Praetorian Series [3] A Hunter and His Legion (26 page)

“You don’t want a fight?”  I asked.

“Of course not, Hunter,” he replied sternly, still without looking at me.  “You yourself may be a glutton for blood and death, but I certainly am not.  I have no desire to slaughter those who cannot possibly stand against the overwhelming might I so often bring against them.  Everything I do is for Rome’s protection and nothing more.”

I pointed
a finger at the Britons.  “And invading Britain constitutes protecting Rome?”

With that question,
Galba finally turned to face me. “Rome has many enemies, Hunter.  That is a reality I cannot control.  Were we to rest on our borders and do nothing, it would only be a matter of time before we were overrun.”

Galba’s prescience was impressive because he was totally right.  Rome’s stagnation and inevitable downfall was due in large part to their lack of ex
pansion a few hundred years from now.  Whether they even had the ability to expand wasn’t the point.  Their strategy then had been to do little more than hold the line, which in large part led, as Galba so astutely pointed out, to them being overrun.

But I didn’t tell him that.

There was no need since Rome had to fall eventually.

Just not yet.

Instead, I nodded in silent agreement and returned my attention to the legion, which had just begun to march forward in a steady rhythm of choreographed footfalls.  I watched them move forward for just a second before giving Felix a slight kick into his flanks to nudge him forward, but Galba stopped me with a word.

“
Halt.”

“Why?
”  I asked.  “Leaders lead, Galba.  From the front.”

His eyes seemed to twinkle at my comment
.  “Unless you are Julius Caesar, which you most certainly are not, then a good leader stays in the rear where he can better direct his troops.  He does not advance brashly into an awaiting horde.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m better armed and equipped than Julius Caesar was.  I’ll be fine.”

“There is no question that you are, Hunter, but what you lack is his charisma, zeal, luck, and… everything else that constitutes a real leader.  You will stay here.  You are the key to getting your people away from my empire, and while you dead will certainly solve the problem of
you
, it won’t do anything for your friends.”

His last words were dripping with condescension
and anger, and I felt that bit of nervousness in my stomach turn into anger in my chest, but I did everything I could to suppress it.  I was beginning to not like Galba one bit anymore, but I kept that resentment buried away in my chest for later use.  I reminded myself that I needed Galba – for now – but such a fact was becoming harder and harder to remember.

I kept my mouth shut, but turned to my right
where every single time traveler from Helena right next to me, to Artie at the far end, sat atop horses in a long line.  The newcomers had finally been given mounts upon landing in Britain, and I’d been shocked to learn that they were all quite competent with them.  Apparently, mounted warfare atop horses hadn’t been very far removed in their timeline, and each of them was fully trained to ride into combat.  It had only taken them a matter of minutes to acclimate themselves to a lack of stirrups, and the fact that they’d so quickly adjusted made me wonder if they’d even been invented yet in their timeline.

I hadn’t aske
d because I didn’t want to know, but I tried to look at it as a positive since they could all act as quick reaction forces to augment the legion far more efficiently than local cavalry.

I leaned forward so that I could look past Helena and caught both V
incent’s and Archer’s attention.

They too leaned forward.

“Take your men to the flanks and cover the legion and auxilia,” I ordered them both.  “Galba doesn’t expect much of a battle so don’t shoot anyone unless they directly threaten you.  It’s possible your gunfire will scare them more quickly than even the legion, but whatever you do, don’t shoot first.”

Vincent nodded, but Archer had more to say.

“Why not just kill them all, Hunter?”  He asked.  “Rome needs to conquer this territory anyway, so why not help them?”

I
shot him a look that would have burned him to ashes had I possessed the ability to create fire from my eyes.

“I didn’t come to Rome to conquer it, Archer!”  I yelled.  “If I’d wanted to, I could have, believe me!  But that was never the point!  Never the goal!  How could you possible think that?? 
I wanted to affect as little change as possible, but
no
… we had to get involved, and then it fell on me to fix everything!  But that doesn’t mean…”

“But
, Hunter…”

“Shut you
r fucking mouth, Archer!”  I screamed, spittle flying from my lips.  If not for Helena and Vincent between us, I wasn’t sure I wouldn’t have smashed his face in with the butt of my rifle.  “Now do as I say!  But leave Cuyler.”

Helena and Vincent glanced nervously at each other, doing their best to remain inconspicuous but
their presence barely even registered with me.  My eyes were locked on Archer’s, and his eyes burned back just as intensely, but he wasn’t in a position to countermand my orders.  I had two entire legions at my back, and I would turn them on him in an instant if I had too.

The tension lingered for what seemed like hours, before he f
inally turned away and ordered his men to the right flank.  Vincent did the same with our group, directing them to the left, but when Helena kicked her horse into motion, I reached out and gripped the reins, stopping her horse.

“Where do you think you’re going?”  I asked, unable to keep the edge out of my voice
, still upset from my argument with Archer.

She looked back at me angrily, her own voice unable to hide her anger.  “Where do you think I…”

“You’re going nowhere, Helena,” I said, the scorn voluntarily there this time.  As I spoke, Cuyler rode up with his sniper rifle slung over his back, his dark clothing making him all but invisible atop his white horse now that night had settled in.

I ignored Helena completely and turned to him.
  “Take Helena and follow behind the legion.  Hang back and out of harm’s way and provide sniper support, but just as I ordered Archer, don’t shoot unless you need to and don’t go anywhere
near
the fighting.”

