by R. W. Peake
“Sa..sa..salve, Titus,” she stammered, then before she could say another word, I felt my own come tumbling out.
“How could you do this to Vibius, you…….whore?”
I did not even know I was going to say it, and the instant the word came out she looked like I slapped her, and I heard Gisela gasp behind me. However, it was the man with her, who I assumed was the bastard who had stolen her, that took a menacing step towards me, his hand moving to a civilian dagger at his belt. Before either of us knew what was happening my hand, as if possessing a mind of its own, grasped the hilt of my sword, pulling it in one smooth motion and placing the tip of the blade against the man’s throat, my arm held straight out. All it would take was not much more than a twitch of my shoulder and the blade would punch through his throat. A part of me was grimly amused at the idea that here I was on only my second visit home, and I was already about to kill someone else. For his part, the man did the right thing, standing completely motionless, all hint of aggression gone from his face and body.
“Titus, please, I beg you don't kill Quintus. He’s my husband! I can’t tell you how horrible I feel…..” I must say that the fear I heard in Juno's voice was quite satisfying.
“Shut up,” I told her quietly. “Let the men talk.”
Locking my gaze with Quintus, I took his measure, while he took mine, and I saw with some sadness that there was not much there that I thought worthy. Oh, he was strong enough physically; I learned that he was a smith, actually running a very successful business with several apprentices and journeymen under him. But there was no spark there, no anger at having a blade at his throat, no hint of defiance that told me that while I may have gotten the best of him that moment, he would not forget and I would have to look over my shoulder the rest of my life. Instead, there was just the naked fear that a civilian has for a trained soldier, and I would be lying if I said I did not savor the moment.
“So, Quintus is it? Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you, Quintus. You stole the woman of my best friend, you ruined his life.” I sighed, shaking my head in mock sorrow, “I must be getting old and soft because by rights your head should be rolling at my feet right now. So give me a reason why I shouldn’t avenge him this very moment.”
“Please sir,” he posessed what I thought was a whining quality to his voice, but was actually a bit lower pitched than mine, though it may have been due to the circumstances of the moment, “I didn’t mean your friend any harm. I only recently came to Astigi to start my own smithy, so I didn’t know beforehand that she had ever been involved with someone else. In truth, I didn’t even know she was betrothed for some time after we met, and by the time I knew, well,” he ended with a shrug.
I turned to look at Juno, surprised by what I had just heard. “Is that true, Juno? You didn’t tell Quintus here that you had sworn an oath to be true to Vibius?”
Juno refused to meet my gaze, looking at the ground, her shoulders hunched in misery as tears started flowing down her cheeks. For a moment she did not speak, then spoke in a small voice, “I was confused Titus. I didn’t know what to do. I had waited so long, and I was so lonely………”
Now I felt real anger stirring in me. “You were lonely?” I spat. “And you think Vibius wasn’t? Do you know he never took a woman, even for a night, because he loved you so much?”
Despite this not being the exact truth, it was near enough as far as I was concerned, because Vibius certainly never had a lasting relationship with any woman. Now Juno broke out into open sobs, and despite not wanting it to I felt my anger soften a bit; it was clear that Juno was feeling some sort of pain and remorse. Nevertheless, I still felt like I had not done enough for Vibius.
“So how many other men have you been with, whore? How will Quintus ever be able to trust you knowing what you did to Vibius?” I said this both for Quintus and for Juno, although it was more to hurt Juno than anything, but I saw that my words scored a hit on Quintus, his expression immediately changing. It was clear he had never thought about this, yet now that I planted the seed, I knew it would take root and grow, and he would never look the same at Juno again. It did not feel as good as I thought it would, but I had already uttered the words, so it was too late to bring them back now. Juno, if it were possible, looked even more hurt and wounded than she had a moment before. Despite the look on her face, I am a professional, and have learned to finish the job even if I find it distasteful, so while I found I was losing the taste for this, I was determined to deliver the killing blow.
“Know this, Juno. I’m not a religious man but I’m going to make an offering to Dis to curse this marriage, and to your namesake Juno, as well as to Lucina that you’re barren and bear no children. I wish on you nothing but pain and sorrow for what you did to Vibius, who was more true and faithful to you than you obviously deserved. As of this moment, you’re dead to me.”
I turned to Quintus. “Quintus, I bear you no real malice, but know this. The next time I see you, you better run the other way, because I'll kill you where you stand.”
Without another word, I grabbed Gisela’s hand and pushed past them, leaving Juno standing white-faced and trembling in fear, with Quintus in much the same condition.
For a few moments, neither of us spoke as my temper cooled, before Gisela finally said quietly, “Remind me never to make you truly angry.”
Gisela and I spent several more days in the inn, and every day I would go to the house, only to be told that Vibius was not accepting visitors. Finally, I had enough, waiting only long enough for the crone to intone the by-now familiar words before I roughly pushed past her to enter the house. On this day I decided to wear my uniform, so that Vibius’ family would know that I was here on official business as Vibius’ commanding officer and not as his friend. I did not take this action lightly, because I knew that it was going to cause perhaps an irreparable rift, if not with Vibius himself, then his family. His mother was standing in the main room, alerted to my intrusion by the sound of the crone’s calls for help that someone had broken into the house. She was clutching a kitchen knife, a defiant yet fearful look on her face, but when she recognized me she sagged in relief.
