What Came of It

Days later

Decanus Aleron awoke to the early morning sun having almost forgotten the whole ordeal by the treatments to his arm and after only a brief interrogation by his Centurion. With the event seemingly settled by the routine of standard procedure in the waiting camp. The whole duel seemed nothing but a bad memory, except there was one flaw that neither Aleron or Montano could place. Montano had only recently become able to speak and think properly after losing so much blood in the fight and Aleron's injuries required little more than a wrap and a day or two of healing. Although the thing that couldn't be placed was largely in Aleron's mind, and that was because he was recovered enough to even think about it. That big question in the victor's mind was: Why haven't I been punished? Aside from the brief interrogation from Centurion Theracos, that was it. Perhaps there was something else.

In any event, Aleron awoke one morning and made his way to the mess tent. Days had already passed without any mention of the incident despite one bed in the healing tent being occupied since the matter. Aleron thought about the words of his Centurion frequently and how little care was in any of them. Theracos had asked for Aleron's description of what happened and nothing more, only to be relieved by the next conscious interviewee. That next one happened to be the elderly woman who may not have even been able to see the duel due to the slight clouding in her eyes. Next after her was the young woman named Clara after she regained consciousness. Aleron knew that the word of elderly or illogically aggressive women was of little regard for his Centurion. Although, the question of what was to come of him really occupied his mind late at night on the day of the incident when Montano had gained enough consciousness to give his account. Still, Aleron saw his centurion walk from the healing tent, look him over, and proceed onward without anything to be said. This only made Aleron ready, ready for his punishment, ready for retribution, and ready for a something that didn't come that night. It didn't come the next night, or the next night, or the next night either. Finally, Aleron's mind was pulled to so many different procedural places throughout the uneventful days he believed that life had simply "Moved on". A belief that was unheard of in the Legion, especially for an incident such as the duel.

Although, on his way to the mess tent, that 4th morning after the unpunished event, Aleron was pulled aside by Decanus Gula. The two talked about everything that was according to camp routine, questions were all about the readiness of this and that contubernium, reports on trails and activity south of the camp or even about the Ajoans who'd supposedly been seen only a few miles south of Gold Canyon. Finally, the memory of what had been plaguing his subconscious hit Aleron in an instant and he asked Decanus Gula,

"… And what is the status of Decanus Montano?"

The veteran Decanus Gula merely lifted his eyes from the patrol maps curious at his subordinate's inquiry as he asked, "You hadn't visited your brother?..."

Aleron, a Legionary his whole memorable life, said, "No, I was not sure I could."

Gula smirked, "Makes sense I suppose. Centurion Theracos himself has been waiting for instruction on how to proceed… Well, go see Montano, if he's still conscious."

The two closed out their meeting moments later, but Aleron wondered what his senior was saying. He didn't understand how Theracos himself was waiting on instruction for how to proceed. Hearing those words over and over again, Aleron knew that the issue wasn't over and was only waiting for his part in how to proceed. He wondered how it could be settled, but recalled the perplexities of Gula in how he hadn't visited Montano yet. Immediately after his breakfast, Aleron acted upon the issue that was only Thought to have passed.

Entering the healing tent of the 6th's camp, Decanus Aleron thought how he'd never had to be in there as he studied the lone man on a cot in the center. He approached the cot and blanket covered man, wishing he could see the damage he'd done to him without disturbance. He watched the calm face of Montano breath in and out deeply, and peacefully, knowing firsthand how vicious that face could become at perceived insult alone. Suddenly, Aleron turned around to the sound of the entryway opening. The noise and entry of someone new startled Aleron until he saw the person who entered was only the 6th century's healing mother, a hunchbacked elderly tribal slave, who upon seeing Aleron beside Montano said,

"Ah no. Don't go ruinin my hard work you fuckin Dec!"

Aleron couldn't help but smile at that. The 6th century's healer had always held a strange place in the hearts of the Legionaries under Theracos. The belligerent old woman "Granny" or "Grama" was most certainly a slave, but held a strange sense of defiance yet pure loyalty to her owners that was almost adored by the legionaries of the 6th, especially the officers. There was something about her that was respectable in their eyes, and the whole century allowed her character to show as an obvious exception to the general rule of slave treatment. The Grama of the 6th could get away with the kind of speech and conduct regularly that any other slave would be killed for on the first occasion. New slaves to the unit knew without any question that she was the only slave allowed to behave as such, and new legionaries knew that harsh treatment of her would only bring pain from the commanders of the 6th.

The old woman shuffled over to Aleron and physically backed him away from Montano, grumbling all the while. Aleron said, "Don't worry, madame, I was only told to check in on him."

