Quietly he walked towards her, using a rail to support himself. When he was near, she spun around, her dagger coming straight for him. In a flash his gladius, which he wore out of habit, was out and he blocked the blow. A sinister smile crossed Diana’s face as she followed up with two quick jabs and a backhand slash. Artorius blocked all of these easily enough, though he was surprised by her speed and tenacity.
“You have a natural skill with a weapon,” he said calmly. Diana, with equal calm, sheathed her dagger as Artorius returned his gladius to its scabbard.
“When you live on an estate, you tend to grow soft. If you want to leave that estate, you must remain sharp, both in wit and physical tenacity,” she replied. She cocked her head slightly as she leaned against the rail.
“They say you are one of the best close combat fighters to have ever lived,” she continued. “Sorry if my way of testing that seemed a little barbaric.” Artorius smiled and shook his head.
“Not at all. I too must remain sharp and tenacious, if I am to return to the legions as anything useful. Tell me, what kept you from using your weapon against your assailants when the gladiators took over your estate?” Diana hung her head, frowning.
“Don’t think that I did not want to. I am utterly shamed by my lack of action, for I failed in my charge. However, I also knew that had I lashed out against them, they would have killed me right then and there. I flatter myself that I am stronger than most and unafraid to fight. However, I am still a woman and I do know my physical limitations.”
“What if we got rid of those limitations?” Artorius asked. Diana looked at him puzzled.
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“Brute strength alone does not make one a good fighter,” he replied. She laughed as he said that.
“Kind of an odd thing for someone your size to say, don’t you think?” Diana gazed at his thick, muscular frame as she said that. His tunic was tight-fitting in the chest, and his arms looked as if they were about to rip right through the short sleeves. Given the size of his powerful muscles, she figured he had to outweigh most men of his height by a good fifty pounds easily. Artorius looked himself over and shrugged.
“Well it does help,” he answered. “What I’m getting at is that aside from strength, there is speed, agility, stamina and above all skill required to make a good fighter. When we fought in Germania a few years ago, almost all of us were dwarfed in size by the barbarians we fought. In spite of this, we still destroyed them with what some would consider contemptuous ease.”
“So what are you suggesting?” Diana asked, smiling wryly. Artorius returned the smile and drew his gladius once more.
Felix woke from his slumber to the sound of the door creaking open. He tried to sit upright as Centurion Macro walked in, but the pain in his abdomen prevented him from doing so. Tierney placed a protective hand on his shoulder.
“Centurion Macro, sir,” Felix said through clenched teeth as he fought through the pain.
“How are you, Felix?” Macro asked as Tierney applied a damp cloth to the legionary’s forehead.
“I’ve been better, sir,” Felix replied, forcing a smile. Macro then turned his gaze towards Tierney. The young Gallic women glanced up at him and swallowed, not sure what to make of the Centurion.
“You are the one whose sister my legionary swore an oath to protect,” he said after a brief pause. Tierney lowered her head, suddenly feeling like she was on trial.
“Forgive me,” she replied, “I did not know who else to turn to. All I wanted was to save my little sister…dear Kiana.” She tried to force the tears back, but to no avail; images of Kiana’s slain body clouded her vision. Macro placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
“You have done no wrong, child,” he said. She looked up at him once more. “We do all we can to protect those we love. I am sorry for your loss.”
“As much as it pains me to admit this,” Tierney began, “Kiana brought about her own death. Her mind was poisoned beyond the ability to see reason. I only hope that she found some redemption before the end.”
“She did,” Felix spoke up. “She tried to save me before…” he elected not to finish the sentence.
“The Lady Diana also said your sister made things right before the end,” Macro said. Tierney tried to smile through her tears. The Centurion then motioned towards the door with his head. “Leave us; I wish to speak with Legionary Felix alone.”
“Yes sir,” Tierney replied eyes on the floor as she left. As soon as the door was closed Macro turned back to his stricken soldier once more.
“I am sorry sir,” Felix said when Macro did not speak further. Macro looked at him inquisitively.
“What do you have to be sorry for?”
“I failed, sir. I failed to keep my oath; I let Kiana die. And I am of no use to you in my present condition.”
“The doctor says your wound will heal over time,” Macro interjected. “So you just might be of some use to us after all.” A half grin on the Centurion’s face put Felix at ease. “You did all you could, son. Your promise to Lady Tierney may have been foolish, but I cannot fault you for it.”
“She’s not Lady Tierney, sir,” Felix corrected. “Her father disowned her.”
“So he did,” Macro replied with a contemplative frown. “His loss; she is a good woman. She would have come herself to try to save her sister, had she the means to do so. As I was saying, I cannot fault you for the promise you made. You did what you knew was right.”
“Thank you sir,” Felix replied, forcing a partial smile through his pain.
“Just know that if you make any more such promises of this magnitude without consulting me or Sergeant Praxus, I’ll reopen that wound of yours!” Macro called over his shoulder as he left the room. Tierney was waiting outside, her head lowered, fidgeting with her hands. Macro gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder and nodded for her to go back into the room. She immediately rushed inside, closed the door, and knelt by Felix’s side, taking his hand in hers.
“Is everything alright?” she asked. Felix replied with a smile.
“Everything’s fine, love.”
Artorius watched as the Third Cohort formed up and made ready to begin its long march back to the Rhine. Replacements from the Second Legion, Augusta had already taken over their billets in Lugdunum. He was still unable to walk without the aid of a crutch, and he knew it would be some time before he was fit to march any distance at all. He limped his way over to the Second Century, to say goodbye to his friends. It would be at least several weeks before he was fit to travel again, even by horse.
“Take care of the men while I am gone,” he told Magnus as he clasped his hand. His friend nodded in reply.
“I think we may just be able to survive without you.” Artorius laughed and shook his head.
“Think of it as your first chance at independent leadership,” he replied. “I already told Flaccus you would assist him with recruit training as well, should we pick up any recruits while I’m gone.”
“Just don’t enjoy yourself too much, old friend,” Magnus remarked. “Okay, perhaps just a little bit! We all know that Lady Diana has quite the affection for you. All the lads have seen it.” Artorius’ face turned red.
“You read too much into things, Brother. She may be grateful to me, and she is kind enough, but there is no affection there, trust me. You know she has asked me to teach her how to fight with a gladius?” It was Magnus’ turn to laugh.
“Just make sure she doesn’t hurt you too bad,” he said. “She looks like the type that could give many of the lads here a run for it.”