“Yes, sir,” he replied with a nod.
Vitruvius winked at him as both centurions walked away. Artorius took a deep breath and blew out hard. He was genuinely surprised the training had gone as well as it had. The physical chastising was to be expected when recruits were raw and undeveloped. He again thought back to when he was in their place. The extreme conditioning had been a wakeup call for him, given that his entire physical training regime up to that point consisted of gaining size and power. Artorius still possessed an extreme amount of muscle size and was considered by many to be the most physically powerful soldier in the entire legion. However, he had supplemented his training with extreme amounts of conditioning. In truth, he knew stamina was far more important for a legionary than raw power. Still, he worked hard to maintain his size and strength as a matter of personal pride.
He walked into the centurion’s office and sat down across from Macro, who was leaning back in his chair, his feet up on his desk.
“I take it you have given some thought to how you are going to prepare for the Legion Champion Tournament?” Macro asked.
Artorius shook his head at that.
“To tell you the truth, sir, I’ve been totally focused on preparing for weapons training with the recruits, not to mention the day-to-day running of my section.”
Macro frowned slightly and nodded. “Well, I can understand you being quite busy,” he replied, “especially since you are new to both duties. You do know, however, every legionary who fancies himself as a master of close combat is looking to beat you.” “So I’ve been told,” Artorius retorted, dryly.
“The thing is,” Macro continued, “these men all know your talents. They will push themselves to be at their best in order to beat you. I know you haven’t been sparring as regularly as you would like, and we need to fix that. Your duties as chief weapons instructor are paramount and cannot be changed. However, you can delegate your tasks as decanus to one of your more competent legionaries. Anyone you might have in mind?”
“Magnus would be the most logical choice,” Artorius replied.
Macro cracked a partial smirk. “You’re not just saying that because he is your friend, I hope.”
Artorius was taken aback by that. “Sir, I hope you think better of me than that!” he said indignantly. “Believe me, our friendship is irrelevant. Magnus has the respect of the entire section; they listen to him and follow his lead without question.”
Macro raised a hand for Artorius to cease. “At ease, sergeant, I understand. I wasn’t accusing you of showing favoritism. I just want to make certain it is avoided in this century. Very well, I’m going to elevate Magnus to immune status. Appoint him as acting section leader until the tournament is over. When you are not conducting weapons drill with the recruits or preparing lesson plans, I want you focusing on your own preparations for the tournament. I thought to ask Vitruvius to come back to be your sparring partner, however, that would be in poor taste, given that he has his own representative to prepare. If you wish to use members of your section as sparring partners, by all means do so. I’ll get Statorius to lay off hammering your guys too much on the duty roster. However, do not allow them to use that as an excuse to be lazy. If they are getting out of fatigue details, they need to be sparring with you, understood?”
“Yes, sir,” Artorius replied with a nod. “I’ll spar with them until they beg me to put them back on the detail roster!”
Macro grinned, then stood and extended his hand, which Artorius clasped. “I know you’ll make this century proud.”
Artorius saluted and walked out of the office. He was partially relieved that, at least now, he could pawn off some of his duties. At the same time, he was nervous about the pressure Macro was putting on him. He figured he would go practice some drills on the training stakes and work off some of his nerves. He was shocked to find Magnus waiting for him at the stakes, equipped with a practice shield and gladius.
His friend grinned at him as Artorius approached. “What, you didn’t think I was going to let you practice on your own, did you?”
Artorius shook his head, set down his weapons, and started to stretch and warm up his muscles.
“How did you find out?” he asked as he stretched out his chest and upper arms.
“Decimus told me,” Magnus replied with a shrug.
Artorius started laughing. “Okay, I’m not even going to ask how he found out!” “It is a unique talent he has,” Magnus observed. “So you want to do some stake drills and then spar?”
“Yeah, I need to work some of the rust off,” Artorius replied as he donned his helmet. “Alright, shield drills first. We’ll start by working on boss-punches as well as bottom-shield strikes.”
“You got it,” Magnus replied as he set into his fighting stance.
While punching an opponent with the metal boss on the center of the shield was preferable, there were times when one could tilt the shield up and jab with the brass strip on the bottom for improved reach. This was particularly effective when an adversary was disengaging. Artorius was shocked by the sheer speed and tenacity Magnus displayed. He seemed to have a preference for using bottom-shield strikes to keep his enemy at a distance. It had been some time since they had fought side by side in actual combat, and Artorius was feeling very much out of condition.
“You like using the underside of your shield,” he pointed out to Magnus as he continued to work his own strikes.
“It frustrates my enemy,” Magnus replied as he lunged forward quickly to demonstrate a rapid stab with his gladius. “They become desperate in their attempts at closing the distance with me, then I can bait them into falling onto my blade.”
“A sound tactic,” Artorius commented between deep breaths, “but don’t attack too high. Someone could slip underneath your shield.” His own shield arm was starting to limber up, and he felt his rhythm coming back.
“I always keep that in mind, hence, I keep my gladius at waist height. You want to switch to gladius drills?”
“Yeah,” Artorius replied, his heart starting to race as sweat started to form up on his brow. “High and low attacks, keeping your shield at the defensive.”
On order, both men started to stab at the wooden stakes, not once pausing or losing their rhythm. Artorius kept Magnus in his peripheral vision, making certain he kept pace with his friend. He realized that, if given the opportunity, Magnus could give him a run for the Legion Champion title. Having his friend at his side forced him to push himself harder than he ever could on his own, and he was, once again, thankful for the motivation.
Time and again they assaulted the training stakes, incorporating more footwork and movement, as well as executing combinations of blocks and strikes with both the shield and gladius.
“Switch up your combinations,” Artorius ordered. “Use multiple shield attacks to set up your gladius strikes.” He was starting to have trouble speaking as it took all he had to keep his breathing regular. His hips were starting to ache from using them to magnify the impact of his blows. He had no idea how long they had been drilling, though he knew it was far longer than he would have gone had Magnus not been there. At length, he finally stepped away from the stakes. “Alright, that’s enough for now.” His heartbeat was ringing in his ears and his face was completely flushed. He set his weapons down and rested with his hands on his knees. “Thank the gods for that!” Magnus slurred as he dropped his weapons and fell to his back in an overtly dramatic manner. He took his helmet off and tossed it aside, his arms falling straight out at his sides. “I didn’t think you were ever going to end this!”
“I was too afraid of looking weak in front of you,” Artorius replied, removing his own helmet and having a seat on the grass. “Having you here has certainly pushed me beyond what I thought I was capable of.”