Fallen Legion Read online

  “Fortunately,” the torturer said with a sneer, “I am not bound by the Emperor’s laws. This facility is under the jurisdiction of the Sicambrii, and I am acting under their orders. Now piss off.”

  “Well,” said Marcus with a slight smile, “I’m afraid that I have some bad news.”

  “And what is that?” the arrogant little man asked.

  Before the torturer could even finish his question, Marcus hefted his sword over his head and brought the blade down on the man’s head. The blade’s edge smoothly slashed through his skull, cleaving the man’s head in half and sending a greyish splash of brain matter up into the air.

  “Sicambrii orders have no authority here,” Marcus said as the torturer’s body crashed unceremoniously to the floor. Wiping blood and brain matter off the blade of his sword with the tattered rags Ceresius wore, Marcus sheathed his weapon and loosened the leather straps which held Ceresius to the table. “Come on, wake up,” Marcus said, impatiently slapping Ceresius in hopes of raising him. When it swiftly became obvious that such an effort was in vain, Marcus picked Ceresius up and hoisted him over his shoulder. Turning around to face Alexandra, he gestured to the door. “I think it’s time we depart. Have you seen Vincenzo since we came in?”

  “I’m still following you,” Vincenzo said, stepping into the room. “Not that I’ve even been needed here.”

  “Well, let’s just get out of here,” Marcus said.

  “Agreed,” said Alexandra, placing one hand on Marcus’ shoulder to steady him under Ceresius’ weight. The trio made the fastest possible exit they could, carefully weaving their way through the maze of corridors and staircases to find the door they had entered through. It took several minutes to reach their destination, moving through corridors which were all still completely abandoned. Marcus heaved a premature sigh of relief as they reached the prison’s rear door.

  The trio quickly filed outside. Waiting at the foot of the stairs leading up to the prison was a dark-haired man with a half-smile on his face. A distinctive jagged scar across his forehead was more than enough to allow Marcus to identify him as Roberto Mangius, one of Julianus Vestatian's lieutenants.

  “Marcus,” he said. “I should have expected you would try something like this. Subtlety really isn’t your specialty, is it? I would have thought that the whole Agrippinensis debacle would have taught you to change your tactics. Idiot.”

  “Roberto, you pathetic little worm. Do you really think you stand even the slightest chance of stopping me?” Marcus asked.

  “I do. There are a dozen Sicambrii coming this way as we speak. The riot they were trying to break up mysteriously dispersed, and now they’re thirsty for blood. I don’t need to defeat you myself, just hold you off long enough for them to get here.”

  Marcus nodded at Vincenzo. Taking the hint, he leapt over Roberto’s head, dashing off towards the approaching Sicambrii. Dropping Ceresius at Alexandra’s feet, he looked her in the eyes and said, “Keep an eye out for Sicambrii. If Vincenzo can’t stop them, I’ll need you to run – I’ll take care of this… obstacle.”

  Drawing his sword, Marcus charged down the staircase to meet Roberto. Alexandra crouched beside Ceresius’ body and began uttering a prayer to Mars as Marcus and Roberto’s blades clashed at the foot of the staircase. Roberto was quick, weaving back and forth in front of Marcus, making quick jabs with his blade. Marcus, however, was just as agile, dodging Roberto’s thrusts and replying with vicious slashes.

  “Give it up,” Roberto spat as their blades clashed together. “You aren’t going to beat me. Surrender now and I’ll grant you a quick death.”

  Marcus laughed.

  “Fool,” Roberto said. “You should have learned that we are unstoppable. We’ve already taken your wife and your army from you … must we now take this new woman of yours?”

  “Never,” Marcus growled, slashing out at Roberto and knocking him backward a step as their blades clashed together ferociously, “mention my wife again.”

  “Why not? Does it strike a nerve? Do you know how she died? I was there, you know. Oh, she squealed as we –”

  Roberto grunted as Marcus hammered a flurry of blows against his sword in response to Roberto’s ill-conceived provocation. Roaring with rage, Marcus pressed his attack faster and harder, until all Roberto could see was a silvery blur extending from Marcus’ arm. One particularly powerful blow knocked Roberto’s sword from his hand, and before Roberto realized what had happened Marcus’ sword was at his throat.

