Chapter XVII
"It is not death that a man should fear, but he should fear never beginning to live.” - Marcus Aurelius
Birdsong. A gentle dawn light flowed through a window and a winter sun began to rise. I felt hot and I was sweating. Every movement set off cascades of pain from my shoulder and I was aware of pain elsewhere but not like the shoulder, more gentle somehow.
I tried to elevate myself onto my elbow but there was a weakness in my arms and my eyelids felt heavy as if weighted down. There was a cool hand on my brow. Comforting, calming. There was a voice too but it echoed and sounded far away as in a dream.
'He feels hot,' the voice said. It was a female voice and it seemed vaguely familiar.
I tried to agree, but no words came and I drifted back into another world. It was a place where two small boys were battling with wooden swords for a crown, in front of a huge crowd. I smiled to myself. Julius, the boy next door, was winning and I could feel the wooden sword hit me in the right groin. That was unfair! It was painful.
Then Julius changed into a tall dark barbarian, dressed in red and green laggings and a bearskin cloak. The badly scarred face grimaced frighteningly as he attacked me. I was only a little boy! Blue eyes, steel-cold, piercing, stabbing at my little face! I looked up at the fierce bearded face and wondered why such a man was picking on a boy of my age. There was a momentary confusion and all went quiet.
'The fever will break soon; I'm sure, Your Majesty. You must get some rest,' a man's voice this time and that thin strand of reality made me open my eyes. There was a sudden clarity and I saw her face.
'Yes, she looks tired,' I thought to myself and I wondered if it was Hypsicratea or another dream. I felt content somehow, my eyes closed again, and I relaxed. Time seemed to pass and there were more dreams, angry, violent dreams of battles fought, death and blood, but also dreams of the beautiful regal face of the Pontic Queen.
It was a full week before my fever broke. The shoulder had been badly infected where the sword had cut me and although it had been sutured neatly enough, it had to be re-opened to let out the pus, by the Pontic physician who Hypsicratea had summoned.
I later learned that Hypsicratea had sat with me constantly almost without sleep or rest and had arranged for my treatment by the best doctors in the city.
The fever declined quite suddenly on the eighth day and I opened my eyes, weak but aware. I looked with full awareness at the Queen’s face for the first time since the fight with the corsairs.
'I saw you in a dream,' I said quietly.
'I thought you did,' she said. 'You talked quite a lot about someone called Julius and fighting a Gaul. You mentioned my name as well.'
'Where am I?'
'In the palace. The Roman surgeon had sewn your wound but it became septic and my own doctors and it had to be opened to let out the poison. They have been looking after you. I have been so worried.'
I grimaced with pain as I tried to lift myself up but I felt better this time and managed to prop myself up on my left elbow. Hypsicratea called to her maidservant and some broth was spooned into my mouth. It made me cough and splutter at first but swallowing became easier with each mouthful.
'Junius brought you back to the barracks but the Roman doctor despaired of you life. He said you had lost so much blood that you would die. Junius came here and he begged me to do something.'
'I owe you my life then.'
'We both owe each other our lives,' she said with a grin, 'Junius brought you here in one of my sedan chairs, and you have been here ever since. The doctor says your shoulder may be permanently stiff, but what do doctors know? They spend half the time praying and the other half making their stinking potions. Maybe you got better despite him!'
'I don't know what to say, your kindness is more than I deserve.'
'Yes I suppose it is,' she grinned again, 'Perhaps you will pay me back one day and then I will owe you something again. I am happy that you are getting better. I would have missed you badly if you had died. I didn't realise how much, until Junius came.'
I looked at her and wondered if there was some chance she might feel about me as I did about her, but I knew that it was a forlorn hope. I remember thinking that I wanted the use of my arm as much to put it around her as to fight with.
'Did the doctors say when I will be fit to return to the legion?'
'They suggested a further week in bed and then recovery over six weeks by the Roman calendar.'
'I have to see my commanding officer and make my report.'
'Well, it seems the report has already been made to Lucullus. A Tribune called Marcus Mettius took it upon himself to do that. Junius will tell you all about it.'
