The young man looked as if he did not know whether the Emperor was jesting or reprimanding him. Tiberius liked it that way.
“Messages from the Prefect Aelius Sejanus and the Procurator Pontius Pilate for the Emperor Tiberius Claudius Nero Caesar,” the Praetorian replied, handing a pair of scrolls that were still sealed to the Emperor.
Tiberius looked back at Thrasyllus, his mouth cocked into a small smile. The astrologer simply shrugged and stood with his hands folded in front of him.
“Servants will take you to your quarters,” Tiberius told the messenger. “There you can refresh and clean yourself up. You will have my replies to take back to Rome in the morning.”
The Praetorian saluted and left, leaving the Emperor to his readings.
“Some days I find your predictions frightening,” Tiberius said to the astrologer after a taking a few minutes to read the messages from Sejanus and Pilate.
Chapter XIV: The Coming Storm
Gaius was beaming with pride as he stood in formation, waiting to be called forward with the other recruits to take the oath of allegiance. He still wasn’t certain if Centurion Artorius knew who he was or not. He figured that with eighteen new recruits in the Century it had been fairly easy to keep a low profile. As soon as they had sworn the oath and sheathed their gladii, Artorius walked the line, clasping each man’s forearm and congratulating them on their ascension from civilian to legionary. When he got to Gaius he was grinning broadly.
“Your father will be proud,” Artorius said with a nod as he clasped Gaius’ hand. “Welcome to the Century, Legionary Gaius Longinus.” For his part, the newly appointed legionary’s face turned red and he swallowed hard. Of course it was silly to think that his Centurion did not know all along whom he was. As they exchanged salutes Gaius thought back and wondered if Centurion Artorius had actually been harsher to him than the other recruits. Indeed, the bruising from the physical discipline he had taken at the hands of the Centurion, as well as Optio Praxus, had only just started to fade in the last few days.
That evening Gaius sat quietly at a table in the corner of the tavern, sipping some local ale as the other new legionaries shared a raucous evening with their brethren in the ranks. One of his friends sat down and smacked him hard on the shoulder.
“Gaius! What the hell is it, man? Don’t feel like celebrating with the rest of us?”
“They arranged the whole thing,” he replied, taking a long pull of ale. It was bitter, and he could not remember why he had ordered it in the first place.
“What are you talking about?” his friend asked, taking a seat next to him.
“My father…and Centurion Artorius,” he replied. “I want to make my own way in the legions, not have my way made for me by my father’s friends.”
“Your father knows the Centurion? Well, when you think about it, there aren’t that many Centurions in the entire Roman army. I suppose those who have been around a while probably all know each other in one manner or another.”
“I guess it just never dawned on me why father was so insistent that I not join one of the eastern legions. He said his name was too well known there, and he did not want the officers and instructors showing me any leniency. Instead, he sends me clear across the Empire and has me placed under his old school friend.”
The other legionary simply shrugged.
“It makes sense, I suppose,” he replied. “Your father gets you out of the east, but still puts you under the charge of a Centurion he knows he can trust. Hell, as brutal as he was to us in training, I hear Centurion Artorius is nothing like the last one we had.”
“You mean the one he murdered for abusing a legionary?” another of their companions blurted through slurred speech as he sat across from them, wine goblet precariously balanced in his numbing fingers. “At least that’s the rumor I’ve heard. I tried asking the Centurion about it once, and he beat me across the legs with his vine stick and then made me do boulder squats until I threw up four times…never did get my answer either…think it’s true?”
“It’s true,” Magnus said placing his hands on the table, having heard them from across the room. “And if I were you, I would keep talk of that to yourself! Your voice is carrying across the damned tavern! The men of this Century have done their best to forget the incidents surrounding the last Centurion; a man who is never mentioned by name and who was convicted in absentia for crimes that got his name struck from the legion’s rolls. Am I making myself clear?” He grabbed the drunken soldier by the back of the neck and gave a squeeze for emphasis, half lifting him from his seat.
“Yes, sir,” all three men said together.
Magnus made his way outside the tavern and was surprised to see his old friend and Centurion leaning against a pillar, brooding. A half-drunk cup of local ale hung loosely from his hand.
“I thought you didn’t come here anymore,” the Tesserarius observed as he leaned up against a pillar opposite his friend.
“I usually don’t,” Artorius replied, eyes staring off into the blackened night. “I came to reminisce a bit. You realize it’s been twelve years since we were in their position?” He nodded his head towards the inside of the tavern, where his newest legionaries celebrated their ascent into the ranks. “I still remember that night clearly. I swear the conversations were almost identical to those I overhear from our new men.”
“Except we don’t have a naked Valens chasing Praxus through the tavern with his gladius,” Magnus replied with a laugh.
Artorius chuckled at the memory.
“Yes, well I think your sister has calmed him down a bit.”
Magnus scowled briefly at Artorius’ assessment.
“Svetlana is just as much of a deviant as Valens,” the Norseman replied. “She may have redirected his carnal lust, but believe me, I don’t think our friend has calmed down at all. Did you know he’s got this thing he does to amuse himself? He gets into a wide stance and starts to thrust his hips front to back vigorously so that his balls start slapping really loud.”
“Yes, I’ve heard the slap,” Artorius replied, rolling his eyes. “I was talking with Proculus the other day, and the twisted fuck stands directly behind the Primus Ordo and starts doing it! Proculus could not for the life of him figure out what that loud slapping sound was.”
The thought of Artorius trying to keep a straight face while one of his legionaries acted in such a vile manner directly behind one of the most senior-ranking Centurions in the legion caused Magnus to burst into a fit of laughter. Even Artorius could not help but chuckle at the absurdity of it all.
“Ah, I know you didn’t come here to reminisce about my sister’s disturbed, albeit amusing, husband,” Magnus said at last, becoming serious once more.
Artorius finished what was left in his ale cup with a grimace.
“To be honest, old friend,” he began, “I’m a bit worried about our new soldiers. There’s just so many of them. They make up a full third of the Century!”
“What of it?” Magnus shrugged. “We were there once ourselves. Hell, we were barely out of recruit training when we saw our first action.”
“Yes, but most of the Century was made up of veterans at that time,” Artorius replied. “There were only four of us straight out of recruit training then; you, me, Gavius, and Antoninus. The veterans took care of us, and Antoninus was the only one of us to not come home from Germania.”
“I remember that,” Magnus said. “Poor bastard was killed at Angrivari. Look, I see what you’re saying; we have a lot of inexperienced legionaries within the Century. That can’t be helped. The only thing we can do is train them the best we can and hope that there aren’t any real wars to fight for the next couple years.”
“It will take at least that long to get them fully proficient,” Artorius agreed. “We taught them the bare basics during recruit training. Our focus now needs to be building upon that foundation, lest they all follow young Antonius to the afterlife.”