Fallen Legion Read online

  "Off with you now, Cassius," Marcus whispered to the dying soldier. "Into the waiting arms of our Lord Pluto. Your fate is in his hands now.

  "As for the rest of you," Marcus said as he wrestled his sword free of the entangling bands of metal, "I suggest you go to the streets and join your fellow citizens. Fight the Sicambrii for the good of your people; if you meet any others who felt forced into their service, as you did, give them the same opportunity which I gave you. If they wish to fight against the Sicambrii and the traitor Vestatian, let them join us in the call to arms. If they do not accept the offer of rebellion against the Sicambrii, kill them."

  The three remaining soldiers rose to their feet and bowed their heads to Marcus in acknowledgement of his leadership. Two of them hurried out of the forum and into the streets; the remaining guard stood before Marcus, staring at him nervously.

  "What is it?" Marcus asked impatiently.

  "It's just...well," the guard stammered nervously, "General Ulpius, I had heard that after Agrippinensis you fell victim to the flaws of the flesh, and that you were no longer the mighty warrior I had served under so long ago. It is good to see you in fighting form again, sir."

  "Indeed," Marcus said with a hearty laugh. "It's good to be back in fighting form. Now run, soldier! We have a mission to carry out."

  The soldier nodded his acknowledgement and ran out the door, following close on the heels of his fellow guards. Marcus shook his head bemusedly, turning to his companions with a smile on his face. His smile died quickly as he beheld the looks on the faces of his friends; every single one of them looked as if they had witnessed the most horrifying spectacle of their lives. Marcus opened his mouth to ask them what the matter was which startled them so, but was interrupted before he even had the chance to speak.

  "Who in the name of all the spirits," an all too familiar voice cried from behind Marcus, "dares to disturb the ruling council of this province, assembled by the command of its rightful ruler?"

  "One who has been wronged by the traitor who dares to proclaim leadership of this province," Marcus said in a booming, almost unrecognizable voice. He didn't even turn to face the speaker. He didn't need to. "One who has, for far too long, sat by and endured your pathetic, stumbling attempts at leadership. One who has come at the command of the Gods themselves to rid the world of a puny, half-witted, sad excuse for a human being," Marcus slowly turned to face a very red-faced Julianus Vestatian and a dozen armed Sicambrii warriors. Marcus grinned widely at the look of shock on Vestatian's face.

  "Surprised to see me, you slow-witted farce of a human being? I thought you might be," Marcus said, his dark grin slowly spreading to his eyes. "But not quite as surprised as I expect that you shall be when I tear that ugly little head of yours from your scrawny neck."

  "How dare you speak to your Governor that way," Vestatian sputtered. "And how dare you wear the uniform of the Legions? You have dishonoured the soldiers you served with, Marcus. You are no longer a General. You are not even a Roman citizen anymore...you are a traitor. Very soon, you shall be a dead traitor whose name shall never be spoken again, save as a whispered cautionary tale told by parents to their children, warning the sons and daughters of the Roman Empire to never be so arrogant as to overreach their grasp."

  "Those are brave words," Marcus said, "for a man who has not only betrayed his people for the counsel of barbarians and heathens, but who has also betrayed the very Gods he is supposed to serve. When the dust has settled from the clashes that shall arise in the days to come, we shall see who stands where in the eyes of the Emperor and the Gods. While one of us shall indeed become a cautionary tale for the generations who shall follow us, it shall not be me."

  "Fool," Vestatian spat. "You shall die here today. Men, kill these intruders."

  Turning on his heel, Julianus Vestatian stormed out of the foyer, leaving his Sicambrii entourage behind him. The warriors glared menacingly at Marcus and his companions, their battleaxes raised and ready to fight. Well,Marcus thought, best not to disappoint them.

