Christopher Buckner - Swords of Rome

Valerius stared at Gaius, knowing full well he had not mentioned the particulars of the message or what is transpiring in the Alps as they spoke. However, as he fought to hold back his smile, he knew that Gaius was smarter than he had ever been, and had deduced that knowledge from careful observation.

“The Senate is fearful of a possible Carthaginian naval invasion of either Sicily or southern Italy. If that is to happen, then the Sixth needs to be on call and ready to respond, the moment the first whore-sons set foot on our territory.”

“Even if the fight is in the north?” Gaius asked, sounding disappointed.

“Other legions will be levied. We have our orders, centurion. Now, if there isn’t anything else that is pondering your young mind, carry out my orders and have the first cohort ready to move by sunrise. You are dismissed.”

“Yes, sir,” Gaius saluted before he turned and quickly left Valerius’ office, keeping his smile from being too obvious, only with difficulty.

As he walked outside, Gaius saw Maurus was already waiting for him before he quickly ran over, a big cheerful grin on his face.

“Well?” Maurus eager asked.

“Well what?”

“You know what I mean. Are we going to war or not?”

“My word, Maurus, I think you should see the medicos. You look terrible,” Gaius observed as the deep bruises on his friend’s face had been swollen to large purple welts. He hated to think what the rest of his body looked like by now, but the young soldier shrugged it off, too excited by the news that Gaius was withholding.

“Forget that. Just answer my original question: are we going to war ?”

Gaius chuckled, “Yes, or so it would seem. The first cohort is heading for Rome tomorrow, and the rest of the legion is on standby, until further orders are giving. So, it would appear the rumors are true, for once, the enemy is coming to our home, and we’re going to stop them.”

Maurus couldn’t hold back his cheer as he beat his fists into the sky, hollering at the top of his lungs.

“Oh, such wonderful news. Finally, those Carthaginian bastards will fill the iron of the Wolves once again. And off too Rome, how grand, you’ll get to see home again, my dear friend.”

Gaius’ smile hardened sudden as Maurus’ words resonated deeply through his mind. It had not dawned on him, until now — home. He would be going home.

“I will not keep you, my friend. I will go tell the boys the news. I doubt, however, very many of us will be getting much sleep tonight.”

Maurus ran off, still joyful as he quickly spread the news across the whole camp. For Gaius, however, the excitement of the moment had escaped him as he walked toward one of the larger structures in the camp, needing to be alone so he may be with his own thoughts a moment longer.

Grabbing a lantern, which hung on the wall near the entrance of the stables, Gaius walked down the narrow path that was centered between two rows of holding pins that housed the army’s horses. When he reached the one, he was moving toward, Gaius opened the gate where his horse, a black-coated stallion, which he named Apollo, raised his head with interest as Gaius stepped inside, hanging the light on the wall.

The horse lifted his ears and nodded his head as Gaius ran his hand along Apollo’s neck.

“Hello, my friend, guess what?” Gaius spoke softly.

Apollo, whom Gaius had named in honor of his father, recalling the story that Valerius had told him ten years ago near the camp fire, about his father’s bravery, of course did not respond as he nudged his master, indicating that he wanted Gaius to continue rubbing his neck.

“We are going to Rome,” Gaius finished, his voice still low. In the distance, he could hear the beginnings of celebration as word had spread quickly about the prospects of going to war.

Most of the legion was young — legionaries from sixteen to twenty-two, with a few hundred older veterans, yet few who saw action during the last war. So, with excitement, the Sixth was eager to prove itself in doing what it had been trained for, glorious war. Gaius’ mind was, however, trapped in the past. It hadn’t dawned on him that he would be going home, back to Rome until Maurus had said as such. Now, his thoughts plagued him with memories of Antony and Julia, who had never been far from his mind.

“I wonder what they are like now. Antony was only a year younger than me — how he must have grown. And his sister, Julia — I’ve told you about her, haven’t I?” Gaius mussed.

Again, Apollo failed to reply.

“She must be sixteen. I wonder what has become of her, how beautiful she must be now, nearly a woman — a Roman lady.”

Gaius felt silly, not because he was speaking with his horse, but at the memories of the girl, he only remembered as a frightened child that had cried in his arms when he left home.

“I wonder if she even remembers me. So much time has gone by. I’m not so different, am I?” Apollo lifted his head, staring at Gaius with his big brown eyes. “I am being silly, aren’t I? We were children, and she was much younger than I. Our time together was brief, less than a year. How can I expect either of them to recall a distant friend they hardly knew?”

Gaius knew that he could not expect their memories of him to be as cherished as his. They had lives of their own; years to make new friends, to fall in and out of love. He couldn’t help but feel selfish and arrogant to think that he meant as much to them as they did to him.

“I should not worry about such things, should I? We might be going to war soon. I’ve trained, and I’ve excelled at becoming a soldier. I have a duty to my men and to my country, and yet, I can’t stop thinking of them — of her.”

Gaius put his head down on his horse’s neck, rubbing its fur with his hand as he asked his last question.

“Tell me, Apollo, am I a fool for being in love with a dream?”

Gaius waited, but Apollo just made a faint noise that was either disagreement, or a statement that he was indeed a fool. Which it was, he could merely guess.

“Thanks, you are a lot of help, you know that,” Gaius smiled as he went back to brushing his horse. Outside, the camp was making preparations for war. What would come next filled Gaius’ young mind with all sorts of possibilities. At the very least, he would get the chance to see Rome again. He wondered how much the city had grown since his last visit.

In three days time, he would know.

A harsh wind cut through the city just as thick gray clouds opened and unleashed their captive water, which seemed to fall like buckets down onto the sooty paved streets.

The rain beaded off Gaius’ red cloak as if it was in retreat the moment it touched him. The discomfort wasn’t enough to impair the joy that he felt, to be back in the grand city he had only visited once in his youth. Nothing about Rome seemed to have changed from last he remembered; running through the streets as a boy, enjoying all the wonders his young mind hadn’t experienced before. Only now, his perspective was different as he looked at his city with older eyes.

He wore full armor, the same dark leather plate that his father had given him ten years ago, when he left home for the Sixth Legion. A long red cape draped from his shoulders and wrapped around the hindquarters of his horse. Apollo trotted in a slow rhythmic pattern as if the animal believed he was on parade. The hooves of Valerius’ steed, who rode beside Gaius, echoed down the crowded streets, causing all who stood before them to step aside as they headed towards the great forum, in the heart of the city, and while not customary to ride horses in the city, Valerius wanted to reach the Senate without pause.