“Thanks for sharing,” Camillus retorted as the others chuckled amongst themselves.
“Who is running Artorius’ section for him right now?” Ostorius asked.
“Magnus,” Praxus answered.
“Who I think will probably stay there,” Rufio added.
“What do you mean?” Ostorius persisted. Rufio looked over in the direction Flaccus had gone. He could not see the Optio in the darkness, but he could hear him a ways off groaning loudly as he relieved himself.
“Flaccus’ time with us is getting pretty short,” Rufio said in a low voice. “Someone will have to replace him; and if I were a betting man, I would say that a young Decanus will be the most likely candidate.”
Chapter XVIII: Reunions
Diana rushed out the main gate as soon as she heard the sounds of horns being blown. She did not even try to hide her elation as she watched the rest of the Third Cohort marching towards the estate. At the head was her cousin, Centurion Proculus. She ran to him as soon as he had dismounted from his horse. He embraced her hard.
“I never thought I would see you safe again,” he said. “When I was only able to send one Century to help, I feared the worst!” He looked at his younger cousin with relief.
“We are alright,” Diana replied. “You obviously sent the best men you had.” Proculus smiled as he took her arm in his and walked towards the house.
“And what of the young hero who saved you?” he asked. “I have heard mention of his exploits.”
“His name is Artorius. He is one of your Decanii. Do you know him?”
“I know his reputation, though I have only met him a handful of times.” Diana looked vaguely disappointed at the answer. “Sorry my dear, but when you have potentially around four hundred and eighty men at your command, it is hard to get to know them all personally. As I said, I know him mainly by reputation. He is the Chief Weapons Instructor for our Second Century, and one of the best close-combat fighters in the region. In fact, you may remember he won the title of Legion Champion about three years ago, which he has held ever since. How is he doing? I hear he was wounded.”
“He is doing better, though he won’t be able to walk unassisted for some time. I have been tending to him.” She looked off into the distance as she said so. Proculus smiled wryly.
“Diana, do you mean to tell me you are falling for this young legionary?” Diana seemed taken aback by the remark.
“I don’t know,” she replied. “I mean, he did save my life, and our house. And even with that aside, I have always found his company to be pleasant. He is extremely intelligent, and you would be surprised at the amount of knowledge he possesses outside of the army. He recited to me a dissertation by Aristotle from memory on one of his errands out here. I must say, it is refreshing to meet a soldier who doesn’t completely devote his life to war.”
“So you are a bit taken by him?” Proculus persisted.
“I enjoy his company,” Diana answered with finality. “Yet he is still a plebian soldier, and I am of no use to men anyway…” Proculus winced. He often worried about his cousin. Her husband had divorced her upon learning that she could not have children; something that had made her feel like a failure in life, though as a divorcee she was left mostly self-sufficient from a social standpoint. Of course her barren condition would be known to any potential suitor, which made any match of potential worth impossible. No man would wish to marry a woman with whom he could not pass on his line.
Diana was a strong woman, though she was very much alone, and this troubled Proculus, as he cared for her deeply. He also worried about Diana’s younger sister, Claudia, who was betrothed to the tribune Pontius Pilate. He hoped that she did not bear her sister’s affliction as well. Though of the Equestrian class, Pilate’s career was on the rise and a match with him would benefit Claudia immensely.
“Since we will be staying here for a while, you will get a chance to continue to enjoy his company,” Proculus asserted. “I will see to it that he gets to finish his convalescing here with you, as you seem to be a better healer than my best surgeons.”
“I have arranged quarters in the main house for yourself and your senior officers,” Diana added as they walked through the main gate. Two sentries were on duty, both snapping to attention and saluting their Cohort Commander. Proculus removed his arm from Diana’s in order to return the courtesy.
“I am going to have the Cohort station itself in and around the estate. I want you to find the best cooks, butchers and bakers in town. While we are here, I want my men to be able to eat well and relax a bit.”
“Of course,” Diana replied. “And what of young Sergeant Artorius?” Proculus paused and frowned, pretending to be in deep thought.
“I will leave him to your care. Fortunately, none of my other soldiers were injured during the exchange. I have to say I am rather impressed. Once I have had a bath and something to eat, I will read the full reports on everything that happened.” He winked at his last remark.
“Sergeant Artorius reporting as ordered Sir.” In spite of his severe limp, and use of a walking stick, Artorius still managed to assume the position of attention and snap a sharp salute. Proculus sat behind a desk in an office that he had designed for his personal use when at the estate. Macro stood off to the side, behind Artorius, his hands clasped behind his back.
“Have a seat, Sergeant,” the Cohort Commander replied once he had returned the salute. Stifling a grimace of pain, Artorius eased himself into a waiting chair. Macro took a seat as well, though he remained silent. The conversation was strictly between the Decanus and the Cohort Commander. As Artorius’ Centurion, he was there primarily as an observer.
“It is quite the story that I have read in the official reports, as well as what I have gathered from other sources,” Proculus began. “Were it not for the fact that I saw over one-hundred dead gladiators and other rebel scum, and not one of my soldiers. It is baffling how one under strength Century can assault a fortified position, outnumbered, and yet come out victorious without a single fatality.”
“We had good leadership, and a good plan which we all executed with sound judgment,” Artorius replied, glancing over at Macro. Proculus waved a hand and Macro simply sat back in his chair and folded his hands in his lap.
“From the report given to me by your Centurion, the good leadership and sound judgment you speak of came from a small handful of men, led by one rather zealous Decanus.” Artorius fidgeted in his seat, not certain if this was a compliment or a reprimand.
“Tell me,” Proculus continued, “how is it that there were twenty men on the walls of the house, and yet your men managed to eliminate every last one of them without raising the alarm?”
“They were mostly drunk, my men are thorough, and I did wish to face a potential beating from Centurion Macro,” Artorius answered without missing a beat. Proculus raised his eyebrows at the reply and Macro cocked a half-smirk. They then went over in detail the entire raid. When it came to the point where the surviving gladiators tried to escape with Diana in tow, Proculus’ expression turned cold.
“Your actions up to this point were brilliant, Sergeant. However, at this time you elected to attempt to kill the main hostage taker with your bare hands, with an injured leg no less. Dear gods, what in Hades were you thinking?”
“Proculus, I gave Artorius permission to execute his plan,” Macro replied.
“Sir,” Artorius spoke up, “those men had no intention of ever releasing your cousin. So great was their malice and spite, that had we allowed them to leave, they would have cut her throat at the next opportunity. And I dare say they would have violated her in the process.” Proculus looked over at Macro, who nodded.
“Sergeant Artorius is one of the best hand-to-hand fighters in my Century, even with a bad leg. His idea, though reckless as it may seem, was the only chance Diana ever had. What’s more, it worked.” Proculus looked down and nodded his consent.