Arriving at the gate, we stopped a short distance away, not wanting to just walk up on some guard who might be half-asleep and would kill us before our career even started, so we sat on the ground, waiting for the light to become strong enough so that we could approach without fear. While sitting there, we made out other shapes of men approaching, then heard them talking quietly, as the others who enlisted the day before began to show up. Vibius and I smugly but quietly congratulated ourselves for being the first to arrive, making no sound to alert the others to our presence, though I do not know why. Instead, we sat listening, learning about our fellow tiros as they talked among themselves.
“So what do you think it'll be like?”
This from a high-pitched, nervous sounding voice.
“It’ll be the hardest thing we’ve ever done,” came the response from a grim-sounding deeper voice.
“By the gods,” came another, “I can’t wait to kill some barbarian scum! I bet I have the most kills of anyone in this Legion!”
Both Vibius and I glanced at each other, and despite barely seeing the other in the gloom, I could tell we were both making a mental note of that voice. We wanted to see this mighty warrior for ourselves as soon as it was light.
“Gerrae! That’s awfully big talk,” replied the grim-sounding voice, which I could just begin to make out as a shape against the slowly lightening sky.
It was hard to tell from my vantage point sitting on the ground, but he seemed to be nearly as tall as I was.
“You’ll probably be the first one to piss yourself the instant one of those barbarians looks at you cross-eyed.”
“Watch your tone, you! I’ve beaten better than you, I swear by Hercules I have!”
This from the great warrior, although I sensed a note of uncertainty, despite the brave words.
“That’s easy to say,” said the other coolly.
“Easy boys,” this came from a previously unheard voice. “There'll be plenty of time enough for everyone to get as much fighting in as any man could want.”
This voice sounded older, more confident. The others seemed to sense it as well, and consequently there was no more bickering. Besides, the light was growing, so that what were indistinct shapes before took on more definite form, and the areas of the camp that were not illuminated by torchlight earlier could now be made out. At that, Vibius and I stood from where we were sitting completely silent, causing our new companions to yelp in alarm and jump away. I could not help noticing that the one who yelped the loudest was also the one bragging, but I held my peace. No need to make enemies so early, I thought. One day I might be fighting beside that man. Stepping forward, I called to the other men; I could now see that there were a total of six other men standing there.
“Salve, citizens,” I called with what I hoped was a tone of friendliness.
They returned the greeting in a ragged chorus.
As I got closer, one of the other men exclaimed, “Gods, you ARE a big one, aren’t you? Remind me to stand next to you Ajax.”
This brought laughter from the others, and I joined in since I had been teased about my size my whole life. The man I thought might be my height was tall, though nowhere near as tall as I was; I had a good two to three inches on him. Standing for a moment, we surveyed each other now that the light was strong enough, but before we could speak, we heard the sound of a call inside the camp, then the gates opened, each half pushed open by a man dressed in armor and full kit.
“Well,” I said, “I guess that means they’re ready to receive us.”
And without waiting, I began walking towards the gate, where a third man appeared, standing in the middle of the gateway, hands on his hips. As we drew closer, I could see that while he was in basically the same uniform as the other two, his helmet was different. He wore a crest of horsehair, transverse across the helmet, going from ear to ear. His face looked like wrinkled leather, the kind one sees after wearing a set of shoes for a long time in all types of weather. In one hand was clutched a stick of some sort, which he was slowly twitching against his leg as he watched us approach. He was short, but very stocky, and once I got close enough I could see that on one arm a livid scar ran from his elbow all the way down his forearm, slowly twisting until it stopped just above his wrist. I had trouble taking my eyes off of it, but when I did and looked the man in the eye, I saw no welcome in his expression. In fact, if I were to characterize the look on his face, the best I can conjure is to ask you to imagine that a numen or other invisible shade is hovering just in front of him, holding a huge, steaming pile of cac under his nose, cac that only he can smell. That was how he looked at us, and I was soon to find out that my description was not far off from the truth, except that the pile of cac was actually us.
“All of you fall in, in a single line starting right here, with the tallest first to my left,” he pointed to a spot with his stick, and I headed that way, knowing already that this would be my spot.
His voice sounded like he had eaten gravel for breakfast, with his tone matching the look on his face, and he obviously was not pleased with what he saw. We struggled to get into the proper order; my part was easy but the others had to gauge each other to determine exactly where they were supposed to be. After a couple of moments, we were more or less settled into a line, and I looked over to my left to see where Vibius ended up. Suddenly, I was slammed in the stomach by something that felt very much like a dagger, except it was blunt and the wind rushed out of my lungs as I dropped immediately to my knees, gasping for breath and clutching my stomach expecting to feel blood, so sure I was that I had been stabbed. Seeing a pair of boots in front of me, much like the pair that Cyclops wore, I looked up to see the Legionary with the stick in one hand, tapping the other end of it into the palm of his other hand as he looked down at me with a sneer on his face.
“Nobody told you to look around, did they you cunnus?” he snarled, his voice even more gravelly than before because he pitched it loudly enough for all to hear.
Not sure what to say, I shook my head. Instantly, the stick lashed out, catching me just above my ear, causing stars to explode in my head.
“I asked you a question, boy,” he roared, and now more afraid than any time I could remember in my life, I answered quickly, “No, sir…..I mean, Your Excellency.”
WHAM! Another blow, this time on the top of my head, and now I felt something more than fear, as I began to get angry. Was there no pleasing this man?
“I work for a living, you cunnus,” he bellowed at an even louder level, which I had not thought possible if I had not heard it. “I’m no Excellency! You’ll address me by my proper title.”