Soldier of Rome: The Legionary (The Artorian Chronicles) (9 page)

“Revenge,” Artorius replied without pause.

“Oh,” Magnus raised an eyebrow, then shrugged it off.

Their banter was interrupted when the door o
pened and two fully armored legionaries walked in. One had his left arm in a sling, and in his right hand he held some documents. With them came the centurion who had conducted their interviews.

“
Men,” the centurion said, “this is Sergeant Statorius and Legionary Decimus of the Twentieth Legion. They’ll escort you to your post. Any questions concerning your assignment you can direct towards them.” With that the centurion left.

“When
I call out your name, line up outside,” Statorius said.
“Antoninus.”

“
What?” the young man replied. The decanus lowered the scroll and walked over to the young recruit, a deep scowl scoring his face. Antoninus started to realize his error as the decanus stood with his face just centimeters
from his ear.

“Is that how you address a superior?”
Statorius shouted.
“When I call your names, you will sound off with ‘Here, sergeant.’ Is that clear?”

“Yes,
sergeant!” all the recruits sounded off together.

The l
egionary named Decimus held his fist over his mouth, trying to stifle a laugh.

“Now, let’s try this again.
Antoninus.”
Statorius shouted.

“Here,
sergeant.”

“That’s better.
Artorius.”

“Here,
sergeant.”

“Gavius
.”

“Here,
sergeant.”

“Magnus
.”

“Here,
sergeant.”

As soon as their names were called,
each
rushed outside to see twenty horses saddled and waiting for them.

“This is how we are getting to the
Rhine?” the recruit whose name was Gavius asked nervously.

“What’s the matter, can’t ride?” Decimus asked as he came walking out.

“It’s just that I’ve never ridden a horse before.”

“
You’ve got two weeks to learn,” the legionary said, not
smiling.

“Two weeks?” Artorius asked.

“What, you didn’t think we were just going to fly to the Rhine, did you?” Decimus did not wait for an answer. “Think yourselves lucky, we got these horses real cheap, otherwise you’d be walking to the Rhine.”

Just then, Sergeant Statorius came walking out. He walked briskly over to his mount, and with some effort, having only one good arm, managed to get mounted.
“Alright, stow whatever personal belongings you have into the saddle bags. You’ve got two minutes to be mounted and ready to ride.” Good horsemanship was not something many Romans possessed, so it was rather amazing that all of them were ready to ride when the Sergeant gave the order to move out. Gavius struggled with his mount for most of the first day. Very little was said for the first few hours of their trip. All of them wanted to garner whatever information they could from the Sergeant, but none seemed willing to try and talk with him. Artorius, bored with the silence, decided to make conversation with Statorius.

“Excuse me, Sergeant?” he said.

“Yes?”

“Did they send you all the way down from the Rhine just to pick us up?”

“I was wounded in action several weeks ago, and I was convalescing in Ostia until just yesterday. I was on my way back when I got saddled with taking you lot with me.”

“May I ask how you got wounded?”

“Sure,” Statorius replied. There was a silence that followed. Artorius realized that the decanus was waiting for him to ask.

“So how did you get wounded?”

“I messed up.”

After another long silence, Artorius realized that this particular conversation was going nowhere. Decimus rode over and nudged him.

“Don’t worry about the Sergeant. He’s a little irritated right now. Besides, he doesn’t talk much anyway.”

Artorius looked over at Statorius, who seemed to be brooding about something. He tu
rned his attention back to the legionary.

“Could you please tell us about where we are going?” he asked.

“Yes,” Magnus piped in, “tell us about the legendary Twentieth Legion, Valeria.”

“Valeria?” Gavius asked, still struggling with his horse.

“It means valiant,” answered Artorius.

