Inwardly I cursed; this was probably the fourth or fifth time he had asked me that question this night. Biting back a sharp retort, instead I sighed, “Yes Vibius. I have it in a safe place. It’s wrapped in the greased leather bag in the bottom of my pack. The same place it’s been the last four times you asked me about it.”
I could not resist this last gibe, but fortunately for both of us, and for the rest of the tent section, he was too agitated to take offense.
“I know, I know. I'm sorry I keep asking. It’s just that……”
“I understand,” I whispered.
And I did; if the truth were known, I had found myself wanting to ask him the same question about my will. As my designated comrade, one of the primary responsibilities we had concerning the other was keeping each other’s will in a safe place. Each of us was also responsible for carrying out the bequests made in the will, ensuring that we carried out the last wishes of our closest comrade and friend. We were ordered to draw up the wills in the days prior to starting our campaign, just another somber reminder that this was indeed serious business, and we did so with the guidance and help of our Sergeant, along with the Tesseraurius Cordius who had experience in these matters. One of the duties of the Tesseraurius, besides keeping the watchword, is to act as the Century’s banker, and also in the case where a man lost his comrade, hold the will of the lone man until he found another comrade to do so. Cordius was well liked and trusted by all of us, a critical trait for that position, almost as important as the ability to calculate sums. Both Vibius and I knew our letters, but neither of us had much practice at actually writing a document, a very common fact in the Legions. Some were even illiterate, so instead they dictated the terms of their will to their Tesseraurius who wrote it for them. Didius was one of those illiterates, a fact that brought on him much derision and jeers from the tent section, especially since each of us had been subject to his bullying or boasting. Consequently, this piece of information was filed away by all of us to bring up at opportune moments, much to Didius’ rage and consternation.
“And you remember what to do?” Vibius pressed and this time I could not keep a groan from escaping.
“By the gods, yes Vibius I remember!”
But he would not be satisfied just with that. “Tell me,” he insisted. “What are you supposed to do?”
Sitting up, I glared at him, although it was pitch black.
Since he obviously was just not going to let this go, through gritted teeth, I replied, “I’m to take your ashes not to your family, but to Juno and give them to her. Then I’m to tell her that she's no longer bound to you, and has your blessings and prayers for her happiness.”
“And what else?”
Sighing, my anger deflated; it was hard to stay that way when you were talking about your best friend’s possible death, especially when it was that same friend who brought it up.
“I'm to tell her you died well, facing the enemy. Even if………” I did not finish, because I did not want to.
“Even if it’s a lie,” he finished quietly. “I want her to always remember me in a good light, Titus. Surely you can understand that.”
I nodded, although he could not see me and responded, “Yes, Vibius I do understand that. It’s just that neither of those is going to happen. I won’t have to lie because you’re not going to die, and even if you do, you're not going to die with your back to the enemy. It’s just not in you.”
“I hope you’re right,” was all he said to that and I dropped back down on my cot, willing the time to pass more quickly.
Somehow I managed to doze off, because when the bucina sounded the signal for waking, I about jumped out of my skin. Sitting up, I heard the others rustling about, along with the cries and calls of the Centurions greeting their men that signaled the start of the day. Looking through the flap, I saw that it was still dark, which was not unusual. It was the shade of darkness that told me that we had been roused even earlier than normal. The one change from the night before was that now we were allowed to start fires and actually cook our breakfast. Immediately the men designated to cooking duty that day began gathering the ingredients from their comrades that would make breakfast. It would be the standard porridge, with salt bacon thrown in, and as many spices and flavorings as could be scrounged up. Soon enough, the smells of simmering porridge sent the signal to my stomach via my nose and despite my anxiety, I found I was famished. Since our officers evidently wanted us fortified with a good hot meal before battle, I felt obligated to eat, despite my misgivings. My comrades all seemed to feel the same way and more quickly than normal the porridge pot was emptied. Once we were finished, the Pilus Prior again summoned us in the darkness, although this time Optio Vinicius carried a torch, the light from it dancing on the rugged features of Pilus Prior Crastinus, the shadows accentuating even more the hook of his nose. One difference I noted immediately in his demeanor is that it seemed as if the invisible man waving the turd was given the day off, and he looked at all of us with an expression that we had not yet seen on his face. Could it be pride, I wondered? Might this man actually be proud of his Century and the men we were becoming? While the Pilus Prior was in direct command of our Century, he was also the senior Centurion for the entire Cohort, so he called for the entire Cohort to be assembled to ensure that he only had to relay orders one time.
“As I told all of you last night,” his voice rang out, “we've been selected by General Caesar to be the assault element on the walls of the town, while the 8th Legion will be conducting a simultaneous assault on their front gate. Our assault is going to work like this. First, Second, Third and Fourth Cohort will be first over the walls. The First and Second Maniple of our Cohort, commanded by me will scale the walls, while the Third Maniple will provide covering fire at the base of the hill. Once we're over the Third Maniple will follow suit. We'll be followed by the other Cohorts, in numerical order. An artillery barrage will precede the assault, and all the Scorpions for both the 9th and 10th are being assigned for our use. They'll station themselves on a small rise a couple of hundred paces away, and they'll be providing close support, only lifting their fire when we begin climbing the ladders. That should make those bastards keep their heads down while we take care of business.”
He paused for a moment to let all of this sink in. I cannot say I was surprised that we would be the first over the wall but it was still a frightening prospect. Continuing, “There's also been a slight change from what I described to you last night. Instead of acting as our reserve, the 9th is going to march to the far side of the hill, in order to ensure that there's not a sortie by the enemy from the rear gate, or any escape when we take the town.”
This last piece of news caused some heads to turn as we looked at each other, aware of the import of what he had just said. It did not appear that we were going to let anyone escape if we could help it. Sometimes defenders are allowed to flee, in order to avoid facing an enemy that will fight that much harder knowing that certain death or slavery awaited them. Giving them an open escape route meant that there was an alternative for them, and would encourage them to give up the fight more easily. However, because these people were technically in rebellion, Rome declaring this region pacified some years ago, these people were not going to be given that option. In such ways are examples made that discourage those people foolish enough to think that they can escape Rome’s dominion.
“So tonight, when we're victorious,” his eyes narrowed and his voice took on a hard quality, even more than his norm, “and we will be victorious, we’ll be spending the night under a roof, in a nice bed, and maybe there'll be a woman beside you. Willing or not,” he finished with a wolfish smile. The Cohort burst out into a cheer, then we were dismissed to go don our armor and gather ourselves for the coming trial.