Malchus scoffed, showing his disinterest in how his men spent their time. ‘So the quartermaster’s bent?’ he said instead. ‘Who’d have fucking thought it.’
‘Just trying to make a living, sir,’ Titus appealed, strong man to strong man. ‘Happy to help others make theirs.’
Malchus smiled darkly then. It was a terrible thing to see. ‘I couldn’t give a fuck if every man gambles away their last coin,’ he said, approaching Titus. ‘But there’s one thing I won’t put up with,’ he added calmly. ‘And that’s being fed FUCKING DOG MEAT!’
The sudden blows landed a second later. Against Titus’s thick muscle and skull, they sounded like artillery hitting stone battlements. The big man had the sense to go down.
‘Feeding me fucking dog?’ the centurion snarled, standing over him. ‘Putting dog on the plate of the FUCKING PREFECT? Are you out of your minds, you greedy bastards?’
From the floor, Titus spat blood and words. ‘Plancus!’ He roared. ‘I’ll fucking kill you!’
Every set of eyes turned towards the stooped veteran – there was no disguising the look of guilt that hung over his weathered face.
‘You cunt!’ Metella roared, charging for the man.
It took four soldiers to hold her back. As she was restrained, Malchus watched her struggle with a smile. Then he turned to a veteran beside him.
‘No need for names and units of the others in here. Just rough them up a bit, but not enough that anyone has to miss a duty.’
‘Yes sir,’ the veteran replied, before stepping forwards to carry out the order. ‘You heard the boss.’
He then addressed those of us standing against the wall. ‘Just suck it up and we’ll be done in a second. Now face the wall,’ he commanded and, like well-trained animals, we turned our backs, and tightened our muscles against what was to come.
The punishment arrived a moment later, the wooden stave crashing against my hamstrings, pain singing through my legs and into my back. Anxious to avoid a second blow I dropped to my knees, submitting to the legion’s discipline, and the power that it held over every part of my life.
‘You’re done,’ the veteran announced after a second blow had landed. My punishment received, I pushed myself up on to throbbing legs. The beating had been merciful, and yet as I looked around me, I now felt nothing but sickness and fear in my stomach.
Because Titus was gone.
57
Titus was not the only familiar face missing – Metella and Plancus had disappeared with Malchus and his soldiers, and that could only mean that there was further punishment planned for the ringleaders. Titus would certainly lose his rank, but beyond that? I had no more time to think on it.
‘Brando,’ I called. ‘Micon. Come help me.’
They followed me into the engineering equipment room, puzzled at first as to why I was pulling the bundles of staves from the shelves.
Stumps smiled with relief as he saw our faces. ‘I’m quite comfortable in here. Shut me back in and let me sleep.’
We said nothing. Levity slipped from our friend’s voice as he recognized the warning signs.
‘Titus?’ he asked, immediately worried.
‘And Metella and Plancus.’
‘Shit,’ Stumps groaned, gasping as we uncoiled him from his hiding place and placed him on the ground. ‘Gone with Malchus? That can’t be good.’
There was no reply to be made to that.
‘What can we do?’ he asked.
‘I don’t know,’ I told him honestly. ‘But we’ve got the walls tonight. If we don’t report for duty, we’re in bigger shit than Titus.’
‘We could talk to Albus? Maybe he’ll do something?’ Brando asked.
‘He’ll do nothing.’ I was certain. ‘He just wants an easy life.’
And so it proved when we returned to the barrack block.
‘Centurion Albus wants to see you,’ the century’s young runner summoned me.
‘Felix,’ Albus greeted me in his quarters. ‘Look, this is nothing personal,’ he then began. ‘I know you’ve got shitloads of experience, but you were the last one here to get made up to section commander, and we’re half a century. I need to consolidate the sections, and so you guys will go into what will now be Two Section, under Livius. The good news is that it’s just the three of you. I pulled some strings and got your mate Stumps back into the quartermaster’s.’ Albus smiled, unaware that Titus was now likely in chains.
‘Thanks, sir,’ I muttered, my mind elsewhere. Albus took my indifference for offence.
‘It really is nothing personal,’ he insisted. ‘But last in, first out. I can’t be fairer than that.’
‘It’s fine, sir,’ I told him. ‘I’ll get our kit moved across before watch.’
‘No need for that.’ He waved my suggestion away. ‘We’re only a half-century, so may as well use the space we’ve got. Just pop your head in and link with Livius.’
I did. Livius was an athletic-looking soldier in his mid-twenties. From the little that I had seen of him, he seemed capable. He was also acute enough to smell the salt on me, and know that I was as experienced as any man in the fort.
‘I think there’s a lot I can learn from you.’ The man had smiled, attempting to soften the blow of my demotion.
I couldn’t have cared less for the loss of position. My mind was pulled in every other direction within the fort – what was happening to Titus? Where was Linza, and what was she thinking? Was she thinking about me, and if so, in what manner?
I got the answer to at least one of these questions as I stood watch on the darkness of the battlements, the German cold whipping across my skin and tugging at the scarf I had pulled tight about my face.
I was stamping my own feet to move the blood when I heard other footsteps approach – Centurion H, his face framed by moonlight.
‘That is you under there, isn’t it Felix?’ he asked, and I pulled the scarf down to show him.
‘Why are you up here, sir?’ I asked, puzzled.
‘I thought you should be told before the parade in the morning,’ he explained. ‘You’ll be going there as soon as it’s light, and the watches are changed.’ H’s tone was grim, and my stomach tightened at the implication.
‘What parade?’ I managed.
‘Punishment,’ he told me heavily. ‘They’re putting your friend to death.’
58
I struggled to comprehend the centurion’s words – Titus, sentenced to death?
By the grey moonlight, H saw the fear and confusion that danced across my cragged features.
‘Prefect Caedicius wants to make an example of him.’
‘It’s just gambling,’ I protested. ‘It’s in every legion!’
‘It’s not that.’ H shook his head. ‘They were taking the good ration of meat for the officers, and selling that on. Replaced it with dog.’ He grimaced, doubtless thinking of what rested inside his own stomach.
‘That wasn’t Titus,’ I swore, certain of it. ‘He’s no fool.’
‘Wasn’t the woman, either,’ H agreed. ‘Titus’s partner Plancus has copped to it, but it doesn’t matter. Prefect wants an example. I expect Malchus just wants someone to die because he was tricked, and ate it.’
I placed my javelin against the wall, and pulled my hand across my face, willing my emotions to quieten. Dawn was only a few hours away, and the death of my friend would come with it. There had to be some way out.
‘How will they do it?’ I forced myself to ask.
‘Beheading,’ the centurion answered coldly. ‘It’s a mercy, compared to what Malchus wanted.’