IV
Off to War
The hour was late within the night and the city of Alesia was full of sleep. The governor's family was sound asleep in the palace with all the slaves retiring in for the night except for some guards at the gate. Lucius and Octavia were snuggled together in a naked embrace, just like the time on the eve of their wedding night. Lucius was dreaming of former and future glories that he would attain in his lifetime; and even the coveted seat of leader of the Julii. He dreamt of being crowned with the most prestigious of laurel wreaths, the Grass Crown, for his extraordinary service for the Republic. But his dreaming of being crowned with the ultimate glory was interrupted when someone kicked in his bedchamber doors.
He groggily awoke to the sight of two lit torches in his bedchambers getting closer to him until they illuminated the silhouettes that surrounded him. From the light of the flame, he noticed his Tribune Antonius, and by his side were the two guards that were posted for night duty, and a beleaguered messenger who wore the light purple tunic of the Senate.
"What is the meaning of this?! Why are you here in my bedchambers?" he crankily shouted at Antonius.
"Apologies General, this messenger came bearing some news from the Senate. He would not tell me and insisted that only you needed to see it," Antonius explained.
"Jupiter damn him," Lucius cursed to himself as he rubbed the sleep away from his eyes, "You, messenger, what news is so important that it murders sleep?! The hour is late!"
"A thousand apologies General! But I bear news of the utmost importance; you have been assigned a mission!"
Lucius saw the scroll that messenger presented and began studying the unopened scroll in a daze. Normally, Lucius would be ecstatic to receive a mission; but after two rounds of copulating with his wife, he was enjoying one of the best sleeps that he ever had. He was simply too tired to read the mission or care for it.
"Okay, place the scroll by the side, I shall read it in the morning. My brother's mission can wait until then," Lucius said as he cozied up to go back to sleep.
"General!" the messenger shouted, causing Lucius to bolt up and also causing Octavia to stir awake.
"Wh-What's happening?" Octavia yawned.
"General! You need to read this!" the messenger emphasized, "This was not delivered to the Julii Leader. This came straight from the Senate, directly to you."
The Julii heir studied the serious and focused face of the messenger and deemed that this mission must have been important for the messenger to have the gall to yell at a general. He grabbed the scroll and began to unravel it; and with the light from the torch, he started carefully reading the message word-by-word.
The sudden stampede of activity outside Proculus' bedchambers woke him from a heavy slumber. He sat up in his bed with his wife, Appia, still intimately clinging to his body in her sleep. He wiped the sleep from his eyes and gained his bearings of his surroundings. It was still late at night, yet the torches were lit in the hallway outside his room. He could hear the excited, yet muffled conversations of people talking throughout the palace as they were running through the hall.
Proculus escaped from Appia's grasp, waking her up in the result, and ran to put on his fresh crimson tunic. He walked outside his room and was nearly run over by a slave carrying maps in the hallway. The slave quickly apologized to Proculus and went on his way. All the torches in the interior of the palace were lit and all the slaves were rushing everywhere inside the palace. Something was wrong.
"Brother!" Vitus shouted from the opposite end of the hallway from the entrance of his bedchambers, "Brother! What happened? Have the slaves gone mad?"
"I do not know! My ears suggest a tempest when I awoke, and I find this outside my bedchambers!" Proculus called back.
"What shall we do?"
"Put your tunic on and let us find Father and Mother!"
Proculus went back inside his bedchambers to put on his sandals and was greeted by his naked wife who was just stirring out of bed.
"Proculus, what has happened?" she yawned, wiping the sleep from her eye.
"I do not know, get dressed now. Just put on anything to cover yourself," Proculus commanded, finally putting on the last sandal. Proculus grabbed his sword belt and sword just in case, and quickly left his room and was greeted by Vitus who also had his sword with him.
The brothers followed the stream of slaves throughout the palace until they arrived at their father's "War Chambers"; the room where Lucius would discuss with his commanders military tactics and assignments. The Brothers rushed inside the room and were greeted by a remarkable sight.