"You stay here, away from Mr. Montano. Last I need is getting nailed to a pole for something one of his own fellas did after all my work…" Hearing the Decanus almost laugh in that bizarre way legionaries who rarely if ever laughed, she paused before adding,

"You can nail me up against a pole any day, but I prefer not dyin cuz of it. Hell you in here for anyway?"

The old woman made the devout man chuckle for a moment, but he still came there for a reason, and that reason was to settle the matter with the man he put on that cot, somehow.

Aleron said to the woman, "Something needs to be settled here, somehow. Can you wake him?"

The woman frowned, giving a long sigh before saying, "Why? Is this trash over or not? It's shit enough just treating you fucks after battles with savages, let alone making me work overtime with fights over tribal-trash tight-twats."

Aleron thought about the slave's presumption for the cause of the fight but knew her opinion on the matter was irrelevant to him as he said, "It wasn't about any tribal girl, Grama. Still, I need you to wake him."

The woman let loose a heavy sigh and gave a scowl before shuffling over to the bedside, pulling the covers and exposing the torso of Montano covered by still bleeding bandages. Aleron studied the damage and marveled how he could do so much even days later, then he thought back to his own injuries and the moments of the duel. As the elderly healer shifted over to the head of the young man, Aleron asked himself again, "What is to come of this" hearing heavier breaths from the victim as the woman smacked him awake.

With the amount of care you'd expect from an elderly woman forced to heal the people who enslaved her, she awoke the young and fiery decanus. With eyes fixed on the scowling old woman above him, Montano gave a pained grin and greeting to the 6th's "Loving grandmother" only for that grin to turn into the embodiment of viciousness when the "Grama" gave him another smack accompanied by the words, "Dec who put you here wants a talk."

Montano heard the words, and attempted to sit up and face the man who bested him, only to be halted by the pain of any movement around his open torso. Aleron saw this attempt at facing down an enemy, admired it even. However, both men loved Caesar, and that made them brothers, not enemies. Aleron realized this, and approached the ceiling locked gaze of Montano, entering his vision, and beginning the matter the only way a servant of Caesar knew how engage a brother of the Legion. Aleron gave his "Ave, Decanus Montano, True to Caesar." And was met with the appropriate response by Montano.

Silence ensued. Aleron was there to "Settle the matter, somehow" and Montano didn't even know what to think as the man who put him in a bed reserved for cripples and the weak hovered in the side of his vision. Aleron couldn't think of what to say, but he certainly saw the look of brutality in the bested man's eyes. It was obvious that Montano would use the proximity of Aleron to stab him if he wasn't in so much pain and had his machete or a knife available. All Montano could do was stare at the ceiling, and try to forget the "Temporary victor" off to his side. Aleron saw the intention and thoughts of the man as well, but nothing could be settled unless spoken into existence, rather than kept in the realm of thought.

Aleron saw the answer in Montano's eyes, but still asked the weakened Montano, "Is this matter settled?"

There was a long silence as Montano continued to avoid looking at the man he saw more as a slab of meat to be eaten rather than his brother of the Legion. Although, Aleron was briefly shocked when Montano finally responded "Am I to be punished for this?" rather than the simple "No" Aleron was expecting.

Still, the question had weight, and the answer wasn't known to Aleron. The victor returned, "I do not know. I don't even know what is to come of my part in the affair."

Aleron's answer made Montano's eyes shift briefly to Aleron. How did the "Victor" of the duel not even know what was to come of himself? Regardless of Montano's curiosity, Montano learned the answer to the initial question himself and his answer told Aleron the true answer to that question regardless of what each participant in the duel felt.

Montano said, "Then your answer is no. This failure against Caesar isn't settled until both of us are punished."

There it was. The reason Aleron hadn't been punished by his Centurion was because he didn't know whether it was settled or not until speaking with the man he put there. However, the matter wasn't settled until both were punished for the incident. A form of paradox in the regular mind, but the issue in theirs was resolved itself by both men essentially admitting that their feud couldn't end until Caesar's justice was done: Something that couldn't happen until both stated to the other; "We aren't allowed to settle things."

Aleron knew what he had to do, and left the hospital tent only to be confronted by Gula waiting outside. No words on Aleron's part, he knew Gula had set this up, and was ready to be brought to the feet of his Centurion when the word "Follow" was given by Gula. Gula marched with Aleron across the camp, both men's eyes were fixed straight ahead, and nothing was worth uttering as they approached the large crimson tent of Centurion Theracos. Marching past the armored veteran gunner out front and ducking through the tent flap below the banner, Aleron caught a quick glimpse of Clara the tribal woman glaring his way before finding himself inside the command tent of the 6th.

