“So am I the only one in the section who hasn’t killed anyone?” Gavius asked.
“Don’t worry, you’ll get your chance soon enough,” Praxus replied. “Besides, like I’m sure Magnus and Artorius now understand, be careful what you wish for. It’s not all that you think it is.”
“I agree with Decimus, it is a bigger rush on a battlefield,” Carbo mused. “Then again, I suppose that is, at least in part, because you are fighting for your life out there, and you know it.”
“So what happens tomorrow?” Artorius asked, anxious for a change of subject.
“My guess is we’ll stay here for a while,” Praxus answered.
Carbo added, “Chances are Arminius knows about Germanicus and his strike against the Bructeri. I’m sure he also knows we are here, so I doubt he’ll try anything serious.”
“We’ll probably send patrols out from here, seeing if Arminius will take the bait or not,” Decimus said. “There aren’t a whole lot of settlements around here that we haven’t destroyed already. Remember, there are three other legions out here besides us and I’m sure they were busy today.”
The other legions had been busy. At the headquarters of the Twentieth Legion, Severus met with all of the legates, chief tribunes, and master centurions from the legions to assess the day’s events. Though they were not part of the main effort against the Bructeri, there was still plenty of work for them. All settlements within their immediate area of operations had been destroyed. A few survivors had been allowed to escape towards Cherusci territory.
“Well done,” Severus said after he read the last report and checked everything against his map. “We’ve drawn first blood on this campaign. Now we’ll see if Arminius takes the bait. All legions will hold in place. Fortify your camps and send out sorties. Sorties need to consist of no less than three cohorts. Messengers will send status reports here every three hours.”
“Sir, if our sorties do become seriously engaged, do you want us to press the fight?” one of the legates asked.
“Have riders sent with every sortie to act as messengers. If you do become heavily engaged, then yes, you will force the issue. If you have any doubts about your ability to crush the threat, swallow some of your pride and send word to the other legions. There is no room for vanity in this, gentlemen. We will mutually support each other, not seek our own glory. We do this for Rome. I trust you will use your best judgment on this. Is there anything else?”
When there were no other questions, the meeting broke and all the senior officers returned to their units. Strabo and Flavius stayed back.
“You performed very well today,” Severus told Strabo.
“I had more than a little help,” Strabo said, nodding towards the master centurion.
Flavius smiled. “I helped you come up with the plan, sir. You executed it,” he said to the young tribune.
“I don’t care how you did it, what matters is you destroyed one of the largest settlements in this sector, and you did it without sustaining any casualties,” Severus piped in. “You both are to be commended.”
Chapter VIII: Ambush and Philosophy
***
Decimus had been right. The next day, three cohorts that had not taken part in the previous day’s assault were sent out. As predicted, they went on a sortie to try and lure any wandering barbarian war bands into a fight. None took the bait. The rest of the legion passed the day standing watch, improving their defenses, or catching up on sleep. Artorius was, at first, grateful for the break, but soon became restless. He wanted to be able to avenge his brother properly and killing some farmers was not the way to go about it. He hoped that the barbarians would be lured into a real battle. It would not happen that day. He was standing watch when he saw the cohorts coming in from their sortie.
“Looks like no one wants to play today,” Praxus observed.
Artorius realized that he seemed to draw sentry duty with a different person just about every single time. Magnus was the only one whom he had done multiple shifts with.
“Doesn’t look like they’re going to take it at all,” Artorius said, leaning on his javelin.
“Oh, I don’t know, sooner or later they’ll get tired of us being here, and they’ll try and send us a message of sorts.”
Artorius looked over at the older legionary. He never really speculated on how old the other men were in his section. Most were young, though their experiences made them seem older.
“Can I ask you something, Praxus?” Artorius asked.
“Sure, what’s on your mind?”
“Why are you here? In the army, I mean. What drives you as a soldier?” Artorius was genuinely interested in knowing more about the man whom all the other recruits had started looking to as a mentor.
“It’s hard to say really. I mean, what drives any of us?” Praxus answered. “My father was a soldier. Retired after twenty-five years, got himself a nice plot of land to call his own and a place in the Noble Order of Knights.”
“So he retired as a centurion then?” Artorius asked, realizing that the only way a commoner could attain the status of an equestrian was to retire from the army at a minimum as a centurion.
“Yes, he retired after having commanded his own century for seven years. Seemed like a good life to me. Of course, I was just a boy when he retired, plus I never did see him much when he was still in. My older brother was able to get appointed as a tribune. I, on the other hand, had to settle for enlisting as a common legionary.”
“My father was wounded and forced out of the army after only four years,” Artorius replied.
“I heard that. I also heard about your brother.”
Artorius’ face hardened at the last remark.
Praxus immediately picked up on it. “I’m sorry. I know it’s a difficult thing to have to live with, especially coming back here.”
“Coming here was the only way I could think of dealing with it,” Artorius replied.
Praxus nodded at the thought. “Makes sense to me,” he said after a minute. “As for me, I see it this way; I put my life on the line for Rome. Rome in turn grants me a nice pension when I’m done with it. In the meantime, I try and make the most of the adventure along the way. Personally, I find the best things in life are good wine, good friends, and good women.” “So you don’t go looking for women in the same places as Valens then?” Artorius remarked as both men laughed.
“No. And you shouldn’t either,” Praxus replied.
“Don’t worry, I prefer women who have all of their teeth and who bathe regularly.”
“You know, Valens swears that there is some merit to finding a woman with missing teeth. Quite frankly, I think the lad is just embarrassed after every one of his escapades, and he looks to find any positives that he can. I honestly think he suffers from some sort of addiction.”
Artorius shuddered at the thought. He then laughed to himself. He had always heard, back home, about the glory that is Rome and the prestige of her legions. Legates and senators always spoke of it, yet nobody seemed to ask the soldiers themselves what they thought about such things. Then again, he doubted posterity would want to read that the heart of Rome lay in men who just wanted to drink wine, gamble, play sports, and chase women.
A few days later Artorius was sitting outside his section’s tent, writing a letter to his father, when the Cornicens started sounding the call to arms. He put his paper and stylus away and immediately donned his armor. Soldiers were coming from all directions, falling in on their gear.
“What’s going on?” he asked Praxus as the latter laced up the ties on his armor.
“Sounds like the sorties out in sector just came into contact,” Praxus answered.
Within a matter of minutes the cohorts not on camp guard were formed up and ready to move. Artorius saw Severus and the legion’s cavalry riding out the gate ahead of the infantry.
“Battle formation! Six ranks!” The order came as soon as all troops were outside the gate.