  “On your knees,” Marcus said. Roberto complied, his gaze darting around nervously. Marcus struck out one last time, his sword tearing through tendons, muscle, and bone, ripping Roberto’s head clear off his body. The severed extremity bounced to the ground with a horrifying thud, and Marcus turned to Alexandra. “Come, Alexandra. Let’s get moving.”

  * * *

  Back in the safety of the hidden meeting room beneath The Countryside Inn, Cersius’ body was laid out on the table, naked save for his ragged pants. Weeks of torture at the hands of his captors had left gaping wounds across his entire body. The torturer had obviously been very experienced and very thorough. Alexandra had pulled a chair up beside the table and was gently washing dried blood out of Ceresius’ wounds. Marcus leaned against the wall, watching Alexandra work. He nodded silently to Domitian, who quietly entered the room.

  “What kind of condition is he in?” Domitian asked Marcus.

  “Not good. Alexandra is confident that she can save him, but I’m not so sure. The man has taken many beatings, and has been subjected to some particularly brutal torture. Even if those physical wounds can be healed, I’ve seen stronger men than him psychologically shattered by less trauma.”

  "We don’t need him to be perfectly sane. Physically intact should be enough. That’s all a figurehead is, after all. A physical presence. A face for our movement.”

  “Indeed,” Marcus said. “And what of your side of the mission? I trust that casualties were not too severe?”

  “They were acceptable. Two of Vito’s contacts were killed, but everyone else made it out alive. Vito is upstairs right now. Where is Vincenzo? I never saw him coming in, but that’s hardly unusual. He’s the kind of fellow you only see when he wants to be seen.”

  “Vincenzo hasn’t made it back yet. When we left the prison, he provided a distraction by slowing down a group of returning Sicambrii.”

  “I see,” Domitian said. “Don’t worry about him, then. He doesn’t like leaving witnesses behind. He’ll be back once he is satisfied that the job is completed.”

  “How long do you think it will take for the Sicambrii to seek retribution?”

  “Quite some time, I would imagine. Even once Ceresius’ absence is discovered, I don’t believe that Vestatian will allow the Sicambrii the privilege of open retribution. I suspect we’ll see an increase in the number of innocent civilians being roughed up in alleys and some late-night raids on random homes, but Vestatian is smart enough to realize that he is already on thin ice when dealing with most of the populace. Open hostilities would only serve to hasten a rebellion, particularly when he knows he cannot prove that Ceresius was not merely killed by some overzealous barbarians in the prison.”

  “So,” Marcus asked hesitantly, “what do we do next? We have our figurehead, we have our war council, and we have our mission…we’re a military without an army.”

  “Then,” Domitian said with a sly grin, “I say that it’s high time we get ourselves an army.”

  “From where?”

  “Look around you, Marcus. Nearly every single man, woman, and child in this province is just looking for an opportunity to pick up a sword.”

  “Speaking of which,” Marcus said, “where exactly are we planning to get swords, bows, arrows, armour, and siege engines?”

  “We will improvise. We will steal. We will make them. We will do whatever needs to be done.”

  “Good,” Marcus said with a smile. “I’m beginning to think that we may ju
st survive this whole mess.”

  “Maybe. Look, don’t take this the wrong way, but I need to get out of here. I’ll leave control of this situation to you. We will have another meeting here one week from tonight to discuss our options.”

  Nodding, Marcus and Domitian clapped each other on the shoulder. As Domitian left the room, Marcus pulled a chair up beside Alexandra and sat down.

  “There will be war over this,” he said.

  “Over this?” Alexandra asked. “No, not over this. War was a foregone conclusion long before we ever freed Ceresius. This is just going to speed things along, that’s all.”

  “Aye,” he replied. “I suppose you’re right. Many people will die.”

  “I know,” Alexandra said, her voice shaking.

  “I suppose you would,” Marcus said with a reassuring smile. “What else has Mars revealed to you?”

  “Very little. Very little indeed.”

  Marcus absent-mindedly reached over to Alexandra, gently caressing the nape of her neck. Sighing contentedly, she set aside the sponge she was using to clean Ceresius’ wounds.

  “There will be war,” Marcus said distantly. “There will be war, and we will win.”

  * * *

  A cool breeze ruffled Marcus’ hair and shook the branches of the grove of oak trees which towered over his head. Despite the absence of a moon in the night sky, illumination did not seem to be a problem. Neat rows of trees stretched as far as the eye could see in every direction, their brilliant green leaves a sharp contrast to the surrounding darkness. Looking around, Marcus marvelled at the sheer scale of the scene which spread out before him.

