Semper Fidelis

Chapter 66

The gods, Ruso decided, could never be accused of lacking a sense of humor. A few days ago he and Tilla had saved Victor from being locked up inside the fort at Calcaria. Now not only was Victor locked up in a damp and stinking cell at Calcaria, but Ruso was in there with him.

He examined the crust on the chunk of barley bread that had been issued with his cup of water, and which seemed to have been left to mature for several weeks before serving. That mark was probably just a scrape, although it could equally have been the tooth marks of a rat that had made a failed attempt to break into it. It felt hollow as he tapped it on his knee. He wondered how well Victor’s jaw had healed and whether the recruit would have to smash off chunks of bread against the wall and then suck them.

At the moment Victor was ignoring the food altogether and sitting with his elbows propped on his knees and his head in his hands. This was not good. He had walked ten miles: He needed to eat.

“You could build houses with this stuff,” Ruso observed.

No response.

“I found out who betrayed you,” he said.

Victor gave a vague shrug as if he did not care.

“Tilla’s doing her best to get us both out of here.”

If he was pleased to hear this, it did not show.

“If you want to survive this, you need to eat.”

Another shrug signaled that at least the man had heard what he said.

“I believe this is food,” remarked Ruso, eyeing the tooth marks again, “although it’s rather hard to tell.”

He was trying to think what else he could contribute to this one-sided conversation when Victor’s head jerked up. “What does it matter? I am cursed anyway!”

Gods above, was he back to that? “If there’s a curse, Victor, it’s not on you.”

“No?” demanded Victor. “Then you know nothing!”

Ruso’s reply was formed in British. “So my wife often tells me,” he said.

“But I am willing to learn.”

Victor buried his face again. Ruso had run out of things to say. Perhaps that was why Victor started to talk.

At times his voice dropped to a whisper and it was hard to follow what he was saying, but the outline of the story was plain enough.

It was a sorry tale. Geminus had devised a ruthlessly efficient system of punishment for offenders, of whom there would doubtless be many amongst a bunch of raw recruits. Instead of going to the bother of flogging them, he would gather all the other recruits together and have the miscreant of his choice chained to a block like a baited beast in the amphitheater. The other wrongdoers were lined up to attack him one by one. “He made us roar,” mumbled Victor. “Like animals. And if you didn’t hit hard enough or roar loud enough, you were the next one chained up.”

That was not the worst of it. According to Victor, while Geminus’s desperate victims fought like wounded beasts, their comrades were expected not only to cheer them on but to place bets on the outcome. “It could go on for hours.” said Victor bitterly. “They called it Sports Night.”

Ruso let out a long breath. There were many questions he wanted to ask, but he dared not interrupt.

“Then they let Dannicus drown. Sulio heard the ferryman yelling at Geminus, asking permission to go and get them. Geminus made him stay back, saying it was too dangerous.” Victor snorted. “Too dangerous for the ferry, but he still made them swim.”

“Why would he do that?”

“Because him and Dexter had money on Dann not making it,” said Victor without hesitation. “That was when me and Tad stopped trying to pretend it would be all right in the end. We wrote a letter to the legate.”

With each day that passed, their hopes rose that the message had got through. Almost a week had gone by when Geminus announced the latest Sports Night. As they stumbled down the dark streets to the warehouse, they tried to assure each other that tonight would be no worse than usual. It was too soon for a reply, and too long since the letter had left. If it had been intercepted, Geminus would have acted before. But Geminus was a man who enjoyed a slow revenge. When all the recruits were assembled, he called Victor and Tadius out into the center, held their letter up, and made them read it aloud.

“And they kept us there, and Tad was chained, and they … they …” Victor hid his face in his hands. “He was my best friend,” he whispered. “But I was too frightened to stop.”

Ruso let out a long, slow breath.

“I just wanted it to be over.”

“You should never have been put in that position.”

Victor shook his head. “Marcus bribed the gate guards to get me out. He said all the lads chipped in. I think he lied.” He shifted his position on the damp mud floor. “I wouldn’t have bothered saving someone who did what I did.”

Ruso said, “It had to be one of you.”

But Victor was beyond comfort. “Every morning,” he said, “I wake up to another day Tad will never see. And he’ll never see it because I was a coward.” He looked up. “We were all cowards, sir. One way or another. That’s the curse.”

Ruso closed his eyes, imagining the shame of men forced to make the choice Geminus had given them. Men made complicit in the deaths of their comrades. How would he feel if he had been compelled to fight for his life against a friend? It was unimaginable. Valens, he supposed, would have fought back. Albanus would probably have apologized for his blood making a mess on Ruso’s fists.

Victor was still talking. “I went to see his girl. I told her the truth. I thought perhaps if she forgave me …”

Ruso already knew that forgiveness had not been granted.

Victor said, “He said it would turn us into men.”

It had turned them into beasts. Ruso felt almost a physical ache in his chest at the cruel waste of young men who had joined the Legion eager to better themselves in the service of an emperor who had never heard of them. He asked gently, “Did you kill Geminus?”

“I wish I had.”

“Do you know who did?”

“No. And if I knew, I would never tell you.”

“Next time they ask, don’t say that. Just say what you know. Don’t antagonize them.”

“Thanks.”

“Be a friend to yourself, Victor. If not for your own sake, then for your family.”

Victor gave a snort of derision. “Like I was a friend to Tadius?”

Heavy footsteps were approaching. A key scraped in the lock, and within seconds Ruso was being unchained and ordered to his feet.

“Where are you taking me?”

“Tribune wants to see you.”

“Hah!” he heard Victor shout after him, his voice suddenly hard. “Tell the tribune his little trick failed. The native didn’t confess!”