Lost Legio IX: The Karus Saga

by Marc Alan Edelheit

  Karus considered it a moment, then shook his head. Their losses, though grievous, were better than he had feared. Still, it was terrible and Karus’s heart hurt at losing so many fine men. “You can give that to me later. What of the camp followers?”

  “The count is still underway,” Dio said with an unhappy look, “but it appears they number somewhere around seven thousand survivors.”

  Karus clenched his jaw at the news. If correct, it meant that at least three thousand followers had not made it. There was an uncomfortable shifting amongst the officers. Karus spat on the ground in disgust. This was all Julionus’s fault. The gods only knew their fate, poor souls. He let out a slow breath. There would be serious heartache amongst the ranks. Men had lost loved ones, and even entire families.

  Karus could have received this information privately, but he needed the trust of the officers and so they got the bad news with the good. He could not appear to be concealing vital information. It would come out in the end. Besides, all of the senior officers had suffered through losses over the years. This had hardened them. They would endure.

  “Thank you, Dio,” Karus said.

  “You are welcome,” Dio said.

  “Felix,” Karus said, turning to the next matter. “Have you completed the inventory of our food supplies?”

  “Yes,” Felix said. “Most of the mules made it. It was a good call to delay the retreat until we could transfer what food we could from the wagons to the mules. I won’t bore you with the tally of what was saved. As near as I can tell, we have enough to last us at least a fortnight. If we ration, we can probably stretch that out a few days more.”

  “Needless to say,” Ampelius spoke up, straightening his posture once more as he addressed Karus and the senior officers, “the men have been on short rations for several days already. Strength is flagging.”

  “We’re all aware of that,” Felix said with some irritation, shooting the surgeon a black look. “My stomach is nearly stuck to my backbone.”

  The surgeon seemed to deflate under the look. “Karus, the real problem is water. We don’t have near enough to even get us through the night.”

  “Well,” Karus said and glanced quickly out at the forest, “I’ve dispatched Valens and his cohort to explore the road we found on the other side of the hill. With luck, he will happen upon a stream or small river close enough that it will not be a problem.”

  “That forest down there is certainly green,” Mettis said with a glance down the slope. “There is bound to be a water source nearby. Speaking of which, how long are we going to remain here, Karus?”

  “And go where?” Flaccus demanded harshly. “For Jupiter’s sake, we don’t even know where we are.”

  Mettis frowned at Flaccus, but did not reply.

  “There seems only one possible path open to us,” Otho said, drawing everyone’s attention.

  “And what’s that?” Flaccus said to the prefect of the First Nervorium Cohort.

  “The road, of course.” Otho’s tone made it abundantly clear he felt this obvious. “I, for one, would prefer not to have to force my way through a dense forest.”

  “Otho’s right,” Karus said before Flaccus could respond. Flaccus turned his smoldering gaze upon Karus. “As I said earlier, we need to find out where we are. The only way to do that is by marching out of here.” Karus paused, returning Flaccus’s heated look with one of steady strength. “All roads lead somewhere. The sooner we find out where that one goes, the better.” Karus shifted his gaze around the half circle. “I need not remind you, but I will. Our overriding objective is to return to a friendly province and report for duty. We can’t do that sitting here atop this hill, where we will eventually run out of food, not to mention water.”

  “And what if that road leads us away from friendly territory?” Flaccus asked.

  “We will cross that bridge,” Karus said, flashing a warning glance at Flaccus and hardening his tone, “when we come to it.”

  Flaccus held Karus’s gaze for a heartbeat, then broke eye contact. Karus almost sighed. Flaccus would need more than a talking to. He would need to be watched. If his attitude did not improve, Karus might be forced to relieve him. It was not something he wanted to do. Though Flaccus was not quite a friend, he was a man of considerable experience and a hardened warrior. He had more than earned his position as a senior centurion and combat leader. That alone deserved Karus’s respect.

