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Authors: Anthony Riches
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length of the empire, from the burning sand of Syria to the ice and snow of Dacia, and nothing has ever put a lump in my throat like the sight of good soldiers ready for whatever the day might throw at them.’
He paused for a moment, and Marcus sneaked a sideways glance that found the older man gazing misty-eyed at the ordered lines of men before him.
‘This is my last posting, young man, and I had to beg the powers that be for this chance to be a fighting man one last time, even if I am only supposed to be the officer who organises the legion’s food and pay. Take a lesson from where I find myself, Centurion, suddenly clinging on to the arse end of my career and wondering where all those years went. Make the most of each and every day you have under the eagle.’ He laughed, shaking his head to dispel his melancholy. ‘Well at least Procurator Avus should be happy that his precious cargo will be travelling under suitable protection. Doubtless he’ll be expected to report to some exalted person or other as to the state of affairs he discovered here …’
Marcus followed his gaze to find the imperial official standing a short distance away with a look of approval at the soldiers’ ranks. Looking back at the column his eyes found his wife Felicia and her assistant Annia, an island of femininity in the column’s sea of iron. The young centurion stared wistfully as his wife handed their infant son up to the now heavily pregnant Annia, who had already taken her place in the cart that had been procured for them at Castus’s order. The camp prefect had readily agreed to take his wife, his baby son Appius and the doctor’s assistant with him to the Sixth Legion’s fortress at Yew Grove, as part of the well-protected convoy of wagons that would deliver Tribune Sorex’s gold to the buried strongroom safe behind its heavy stone walls. The final member of the women’s small party was his standard bearer’s grandson Lupus, whose furious protests at being made to accompany the women had fallen on deaf ears. Marcus had taken him aside once his initial anger at the decision had burned out and the boy had been reduced to tearful silence, squatting down on his haunches to look up into the child’s resentful eyes.
‘We don’t always get what we want, young man, and nor should we. What use is a life that doesn’t contain the occasional disappointment to remind us just how pleasant success tastes, eh? This time you have to go with Felicia and Annia, and that’s all there is to it.’
Lupus had shaken his head, his reply petulant even though he knew that when the centurion spoke so firmly his will was not to be questioned.
‘But I came with you last time you marched to fight.’
Marcus had smiled, conceding the point.
‘And we were lucky enough not to get you killed. But this time I need you to go with the women. Besides, I’ll feel happier with one of us close to them.’
The boy had nodded solemnly at him, his eyes widening at the centurion’s words, and put his hand to the hilt of the half-sized sword strapped to his waist, much to the amusement of the soldiers. Catching the direction of his companion’s stare, the Prefect nudged him with an elbow and nodded towards the two women.
‘Don’t worry, Centurion, I’ll make sure they’re not bothered by the soldiery. Indeed it will be a pleasure to escort two such agreeable ladies to a place of safety. I believe that your woman is a doctor with some experience of treating battlefield wounds?’
Marcus smiled wryly.
‘She has saved the lives of several men I would have said were fit for nothing more than a quick and merciful release from their suffering, but she has experience at inflicting damage as well as repairing it, if the need presents itself. And I suggest that you approach her assistant with care. Annia is, as you can see, somewhat heavy with child and she is not, I can assure you from recent experience, particularly happy with that condition. I think
He paused for a moment, and Marcus sneaked a sideways glance that found the older man gazing misty-eyed at the ordered lines of men before him.
‘This is my last posting, young man, and I had to beg the powers that be for this chance to be a fighting man one last time, even if I am only supposed to be the officer who organises the legion’s food and pay. Take a lesson from where I find myself, Centurion, suddenly clinging on to the arse end of my career and wondering where all those years went. Make the most of each and every day you have under the eagle.’ He laughed, shaking his head to dispel his melancholy. ‘Well at least Procurator Avus should be happy that his precious cargo will be travelling under suitable protection. Doubtless he’ll be expected to report to some exalted person or other as to the state of affairs he discovered here …’
Marcus followed his gaze to find the imperial official standing a short distance away with a look of approval at the soldiers’ ranks. Looking back at the column his eyes found his wife Felicia and her assistant Annia, an island of femininity in the column’s sea of iron. The young centurion stared wistfully as his wife handed their infant son up to the now heavily pregnant Annia, who had already taken her place in the cart that had been procured for them at Castus’s order. The camp prefect had readily agreed to take his wife, his baby son Appius and the doctor’s assistant with him to the Sixth Legion’s fortress at Yew Grove, as part of the well-protected convoy of wagons that would deliver Tribune Sorex’s gold to the buried strongroom safe behind its heavy stone walls. The final member of the women’s small party was his standard bearer’s grandson Lupus, whose furious protests at being made to accompany the women had fallen on deaf ears. Marcus had taken him aside once his initial anger at the decision had burned out and the boy had been reduced to tearful silence, squatting down on his haunches to look up into the child’s resentful eyes.
‘We don’t always get what we want, young man, and nor should we. What use is a life that doesn’t contain the occasional disappointment to remind us just how pleasant success tastes, eh? This time you have to go with Felicia and Annia, and that’s all there is to it.’
Lupus had shaken his head, his reply petulant even though he knew that when the centurion spoke so firmly his will was not to be questioned.
‘But I came with you last time you marched to fight.’
Marcus had smiled, conceding the point.
‘And we were lucky enough not to get you killed. But this time I need you to go with the women. Besides, I’ll feel happier with one of us close to them.’
The boy had nodded solemnly at him, his eyes widening at the centurion’s words, and put his hand to the hilt of the half-sized sword strapped to his waist, much to the amusement of the soldiers. Catching the direction of his companion’s stare, the Prefect nudged him with an elbow and nodded towards the two women.
‘Don’t worry, Centurion, I’ll make sure they’re not bothered by the soldiery. Indeed it will be a pleasure to escort two such agreeable ladies to a place of safety. I believe that your woman is a doctor with some experience of treating battlefield wounds?’
Marcus smiled wryly.
‘She has saved the lives of several men I would have said were fit for nothing more than a quick and merciful release from their suffering, but she has experience at inflicting damage as well as repairing it, if the need presents itself. And I suggest that you approach her assistant with care. Annia is, as you can see, somewhat heavy with child and she is not, I can assure you from recent experience, particularly happy with that condition. I think
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