'Marcus! I wouldn't trust him for all the gold in Pontus. Besides, he was unconscious through most of it. Can you get word to Junius and ask him to come? I need to speak to him.'
'I'll try, but the last I heard was that he was under house-arrest pending some sort of enquiry.'
'I'll go to him then.'
I tried to sit up but my head swam and I was unable to do more than fall back onto the sheets. The pain in my shoulder began again and waves of exhaustion flowed over me.
'Aulus, you must rest now and with time you will heal. Don't undo the doctor's good work by struggling.'
She sat with me until I slept again and later must have sent word to Junius that I was improving.
He came that evening. I was awake at that time and a servant was feeding me. As she spooned the broth into my mouth, I heard him arrive. He seemed subdued but I thought at first this was because of my recent ill health.
'Aulus! My dear friend, I am so pleased to see you back in the land of the living!'
'It's good to see you my friend,' I said, 'what news?'
'I managed to get out of the billet long enough to get here but I hope I won't be disciplined if they find out.'
'Disciplined? Have you been confined to quarters?'
'Yes, your wonderful cousin claims that he was on the track of the corsairs and their spies. He has told Lucullus that you started killing them and that is why we won't find out any more information,' he said.
'That is so typical of the man! He never had any honour that one. Does Lucullus believe him? Surely he knows enough about Mettius to see that he's lying?'
'I don't know about that, but the General is waiting until you have recovered and then wants us to give him our side of the story. I can't say I'm looking forward to it. I'm stuck in the house of Polymecles and can't do anything. I've been going mad. If it wasn't for Aripele I would have,' he stared past me for a moment clearly thinking of things far away from my sick bed.
'Junius, we stick together and tell the truth. It is the Roman way. Sorry, that sounds trite, but it will be the best policy whatever happens. I think Lucullus is no fool.'
'Let's hope he isn't.'
'I owe you my life, you know. You always said you would watch my back. One day I hope I'll repay you my friend.'
'Look my little friend; you owe me nothing but friendship. We have fought and bled in this legion and it creates ties between us all. I know you would look after me as I would look after you. It's the bond we have forged.'
With that, he turned and made for the door.
'Junius, just one more thing. How is Polymecles? He seemed feverish when we left.'
'Don't worry about him. He is as tough as old sandals, he just doesn't know it. I almost forgot, he asked me to bring you some fruit from him, but I ate it on the way.'
Junius smiled as he spoke and if I could have thrown something at him, I would have.
* * *
The temperature had dropped and even in Pontus, there was a bitter north wind bringing a cold Scythian rain to the capital. The room in the command headquarters smelled of burning oil lamps. The General had left the remains of his breakfast on the table before him, and an Orderly stepped forward to remove it. Lucullus waved the man away and studied us. He was wearing a thick woollen
cloak of red wool and a white neck scarf. His disappointment showed on his face and I wondered how the General had formed such a low opinion of what I had thought of as a successful operation.
The brazier in the corner of the room crackled and the damp unseasoned wood began to catch. I could feel an insect crawl beneath my right armpit but standing to attention meant I had to tolerate its presence.
'The whole matter has been reported to me in detail,' the General said, reaching for a fig from his breakfast platter, 'had it not been for Marcus Mettius, the outcome could have resulted in courts martial for you both. As it is, he pleaded your case very well and I am inclined to be lenient. Have you anything to say?'
'Sir,' I remained standing rigidly to attention, 'We had no intention of fighting with the corsairs at the meeting. We had intended to find out more about their connections and agents in the legions. Tribune Mettius caused the fight and we had no choice but to respond.'
'That isn't what your cousin says. He says that you started the fight. Centurion Bassus seems to corroborate that. You will recall, he was also present. Either way, you killed Asinnius prematurely, for we are none the wiser about the identity of the rest of the traitors. Asinnius deserved to die like a dog, for he betrayed Rome, but you failed in your mission and I no longer regard either of you as useful now.'
'Are we to be punished?' Junius asked.
'No, there is nothing to punish. All you did seems to have been within the competencies expected of an enlisted man. It makes it clear however, that neither of you is officer material and the chance of either of you making Centurion in the future with this kind of blemish on your records is negligible.'
