Anthony Riches - Wounds of Honour

The boy thought for a moment.

‘I want to be a soldier like my dad.’

‘Well, you can’t, not yet. You’re too young for one thing, and I don’t think we have any armour in your size. You can either take my offer or go back to your grandmother’s village. Either way you can volunteer for service when you’re old enough.’

‘I’ll work for you.’

‘Centurion.’

‘I’ll work for you, Centurion.’

Marcus stood up, turning to face Morban and the old woman.

‘He’s made his decision. You, Morban, will be responsible for his good behaviour, and for ensuring that he isn’t corrupted by bad language and poor behaviour. You will also be responsible for making sure that he spends time with his grandmother as promised, when the cohort isn’t on campaign. And you, ma’am, should be aware that he’s now effectively on imperial service, albeit as a civilian. I guarantee that he’ll be educated by the time he’s old enough to volunteer for the military, and that he’ll have the best possible start in life we can give him. I’ve got at least one man in the century that has more learning than I do, and we’ll make sure he pays attention.’

Morban turned to face her, putting a hand out to hold hers.

‘He’ll have fifty parents in the Ninth. I swear he’ll come to no harm.’

She thought for a long moment, and then nodded with resignation.

Marcus looked her in the eyes, feeling tears of his own distorting his vision.

‘If there’s one thing I understand, ma’am, it’s how that youngster’s feeling right now. I’ll be his big brother for as long as he needs me. After what these people have done for me, it’s my chance to repay some of my debt.’

He bent to the boy, putting a hand out while the other wiped his eyes dry.

‘Come on, then, wolf cub, let’s be about our business. We’ve got a century to get into shape.’

The pair walked out of the door hand in hand, turning up the street towards the main gate, drawing surprised glances from a pair of passing soldiers. They turned to make a ribald comment from the security of the shadows, saw the look on Morban’s face as he emerged behind them, and immediately thought better of it. The standard-bearer watched his officer and his grandson from the doorway as they progressed up the hill, losing sight of them as they passed the soldiers on guard. He turned to follow them up the road, muttering quietly under his breath to himself with a determination he hadn’t felt for many days.

‘Don’t you worry, Centurion, my lads are going to follow you any fucking place you command. Or I’ll know the reason why.’