Soldier of Rome: The Centurion (The Artorian Chronicles) by James Mace Read Free Book Online

Artorius replied, as he and Praxus tried to put as much distance between themselves and the Century’s billet, lest Fulvius be watching them.
    “Sir, I understand the need for hard discipline in the legions,” the soldier said quickly, as if trying to say everything he could before it escaped him. “I’ve always borne my lashes with dignity, for they were always warranted. I have also spent time as an aide before. I got tasked to spend a week as Centurion Macro’s aide right out of recruit training. I was scared out of my mind to be working so close to him, but he was alright. You and he have always been hard but fair with us. Punishments and rewards were always doled out based on our merits, nothing more or less. But now…” He stopped and lowered his head. His body was trembling slightly and it took every ounce of his resolve to keep his composure.
    “Now rewards will be based on who bribes the Centurion,” Praxus continued for him, “and punishments will come to those who are unable or unwilling to do so.”
    “Forgive me sir,” the legionary said, maintaining his bearing once more. “I just do not know what to do. I have one more day left as his aide and I don’t know if I can go back there tomorrow…I hate that he hides behind his rank. He told me that if I dared to raise a hand to protect myself that he would have me flogged and then strangled! I know that in a fair fight I could break him…sorry , sirs, I mean no disrespect to his position.”
    “It is not you who disrespects his office,” Artorius replied finally. “We will do what we can. As for tomorrow, I know the Century is scheduled for a day-long road march , so go have your face attended to and get some rest.”
    “We are?” Praxus asked with a look of puzzlement on his face. As he caught Artorius’ stare, his eyes suddenly brightened. “Ah yes, of course. It will be good for the lads’ fitness since it is that time of year again.”
     
    Artorius dreaded returning to the Century’s administrative office, but he knew he had no choice. Rufio, the Century’s Signifier, had made himself scarce at some point. Fulvius was sitting behind a desk with his feet up on it, drinking a cup of foul smelling wine. Drinking during duty hours was a severely punishable offense, regardless of one’s rank. Artorius decided to mind his tongue.
    “You’ve got some discipline problems within this century I see,” Fulvius mused, waving his vine stick absentmindedly. “If you’re not quick to correct them, I will do it for you.”
    “As part of maintaining order, as well as the men’s physical fitness, we are scheduled for a road march tomorrow,” Artorius replied. “Since it’s early in the spring we will keep it light, only about fifteen miles. It is customary for the Centurion to lead us on these marches. It will give the men a chance to meet you in person.”
    “Can’t,” Fulvius replied immediately, “got pressing business to take care of. You’d best start pressing the men about my offers regarding the duty roster. I want to see results by the time you get back.”
     
    It was late when Artorius and Vitruvius knocked on the door to Centurion Lincinius’ quarters. The Optio had explained the situation to his friend, who offered to go with him to help make his case to the Cohort Commander.
    “We have to try and let the system work,” Vitruvius had advised.
    “Who the hell is it knocking on my door at this hour?” They heard coming from inside the room. The outer office of the First Century was lit by a small oil lamp on the Signifier’s desk. As Lincinius opened the door he was surprised at the sight of the two men who greeted him.
    “Oh, Centurion Vitruvius,” he said with a nod. “Ah, and you are Optio…”
    “Artorius,” the Optio replied. “Sir , we need your help. I apologize for the hour, but this cannot wait.”
    “Very well,” the Pilus Prior replied, coming out into the office. “What is it that requires you to wake