“Yes, sir,”
he replied with a salute, waiting for Helena to fall in with him.  When I failed to release her reins, his normally stalwart expression grew uncomfortable before he urged his horse to trot away without her.

I turned back to Helena, and was too angry to be surprised at the fact that, for once, she wasn’t looking back at me
in the same way.  Normally, she never put up with my shit, but in this instance she just looked terrified.  Her attention was on my hand, the one that gripped her reins, and I too took notice of just how tightly I squeezed the rough cords, so much so that they were cutting into my palm and causing blood to drip to the ground.  My heart beat against my chest like a jackhammer as I turned my eyes back to her uncompromisingly.

“Go with him,” I ordered, “
but don’t you dare go near the fighting.”

Normally, she may have smacked me or even punched me
for talking to her like that, but not this time.  All she could do now was hold her eyes on me as I let go of her bloody reins, letting them drop against her horse and paint her fur a dark crimson red. I didn’t take my eyes off Helena’s as she slowly reached down to take the reins in her hands and guide her horse toward where Cuyler waited.

And I didn’t care.

I no longer even felt upset anymore, only caring about completing this battle as quickly as possible and moving on toward our true objective.  When Helena met up with Cuyler, I turned away and returned my attention to the battlefield, realizing that we had already wasted more than enough time.

Out of the corner of my eye I noticed Galba lookin
g at me.

“What?”  I asked,
not bothering to return the look.

“I know not what that conversation concerned, but I never expected you
capable of directing such anger toward your woman, nor has it ever seemed possible for her to seem frightened of you either.  What has happened to you, Hunter?  The man in my tent months ago seemed desperate, but what I see in you now is something far worse.”

I turned as menacing an expression on him
as I could manage, and he flinched.

I was finished with people c
laiming I was a changed man, claiming that they could see how different I was than when I had last met them.  Helena, Agrippina, Archer, Vespasian, Artie, Galba… who did they think they were? 

The things I’ve seen…

The things I’ve done…

The world I’ve been forced to live in
…

How can a man not change?  How can a man remain the plucky, idealistic, jovial protagonist everyone can get behind and root for?  That naïve
shit was for people like Santino.

Galba’s
goddamned right I’ve changed.

It was
well past time for me to find my center. To focus on more important things, even when others didn’t understand.  And most importantly, it was time to start doing what was necessary, no matter the cost. It was time I did whatever I needed to get home.  My home.  Not Artie 2.0’s home, or any other bizarre variant. 
My
home!  Where my dog is named Argos not… fucking Rex.

What kind of asshole names his dog
Rex??  Fuck you Rex!  Fuck all of that!

And especially…

“… Fuck you, Galba.”

***

The battle, and I use the term loosely, was over before it even began.

Like Galba
had predicted, the sight of two legions, its accompanying auxilia and cavalry, and a dozen armed people with rifles were just too much for the besieging barbarians.  Thirty minutes after we’d arrived, their entire attacking force dispersed in an unorganized mess.  Everything about their attack had already indicated a lack of leadership, but their retreat had confirmed it.  They’d scattered in a dozen different directions, not waiting around long enough to fall prey to a thrown spear or a rifle’s bullet.

I’d asked Galba about their lack of leadership
a few minutes after the “battle” had begun, and while he’d been reluctant to talk to me – for whatever reason – he’d responded grudgingly that it was certainly possible that the men attacking the legion had been little more than a group of sub-chieftains and their ilk.  Were that the case, it was highly probable that this attack hadn’t been sanctioned by whoever was still in control of the local tribes, or it had been little more than a probe of the legion’s capabilities.

At least
they’d been smart enough to flee.  Even if they had been an organized, cohesive unit instead of the unruly mob that they were, their force would have been annihilated.  While Galba had sent our cavalry to harry the retreating Britons as they made their way back into the wilderness, and I had no doubt there would be casualties as a result of such action, it was a necessary strategy to keep the enemy from double backing and hitting us while we prepared our defenses.  Since the legion fort was already situated on good ground – away from the nearest tree line and close to a fresh water source – it was a simple enough matter for my legions to begin construction of their own camps alongside the original, giving them an outlet for the adrenaline they’d built up in preparation for the battle that hadn’t happened.

I, on the other hand, had more pressing business.

With Galba, my time traveling companions, and two centuries of legionnaires from the
XV Primigenia
, I spurred Felix toward the gate that contained the
XX Valeria Victrix
and its legate, Aulus Plautius.  Without a word, the gates parted, allowing us entrance through the
porta principalis sinistra
, the camp’s left gate, and instant access to the
via principalis
, that would take us directly to the
praetorium
and its owner.

I rode
through the gates at the vanguard of our procession with Galba behind me.  Beside him was Vincent and Archer, but I was more surprised not to see Helena there as well.  A quick glance behind me revealed that she was riding near the rear of our small group with Santino and Cuyler.

I was about to wa
ve the three of them forward, when I was distracted by a roar from the camp’s inhabitants.  It startled me at first, but when I looked out at the gathered troops, instead of the horrific or frightening scene I expected, I was rewarded with the sight of the legionnaires yelling and screaming and waving in good cheer at our arrival.  It seemed like a silly thing to do since little had occurred, but then I realized that many of them had no way of knowing how small the attacking force had really been.  They may have expected a brutal, prolonged battle instead of the quick skirmish that had actually transpired.