Lost Legio IX: The Karus Saga

by Marc Alan Edelheit

  “Oh, before I forget,” Dio said. “You asked me to look in on Macrinus and Arrens. I spoke with a few friends, junior centurions and optios I know well.”

  “Yes,” Karus said. “How are they doing with their new commands?”

  “Well enough, it seems,” Dio said. “Both are popular men and inspire confidence, though I suspect you already knew this.”

  “Aye,” Karus said. “I did. So, no complaints then?”

  “There are always complaints,” Dio said. “But I judge them to be doing an acceptable job.”

  “Excuse me, sir.”

  Karus turned to see Serma standing respectfully a few feet away. He motioned the man over.

  “The surgeon is here to see you, sir,” the clerk said. “He was quite insistent. Shall I send him in?”

  Karus nodded, and the clerk stepped off, walking back down the hall.

  “Ampelius,” Karus said, greeting the surgeon as he entered the hall and walked over to them. Karus noticed the tired look to the surgeon’s eyes as he scanned the room. The last he had seen the man, Ampelius had seemed almost rested. Something was wrong.

  “Ambitions on becoming emperor?” Ampelius asked, glancing around the hall, eyes settling upon the legionary standards.

  “Ah, no.” Karus decided it had been an attempt at humor, rather than a barb. The surgeon, though acerbic by nature, was without guile. Until this moment, Karus had thought him incapable of jest.

  “This hall contains a detailed map.” Karus pointed down at their feet. “Valens had just presented a report on his scouting efforts out in the countryside. You missed him.”

  “So it does,” Ampelius said with no little amount of surprise and began studying it curiously. “Can’t say I recognize anything.”

  “You requested to see me?” Karus asked.

  “Yes,” Ampelius said, looking back to Karus with unblinking eyes. “That sickness we spoke on.”

  “What about it?”

  “It’s spreading,” the surgeon said.

  “Plague?” Dio asked. There was a pang of concern in his tone.

  “I am not sure,” Ampelius said. “It does not have the hallmarks of plague, yet. The victims suffer mainly from fever, cough, and severe intestinal distress.”

  “Could it be the food we are eating?” Felix asked.

  “I’ve thought about that,” Ampelius said, “but ruled it out. Too many are eating the same and have yet to fall ill.”

  “What of the water?” Karus asked. “Could it be diseased?”

  “Everyone is drinking the same water.” Ampelius shook his head. “The water is clean and fit for consumption. There seems to be no causality to the sickness other than close contact. So far, around thirty of the camp followers have fallen ill, many members of the same family. Also, one century has ten men on the sick list with the symptoms. One of the men in that unit has family who have fallen ill, a wife and child.”

  “Which century?” Karus asked.

  “Second Century, Eighth Cohort,” Ampelius said. “It may be spread by the breathing in of contaminated vapors.”

  “What do you recommend?” Karus did not like what he was hearing. The last thing he needed was to have to deal with mass sickness, plague or not.

  “Well,” Ampelius said. “I’ve selected a large building as a hospital and had my patients moved there to keep the sickness isolated. Once someone shows signs of illness, they should be moved there forthwith. I would appreciate your support in this.”

  “I will give orders to that effect,” Karus said, though he knew that word of the sickness would rapidly spread. Fear would soon set in. He was working to rebuild the morale and discipline of the legion. This would surely chip away at what he had accomplished so far, much like water undermining a poorly built dike. “What else do you require?”

  “A century to act as assistants, and another to guard the hospital.”

  “Guard it?” Dio seemed surprised by that. “Whatever for?”

  Ampelius turned his unblinking gaze on the centurion. “Why, to keep my patients in, of course. If you were sick with a potentially fatal disease, would you really want to remain with others who may make you sicker?”

  “Of course not,” Karus said, cutting anything further off from Dio with a hard glance. “I will see that you have what you need. Anything else, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

  “Thank you, Karus,” Ampelius said and started to shuffle off, before stopping and glancing down at the mosaic. “You know, I was in Athens years ago studying medicine. While there, I saw a map of the lands east of Asia, beyond provincial Roman control. I always wanted to go there, but I was told the peoples in that land were savages beyond compare who drink fermented goat’s milk.” The surgeon shuddered with disgust. “Parts of this look somewhat like that.”