  “It’s an impressive sight, isn’t it?” A soft female voice called out to him, seeming to whisper in his ears from every direction.

  “Who’s there?” Marcus glanced around cautiously, trying to pinpoint the source of the voice. Fortunately, the voice’s owner proved easy to find; the slender brunette stepped out from behind a tree in front of Marcus. “Lucia,” he said sadly. “So this is a dream, then?”

  “Yes,” she replied, “and also no. You are in a state which neither asleep nor awake, in a place which is both existent and nonexistent.”

  “Please do not vex me by speaking in riddles, Lucia. Is this a dream, or some sort of wretched sorcery?”

  “You must learn to open your mind, my beloved. This place where you stand –the ground beneath your feet, the trees, even the very air you are breathing –is neither dream, sorcery, nor reality. It is Hades, realm of the great Lord Pluto.”

  “But why have I been brought here? I wasn’t even wounded tonight, let alone killed.”

  “To be perfectly honest,” Lucia said with a smile, “I’m not certain of exactly why you’re here, either. All I know is that I am to meet you here and take you to your destination.”

  “And what destination is that?” Marcus sighed in exasperation.

  “I don’t know that either. The only thing I do know is that I was to greet you here, to provide a familiar face for you and to help alleviate any anxiety you might feel at these unexpected surroundings. I hope that I have succeeded in this much, at least.”

  “You have,” Marcus said, “at least to the extent that any face can alleviate anxiety in a place like this. I do hope you will understand that it is still quite disconcerting.”

  “Of course. Now, we have quite some distance to cover, so we had best get moving.” Lucia motioned to the path before them. As they walked, an unnerving silence fell between them. It was Lucia who finally broke the silence. “So… I see that you and this Alexandra woman - the Oracle of Mars - are starting to develop feelings for each other.”

  “What?” Marcus’ voice nearly broke in shock. “We’re not... I mean, the two of us… we’ve been working together, but no—”

  “Relax, beloved,” Lucia said with a sweet laugh. “I never expected you to remain alone forever. You have grieved long enough, and I hold no ill will toward you for wanting to love again.”

  “I … well, thank you,” Marcus stammered, “but Alexandra and I have a strictly professional relationship. Nothing untoward has ever transpired between us.”

  “Perhaps not yet,” Lucia said, still smiling gently. “But it will. I’ve been keeping an eye on the two of you, and there is no mistaking that you have already begun developing feelings for her. Surely even you can recognize that.”

  “Well, yes, I suppose so… but she is a member of the priesthood of Mars. She has a divine calling. Surely she would never abandon that.”

  “There is no reason she would need to abandon her calling, Marcus. She is not a true Priestess, but rather a commoner imbued with the abilities of an Oracle. And whether you realize it or not, she is already developing the same feelings for you which you are developing for her. Ah, here we are.”

  Marcus had been so engrossed in his conversation with Lucia that he not noticed the forest’s segue into a large, open forum. Marble steps led the pair up into the forum, a spacious room flanked on all sides by viewing galleries. The galleries were filled with a veritable sea of faces, some familiar and others foreign. A large stone chair sat at the far end of the forum, occupied by an imperious, dispassionate man dressed in the uniform of a Roman General. Marcus did a double take as Lucia escorted him close enough to the general that Marcus could recognize his features.

  “Lucia, is that who I think it is?” he whispered.

  “Yes, Marcus. It is your fathers, Julius Ulpius… in fact, it was he who recommended that Pluto initiate these proceeds.”

  “What proceedings, exactly?”

  No more of a reply than a helpless shrug was forthcoming from Lucia. She escorted Marcus the rest of the way through the forum., stopping several feet away from the chair where his father sat. Bowing to Marcus’ father, she made a hasty withdrawal from the forum floor and into the nearest gallery. Once she had cleared the forum, Julius stared Marcus up and down, then raised his hand to signal for silence – a redundant gesture, as the galleries were already silent and motionless.

  “Marcus Eranthan Ulpius,” Julius said, his voice resounding authoritatively throughout the forum, “you stand before me charged with the crime of abandoning your duty to the Empire of Rome. How do you plead to these charges?”