  “Staying here is not an option,” Karus said to them all. “As Ampelius so aptly pointed out, we need to find food, and soon. The strength of our men is flagging each day we remain on short rations.” Karus paused and looked around at his officers. “Our immediate priority is water.”

  “When do we march?” Pactus asked, clapping his hands together. “My men are almost finished cleaning their kit. We need to keep them busy and their minds off of this strange land. Marching … well, anywhere … will be good for them.”

  “Agreed,” Karus said, glancing in the direction of nearest cohort, where the men were busy finishing up their work under the oversight of their junior officers in preparation for inspection. Pactus was right and every officer present knew it. “I would like to get moving within the next hour.”

  “What of those unable to move under their own power?” Ampelius raised one eyebrow in question. “I would like to know your intentions.”

  “We will have to make stretchers,” Karus said. “We’ve lost enough men as it is. No one is to be left behind, even the two that are mortally wounded.”

  “Then, I most assuredly will require additional help,” Ampelius said, “if we are going to march within the hour, as you say.”

  “Pactus,” Karus said, “can the Fifth Raetorum spare a section or two to help?”

  “We can,” Pactus said. “As soon as we break, I will see to it. Say, forty men? Will that be sufficient, Ampelius?”

  “It will,” the surgeon said, looking deeply relieved and a little grateful. “Thank you.”

  Karus rubbed a hand on his stubbled chin as he studied the senior officers a moment. Each looked incredibly worn and tired.

  “I’ll say it again,” Karus said, hoping that the more he reinforced it, the better. “The gods have seen fit to transport us here. I don’t know the reason. Perhaps the Ninth is gods blessed. I certainly will not tempt fortune and question why. Nor should you or your men. It is enough that we were saved.” He paused a heartbeat. “We should all feel extremely fortunate and grateful. If anyone disputes that, I want to hear about it now.”

  Karus paused again, giving the senior officers a chance to speak. All eyes were upon him. He waited a few heartbeats more and made a point to lock gazes with Flaccus, daring the other to object. Flaccus simply returned the look, eyes smoldering with unfocused anger, and crossed his arms again in a petty act of defiance. In the end, no one objected or, more correctly, voiced it. Karus glanced down at his feet and played with a tuft of the strange flowering grass that grew there. He then looked back up at the senior officers.

  “We need to keep the legion together,” Karus said. “For if we are in a hostile land, the only way to survive is to continue to work as a team, as we have trained. To do this, we must maintain discipline and good order. Just because the gods brought us here changes nothing. We are the legion, remember that! I will tolerate nothing less than your best. I expect you to communicate this to your officers and men.”

  “I don’t anticipate a problem keeping my men under control,” Dio said.

  Karus glanced over at his friend and almost smiled. “I would be shocked if anyone here is unable to do the same,” he said. “We have all put in and served long, hard years, some of us together, some not. Each of us at one time or another has suffered and been tested individually. Collectively, such trials only serve to make us stronger, and this one is no different. We senior centurions are a brotherhood and, as such, support each other. Together we are the legion, its beating heart.” Karus paused and allowed that to sink in. “Now, are
there any questions before I detail the order of march?”

  “Yes, sir,” Frontinus said. “What about the dragons?”

  “What of them?” Karus said, noticing more than one set of eyes darting skyward in search of the incredible animals. “They have not harmed us, only flown overhead a few times, nothing more.”

  “They appear to be hunting,” Felix said. “Luckily they don’t seem to see us as a food source. If they did, I think they would be munching on Dio about now, though he’d likely be spit out.”

  There were several chuckles to that, but Karus saw more than a few concerned expressions.

  “Look,” Karus said. “I’ve never seen a dragon before and I’m sure that no one else here has either. We’ve all heard reports and tales for years of legionaries spotting dragons. This is just our first time, that’s all. They don’t seem interested in us. So, we ignore the beasts as best we can and carry on.”