The usually empty "War Chambers", that was often filled with statues and bust of Roman heroes and Gods from the pantheon; was now filled with the dozens of ancillaries that worked under Lucius and with fully armored legionaries stationed by Lucius' side. Vitus noticed that most of the legionaries present were in fact the 10 senior centurion commanders of the ten cohorts of the legion. The ten cohort commanders were crowded around a long wooden table staring down at a large map near the edge of the table. The Tribune, Antonius, was there as well pointing out locations on the map to General Lucius who was fully dressed in armor and carried his helmet at his side.
Octavia cautioned the brothers to come inside quietly and to stand by the side of the room where they would not get in the way.
"Mother, why has an assembly been called?" Vitus whispered.
"Your father has received a mission from the Senate earlier in the night. It is imperative that he moves out at once."
"Father is mobilizing the legion? He is going to fight?" Proculus asked with a hint of excitement.
"Indeed he is, now whisper softly, for we cannot disturb your father's assembly."
"Antonius, give report on the whereabouts of all veterinary legionaries," Lucius asked of his second-in-command, not turning his eyes to look away from the map.
"All legionaries that have served through 18 years or more of campaigns have returned from their military leaves and have returned to the legion, General."
Lucius turned to ask his ancillary, the Mercenary Captain, Titus Publiarnus; "Publiarnus, since we are crossing into Gallic territory, are there any men that may be bought into the legion?"
"Yes General, we are more than likely to recruit barbarian mercenary spearmen from the Velhetii tribe. They are fierce yet impetuous warriors, like all barbarians are, but if we can hire around 300 of the spearmen; then they will present greater numbers for us."
Lucius studied the map and traced his fingers along the road that led to his objective. It was a long, winding road that took them directly into the forest, once they crossed the border. Lucius consulted his next ancillary, his geographer, Aulus Silius; "Silius, I have come to believe that based on this map, to move a legion of almost 5,500 men or more across 300 miles will take about one month, maybe two. Is that correct?"
"It depends General," Silius replied, making his way to the map and pointing out key locations, "As you are aware, the quickest way to the city is following the road. Once we leave Alesia, the earth forms into rolling hills and thick woods that can blot out the sun. But the real problem, as you know General, is the winter. Within a month, the days will be shorter and the land and sky will turn cold and snow will fall on the earth and ice will form, slowing down all movement. And with each passing week, the days will grow colder making it harder to maneuver through the woods and the hills. Also, Alesia has built paved highways for travel, but once we leave the region, we will cross on useless dirt roads which will slow down the entire legion. Once winter arrives, it may take two full months, maybe even three."
Lucius quickly turned to his next ancillary, the Quartermaster of the Legion, Flavius Sulpicius; "How well are provisions for the legion?"
"They are . . . above adequacy, General. We have enough food to feed the legion, but not enough as to sustain for three months. If we want our legion to continue to be well-fed, we must acquire a constant source of food from the barbarian tribes that are still loyal to Rome; as you are knowledgeable of. But all respect must be given General; I need to broach the subject on what Silius has previously described with the condition of winter. With winter, as you know, crops are rendered useless and game becomes scarce for us to hunt. We must fully requisition all assets from any barbarian village that we come across to manage the survival of the legion. Also there is the issue of warmth for the legion. We do not have enough blankets for the entire legion, or tents. If we stayed here in Alesia for another month, we could fully procure such luxuries."
"Fine then. Have the blankets and tents distributed to the most senior cohorts first," Lucius commanded.
"Yes General . . . oh, and apologies General, but what about the auxiliary?"
"They will just have to manage," Lucius coldly replied, not bothering to look up from the map. He ran a hand through his thinning hair and placed his helmet on the table as he ran through his final thoughts.
"Antonius, please give me the total number of men present in the legion?" Lucius asked of his Tribune.
"Yes General. With the men of the Twenty-Eighth present; there are 5,120 legionaries. Then with addition of the auxiliary; we have 150 Syrian archers along with 100 Cretan archers, 300 barbarian swordsmen and spearmen that mainly come from the Getae tribe from Thrace. And we are also promised to meet up with barbarian light cavalry a week after we leave which will number 100 horsemen. So in total General, the Twenty-Eighth Legion shall stand at 5,770 men."
"Hmm, it would be better if we had more archers and cavalry, but this shall suffice," Lucius said to himself.
