Soldier of Rome: The Last Campaign (The Artorian Chronicles) (19 page)

“A far cry from when you had but a single ship,” Artorius noted.

“If I still had any hair, this posting would have caused me to lose it,”
the admiral added with a laugh.

Artorius greeted and shook hands with Cursor briefly before Plautius interrupted them.

“You can exchange pleasantries later,” he said curtly before calling their attention to the crudely drawn map. “Gentlemen, as you can see, we are divided into three battle groups. The largest will be on the right, consisting of the Ninth and Fourteenth Legions. I will be with this group and will attempt to establish communications with the Cantiaci as soon as possible. They are our surest allies in the region and most viable at helping us establish our initial base of operations.”

“
And I will be on the extreme left with the Second Legion,” Vespasian added. “In addition to driving the enemy further inland, we will see if we can ascertain the demeanor of the Atrebates. Will they welcome the return of their king under a Roman flag or have the past three years been sufficient to assimilate them into Caratacus’ kingdom?”

“Which leaves us in the center,” Sempronius said.

“The Twentieth will establish a beachhead and temporary base of operations for the majority of our cavalry,” Plautius remarked. “Tribune Cursor will accompany your force in the second wave once you’ve cleared any resistance from the beaches.”

“As offloading horses from warships is a slow and arduous task,” the cavalry tribune added, “I will need you to secure the landing site before we come ashore. After which, we will link up with the left and right divisions, forming lines of communication for the entire invasion force.”

“It will be crucial that you establish communications with me as soon as practicable,” Vespasian emphasized. “That way both legions can support each other.”

Plautius then continued, “Though our immediate mission is to restore the sovereignty of an allied king, all of you know that our long-term goal is to conquer a new province for the empire.
Several tribal kingdoms are known to be openly hostile, particularly the Catuvellauni under King Togodumnus. It is his brother, Caratacus, who now rules Atrebates. Intelligence gathering will be just as important as the actual fighting, for we need to know which tribes are aligned with him, and which ones are indecisive about whom they want as their friends. That is why an overwhelming show of force will be necessary once we land. Allies will be welcomed into the empire as friends. Those who oppose us will be smashed into the earth! Admiral Stoppello has the ship assignments for your legions. We launch in two days.”

During the final days of preparation, Centurion Magnus had quite an unexpected turn of events. It was late morning, and the Norseman had just returned from taking his century on a short run along the coastline when he saw her. His face broke into a broad grin as he saw a beautiful woman walking at the head of what appeared to be a hundred or so Syrian archers. Her light olive skin glowed in the afternoon sun, her long black hair pulled back tight against her head. She wore a light mail shirt, belted around the
middle, which seemed to only accentuate her figure even more.

“Dismiss the men,” he said hurriedly to his optio before sprinting away.
“Achillia!”

The woman stopped abruptly, startled at first, and then her own smile matching his.
She calmly but deliberately made her way over to the centurion and stood before him with her hands on her hips.

“Well
, fancy that,” she said with a cocked grin. “Didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

Unsure what to say and despite being sweaty and disheveled from his morning exertions, Magnus took Achillia in her arms and kissed her deeply. She was at first startled by this, her eyes wide in bemusement. She then groaned softly and wrapped her arms around him, kissing him back.

“What are you doing here?” Magnus finally asked.

“Allied detachment,” Achillia explained, taking him by the hand. “I decided a while ago to quit fighting for money in the arenas
, that my skills could be better used to serve the empire.”

“But you’re not auxiliaries,” Magnus noted.

“No,” Achillia replied with a shake of her head. “And besides, as a woman, I cannot officially join the ranks anyway. I am, however, still a Roman citizen with a sense of duty. And if I may flatter myself, I am a better shot with a bow than any in the entire army. So I formed a company of my own archers and petitioned Plautius to take us on as hired skirmishers.”

“You’re mercenaries then.”

“When you look at it, my dear, we all are,” she replied with a casual shrug. “You and your men get paid to fight, as do mine. Since the invasion force needs all the additional help it can muster, I think the commander-in-chief was glad to add a few more bows to his arsenal. My skirmishers move quickly and can be very useful when it comes to picking off enemy leaders.”

Magnus found all he could do was laugh at the implausibility of it all. Here was the most stunning woman he had ever met in his life, who he’d last seen fighting as a gladiator in Judea, and now she was leading a contingent of volunteer skirmishers that would be accompanying them in the invasion of Britannia.

“The fates must be very kind, to have placed us together again,” he said, turning to face her.

“Or very cruel. After all, it is extremely dangerous.” The smile on her face contrasted with the coldness of Achillia’s assessment.

