by R. W. Peake
I resolved to head things off, and started by saying, “First I'd like to apologize for the mediocre quality of the refreshments. Unfortunately, this was the best I could procure.” My heart sank a bit, seeing the patent doubt on some of the faces, but I pressed on. “I’ve been given orders by Caesar. We’re to prepare to move by ship. We embark day after tomorrow.”
“Where to?” This was posed by Annius, and it was an innocent enough question, but I could not help hesitating, unfortunately instantly alerting the men, and I cursed myself.
“My orders are very specific about that. I can't say.”
If any of them had only been paying partial attention, this served to bring them around, and almost to a man, they straightened up on their stools, instantly alert. As I would learn, it was no surprise that Cornuficius raised his hand, yet that was a lesson for later. Nodding for him to speak, his seemingly blank eyes regarded me for a long moment before he did so, very slowly.
“And why’s that, Primus Pilus? Why do you suppose Caesar has chosen to keep that from us?”
I opened my mouth to answer, but thank the gods I stopped myself, because I might have made things even worse. The answer, to me at least, was obvious; the loyalty of the 6th was still very much an open question. They had been Pompey’s men, enlisted by Pompey, and most importantly paid by Pompey. If they were alerted that we were going after Pompey himself, it was very much a wager as to whether or not they would have somehow alerted Pompey that we were coming, and I know which way I would have bet. However, to say that openly would cast doubt on their honor, and there are few things that Legionaries are touchier about than their honor, even when there is good reason to question it.
Finally, I just shrugged. “I have no idea, Cornuficius.”
Even as I said it, I realized how weak it sounded. Nobody answered immediately, and it was during this silence, watching the men closely, that I first saw that Cornuficius held sway, and not just over the 10th Cohort either.
He sat, sipping his wine, eyes staring off at something none of us could see. Setting the cup down, he said calmly, “We must be going after Pompey.”
My heart began thudding heavily, and I could hear the indrawn breath of the men, having a flash of insight that either Cornuficius was smarter than he appeared, or the others were not very smart; only time would bear that out. Of course, we were going after Pompey! What else would we be doing? Suddenly the quiet dissolved, the men speaking at once, and I held my hand up for silence. To their credit, they obeyed instantly, although I think it had more to do with wanting to hear my response than out of any respect.
“Cornuficius, that's speculation on your part, but it’s only speculation.”
He regarded me blandly, scratching an elbow. “Do you know where we’re going, Primus Pilus?”
I had just been outmaneuvered, and I knew it. If I chose, I could simply lie, saying I had no idea, but that posed its own problems. First, it meant that I was not fully trusted by Caesar either, and part of my hold over the men at this point came from their view that I was favored by Caesar, so that any disobedience of me meant drawing his wrath as well as mine. Second, if I chose to lie, and the lie was discovered at some point later on, then whatever trust I had built by that point would blow away like sand in the wind.
I took a deep breath. “Yes, I know where we’re going.”
Now they regarded me with close to open hostility, and Cornuficius pressed his advantage. “So neither you nor Caesar trusts us.”
The situation hung on the edge of a sword; whatever hold I had gained over these men could crumble with what I said next, and I felt a flare of anger, letting it show in my voice.
“First, I was given an order, and I follow orders. To the letter. Second,” I was struck by a sudden thought, “what would you do in my position, Cornuficius? Are you saying that you would not only violate your orders, but the trust placed in you by your commanding officer by telling what you knew despite very specific orders to the contrary?”
I was pleased to see a look of discomfort pass through those cow eyes, but it was only a flash.
“Well, Primus Pilus, the fact is I’m not in your position. But if I were, I guess what I would have to determine is wherein lies the greatest threat to myself, betraying my general, and worrying about him finding out about it, or having men at my back who do not trust me and what might happen because of their distrust.”
I was flabbergasted and shocked into speechlessness, which was something of a blessing, because it gave me a moment to observe the reactions of the other men. A couple of them, Annius being most prominent, had a look on his face similar to what I had seen on the faces of men watching the games when a kill was about to be made. But there were others, Felix, Clemens, and Sertorius being most prominent, who looked at the very least uncomfortable.