I was uncertain whether to be pleased or disappointed. To escape punishment was a relief but to have a tarnished record despite my best intentions would indeed jeopardise my chances of later promotion unless I did something exemplary in battle. Battle however, was a long way off by all accounts and the legions were not expecting to move to Armenia until the early summer. Meanwhile, putting up with Marcus Mettius in the same legion was more of a punishment than any that Lucullus might have dreamed up, I thought.
Lucullus stood up and placed himself in front of the brazier, lifting his tunic at the back to warm the tops of his legs. He looked at our hapless faces.
'Veridius, I heard you cornered Asinnius and killed him when you were already wounded nearly losing your life in the process. Tell me what happened.'
I shuffled uncomfortably from foot to foot, like a little boy reciting his lessons to his tutor and began to describe the fight with the Centurion. When I came to the end, Lucullus said, 'Meridius clearly taught you well. He always spoke highly of your swordsmanship and to apply it when you were wounded like that, is exemplary. How is the shoulder?'
'Healing quickly sir. It's stiff but I am practicing daily with a gladius and hope to be fit for the spring campaign, sir.'
'That's the stuff, Decurion. You are both dismissed. You won't make spies, but I suppose you both have fighting skills that will be needed before too long.'
We turned about with the usual foot stamping and left the building.
'That was a close one.'
'Aulus, I thought he was genuinely impressed with your tale of the fight with Asinnius.'
'It wasn't a tale! It happened that way.'
'That's not what I meant. Perhaps things aren't as gloomy as I had thought. At least we got away without punishment. That cousin of yours needs sorting out though. I may kill him myself, if I get a chance one of these days.'
'Leave him to me. He clearly lied to the General and that bastard Bassus, the fat fool, backed him up. There is no one who would take our word against his is there?'
'Maybe not now that Meridius is dead. Maybe they're trying to get you thrown out of the legion and then without the protection of your comrades they could take the amulet?'
'Perhaps, but they wouldn't find it that easy. I spent a lot of my life staying alive in the Subura and it makes you sharp!'
'Don't get too cocky. That Bassus is a good fighter I hear.'
'I can take care of myself.' I said.
Junius thumped me on the shoulder playfully but realised the mistake immediately. I grasped my shoulder and swore like the trooper I was.
'By the balls of Jupiter himself! You stupid bloody, clumsy, country bastard! It feels like my shoulder's on fire! How can you be so stupid?'
Junius apologising, showed his embarrassment by a flush of his cheeks.
'It's all right, but be a bit more careful. It's only four weeks since I was lying on my death-bed,' I said as the pain subsided.
'I never heard you refer to the Queen's palace in those terms before,' smiled Junius.
We looked at each other and a smile rapidly replaced the grimace of pain. I knew there were few people in the whole Empire who could make me smile as Junius could.
As we walked, the conversation centred on the forthcoming campaign against the Armenians. We were interrupted by a gravelly voice behind us.
'Decurions! I want a word.'
It was Bassus. Two large legionaries that neither of us recognised flanked the stout Centurion.
'Sir!' I said, as we stood to attention.
'Well? Have you considered my offer?' he said tapping my injured shoulder with his vine cane.
'What offer?' I said.
'Don't play games with me! The amulet. I still want it and you still have it. I don't expect that situation to last.'
'Sir, I told you, Marcus can go rot. He isn't having the amulet for any reason and you can't take it without risking your life. The penalty for killing an enlisted man is death isn't it?'
'And so is the penalty for holding out on me.'
'Is that all?'
'Yes that's all. You had better watch your back Sonny, or you may find a knife in it.'
Clearly irritated, Bassus was scratching his beard thoughtfully as we walked away. He turned on his heel and went back towards the palace to report to Marcus Mettius.
I touched the green stone around my neck. I could feel the silver wiring that held its two halves in place. Why was Marcus so interested in it anyway? He was rich. He didn't need the information it contained. Even if he had it, he would not know what to do with it I thought.
I pictured my father all those years before, his round face and his smile. I remembered him saying, 'You know what Etruscan is don't you Aulus?'
We walked in silence, for each of us knew that we could expect violence from Marcus now. The matter was almost out in the open and we knew that caution was required.
BOOK III: ARMENIA