The brothers were in awe at the sight of their father working with his men; he was deep in thought of what needed to be done, yet displayed a certain level-head of control that he had with his officers. He was knowledgeable of all situation and variables that would play into his mission. Whatever his mission was, it was a complicated campaign that could cause a normal man to snap from the stress. But their father wasn't a normal man; he had seen it all and had been in the thickest of the fighting. If he was stressed, he didn't show it.
However, the assembly came to a halt when Appia, who took her time to get dressed in something spectacular, nosily stumbled in the room. Octavia quickly pulled her to the side and shushed her; however, Lucius raised his head towards the sudden outburst and finally noticed that his sons Proculus and Vitus were in the room the whole time.
"Proculus, Vitus, I was not aware of your presence," Lucius said with a low tone of guilt.
"Uh a-a-apologies Father, we did not want to disturb you," Proculus stammered uncomfortably.
"Nonsense, both of you draw close to me, now."
The brothers looked at each other to see if they really should go; but upon low encouragement from their mother they moved forward. They walked to their father's side and concentrated on the city that Lucius pointed to on the map of which he was studying so thoroughly about.
"Samar-Samarobrava-no, Samarobriva?" Proculus tried to pronounce, squinting his eyes to see if he was reading it right.
"Are you to conquer it, Father?" Vitus asked with glowing eyes.
"No, I am to save it."
"Save it? From who? From what?" Vitus asked.
Lucius sighed in anticipation to explain to his sons the mission the Senate has given him. He patted Vitus on the shoulder and smiled at him. Lucius looked up at all his subordinates staring at him with troubled eyes, making Lucius question their resolve.
"Every man in this room, open your ears!" Lucius bellowed to his subordinates, "If any knowledge of what has been said has escaped you, you find yourself blessed that I am to repeat myself to my sons."
Lucius turned to his sons and began to explain, "As you know, I was assigned by the Julii leader, my brother Decius, your uncle; to conquer the entire lands of Gallia. Nine long years I have dedicated to conquering this tribal land and with my greatest victory being the taking of the capital of the Gauls, the city which we now reside in. But before delivering the final blow unto the weak, demoralized Gauls; the Senate sheathed my sword and stopped me from taking the last settlement. Samarobriva is the last settlement. And thus, marked the end of my nine year campaign, that was five years ago. Because of the old fools in the Senate, those five years allowed the Gauls to raise its final army in that accursed settlement. So the Senate sends out its five legions, 25,500 men, all under the command of Praetor Marcus Maxentius; to conquer the city."
Proculus could hear Appia sharply gasp in shock at the mention of Marcus Maxentius' name; because Marcus is her beloved first cousin. Appia motioned forward to ask the patriarch of her cousin's condition, only to be silently stopped by Octavia; reminding her of a woman's place in an assembly.
"The Senate sent out its army to capture a city? That is the most foolish thing I ever heard," Proculus chuckled, shaking his head at the decision.
"Indeed it is. It was a political move to ensure to the commoners of Rome that the Senate has just as much power as the Three Roman Families," Antonius explained.
"So Father, what became of Marcus and his legions?" Vitus asked.
"They made their trek to Samarobriva and placed the settlement under siege for an entire year," Lucius continued, "Then they struck forth and nearly destroyed the Gauls' 12,000 man army and took the city. The Gallic king Segovax apparently escaped in the fighting."
"Besides the king escaping, what is the problem Father? All of Gallia has been taken away." Proculus callously asked, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.
"Because it was a trap," Lucius explained, "In those five years in which my campaign ended; the Gauls somehow brokered an alliance between the barbaric Germans and the barbaric Britons."
"Britons?" Vitus questioned his Father in surprise, "Father, was it true that the Britons were cast off from the mainland a century ago by the Gauls? So what reasons would there be for the Britons to come back to the mainland and assist the Gauls?"
"I pondered that heavily myself," Lucius said, softly rubbing his rugged chin in contemplation, "They are barbarians so they are naturally inclined to despise us Romans, they could rally behind that. I initially would have ruled out the Britonic presence altogether; yet from Maxentius' reports, the Britons are indeed on the mainland for the first time in a hundred years.
"But I digress, as soon as Maxentius took the city; he himself was besieged by the two barbaric armies. Still exhausted from the battle, Maxentius tried to breakout but was driven back into the city. Eventually the armies tried to take the city, yet Maxentius threw them back and is holding out as we speak. In the process, he has lost two entire legions to the barbarians. To make matters worse, the Praetor's food supply is running low. Based on his report, he has enough food for six months, but fears he can hold out for three months."
