Immediately after the words left his mouth, he realized that he was not helping himself, a look of helplessness and resignation coming back to his face, settling there and ultimately never leaving.
“So, once she saw you kill her father and brother, she started fighting back harder? Is that about the size of it?”
I was making no attempt to hide my contempt and anger now, seeing out of the corner of my eye the head of one of the Gauls turn towards me to study me, obviously trying to divine whether or not my outrage was real, or was a show for them. Atilius did not answer; there was need to, but I was not done.
“So she scratched you, and you cut her throat for it?”
He stared at the floor, refusing to meet my eyes, now fully understanding what awaited him. There was no question in anyone’s mind that Atilius’ fate was sealed, at least among his comrades. I am sure the Gauls still believed that we would pull some sort of trick and Atilius would escape the punishment he deserved. Oh, we might flog him, but there was only one real punishment that was worthy of his crime, and we all knew it. The question in their minds was if we Romans would carry it out.
With the interrogation done, I ordered Vibius, since he was the ranking Legionary, to bind Atilius, who submitted without protest. His tentmates surrounded him as we exited the house, followed by the three Gauls, and they immediately began calling for their friends and neighbors to surround us. In moments, before we could move halfway down the muddy street, we were completely encircled by a mob of very angry people. One of the three men, an older, scarred warrior with ginger colored hair and the long mustaches that was their mark of manhood, stood in front of me.
“Give him to us, Roman.”
It was a simple statement, not a request but a demand, and I felt my chest tighten. I knew we would give a good account of ourselves; I congratulated myself for making sure that the men donned their armor, weapons and shields, except there were only five of us, not counting Atilius, who I would only cut loose and arm as a last resort. No, I was going to have to use my brain for once. Stepping forward to stand directly in front of the Gaul, I positioned myself so that my men were directly behind me.
“No.”
I said it quietly, except my body language obviously sent a clear signal of my answer, causing the crowd to growl like it was some huge animal, which in a sense it was. Rome had disarmed all of the native townspeople except for the nobles and their household warriors some years before, but staves and axe handles are formidable weapons by themselves, and when there are a hundred or so people waving them about, someone is liable to get hurt.
The Gaul smiled grimly, then with a nod of his head, indicated the mob around us. “Perhaps you do not understand the situation Roman. That was not a request. We can take him. All I have to do is give the word. Now, give him to us.”
I stood looking him in the eye, not answering for a moment, then spoke quietly enough so that only he could hear. “He's going to die. And I can promise you that the manner of his death won’t be pretty. In fact, it’s going to be very much what would happen to him here, now, if we gave him to you and this mob. But this I will not do. He’s a Roman Legionary, and he’s subject to Roman military justice.”
He snorted, his lip curling up in a sneer. “So you say, Roman. But you know as well as I do that these things have happened before, and the men involved were never properly punished. You may have conquered us, but we will show you that just because you have a boot on our neck, it does not mean we will lick it.”
I could hear the bitterness, anger and frustration oozing through every word as he talked; I also knew that what he said was true, at least as far as Legionaries escaping punishment in the past. But the circumstances were different now; Gaul was conquered and we were ordered to ease up on the Gauls in order to try to win them over. The political situation dictated a change in the way we managed our relations with these people, and now that I was a Centurion, I was a representative of that new policy. However, I also knew that, just like Uxellodonum, there was a limit to how far we would allow ourselves to bend.
“Consider this,” I said, in the same tone as before, conscious that my next words could tip us off the sword edge we were balanced on, “you could probably take our man,” he snorted again at my use of the word probably, but like Rome I was only going to bend so far. I leaned forward a little and repeated, “You could probably take our man, but at what cost? How many bodies would we leave behind? There are only five of us, that’s true, but we’re Caesar’s men, and from Caesar’s most favored and feared Legion.”
I could see the beginning of doubt creep into his eyes, so I pressed harder.
“And the one thing I can promise and you know that it’s no idle boast, that you may win a victory here, but this whole part of Narbo, and all the people who survived this initial fight would cease to exist. Do you want to be the man who'll be known by his people from now until the end of time as the one who destroyed the Gallic quarter and everyone in it?”
He pursed his lips, then I saw his eyes dart around to the crowd, and I realized then that he was in as difficult a predicament as I was. True, he was the one to create this situation, yet now he was prone to being carried away by the flood just like we were. His status as a leader hung by a thread; if he was seen as weak, the mob was just as likely to turn on him as it was on us. Such is the changeable nature of the Gauls, as ever.
“What's your name, by the way?” I asked, startling him back to reality.
“Vetorodumnus,” he replied, clearly puzzled by my question.
“Well, Vetorodumnus, my name is Titus Pullus. I’m the Pilus Prior of the Second Cohort of the 10th Legion. I’m going to give you my word as a Roman Centurion that this man will be punished in a manner that you'll find suitable. Do you know what the punishment for rape and murder in the Roman army is?”
He nodded; it was well known throughout all of Gaul by this time the various punishments that we employed.
“If that's not the punishment rendered for Gregarius Atilius, then I'll return, and offer myself in his place for whatever punishment you deem fit as a substitute. Will you accept this?”
In truth, I was asking if the mob would accept this, except it served no purpose to make this fact obvious, because as tenuous a grip as he may have had on the mob, he still could call it down on our heads if I pushed him too far. The look of relief was momentary, but it was enough to tell me that I had given us both a way out of the immediate situation. He nodded, so I offered my hand, which he took solemnly. This quieted the crowd, sensing that something important had just happened. After we shook, he turned to address the crowd in his tongue, of which I knew just enough to determine that he was relaying the essence of our agreement. As he explained, I turned to Vibius and motioned for him to come to me. Quietly I told him what was happening, and I saw the warring emotions cross his face, all at once. We were friends too long for me not to know exactly what he was thinking. He understood that having made such a bargain, I ensured that Atilius would be executed, and that he and his comrades would have to be the ones to do it, beating Atilius to death, but not before breaking every bone in his body.
I will not describe in any detail the execution of Atilius, except to say that the sentence was carried out and that the men of his Century, including his oldest friends, as well as mine, did their duty. The one incident that I will describe happened the night before the sentence was carried out, when Vibius came to see me.