I forced my voice to remain calm. “Well, that’s certainly one way to look at it, Cornuficius. And if I were a suspicious man, I might think that you were actually making a threat, and as you know, as Primus Pilus, I would be well within my rights to have you arrested and executed, without trial.”
Oh, he was a cool customer; I will give him that, because he did not even blink. He merely nodded and replied, “As you say, Primus Pilus. That would be within your rights. However, I don't think that it would endear you to the men of the 6th, and in turn, your command of them would be doomed to failure. Which in turn would mean that you failed your general and patron, Caesar.”
“That would be a risk I’d have to take,” I replied evenly, “but you’d still be dead, neh? And I'd be alive, and where there’s life there’s always hope. Not so much hope when you’re dead.”
“So we’re at an impasse then.” He sipped his wine again.
Nobody spoke for several moments, each of us deep in our own thoughts.
Finally, I shook my head and said, “Not really. Ultimately, it’s not just Caesar and by extension, me, you have to worry about. If things were to play out as you’ve described, do you really think that all the rest of Caesar’s army wouldn't have their revenge? Especially my comrades in the 10th,” I saw no need to reveal the true state of the relationship with some of the men of the 10th and me, “who I have no doubt whatsoever would take their revenge.”
I could see that I was making an impact, and I pressed on. “Oh, it would never be anything official, you know that. A brawl outside camp, where suddenly the men of the 6th found themselves surrounded and outnumbered by the men of the 10th. Just a typical soldier’s brawl, although it'd be a bit bloodier than normal. A death here, a death there. Never more than one or two at a time, but they’ll add up over time, until the 7th and 10th Cohort of the 6th no longer exists, and the clerks at headquarters are left scratching their head trying to figure out what happened.”
This had them thinking all right, and they did not like the direction this was taking, but I was determined to hammer home the point I was making.
“So it’s not really an impasse. If I can’t convince you to accept and obey your orders, exactly as they’re relayed, because of the sacred oaths you all have taken at the lustration ceremonies, then you’ll just have to content yourself with the knowledge that my comrades would exterminate each and every one of you. Unofficially, of course.”
All eyes turned on Cornuficius, and again there was deadly silence. Finally, someone cleared his throat.
I turned to see Felix stand, and it was in the expression on his face that I first saw Scribonius, frowning while forming his thoughts. “Primus Pilus, I want to make sure you understand that Cornuficius is only voicing the concerns we all feel.”
Everyone’s head nodded, with the exception of Cornuficius, I noticed, whose bovine eyes narrowed, watching Felix, and I remember thinking, there is no love between these two, something I would do well to remember.
“However, I want to assure you that you can rely on me and the men of the Fifth of the Seventh to do their duty to Rome.” He put emphasis on the last word, looking dire
ctly at Cornuficius as he said it, then continued, “Because ultimately that’s who we all serve. Not an individual, but Rome.”
I do not know whether he meant that as a rebuke to me just as much as to Cornuficius, but I chose to take what he said at face value, and I nodded my agreement. “Thank you, Felix, that’s well put. And I absolutely agree. We all serve Rome, and right now the orders of our general are that we're going to leave day after tomorrow, and I’m not at liberty to say where. Does anyone else have anything to say?”
Predictably, nobody did. Dismissing them to go make their preparations, I stopped Cornuficius, motioning him to sit back down. He did so willingly enough, and I poured him another cup of wine and more for myself. We sat for a moment, sipping our wine while I tried to decide the best way to begin.
As usual, I opted for the frontal assault. “So, Gaius Cornuficius. Am I going to have to kill you?”
Of course, I had waited until he had started to take another sip of his wine, but instead of choking on it, he actually chuckled, lifting his cup to me in mock salute.
“You’re welcome to try, Primus Pilus. Many have, but none have succeeded.”
“None of them were me,” I said calmly, and now his expression changed.
