The centurion shook his head. “No, I’m done. It’s time I stepped aside. You had better be entering, though. You are a marked man. A number of the lads, especially those in the Third Cohort, think you are the one to beat.”
Artorius folded his hands on his desk and contemplated this.
“Really, Vitruvius?” he asked.
The centurion was shocked at the sincerity in his young protégé’s voice. “Are you kidding me? There’s a reason why you’re a chief weapons instructor. Second,” he snorted, “and probably most important, you fought me to a draw. That’s never been done before. If you compete in this tournament, and I know you will, and lose, I will have to enter. If someone can best you, then he is the man that I’ve been looking for all these years; the one who is better than I am.” “That is quite an obsession you have,” Artorius replied. “It is almost as if you want to find someone that is better than you.”
“I’m not a god, Artorius,” Vitruvius replied soberly. “No matter how good a man is, he is still just a man. And no man is invulnerable. I am beatable; you’ve proven that. It is time the name ‘Artorius’ was venerated as the master of close combat.” The centurion then rose to his feet, Artorius did the same.
“Anyway, just wanted to see how you’re assimilating. I know you have some new recruits that you will be working with soon. With your permission, I would like to observe their training with you. Oh, I know Macro will be there, but I want to see my former pupil as the master.”
With that, they clasped hands hard.
“It is a daunting responsibility I leave you with,” Vitruvius continued. “However, I know our boys are in capable hands.” With that he left the room.
No sooner had Centurion Vitruvius walked out, when Magnus rushed in, winded. “Artorius, Macro is calling for all section leaders immediately! There’s been a terrible tragedy.” “What is it?” Artorius asked as he rushed for the door.
Magnus’ face was grim. He took a deep breath and fought to keep his voice from shaking. “Germanicus is dead.”
Chapter II: A Son of Rome Mourned
Macro stood behind his desk. Flaccus, Camillus, and Statorius stood behind him, all looking grim. Even Camillus had lost his perpetually cheerful nature. The signifier then sat down in a chair, his head lowered, and hands in his hair. Germanicus was greatly revered by the legionaries even after he left the Rhine Army for the east. Even though many of the men had never met him personally, they still bore the same honor and affection that they would for their own fathers. Those who met him remembered the occasions fondly.
Indeed, Germanicus had looked after his men as a father would his sons. His tactical savvy was unparalleled, and his personal valor in battle had been an inspiration. Like Tiberius before him, Germanicus never led from the behind the army. To him, his life was no more important than that of his lowest legionaries, and if they were in danger, so was he. His concern for their welfare had been genuine, and he had always made it a point to meet with individual soldiers. When he spoke to his legionaries, he spoke to them as men, with dignity and respect. His loss would shake the Rhine Legions to their very foundations.
Artorius was among the last of the section leaders to arrive. Many were talking excitedly. Germanicus’ death could very easily cause a serious disruption within the legion, which would, in turn, lead to civil unrest within the province.
“At ease!” Optio Flaccus shouted.
Immediately there was silence.
Centurion Macro then spoke. “Before we start letting rumor and emotions run rampant throughout the ranks, we need to make certain that we deal strictly with the facts of the matter. We have just learned our former commander, Germanicus Caesar, is now dead.” His voice was cold and distant, his emotions blunted by the tragedy. “Given his age and the fact that he was in prime health, rumors of murder are spreading like wildfire. The gossips have even conspired to implicate the Emperor in this affair. Let it be known that we will not tolerate such talk from amongst our men! Tiberius has many enemies in Rome, enemies that will do anything to slander his name. Yet we must not forget the real man, who led us on this very frontier before becoming Emperor of the Roman Empire; a task, I may add, he never wanted.”
Macro was an impassioned supporter of the Emperor, especially since he had been one of the soldiers welcomed back into the army by Tiberius himself after the Teutoburger Wald disaster.
“As for the talk of murder,” he continued, “there is already a suspect in custody at this time. Some of you may have heard of Gnaius Calpurnius Piso, the former governor in the east. He is the primary suspect, along with his wife, Plancina. Let our men know that while we all mourn the loss of a Son-of-Rome, we do not seek to meet out our own form of justice. Let the courts in Rome decide Piso’s fate!
“More importantly, if there are dissidents amongst the provinces, they will see the death of Germanicus, along with the Emperor’s implications, to be a sign of weakness. We dishonor Germanicus if we allow ourselves to fall into disarray, to forget ourselves as Romans and as legionaries. To allow calamity to fall upon the province will undo everything he fought for. Make certain your men understand this. That is all.”
With that, the host of men who led the century dispersed.
Artorius returned to his section’s barrack to see that all of his men were gathered around, talking very fast. They stopped when they saw him enter.
“What’s happened?” Decimus asked.
“We’ve heard awful rumors, rumors that we cannot believe to be true,” Gavius added.
“I know,” Artorius replied and took a deep breath. “Sit down, men.” Here was his first challenge as a leader of legionaries. Very carefully he explained everything that Macro had said, emphasizing the need to remain focused on their own section of the Empire and not to be distracted by events in Rome which they could not control.
“Piso,” Carbo muttered. “I wish I could gut the bastard myself!”
“Well, you can’t,” Magnus retorted. “Artorius is right; the only way we can do right by Germanicus is to continue as he would have wanted us to.” He looked to Artorius who nodded his assent, thankful for the support from his friend.
“Still, can you even believe the talk of the Emperor himself being involved?” Valens added in disgust. “It makes no sense.”
Decimus leaned back onto his elbows on his bunk and shook his head.
“Absolutely not,” he replied. “If Tiberius ever saw Germanicus as a threat, he would have realized otherwise after the mutiny on the Rhine when there were those who tried to make him Emperor. He was loyal, and Tiberius knew it.”
“Just doesn’t make any sense,” Valens repeated. “I can’t believe that so many in Rome would see Tiberius as having ordered Germanicus’ demise.”
“And yet, that is probably what history will remember,” Carbo added. “Historians are fickle, and they like a good story of murder and deceit. They will leach off the rumors and gossip about Tiberius like fucking locusts.” His voice rose as he spoke.
“Easy, Carbo,” Artorius said. “We cannot be putting faith in the gossips and slanderers back home. If we do, there will be anarchy and chaos at every change in the winds. We are better than that. If historians choose to condemn Tiberius, posterity will be betrayed.” Artorius stood and looked each man in the eye. “But know that I will not tolerate any mention of the Emperor’s name as a suspect in this affair!” It was the first time he asserted his authority over his men.
Magnus leaned forward, resting his forearms on his legs and interlocking his fingers. “You don’t have to worry about that from us, Artorius,” he said quietly, his Nordic blue eyes taking in the slightly nervous glances from the others. “We know our job, and we know where our loyalties lie. Ultimately, they lie with the State and with the Emperor. And at the end of the line, they lie with you.”