“Titus Pullus, you nearly scared me to death,” she gasped, clutching her heart.
However, I did not smile, or try to give her any comfort in any way; I had hardened my heart to do what I needed to do. “I’m here on official business, Domitia,” I was using what I thought of as my professional voice, which had the desired effect.
The smile froze on her face, the impact of my words sinking in. “Wha…what does that mean, Titus?”
“It means I’m here to fetch Sergeant Domitius back to return to the Legions. Our leave is almost up, and we’ll have to hurry to get back to the Legion on time. We can delay no longer.”
“But he’s not ready to travel, Titus,” she protested, making a move to block my way when I began to move towards Vibius’ room.
Staring down at her, I held my gaze until her defiance withered under my glare. “Don’t try and stop me, Domitia. I’m doing what's best for Vibius.”
“You’re doing what’s best for yourself, Titus,” she hissed, her anger and mother’s instinct getting the better of her composure. “You don’t care a rotten fig for Vibius, it’s your precious career that means more to you, and that’s the only reason why you’re here.”
My surprise at her words evidently was written on my face, because it clearly gave her courage. “Oh yes, don’t think I don’t know. Vibius has been writing for years, and he told us how you turned your back on him to pursue your precious career, so don’t pretend that you care what happens to him now.”
I felt like I was struck in the gut, but falling back on the discipline instilled by my years in the Legion, I kept my face a cold mask. “If what you say is true, then you know that I’ll stop at nothing to bring Vibius back,” I replied coolly, stepping past her to walk to Vibius’ room. Without bothering to knock, I kicked the door open, causing a satisfying cra
sh as it flew against the wall. The room was dark and stank to high heaven, and I could just make out a lump lying in a bed in the corner that scarcely stirred at the noise.
“Sergeant Domitius, on your feet,” I roared, but I was rewarded only with a slight movement. Once my eyes adjusted to the gloom, I walked over to the bed, seeing just the top of Vibius’ head poking out from underneath the covers. Kicking the foot of the bed with my boot, I was rewarded with a low groan.
“Go away Titus, I don’t want to talk to you.”
“There’s no Titus here,” I told him coldly, “and you’ll get on your feet when addressing your senior Centurion.”
I had hoped that this would be enough to give Vibius the needed impetus to get up, but he had always been stubborn. “Don’t pull rank on me,” his voice was muffled by the covers, yet I could hear plainly enough the beginnings of anger in his voice. Good, I thought, that's a start. Instead of kicking the bed again, I reached down, grabbing one corner to give it a good yank, turning the mattress over and dumping Vibius out on the floor. His nightclothes were stained with wine and I did not want to speculate what else, yet he got to his feet quickly enough, letting out a huge roar of anger as he turned on me. Before he could get any closer, I lashed out with my vitus, striking him hard in the ribs, causing him to gasp with pain. Despite the blow he kept his feet. Any other man would have buckled under that, I thought with some pride, but not Vibius. For his part, it just made him angrier and he charged at me headlong, his speed once again catching me by surprise. Even as I fell backwards, I thought with some chagrin that I always forgot how fast he really was. Tumbling into a heap on the floor, the combination of my armor and the weight of his body forced the air from my lungs in an explosive gasp. Encouraged by this sound, Vibius began to thrash at me, but I was able to block most of the blows with my arms, although a couple landed along my body, sending shafts of pain shooting through me. I was content to let him tire himself out and was glad to see that at least the slack living and moping about had sapped his conditioning, because it was only a few moments before I felt his strength flagging. Once he paused, I heaved him off of me, throwing him across the room while leaping to my feet, crossing to him before he could recover. I did not use my fists, because that would have been personal, instead thrashing him with my vitus, using it like he was a tiro in his first month of training and I did not stop until he was curled up in a ball, trying to protect himself. Finally finished I stood panting over him, and said harshly, “I won’t enter this into the official record Sergeant, since you know the penalty for striking a superior officer is running the gauntlet, followed by crucifixion,” I heard his mother gasp at this, “but I’m not going to tell you again. We’re leaving to return back to the Legion in a third of a watch. I expect you to be standing outside this house, fully packed and in full uniform, ready to go. Do you understand me?”
It seemed like forever, but was probably only a few heartbeats before he answered, “Yes, Pilus Prior. I understand. And I will obey.”
I grunted. “Very good. Now,” I turned to leave, “clean yourself up and say goodbye to your family. The 10th is waiting for us.”
Ignoring his mother’s poisonous stare as I left his room, I exited the house. I knew that there was a good chance that our friendship was now ruined beyond repair. But Vibius’ mother was right; I would not jeopardize my career for anything, or anyone.
It would be a lie if I said that I was not a little surprised to see Vibius standing outside his house, pale and looking haggard, but in an immaculate uniform. The servants must have been jumping through their own assholes, I thought wryly when Gisela and I pulled up in the wagon. This was the first that Gisela had seen Vibius since we learned of Juno’s betrayal, and I was glad that only I heard her sharp intake of breath at the sight of him.
