He knew that Valerius had great faith in him, and would one day entrust him to lead the Wolves. That was an honor that both excited and scared Gaius greatly, most of all because he could not imagine living to see a day that Valerius did not command this legion.
Gaius’ thoughts return to his duties as he heard another loud thump, as a body hit the mat.
Taking a deep breath, without having to turn his head to see who lay on his back, he called out, “Again. And do try to win a match while we’re still young, Maurus.”
Later, that evening Gaius walked into Valerius’ office and stood quietly at attention near the doorway as he waited to be called forward.
He watched his old mentor pack several maps into a stack of satchels, assisted by two young aides who rushed around quickly from shelve to shelve.
Ten years ago when he first met Valerius, he seemed as frightening as a titan. Gone now was the burly, haze-eyed brute that donned a thick grey beard. Replaced, Valerius had in him the fire of a teenager.
He was clean-shaven, although there were still some streaks of grey running through his short hair, and a few extra lines under his eyes. He moved and acted with a renewed sense of purpose, which gave Gaius hints about why he had been summoned.
The legate’s eyes were locked on one map. From Gaius’ vantage, it seemed to be a detailed map of northern Italy. The two aides, no more than fourteen, rummaged through the shelves that were filled with other documents. They were busy sorting, collecting and categorizing them into small travel bags that would be moved with Valerius’ command. Gaius smiled as the boys glanced over at him. It wasn’t too long ago when he was in their shoes, doing errands for Valerius or the other officers of the legion. The work was tedious and thankless, but they were learning important lessons, even if they hadn’t realized it yet.
One of the aides, a young dark-haired boy fumbled as he was carrying an arm full of documents, most of which seemed to be dealing with the payroll for the legion.
The papers rained down onto the floor, turning Valerius’ attention away from his work.
“Dammit, boy! Pick those up and be more mindful of what you are doing, or by the gods, I’ll send you back to the whore of a mother of yours,” Valerius yelled.
“Yes, legate, sir. I apologize,” the boy repeated several times over as he franticly dropped to his knees and quickly collected the papers.
“Centurion,” Valerius said without even raising his head to look at Gaius. “I want the first cohort ready to march in the morning. Have them in full kit and enough rations for two weeks.”
“It will be done, sir,” Gaius responded obediently.
He did not move or say anything more even though it was clear those were all the orders Valerius wanted to issue at the moment.
Valerius lifted his gaze; his eyes showing signs that the old Roman didn't sleep for a full day now.
“Is there something else on your mind, Centurion Gaius?”
“Yes sir, if I may ask. What is our destination?” Gaius quickly replied without hesitation. Even though he and Valerius showed each other the proper formality that was expected of any legionnaire, they still had an easy relationship with one another that Gaius knew he could ask anything of the legate and probably get an answer.
“You may ask, but that does not mean you will get an answer.” Valerius leered at Gaius with cold eyes, a stare that would have made other officers nervous, but Gaius held his ground with an unmoved expression. He was as eager, if not more so than anyone else to know what was going on. War, was, after all what these men had trained for their entire lives.
Valerius snorted.
“The Senate is having a special session in four days. My presence has been requested in Rome, and the legion placed on standby,” he finally answered.
“Then it is true. We are going to war with Carthage?” Gaius asked, his question shared by the whole legion, who waited eagerly to hear if the rumors spreading were true or not.
“It is not for me to decide such things, lad. However, if I were a betting man, I would say we are. It was bound to happen sooner or later,” Valerius answered with an unwavering reply. While he would never say it, Gaius could see in the legate’s actions that he was excited as well. He’d been stagnated for too long — away from a real fight for years, with only hunting pirates and putting down tiny Greek rebellions to occupy his decades since the last war with Carthage.
Gaius tried to hold back his smile, managing only a faint grin.
“Then if I may inquiry further, sir. Why only one cohort? Won’t the rest of the Sixth be needed if up north if Hannibal is crossing the Alps?”
Valerius stared at Gaius, knowing full well he had not mentioned the particulars of the message or what is transpiring in the Alps as they spoke. However, as he fought to hold back his smile, he knew that Gaius was smarter than he had ever been, and had deduced that knowledge from careful observation.
“The Senate is fearful of a possible Carthaginian naval invasion of either Sicily or southern Italy. If that is to happen, then the Sixth needs to be on call and ready to respond, the moment the first whore-sons set foot on our territory.”
“Even if the fight is in the north?” Gaius asked, sounding disappointed.
“Other legions will be levied. We have our orders, centurion. Now, if there isn’t anything else that is pondering your young mind, carry out my orders and have the first cohort ready to move by sunrise. You are dismissed.”
“Yes, sir,” Gaius saluted before he turned and quickly left Valerius’ office, keeping his smile from being too obvious, only with difficulty.
As he walked outside, Gaius saw Maurus was already waiting for him before he quickly ran over, a big cheerful grin on his face.
“Well?” Maurus eager asked.
“Well what?”
“You know what I mean. Are we going to war or not?”
“My word, Maurus, I think you should see the medicos. You look terrible,” Gaius observed as the deep bruises on his friend’s face had been swollen to large purple welts. He hated to think what the rest of his body looked like by now, but the young soldier shrugged it off, too excited by the news that Gaius was withholding.
“Forget that. Just answer my original question: are we going to war?”
Gaius chuckled, “Yes, or so it would seem. The first cohort is heading for Rome tomorrow, and the rest of the legion is on standby, until further orders are giving. So, it would appear the rumors are true, for once, the enemy is coming to our home, and we’re going to stop them.”
Maurus couldn’t hold back his cheer as he beat his fists into the sky, hollering at the top of his lungs.
“Oh, such wonderful news. Finally, those Carthaginian bastards will fill the iron of the Wolves once again. And off too Rome, how grand, you’ll get to see home again, my dear friend.”
Gaius’ smile hardened sudden as Maurus’ words resonated deeply through his mind. It had not dawned on him, until now — home. He would be going home.
“I will not keep you, my friend. I will go tell the boys the news. I doubt, however, very many of us will be getting much sleep tonight.”
Maurus ran off, still joyful as he quickly spread the news across the whole camp. For Gaius, however, the excitement of the moment had escaped him as he walked toward one of the larger structures in the camp, needing to be alone so he may be with his own thoughts a moment longer.