“That is correct,” replied Decimus
. “A lot of times a legion will be given an honorary name to add to its title. The Second Legion is known as ‘Augusta’ since it was formed by the former Emperor. Some names
aren’t so flattering, though. The Twenty-First Legion is known as ‘Rapax,’ which technically means ‘The Predator’. However, it has been taken to mean ‘greedy.’ As for Valeria, it is, indeed, a legion full of valiant men. The place we are headed to is called Cologne. It’s a good-sized town. What with two legions stationed there, many feel it will soon boom into a full-blown city. We share a double-sized fortress with the First Legion, Germanica. They’re a pretty good lot. Gaius Caetronius is their Commander.

“Most, in fact
, I think all of you, are being assigned to the Third Cohort. Four of you, Artorius, Magnus, Antoninus, and Gavius are coming to the Second Century, where I happen to be assigned.”

“Century,” Antoninus said, “so that means there are a hundred men assigned to it?”

“Actually, that’s not correct,” Decimus answered. “A century is made up of ten tent groups, or sections, of eight men each. The senior man in each section holds the rank of
decanus
, Sergeant of Legionaries. So, in actuality, there are eighty men in a century, eighty-four if you count the senior officers, when we are at full strength, which is practically never. Sergeant Statorius and I come from the same section.

“The
centurion
is the man in charge of the century. All are highly experienced soldiers who’ve come up through the ranks. Most have between fifteen and twenty years in the army by the time they see promotion. Our centurion, Platorius Macro, is one of the younger ones; he was just promoted within the last year. Come to think of it, there are a number of young centurions in the Twentieth. There was a big shake-up amongst the ranks after the entire army damned near mutinied.”

“The army mutinied?” Magnus asked.

“Didn’t hear about that back home, did you?” Decimus stated more than asked. “That doesn’t surprise me. Anyway, that’s a story for another time. Like I was saying, you’ve got the centurion who runs the century. Directly beneath him is the optio. The optio is second in command of the century and he takes care of a lot of the day to day business. Our optio’s name is Valgus.

“The other predominant figures within the
century are the
signifier
and the
tesserarius
. The tesserarius takes care of all the duty rosters, the watch words of the day and the training schedules. He’s somebody you definitely want to make friends with, especially if you want to avoid certain details like digging out the sewage pipes every time they get backlogged with shit.”

The recruits all wrinkled their noses at the thought.

Decimus laughed and continued, “The signifier is in charge of all the century’s pay and allowances and is also third in command of the century. You’ll learn to love him on pay days. He is also the one who carries the century’s standard into battle, which he uses for relaying visual signals and orders to other units. Flaccus and Camillus are our tesserarius and signifier. There are also some various special duty positions like the
chief weapons instructor
. Sergeant Vitruvius holds that position. You’ll get to know him
very
well over the next few weeks.”

Statorius started laughing, as if at some inside joke that only he and Decimus were privy to.

Decimus continued his dissertation on the makeup of the Roman Legion. “So now you know the basic structure of the century. The c
ohort
is made up of six centuries, and it is commanded by the ranking centurion, known as the centurion pilus prior
,
who is always assigned to the First Century. Valerius Proculus is the pilus prior for the Third Cohort. Ten cohorts make up the bulk of the legion. Cohorts Two through Ten are structured exactly the same. The First Cohort is a bit different. It only has five centuries instead of six, but each of these is at double-strength of one hundred sixty men. All soldiers in the First Cohort are handpicked veterans and are considered to be the elite of any legion. Their centurions are each given the title of centurion primus ordo. They are the most experienced and the senior ranking centurions within the legion. They outrank even the cohort commanders. They, in turn, are led by the centurion primus pilus, sometimes known as the chief or master centurion. He is the senior ranking centurion within the legion, and third overall in the chain-of-command. It is the highest rank an enlisted soldier can ever hope to achieve, though most will never see it. Remember, there is only one per legion, and there are currently twenty-five legions in the Empire. You can do the math on that one. Flavius Quietus holds that position in the Twentieth. He’s a hard-ass, old-school soldier. Has a soft spot for the men, though.

