Legionary

Chapter 26

‘Pull yourself together, runt!’ One of the legionaries grunted.

Pavo felt his legs buckle again, but forced himself straight as the two soldiers dragged him ruthlessly across the training court. He shook his head clear, blinking at the starkness of the afternoon light after hours in the dimness of the jail. The shouting and general bustle of training swirled in the air to his left, and mocking cheers hurled Pavo’s way from the recruits were cut short by a roar from Brutus.

Pavo felt his skin burn in shame, and then he saw their destination — the officers’ quarters. The doorframe tore a gash in his left shoulder as he was bundled into the room without ceremony. Before him, around a large rounded oak table, stood Centurion Gallus along with an even more ornately decorated officer who was shaven headed and jowl faced, but the wild glint in his eyes was what marked him out — as if he wanted to lurch across the table and grasp Pavo by the throat. Tribunus Nerva, he feared, a firebrand who would issue the lash himself, going by the stories he had heard. Their faces were fixed and stony. His knees smashed against the flagstones of the floor as the guards dropped him suddenly to salute the officers.

‘On your feet!’ Gallus roared. ‘You’re marked out as a troublemaker, a bad apple, soldier.’

Pavo felt his tongue loosen — desperate to spill the whole sorry saga, when the door clicked behind him and Brutus walked in to join the panel of officers scrutinizing his sorry stance. The first utterings of a reply tumbled from his mouth only to be sharply repressed by a heavy elbow in his back.

‘Shut your mouth, the primus pilus is speaking!’ The giant soldier behind him growled. Pavo caught Brutus’ glare; stern-faced, his eyes widened just enough to underline the warning.

‘We need only obedient legionaries in the Claudia, who will serve her and her officers without question. While in the fort you are under orders to follow protocol.’ Gallus sighed and shook his head. ‘And being caught beating another recruit to a pulp outside of the fort after the curfew…’

Pavo looked Gallus in the eye and shame burned on his skin. This was not the path his father would have wanted him to take. He could only hope Brutus might have passed a sympathetic word on his behalf.

‘…and to be caught out by the primus pilus,’ Gallus shook his head, ‘demonstrates not only unruly behaviour, but sheer stupidity!’

Pavo’s mouth dried like parchment. Lashes would be a relief in comparison with this humiliation. Months of red raw flesh on his back could only hurt him physically. It would be just another layer on top of the network of scars on his torso from his time under Tarquitius’ roof.

‘The typical punishment for this misdemeanour is not pretty. One hundred lashes,’ Gallus paused, ‘and the first three will lick the flesh from your back.’

Pavo gulped. So it was to be.

Gallus glared at him. ‘But that fate has conspired to save you is a blessing you should not forget. Centurion Brutus assures me that you have previously shown yourself to be more than the sorry runt that these events might suggest. Together with that, our legion is being stripped of key men by our Gothic friends out there,’ Gallus paused, clenching his fists with a glance to Nerva, ‘just while reports are coming in of rogue Gothic warbands crossing the river all over the province — Thervingi who are not happy with their leader’s truce with Rome, apparently. And it’s not just Fritigern’s lot; Athanaric’s men are only too happy to join in, it seems.’

Pavo shuffled from foot to foot in discomfort as the officers shared dark looks, their frustration palpable.

‘We’re on full alert for Gothic raids and need every man fit for duty. Back to the barracks, soldier.’

‘Yes, sir. Thank you, s…’ Pavo began.

‘But don’t think you’re in the clear,’ Gallus cut in, ‘You’re on the precipice. Should there be a next time, I will have no say in it,’ the centurion leaned forward, eyes searing, ‘the lash won’t even come into it. You will be executed.’

‘Yes, sir,’ Pavo shivered.