“Well, since we do not know where, exactly, Plautius will place you within the army, what say we take the time we do have to reacquaint each other?” Magnus had a deviant grin on his face, which Achillia readily matched. In that moment, he felt like the most fortunate man in the whole of the empire.

As they left the principia, Sempronius went into a private meeting with Vespasian while Artorius hailed Tribune Cursor. The two had only seen each other in passing since their return to the Rhine. This was the first, and possibly last
, time they’d have to reminisce before the invasion.

“Who would have thought we’d end up here?” Artorius chuckled. “To think that a few short years ago I was cast out of the legions, and you had long since left the sword behind for a career in politics.”

“It would seem that life has taken us full circle,” Cursor added. “I promised Adela that after Braduhenna I would never more draw a blade in anger.”

“
She took your heeding the emperor’s call rather well, I thought.”

“She did not like it, but she understood,” the tribune explained. “In the end, I really had no choice, and not because the emperor
personally asked me to command his cavalry. Adela knows me better than any, and I think she saw that I had some important matters left unfinished even before I did. I spent many years away from the army, yet when I returned I knew I was doing the right thing.”

“It was the same with me,” Artorius remarked. He paused, his brow
creased in thought.

Cursor could tell there was something that had been troubling his friend for a long time. “
Listen, about the letter you sent me when I was in Judea. I’ve always meant to ask you about it, but…”

“I never faulted you for not responding,” the tribune quickly interrupted.
“Honestly, I never expected you to. I mean what could you say?” The letter referred to was one that Cursor had written to Artorius twelve years prior, after the fall of Emperor Tiberius’ praetorian prefect, Lucius Aelius Sejanus. It was Cursor, and small handful of others, who discovered the praetorian’s plan to usurp the emperor.

“Well
, just so you know, I never told Pilate,” Artorius assured him. “I’m not sure which would have hurt him more, that it was an old friend who destroyed his benefactor or that said benefactor was an ignominious traitor? What surprised me is that you sought reelection as tribune of the plebs after all of that.”

“It wasn’t easy,” Cursor admitted.
“I did what I had to do, bringing down he who betrayed the empire. But when Tiberius ordered the deaths of Sejanus’ two youngest children, I broke inside. Did you know they defiled the young girl while the noose was around her neck? Their rationale was that it would offend the gods to execute a virgin. As if they would be better disposed towards raping an innocent child before murdering her!” Though a dozen years had passed, the horrifying events of that hateful night still haunted the tribune. He pulled out a small kerchief and wiped his brow.

“Claudius was there that night,” Cursor continued. “He absolved me of any blame in the death of his niece and nephew, for you remember at the time he was married to Sejanus’ sister and was very close with the children. And in those few moments we shared, we promised each other we would
attempt to find something in Rome worth fighting for. That is why I sought reelection or, at least, that was what I told everyone. After ten years, I was tired. Adela worried about me, she knew that I had yet to find that which I sought and my soul was tormented as a result. Claudius becoming emperor and offering me command of the army’s cavalry corps restored that hope. Adela laments that I must now break my promise of never drawing my sword again in anger. She told me that it may be the only way to salvage my sanity and my very being.”

Artorius was aware of at least some of the events that had transpired in the aftermath of Sejanus’ downfall, though he did not know about the repugnant violation of the traitor’s innocent daughter. “And to think, Tiberius was once one of the greatest men to lead Rome’s armies into battle,” he said quietly.

“That is why I was so torn over what he’d done,” Cursor remarked. “I was the one who informed him about Sejanus’ betrayal, as well as later, when it was proven that Sejanus also had a hand in murdering Tiberius’ son. When I last saw the emperor, I did not recognize him anymore. Gone was the unbeaten general who had led the legions to countless victories. He was always cold and distant, but even his first years as emperor showed him to be a strong leader.”

“I think
, had he died before his son, he would have passed into eternity hailed as one of the greatest men to serve Rome,” Artorius conjectured. He then asked, “Have you found what you seek?”

“We shall see,” his friend replied. “I will say this; I do not think I will be returning from Britannia. Oh, I don’t mean to say th
at I foresee my death, although that is always a very real possibility. No, something tells me my future lies within that isle that we now seek to place under Roman rule. I have told Adela as much, and that we should be ready to sell the vineyard when the time arises. As it is right now, we have a tenant farmer renting it from us. I hope it does not trouble you that I should seek to sell your childhood home.”

“It is not home for me anymore,” the master centurion assured him. “If it was, I never would have sold it to you in the first place. I may have been raised there, but I was still a boy of seventeen when I left. And with parents gone, any thoughts of ‘home’ are not to be found there. But now to the present, for we have a long journey ahead of us before we can even think of such things.”

“Agreed,” Cursor replied, extending his hand. “I daresay, within the next few days, we will be writing the pages of history.”