For just the briefest of moments his mask slipped and I saw a blaze of hatred and anger flare, but it was gone as quickly as it had come.
“That’s what some of the others said.”
I leaned forward, my elbows on my knees so that I could look directly into his eyes. “Was my demonstration with Publius not enough? Or the fact that I faced more than 40 of the men and bested every one of them?”
He gave a short laugh. “Publius is a profoundly stupid man, Primus Pilus. I wouldn’t set a lot of store in besting him. But I'll admit that I'm not your equal with a sword; in truth, I don’t think I’ve seen anyone as good in all my time in the Legions.”
My eyes narrowed as I tried to determine if he was playing to my vanity, but his face was expressionless, giving me no clue.
Continuing, he said, “But there are many ways in which men do battle, Primus Pilus.” Sitting back, he rolled the cup in his hands, looking into its depths. Evidently coming to some decision, he said, “But to answer your original question, the answer is no, you won’t have to attempt to kill me, Primus Pilus, at least right now. I’ll do my duty in a manner that you’ll find no fault with. As Felix said,” as he spoke, he gave a small smile, just to make sure I knew that he thought no such thing, “we’re all doing our duty for Rome, and not one man.” He looked at me, I at him, and I knew in that moment that I had an enemy who I would have to watch very carefully indeed. “Will that be all, Primus Pilus? If so, I must go get the men ready to move out.”
I stood, indicating that the audience was over, watching him depart as I thought about all that had taken place. Calling Diocles, I told him that I wanted to speak with Felix, then sat down heavily, pulling the wine to me.
~ ~ ~ ~
Felix was announced, and I bade him enter. Clearly ill at ease, he stood at intente. Even after I gave him leave to sit, he relaxed only marginally and remained standing.
I decided to jump right in. “I just wanted to thank you for what you said, Felix. Your words eased the tension quite a bit.”
His eyes narrowed, and I could see he was trying to determine if there was anything hidden in my words that he needed to worry about. I laughed at the sight, thinking that he looked very much the way I felt whenever I was around Caesar, and I told him as much.
Shrugging, he said, “I just told the truth, Primus Pilus.”
“Yes, but sometimes speaking the truth, especially under such circumstances, can be extremely difficult, especially in front of your comrades. I just wanted you to know your courage was appreciated.”
“Thank you, Primus Pilus.”
He was still standing stiffly; finally, I had to order him to sit down. Offering him wine, he accepted a cup, but did not drink. Sighing, I realized that this was going to take more work than I had thought.
“Look, Felix, I’m not very good at this kind of thing.”
“Neither am I, Primus Pilus.”
I do not know why, but I found this funny and burst out laughing. At first, he looked offended, then in a moment, he began chuckling himself. Before long, we were both roaring with laughter.
Finally, I caught my breath. “Tell me about yourself, Felix. I just realized I haven’t sat down with any of you to find out more about each of you.”
“I know, Primus Pilus.” He said this without obvious thought, and just as quickly, I realized the error that I had made.
I had been so consumed with proving to the men that I was a physical force to be reckoned with and ensuring respect out of fear that I had not taken one of the most basic steps to guaranteeing that men obey because they want to, and that was to get to know them as men.
“Really? What else have I done wrong?” The instant I said this, I realized that it had not come out the way I meant it, and I could see as much by Felix’s change, his posture becoming tense and defensive. Before he could reply, I held my hand up. “Pax, Felix. The instant I said that, I realized how it sounded, but I’m being completely sincere. I truly want to know if there is anything else that you think would help with making things run more smoothly.”
Normally, I would never have asked this of a subordinate, at least not one I barely knew. Unfortunately, none of us, men, officers, nor I had ever been in a situation like this, and it was because of the straits we were in that I decided to throw the dice, hoping they came up Venus. I was taking a huge gamble that Felix would not simply tell me what he thought I wanted to hear before running back to the rest of the Centurions to relay how insecure I was truly feeling in my command. However, I felt that I had picked the right man for such a question, and the more I have thought about it, I have to believe that the similarities between Felix and Scribonius played a huge role in my choice. And my luck held; I had chosen the right man, who proceeded to help me more than I think even he knew.