  Ampelius turned on his heel and, without another word, left.

  Karus blinked and glanced down at the map. Could it be? Were they beyond the province of Asia? The lands and peoples east of the province were reputed to be violent barbarians. Karus looked up at oH

  Dio and Felix.

  “Well,” Felix said, with a heavy breath, “if we are beyond our province, we need to find out which way leads back to Rome, and fast, because the peoples who live out here are, as the good surgeon said, barbarians. Not likely the friendliest of neighbors.”

  “Crassus,” Karus said in a near whisper.

  “The bloke,” Dio said, “that was part of the Triumvirate, with Pompey and Caesar?”

  Karus looked over at Dio with more than a little astonishment. It must have been evident, for Dio gave a shrug.

  “Karus,” Dio said, “we’ve been friends for more years than I can count, and you talk incessantly. I do listen, you know.”

  Karus gave a chuckle. “All these years and I thought it went in one ear and out the other.”

  “Some days it does,” Dio said. “Other days it gets stuck inside my head. Now, what of Crassus?”

  “Well,” Karus said, “if we are beyond the province of Asia, we could be in the general area past Syria. That is where Crassus, with seven legions under his command, was soundly defeated.”

  “And we have only one,” Felix said, looking meaningfully at Dio. “You should really listen more, you know.”

  “I will take that under advisement,” Dio said and fell silent.

  “Karus,” Felix said, “in addition to wagons, perhaps we should build some artillery as well. A few bolt throwers on the walls would be a nice comfort. The city has everything we need: boards, rope … I don’t believe it would impact the wagon construction very much.”

  “Very well,” Karus said. Each cohort was trained in building artillery from scratch. What Felix had just suggested made good sense. If it came to defending the walls, artillery would come in handy. “Have each cohort get on it and see that they are placed on the walls around the gatehouses. Dio, make sure that Ampelius gets the men he requires.”

  “I will,” Dio said. His brow furrowed. “Karus, are you all right?”

  “Just a little tired,” Karus said. The truth was he felt weary. He had been working himself hard and getting very little sleep.

  “You should get some rest,” Dio said.

  Karus nodded and, without saying another word, turned and left his two friends. The legionaries guarding the door snapped to attention as he passed. Karus made for his quarters, moving through the room where his clerks worked away diligently. They stood to attention as he passed.

  Karus’s quarters were just beyond the room he had designated as his headquarters and adjacent to the library. He entered and closed the door behind him. The room contained a large feather bed, a trunk someone had found for his personal possessions, and a desk with a stool. He glanced over at the bed and rubbed the back of his neck. Sleep beckoned. A gentle breeze blew into the room, drawing his attention to the large open balcony that overlooked the gardens. He stepped out onto it, rested his arms on the stone railing, and took a heavy bre
ath.

  Karus’s thoughts were dark and troubled. The fate of his legion weighed heavily upon his shoulders, and it was keeping him up at night. Movement below drew his gaze. Amarra was still strolling through the gardens. She had picked several flowers, forming a bouquet. The sight of her lifted his heart, and his troubles receded just a little.

  She looked up, saw him, and waved. Karus gave a small wave back and caught himself smiling. She turned away and continued making her way through the gardens. Her guard trailed a few steps behind. Karus’s thoughts darkened again. She, like everything else in this land, was a mystery that needed solving. Karus sensed that he was rapidly running out of time.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Blood slicked the floor. There was so much of it, Karus could taste copper on his tongue when he breathed in. Karus’s gaze drifted around the cell, his rage growing with each passing moment. A legionary lay dead at his feet. His throat had been cut nearly from ear to ear. The sheer amount of blood told Karus that there was another wound he was not seeing.

  The air was cold, even on this first floor, just feet beneath the surface. The dungeon reminded Karus of the catacombs in Rome, though here small cells had been cut into the rock, instead of shelves for the dead.