  “Most respectfully, not guilty,” Marcus said, shocked. “I have not committed such an offence. May I ask, father, what specific matter this trial represents?”

  “You may not. You will also refer to me as Arbiter; any familial bonds which may exist or have existed between us are not relevant here.”

  “Yes, Arbiter,” Marcus replied, remaining calm in spite of the rebuke.

  “Prosecutor,” Julius called. A tall, lanky, pale man stepped out of the shadows behind Julius’ chair. “Proceed with your case,” Julius said without a trace of emotion.

  “Yes, Arbiter,” the prosecutor said. “Marcus Ulpius, it is the charge of this court that you have abandoned your duty to the Empire of Rome. Did you or did you not recite the following vow eighteen years ago when you were recruited as a soldier in the Roman Legions: ‘I vow to uphold the laws and beliefs of the Roman Empire; I vow to give my life in battle before I flee from the enemies of the Empire’?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “And was it or was it not you who was appointed general of both the Legion 1 Minervia and the Legion 30 Victrix before the Battle of Agrippinensis?”

  “I was, though, in truth – ”

  “Please refrain from speaking out of turn. Answer only my questions; you shall have the opportunity to defend yourself soon enough. Now, is it true that the legions you commanded were defeated at Agrippinensis?”

  “No,” Marcus said, thrusting his chin out defiantly.

  “Please elaborate, General Ulpius. Is it your contention that the Legions 1 Minervia and 30 Victrix were victorious at Agrippinensis?”

  No,” Marcus said. “It is, however, my contention that the legions commanded by me were not defeated. Since Governor Ceresius ex
ercised his right to command those legions you mentioned, it follows naturally that I was not in command. I believe the question which would elicit the response you seek is: ‘Were you a member of the legions commanded by Governor Ceresius which were defeated at Agrippinensis?’”

  “Very well,” the prosecutor seethed. “Were you a member of the legions commanded by Governor Ceresius which were defeated at Agrippinensis?”

  “Yes, I was.”

  “And after that defeat, were your enemies granted clemency for their attack on you, and then subsequently were granted the power to rule the province of Germania Inferior – power granted directly by the Emperor himself? I remind you to limit your answer to a simple ‘yes’ or ‘no’ answer.”

  “Yes,” said Marcus.

  “General Ulpius, one last question: is it or is it not true that you are now a member of an insurgency group whose sole purpose is to overthrow the legitimate new government?”

  “It is true.”

  “Arbiter,” the prosecutor said, turning to face Julius, “I submit to this court that General Ulpius has implicitly admitted to guilt of the offence he is charged with. It is his sworn duty to uphold the edicts of the Emperor; the Emperor commanded that General Ulpius’ former enemies become the legitimate rulers of the province of Germania Inferior; General Ulpius has admitted to actively seeking the destruction of that government, in direct contravention of the Emperor’s orders. He is thus guilty of abandoning his duty to the Empire of Rome.”

  Julius shifted and leaned back in his seat, contemplating the prosecutor’s words. Finally, he set his attention upon Marcus and spoke. “What do you say in response to this, Marcus? Remember that your life – indeed, your very soul – rests upon your defence of statements and actions.”

  I will say this,” Marcus said, “and this only: overthrowing the government of Julianus Vestatian is no violation of my duty to the Empire. Now, Arbiter, you know full well that I am by no means a skilled orator, so I beg the court’s indulgence as I try to elaborate in my most humble way. I contend that the government comprised of Julianus Vestatian was not established by the Emperor’s will, but only his words. It is no secret that Emperor Trajan’s legions are in Dacia on a mission of conquest, and were thus unable to provide support to the provincial legions during the Sicambrii revolt. By negotiating a peace with Vestatian and instating him as Governor of Germania Inferior, the Emperor is able to preserve the safety of Roman citizens until his legions return from Dacia and crush the Sicambrii hordes. By taking action to restore the province’ original and rightful government, I am embarking upon the only course of action which will in fact, fulfill my duty. An argument could very easily be made that I abandoned my duty over the course of the year between my defeat at Agrippinensis and my decision to take up arms against the Sicambrii. However, I have rectified the errors of those days by taking up arms and solemnly re-committing myself to those ideals I vowed to uphold so many years ago. Therefore, honoured Arbiter, I submit to the court that my actions against Julianus Vestatian's government most emphatically does not constitute a breach of my duty to the Emperor.