  “Karus,” Frontinus said with a glance to his left and then right at his peers. “We’ve all thought those were tall tales told over cups. You have to admit, it’s a little disconcerting finding out that such creatures actually exist.”

  “I find it unsettling as well,” Karus admitted. “I also find the two suns disturbing. Worse, we don’t know what direction is what. I will not allow that or the dragons to interfere with my duty. We have a job to do. That job is to serve the empire, and the only way we can do that is to return to Roman lands.” Karus put cold hard steel into his voice. “I expect each one of you to conduct yourself in the same manner. If you are unable or incapable of doing that, step aside. I want to know now, before we march.”

  There was an uneasy shifting amongst the officers as they glanced from one to the other. Slowly, their gazes returned to Karus. None appeared ready to relinquish the command they had worked so hard and so long to achieve. It was what Karus had been counting on.

  “Good. The line of march,” Karus said, getting down to business, “will be as follows … First Cohort will lead. Second comes next, with Third and so forth. Fifth and Sixth Cohorts will have the responsibility to protect the mule train. Tenth will organize and protect the camp followers. The auxiliary cohorts will bring up the rear, with the Fifth Raetorum holding rearguard duty. Are there any questions on that?”

  “When will we be stopping for the night?” Otho asked.

  “Judging by the rate at which the two suns are moving through the sky … ” Karus said. Several of the senior centurions glanced upward. “It’s almost noon. I expect to march for three to four hours before calling a halt and settling in for the night. The legion will construct a fortified encampment.” Karus held up a hand to forestall any protests. “I know we’re short of entrenching tools, but we will just have to make do. We are in a strange land and I, for one, plan on taking no chances until we know exactly where we are. Are there any further questions?”

  No one spoke.

  “I am sure you have a lot of work to do before we march,” Karus said, keeping his tone hard. “Dismissed.”

  The officers turned away and made for their cohorts, a few talking amongst themselves as they moved off. Felix and Dio remained behind, clearly intent on speaking with Karus.

  “Well,” Felix said, “that went well.”

  “A bit harsh on them at the end,” Dio said, “weren’t you?”

  “You did come off a little tough,” Felix said.

  “It’s what they needed,” Karus said, feeling his anger rising. “They aren’t children. I wanted to make sure that there were no misunderstandings. We have absolutely no idea where we are or how to get back to Roman territory. I am the senior surviving officer. I had to make it plain that I, and I alone, am in command. The Ninth is not a bloody Greek democracy. You both should understand what was just done was absolutely necessary, even shutting down Flaccus.”

  “I got that,” Felix said, holding up his hands toward Karus, “but some of the others might resent you.”

  “Well, they can bloody well resent me all they want,” Karus said, “as long as they follow orders and maintain discipline. That is all I care about at this moment.”

  “Oh, they will,” Dio said, “but some like Flaccus will never be satisfied.”

  “Flaccus will get over his anger in time,” Karus said. “Julionus is dead and I did not have a hand in the misfortune that befell Fifth Cohort.”

  “No,” Dio said, “you didn’t.”

  “I think you should speak with him,” Felix said. “Flaccus is boiling over at the losses to his cohort.”

  “I had planned to this evening,” Karus admitted. “Once we make camp, or sooner if the opportunity presents itself.”

  “The sooner the better,” Felix said.

  Karus calmed himself. The legion’s entire situation was incredibly frustrating, and Karus felt the responsibility weighing heavily upon his shoulders. Karus let out a slow breath, almost as if he were expelling his anger and rage.

  “Felix,” Karus said, softening his tone considerably as he thought to ask after his friend’s wellbeing. “Did Keeli make it?”

  “Yes,” Felix said. “She’s just fine, a little frightened is all. I checked in on her earlier.”