  Karus turned around. Outside the cell was another body, and beyond that, Ampelius was treating a gravely wounded man. Judging from the tear to his belly, and the dark blood that oozed out, he would not long survive. The sight angered Karus even more.

  The cell door lay open, and beyond it, Delvaris, Pammon, Flaccus, and half a dozen legionaries from the Fifth looked on in dismay. Two of the magic lanterns hung from chains in the passageway outside the cell. They provided just enough light to see by. A couple legionaries held torches that hissed and lightly popped.

  Shouts and calls could be heard in the distance, as a search was being conducted of the entire dungeon. The two druids who had occupied the cell were on the loose. They were being hunted.

  “I thought I could rely upon you,” Karus spat at Flaccus.

  “I don’t know how they managed to escape,” Flaccus said with a helpless look that only served to anger Karus further.

  “That’s not what I meant.” Karus moved by Delvaris, who was intently studying the metal door’s lock, and out into the corridor. He stepped up to the senior centurion of the Fifth. “You were charged with holding those two damned druids.” Karus turned around and pointed at the dead man in the cell. “What was he doing in there?”

  “I don’t know,” Flaccus said.

  “Don’t you?” Karus roared, the sound of his voice echoing off the stone walls. “I will tell you. Your men thought they’d have a little fun, maybe rough them up a little? Helpless, defenseless prisoners. I mean, what could have gone wrong?”

  Flaccus remained silent, a muscle in his jaw flexing.

  “They escaped,” Karus said, lowering his voice an octave. “Two of your men are now dead and likely a third. All because orders would not be followed.”

  “Karus,” Pammon said in a cautioning tone. “We don’t know that happened.”

  “I gave strict orders on that,” Flaccus said, becoming heated. He took a step nearer Karus. “I made it plain.”

  “Then you can’t control your men,” Karus said. “Can you?”

  “Why, you dirty … ”

  “Karus,” Delvaris exclaimed in a shout of surprise. “You have to look at this.”

  Karus and Flaccus turned. Half bent over, Delvaris was holding one of the magic lanterns close to the lock. Unlike everyone else, the tribune had not been following their exchange.

  Pammon brushed by Karus and Flaccus. He examined what the tribune had been studying.

  “The locking mechanism is melted,” Pammon said, sounding astounded.

  Karus stepped closer. Flaccus too. The metal from the lock had run like water, leaving a large round hole where the keyhole had been.

  “I once saw a building that had burned down,” Pammon said. “The metal from the locks ran like this. But I don’t understand. There’s been no fire here.”

  “How did they manage that?” Karus asked, anger abruptly fleeing.

  “No idea.” Pammon shrugged.

  “My boy was dragged into the cell before he was killed.” Flaccus shot Karus a heated look.

  Karus held Flaccus’s gaze for a moment, then turned and moved over to where Ampelius was tending to the mortally wounded legionary. The surgeon had removed the man’s chest armor, and it was lying next to him. A sword had penetrated clean through it. Either the blow had been particularly forceful or, more likely, there had been a defect with the lad’s armor. Ampelius had just finished wrapping a bandage tightly around the man’s stomach. Blood leached through to stain the gray fabric a dark red.

  “Can he speak?”

  “He is beyond my skills,” Ampelius said. “It is a kindness he lost consciousness. With luck, he will pass from this life without waking and suffering further torment.”

  Karus considered the unconscious legionary a moment and weighed his options.

  “Can you wake him?”

  “Karus, it would be a mercy to let him go without the pain consciousness would bring,” the surgeon said.

  “I need answers. I must know what happened here,” Karus said. “Can you wake him?”

  “Yes,” Ampelius said, looking none too happy. He rummaged through his satchel, which lay at his side, muttering under his breath just a tad too loud. “And people feel I am the heartless one.”

  Karus ignored the surgeon’s comment.

  Ampelius finally found what he was looking for. “Are you sure you want me to do this?”

