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“I just hope we can find enough decent soldiers to fill all the vacancies in the cohort,” Artorius quipped as he and his centurions started to go through the list of applicants. “Justus Longinus is screening applicants from the eastern legions.”

It would take several days of pouring through each man’s record and application. Unsurprisingly, there were a number that he would have been completely mad to accept. Some were downright comical, causing them to burst into laughter at the absurdity of the candidates in question.

“Look at this one,” Magnus mused as he showed his friends one man’s record. “Seven flogging offenses, twice sentenced to forfeiture of pay for serious infractions, and once sent to the stockade for thirty days; all within his first three years in the ranks. A model soldier, this one!”

“Yes, totally ideal for helping to restore order in a volatile province,” Artorius grunted.

Thankfully for them, there were a number of men with good service records who were actual volunteers, rather than troublemakers that their officers were trying to rid themselves of. What they paid less attention to was a soldier’s rank. No principle officers had volunteered, and there were only a small handful of decanii. Artorius and Magnus had already vetted the handful of men who came from their own centuries. As they continued to read through the lists there was a knock on the door.

“Come!” Artorius shouted.

In walked a man he had never seen before. He was in a red tunic, though he wore a centurion’s belt and carried a vine stick.

“Can I help you?”

“My name is Lucius Tyranus,” the man replied, extending his hand. “I’m your replacement.”

Artorius stood and clasped his hand.

“Of course you are.” Though he was smiling it was one mixed with sadness. “Let’s go for a walk. Centurion Magnus, carry on.”

Chapter VI: Changing of the Guard

“I know what you and your men did at Braduhenna,” Tyranus said as they walked past the barracks.

“Do you now?” Artorius replied with a trace of ice in his voice. It did not seem an appropriate topic of conversation for this new centurion to address with him, and he started to take offense at the remark.

“I was an optio with the Fifth Legion at that time,” Tyranus continued, causing an immediate change in Artorius’ demeanor.

He had not asked where his successor had come from. All he knew was he did not recognize him from any of the other cohorts within the Twentieth.

“Then you experienced the same horrors we did,” Artorius surmised.

Tyranus snorted in reply. “Not hardly. While we labored with repairing the burned out bridges, you were in a fight for your lives. And at night, while your men lay in the cold damp starving and freezing, we were able to fill our bellies and warm ourselves with cloaks and fire. And when we did finally join the fray the next morning, we were only able to do so because Tribune Cursor and his ten thousand had flanked the Frisians and driven them away from the bridge.”

“Still, you should not discredit yourselves,” Artorius replied. “We were already broken, and Cursor’s ten thousand completely spent from their forty-mile trek, then going straight into battle. Had the Fifth Legion not crossed when it did, there would have been fifteen thousand Romans to bury instead of fifteen hundred.”

“I would never diminish what we did that day,” Tyranus agreed. “However, when it was over, Master Centurion Alessio admonished the men against having any delusions of thinking themselves the true saviors of the Valeria Legion. That honor rightly went to Tribune Cursor. When we joined the fight we were all fresh. Cursor’s men had conducted their arduous journey in a single day and still executed their charge. The entire Rhine Army also knows about how your century held the flank. You’re a legend.”

“Something I get really tired of hearing,” Artorius grumbled. “No one ever mentions that we had been overrun, our formation collapsed, and we were simply fighting to the death. I had been wounded multiple times and wasn’t even able to stand by the time Cursor’s cavalry relieved us. Did you know that after Braduhenna I tried to sell my hamata chainmail back to the armorers? I know it’s customary for centurions to wear either chain or scale armor; they say because of its comfort and lighter weight. However, it does not stop the repeated blows of an enemy sword that’s trying to rip out your guts.”

“You wear a ranker’s segmentata?” Tyranus asked, surprised.

“Not while in garrison,” Artorius admitted. “During training and anytime we are on parade I don the hamata. As I said, I tried to sell it back but the master centurion adamantly refused to allow it, once he got word. When I showed him the scar on my side to remind him of my wounds at Braduhenna and how my armor failed me, he relented as far as allowing me to purchase back the segmentata plate armor I had worn as a legionary; for use on campaigns only.”

They walked in silence for a few moments as Tyranus took in what his predecessor was saying. At last they stopped and faced each other. Artorius could sense that the newly-promoted centurion was uneasy about something. He decided to let the man speak as soon as he was ready.

“Listen,” Tyranus said, “I know I’m new to the centurionate. I received word a week ago that I was being transferred. My baggage won’t even be here for another two weeks. I had to take an advance on my pay in order to purchase slaves to handle moving my affairs, as well as acquiring suitable armor and accoutrements for when I take command.”

“Take command,” Artorius said quietly and shook his head. It was then he realized that while he had been so focused on his promotion and where he was going, and he was now reminded of what he was leaving behind.

“I know how much these men mean to you,” Tyranus continued. “I also know that by coming from a different legion they have no idea who I am; only that I will be replacing you who has led them for so long. I hope they will follow me like they did you.”

“Earn their trust, be their commander, and they will follow you,” Artorius assured him. “Lead by example, be fair when administering both punishment and reward, and never use your rank or position for personal gain. I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know. The most significant change from being an optio is that now you are absolutely responsible for the welfare of these men, both in garrison and in battle. You can delegate authority, but never responsibility.”

Tyranus thought for a moment and then nodded. They walked back to the century’s offices, where the signum was posted just outside. At the top of the standard was the customary bronze hand that signaled a unit’s eternal salute to the emperor as well as the senate and people of Rome. Encircling the palm on the Second Century’s standard was a gold wreath, signifying extreme valor, which had been awarded by Tiberius himself.

“I’ll need to choose an optio,” Tyranus observed. “Since I do not know any of these men, can you help me with selection?”

“I can give you a list of officers who have acquitted themselves most favorably,” Artorius replied. “However, I advise you take your time and get to know them yourself. As you are well aware from your own time as an optio, your second-in-command must be one whose leadership style is most compatible with your own. The simplest measure is, who would you entrust command of the century, should you fall in battle?”

“How do you think the new centurion will work out?” Valens asked after Tyranus left. “Think he’ll do right by the lads?”

“He’s a good leader,” Artorius assured him. His discussion with Tyranus had lasted a couple hours, and it was close to the end of the duty day when he returned.

“Some of the men are just a bit nervous, that’s all,” his optio-select replied. “We seem to alternate between good and bad centurions here. Though, thankfully, the bad ones don’t last long. Remember, I was here before you. My first two years we had a real prick who was almost as vile as Fulvius.”