James Mace - Soldier of Rome - Heir to Rebellion

“Rufio, why did you address me as Optio when I walked in?” he asked. Rufio’s grin broadened.

“Like I said, a lot has changed while you were gone. Flaccus retired and disappeared off the face of the planet. Macro immediately chose you to succeed him. I made a note of it on your pay chit. You will be getting about a month’s worth of back-pay, minus the expense of your horse! Your promotion has been back-dated to the day Flaccus retired.”

“I don’t understand,” Artorius remarked. “What about Statorius? He was next in line for the Optionate, I’m certain of it!”

“Yes, Statorius has moved up as well. He is working for Vitruvius now as his Optio. It’s been quite hectic, what with a turnover occurring at every Principal rank within the Century; Praxus is the new Tesserarius, by the way. Oh, and you have been replaced as Chief Weapons Instructor. Macro said with as big of a shakeup as this has caused-Camillus’ promotion came completely unexpected-he said no way in hell is he going to let you take on both duties.”

“So who replaced me?” Artorius was concerned. He wanted to make certain that whoever replaced him was competent enough to warrant the position. Plus the total realization of his having been selected for Optio seemed surreal.

“Me,” a voice said from the doorway. Artorius turned to see his Nordic friend, standing in the doorway.

“ Sergeant Magnus,” Rufio remarked. Artorius laughed out loud, reached out and embraced his friend hard, slapping him on the back.

“It’s about time!” he said with enthusiasm. “I take it they made you a section leader as well?” Magnus nodded.

“I took your place, as a matter of fact. Thankfully I picked up a couple of new guys, so I’ve almost got a full crew. Stop by and see me later; right now I’ve got to go over duty rosters with Praxus. Funny how most of us were at one time in the same section and now we’re running the entire Century…Oh, and just so you know your stuff has already been moved over to the Optio’s room.” Artorius shook his head as Magnus walked out. Indeed everything had changed overnight it seemed.

“At any rate, you need to go report to Macro. He said he wants to see you right away,” Rufio said, nodding his head towards the Centurion’s quarters. Artorius took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

“Enter!” he heard his Centurion boom. He opened the door to see Macro seated behind his desk, working some polish into his armor. It was a new set of squamata scale armor; highly ornate and very expensive.

“You know, everyone tells me I should let one of the servants do this for me,” Macro remarked. “However I find that there is a certain amount of personal pride to be taken in caring for one’s own armor. I have a lot more faith in my own abilities, plus I’m not so lazy that I cannot take care of my own equipment. Have a seat.” He motioned Artorius towards a chair in front of his desk. The newly appointed Optio readily accepted, his leg still giving him pains from time-to-time.

“So how was your journey?”

“It wasn’t too bad,” Artorius replied. “My leg still hurts, though it will probably always be that way. I have to tell you Macro I am completely surprised, but also deeply honored, that you selected me to replace Flaccus as Optio.”

“Well you shouldn’t be surprised,” Macro replied, handing the armor to a servant, who carried it to the Centurion’s quarters. “In my mind, there was no one else. I know this Century is going through tumultuous times, what with every senior officer moving up or moving on. And with my selection for Primus Ordo pending, we need to get this Century on its feet as quickly as possible. Truth be told, Vitruvius wanted you over in the Third, and I was going to keep Statorius. Proculus put a stop to that immediately. He said you were too close personally with Vitruvius, and that that could lead to a potential conflict of interest. So it looks like we’re stuck working together.” He winked at the last remark.

“So when will you be leaving us?” Artorius asked.

“I don’t know for sure, but probably not for at least another year or two. Don’t worry, we have time to get you and all the other senior officers assimilated. We had to promote a number of younger legionaries to Decanus as well, and they will need time to get up to speed.

“I won’t lie to you Artorius; your reputation is growing rapidly. It started at Angrivarii, when you killed the Cherusci war chief, Ingiomerus. It exploded when you swept the Legion Champion tournament; and your actions during and after the Sacrovir Revolt has not gone unnoticed. Saving the life of Lady Diana was no small feat either. I must tell you though, that while this has garnered your status within certain circles, most importantly with the men of this Century, it has led to animosity from others.” Artorius looked confused at the Centurion’s last remark.

“What do you mean? Why should anyone bear any resentment towards me? All I have ever done is strived to be the best legionary I could be, and if that has meant taking the lead when needed, then so be it!” He felt his anger rising at the thought of fellow soldiers resenting him for doing his job.

“First off, your age is a factor,” Macro replied. “I went through the same thing myself when I made Centurion, though given the circumstances; we all had more important things to worry about, what with the rebellion on the Rhine and the wars with the Cherusci. How old are you, Artorius?”

“I’m twenty-five, what of it, Sir?” Macro raised his hands, emphasizing his point.

“You have no political connections whatsoever. Fact of the matter is, you are the youngest Optio in the Third Cohort, and though I have not verified this for certain, you may be the youngest in the Legion. No one gets promoted through the ranks that quickly without some type of connections back in Rome. You are by no means the youngest to ever be promoted to the Optionate, however in almost every case of those who do make it by your age, they are either the sons of powerful magistrates, or else they have sponsors within the Equestrian or Senatorial classes who are looking out for their careers. You have none of these.” This last remark was not entirely correct, as Artorius was well-connected with Pontius Pilate; though the Tribune was still very young in his own career. A sinking feeling of understanding came upon Artorius.

“What you are telling me is, there are those within the Legion who are connected as you say, and they harbor animosity towards me for having been selected ahead of them.” Macro nodded in acknowledgment. Artorius immediately rose to his feet, his anger boiling over.

“ Gods damn it! What right do any of those bastards have to say who a Centurion should or should not choose as his Optio? Is it my fault they have failed to earn promotion based on their own merits, that they look to someone else to make their careers for them? I cannot help it if their own abilities are so fucking pathetic that they cannot stand on their own. Who are these men?” Macro shook his head, his own expression still calm.

“At ease, Optio. Sit down and relax. Take consolation in that none of the dissenters are from this Century. The men were unanimous in their enthusiasm to have you as their Optio. They wouldn’t stop chanting your name when I broke the news to them! I think most of them are hoping you will move up to succeed me, when my time comes to move to the First Cohort.”

“Do you think that will happen?” Artorius asked, regaining his composure and taking his seat.

“If I have anything to say about it, you will rise to the Centurionate at an even younger age than I did. Unfortunately, I don’t have much say in who replaces me when I go. My gut instincts tell me that they will put some political appointee in my place, just to make an example; demonstrate who has the real power within the Legions.