  As Marcus leapt forward to begin the fray with the Sicambrii warriors, he was joined by Vito, Domitian, and Vincenzo - each of whom took up positions nearby, depending on their particular ability. Vincenzo leapt and spun around the foyer acrobatically, dodging and weaving between the combatants in an attempt to jockey for position behind the warriors. Domitian took his place beside Marcus, fighting toe to toe against the Sicambrii as any true soldier would. Vito took a more leisurely position on the outskirts of the action, leaping back and forth to take stabs at errant Sicambrii with his dagger whenever the opportunity presented itself. Although they outnumbered the Roman agressors by more than three to one, the chaotic violence of the Sicambrii was no match for the methodical, calculated advance of the Roman men. Where the Sicambrii fought erratically and without purpose, their enemies dodged, weaved, twisted and attacked as if they were of one mind. Domitian dropped to one knee in time to allow Marcus' sword to thrust over his head and into the throat of one of the Sicambrii warriors; at the same time, Domitian hacked downward as Marcus leapt upward, his sword slicing through the ankles of another one of the Sicambrii. The battle continued in this manner for nearly ten full minutes before the final Sicambrii fell to Marcus' blade.

  Standing over the fallen corpses of the enemy, Marcus glanced at Domitian knowingly, then rushed to Alexandra's side. The couple embraced, not even noticing that the sheen of blood which coated Marcus' armour was staining Alexandra's robes a pinkish tint. Marcus kissed Alexandra lightly on the lips, smiling happily as he stared deeply into her eyes. Neither said a word; the simple pleasure of holding each other was enough to content them both fully.

  "Should we pursue Vestatian," Vincenzo remarked, "or are you planning standing there like a pair of fools for the rest of the afternoon?"

  "There is no need to pursue Vestatian," Marcus said. "He'll be long gone by now, trying to gather his forces to quash this little rebellion, no doubt."

  "It will prove an interesting surprise for him when he discovers that his forces have been crushed without his knowledge," Domitian said.

  "I doubt they will be crushed," Marcus said, "but there is no doubt that they will be greatly reduced...reduced enough that when the time comes for our forces to battle each other face to face, we shall stand a chance of achieving victory."

  Chapter XVI

  The heady scent of rain and mud cloyed Marcus' nostrils as he inhaled. His eyes fluttered open, taking in the scene before him with no small measure of surprise. It seemed like he had fallen asleep in his room at the newly secured Governor's palace only moments ago, dropping into a peaceful slumber with his wife by his side. Now he was standing atop a familiar hill; the plains of Agrippinensis were spread out before him, illuminated in shadowy darkness. The sky overhead was dark and ominous, though the clouds had obviously deposited their load of water upon the ground before Marcus had arrived. The plains themselves were mostly verdant and green, but they still bore the scars of the climatic battle which had stained their surface with bloody wounds years before. Months of rain had washed the blood away, but deep gouges still ran across the plain, evidence of the heavy impact of siege weapons amidst the chaotic fray of battle.

  It was only after standing there, surveying the plains before him for several minutes, that Marcus gradually became aware of a presence standing behind him. The awareness was borne not of any of his bodily senses, for no detectable phenomena existed to give away the mysterious presence. It was simply there, and so powerful was the presence that Marcus instinctively knew precisely who it was.

  "My Lord," Marcus said, casting his gaze to the ground at his feet, "what have I done to deserve this honour?"

  "Surely you jest," Mars' distinctive resonating voice came from behind Marcus. The God of War stepped forward, side by side with Marcus, though the deity towered over the comparatively tiny soldier. "You have run Julianus Vestatian out of his stronghold and set fear in his heart. What is more, you have assemble
d a formidable army and are preparing to beat back the swine when he attacks. I can think of no better accomplishment which makes you worthy of my counsel."

  "I beg to differ, my Lord," Marcus said. "There is nothing I can do which would make me truly worthy of standing in your presence. My accomplishments in recent days have been nothing more than a feeble attempt to make up for my weakness after my defeat at Vestatian's hand so long ago."

