“Speaking of Magnus, is he coming with us?” Praxus asked.
“I’m still fighting that issue with Macro,” Artorius replied, “but I’m sure he’ll relent if I keep on him. Remember, I was his optio at one time. I know how to compel his better judgment.”
“That will leave three other centurion vacancies,” Praxus remarked. “I wonder who they will choose to fill those. I don’t think they will allow any more to come from the Twentieth.”
Artorius replied, “Most likely I will expend what good will I have left with Macro once I convince him to let me take Magnus. We’ll know more once we get to Ostia. Pilate’s taken the liberty to screen officers from the eastern legions. I hope he can convince Justus Longinus to join us. He’s spent almost his entire career in the east and he’s far more knowledgeable than any of us as to the customs and quirks of all the peoples in the region. The centurions will, of course, be allowed to choose their own options, who will likely come from the same legions as them. Speaking of which, you need to start looking at who yours is going to be.”
“I never thought about that,” Praxus thought aloud. “This is all coming pretty quick. One minute I hear you’re leaving for Judea, the next I find out I’m not only going with you, I’m also going as a centurion! Well, at least Lucilla and I can make our marriage legal now!”
“Ah yes,” Artorius said with a smile.
Praxus had started seeing a woman a number of years before that he had met when assisting her father in subduing a pair of thieves that tried to steal his horses. The men were subsequently crucified, and Lucilla’s father had been so grateful that he tried to offer his daughter up to Praxus right there. They now had a five-year-old son and three-year-old daughter. It seemed most of Artorius’ friends had families. Though he and Diana could not have children, there was their adopted son, Metellus, who was also Artorius’ biological nephew. Only Magnus remained a bachelor, though with the amount of time he was spending with a childhood friend of his sister’s named Ana, it was speculated to only be a matter of time.
“Now my children can also be legitimized,” Praxus said with his brow furrowed in contemplation. “I’m off to tell Lucilla to start packing. Need to look at selling our house, too.”
“We’ve got a month before we need to set off, so you’ve got time,” Artorius replied. “Diana’s already looking at buyers for our manor.”
“Yes, give my best to Lady Diana when you see her,” Praxus said over his shoulder as he walked away.
It was dark when Artorius returned to his manor house. The howling wind had increased, and rain was starting to beat against the roof. His Jewish manservant, Nathaniel, greeted him wordlessly, taking his cloak. He had not yet told the slave that they were returning to the land of his birth.
“Master,” another voice said. It was Proximo, who had been Diana’s family slave for a number of years. Though given his freedom two years prior, like many, he continued to stay in the employ of his former masters.
“Good evening, Proximo,” Artorius said formally. “I trust you have my supper ready.”
“Yes, sir. The Lady Diana is out. She said you would wish for some private time with your guest.”
“What guest?” Artorius asked, puzzled. “I was not expecting anyone.”
“Only me.” It was his son, who Artorius greeted with a laugh and strong embrace. Before his adoption, Metellus had served as an auxiliary soldier, but since became a legionary once confirming his status as a Roman citizen. Though since joining the legions, he had been assigned to a different cohort and so the two rarely saw each other.
“Let me guess, you wish to come to Judea, too.”
“Where you go, I will follow,” Metellus replied with a nod.
“Son, you know you are not required to follow me across the empire,” Artorius explained. “You’ve established a solid reputation and have made a fine start to your career without my help. I’ve heard rumor that you may be on the cusp of making decanus. You realize that if you come with me to Judea, you may lose this opportunity for promotion.”
“I understand,” the legionary replied. “I also know that Judea is an opportunity that may not come again. I want to go where I can do the most good for the empire, not just what is good for my career. And if I don’t come, who is going to protect you when you get into trouble?”
Artorius chuckled at the remark. Metellus had saved his life at Braduhenna before the two had even officially met; it was later discovered that the reason the young soldier had fought so fanatically to save him was that he had discovered Artorius was his biological uncle. Once it had been proven beyond a doubt that Metellus was the son of his late brother of the same name, Artorius had immediately adopted him. “Very well,” he replied. “Just know that you will get no special favors from me. There will be volunteers coming from all over the empire, and all will have to reassert themselves to see who is most fit for promotion.”
“I understand,” Metellus replied. “I would not have it any other way.”
The two men dined together, with Nathaniel, Proximo, and a host of women servants bringing them the courses of their meal; the freedman and Artorius’ manservant being the only men on the household staff. This was a common occurrence, as house slaves were most often women. Male slaves usually ended up in the fields, the mines, or the arena.
For father and son, theirs was an unusual relationship, as Artorius was only eleven years older. Despite Metellus serving in a different cohort, and that they rarely saw one another, there was still much familial affection between the two. Metellus had also formed a bond with his adoptive mother, Diana.
The hour was growing late and Metellus was making ready to take his leave when Proximo opened the front doors and Diana strolled in. The storms had finally ceased, though her stola and cloak were both soaked.
“Ah, Metellus!” she said with a smile, not seeming to notice her own discomfort.
“Mother,” he replied, standing and walking over to her, kissing her on both cheeks. “Good to see you.”
“Yes,” Diana replied, handing her cloak to a waiting servant before addressing her husband. “I apologize for being late, my dear. As you could hear, the rains were insufferable, and I’d hoped to wait out the storm. I finally decided to leave and take my chances in the rain lest I wear out my welcome with Lucilla.”
“Ah, so she told you the news about Praxus?”
“Yes! And I think it is an absolute delight that they will be coming with us. And what of you, Metellus, our son? Will you be joining us in Judea?”
Metellus seemed uncertain what to say and glanced at his father. Though they had talked in depth most of the evening, they had not discussed for certain whether or not he would be joining the Judean cohort.
“Yes,” Artorius said at last. “Yes, he will be journeying with us into the east.”
The next day Artorius sat behind a long table as Magnus and Praxus walked in carrying a pair of large satchels.
“We’ve got all the applications for volunteers from the western legions,” Magnus remarked. “We also managed to get each man’s official service records.”
“How many volunteers are we looking at?” the Pilus Prior asked. “You know we are only allowed to take enough to fill three centuries.”
“Over seven hundred,” Praxus answered. “A number of these ‘volunteers’ are merely troublemakers within their units that their officers would sooner dump on us rather than deal with themselves.”
Artorius shook his head in disgust, though he was hardly surprised. He could understand how a commander would be reluctant to give up his best soldiers, and when tasked with providing volunteers for a new unit, it was logical that they would try and offload some of their less disciplined men.