Soldier of Rome: The Sacrovir Revolt (The Artorian Chronicles) (16 page)

The bathhouse was a
godsend to Artorius. Though their sortie across the Rhine had been anything but a full-scale campaign, his body told him otherwise. The only time they were able to use Roman roads was when they crossed to the west side of the Rhine at the Batavian border.

“Remind me to start getting out more,” he moaned to Praxus, who was getting a massage on a nearby table
while a slave worked the soreness out of Artorius’ muscles. “Going out on road marches twice a month is not cutting it.”

“I agree,” his fellow
decanus replied. “I think I’ll start going out when Flaccus takes the recruits on their road marches, which should start up soon.” The cohort’s recruits had not gone across the Rhine with them, and had instead been folded into the Tenth Cohort’s group of recruits and trained with them. With the Third Cohort back, the recruits rejoined their unit.

“Yeah, I’ve got to start running them through javelin and
scorpion training soon,” Artorius added. “I’ve got to start training up for the
Legion Champion
Tournament
as well.”

Praxus laughed and shook his head at that.
“As long as Vitruvius withdraws from the competition, you should not have any problems.” “I don’t know,” Artorius said. “I have not sparred in a while, and to be honest I felt a bit rusty against that jackal I killed on our little sortie.”

“Well
, don’t look at me if you are looking for volunteers!” Praxus retorted. “I remember how you and Vitruvius used to pummel the crap out of each other. Okay, so
he
did most of the pummeling, but still…”

“And speaking of pummeling,” Artorius laughed, “what did you make of the Batavian women?”

“That warm, bitter ale did a number on me before I had a chance to find out,” Praxus replied sheepishly. 

Artorius howled afresh with laughter.

“Alright fellas, one at a time
, please,” Artorius stated as he set into his fighting stance.

In front of him, single-file, were the members of his section.
All wore their helmets and carried a practice gladius and shield. Carbo was at the front of the line.

“Let me get this straight
. We get a free round of drinks for every time we let you thrash us?” he asked, settling uncertainly into his fighting stance.

“There is no
letting
me do anything,” Artorius corrected. “You are all helping your decanus get ready for the Legion Champion competition. And yes, a free round of drinks for every time you decide to give it a go.”

Valens raised his hand.
“Artorius, you know I really don’t drink much . . .”Artorius rolled his eyes. “Alright Valens, in your case it will be a classy prostitute.  But you have to go at
least
three rounds!” “All right!” Valens shouted, grinning from ear to ear and raising his gladius in triumph.

Carbo came at Artorius
, punching with his shield. Though each man in his section was skilled in his own right at close combat, they were no match for the century’s chief weapons instructor. Artorius quickly knocked Carbo’s shield aside and stabbed him beneath the rib cage. As soon as he went down, Decimus lunged forward, catching the sergeant across the helm with a blow from his shield. Artorius stumbled back and then settled into his stance once more. Decimus was taking things a little more seriously, and he was not going to let his decanus have an easy win. After a minute of punching and jabbing with their practice weapons, Artorius charged forward and with brute strength knocked the legionary down. Before Decimus could get to his feet, Artorius caught him with a jab to the neck. Gavius and Valens were dispatched quickly before Artorius faced his old friend, Magnus.

Magnus rolled his neck from side to side and loosened up his sword arm.
He grinned at his decanus and deliberately advanced on him. Their shields collided several times before Artorius lunged in with an attempted stab to the ribs. Magnus blocked this with his shield, which he then swung and caught Artorius in the midsection. The sergeant stumbled back, surprised at the ferocity of Magnus’ attack. The legionary renewed his attack, nearly catching Artorius in the face with a stab from his weapon. His retraction was too slow, and Artorius caught him on the wrist with his shield, knocking the gladius away. Magnus yelped in surprise and raised his shield to block Artorius’ attack. Artorius purposely attacked Magnus on his left, pushing him towards where his gladius lay on the ground. In desperation, the young legionary lunged to grab his weapon, only to catch the point of Artorius’ gladius in the back of his neck as he attempted to rise.

“Not bad,” Artorius remarked, breathing rather heavily.
“Since when did you start taking sparring seriously?”

“Since I figured you shouldn’t be the only one in the
century vying for the title of Legion Champion,” Magnus replied, rubbing his wrist and the back of his neck.

Artorius smiled wide and nodded in respect to his friend.

“Well, do us both a favor and give me a better run for it when the actual competition comes!”

Chapter VI
I: The Centurions’ Council

***

Gaius Silius sat at the head of the meeting hall, along with the military
tribunes and Master Centurion Flavius. Flavius would have the final say once the counsel of centurions voted on his successor. At the table directly below the legate’s platform sat all of the cohort commanders, along with the centurions of the First Cohort. Given the importance of selecting a suitable man to hold the highest position in the legion a common soldier could hope to achieve, the debates would prove to be long and tedious. Though all centurions were professionals and would vote for whomever they felt was most fit, it would be hard for them not to show loyalty to their own cohort commanders and vote for them. Such potential impasses had to be avoided as much as possible. Silius deliberately kept from announcing Flavius’ retirement too soon, lest the candidates for the position start focusing all their energies on politicking their fellow centurions. Word had still gotten out and much political effort had already been exerted by those seeking to become the primus pilus.