  “Yes,” Karus said. Though he did not wish to have the lad suffer, he needed answers.

  “Very well,” Ampelius said and waved a small packet under the man’s nose.

  At first, there was no reaction. Then the man stirred, coughed, and turned his head away. Ampelius’s hand followed. He kept the packet close to the man’s nose. A moment later, the legionary’s eyes fluttered open. Ampelius drew his hand away.

  The man immediately grimaced and cried out, bearing his teeth. Bloody spittle frothed to his lips.

  Karus knelt down next to him, feeling terrible about what he had done.

  “What is your name, son?”

  “Severus,” he said. A spasm of pain wracked his body. When he recovered, sweat slicked his brow and he shook ever so slightly. “Am I done for, sir?”

  “Yes,” Karus said, deciding to go with the truth. “I am afraid there is nothing we can do for you.”

  Severus stilled, locking onto Karus’s eyes before his gaze slid over to Ampelius. “The pain hurts something awful. Will it get worse?”

  The surgeon nodded. “Undoubtedly.”

  Another spasm of pain struck. It left the legionary panting.

  “Mommy,” the legionary whined in a soft, pitiful voice. “Mommy, help me.”

  Karus had seen hundreds of fights and their aftermaths. He had witnessed numerous comrades and friends breathe their last. Some had even died in his arms. More often than not, grievously wounded with the sands of time running out, they called for their mothers. Karus let out a heavy breath. It never got any easier. He carried them all with him still and, soon, this one as well.

  “I don’t want to feel the pain.” Severus focused on Karus. “Can you finish me, sir?”

  “I will,” Karus said, voice gruff with emotion. “I will speed your way to the afterlife and give you the coin to pay the ferryman.”

  Flaccus knelt down opposite Karus.

  “No, Severus,” Flaccus said, hand going for the hilt of his dagger. He took a moment to clear his throat before he continued. “I will give you that mercy myself. It would be my honor.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Severus said and then closed his eyes. “I’m ready, sir.”

  “Not yet, son,” Karus said, placing a hand on the lad’s shoulder. “We need to know what happened here.”

  Severus’s e
yes snapped open.

  “Monsters,” he said in a whisper, gaze becoming wild and unfocused. “Monsters came for us.”

  “What do you mean ‘monsters’?” Flaccus demanded.

  “Like in the back of the wagon.” Severus’s breathing became heavy, abruptly coming in great gasps. Another spasm gripped him, and he screeched like a dying calf. “Like in the back of the wagon, sir. We all saw it, monsters … ”

  “He is mentally disoriented,” Ampelius said. “Sometimes it happens with mortal wounds, lack of blood combined with the shock.”

  “Calm down, son,” Karus said, patting Severus on the shoulder.

  “They are coming for us all,” the legionary screamed before yet another spasm took him and he arched his back. When he recovered, he retched up thick dark blood onto his chest and bandaged stomach. After a moment of panting, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and relaxed. The legionary’s eyes found Karus. He grabbed at Karus’s chest armor with a bloodied hand and pulled him close. The grip was surprisingly strong.

  Karus offered his hand and the legionary took it, pulling Karus closer. Severus trembled slightly. With a gasp, he whispered. Karus leaned his ear close and Severus whispered again. A moment later he went limp, the hand going slack as his shade crossed over to the other side.

  Karus closed Severus’s eyes and sat back, looking at the legionary’s blood on his hand.

  Ampelius checked for a pulse. After a moment, the surgeon shook his head and stood.

  “What did he say?” Flaccus asked, standing with Karus.

  “He said, ‘They came out of the walls’,” Karus said. He took a deep breath and then looked around the small corridor.

  “What does that mean?” Flaccus glanced downward at Severus’s body.

  “I think … ” Karus stopped, spied a legionary holding a torch, and held out his hand. “Give that to me.”

  The legionary passed over the torch. Karus’s eyes swept the corridor once again. The cell that the druids had been kept in was one of four on this level. It was also at the farthest end, and the last cell. Karus paced a few feet beyond Severus’s body, holding the torch near the floor.