The Carpathian Interlude

Immortui-2

"Cohorts returning!" he called out as he descended the steps. "Open the gates!" he ordered as several of his men came forward to raise the great oak beams that barred the iron-studded doors. Gaius stood in the road as the gates creaked open, the torches whipping as the wind penetrated. He strode forward, six men at his back. "Salve!" Gaius saluted the tribunes as they approached.

"Optio," the one acknowledged from his horse.

"Welcome home, sirs," Gaius said officially. "The commander asked that you both report to the Praetorium before retiring for the night."

"By Jupiter, we need to sleep," complained the other tribune.

"As the commander wishes," the first agreed. "Optio."

Gaius and his men moved aside to allow the tribunes and their men to flow into the base, quietly acknowledging friends and acquaintances as they passed. When all the troops had passed beneath the gate, Gaius walked out onto the moonlit cobbles of the road and paused. Something niggled at him. It felt more vulnerable outside the walls, not quite right. He wondered if it was the full moon, for he had been outside the walls for months on the Pannonian campaign. It was as if - there!

Gaius c****d his ear, tried to hear past the sound of the wind and the rush of the river far below. The six men behind him looked puzzled. Then he heard it again, a whimpering like… a child! He wondered if the father in him took over then because he immediately called back to his men.

"Torches! There's someone down there!" He strode forward and followed the noise until he arrived at the edge of the rocky slope where it fell away to the river.

"Sir! Here, sir." Vitellius handed him a torch and Gaius held it out trying to see.

"There's definitely someone down there. Do you hear it?" The men all leaned forward, then Gaius lobbed his torch to the left of the sound where it landed in a splash of sparks on the rocks at the water's edge. Not ten feet away from it, Gaius could make out the shape of a small body clinging to a log.

"What is it, sir?" one of the men asked.

"A child. We need to get down there now! Antonius," he turned to one of the men. "Go and get a long rope from the gatehouse. Tell them there is a child that needs rescuing down by the river. Tell them to close the gate until we return."

"Yes, Optio!" Antonius ran off and returned a couple minutes later with a long coil of rope. They heard the gates close shortly after. Gaius had already removed his cloak and helmet and laid his hastile on the ground.

"I'm going down," he declared, tying the rope about his waist, making sure his gladius was free. "You men hold the rope and let me down slowly. I don't want to break my leg in a crevice." With that, Gaius took one of the torches and slid over the edge of the rocks. All six men strained under his armoured weight but let him down slowly, allowing him to safely plant his feet. As he descended, the dark water louder in his ears, he strained to catch glimpses of the child. It looked to be a boy. He was soaked. Gaius assumed he must have crossed the river clutching the log that his little body was clinging to.

"Are you all right?" he called. "Boy!"

Only a slow whimper.

When Gaius came to the bottom he wedged the torch into the rocks and moved slowly toward the child whose face was hidden by long, sodden, black hair. There appeared to be no blood. The Roman reached out a tentative hand and brushed aside the hair.

The boy screamed and in a moment was up, shrinking back among the rocks, eyes wild, body shivering uncontrollably. Gaius held his hands out, showing he meant no harm.

"It's all right. I won't hurt you." The eyes searched beyond Gaius, across the river to the dark beyond. "Whatever it is, boy, you're safe. Shh..shh…" he soothed, holding his hand out. The boy reached out and in the flickering light of the torch, Gaius could see where the fingers were torn and bloody, like he had been scratching at something, or clinging to the log. "Do you have a name?" he asked in Latin. Nothing. "Noma sou?" again in the Thracian dialect of Greek. The eyes recognized something, but no answer issued forth.

"Was someone chasing you?" At this the boy began to whimper again and then moved toward Gaius just before fainting. Gaius caught him and swept him up.

"Optio!" Vitellius called down.

"I've got him! Get ready to bring us up!"

Gaius walked back to the first torch carrying the boy under one arm. With the other arm, he gave a tug and held on tight while the men brought them up slowly. When they finally reached the top, he could hear Julius' booming voice approaching.

"What in Hades is going on here?"

Gaius knelt down, his arm aching from holding on and indicated the boy.

"Found him at the bottom of the cliff, sir. Seems to have crossed the river. He was terrified before he fainted."

"Whatever he is, Optio, you should have waited for me. What if you'd gone into the river or broken your neck?"

"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir." Gaius looked back at Julius' angry expression beneath his centurion's horizontal crest.

"Well, lets get back inside the base. That's enough mucking around. The boy's your responsibility now, Optio. Get him to the medicus and then release the men to barracks."

"Yes, sir!" Gaius saluted, picked up the boy and began marching back to the gate. Julius stared across the river a moment longer before turning and seeing the others all safely back behind the fortress walls. Though he did not say anything, his soldier's gut told him that the appearance of a terrified boy from the other side of the river did not bode well.

"Gods, I need a drink!" he muttered.

