James Mace - Soldier of Rome - Heir to Rebellion

“Excellent, thank you,” Artorius replied, walking over with a slight limp still.

“How’s the leg, sir?” Felix asked. Artorius shrugged his shoulders and opened the satchel.

“It hurts, but what can you do? How about your little scratch?”

“Getting better, slowly but surely.” Felix lifted his tunic to show the Optio. The scar left behind was hideous, but the wound was mostly healed. “I’ve been working my stomach muscles more and should be returning to full duty within the next couple weeks.”

“And how is Lady Tierney?” Artorius asked, bringing a grin to the legionary. Though she may not have been a Gallic noblewoman any more, most of the men still addressed her as such as a sign of respect.

“Well enough, sir,” Felix replied, replacing his tunic. “She shares a house with Svetlana, which Mad Olaf purchased as a wedding present for his granddaughter.” Artorius furrowed his brow in contemplation.

“Valens isn’t anywhere near becoming a Centurion, so how exactly is it a wedding present?”

“Well Rome may not recognize it, but Valens and Svetlana did marry in a Nordic ceremony a couple weeks before you returned. It may not be legal by Roman law, but even Sergeant Magnus seemed to approve. Such practices are really not that uncommon when you think about it, sir.” Artorius frowned and nodded, for it was true. He did find it strange that Roman law forbade soldiers beneath the rank of Centurion from marrying, and yet they also encouraged such common-law ‘marriages.’ After all, it readily helped provide the next generation of legionaries; for the son of a soldier was more likely to follow his father into the ranks than the son of a non-soldier. A good number of men within the legion had come from such unions between legionaries and local women. Valens had been sired this way, so his union with Svetlana probably felt natural to him. The marriage of his own parents had not been legalized until his father’s retirement, when Valens was twenty and already a legionary himself.

Artorius felt himself grinning at the thought of Valens married as he sorted through the letters. One was addressed to him from Pontius Pilate. It read:

Hail Artorius, old friend and comrade in arms!

I do apologize for not having written sooner. It seems like I lost all track of time while I was away. I’ve just now returned from a brief administrative tour in Syria with Legio XII, Fulminata. Seems they were having a spot of problems over there, so Sejanus attached me to them for the last year. He said something about how it might do me some good to get a feel for the eastern provinces. Well I can certainly say I got a feel for it, alright! Justus Longinus accompanied me to Syria; he sends his regards, by the way. His liaison tour was over and he had to return to his post with Legio VI, Ferrata. I have to say that being in the east, even for such a short time was a real eye-opener for me. The people over there are quite strange, and the climate is constantly hot. Even so, I would not mind making a return to the east some day; for all its oddities, it is quite the exotic and exciting place.

As you can tell from my boisterous introduction, I am feeling in a bit of a celebratory mood. I was finally betrothed to my lovely Claudia! Though it will be a few years before we are able to marry, we are looking forward to spending a long and happy life together; hopefully one that will include many children! Claudia’s already made me promise that our first son is to be named Artorius, after you. A bit of a violation of the naming traditions perhaps, but who am I to say no? It seems that even though she has never met you, she loves you already. Can’t say I blame her, especially after you rescued her sister from the clutches of those rebel bastards. Diana has told us everything, about how you slew countless numbers of those traitors, and even about the impressive manner with which you destroyed that Greek. Forgive me if I don’t act surprised, old friend. Your valor and cunning will take you far in the Legions! I also understand that Diana has quite the affection for you. Too bad she cannot bear children; otherwise she would make any man a fine wife. A pity, really…

Another spot of good news, I have been made Deputy Prefect of the Praetorians! Sejanus recommended me personally for the position. Needless to say this caused some initial anger and jealousy amongst some of the other Tribunes who have been in the Praetorian Guard much longer than me. However, Sejanus explained that I was the only one with any significant combat experience to speak of, and that the other Tribunes would learn well from it. If that did not put an end to the critics, the Emperor’s hearty endorsement did. Tiberius himself came out to congratulate me on my posting and he even echoed Sejanus’ remarks that there will be bigger things to come for me. Perhaps a governorship will be in my future some day? One never knows.

I truly am blessed, old friend, both in my pending marriage and in my career. Though I have grown to love the benefits of bachelorhood, Claudia and I do adore each other, and I know we will be happy together. You will have to make a trip to Rome when we are wed, and bring some of the lads with you! I trust your judgment in regards to whomever you wish to invite.

My political and military careers are set, old friend. I have the endorsement of Sejanus, to say nothing of the favor of the Emperor himself. Know that I wish you the same success and happiness. I never told you this before, but I was deeply honored to have served with you in the Legions. I told your father as much, and he is very proud of you. Age, rank, and social status never mattered between us, and they never will. In many ways, I have always admired and looked up to you, as I still do. We have come a long way since our school days, Artorius. And while only the Fates know for certain, I feel that our paths will cross again in our careers. I look forward to that day. Until then, continue to make us proud, ‘Soldier of Rome.’ Your friend and brother in arms,

Pontius Pilate

At the Bridges over the Rhine, Braduhenna Wood, Frisia

A.D. 28

The Frisians knew it was all about timing. The Roman army was staged on the far side, overlooking the long bridges; three legions, plus massive numbers of auxilia and cavalry. Unbeknownst to the Romans, the bridges were treated with pitch and their support ropes weakened. A simple, but brilliant trick; allow the legions to start their crossing and then destroy the bridges out from under them.

The Frisians knew they could not cut the bridges too soon because the Romans would still have the bulk of their forces intact and would simply march twenty miles north to the ford and cross there. And yet if they waited too long…well the legions were a fearsome enemy and if allowed to mass their numbers they would smash through the Frisians and trample them into dust. One legion was staging to cross, followed by their auxiliaries. These particular troops looked to be strictly infantry, the Germanic auxiliary cavalry somewhere in the distance.

Hidden in a thicket a Frisian archer waited impatiently. It had rained recently, and he prayed the kindling he brought wrapped in many layers of cloth was still dry. His companion knelt next to him, flint and steel in hand. There were many such pairings in the thick undergrowth along the river bank. They would let the first wave of legionaries cross and then hit the bridges with fire while the auxilia crossed. That would trap a significant portion of their force, an entire legion at that, on the Frisian side of the river. The archer licked his lips in anticipation.

There was a fog on the far side of the river, which made Centurion Artorius apprehensive. Scouts had reported that the rebel army was huge, far larger than anticipated. One report had the enemy strength in the tens-of-thousands, though between the fog and dense woods this was impossible to verify for certain. If it was true Artorius had doubts as to whether or not their force would be large enough to defeat the Frisians even under ideal conditions. He also knew that whether they crossed here or at the ford to the north meant little. They would still be stretched thin and could only cross so many troops at a time. Speed would be the key; get enough men across to hold the far bank and allow the rest of the army to deploy.