Grinning, I called out to him loud enough for the others to hear, “Ave Didius. How long will it take me to make you my whore?”
This taunt brought a chorus of gasps and chuckles, and I saw Didius’ eyes narrow in anger.
“Why don’t you come and find out, you cunnus?” he snarled, to which I laughed and replied, “Be careful what you ask for, Didius.”
And before I finished saying his name, I struck. Despite the fact I am not as quick as Vibius, I am very fast, deceptively so, probably because of my size. Using the shield I banged into Didius hard enough to send him stumbling back a few feet, while I pressed the attack, slashing with the wooden sword instead of thrusting in the manner we were taught, smacking him hard on the arms and shoulders, causing him to roar in pain and anger. Lashing out wildly, he attempted to restore his equilibrium as I parried his blows contemptuously with my wooden sword, not even bothering to use my shield.
This drew a comment from the Optio, “Careful about showing off, Pullus,” he said evenly, “It’s sloppy and it can become a habit.”
Nodding that I heard him, I relented enough to allow Didius to regain his position, happy to hear that the cheering from the others was clearly in my favor. I decided to use that to my advantage.
“Hear that, Didius?” I asked, while I continued to circle him, “it sounds like your comrades don’t care for you too much.”
“What do I care about those cunni for?” he growled, which was met with the howls of derision that I expected it would invoke.
“Oh, I don’t know,” I kept my tone casual, “maybe because one day you’ll have to rely on them to save your life.”
Again, as I finished speaking I attacked, but this time Didius was prepared, managing to bring his shield up to meet mine and we crashed into each other, shield to shield, neither of us giving an inch. He was strong, I had to give him that, and I resolved that I would go ahead and show him that I was indeed stronger. Dropping my hips a bit before uncoiling my whole body, I let out a roar as I did so, and once again Didius went backwards, except this time instead of stumbling he fell flat. Immediately I leaped astride him, putting the point of the wooden sword under his throat.
“You make this too easy,” I told him contemptuously, then stepped away to turn to my comrades, raising my arms as if I were a victorious gladiator.
The blow was completely unexpected, and I dropped to my knees, my lower back on fire from where Didius had hit me hard along the kidneys. I would piss blood for a week from the blow, but he made a fatal mistake in not following it up, allowing me to get to my feet. Spinning around, I was angrier than I think I had ever been to that point, and there was complete silence as we faced each other.
“Who’s the whore now?” Didius taunted with an evil grin on his face.
Looking over at the Optio, he gazed back at me with an impassive face, but almost imperceptibly, I saw him nod. Taking this as permission to continue the fight, I did not bother to talk. Instead, I launched a massive attack, using both shield and wooden sword as offensive weapons, completely disdaining the defense and relying on the fury of my attack to protect me. Didius desperately parried my blows, backing up and giving ground, the only sound the thuds of wood hitting against wicker and wood and our harsh breathing. I was inhaling heavily, yet Didius was positively panting from the exertion of trying to meet my blows and keeping them from landing. Finally relenting, I waited for the moment I had planned when I first saw his telltale tilting of the shield. Now, because of his fatigue, it was tipped outward even more, for which he tried to compensate by pulling the top of the shield even closer to his face. Using a move that I learned from Cyclops and had once used on Vibius, I smashed down on the bottom edge of his shield with my own, pushing the top of his shield even farther out and down to expose Didius’ head, then once again I lashed out, smashing Didius’ nose with a backward slash to the face. And just like Vibius, his nose exploded blood as it was smashed flat against his face, whereupon he dropped his shield and wooden sword, falling to his knees and screaming in pain. At least, I thought to myself with satisfaction, Vibius had not acted like a little girl. Turning and walking back to my comrades, still panting with exertion and blood lust, this time I knew that he would not be getting back up. Our friends were still quiet; half of them seemed to be entranced by the sight of Didius, who was on his knees with his hands to his face, trying to stanch the flow of blood with little success. The others were looking at me, with expressions that were hard for me to place, a mixture of respect and….something else. Vibius was the only one who approached me, gently taking my weapons from me then patting me on the back.
“As much as I hate him, I do sympathize,” he said wryly. “I know what it’s like to be hit like that by you.”
“I hit him harder,” I replied simply, and he nodded his understanding.
“Thank the gods that you did that to him and not me."
Scribonius came up to us with a grin. “Remind me never to make you angry.”
The Optio had gone to Didius, trying to help him to his feet, which Didius angrily refused, getting to his feet on his own. Despite his voice being muffled by his hands, we could hear him clearly when he asked the Optio, “Well, are you going to do something? Isn’t there some sort of charge you can write against him?”
I was shocked, and apparently so was everyone else. The Optio asked with mild amazement in his voice, “And what, pray tell, would I write him up for?”
“What for?” Didius retorted, “You saw what he did to me. There are rules against striking the face and head in training.”
He was right; we had been briefed about the penalties for striking blows to the head and face of a fellow Legionary in training. For a moment, my stomach began to twist.
“There are also rules against striking a fellow Legionary when he’s not prepared,” replied the Optio calmly. “You had been knocked down, tiro Pullus bested you and the bout was over.”
“I didn’t capitulate,” Didius protested angrily, and now I could see that the Optio was beginning to get irritated himself.
“More fool you,” Vinicius retorted, “because Pullus had finished you. The fact that you’re too stupid to know it isn’t his or my fault. Now, follow me to the medici.”
He turned to lead Didius away, and as Didius was passing he stared at me with undisguised hatred. “This isn’t over,” he hissed, although it was hard to understand him because he was still clutching his face.
I merely smiled and replied, “Any time you want another beating I’m more than happy to oblige.”
He did not say anything else, instead following the Optio to the quaestorium where the doctors and medici were constantly busy patching men up. Our training is supposed to be bloodless combat, and our battle bloody drills, but sometimes, at least with the former, accidents happened and blood did flow.
As we watched them leave, Scribonius said quietly, “I’d watch your back if I were you.”
I nodded, and Vibius answered for me, “I’ll be there to do it, don’t worry about that.”
The pace of training picked up; we began doing a march three times a week, both to condition us and also to teach us how to make a camp, rotating the various jobs of building so that we learned everything we needed to about building one. We also began battle drills, Century against Century, which we all enjoyed the most, despite it also giving us the most bumps and bruises. Slowly but surely we were beginning to look more like a real Legion and not a great gaggle of fools who happened to be wearing the uniform of a Legionary. That was not the message that was being relayed to us by our Centurion, yet even so we could detect the slightest change in his tone with us. We were not raw tiros anymore, but not quite full Gregarii either, yet for most of us, the idea had become solidified that we would make it to the final swearing in ceremony. Most of us, anyway.