  "You are far too concerned with that day," Mars said. "Your defeat was hardly that; at the time, you were not in command of the assembled army. Had it not been for Governor Ceresius' arrogance, you would have triumphed that day. Nonetheless, what is done is done, and your fall from grace has served to strengthen and shape you into a warrior the likes of which has not graced the world for generations."

  "I thank you for your kind words, my Lord," Marcus said. "It is my most fervent hope that I shall be able to live up to the expectations that those compliments have set."

  "Do not worry about that," Mars said. "Soon enough, the time will come for the final battle between the Roman forces and the Sicambrii horde. When that time comes, there is no doubt in my mind that you shall prove your strength with great distinction.

  "However, I have not brought you here simply to sing your praises," Mars said. "I have come carrying grave portents for the days to come, as well as advice on how to emerge from these trying times victorious. I suggest that you listen well to what I have to say, or your fate could be sealed."

  "I shall, of course, heed your words well, my Lord, and follow your advice to the letter."

  "I'm sure you will," Mars said. "And for that reason, my first piece of advice is this: quit looking at the damnable ground. Your feet have nothing to say in this matter, and watching them will not be of any help to you."

  "Forgive me, my Lord," Marcus said, "but I am not worthy of looking directly at you."

  "That didn't seem to bother you when we granted you and your wife the privilege of gracing the halls of Mount Olympus recently. In fact, if I recall correctly - and I do - you were more inclined to treat us as little more than figments of your imagination. Figments of your imagination which were worthy of your respect, undoubtedly, but figments of your imagination nonetheless. What has changed since that day?"

  "With all due respect, my Lord, I have since learned that you were not simply the figment of a mind made delusional by torture. I simply did not believe that the Lords and Ladies of Olympus would place so much value upon my life that they would allow me to see them in their true forms."

  "And we have not," Mars said with a rumbling laugh. "Make no mistake, Marcus, you have not seen any of us in our true forms. Your mind would be unable to comprehend us as we truly exist. We simply revealed ourselves to you in a form which you would be able to understand, and which would not overload the sensory functions of your mind. That, however, is a matter of semantics. We did reveal ourselves to you, and we did command you to do our will. Today is no different."

  "So," Marcus said slowly, gradually coming to grips with the weight of Mars' words, "I am not really on the plains of Agrippinensis right now? This is simply an illusion, created by you so that my mind has a context wherein you can appear to me in a way that will not overwhelm me?"

  "You show remarkable intelligence and wisdom," Mars said approvingly. "Very few mortals - even few of your philosophers - are able to grasp what you have grasped so quickly. To answer your question, you are both here and not here, in much the same way that I am both here and not here. You are, in a very real sense, still sleeping contentedly beside your wife in a secure room in the Governor's palace. At the same time, this is not a dream in the sense of how you understand dreams. You are present at Agrippinensis right now, at this very moment, at the same time that you are in bed with your wife.

  "Do not try to understand every detail of this revelation," Mars said, noting the puzzled look on Marcus' face. "Content yourself with knowing this: through the power of the Gods, I have brough you here while still leaving you at your home, and have chosen to reveal myself to you in a form which you will understand and revere."

  "I believe I understand," Marcus said, though he was not entirely certain that he really did understand everything Mars had said.

  "Good," Mars said. "Because now I must show you something."

  With a grand, sweeping gesture, Mars waved his massive hand in front of his body. The air in front of the deity rippled and twisted, quickly giving way to a window suspended in mid-air. On the other side of the window, Marcus could see thousands of men milling about, dressed in the coarse, heavy garments of the Sicambrii. In the centre of the swirling mass of humanity stood a single man, garbed in refined clothes of obviously Roman design. Even as the view from the window swooped down toward the man, Marcus recognized Julianus Vestatian. No other self-respecting Roman would so willingly associate with the barbarians, Marcus thought. At least, no other self-respecting Roman whose heart still pumps in his chest.

