. This one,” he gestured at Vibius, “just went crazy all of a sudden, right in the middle of a nice conversation. We were catching up on old times, and I was congratulating both of them on the job they did to those rebels up north, when out of nowhere he tried to stab me!”

  Seeing Vibius’ jaw tighten, I threw up a hasty prayer that he would not lose his temper. Despite his obvious anger, his voice was calm as he retorted, “If I had wanted to stab you citizen, you'd be dead.”

  Cornuficius nodded. “That’s true enough Galba.” It was not until that moment that I realized that I had known this boy Marcus, for I could have never have thought of him as a man, for something like seven years yet never knew his last name. “If Domitius wished it, you'd be as dead as your friend there.”

  Ultimately, Marcus and Aulus’ reputation for trouble was the clinching argument that this was not the cold-blooded murder that Marcus claimed it to be. Compounding his problem was the reluctance of his followers to voice support for his side of the story. I have no doubt that there was a part of each of them secretly glad to see them both get their comeuppance in some way; bullies like that do not lead through personal inspiration, they rule through fear, so I was sure that each of the minions had run afoul of either or both of them at some point. For his part, Marcus disappeared a couple of days later, never to be seen again. And for our part, let us just say that although the townsfolk were friendly enough, they gave us a wide berth.

  Leaving Vibius behind in town, I left with a promise that we would get back together in a couple of days when we were going to go see Cyclops and my sister. For perhaps the thousandth time in my life, I found myself plodding down the road towards my farm, yet despite the fact that I was now a man wearing the uniform of one of Rome’s Legions, I found my heart was still in my throat. In many ways it was still like being a ten year old boy who lost the bag of nails he had been sent to fetch having to go home to face the consequences. Angrily, I shook my head, chastising myself for such silly feelings. I was now over six feet tall, and had added more than ten pounds of muscle just in the few months I was away. The sun had turned my skin even darker brown than it was the day I left, while my hands and feet were encased in calluses so thick they were almost like iron plate. My chest glittered with decorations I had earned and in the purse from my belt dangled more gold in coin and jewelry than I had ever seen in my life. The sword on my hip had seen the death of many men, not to mention women and children, a fact that I preferred not to think of then or to this day. My helmet was polished to a high sheen, as was my armor, oiled and gleaming in perfect repair, with all the damaged or lost links replaced. The horsehair plume was freshly cleaned and re-dyed a perfect shade of black and I was wearing my best tunic. And yet, for all that, I was still a young boy with a knot in my stomach going home to an uncertain fate.

  Seeing Phocas before he saw me, I realized with a start that he was old. The moment the thought crossed my mind, I chided myself. I had only been gone for a few months; there was no way that he had aged that much in such a short time. Of course, that meant that he was old when I left, except that I had not seen it until this moment. When I say he was old, he was all of 45 or 46, but when you are a teenager that is truly ancient, and I have no doubt that my perception was also due to the fact that I had been surrounded by mostly young men for the last months; even the Pilus Prior, who I was sure was of a similar age to Phocas, was only 28 years old. Nevertheless, I stopped for a moment to watch him, feeling a tightness in my chest as the unbidden thought came that, slave or not, I wished with all my heart that Phocas were my father, that desire quickly followed by the prickling of tears welling in my eyes. Horrified, I blinked them back, telling myself savagely that I would not shame myself like this. As I regained my composure, Phocas apparently sensed that someone was watching, straightening up and turning to peer at me. He frowned when he saw the Legionary standing in the road, and I could clearly see a look of worry flit across his face, no doubt wondering what troubles could have brought such a man to this farm. This brought a smile to my face, relishing the idea that I had changed so much that I was not recognized. Finally, the frown slipped from his face as recognition of who stood before him dawned, yet even then, he seemed unwilling to trust his eyes.

  Taking a step forward, he asked tentatively, “Titus?”

  “Who else would be coming to see you, you silly man?”

