Artorius nodded and clasped his former section leader’s hand even harder. “I won’t let you down,” he replied as Statorius made his way down the long hallway to his new quarters. After he had gone, Artorius turned and appraised what was left of the section, his section now.
There was Decimus, the most experienced legionary in the section. Three times he had been awarded the Rampart Crown for having been the first soldier over the wall of an enemy stronghold; a feat which had never been replicated within the legion. Decimus’ hair was a lighter color, giving off a slightly reddish tint. He was taller than most of the men, with a lean build. He reminded Artorius of a monkey the way he could climb the most difficult obstacles with ease.
Valens was the resident letch who had quite the notorious reputation for his exploits with women of ill repute, though his standards were practically nonexistent. This perplexed many, because he was rarely drunk and could not blame his debaucheries on being inebriated. Still, he was a rock solid soldier and extremely competent in battle. He bore a perpetually deviant grin and constantly twitching left eye.
Carbo, the lover of wine and spirits, did not look like the typical legionary. Slightly overweight with a florid complexion that made him look constantly out of breath, his appearance was very much deceiving. He was reliable in a crisis and had been decorated for valor on numerous occasions. Besides wine, his other weakness was a local tavern wench that he swore, repeatedly, had a twin sister.
Then there was Gavius, who had come through recruit training with Artorius five years before. Orphaned at a young age, his family name alone had allowed him to join the legions. At first thought by many to be meek and unassuming, he had proven his mettle time and again during the campaigns against Arminius. He was also one of the most skilled javelin throwers that Artorius had ever seen.
And finally, there was Magnus, the Norseman. He had also gone through recruit training with Artorius and was his best friend. He was of similar height and build as Artorius, though the mop of blonde hair on his head and piercing blue eyes betrayed his less than purely Latin origins. Along with Decimus, he was one of the better educated legionaries, and Artorius hoped to see him rise through the ranks, as well, some day. Magnus was a natural leader, one who did not need rank to command respect. There were two vacancies within the section, though Artorius knew it was rare for sections to ever be at full strength. While having additional legionaries to share the workload would be welcome, the section agreed they did like having the extra space. Indeed, one of the vacant bunks had been converted into a type of shrine where relics and trophies won on campaign by the legionaries were displayed.
“So does this mean you’ll be buying the wine later?” Magnus asked.
“Not tonight,” Artorius replied as he lay down on his bunk. “Besides, they won’t do the ceremony until tomorrow, so it’s not even official yet.”
“Yeah, best not screw things up the night before,” Decimus added. “Don’t want to end up like Praxus and have to wait another six years for promotion to roll around!”
Artorius snorted at that. Indeed, Praxus should have been promoted years before, yet it took a long time for the scourge of his mistake to erase itself.
That night as Artorius sat writing at his small desk there was a knock at the door.
“Come!” he shouted, and Praxus stuck his head in. Artorius was by himself, the rest of the section enjoying a night off. He looked up from the letter he was writing to his father under the soft glow of an oil lamp. He smiled when he saw his friend and peer, and waved him in.
“So how are the boys assimilating?” Praxus asked as he grabbed a stool and sat across from Artorius.
Gaius Praxus had been a peer mentor to Artorius; the most experienced and quick-thinking legionary he had met. He was fairly tall, about the same height as Decimus, his hair shorn on the sides and back and very short on top. Artorius frequently accused him of keeping his hair so short in order to hide the gray.
“They seem to be adapting alright. Of course we haven’t been officially promoted yet, so maybe it just hasn’t sunk in. Carbo and Valens seem to be perfectly happy where they are, and besides I don’t think either of them can read or write, so any hopes of promotion are out for them. I was a bit concerned that there might be some resentment from Decimus, though.”
“I wouldn’t worry too much about him,” Praxus answered. “Decimus is educated and a good soldier, but he has little aspirations when it comes to having to lead other legionaries. I think his ambition is to keep getting himself decorated on campaign so that he can get moved over to the First Cohort and enjoy veteran status as soon as possible. Usually, that doesn’t happen until one has been in sixteen years; however, I have seen legionaries transferred to the First based on merit. What about Gavius and Magnus? I remember when you all came through recruit training together.” Artorius shrugged.
“I think they’re happy for me, Magnus especially. He has a lot of potential, and I hope that I don’t overshadow him. Given the right kind of mentoring, I think he should get his own section some day, sooner rather than later I hope. Funny thing is you know both of them are older than me? Only a few months in Magnus’ case, mind you, but it does seem a bit odd that I am not only the section leader, I’m also the youngest.”
“It is experience and what one does with it that makes a leader, not his age,” Praxus reached across the desk and gave Artorius a friendly slap on the shoulder.
“So how do you like your new section?” Artorius asked.
Praxus shrugged. “They seem like a decent lot. I’ve known most of them for some time. Four of the lads were there back when Vitruvius was the Decanus. Two are brand new recruits in the middle of training. I think you’ll be getting a chance to work with them soon enough.”
Artorius nodded. He had almost forgotten about the additional responsibilities laid on him. He was going to be appointed the chief weapons instructor as well. It was an additional duty, and one that meant extra incentive pay, which he liked. He just had to learn quickly how to go about organizing the training schedules for sections and assessing individual soldiers, particularly recruits. Plus he knew there were numerous duties, that as a decanus, he would have to oversee as well. It all seemed overwhelming. Praxus saw his concern.
“Don’t worry too much about it. They don’t start individual weapons training for a couple of weeks. That will give you time to go over the lesson plan that Vitruvius left.”
“I just have to make sure my own section is in order before then,” Artorius replied.
“Hey, just be glad you have all veterans and no recruits to worry about,” Praxus smiled. “Your boys are pretty much self-sufficient and can take care of themselves. They’ll help pick up the slack if they see you getting overwhelmed. Remember, we used to do the same for Statorius.”
Artorius furrowed his brow in contemplation. “Yeah, he did seem to come to you and me a lot. I never really gave it much thought.”
“He came to me because I had the most experience, and he came to you because he was grooming you to replace him. I know he brought your name up to Vitruvius and Macro on more than one occasion. Vitruvius, especially, commended your talents and leadership potential. Truth be told, Artorius, I think all three of them see you going places within the legion. Once you get assimilated into your new duties you should start learning the duties of the senior officers in the century. Camillus and Flaccus would be glad to help you, and you already know Statorius is looking out for you.”
“I won’t lie to you, Praxus,” Artorius said after a moment’s contemplation. “I’ve oftentimes watched Macro, Dominus, Proculus, and even Master Centurion Flavius. And I’ve thought to myself, ‘I’ll be there someday.’ Pretty presumptuous, I know.”