  "Obviously, there is no need to introduce those who you see before you," Mars said. "And I'm sure that a man of your caliber is able to recognize exactly what is going on."

  "It's Vestatian," Marcus hissed, "and he's gathering his army. Preparing to march on Cologne, no doubt, and to lay siege to the city which he still views as his own."

  "Not quite," Mars said, "though that was his original intent. When Julianus Vestatian reached the first of his Sicambrii camps and saw the damage your men had wrought, he very nearly went insane with rage. It turns out that your armies have descended upon the Sicambrii encampments exactly as you planned, and with very few casualties amongst their own numbers, they have managed to cull the numbers of the barbarians significantly. As quickly as they attacked, they departed. Congratulations are in order when you greet your men, Marcus."

  "Indeed they are," Marcus said. "But will it be enough? There are obviously still thousands of men gathered around Vestatian, and undoubtedly thousands more on the way to his side. They will still outnumber us on the battlefield, and the barbarians are seasoned warriors. Our men are still green, by and large."

  "An inexperienced Roman warrior is more than a match for an experienced barbarian," Mars said. "At least, they are so when they are lead by a man of skill and wisdom. You are such a man, Marcus, and you shall lead your men to victory under the Roman flag.

  "But you must be cautious. That very leadership which shall carry you to victory over the Sicambrii is exactly what endangers you right now."

  "I do not understand," Marcus said. "How can that which will lead me to victory also be something which could lead to my downfall?"

  "It could be so because of one amongst your number," Mars said heavily. "One who craves the position you now enjoy; one who you would never expect to betray you. In fact, he is one who would never believe that he is about to betray you is going to do precisely that."

  "Vincenzo?"

  "No," Mars said with a hearty laugh. "Vincenzo is far more steadfast a companion than you might believe. Although he enjoys mocking you every bit as much as you enjoy mocking him, he is one who will fight beside you until the very end of your days. No, I am afraid the danger comes from a very different source. I am speaking of your friend and fellow soldier, the one whom you admire: the one named Domitian Caelius."

  "Surely you are mistaken," Marcus said. "Domitian would never betray us. He has fought beside me for many years; he has been a steadfast companion through nearly my entire career in the Legions. There is a bond between us that can never be broken - what possible reason could he have for wanting to betray me and his fellow Romans?"

  "He believes that you have usurped his position in this rebellion," Mars said. The deity seemed somehow both concerned and aloof at the same time. "He envisioned himself to be the leader of the movement, the one who would restore the rightful rule of law and order to this province, and you have taken over the duties which he believes should be his own. Even worse, you have stolen the heart of the one whom Domitian loves; alre
ady the seeds of hatred have been planted in his heart, and they shall soon explode into a cataclysm which could endanger everything that both you and he have worked for."

  "Hold on," Marcus said. "Whose heart have I stolen? The only one who has given her heart to me is my wife, Alexandra, and it is certainly not something I have stolen. How could I possibly steal something which was given to me freely, just as my own heart was given to her?"

  "The fact that Alexandra has given you her love does not matter to Domitian," Mars said. "For years, he has had designs on her, seeking to make her his wife. She always eluded his grasp, having taken a vow of chastity as part of her vows to my Temple. After so many years of chasing her, you simply turned up in the city one day, and captured her heart and won her over. It has caused a hardness and bitterness in his heart against you, Marcus, and it is that bitterness which could well lead to disaster in the days to come."

  "What do you believe that Domitian will do? I cannot imagine him actually betraying us to the Sicambrii, no matter how bitter and angry he may have become toward me."

  "I do not know exactly what he will do," Mars said. "Of the many powers of the Gods, knowing exactly what will happen in the days to come is not one of them. No, that is a power which resides wholly in the hands of the Fates, and they are unwilling to disclose details to us on this matter. I can do nothing but warn you of what might happen if you are not cautious."