  With that, he ran across the yard to greet me with a proper hug before turning to call to Gaia. She was working in the kitchen as usual, her hands red and raw from her work, and like I had with Phocas, I caught myself worrying at how tired and careworn she looked. Still, she was instantly alongside Phocas, pulling my head down to smother me with kisses, which I made a great show of protesting but secretly loved.

  It was hard for her to find a spot on my cheek because of my helmet and finally she said crossly, “Take that thing off Titus so I can give you a proper kiss.”

  My smile grew broader as I pulled it off, automatically placing it under my left arm as I was trained, while the two of them continued to fuss over me.

  “By the gods boy, you look like Mars himself.” Phocas grasped me by the arm, looking me up and down with such pride that once again I felt the threat of burning tears.

  Instead I forced a laugh as I shot back, “I’m better looking than Mars.”

  His eyes turned to my phalarae and despite having no real experience of such things, he knew instantly they meant something special. Indicating them, he looked at me with a questioning gaze, and I nodded proudly. “I won those for bravery, during an engagement up north.”

  If I was expecting a reaction, it certainly was not the one that I got from Gaia, whose smile immediately disappeared at my words. “Bravery? Bravery? What kind of men’s nonsense is that? You mean you did something foolish, didn’t you?”

  I opened my mouth to protest, but Phocas shook his head with a wry smile. “Don’t try to argue Titus. That's one battle you won't win.”

  Almost as quickly, her irritation vanished as her examination of me moved her eyes to the scar down my arm, which was still pink and angry. She let out a cry as she grabbed it, running her hands along the length of the cut. “Titus! What have they done to you? How did this happen?”

  Her eyes filled with tears, and now I could not help myself as my vision clouded. I was home with people who loved and cared for me, and there are few finer feelings in the world.

  I postponed meeting Lucius for as long as I could, letting him sleep his afternoon drunk off while Phocas, Gaia and I caught up. From the two of them I learned that Valeria was expecting a child and experienced a strange thrill at the idea that I would be an uncle, something which, to that point at least, had never once crossed my mind. Livia had not become pregnant yet, but was by their account ecstatically happy with her husband. Lost on none of us was that both of my sisters’ sense of joy was in no small measure due to their being away from this place but we did not speak of that. Instead, I told them of the adventures I had been having, sanitizing it for both of them, deciding that telling them everything would only make them worry even more. As I talked, I ate some of Gaia’s porridge and the memories of happy times came wafting up to me with the scent of her cooking. I gave them the gifts I had chosen for them, along with a fairly large sum of money, telling them quietly to put that someplace where Lucius would never find it. And it was then that I told them my plans concerning them.

  “I think that, in a couple more years, I'll have saved enough to buy you your freedom from Lucius.” Their look of stunned surprise and happiness made me feel ten feet tall, yet almost immediately it was replaced by one of such extreme sadness on the face of Phocas that I wondered if I had made a serious blunder.

  “Titus, there are no words
to thank you for what you're trying to do, but your father will never agree to this.”

  “Why?” I asked indignantly, “I'll give him more than enough money to buy two slaves to replace each of you.” When you are young, the world is so simple and problems so easy to solve. Still, Phocas shook his head sadly. “You could give him money to buy ten slaves for each of us Titus, and it wouldn't matter.”

  Looking to Gaia for support in arguing with Phocas, I saw in her eyes the same sad emptiness. “He’s right, my darling boy. It has nothing to do with the money.”

  “Then what does it have to do with then?” I demanded, although a voice inside me told me that I already knew the answer.

  “It has to do with the idea that it’s something that you desperately want. You know your father has no love for you, Titus. What you don’t know is that his hatred has grown in leaps and bounds since you left. There isn't a day that goes by that he doesn't curse your name.”

  I was stunned, although I do not know why, unless it was because I still entertained some childish fantasy of winning my father’s affections by great deeds. The knowledge that his hate for me had only grown in my absence smothered the last spark of hope I nurtured that somehow things could be made right between us, and I felt the coldness return to my heart, seeing in the reflection of Phocas and Gaia’s gaze that it was clear to see in my expression.