"So Father, your mission from the Senate is to rescue him and his legions from complete annihilation?" Vitus asked.
"Correct. The Twenty-Eighth will mobilize to save the Praetor and his legions at all cost."
"This whole thing is preposterous," Proculus sneered with laughter, "Father, the Senate are only sending you and your men to save the Praetor to avoid looking like incompetent fools to the plebeians of Rome."
"Indeed they are," Lucius smirked, rather impressed that his usual slacker of a son understood the political reason behind the mission, "But it is our job as men of the Republic to do the Senate's will."
"Apologies again but I have a peculiar notion that gives me pause Father," Proculus spoke up once again, "Once Marcus was endangered, why did he waste precious time to inform the Senate instead of sending a messenger here to request for aid?"
"Because in the same manner as the Three Roman Families; you must always first contact your family before anyone else."
"So Father, how many men do the barbarians have?" Vitus asked.
"Maxentius stated that both armies have around 11,000 men; 8,000 infantry, 1,000 missile troops, and 2,000 cavalrymen. Making both armies total with 22,000 men," Lucius sighed.
"What?! 22,000 men? Father, how can the Senate expect us to win against 22,000 men when we only have almost 6,000 men?!" Proculus raised his voice as he stopped leaning from the wall and approached his calm father.
"We will overcome, Proculus!" Lucius stated with conviction.
"Father, those odds . . . if we faced both armies at the same time, the odds would be almost 4:1! It will be an utter defeat!" Proculus continued to argue.
"Enough Proculus! There is more to battle than numbers! The men of the Twenty-Eighth are the finest soldiers in the Republic and they will prevail against all odds!"
"Father, I believe you can do it, you have faced enemies that have outnumbered you, but you soundly overcame them," Vitus reassured his father. To hear Vitus' confidence brought a smile to old general's face. His senior men needed to hear Vitus' inspiring words since he realized early on that the numbers of the enemy has discouraged most of his senior officers.
"Cohort Commanders!" Lucius bellowed. All the commanders of the cohorts snapped to attention. "Return to your men and see that they are all assembled to mobilize, we leave in one hour before first light. Everyone else, get back to work."
The cohort commanders and all ancillaries present; bowed down to their wise general and quickly exited the room to attend to their duties. The brothers also took their cue and silently began to walk out of the room as well to get out of the way.
"Where are you heading off to?" Lucius said in the direction of his sons.
The brothers turned around and could see a confused grin rising on their father's face. "We were about to leave," Vitus sheepishly spoke up.
"No, do not leave yet. I will need you. Grab your armor and your sword and prepare your horse," Lucius replied with a proud smile.
The brothers looked at each other in disbelief; they could hardly fathom what their father was asking of them. Their father wanted them at his side for the battle. They would finally go out to war!
"You truly mean it, Father?" Vitus asked, his eager, jubilant smile spreading across his face.
Lucius crossed his arms and nodded with a smile. It was true; they were finally going off to war! Vitus was smiling so hard that his cheeks felt like they were about to burst. But he failed to notice that his older brother's smile was even bigger than his. This is it, Proculus thought to himself. This was his time to finally gain favor with his father, his time to outshine his talented younger brother in combat. Proculus has been waiting five years for a battle where he could please his father and finally gain the proper respect that he so desperately craved. Appia's words rang true; this is proper opportunity for me!
"Hurry Vitus, before the legion leaves without us!" Proculus eagerly urged his younger brother as he turned to run out of the door.
"Apologies Proculus, I do not understand, where do you run off to?" Lucius called out to Proculus, stopping the elder son in his tracks.
"I am fetching my armor and sword like you said, Father," Proculus remarked with a smile on his face.
Lucius let out a heavy sigh as he ran his hand through his thin hair, frustrated that he'll have to explain the misinterpretation. He stared off into Proculus' eager eyes from across the room, and with another sigh, he told him, "You misunderstand intentions. I did not order you to get your armor; that was meant for Vitus only."