Stepping forth, Aleron's escort halted, and Aleron himself approached the table where his commander sat. Centurion Theracos was a large man with skin scorched by the fires of 40 battles all beneath the Arizona sun. The spiked shoulder plates of the helmetless centurion clanked slightly as the man continued filling out the papers before him, not even acknowledging Aleron's existence. Aleron stopped before the desk, put his fist to his heart and greeted his master "Ave Centurion, True to Caesar."

Theracos said nothing, merely continuing his writing until he reached the bottom of the page. There, Centurion Theracos raised one hand to point past Aleron, and the order was understood by Decanus Gula when his response "Yes, Centurion" entered Aleron's ears. Aleron heard the heavy footsteps of Gula's departure but kept his eyes forward as Theracos finished his work.

Aleron knew not to look at the writings of his superior, but saw the pen holding hand of his Centurion make a flourish on what looked like the bottom of the page. Immediately afterward, Aleron heard the pen be set down, and felt the eyes of Theracos, giving Aleron the que to meet them as well. Aleron looked briefly at the scarred and burned face of his commander, as the centurion began folding the paper. In one deliberate motion, Theracos ordered Aleron, "Go on, pull up a chair, Decanus Aleron."

Aleron immediately snapped to the order and pulled up one of the fold out chairs beside the command table, placing it directly across from the Centurion. Once seated, he was allowed to look at his Centurion again, who had a look on his face that Aleron hadn't ever seen. It wasn't "confusion" since Centurions of the Legion are never confused about anything. It also wasn't "pride" or "admiration" since Aleron wasn't worthy of either words due to his involvement in the duel. The only way Aleron could describe the look was like the Centurion was remembering something. Either way, Aleron didn't have long to ponder the conduct of his commander since Theracos began with;

"Veteran Decanus Gula told me you went to see if the matter with Montano was settled… Is it so?"

Aleron answered strictly, militarily, and honestly as always, "It does not appear so, Centurion Theracos. Decanus Montano says it is not over until the both of us are punished for our failure to Caesar, and I agree with his position…"

The look remained and Theracos responded by questioning Aleron, "And why are You to be punished, Aleron? The incident you described and all the accounts I've heard seem to say you were only protecting yourself while attempting to carry out my orders?"

Aleron, with eyes fixed straight ahead, answered, "Because, I engaged in a fight that could have been prevented by the fact I was equipped for battle before he was, I allowed the utilization of women as witnesses to an event of mutual combat, and most of all, I defied your order to bring in Montano by indulging in the tradition of savages."

Theracos nodded the entire time Aleron was speaking, and when he was done, the centurion paused for a long while before finally asking another question, "Do you know why Caesar despises dueling?"

Aleron answered the way he'd always known, the way he'd been taught, "Because we are all one under the Bull. All one under Mars and the word of Caesar. All one against a world of dissolutes and savages."

Theracos nodded again, "Correct, Decanus. The only fighting allowed between officers of the Legion is for placement in Caesar's Praetorian Guard… Neither you or Montano are members of the guard, so the fighting is unacceptable…"

Anyone reading this could be wondering how this situation and lecture was fair to Aleron. In Aleron's shoes, some may be wondering if he was thinking how Montano should be punished worse for apparently starting the whole thing. None of that crossed Aleron's mind, Aleron knew Legion justice, and who started an ordeal was never a concern in the least of ways. Aleron knew that he failed Caesar in one way or another, and though soldiers of the Legion have failed their lord in worse ways, any failure was unacceptable, and always punished. Though the punishments differed depending on the crime, the idea of mercy was an alien concept in the Legion. Everything Theracos was telling Aleron was only confirming the inevitable. The only question remaining was still "What is to come of this?"

Theracos was the word of Caesar in that part of the Arizona wastes, and Aleron was ready and willing to accept whatever his Centurion had planned to officially settle the matter when Theracos said, "50 lashes at the stake for you and Montano. Our elite commander should be here in a few days and when he arrives, we'll be marching on the Ajoans. Montano should be healed enough in a few days for the lashing, and I can't have two of my officers too crippled to lead in battle."

Aleron left the tent of his Centurion satisfied. Ready to inform his victim of the means to settle the conflict. Some may wonder if the 50 lashes were too harsh on Montano's side since he'd recently had his chest opened. The answer to that is no. Not in Montano's eyes, or the eyes of anyone in the Legion. Montano understood that his wounds were his own fault for losing a battle, a battle even against his own brother. Montano was more than willing to take the punishment for failure in battle, as well as failure to Caesar. So, if 50 lashes was deemed necessary to make him, and Aleron for that matter, back in the good graces of Caesar and their brothers in the 6th, both were ready for a beating that would set the world back in order.