“You really didn’t expect me to tell you the truth did you?”
“If I had known what all was involved, I might have thought differently about it,” I retorted.
“Which is exactly why I didn’t tell you. I did you a favor Pullus.”
Somehow I did not see it that way.
In the predawn of the day of the conference, the Primus Pilus paid the Second Cohort a visit.
“Pullus,” Primus Pilus Favonius said without any preamble, “Caesar summons you. Get your gear on and meet at the Praetorium immediately.”
He turned to walk away, but then thought of something.
“And wear your dress uniform, with your decorations.”
There was no time to wonder what this was about; I had to dig my phalarae and plume out of my pack, where they were carefully wrapped in cloth to avoid rough treatment. I was just thankful that we had been idle for the last few days, since it gave me time to polish my decorations and clean my armor and helmet. Putting on the tunic I wore for inspections, I donned my gear then stood while the Pilus Prior came to inspect me by the light of the fire. Grunting, he said, “I suppose it'll have to do. Now hurry up and get over there!”
I made my way down the Cohort street and over to the Via Principalis, which leads directly to the Praetorium. Standing in front of the tent was a small group of men, all from the 10th, but from different Cohorts. With them was the Primus Pilus, who explained what we were doing.
“Each of you has been selected by your Cohort for a very important mission. Today is the day that Caesar is supposed to meet with that bastard Ariovistus.” We all nodded, this being common knowledge.
“That smug cunnus….suggested to Caesar that they meet only with an escort of ten men each. Caesar doesn’t trust him as far as he can throw him, and he thinks he’s up to something,” Favonius continued. “And we all know how useless our Gallic cavalry proved to be when we whipped the Helvetii,” this also was common knowledge and had been one of the reasons some of the men were scared. The Germans were reputed to have excellent cavalry, and ours had not acquitted themselves with any distinction against the Helvetii. “So Caesar is going to trick the trickster. Instead of those useless bastards, he wants boys from the 10th to accompany him. Each of you was put forward by your senior Centurion as being the best in your Cohort if it comes to fighting, so you’re going to be going with Caesar.”
Words cannot describe the feeling those words invoked in me, and even after all the awards and decorations I have won, that moment still ranks as one of my proudest. Even as I dictate this, I can feel the shiver of an absolutely delicious sensation of joy recalling these words. Finished with his instructions, the Primus Pilus led us over to the cavalry section, ordering us to pick a horse from the pool of spares, which is when I had my first moment of doubt. As was usual in the army, nobody had bothered to ask me if I even knew how to ride a horse, although in our training we were taught how to vault into the saddle wearing all of our gear. I could count on one hand the number of times I had actually gone for a ride on a horse and have all my fingers left over, and the thought that I would humiliate myself came bursting into my head. My heart started hammering as I gazed at the horses, pretending to consider which beast was best suited for me, and my only hope was that riding a horse was similar to riding a mule, because that I had done many times before I became too large for ours to carry me. With that in mind, I picked out a roan that was larger than the rest, thinking that it would not do to have a horse collapse under me because of my weight. The cavalrymen who had been roused to help us with our selection put my mind at ease a bit when I saw him nod with approval at the mount I chose.
“That’s a good strong horse you’ve chosen Gregarius,” he commented as he helped me saddle it. “He’s got a lot of bottom to him so you won't have to worry about him foundering.”
Nodded sagely, as if this were something more than just dumb luck, I leaped into the saddle with all the aplomb I could muster. Fortunately my luck held, the horse accepting me onto his back without rancor, just sidestepping a bit as he adjusted to my weight. Riding from the enclosure back out onto the street and down to the Praetorium, we stopped there to wait a few moments for Caesar. Dawn had now come, and the army was awake, with the men gathering to watch the procession leave the camp. Caesar came striding out, bedecked in his best uniform, a muscled cuirass made of silver, inlaid with gold, his helmet made in the same fashion, with a crest made of black feathers. Leaping onto his horse, he disdained the assistance offered to him, then pulled his mount around to inspect those of us who were to be his escort and were aligned in a single row to greet him. Sitting as erect as I could, my eyes were straight ahead as I sensed him moving towards me in the line. He said something encouraging to every man, complimenting them on their awards, or on their fierce countenance. When he pulled up to me, despite myself my gaze broke to look him in the eyes, immediately cursing myself for the breach in discipline, but he did not seem to mind, favoring me with a smile that made my heart soar.