Flavius had been a
soldier for so long he knew of little else.  His wife, Marcia, was the ideal military spouse. She had been supportive through every campaign, dressed his wounds from battle upon his return, and held him in the night when the nightmares born of horrors he suffered to protect her and the Empire came. She bore him two fine sons, one of whom was a scholar, the other a legionary like his father. He had three grandchildren from his eldest son, and thought it not right that a grandfather should still go off to war. He wished to retire and spend more time with his wife and grandchildren while he was still in the prime of his health.

His finances were more than sound.
His pension from the army would be impressive, plus he would be elevated to membership within the patrician class. He would be able to stand for offices such as Tribune of the Plebes, with even the possibility of becoming a provisional governor. He smiled at the thought. He, in fact, relished the thought of a peaceful tenure in a position where he could still serve Rome. Marcia would be pleased.

“The position of
centurion primus pilus is the highest a soldier from the ranks can hope to achieve,” Silius spoke. “He is the senior advisor to the legion commander, answering only to him. His responsibilities include not only leading the elite First Cohort into battle, but also the development and mentoring of all centurions and other officers within the legion. It is an epic responsibility, requiring that the man chosen truly be a
Master
Centurion.

“All of you have personal loyalties to friends and fellow
centurions who will be standing for this position. You must put personal loyalties aside and focus only on which of these men is best suited to be your master centurion. Which of these men possesses the greatest skill in battle, the most ingenious tactical savvy, and the soundest leadership? It is up for you to decide.” With that, he took his seat.

Deliberations continued for some time.
Each candidate stood before the assembly, his merits, and awards for valor, and experience laid out. Since it would take a clear majority for a decision to be made, there were numerous votes-off after the initial tally. After each voting, those with the fewest in number were removed from consideration and left the table to join their peers in voting. After three rounds, Centurion Primus Ordo Aemilius, Centurion Primus Ordo Draco, and Centurion Pilus Prior Calvinus were the remaining candidates.

All three were legendary
soldiers in their own right. Aemilius was a superior cavalryman who had fought beside the allied Batavi tribesmen during the wars against Arminius. He had been awarded the Civic Crown for saving the lives of numerous Batavi auxiliaries during the fierce fighting along the Weser River. For him, the award was bittersweet, seeing as how he had failed to save Batavi War Chief Chariovalda, who had been a close friend of his.

Draco was a tactical genius and a master of “shock” tactics. He epitomized the Roman ability to adapt to adverse situations in the heat of battle. Often times he was able to manipulate the enemy’s strengths against
them. Nothing pleased him more than misleading the enemy into thinking he had the Romans outmatched, only to be led into a trap with disastrous consequences. One tactic he was famous for was keeping half his javelins in reserve during an engagement. As his men closed with the barbarians, he would unleash a second javelin storm just as contact was made. His legionaries would then fall into a hasty wedge and charge full-tilt into the barbarians. His men were so well-drilled at this maneuver that the effects were devastating.

Calvinus, the only
cohort commander still in the running, was a legend for reasons he wished he wasn’t. He had been one of the few to survive the disaster in Teutoburger Wald, something that still haunted him. Only two other soldiers survived from his century and, while he blamed himself for the deaths of the rest of his men, most gave him credit for saving the ones that he did. Cassius Chaerea, the senior officer who led out most of the survivors, credited Calvinus’ sound leadership for keeping himself and his men alive. In fact, Tiberius, at the behest of Cassius, would later award Calvinus the Civic Crown for saving the lives of more than one hundred men during the aftermath of the battle. Calvinus went on to lead the Fifth Cohort during the campaigns of retribution against Arminius. His men had been particularly ruthless, looking to avenge their centurion.

After another voting tally, Silius
was smiling; clearly a sign the assembly had, at last, come to a decision.

“A majority has been reached,” he announced.
“The votes cast by the centurions of the Twentieth Legion in electing the new centurion primus pilus are as follows: Centurion Primus Ordo Draco: ten votes. Centurion Primus Ordo Aemilius: fifteen votes. Centurion Pilus Prior Calvinus:  thirty votes.”

Calvinus
beamed when he heard the results. Aemilius closed his eyes, trying to mask his disappointment. Draco grimaced slightly and nodded in acknowledgment.

“
Do any here object to the appointment of Centurion Calvinus to this position?” Silius then asked. The room was silent. Silius looked over towards Flavius. “Master Centurion Flavius, do you approve of the assembly’s decision?”

