Making it to Cyclops’ farm about a third of a watch after dark, I stopped some distance away from the house and hailed it, because in those days walking up in the dark was a risky proposition, particularly with a man like Cyclops. I was pleased to see a light emanating from the window, telling me that they had not yet retired, and after a moment I saw the familiar face of my brother-in-law peer out from the doorway.
“Salve brother,” I called, and for the second time that day I could see someone’s face wrinkle up as they tried to determine who was calling them. Fortunately, it did not take him long, his face creasing in a smile when he recognized me. To get Cyclops to smile was enough of an accomplishment in itself, and it was just another pleasant moment of my return home.
One more time I found myself fussed over, although it was almost completely done by Livia, Cyclops content with a firm handshake and slap on the back. And once again, I sat at their table while Livia rushed about making something to eat, ignoring my protests that I had eaten not long before, as I recounted my tales to Cyclops. While still sanitizing my recounting, I was less circumspect with Cyclops than with Phocas and Gaia, until Livia let out a gasp at one of my anecdotes, whereupon I reined in my tongue once more. Cyclops and I exchanged a look as he rolled his good eye, shaking his head at the squeamishness of women. It is truly a mystery to me how women can go through the toil and bloody business of childbirth, yet the talk of lopping off some barbarian’s head gets them all aflutter. I suspect it is one of those things I shall have to ask the ferryman, or some of the wise men with whom I will be spending eternity. When Livia asked me if I had been home yet, I responded as briefly as I thought I could get away with, concentrating on my time with Phocas and Gaia, and only mentioning that I had seen Lucius. I was thankful when she did not press, but I could see by her face that I had not fooled her. Livia went to bed, but Cyclops and I stayed up through the night, and despite being happy to see my sister, I was also thankful for the opportunity to talk more freely about all the things I had seen and done, because I had questions that I felt only Cyclops could answer. I related to him how Gaius Crastinus spoke highly of him, and his face flushed with pleasure.
“Crastinus is a good man,” he said as he stared thoughtfully into his cup of wine, “you can learn a lot from him.”
“I already have,” I replied, “but I sometimes have trouble deciding whether I hate him or love him.” Cyclops smiled. “That means he’s a great leader, because you respect him out of equal parts love and fear. And in a place like the army, you have to have both.”
I could see the sense in this, and I said so. We spent the rest of the night drinking and trying to keep our voices down as we talked, with less and less success, until Livia threatened us with imminent bodily harm if we did not go to sleep.
Waking the next morning with a pounding head, despite the pain, I had to smile. It was good to spend time with Cyclops, this time as a man who finally understood all the things that he had been telling us. I have come to the conclusion that trying to describe battle to someone is much like trying to describe the act of sexual congress; no matter how imaginative one might be, the description pales in comparison to the actual event.
As I bade them farewell, now headed to see Valeria and her husband Porcinus, I thanked Cyclops for all that he had shown me. “It’s because of you that not only have I survived, but I’ve done well,” I spoke honestly. I could tell this pleased him, and he surprised me with a bear hug and a kiss on the cheek. “I'm proud of you Titus. I think you have a great destiny in the Legions.”
To say I was pleased would be an understatement. Kissing Livia, I waved goodbye as I started down the road, wondering if I could make it to Valeria’s farm before dark. It had taken more than a day to escort her to Porcinus’ farm on the day I delivered her to her new married life; this time, I wasn’t in a wagon with my sister, so I was confident I could make it, and I did, actually arriving well before sundown. For the third time, I went through the ritual of hugs, kisses and concern over my scar, yet I must say that this time was the most enjoyable. Valeria looked radiant, which I heard is how pregnant women were supposed to look, but I was scared to hug her for fear of hurting the baby.
“Titus, you’re not going to break me,” she laughed, though I was still not convinced.
And for the third time, I was stuffed with food; I ate more in the last two days than I had the previous week, but it was still good to have so much food before me. Porcinus never served in the army, and although I liked him well enough, there was not a lot to talk about with him since I held no interest in farming, but it was the thing in which he was most involved, so not much was said between us after the initial pleasantries. Besides, I was more concerned with talking to Valeria, yet I found for some reason that my reluctance to share details with the other people in my life about all that I had seen fell away with Valeria. I had always been completely honest with her about everything, and this time was no exception. To her everlasting credit, she did not flinch when I told her the things I had done, things like with the woman at the first town we assaulted; she just listened. Once I was done, it was well into the night, and when I bedded down in the main room, she came to kiss me on the forehead, just as she did when I was a boy. I remembered how the last year or two, I had done whatever I could to avoid it. This time I did not mind so much.
The day before we were to return to camp, I went back to Astigi to spend time with Vibius and Juno. It was clear that their feelings for each other were not changed, and in fact, had grown stronger. It was painful for me to watch, but it was also nice to see how happy Vibius and Juno were in each other. Watching them part was more upsetting than I imagined it would be, partly because I wished it were me that Juno was so distraught to see go, but also because I could only hope that one day someone would feel the same way about me. It also made me even more conscious of my obligation to Vibius to keep him alive so that he could return to his true love. I was also envious of the obvious pride that Vibius’ father had in his exploits, boasting to his friends about his son the Legionary and his great bravery, yet in this I was happier for Vibius than I was sorry for myself. Saying farewell, we made promises to write that we knew we probably would not keep, although I will say that Vibius certainly made a better attempt than I did. In those days, I had little interest in writing, or reading for that matter, although that would change, partly because once I rose through the ranks it would be required of me. However, another reason for my increased interest, especially in reading, had to do with what we were about to face now that the campaign was over, an enemy that would prove to be one of the most formidable that any soldier faces, no matter how many battles and campaign seasons they face.
When we made it back to camp, we found that the orders to break it down and begin the march to the northeast to our new home had been issued, so there was a swarm of activity. Vibius and I had agreed to say nothing of the trouble we experienced in Astigi, trusting in the Fates that word would not reach the ears of the Pilus Prior or any other officer, and it never did. The chatter of the men catching up on their various adventures during their respective leaves helped make the tasks of breaking the camp down less onerous and within two days we were ready to march, the only difference being that instead of burning down the camp like we normally did when we marched this camp was left intact, manned by a small guard left behind, along with a portion of the medici who tended to the sick and the men whose wounds were not yet healed to the point where they could travel. To my mind, and to those of my comrades, the fate of these poor souls was worse than death itself, for they existed between the two worlds. They had survived the initial threat of death but were now lingering on, not getting better or worse as the days crept by. Some of them finally showed up at Narbo, but even fully recovered they were never the same, and I think the idea of suffering this kind of fate scared me more than actually dying did. The march itself took three weeks, with the weather becoming bitter as we moved north along the coast, rapidly growing colder than anything most of us had experienced. This was far different in climate than the Hispania of our birth, despite the fact that we were still in the province for the most part. Neither Vibius nor I had ever been this far north, so we spent every night wrapped in our cloaks and wearing our extra tunics, but still our teeth chattered most of the night. Being as close to the coast as we marched did not make it any warmer because an icy wind blew off the water to further our misery.