Proculus' enthusiastic smile evaporated into a confused frown in the blink of an eye. He turned his head to Vitus to see if it was an inside joke; yet Vitus was not laughing, he was just as confused as Proculus was. Proculus walked forward to his father like a curious, confused dog to his master.
"Father," Proculus muttered in a low, hurt tone, "I am not to accompany you?"
"That is correct. I have no need of you."
The whole world felt like it fell from underneath Proculus' feet at the sound of his father's comment. "I have no need of you." Those words resonated like a bell inside his head. "No need." He was not needed. He was not wanted. He was not special enough to be in battle with his father. He was worthless. "I have no need of you." Those six words wounded him worse than any enemy blade could.
"What? But why, Father?"
"I do not need you on the field, Proculus. Your brother Vitus can efficiently take your place," Lucius said, not bothering to look at Proculus, instead he was too focused on the map of Samarobriva.
Vitus. Proculus slowly turned his head back and peered at Vitus; only to find that Vitus was just as equally shocked as his elder brother. It had to be Vitus, why is it always Vitus chosen over me?
"Why Vitus? I am the elder brother. It should be my right," Proculus spoke up, a wave of sadness enveloping his voice.
"I will discuss it later when we come back," Lucius irrelevantly dismissed his elder son with his eyes still glued to the map.
"Father, I want to know."
"And I told you, I will tell you once we return."
"Father, I demand you tell me!" Proculus snapped, his fist clenching in anger.
"What does it matter to you, that I picked your brother over you?!" Lucius shouted back, finally taking his eyes off of the map.
"That I am the elder and you give first privilege of battle to the younger brother instead of me! Father, I have been waiting since I donned the toga virilis to go into battle at your side. Now proper opportunity presents itself and you will deny me of it in favor of Vitus! Why Father? What does he possess that I do not?!"
"Maturity, leadership, courage, ambition, honesty, strength, tactics, knowledge, selflessness, and Roman virtue! Need I go on?!" Lucius listed off as he walked over to the frustrated Proculus, "And you have none of those. I have watched you carefully after you turned sixteen and you lacked heavily in these fields. And how Vitus easily bested you in the training grounds for the horses a week ago, heavily influenced my decision."
"Our exhibition? You are mainly basing your choice off of our fight?" Proculus incredulously asked, "Father, I have changed since then. I have resumed training with the sword and a few days ago I began riding Remus and practiced with Vitus!"
"I do not care, my decision is final."
"This is not fair, Father!" Proculus angrily pouted as he gnashed his teeth together, "I am the eldest son, this is not fair!"
"Shut your mouth!" Lucius screamed as he smacked Proculus across his mouth. The sudden blow caught Proculus off guard and he went crashing to the floor. Appia and Vitus ran to his side and picked the daze Proculus back up to his feet.
"Be a man!" Lucius demanded of his son, grabbing his tunic and bringing him closer to his face, "Stop whining like a beaten dog! 'Oh it is not fair, Father! I am the eldest!' Shut up and become a man! As a man, you will become all too familiar with not getting your way! Now stop your damn crying and do as I command. You are not coming with me, you will stay here at the palace."
Lucius shoved his son backwards, not daring to break his condescending glare with his son. Proculus began rubbing his jaw to relieve the pain, but the worst kind of pain he was experiencing was on the emotional level. His father wanted nothing to do him on this campaign and he truly believed that he was worthless . . . a mistake. Why? Why does my father hate me so? What have I ever done to deserve your ire beyond repair? All I ever wanted to do was make you proud? But he knew he couldn't, that was Vitus' role, not his.
Proculus turned to his brother and placed a soft hand on Vitus' shoulders and leaned in close to his face. Vitus could see the utter disappointment and sorrow in his brothers eyes; there was no spark, no hope in them; and it terrified Vitus.
"Alright then Vitus," Proculus finally spoke, his voice lowly growled like gravel, "I wish you the best of luck in your first campaign. I wish I could join you but . . . well, you will be smart and you will be strong. Just be safe my dear brother."
"I will brother," Vitus replied, trying his best to think of reassuring words to console his brother, "I wish you were coming too. Do not worry, I will be safe and return in good fortune. Please take care of Mother and Appia, the palace and the city in our absence."