  “Good,” Karus said, “I—”

  Karus heard a slight noise behind him, a scuffing of sandals. He turned to see Tribune Delvaris. Karus had not known that the youth had joined them. There was no telling how long he had been there. It was clear that the tribune had heard everything that Karus just said. Though just barely out of boyhood, Delvaris was an officer of the legion, even if he was only a junior aide to the legate. His father, however, was a powerful senator and his rank had been conferred directly by Hadrian’s own hand. As such, the boy deserved Karus’s respect, even if he had not yet earned it. One day, should he survive to make it back to Rome, Delvaris might become politically powerful and rise to high office, perhaps even the command of a legion.

  Karus regarded the tribune a moment. The side of Delvaris’s right temple was purple with bruising. Karus felt a stab of sympathy for the boy. His life had almost ended prematurely, well before it had even begun.

  “Tribune,” Karus said, “since the legate is gone and I am now in command of the legion, you will serve as my aide. Do you have a problem with that?”

  “No, sir,” Delvaris said, drawing himself up.

  Karus was impressed with the youth’s tone. It was hard and firm. There was strength there, he decided. Perhaps he could teach this young pup something about leading men so that years from now he would not make the same mistakes that Julionus had.

  “How’s your head?”

  “Hurts something awful,” Delvaris said.

  “It will pass, son,” Dio said with a slight grin appearing on his face. “Karus here once got knocked clean out in the middle of a bad fight. Felix had to drag him to safety, and then literally sit on him ‘til he regained his senses.”

  “Is that true, sir?”

  “It is,” Felix said with a smile directed over at Karus. “And I never tire of reminding him of it.”

  “Don’t you have to organize your men?” Karus asked Felix.

  “Yes, sir,” Felix said, smile becoming broader. He snapped off a casual salute, jerked his head at Dio, and the two officers walked off together toward their cohorts, chuckling.

  “Stick with me,” Karus said, turning back to Delvaris, “and you might just learn something.”

  “Yes, sir,” Delvaris said. “I will try.”

  “Good, I expect nothing less than your best.” Karus paused, breathing in and exhaling out slowly, thinking on what needed doing. “First order of business, Saturninus’s horse was recovered last night. I want you to find it and bring it over to First Cohort. Tell Centurion Ajax he is to take custody of the horse and saddlebags for me. No one but Ajax and the legion’s aquilifer are to touch those saddlebags. Got that?”

  “Yes sir,” the tribune said. He saluted and then started off.

  “Tribune?”

  D
elvaris checked his progress and turned to look back on Karus.

  “No need to salute me or ‘sir’ me,” Karus said. “You are a tribune. Tribunes do not salute camp prefects. You need only follow my orders. You may call me Karus. Got that?”

  “I understand,” Delvaris said, coloring slightly.

  “Good,” Karus said and jerked his head for the boy to move out. He watched as the tribune walked away in search of Saturninus’s horse. Karus fully intended to claim Brutus for his own. The money in the saddlebags would go to the legion, as the pay chests had been lost with the main supply train. It likely wasn’t much, but if the legion needed money, at some point it might come in handy.

  “Excuse me, sir.” Karus turned to find one of Valens’s troopers approaching, leading his horse. The trooper saluted. “I have a report for you, sir.”

  “Go ahead,” Karus said, returning the salute.

  “Prefect Valens,” the trooper began, “reports that about a mile and half from the base of the hill, the road crosses a shallow river. Though the bridge that was there has long since collapsed, the river is easily fordable. The water is fresh and fit for drinking, sir.”

  “Very good,” Karus said, feeling relief that they had found a source of fresh water so close. “Anything else to report?”

  “No, sir,” said the trooper. “I was just told to report that to you.”

  “Thank you,” said Karus and was prepared to dismiss the trooper when he hesitated. “Give me your impression of the forest.”

  “It is very strange, sir,” the trooper said, and then plunged onward. “Some of the trees are familiar. Others I’ve never seen before. Some are so wide it seems impossible. All the trees seem very old and tall. It’s so dark, there is very little brush or growth on the forest floor. It’s mostly moss beds and old leaves. Outside of the road, the sun doesn’t touch much of the forest floor. Oh, and the road shows no evidence of recent use.”