“The Equestrian Class of society provides the
legion with its military tribunes. There are six in each legion. They serve as staff officers, mostly for only six-month tours. We pay little attention to them as very few are serious at being career army officers. Pontius Pilate, Chief of Artillery
is one of those few.”

Artorius’ ears perked up at the sound of his old friend’s name.

Decimus continued, “The senior tribune in the legion comes from the Senatorial class, just like the commanding general or Legate
,
as is his official title. Caecina Severus is the legate of the Twentieth. Gaius Strabo,
Chief Tribune
, is second in command. ”

The new recruits tried to absorb as much of this information as they could during the two weeks it took them to reach their home on the Rhine. They stayed at various road stations along the way, sleeping in the stalls next to their horses or wherever they could find a place to
lie down. The further north they went, the colder it became. Snow covered the landscape as they closed in on their destination. Artorius had never dealt easily
with the cold, and he clutched his cloak as tightly around him as possible. One afternoon, they finally saw the town of Cologne and the fortress coming into sight.

Chapter IV: From Civilian to Soldier

***

“There it is lads,” Statorius said, “home of the Twentieth Legion, Valeria.”

“Lads
?” Artorius muttered to Magnus.  Statorius overheard his comment. 

“Yes, lads, you’re all
my
boys, until I can make men of you.  No one calls you ‘lads’, except me.  If any of the other recruits calls you a ‘lad’ you have my permission to beat the shit out of him.” 

This brought snorts of amusement from several of the men.

The recruits grew excited as they rode closer. The fortress was an impressive sight, indeed. What made it impressive was the permanence of the structure and its menacing appearance. There were several ditches surrounding the walls that were filled with jagged spikes and foot obstacles, though with the snow on the ground, the recruits could not see the contents of the ditches. The walls themselves were of stone and masonry, as were the guard towers. The gate was reinforced with metal strips. It was open, and there were several guards on duty just inside. Statorius showed them some papers, and they ushered him in.

The fortress resembled a small city more than anything, only it appeared to be cleaner and more organized. There were long rows of barracks, stables, blacksmith shops, bakeries, bathhouses, just about anything one could need. It looked as if one could get easily lost.

“How does one find his way around here?” Magnus asked.

“It’s not hard, once you understand the layout,” Decimus said
. “Plus, after you’ve been inside one fortress, you can find your way around any, since all are identical in their layout. Here we are.”

They stopped at a stable where some grooms came to take their horses. The grooms were
local Germans, though they had better hygiene and grooming standards than one would expect from “barbarians.”

“From here we walk,” Statorius said.

They walked over to what looked like a headquarters building. From there, most of the recruits were escorted off by waiting legionaries. Only four, Artorius, Antoninus, Gavius, and Magnus remained with Sergeant Statorius. He walked them over to another building. This one was L-shaped. It was really long on one side, where Artorius assumed all of the billets were for the men of the century. The shorter end housed the Centurion’s quarters plus their offices. They walked into the outer office, where a soldier was sitting behind a desk, filling out paperwork. The soldier looked up and smiled when he saw Statorius.

“Look who’s decided to come back to the land of the living,” he said.

“Good to see you, too, Camillus,” Statorius replied, grasping his hand.

“So, what have we got here?” Camillus asked.

“Fresh ones, straight out of the turnip patch. Do you have any idea where we’re putting them?”

“As a matter of fact,” Camillus said, shuffling through some papers, “this one, Antoninus
, is getting assigned to Ostorius’ section. The rest…” he paused, “are going with you.”

Statorius looked surprised. “I didn’t think I had three vacancies.”

“Well, that one new kid you had, what was his name, Falerius, I think. Anyway, he took a bad fall during a night march in some rocky
country. It busted his leg up pretty good. The doctors said the leg probably would never fully heal, and while he may walk again, marching and fighting were definitely out of the question. So yes, you had three vacancies. Now, you and Ostorius are about the only sections that are at full strength.”

