Legionary

Chapter 22

The sun peeked over the horizon, coaxed by Zosimus’ buccina cry. He pulled the instrument from his lips and filled his emptied lungs — that’ll wake ‘em, he chuckled to himself. He rested on his shield, glad the urge to sleep had finally left him. The guard from last night had been thrown into jail for letting a group of recruits slip out of the fort during the night. Zosimus chuckled again as he reminisced on his own distant days as a troublesome recruit, and then jumped to attention at the echo of a rhythmic march coming from the east gate. Centurion Gallus strode beside Tribunus Nerva towards the officer’s quarters, both men wearing a hardened stare.

‘I can’t believe we’re actually late — pray to Mithras Wulfric is still comatose somewhere.’ Nerva cocked an eyebrow to his primus pilus as he placed a hand on the door. ‘Ready for this?’

‘How do we play it, sir?’ Gallus spoke quietly.

‘Keep our cool. We need to understand where he’s coming from,’ Nerva whispered, then added with a tilt of the eyebrows, ‘even if what he really needs is a good chinning.’

Gallus grinned as the door strained on its hinges, and then his face fell, stunned; sitting around the scarred oak table in the centre of the meeting hall, Wulfric and his men looked fresh and well into their discussions. A parchment map was pinned open with a goblet and a dagger, and a variety of carved wooden figures lay dotted across the etched landscape.

‘Good morning,’ Wulfric offered, not bothering to turn and face them.

Gallus glanced to his tribunus; Nerva bit back a frustrated sigh before mounting a cool smile.

‘Good morning, Tribunus Wulfric. I’m glad you could join us,’ he replied swiftly, cutting across the room and breaking into the huddle, discarding all etiquette. Gallus followed suit, watching the Goth’s eyes as Nerva bulldozed into the matter.

‘So you’re considering your options for recruitment, yes?’ Nerva snapped.

Wulfric’s eyes narrowed and he moved his lips to speak.

‘Okay,’ Nerva cut in, ‘you’ll be hard pressed to get a full complement of officers from Moesia alone,’ he sighed, lifting the two figurines positioned over the large dot of ink marking Durostorum. ‘If you want a strong legion, and I presume you do,’ Nerva waited just long enough for Wulfric’s face to flush in fury, ‘then you’ve got a three to four month sortie up and down the river. There are plenty of battle-ready officers along the frontier. The key is not to strip any one section too heavily. Not with the threat of invasion hanging at every ford and bridge these days. Where you recruit, you must also provision.’

Gallus swallowed the grin trying to envelop his features. Nerva could cut the brash figure in the middle of a pack of lions.

‘Your opinion is noted, Tribunus,’ Wulfric seethed. ‘But we have a specific brief, and time is of the essence if we are to achieve it. Battle-readiness inside two weeks.’

‘Preposterous,’ Nerva swiped an arm through the air. ‘Not worth the recruitment fees.’

‘I have my orders,’ Wulfric spoke slowly. ‘Directly from your emperor.’

Nerva fell silent, stumped. ‘Our emperor, surely?’

‘Of course,’ Wulfric nodded, a grin crossing his face as his colour lightened to normal. ‘Shall we get down to business?’ Wulfric suggested, waving his open palm over an empty stool.

Nerva sat, and then eyed the seven figures surrounding him. Then he looked to Gallus with the slightest of nods.

‘Shall we leave our officers to their business?’ Gallus offered, eyeing Wulfric’s guards.

Wulfric looked him up and down with vague interest. The air grew thick again before Wulfric flicked his index finger.

‘Very well, one to one it is.’

Gallus caught the glint of relief in Nerva’s eyes and then turned back to Wulfric’s men. ‘If you care to follow me, I’ll take you on a tour of the fort and our morning training session.’ With a series of grunts, the five guardsmen scraped their stools back, stood and filtered towards the doorway.

‘While you’re out there,’ Wulfric cut in, ‘mark the names of the best soldiers you see. We’ll be taking them.’