Arthur Britannicus by Paul Bannister Read Free Book Online

could avenge his father. A fierce heat ran through his body, surprising him and somehow sealing the impulsive pact he was creating. The sorcerer Myrddin would be part of his life’s work, he knew with a certainty he could not explain, and some of that work would be about the return of his homeland to its rightful gods. Carausius shook his head to clear his thoughts. First things first, he thought. He’d join the army.
     
    Persuading Cait to let him enter the military was his next task, and it was a difficult one, but she saw that the teen had a sense of purpose, and gave reluctant blessing. Cenhud was sorry to see his fine steersman go, but recognized that with the turbulence in the empire it was only a question of time before Carausius was press-ganged into service anyway. Better go as a volunteer, he reasoned.
    So, a few weeks later, and after some basic training, the young Briton and several dozen other recruits recited the Sacramentum, that powerful oath of allegiance that changed a soldier’s life entirely. Once taken, the oath meant the legionary was the absolute subject of his general’s will and authority. On pain of death, he must obey in all things. However, he no longer had responsibility for any action he was ordered to do, be it muster, march or murder. 
    The army had some iron rules. A soldier would not desert and would not steal from the camp. He must take any plunder to the tribunes and would only leave the ranks to fight the enemy or to save a Roman citizen. One rule overrode all others: the safety of the emperor always came first, and the soldier would love nothing or no one, including himself or his children, more than he loved the emperor. One recruit stepped forward and recited the whole oath, then one by one, the others stepped forward and swore they would do it as the first man had said. Carausius uttered the ‘me, too’ words: “Idem in me,” and bound himself irretrievably to the Roman military.
    Life as a legionary was tolerable. There was a lot to absorb, and the drill sergeants were harsh, but Carausius was a quick learner.  All recruits had to take a Roman name on enlistment, but Carausius already bore one, a small mark in his favour. Years later, he’d add several more names, to honour his mentors and superiors, as it was more usual to have three names: your given (or personal name), the name of your clan and the cognomen which identified your family within the clan. After that, far in the future, all his names would be famous to some, infamous to others…
    Meanwhile, the youth had a lot to learn. In the barracks, he surveyed the pile of equipment and weapons for which he was now responsible, beginning with cleaning them.  Happily, he didn’t have to cope with the heavy, intricate armour worn by officers, but he did have a full torso chain mail shirt to clean and polish. This was worn over a heavy wool tunic that stretched to the knees.
    At the neck, he wore a scarf to protect his throat from chafing against the mail, and clasped at his right shoulder for better freedom of movement was his dull red cloak, the sagum. ‘Putting on the military sagum’ meant readying for war, as the hooded, oiled-wool cloak was the soldier’s most important clothing. It served as coat, blanket, groundsheet, impromptu sail or even, wrapped around the forearm, as a makeshift shield.  Its frequent, final use was as a burial shroud, but the centurion, a chipper Sabine who oversaw 80 soldiers, didn’t mention that to the recruits.
    “The best wool goods come from Britain,” he told them, “and you’re lucky because you have that stuff straight from the emperor’s own weaving sheds in Britannia. “It’s where they make the scarlet cloaks that are only worn by officers, so smarten up when you see one. The Brits have great respect for our Ruperts. They call them Red Dragons,” he said proudly, “and well they might. We’re the best troops in the world.”
    Carausius’ military kit had more