“Please.” The legionary begged, the others looked at him expressionless, “We don’t want to hurt you, we were told to come here. We don’t have a choice when we’re ordered by our officers. We’ll leave, just please let us go I beg you, we’re engineers, we just build things.”
“And what if you are told to return? You will do as you are asked, you just said that, you are a soldier, you have no choice.” Dumnoc said. He turned to the assembled warriors stood watching, they stared expectantly at him waiting to be told to execute the prisoners.
“Remove their right hands,” He instructed, “that way they won’t come again.”
Some of the legionaries screamed and tried to fight or escape but they were quickly overpowered. Others were simply too shocked by what was about to happen to them and awaited their fate in silence. As Dumnoc turned and began to walk away, the screams intensified, he suspected that even the quieter ones were now voicing their pain.
Chapter Twelve
“This is bollocks sir.” He looked at the centurion, “and I mean that with no respect whatsoever by the way,” Grattius remarked frowning as they neared the stone barrack block via the parade ground with Optio Ancius. It was just before dawn and the sun was showing signs of another day as streaks of light began to appear above.
“Orders are orders Grattius,” Varro replied, “anyway we can’t have soldiers going about stabbing each other, there won’t be any left to face the Britons.” He smiled.
“I still think it’s a job that could have waited for someone else to do or even the primus pilus. It could start all sorts of problems this between the centuries.” Grattius muttered.
“Sir if you wouldn’t mind.” Ancius interjected and stopped walking, Varro turned pausing.
“What is it Optio?” He asked curtly becoming frustrated with Grattius’ complaining.
“Well sir, Legionary Abudius is one of my men, it might be better if I went in first, you know, friendly face. Might help if you know what I mean?”
Varro considered his suggestion, “Mm you’re probably right, we’ll be right behind you, no funny business, understand?” He turned to Grattius, “And no more moaning from you.”
“Of course sir wouldn’t dream of it.” Ancius said, “Anyway he’s not got anywhere to go and I’m not risking my record for the likes of him, no. He’s got what’s coming, can’t be helped.” Ancius replied as they continued walking. The main door to the block was closed and creaked as they entered. Lines of double bunks were situated along either side of a narrow walkway down the middle of the block, the room smelt of stale clothes, sweaty bodies and wind of the human variety. Armour was piled up in-between the bunks against the wall. Optio Ancius removed a lit oil lamp from near the door frame. “Hope I don’t set off all the gas in here.” He said venturing further into the room.
“He’s down here sir,” He pointed, “lower stall.” He said indicating with his head, they followed the optio between the bunks in the dim light. A sleeping legionary rolled over and let out a loud brace of farts, another murmured an insult in his sleep.
“Oh charming.” Grattius whispered.
“Here he is sir.” Optio Ancius said faintly, pointing out the sleeping form of Legionary Abudius. He leant forward and shook him by the shoulder. He grunted and turned to face him but didn’t open his eyes.
“Abudius wake up.” Ancius said talking normally.
“Mother.” Abudius replied.” Grattius smirked.
“I’ll mother you in a moment if you don’t wake up.” Ancius said.
“Optio,” he said, trying to open his eyes, “is it morning already, what are you doing here?”
Ancius shook him again, “On your feet lad, there’s a centurion here to see you.”
Abudius squinted and then opened his eyes fully and took in the sight of the two officers with Ancius, a resigned look of recognition dawning on his face.
“Bollocks.” He muttered and swung his legs out of the bed. He went to get his equipment but Grattius blocked his route.
“Tunica and caliga only,” he told him, tunic and boots, “You won’t need anything else where you’re going.”
The young soldier looked to his optio for an explanation, “They know you killed that lad the other night son, I’m sorry but there’s no more I can do for you. It’ll be for the Legate to decide and then the Governor probably.”
“It was an accident, he came at me. I didn’t mean to kill him.” He said anxiety over his face. “What will they do to me?” He said collecting his tunic off the ground and pulling it over his head.
“As your Optio just said soldier, it’s not a matter for him or for that matter, us either. We’re here to escort you to the stockade, now get your boots on.” Varro said as Abudius sat on his bunk tying his leather laces up.
“I’m fucked aren’t I sir?” He looked up at Varro, tears in his eyes.
“It’s not up to us Legionary Abudius, are you ready?” He asked. They led the legionary out of the barrack block, just as a trumpet somewhere outside on the rampart sounded the dawn call and the others began to stir. They escorted the prisoner over to the guardhouse where the stockade was situated. A note was recorded on the log of his admittance by Varro and for the crime of which he was suspected, murder of a fellow soldier.
“Right in you go.” Grattius said opening the thick wooden door of the small cell. Abudius looked inside and saw a small thin cot at ground level, a bucket and a high window that at least let some light in. He turned to his optio and said, “Sorry,” as the door was shut behind him.
“Stupid bastard!” Grattius said as the three officers returned to the duty centurion’s bunk, while Varro gave a further explanation to the night staff.
“I wouldn’t like to be in his boots.” The centurion of the watch said after hearing the report, “The last one accused of murdering another legionnaire was executed in front of his entire century, ruined morale for months.”
“Bad business all round,” Varro said, “and for what, some dirty whore by the sound of things?” He turned to the two optios, “Right now that’s out the way perhaps we can get on with our own duties.”
Two days later, Varro and Grattius were summoned by the Governor of Roman forces in Britannia to give their assessment and knowledge of the incident that had led to the death of a legionary in their garrison, or so they thought. Optio Grattius wasn’t happy at the prospect.
“I knew this wouldn’t end with that little bastard getting locked up and now look.” He gestured with a flailing arm as they rode slowly east, “all the way to Londinium to see none other than Aulus Plautius, gods above and below, nothing good will come of this, you mark my words.” He said muttering away to himself.
“He’s a good man,” Varro said chewing on a piece of salted beef and patting his horse Staro, “I met him not long after the initial landings. He probably just wants a report first hand. After all he’s to decide whether Abudius lives or dies. It can’t be an easy decision even for him.”
“Mm maybe so but that doesn’t make it any easier, I’d rather be heading in the other direction if you know what I mean.” Grattius said taking in the countryside around them. “Been to Londinium before then?”
“No, first time. I’ve heard it’s grown significantly though since the Governor moved from Camoludunum a few years ago.” Varro replied. “It’s said to be so big there’s no wall around it, not that it’s in any danger they say, being so far east away from the conflict.”
In time they began to see unnatural objects on the horizon and as they got closer, they saw that there were huts and roundhouses in settlements, plumes of smoke rose to the heavens. The once solid tracks became mud paths the closer they got and the stench of the outlying districts grew as the roundhouses were replaced by more wooden huts and then small brick buildings came into view. They walked their horses parallel with the river Temasis Thames, said to be one of the longest stretches of water on the island, it had got its name, meaning dark, due to its dirty content. It never ran clear.