He opened the door to the section bay and walked over to the shuttered windows. He pulled these open as Magnus proceeded to kick the bunks of the legionaries.
“Another beautiful morning, fellas!” Artorius shouted.
“Piss off,” he heard Carbo mutter as he pulled his blanket over his head.
Artorius raised an eyebrow at the remark, grabbed Carbo’s gladius-still in the scabbard-from the end of his bunk and brought the flat of the weapon down in a brutal smash across the legionary’s buttocks.
“Ouch!” Carbo bellowed as he pitched out of his bunk, head-first into the wall.
“You dumbass,” Decimus snickered as his fellow legionary stumbled over his bunk, one hand cover his forehead, the other on his buttocks. Decimus elbowed him in the ribs “Know who you’re talking to before you get castrated for insubordination!”
“Alright, let’s get moving,” Artorius ordered. “You all know what your duties are this morning. Gavius get started on breakfast. I want everyone cleaned up, shaved, and ready to patrol in one hour. And Carbo, you’ve got latrines for the next week and are banned from the taverns during that time.”
The legionary hung his head sheepishly and nodded. Carbo knew he had been spending too much time at the ale houses. A week sober, along with some correctional details, would do him good.
The forum was starting to fill with patrons by the time Artorius arrived with his section. Imperial cities were an odd mix of peoples from the very corners of the Empire and beyond. There was one particular merchant who proclaimed he was from the very end of the world. Given the man’s appearance, it was believable. He was shorter than average, with a face that bore a slight resemblance to the barbarians from the far east Steppes; however, he had stated that he was from a region to the south of, and even further east. His trade involved mostly spices and medicinal herbs which he said took a full year to reach him from the ends of the earth. It was here that Artorius found the patrons he was looking for.
A litter, along with several attendants, sat next to the oriental spice shop. Artorius was a bit surprised to see Centurion Proculus talking with the two ladies who had been riding in the litter.
“Looks like Proculus beat us to it,” Magnus observed.
Artorius looked back at his legionaries. All were kitted in full armor; however, he felt that shields and javelins would have been too cumbersome to carry through the crowded city and had his men armed with gladii only.
“Looks that way,” he replied, with a touch or resignation. “Alright, let’s head over to the docks; there’s usually something of interest going on down there.”
“I heard that the Scriptorium has a copy of Horace’s Odes IV,” Decimus said. “Can we stop by there? I’ve wanted to read that for some time.”
“I don’t see why not,” Artorius replied as he turned back around, ignoring Carbo’s remarks regarding Decimus’ literacy. As they started to march away, his eyes glanced back towards the pair of ladies with Centurion Proculus. One was very young, still a few years away from womanhood. It was the elder one that caught the decanus’ eye.
She was almost as tall as Artorius, with shoulder-length hair that, as was the latest fashion, dyed a dark blonde. Her stola could not hide the athletic curves of her body and Artorius found no way to describe the beauty that seemed to radiate from her face. Her smile was warm and inviting, her eyes dark and piercing. So enraptured was Artorius that he did not notice the pillar until he walked into it with a crash of his helm. His vision blurred for a second as his head jarred to the side. He stepped back and looked around, though no one seemed to have noticed his mishap aside from his legionaries, who were trying to suppress their sniggering.
“Well, I’ll be buggered,” he said, his face turning red. “How long has that pillar been there?”
From across the street he saw Proculus raise his eyebrows and give a short laugh of amusement. His lady companion turned and looked Artorius’ way. Her eyes snared his gaze, and he found that he could not look away. She gave him a friendly smile, and he winked at her in reply. Proculus then took her by the arm and escorted the two women away, all the while suppressing his amusement.
Daily drill and training complete, Pilate was relieved to finally be able to take his friend Justus up on getting together for a spot of wine and storytelling. He invited the optio to his residence; a rather plush and ostentatious house near the Praetorian barracks.
“Justus, old boy!” he said boisterously as his friend walked onto the covered balcony where Pilate had directed servants to bring the wine and appetizers.
“It’s been too long,” Justus replied as the two embraced and smacked each other hard on the back.
Each then stepped back to appraise the other, for it had been ten years since last they saw each other.
Justus Longinus was a big man, slightly shorter than Pilate, but with a broad, powerful frame. His red hair was already starting to thin, something Pilate made note of immediately.
“And you’re already starting to turn a bit grey!” Justus replied with friendly sarcasm.
Pilate laughed and waved him to a seat. “So tell me, what brought you all the way back here from the east?”
Justus gave a shrug. “It seems the governor wanted a representative to act as a liaison between the eastern provinces and Rome. He wanted it kept low-key, so they decided to send a ranker under the premise of working with the Praetorians. The very day I was promoted to optio, I get my assignment orders.”
“Well, it has to have been a nice change of pace for you,” Pilate conjectured.
Justus took a long pull of his wine. “I admit that it’s been pretty decent. Though Flavia was probably more excited about it than I was.”
“That doesn’t surprise me.” Pilate had momentarily forgotten about Justus’ young wife, given that, for the most part, soldiers below the rank of centurion were forbidden from marrying. “I never understood how you were able to stay married once you joined the legions.”
“It wasn’t too hard,” Justus said. “Flavia’s father, you remember, is a rather wealthy grain merchant. Well, let’s just say that a spot of coin in the right hands and all of the sudden I had a special dispensation that allowed me to remain married.”
Pilate smirked. “It’s ironic how a little gold can buy an exception to almost any rule. Still, I am happy for you. Flavia is a good woman. And how is little Gaius?”
“Not so little anymore,” Justus sighed, “though he’s still a royal pain in my ass!”
“Well, that’s how sons are,” Pilate laughed. “How old is he now?”
“Almost eleven,” the optio replied, “and little Gaia will be two in a month. So, do tell, when are you going to start having children?”
“You forget, Claudia is still a young girl, scarcely older than your Gaius,” Pilate answered.
“A beautiful prize, that one, if she blossoms into anything resembling her sister,” Justus added, as he took another pull off his wine. His remark caused Pilate to wince. “Did I say something to offend, old friend?”
Pilate shook his head. “No, it’s not that. I do not deny that Diana is a strikingly gorgeous woman. However, you must remember that she was married and subsequently divorced at a young age, once it was discovered that she could not bear children.”
“Yes, I forgot about that,” Justus replied, a look of concern crossing his face. “You don’t think Claudia suffers from the same affliction, do you?”
“I hope not. It would be a shame to be betrothed for all these years, only to have to divorce right away because she cannot have children. What a shame it would be if the Pontius line ended with me.” Pilate drained his goblet and reminisced in silence for a minute. He then cheerfully acknowledged his friend. “At least we know the Longinus line will continue after you!”