With no other reason to remain, Proculus gently bit his lip and turned to leave, only to be stopped by Appia. She placed her soft, warm hands around his cheeks and gazed into his soul with comforting eyes. But there was nothing in his soul to comfort, with a few choice words; his father had destroyed all the self-esteem left in his soul. Proculus gently pushed Appia aside and left for his bedchambers; fighting back tears. Such proper opportunity.
Half an hour later, the entire Twenty-Eighth Legion was mobilized outside the palace. Every cohort was in place, standing at attention in the mid-night hours of darkness. Torches were lit around the entire area to give off a low degree of light. The general was standing impatiently outside of the palace; joined by his wife and daughter-in-law, waiting for Vitus to join them. Lucius had already said his amorous goodbye to his wife and a congenial farewell to his daughter-in-law. Before Lucius was going to order a slave to fetch Vitus, Vitus himself walked out of the palace wearing his armor with a flowing red cape that drooped down to his knees for the first time.
"Vitus, you look magnificent," his mother smiled at him, admiring her young man in armor.
"Thank you mother; I shall wear this with pride when I am in battle," he said, rather embarrassed by her comment.
"I know you will," her voice wavered as she tried to fight back the prickling of tears of pride in the corner of her eyes. This was a proud moment for a Roman mother; especially a mother of patrician status, to see their son off to war and gain untold glories and honor for the family. Glory and honor that would not only extend to the son, but to the mother as well that gave birth to him. Yet, the possibility of him never returning was always present. She was well aware that he may never come back, but she believed somehow that he would be protected from the enemy and come back home to her warm embrace, along with her husband.
"Vitus, I want you to be careful," Octavia begged, placing both hands on his small shoulders. "Do not do anything reckless that will see yourself parted from this life. Please come back to me. And I know that you are a man now, so please watch over your father and bring him back to me as well."
"I will Mother, I will," he reassured her. She gave him her last motherly kiss on the cheek and hugged him tight, trying to channel all of her love into her strength. Octavia reluctantly released Vitus from her grasp and watched as he backed up to say his goodbyes to Appia.
"Allow me to say something," Appia said. She leaned in to him and kissed him on his cheeks. The warm, soft texture of her lips touching his cheeks sent a warming flood of emotions through his body. She hugged his body and confided into him, "You have always been the brother that I have always wanted, and the Gods have seen fit to give me a marvelous brother like you. Vitus, you are destined for great things; and this will be your first stepping stone on the path to greatness. I know that no harm will come to you; all I ask of you is to fight with strength and honor."
"Gratitude. Your words bring me peace and strength, Appia." His smile and apparent blush brought a warm, uplifting sensation to Appia, reminding her that he would indeed be safe from harm.
Vitus' horse, Romulus, was brought to him by a slave; Vitus mounted the giant horse and waved a goodbye to his concerned mother and sister-in-law before turning around to meet Antonius at the front of the legion. Antonius and Vitus stood idle as they watched Lucius stand erect on his horse as he marched around the entire legion to make sure everything and everybody was accounted for.
"Men of the Twenty-Eighth!" Lucius rallied, unsheathing his sword and raising his voice so it carried across the entire legion. "Today, we march north to help our allies, the men of the Senate; surrounded by the ruthless barbarian hordes of the Gauls, Germans, and Britons! We will follow the task at hand and rescue our brothers, and, to send all those bastards to the afterlife! We have secured many victories in the past, and this one shall be no different! Today we march! Today we march to victory! Long live the glorious Republic of Rome, and long live the Julii that grants Rome her strength!"
The entire Twenty-Eighth Legion let out a fierce battle cry that woke everyone in Alesia from their slumber. They banged on their shields with their swords, they stomped their feet, they began hooting and hollering like wild animals, and they began chanting their general's name to the heavens. Lucius strode back to his son and Tribune, a prideful smile on his face at the sound of the men cheering his name. Another victory was sure at hand, another glory, his for the taking. The scouts on horseback lit the torches that would guide the legion and rode off out of the city, with Lucius, Antonius, and Vitus leading the marching legion out of the dark city, and off to war.
Finally, this chapter ends the introduction of the main characters and now I can go into the campaign against the way things are in my life right now, some updates and new chapters will be posted in at a slower rate, but I will definitely try to get it done. Like I said before, if you are continuing to read this then you have my utmost gratitude; and I appreciate your views and support.
- Kanuro5