“
We will be once these recruits make it through training. When do they start?”

“Tomorrow,” another s
oldier said as he walked in from the outside. He was also dressed in full armor, and he carried a long staff with a knob on the end of it, a symbol of his rank. “Statorius, welcome back,” he said, shaking the decanus’ hand.

“Valgus,” Statorius said, “good to see you. Lads, this is Valgus, the
optio for the Second Century.”

Valgus nodded in acknowledgment. “Let me get out of my gear
, and I’ll take them over to supply to draw their basic issue. In the meantime, why don’t you go bathe and relax for a while? You look like hell,” he said to Statorius.

“Yes, I definitely need to hit the bathhouse.”

“I’m already there.” Decimus shouted from the doorway as he left.

“When do we get to use the bathhouse?” Artorius asked, realizing that his own smell was more than a little ripe.

Valgus walked over and placed the end of his staff underneath his chin. “Who in the hell gave you permission to speak,
recruit? If
your scrawny ass makes it through training, and
if
we actually decide to let you become a legionary, then you can speak. Until then you will shut the fuck up unless spoken to!” The optio gave his staff a slight nudge to emphasize his point.

Artorius was taken aback that he had called him ‘scrawny,’ given that he had about twice the amount of muscle mass as the
optio.

Without missing a beat, Valgus withdrew his staff and continued calmly, “In answer to your question
: later, after you get all your equipment and are settled into your quarters.”

As soon as Valgus had changed
, he took them over to the armory. An older legionary stood behind the counter along with a couple of Gallic assistants. There were shelves and bins of gear and weapons behind him.

“Line up single file and start trying on your equipment,” he said curtly.

The first thing they drew was one pair of caligae sandals with cold weather leggings. Next, they were sized for their red tunics, of which they were issued four. Artorius required the largest size of tunic available to fit around his muscular frame. Next, they were each issued a belt with groin protection in the front, a dagger with scabbard, a Gallic-style helmet with cheek guards, and body armor, known as the
lorica segmentata
. Again, Artorius required the largest size of armor available. The armor was a bit of a puzzle to figure out. It consisted of horizontal metal bands that wrapped around the torso. It also had extra bands for the shoulders and neck. In addition to all of this, they were issued a basket, pick, saw, some wool blankets
for their bunks, and a long Y-shaped pole with a leather sack in which to put everything.

“No other weapons?” Magnus asked, holding his dagger.

“Until we show you how to use them properly, all you dumbasses will do is hurt yourselves.” Valgus yelled from the door.

“You’ll get those at the end of training, after you’ve sworn the oa
th of allegiance,” the veteran legionary answered.

With great difficulty they managed to haul all of their gear over to their quarters in the
century’s main hall. They were shown to a room where there were eight bunks. Five of these showed signs of occupancy. Two legionaries were dozing on their pallets. There was a small table and some chairs in one corner and a small cooking stove in the other. There was also a doorway leading to another room directly behind it. In here, there were a number of shelves and bins. The shelves were set up for the soldiers to stow their body armor, helmet, and weapons. Five shields were standing up against the wall, and a bin in the corner held a number of javelins. Eight other bins were set up to hold all of the soldiers’ entrenching gear. Another was filled with palisade stakes. A door on the far wall of this room opened directly to the outside. Each recruit claimed a bin and a shelf and stored their gear as best they could. About this time, Statorius, Decimus, and one other legionary came in through the outside door. They wore fresh tunics and their hair was still damp from the bathhouse. Statorius’ arm was still in a sling, though he seemed to be refreshed and in a much fairer temper.

“Ah, I see you’ve found where we live and where all of your equipment goes,” he said.

“So what happens now?” Artorius asked, nervously.

“Dinner,” replied Statorius. He then called to one of the
legionaries asleep on his bunk. “Hey, Carbo! Get off your fat ass and get started on supper. It’s your turn today.”