The moment we pulled up, Vibius snapped to intente¸ giving his best parade ground salute, intoning in the expressionless voice that all rankers use to let their superiors know what they truly thought of them, “Good morning Pilus Prior.”
Then, with a shade more warmth he turned and said, “Good morning Gisela.”
“Good morning, Vibius,” Gisela replied in a cheerful tone that I recognized was forced, although Vibius did not seem to notice. “Lovely day to start back, don’t you think?”
Vibius shrugged as he threw his gear in the back before climbing into the back of the wagon. “Good as any, I suppose. Ready when you are, Pilus Prior.”
I do not know why I was hoping for anything other than what I was getting, yet I was disappointed nonetheless. I only hoped that things would return to a semblance of normality at some point in the near future. Once he was settled in, I slapped the reins, beginning our journey back to the base as I idly wondered whether or not my nemesis Celer had returned and been making trouble for me after arranging his father’s affairs. Suddenly, it did not seem to be so important now.
The trip back was a misery. Vibius was determined to make me feel as guilty as possible. While in the beginning he at least made a pretense of communicating with me, albeit always in an official tone, he finally dropped even that. By the end of the second day, we were reduced to using Gisela as our medium; I would ask Vibius a question, except it would be asked of Gisela. In turn Vibius would respond to Gisela, who would roll her eyes, but thankfully played along with the game. By the third day I grew tired of this and just stopped talking, at Vibius or to Gisela for that matter, my mood becoming so pervasive that they rarely spoke either. Consequently, it was a silent, sullen lot that traveled the roads back to the base. Our only relief came when we would stop for the night at some inn, where we could freely engage in conversation with strangers, and it was on the road back that we heard the first bits about what was happening in the wider world since we had been gone.
“Caesar’s a plucked and boiled chicken, that’s what I say,” we overheard an olive oil merchant from Campania telling a younger man dressed as a knight, at an inn still a few days away from Narbo. “Cato has him by the short hairs, that’s for sure,” he continued, and both Vibius and I, our differences temporarily forgotten, exchanged a glance. I raised an eyebrow in a silent signal and Vibius nodded, getting up from our table to walk over to sit next to the merchant. This was something we had long since perfected; Vibius being a much less imposing figure than I was, people warmed up to him more easily.
“Say you, friend. I couldn’t help but overhear,” he said genially, “what’s this business you speak of? What about Caesar?”
The merchant looked Vibius up and down, both of us having changed into our only civilian outfits for the journey, but we were still wearing our boots and our belts, telling everyone that we were from the Legions.
“Soldier, eh?”
There was no malice in the merchant’s tone like we sometimes ran into, and Vibius, picking up on the lack of hostility, nodded. “Home on leave down to Astigi,” he told the man, “now returning to our base.”
“What Legion are you with?” the young knight asked.
“The 10th,” Vibius responded, and even from across the room I could hear the pride in his voice. The effect on the others was palpable; the 10th’s fame was now well-known throughout the Republic and the provinces.
“Caesar’s favorites,” the merchant's tone was admiring. Then, he turned cautious, “Say, if I tell you what’s happening, you’re not going to take out Caesar’s troubles on us, are you? I mean, we’re just the messengers here.”
Vibius laughed, “No chance of that, friend. What happens to Caesar is his trouble, not mine. I’m just curious, that’s all.”
That was not exactly true, but it satisfied the two men at the table, and they filled Vibius in, either not knowing or not caring that there were two other sets of ears listening avidly to the news. The merchant was not exaggerating; Caesar was indeed in a tight spot. His old nemesis Cato had been a constant thorn in Caesar’s side for years, yet now the situation was becoming dangerous. Cato was working tirelessly to see t
hat once Caesar’s term as governor of Gaul expired, he would be tried for a variety of crimes, most of them actions that we were involved in to one degree or another. Most troubling to the Legions was the charge of massacring the Usipetes and Tencteri those years ago, and despite not understanding exactly why we did it, I did not think it just to try to punish Caesar for it. There was a war going on for gods’ sakes, what did the fine gentlemen of the Senate expect? To forestall the prosecution, Caesar decided to run for Consul, and was working the system to ensure his election. The problem lay in the fact that the only way he could run for Consul was to give up command of his army to enter the city, yet the moment he did that he lost his imperium¸ and with it the immunity from prosecution. He attempted to have a measure passed in the Senate exempting him from this rule, but Cato and his allies blocked it. Now, just a few months away from the end of Caesar’s governorship, this was the situation he faced. A complicating factor was Pompey, the old war horse and the man who had been the First Man since Vibius and I were born, but whose primacy was being eclipsed by Caesar. Despite being bound by oath, and by the marriage of Pompey to Caesar’s daughter Julia, her death in childbirth cut the last real tie that bound the two together. Cato was continuously in Pompey’s ear, dripping all sorts of poison about Caesar into it, meaning the rift between the two was ever widening. This was the situation to which we were returning, and needless to say, it gave us a sense of urgency as we increased our pace back to the base the next morning.
