James Mace - Soldier of Rome - The Sacrovir Revolt

Sacrovir waved a hand dismissively. “When we have rallied more to our cause, I will concern myself with secrecy. But for right now, I assure you we are in friendly territory. You see that man behind the bar?” He pointed to where a surely-looking fellow stood wiping down the bar top with a greasy rag. He was older, bald, with just a trace of gray stubble on his face, and a belly that protruded and rubbed against the wood. “What of him?” Florus asked, looking over his shoulder.

“This place is all he has. He makes a decent living off the drunkenness of locals and merchants. He is also nearly impoverished, owing to the enormous debts acquired at the hands of the Roman moneylenders. If he does not do something drastic soon, he will be reduced to begging on the streets.”

“A perfect candidate,” Florus observed.

Sacrovir nodded. “Yes, and there are many more like him, thousands more! Your own people, the Treveri have been equally manhandled and oppressed. The Pax Romana of Augustus has only led to the indebtedness of our nobles and the enslavement of our people. Gaul is slowly but surely losing her identity. Gauls now dress like Romans, they talk like Romans, they build their cities like Romans, and they even bear Roman names. Just look at our names! Both our families adopted the name ‘Julius’ in honor of the man who committed the wholesale murder of our people, and for what? So that we could see our culture and heritage vanish before our eyes?” He took a long quaff of ale before continuing.

“I need you to rally as many sympathetic nobles as you can from amongst your people. There are many who feel the same strain of taxation and debt that we do, combined with the insult of being denied the right to stand for what is supposed to be attainable for all noble citizens! If we wait too long, the entire nobility of Gaul will be bankrupt and enslaved, our influence with the people lost. Now is the time to strike, while we can still rally popular support. Start spreading the seeds of dissention, rally the most trustworthy of your peers, and meet me in Augustodunum in thirty days.”

Florus nodded, then stopped. “But what of the army? Surely you do not think the Emperor will just allow us to throw off the yoke of Roman oppression and secede from the Empire do you? The Rhine Army is but a few weeks march from here.”

At this Sacrovir smiled; an evil glint in his eye. “I do not believe the Roman Army will be much of a problem.”

Florus raised his eyebrows, his face showing skepticism. “Do tell.” “All in good time my friend. Very soon all shall be revealed. But I will reveal this: grave and scandalous news should be reaching the army on the Rhine, shortly, which will benefit our cause.”

Florus grunted. “I can’t wait to hear this ‘grave and scandalous news.’”

“I just need to verify a few facts before I speak of it,” Sacrovir affirmed. “Now let us drink to the days when Gaul was free!”

The Second Century stood in parade formation in front of their billets. Vitruvius was conspicuous by his absence, being sworn into the office of centurion by Valerius Proculus, Cohort Commander, as well as Gaius Silius, Legate of the Twentieth Legion. Caecina Severus, who commanded the Twentieth during the campaigns against Arminius, had finally been allowed to retire. Silius had been brought in to replace the commander of the Fifth Legion just prior to the last campaign of the war against Arminius. His leadership qualities had so impressed the Emperor that, when his tenure was over, Tiberius did not hesitate in granting his request for another command.

From top to bottom, the soldiers being promoted were brought before the century. First was Flaccus, as he accepted the staff that signified his promotion to optio. Next, Sergeant Statorius was handed the scroll, with his appointment to the position of tesserarius. Artorius held his breath as he waited for the next set of orders to be read. The century was in a column formation, and he stood at the extreme right of his section. Praxus stood directly in front of him, at the right of his own section. Artorius’ heart raced as Praxus was called forward to receive his promotion orders, his palms sweating as the newly promoted decanus returned to his place in formation.

“Legionary Artorius, post!”

Artorius stepped off and marched to the front of the formation, facing the centurion. Flaccus handed Macro two scrolls, each bearing a set of orders.

“Legionary Artorius, as a testament of your sound leadership, demonstrated valor, and fidelity to the Twentieth Legion, you are promoted to the rank of Decanus , Sergeant of Legionaries. Sergeant Artorius, you are hereby appointed as Chief Weapons Instructor for the Second Century. The individual fighting abilities of the men of the Second Century now rest in your capable hands.” With his left hand, he handed him both sets of orders, clasping his right hand with his own. “Congratulations, sergeant,” he said in a low voice.

The century erupted into an ovation as Artorius took his place with his section, poorly concealing a grin.

Artorius sat at his small desk that evening, reviewing the lessons that Vitruvius had drawn up years before. He found it ironic when the former chief weapons instructor himself came walking into the section’s room. He still wore the standard lorica segmentata body armor, though now it bore a harness of leather straps over the top, bearing his medals and decorations. It was tradition for centurions to display all of their awards for valor, even during day-to-day garrison operations. Vitruvius would soon trade in his segmentata and buy a suit of either lorica hamata mail or squamata scale armor. In addition to displaying their decorations, centurions were expected to purchase their own distinctive armor..

Artorius marveled at the number of awards Vitruvius had received over the years. There were numerous campaign medals and silver torques for valor displayed. Rumor spoke of him being decorated for valor eleven times over the course of his career, though this could never be verified. He did know that Vitruvius had been awarded the Civic Crown, Rome’s highest award for valor. He and Statorius saved the life of their former optio during the battle at the Ahenobarbi Bridges several years before. Statorius had also been awarded the Civic Crown, though both men would only be required to wear it during formal functions. The newly appointed centurion also wore the transverse crest, signifying his rank, atop his helmet, and he carried the traditional vine stick.

“That helmet looks good on you,” Artorius said, rising to his feet in respect.

Vitruvius motioned for him to take a seat as he removed his helmet and grabbed a stool. “I see you found my old notes for conducting weapons drill,” he remarked, pointing to the parchments on Artorius’ desk. “They were mainly just notes I made to myself when I was learning the job. I was thrown into the position and pretty much had to teach myself the job. Eventually it all became second nature.” “I only hope I can do the same,” Artorius replied.

“You will,” Vitruvius answered. “If you don’t, you and I will start up our little sparring sessions again!”

“Yes, sir,” Artorius replied with a nod.

Vitruvius looked down and shook his head. “ That is a term of address that is going to take some getting used to! How about we let it go when it’s just you and I, okay?”

“Sure thing, sir,” Artorius replied with a smirk.

“We’ve known each other long enough to drop the formalities when the men aren’t around. You’re about the last person I need calling me ‘sir,’ as if I need to be reminded that I am now a centurion.”

He and Artorius both laughed at that as Vitruvius continued.