Flavius rose to his feet and addressed everyone in his ever commanding voice.
“I have served with Centurion Calvinus since he came to the Twentieth Legion over ten years ago,” he began.  “His service as a cohort commander has been distinguished, his valor in battle exemplary.  To the centurions of the First Cohort I say this; Calvinus’ appointment is by no means a discredit to any of you.  You are still the elite commanders of this legion.  I trust Calvinus will be welcome as a brother into your ranks.  He will lead you well.”  He then turned to his chosen successor. “Centurion Calvinus, you have been given the greatest responsibility of any soldier within this legion. Every man from the lowest legionary to the centurions primus ordo will be looking to
you
as their example. Do right by them and continue to honor your legion.” With that, Flavius briskly exited the hall.

As a whole, the
centurions of the legion rose to their feet and gave a loud ovation to the man who would soon be their master centurion.

Afterwards, Calvinus found
he was alone with the four centurions of the First Cohort.

Draco was the first to speak.
“Calvinus, the counsel of centurions has chosen well.”  He extended his hand.

“I have to say, I thought the position would be mine,” Aemilius added. “However
, I see that my peers felt differently. Know that we will serve you well,” Aemilius added, shaking Calvinus’ hand heartily.

The rest
of the men followed suite, all congratulating Calvinus and promising to work well with him.

“Calvinus, your responsibilities have just been magnified ten-fold,” Flavius told him in private. “Leading the first cohort is one of your many primary tasks. There is much talent in this Cohort, and I advise you to use it well. Your main focus will be training and mentoring the junior centurions, as well as advising the legate and chief tribune. They will be looking to you for answers. When dealing with them, it is best to guide them so they can figure things out on their own. Sometimes they need a little nudge of experience to show them the way.” He handed Calvinus a goblet of wine.

“
I am a little nervous about my appointment,” Calvinus admitted after taking a long pull off his wine.

Flavius waved him to take a seat.

“I’ve been a
cohort commander for so long, it is what I am most comfortable with.”  He continued. “I don’t know if I can live up to administering to the machinations of an entire legion.”

Flavius sat back, his fingers
steeple under his chin as he listened.

“Calvinus, none of us ever are,” he replied.
“I had more than my fair share of pitfalls when I first took the reins of primus pilus. You’ve got good men to work with. Let the primi ordinones run the First Cohort. The First is self-sufficient as it is. Focus your leadership at the legion level. Make yourself available to the cohort commanders and junior centurions. Legates and chief tribunes come and go, but
you
will be the mortar which holds this legion together.”

“You leave me with a vast responsibility,” Calvinus said.
“I hope I prove to be a worthy successor.”

“You will,” Flavius reassured.
“For it is you whom I wanted to replace me.”

Calvinus
raised his eyebrows. “Why?  You worked with the first rank centurions for so long, surely you would have wanted one of them to take over.” Flavius grinned and shook his head. “Calvinus, I see you still have much to learn.” Flavius finished his wine and signaled for a servant to refill his cup.  “Just because I may be more familiar with the First Cohort’s Centurions does not mean I felt one of them was most worthy. Perhaps I should have done more to ensure one of them was more ready for the responsibility.  All are fully capable of legion-level command. However, there is something about you that instills the men with respect and admiration for you.”

“I’m not
sure I’m following you, Flavius,” Calvinus replied. “Draco and Aemilius are both my equals, if not my betters when it comes to tactics and strategy.”

“You underestimate yourself,”
Flavius said, a slight trace of disappointment in his voice. “Draco can shatter the most disciplined enemy phalanx with his unorthodox tactics, and Aemilius has proven invaluable with his ability to work with our allied cavalry units. They are also two of the bravest men I have ever met. What separates you from them is your ability to work with the legion as a whole, not just your particular cohort.

“
The first cohort oftentimes acts as its own entity, apart from the rest of the legion. Granted, the veterans of the cohort have earned the right to be a little bit elitist. A Master Centurion is the first spear of the entire legion, not just the First Cohort. Your peers know you; they know how to work with you. While none doubts Draco or Aemilius’ abilities, they do not know how they would be to work under. They know what falling under your command will mean. I’ve spoken to all of the centurions within the First Cohort and made my feelings clear to them. While I encouraged each to make his case before the assembly, they knew you were the one to beat. They realize you have the confidence and backing of the entire Valeria Legion.”

Sacrovir
looked over the council of tribal chiefs he assembled. For most, the term “tribal” meant little anymore. Many had long since adopted the dress and manner of the Romans. They lived in lavish estates or in great halls, yet the price of their existence was eternal servitude to Rome, something which these men found to be intolerable. The leaders of the Andecavi and Turani tribes were conspicuously absent. Sacrovir held a separate meeting with them, and their part of the plan was already in the works. Little did they know, theirs was merely a ruse; they would be led by Sacrovir as lambs to the slaughter. Heracles and Florus sat on either side of him. Also with him was Julius Indus, a nobleman of Florus’ Treveri tribe. His cavalry regiment was stationed to the east, and Florus looked to subvert them to their cause.