Carbo, the l
egionary in question, groaned as if in pain and reluctantly rolled off his bunk. He then started the fire underneath the cooking stove.

“What’s with him?” Magnus asked.

“A little too much wine last night,” the legionary who came in with Statorius and Decimus said.

“And a little too much of that trashy tavern wench, Lolia” Decimus added, smiling fiendishly.

“I told you.” Carbo bellowed from the other room. “It was that tavern bitch and her sister.”

“Like hell it was,” the s
oldier piped in, “you were so wiped out last night that you were probably seeing double.”

Carbo grunted under his breath and started to place some wheat cakes and bacon onto the skillet, all the while grunting about
loose women and their sisters.

“Anyway
, lads,” Statorius started, “these are our newest recruits. Artorius, Magnus-who thinks he is a Norse warrior, and Gavius; meet Praxus. Of course, you have already met Decimus, and you’ve now been introduced to Carbo, sort of. The other poor sod passed out over there is Valens. I think he may have had a little too much of Lolia and her ‘sister’ last night.” He paused and then in a low voice asked Praxus, “Lolia doesn’t actually have a sister, does she?”

“I don’t think so,” Praxus answered.

“Hmm, anyway, once these new fellows get through the next eight weeks of training and officially become legionaries, we’ll actually have a full crew for once.”

“The training is eight weeks?” Gavius asked.

“Don’t worry, it goes by pretty fast,” Praxus said.

“
Plus, you’re too tired and wiped out every night to have any concept of time,” Decimus added with a smile.

“You’ll be alright,” Statorius said
. “Besides, the real beatings don’t begin until weapons drill in a couple of weeks.” Given their ‘warm’ reception at the hands of the decanus and Optio Valgus, the recruits did not like the sound of that.

“And
it never ends either. Especially with Vitruvius as our chief weapons instructor,” Decimus said, pointing to the bruises on the back of Carbo’s hand and forearm.

“Anyway, let’s eat,” Statorius said as he walked over and elbowed Valens in the ribs.

Training started early the next day. Statorius woke them all up well before sunrise, and instructed them to don their tunic, helmet, belt, and dagger and fall out outside in front of the barracks. Optio Valgus stood there waiting for them. He was dressed in full armor and he carried his staff with him. Antoninus came out from another section of the barracks to join them.

“Recruits,” Valgus said
, his voice hard, “today you will begin the transformation from civilians into soldiers. The first thing a legionary needs to be is strong in the mind and the body. During the first couple of weeks, we will condition both. To start the day off we will go for a little run.”

Valgus led them
on a jog around the inside of the fortress wall. The pace felt good at first to Artorius. He thought he was in excellent condition, but as they made each turn along the wall the pace quickened. On the final stretch, they were nearly at a sprint. Artorius was gasping for breath by the end of the run. He looked over to see that his fellow recruits fared little better. Though Valgus was laughing out loud, he did not look pleased.

“By
Apollo, how is it that you sorry lot can be winded after a mild jog? You are
pathetic.
Now get on your feet and start acting like legionaries, instead of like a bunch of whipped puppies.”

Without giving
them time to rest, he had them run over to the parade grounds. There were several heavy balls made out of hide lying off to one side, each weighing about thirty pounds. He paired them up and had them throw the balls back and forth to each other as hard as they could. Artorius found this to his liking. He paired up with Magnus, and he found it amusing that he almost knocked him down several times with the force of his throws. Of course, he soon began to tire and several times dropped the ball. This, in turn, brought a sharp rap across the back from Valgus’ staff. He never said anything, he would simply smack a recruit sharply each time one of them dropped their ball. Finally, when it seemed like none of them could even hold their arms up anymore, he gave the order for them to stop and rest. Artorius’ arms felt weak and his legs wobbly. He was strong, but he did not possess the conditioning he thought.