“What is it?” Gaius asked.
Valerius took a deep breath, and then spoke.” I am the reason your father is dying — the reason he had to give you away. It is entirely my fault that you were forced to leave your old life behind, and those you called your friends.”
Gaius’ eyes opened wide as he struggled for words, but managed to utter, “What…What do you mean it is your fault? I don’t understand.”
Valerius hesitated as he dropped his head low, not wanting to look into Gaius’ innocent eyes, as he stared with confusion at the confession.
Taking a deep breath, he began, “The war was nearing its conclusion. Our cohort was on patrol. We had been camped in Sicily for nearly a year, and had tamed most of the tribes that were loyal to Carthage, so we did not expect anything to come. However, they did, from the hill like raving madmen. We held our ground against several charges as the bastards bashed into our shields, times and time again, until finally they broke. Nevertheless, your father, who was the chief centurion of the cohort, did not fall for the trap. He ordered our forces to hold their ground, but I, foolishly disobeyed. By century advanced, determined to slaughter the cunts to the last man, but it was then when we were at our most vulnerable that they hit us from either side. With the hills around us, we couldn’t form proper ranks, so my century was being slaughtered almost to the last man.”
Valerius’ words were growing angrier as, he detailed the encounter, becoming more animated as he went into further description of the fighting that followed the ambush.
Gaius hung on his every word as he inched closer to Valerius. He tried to imagine what the old veteran must have been like, young and strong as he battled the horde of bloodthirsty Carthaginians and their allies.
“Eventually most of my men ran back to our primary line, which was now beginning to pull out under the threat of being encircled by a superior force, a wise choice on your father’s part. I, on the other hand, was lost in my rage. I stood my ground as my men withered all around me, holding my own against any bastard who challenged me. However, even I in my youth wasn’t Mars; I’m shameful to admit now.”
“What did you do? How did you survive?”
“The whore-son’s had me surrounding, at least twenty of them, and despite the bodies that lay beneath my feet, they weren’t fearful of the Roman officer who stood defiant. They teased me, using their spears to slow me, taking pot-shots when they could — pierce my leg, my arm and my hip. I was done for, either then or later when they took me prisoner, but then I heard your father’s war cry as he charged down the field on top a horse. Where he got one I can’t imagine, but he looked like the god Apollo coming to my rescue.”
“Wow! Apollo?” Gaius mused with a wide grin.
“Oh yes, my boy. He charged into the Carthaginian ranks, killing at least three of them before I regained my wits and finished off another pair.”
Valerius paused for a moment as he took a deep breath.
“But one of the bastards tossed a spear, which tripped the horse. Your father was thrown from it, landing on his head. He lived and seemed no worse of ware, but he cracked his helmet straight now its seam. Blood gushed from a deep gash across his head, but strangely, he did not seem fazed by it at all. He charged at the remaining soldiers, crazed with madness, killing I dare say, more than I. Those who stood alive ran off, giving your father, and I time to escape the battlefield.”
“Then he saved you?”
“Yes, but with a price. As we were leaving, several miles safely from their territory, your father collapsed and would not wake up for a very long time. I carried him back to our legion camp and got him the help he needed. For a while, I wasn’t sure he would ever wake up again, but he did, and again, probably thanks to his hard head; he seemed okay.”
“I don’t understand,” Gaius asked as he now sat right next to Valerius, trying to wrap his young mind around what was being said.
“Well, you see, there are many injuries you can sustain on the battlefield that will end you slowly over time, but those taken to the head can be the worse — more terrible than death, for it will kill you over a lifetime. You may be fine for years even, but then one-day everything is different; your body won’t work anymore. You may have fits of the limb, cold sweats, raging temperatures, and much worse. A powerful man, such as your father can become as frail as a small boy, I’m afraid. And while your father would not show it to you, he knew that his time was growing ever shorter. He wanted to spare you from seeing him fall — overtaken by this old wound, one that I’m responsible for.”
Valerius lowered his head; his voice filled with regret as his somber words ran deep through Gaius’ heart.
“If it weren’t for me and my action, your father would still be alive. He would be able to raise you, teach you what is needed to become a man, and allow you to make your own choice as to what to do with your life. I’ve robbed him of his life, but so too I’ve done the same for you.”
Valerius looked down at Gaius and rested his hand on the boy’s shoulder as he continued.
“Gaius, I will understand if, someday you seek to avenge your father’s fate. I am at fault, and it is your right as his son. I deserve no less.” Valerius’ words were sincere.
Gaius did not say anything for what seemed like a long time. He didn’t know how to respond. He knew it was in his right to take action against the man who was to become his teacher — the man who would train him to be a soldier, to kill. Even so, Gaius looked up at Valerius with different eyes, not filled with hatred for what the old soldier had told him, but a sense of understanding that was beyond his years.
Gaius shook his head, “No. My father told me once shortly after my mother left this world that we can’t question the will of the gods. We are not wise enough to understand their plan for us, and we have to accept that each day that we live, is a gift. What he did for you, he did out of love. It is no excuse for why he had to come to your rescues, but he would have done it regardless, even if he knew what the outcome would have been. I believe he never blamed you, and therefore, I have no need to hold any grudge against you for your part in what happened.”
Valerius managed a smile. It was obvious that he did not feel right about the mistake he made, but he admired the young man for his wisdom, nevertheless.
“I don’t think I could kill,” Gaius suddenly stated after a short silence. The image of Calfax came to him: the way he killed, so meaninglessly, without mercy or feeling for those he cut down. A part of him wondered if that was his future now, to be trained to fight other men, and to take pride in the act of killing — to allow vanity to confuse him as it had Valerius in his youth.
Valerius shook his head. “It is never easy. As a soldier, you might be…you will be called to do so, to protect yourself and the men under your command.”
“What do I do when I’m faced with the chose?
“It is different for each man. You will learn things that you can’t understand now, skills that will give you the tools you’ll need to protect yourself, and hopefully prepare you for the day when you’ll be faced with your life, or another’s. Even so, nothing I teach you will make it easier. When the time does come, it will be up to you to take action, or die. It really is as simple as that. I would, however, suggest that you always keep in your heart the memories of those you are fighting for. It will make it that much easier in the end.”
“Julia, and Antony,” Gaius muttered to himself before he gazed up into the old soldier’s eyes. “How do I know I will ever be strong enough, when that day comes?”
“You, my young ward, have more courage and strength than you know. I can see great things in you, as I saw long ago in your father. I know you will be valiant, greater than your father and I.”
Valerius took a swig of water before he placed his arm around Gaius’ shoulder, deciding that it was best that he changed the subject to something more entertaining for the lad.