Severus had readily accepted the offer made by his men. In fact, as word of the proposed bet spread its way up the chain-of-command, every senior officer with or without personal knowledge of Optio Vitruvius added their sums to the ever growing wager. ‘The Legionary versus the Gladiator’, became the topic of discussion amongst the social elite. As a mark of professional pride, most military veterans placed their wagers with Vitruvius, while others of a less savory nature placed theirs with the unknown gladiator. Rumor had it the Emperor himself had even placed a large wager on the weapons instructor. This was, of course, preposterous, given Tiberius’ loathing of gambling and of gladiators.
On the eve of the fight, Vitruvius stood on a balcony overlooking the city and the Circus Maximus. He seemed lost in thought.
“Thinking about tomorrow’s match?” Macro asked, walking up to him.
“Just thinking about why in Hades I’m even doing this,” Vitruvius answered, gazing down at the Tiber River.
“Because you have the reputation for being the best there ever was, Vitruvius,” Macro answered. “You’ve never been defeated in battle; no one has ever even come close to hurting you.”
Vitruvius turned to face his friend and centurion.
“‘The perfect killer.’ That’s what the men call me,” he replied.
“Quite the reputation to live up to,” Macro observed.
“Yes,” Vitruvius said as he turned his gaze back towards the city. “And it would seem that it’s all I’ll ever be known for.”
Macro placed a hand on his optio’s shoulder.
“If I bought you a vat of wine and a couple of comely young courtesans, would you lighten up?” he asked, laughing.
Vitruvius found he was unable to control his own laughter. “Perhaps just a goblet…large, and one courtesan,” he replied. “Can’t risk wearing myself out completely before tomorrow.”
Artorius sat at a table, a goblet of wine in his hand. He was leaning forward, staring off into space as soldiers drank and told war stories with the locals of the city. Many of them had never even been to Rome, the heart of the Empire they had all risked their lives to preserve. A gentle breeze blew in from the Tiber. It felt good. It was a far cry from the blood-soaked plains of Idistaviso or the smoldering hell of the Angrivarii fortress. Artorius took a deep breath, slightly shuddering at the memories. He did not even take notice as Magnus took a seat across from him, a local lady of pleasure settling comfortably on his lap.
“Hey Artorius, you would not believe what these ladies are willing to do, for only a couple of copper coins no less!”
“Anything for my brave boys,” the young woman replied, her hands in Magnus’ blond hair, gently biting on his ear.
Magnus was cheerfully on his way to becoming drunk and was laughing incessantly. “Come on man, you’ve got to go and get yourself one before they’re all taken. Valens is trying to get a couple to go swimming naked with him in the Tiber.”
“Not tonight,” Artorius said as he took a drink of wine, continuing to stare off into the direction of the river.
Magnus was suddenly aware of his friend’s need to talk and immediately sobered up. He slapped his lady friend on the rump and sent her off.
“I’ll be waiting for you back in my room,” she whispered into his ear.
Magnus motioned for her to leave at once, before turning his attention back to his friend.
“So what’s on your mind?” he asked. “Thinking about Vitruvius and his fight with the gladiator tomorrow?”
“What?” Artorius looked surprised. “No, I hadn’t even thought about it.”
“Didn’t think so. So what is it?” Magnus persisted.
Artorius let out an audible sigh. “You remember when we first joined the army and I gave you my reasons for joining?”
“Sure,” Magnus shrugged. “You joined to avenge your murdered brother. You told me after Idistaviso you felt like you had done that. So where’s the problem?”
“That’s just it,” Artorius threw his hands up. “I’ve done what I went there to do. I avenged my brother. I killed gods know how many of those barbarian bastards over the last two years. So now that I’ve gotten justice and revenge, I’m not sure what else to do. Don’t you understand…avenging my brother was all I ever thought about from the time I was a boy. Now that it’s over, I’m not sure what else to do with my life.”
Magnus leaned forward. “You see those men over there?” he asked, pointing to where Decimus and Praxus were becoming friendly with a couple of local ladies. A pair of merchants continued to buy them wine while tossing dice with Decimus. In the distance, they could just make out Valens running towards the riverbank, tearing his clothes off, and yelling enthusiastically as he tossed them aside, a pair of scantily clad women close behind him. “What do you see when you look at them?”
“I see Praxus negotiating a fare with his lady-in-waiting and Decimus about to lose his ass to those two merchants who aren’t as drunk as they appear,” Artorius retorted.
What they didn’t notice was Decimus slipping something into the merchants’ drinks.
Magnus raised his eyebrows and nodded. “Well, fair enough,” he conceded. “I mean when you really look at them what do you see?”
Artorius shrugged and shook his head.
“I’ll tell you what I see,” Magnus continued. “I see Rome. Rome is not about politics, the Senate, nor is it even about this city. You said so yourself at Idistaviso.” He gestured at everything around him in order to emphasize his point. “Rome is an idea, an idea that lives in those men, even when they’re drunk. It is an idea that lives in us, too; that the entire world can be brought together in one civilized, advanced, and orderly society. Rome is alive; it lives and breathes through us. As long as we live, Rome will continue to live.”
“So our reason to live is so that Rome can continue to live,” Artorius observed.
Magnus raised his hands in a gesture of acceptance. “Exactly.”
Artorius nodded in contemplation. “Oh, I suppose there are worse things in life to live for,” he said as he took a long gulp of wine. “And it doesn’t hurt that they pay us adequately and let us enjoy some of the finer things in life.” He looked over at where Praxus and Decimus had left with their lady companions, the two merchants were passed out with their heads on the table.
“I guess they were as drunk as they looked.” Magnus laughed, rising to his feet and smacking his friend across the shoulder.
“And now I’m going to enjoy some of those finer things, especially since I’ve already paid for them.” With that he ran back towards the tavern.
Artorius smiled, took another drink of wine, and turned his attention back towards the river. She really is beautiful, he thought, especially at this time of year.
His thoughts turned to the events coming up over the next few days. The games would be over soon, followed by the triumphal parade and then back to the Rhine. Time was running short, and he had yet to hear from his father. The thought disturbed him. He thought he would at least have gotten a letter or message in reply. Surely his father had to know he was in Rome. The whole of the Empire knew about their victory over Arminius, so why had his father not made contact with him? The thought vexed him as he finished his wine and contemplated taking a walk along the river. No sooner had he risen, a voice caught his attention.
“Artorius?” It was a woman’s voice, one that he had not heard for some time. He turned to see Camilla standing there, her hands folded in front of her. “I’ve spent the last three days looking for you.”
“The Army of the Rhine is quite large. I’m surprised you were able to find me at all.” His face betrayed no emotion.
Did she really think he could still have feelings for her after she ran off and married a magistrate’s son only so she could live in luxury? Camilla ran towards him and wrapped her arms around him. Artorius remained motionless.