James Mace - Soldier of Rome - The Centurion

“When she knew her illness would be fatal, she finally mentioned my father having a brother and that I needed to find him. She said, ‘find the Valeria Legion and determine your destiny.’ Nothing else was said, I can only assume it meant she kept some connection with my father’s past and knew where I could find you. It was then that she gave me these.” He handed a series of documents to Artorius.

They were a series of letters and short poems. A few were love poems, written in a hand that Artorius recognized. He swallowed hard as he continued to glance through the papers.

He almost dropped the lot when he found some letters in the stack, only having to read the first few words to know what they said. He was looking at his own handwriting, which had scarcely improved since these letters had been written twenty years before. They mostly talked about school and how he was keeping his promise about doing well in his studies. Each was closed with a favorite quote that he had learned from his brother; With a sound mind and strong body one can accomplish anything. There was one final letter at the very bottom, but it was in neither his nor his brother’s hand. It was addressed to Rowana and the signature made Artorius tremble. It took every ounce of his self control to maintain his composure as he looked at the young man once more.

“Come with me,” he said as he briskly walked out of the office.

The young man struggled to keep pace with him as the Centurion stormed out of the Century’s office and headed straight to the Principia. His gaze was cold and fixated to his front as he walked into the Legion headquarters, right past Camillus, who was verifying the promotion appointments for one of the cohorts.

“What the fuck, not so much as a hello?” the Aquilifer asked as the two men walked right past him. Camillus continued to watch them as they made their way to the Master Centurion’s office.

“Wait here,” Artorius commanded, pointing to a spot right outside the door.

“Hey!” Camillus shouted as Artorius bolted in without so much as knocking. Just as quickly he stopped and immediately went back to his desk when he heard the raised voices inside.

“Oh, shit,” he whispered.

“Centurion Artorius,” Calvinus said, completely taken by surprise. There was anger in the younger Centurion’s face, and the fact that he had not so much as knocked and waited for permission to enter confounded the Primus Pilus.

“Did my brother have a son?” Artorius said, his voice rising.

“Excuse me?” Calvinus replied.

“You fucking heard me!” Artorius barked.

Calvinus’ eyes went wide and his surprise quickly turned to anger.

“You watch your tone with me, Centurion!” he shouted back. “Don’t think our past history gives you the right to barge into my office unannounced and get insubordinate with me! You had better explain yourself!” He had completely forgotten the question the junior Centurion had asked.

“My apologies, sir,” Artorius replied tightly. He then held up the letter addressed to Rowana. “I thought perhaps you could explain this.”

The Master Centurion’s eyes grew wide as he recognized the letter.

“Where did you get that?”

“From an auxiliary trooper named Metellus Artorianus. Do you know him?” It all started making sense to Artorius, judging from Calvinus’ expression.

The Master Centurion looked deflated. He looked away, briefly covering his eyes with his hand.

“I know him, though I have not seen him since he was a newborn,” he replied. “It’s easy to forget just how many years have passed. The last time I saw him, his mother reaffirmed what she had written to me in response to my letter which you now hold.” He then sat behind his desk, gazing off to the side, and shook his head. “I guess little Metellus is not so little anymore.”

“He’s here,” Artorius said after a short pause. “I’ve brought him with me.”

Calvinus then looked up at the Centurion and nodded. Artorius returned to the door to see Metellus standing rigid outside, sweat forming on his brow. Camillus was sitting at his desk, studiously staring at the document in front of him, with his ear cocked towards the door. Artorius motioned with his head and Metellus followed him into the office. The young man stood before the Master Centurion and saluted. Before he could speak, Calvinus raised a hand, silencing him.

“I know who you are,” he said, taking a further moment to appraise the trooper. A sad smile then crossed Calvinus’ face. “You have your mother’s eyes…and your father’s strong jaw. Take a seat; we have much to talk about.”

All three men sat at Calvinus’ desk. The letter he had sent to Rowana had been the notification of Metellus the Elder’s death. After some rummaging around, he then produced another letter from his desk drawer and handed it to the young trooper, whose hands trembled slightly as he read his mother’s response to the Centurion.

My Dearest Calvinus,

I thank you for the kind words regarding my beloved Metellus. I have no doubts about his heroism or valor, or indeed his actions saving your life. He may have died a hero, but he died nonetheless. My husband is still lost to me and I curse Rome for taking him from me, just as I curse the Senate and Emperor he died for, who would not even grant him the simple courtesy of honoring our marriage! He was my husband in the eyes of the gods, if not in the eyes of Rome.

Know that I would gladly follow my love into the afterlife, were it not for that I carry his child within me. He died never knowing he was to be a father, just as his child will grow up without knowing him. If it is a son that I bear, I will name him in honor of his father, but that will be his only link to Rome. I disavow any further connections with Rome, and my son will be raised as a member of my people, not his father’s, lest he share the same fate.

I ask that you do not try to find me. Though I will always have fond feelings for you, I bear nothing but disdain for the legions you serve! Farewell, Calvinus, until I see you again in the next life,

Rowana

“I did not honor her request,” Calvinus said when he saw that young Metellus had finished reading. “I sought her out, for no other reason than I wanted to make certain that the family of the man who saved my life was safe. You were but a few months old then. I was surprised that your mother was not angered at seeing me. Your father’s grave fund was paid to your grandfather in Ostia, so I gave Rowana a bit of my own money to provide for you both. That was the last I ever saw of her. I only wrote to her one other time, and that was after I met your uncle during the Germanic Wars.”

“Then that is how she knew where to find you,” Metellus observed, looking over to Artorius, who nodded in reply.

The Centurion was still in shock, the realization that the man he sat next to was, in fact, his brother’s son seemed surreal to him.

“Then it is time for you to take what is rightfully yours,” Artorius stated.

Metellus looked at him perplexed. “What do you mean, sir?”

In answer to Metellus’ question, Artorius stood and suddenly found a surge of purpose.

“Don’t you see? You are a Roman! The citizenship that will take you another twenty-four years in the auxilia to attain is already yours by right! You’ve been an auxiliary for the last year when in reality you should have been serving as a legionary, should you still wish to remain in the army.”

“But I cannot prove who my father was,” Metellus protested. “My mother is dead, and there is no one who can vouch for my lineage.”

“I possibly could,” Calvinus conjectured. “Though I admit it will be difficult. Even a Master Centurion carries little weight in matters such as this. I have not seen young Metellus since he was an infant, and if all were needed was an endorsement from me, then every auxiliary trooper in the Empire would be doing everything he could to find favor with the nearest Centurion.” Calvinus’ assessment made the situation look grim until Artorius’ face suddenly brightened.