~ ~ ~ ~
Boarding ship two days later, the men were sullen and quiet, angry that they had not been informed of their destination, something I chose to ignore. The Centurions were in a similar frame of mind, but were too professional to let it show openly, treating me with an icy professional courtesy, even Felix. At first I was puzzled by his demeanor, yet after thinking about it, I realized that while I thought we had made progress towards establishing a rapport two nights before, it was still too early for him to declare his allegiance openly. Fortunately, the worries that always accompany an ocean voyage soon took precedence in the minds of the men. Their problems with me and where they were going took second place to the fear of drowning. The fact that Caesar chose the most direct route from Pergamum to Alexandria did not help matters, because it meant a voyage across the open sea out of sight of land, something that did not make me any happier than anyone else onboard. Just as it was for the rest of the men, this was my first time on a ship where we spent more than a matter of a couple of watches without land in view, and the only thing I could be thankful for was that I had lost my tendency to get seasick. A number of the men were not so lucky, spending the majority of their time draped over the side of the ship. Luckily, the weather held, the sea never particularly choppy, with the winds blowing steadily. Even so, we spent three full days out of sight of land before the flagship sent the signal that land was sighted. There was a mad scramble as men roused themselves from their misery to run to the sides of the vessel, and I stifled a laugh at the sight. Despite having only gotten a glimpse of the maps of this region, I knew where we were headed and off what quarter of the ship the men should be looking for their first sight of land, but such was their disorientation that the betting was fairly evenly spread around all points of the ship. Watching the frenzy of wagering, I became aware of the sensation of being observed, turning to see Cornuficius standing with his Optio, a man named Furius, his bovine eyes studying me. Even
as I turned, I saw Cornuficius speak a quiet word to Furius and hand him a coin purse, whereupon the Optio scurried off, presumably to make a wager. I frowned; it was a bad idea on a number of levels for Centurions to engage in any of the wagering that the men did, although in fact, it rarely stopped many of them. It quickly became clear that Cornuficius was one of the men who saw nothing wrong with it. I walked across the rolling deck and approached him, returning his salute.
“Taking part in the betting action, Cornuficius?”
He nodded.
I regarded him for a moment, then said, “I don’t like my Centurions engaging in betting with the men. With other Centurions and even Optios, it’s fine, but not with the rankers.”
Cornuficius gave a small smile, like there was some private joke he was reliving, and I felt my anger stir, but there was nothing I could fault in his tone.
“As you wish, Primus Pilus, I’ll refrain from such activities in the future. And just so you know, it’s not something I do regularly.” He paused, as if trying to decide if he should continue, then gave another small smile. “It’s just that I seldom have an opportunity where I’m so sure of the outcome, I just couldn’t resist.”
“So you think you know where to look for land, Cornuficius?”
He nodded again. “Absolutely, Primus Pilus.”
“And how can you be so sure?”
Now the smile that had been playing at the edges of his mouth finally won the battle, quickly turning into a laugh. “Because you told me, Primus Pilus.”
And with that, he asked to be excused, which I granted, wanting a moment to myself. What had he meant by that? Thinking about it, I realized that he must have been watching me when the announcement was first made that land had been spotted and seen me look off the port side of the ship. That in itself was not a huge thing, but thinking on it more deeply, I was struck first by a question, then just as quickly by the answer, and the conclusion I drew was deeply unsettling. How could he have known to look at me when the signal came that land was sighted? The answer was that there was no way he could have known, which could only mean that he had been watching me already, and the chance to enrich himself was just, at least as far as he was concerned, a happy accident. It also explained why he thought it so amusing; he was having a laugh at my expense. I think what I found most disturbing was that up until the last moment, I had been unaware that he was spying on me, meaning that he was very, very good at being unobtrusive. My respect for Cornuficius raised a notch, but so did my dislike and distrust. I felt my jaw muscles tighten, determined that he would not best me again, at anything.