"Mithras, Lord of Light. Watch over us on this far away edge of the world. Let us not fall into darkness. Though only we men of war worship you, I ask that you shine your light on my family in Rome."

Gaius felt his prayers stunted as he lay on his bed in his quarters. Sleep did not bless him, unnerved as he was by the discovery of the boy. So young…so little… he thought. It made him long to hold his own children, ensure their safety. He lit a chunk of incense in the flame of the clay lamp and set it before the image of Mithras that occupied the central space of the table along one wall of his room. He wondered if Julius was stewing in anger in his quarters at the other end of the barracks block.

At the sixth hour of daylight, the entire V Macedonica was gathered in a massive chequered formation on the grassy plain outside the walls of Troesmis. In the early autumn breeze that swept down in a rush of leaves from the distant mountains, the insignia and vexillaria of all six cohorts and auxiliary regiments jingled and swayed, a plethora of red, bronze, gold and copper. The entire legion had turned out for parade with red cloaks, polished helms, oiled straps and buckles, sharpened gladii and pila. All the men's eyes were on the dais that had been constructed of rough pine timbers for the occasion. Gaius could smell the dripping resin from where he stood. In the middle of the dais was the aquilifer, holding aloft the legion's sacred eagle, polished to blinding brilliance. Beside the aquilifer, the imaginifer held the image of Augustus, their Imperator.

Beneath these sacred images of Rome's power stood the legion's legate commander, Iulus Maximus Sabino, and, newly arrived from Athenae, the consular legate for Macedonia and Achaea, Corwen Constantio Arruns. The latter was flanked by two lictors carrying the fasces which indicated his ability to dispense justice and punishment. Both commanders wore impressive cuirasses of hardened black and brown bull's hide decorated with silver and gold with matching pteruges and ornamented greaves. The commander, wearing a thick red cloak of the legions, stepped forward to speak before the consular legate. Cornui from the edges of the dais rang out and the tribunes of the six cohorts, standing beside tables of decorations to be distributed, turned to salute their commander, their horsehair crests cutting the air with every movement. The men of the legion followed suite, hailing three times.

"Maximus! Maximus! Maximus!"

The commander saluted his men in return and made to speak.

"Men of Legio V Macedonica! We have had many hard months of campaigning in Germania with Tiberius." At the mention of Tiberius, another cheer went up. "The battle was hard going before we got there but after that? Well…we showed those barbarian bastards a thing or two about Roman arms!"

The commander smiled as his men, his legion, whooped and hollered, pounded pila shafts on their scuta. Gaius could see the consular legate stifle a yawn. The man was obviously unused to the colder climes of the frontier compared to sultry Athenae. The broad purple stripe of a senator and patrician poked out, carefully visible from beneath the infrequently-used armour. The commander was about to speak again and Gaius silenced some of his men.

"I want you all to know that I am proud of you, men of V Macedonica. No leader could have asked for a better command. You are disciplined and skilled…and you can fight like the whoresons I know you are!"

Laughter and cheers erupted once more and the commander saluted his men before stepping back for the consular legate. The man held his cloak like the folds of a toga and when he stepped forward to address the legion it became apparent he was well-trained in oratory.

"Hear me, men of Legio V Macedonica!" Clearer than a cornu, his voice grabbed every man there and all voices fell away with the passing leaves. "I come to you by order of our most victorious Emperor, Augustus Caesar. He has commanded me to come to you with more rewards for courage than have been given to any one legion during this campaign.

More cheers. Constantio waited and then began again.

"In a moment, you shall receive your rewards from your tribunes. But first, I am also here to inform you that for your outstanding service to the Empire, you shall all receive a bonus of a full year's salary!"

At that, even Gaius and Julius let out a yell, especially since they received at least twice the regular pay. Gaius thought of what he could do for his family with that money. Fulvia would be able to fix their domus the way she had always dreamed, perhaps a new lyre and clothes for the girls…

The cornu sounded again and before anyone knew it, the consular legate was leaving the dais with his lictors. The commander remained, ordered some of the men to carry the tables onto the dais so the tribunes could distribute the awards.

"First cohort!" the senatorial tribune called out. Gaius stood still and waited as the men of the double-strength cohort received their honours. After a time, he began to think of the boy. He had placed him in the care of the medicus, Stefanos. The boy had not woken but, at a glance from Stefanos, appeared to be free of major injuries. Gaius had stopped to see him before the gathering and told the medicus that the boy appeared to respond to Greek.

"I shall send word to you if he wakes, Optio. Go now and be honoured."

Gaius had gone, giving a nod to a statue of Aesclepios on his way out.

"Second cohort!" their tribune, Marcus Misenus Orban, bellowed from the dais. As the names of his comrades were called out, Gaius watched the sun burst out from behind a cloud, its light blinding, reflecting off the end of the bronze orb of his hastile.