Aquila:Rhine River Patrol - A New Aquisition

Marcus looked at the Centurion. "I am very glad to meet you Centurion. Reporting for duty?" Marcus asked questioningly, "none of my ships are near completion yet. Are you sure that you have the right man?"

"Oh yes sir," said the Centurion, and then lowering his voice to a parade ground whisper, "Just call me Silvius sir. You see sir the lads are getting a bit restless in the fort sir. They need a change of duty, and if you would be so kind, we could watch the shipyard workers like, so the building materials for the ships don't go into some toadie's house in the vicus," Silvius had a conspiratorial look on his face, as he related his wishes and their obvious advantages to Marcus. "The lads are good boys over all sir, but they do need a change of scenery, like," continued the Centurion now warming to his subject.

Marcus had the distinct feeling that he was being led, but he found that he liked this big officer, and he replied." well, how about your Legate? Surely he doesn't want one of his best men out of his sight and beyond his authority. Once he releases you and your men to me, you wil be out of his jurisdiction."

Silvius brightened considerably, and in a confident voice said, "Oh he has already given me permission to seek you out sir, and to ask you about this consideration. He and the fort's Praefectus Castrorum have got to clear some room in the fort for another Legonary Vexalation that is due to soon arrive from the East. Rumor has it that they have lost their Primus Pilus and the Senior Tribune, for whatever reason, is not up to taking command. My commander will have these new troops on his hands for training and straightening out until the new commander is sent out from Rome, sir. I would not suppose that this new vexalation of troops are in any shape to be sent out to the Prvovincias or they would not be sent here." Marcus had to agree will Silvius' logic.

Marcus thought hard for a moment, and then looking up at the eager Silvius, said softly, "Well then, let us go and speak with your commander," The immediate grin that spread over Silvius'face at that announcement, somehow gave Marcus the uneasy feeling that he was moving into uncharted waters. Marcus gestured to the big Centurion, "well my friend, lead on," he said, and as Silvius moved off Marcus wondered what awaited him in the Legate's Office.

Marcus was somewhat surprised to find the Legate of the II Legion, "Adiutrix" relaxing in his rather spacious and luxurious quarters in the middle of the morning. There was no hint of legion business being conducted, nor were there the expected busy clerks and scrbae of the normal Legion office Outside the fort was carryig on it's normal business, but here at the supposed hub of the legion all was quiet. The Legate was enjoying a pitcher of wine and a plate of sliced fruit and meat with his senior Tribune when the house slave announced Marcus and Silvus' presence. The Legate waved them into the room and bade them be seated on the couches provided. "Gentlemen, welcome to my rather crowded quarters. May I send for refreshments? Do you have any preferences? My cook is skilled at most foriegn dishes, as well as our valued Roman ones." The legate smiled in a lanquid way. His Triune, beautifully uniformed, lay nonchalantly on a couch in front of the Legate, completely at ease.

 Marcus thought of his own small quarters in the shipyard which were less than a third the size of this spacious room, and he could see through an archway at least one other room for sleeping.  "Uhhh, no sir," said Marcus coming straight to the point of his visit.  "Centurion Silvius has indicated that you would like me to accept the troops for the marine detachment early to provide you with additional space for an incoming legion vexilation?"

"Oh dear, said the Legate, "you have come to discuss business. I was led to believe this was a social call."

Marcus was on his feet n an instant, and snapping to attention, he said in a strong voice, "Navarch Marcus Fulminatus Vindex, reporting sir.!!" Marcus knew that formally he was not required to call upon the Legion Commander as the ranks were equal, but he also knew that the Senior Legion Officer as representing the "senior service" expected it. Additionally either this officer was extremely efficient in his administration of his legion or there was something terribly wrong here.

The legate waved his hand again almost idly as if the effort was too much for him. "Oh please Commander Vindex, you will allow me to call you Commander will you not? The naval ranking system terminology is so difficult to remember." Marcus noted a humorless smile curl the lips of the tribune at this last remark. 'Great.' thought Marcus, 'and here e have a toady second in command.'

"If the term Commander gives you pleasure Legate Septronius, then by all means use it. I have no objection whatsoever," replied Marcus.

"Well then," said the legate, standing slowly at his lounge with his fingertips touching the small table which held the plate of fruit, "How may I be of service to you?" The man's easy manner had disappeared and he was once again a senior officer, and one who had been disturbed by business at his liesure.

"Sir,Centurion Silvius has indicated that his cohort is to be turned over to me somewhat in advance of the vessels of my squadron being completed. I will, of course, need your approval for this early turnover, and I should like to inquire as to what bunking and messing facilities , I can expect to house and feed these men in the fortress."

"I am very much afraid, sir, that you cannot expect any support in the areas that you mention from the fortress, with the exception of an adequate food and material supply." The new voice came from the archway, and was followed by an older man in the uniform of a Primus Pilus who stepped into the room. He was a tall man, his hair was cut very short, and it was pure white. Marcus Audens recognized the Praefectus Castrorum, immediately. "We shall be receiving a number of centuries from the east for retraining and we will need the space for them."

Marcus looked confused, "But sirs." he said hesitantly, "there are no living facilities in the shipyard."

"Yes," said the praefectus with a humorless smile," we are quite aware of that sitation, Navarch Vindex.

"However, we have endeavored to make some special accomodation for your troops," Legate Septronius said, with a heavy emphasis on the word "your!" Obviously Marcus was the last to hear of what "arrangements" had been made in his absence, and further the cohort of "marines" under discussion was already his. It lacked only the words and documents that confirmed it. Marcus felt the heat beginning to rise on the back of his neck.

"In the absence of sufficient berthing facilities, it is planned that the incoming cohorts will be put immediately to erecting their own semi-permanent quarters. When these are completed, then there will again e sufficient room for your cohort if your vessels are not completed by that time. Until then, we have approached the Vicus Magistrate, and your cohort will be housed in the town under the roofs of civilian homes. It will be somewhat awkward, I know, but the existancies of the service, you understand," the legate waved his hand again, and the Tribune grinning, stood, saluted and left the room. as if on cue. "Tribune Titanius has gone to make the final arrangements for the transfer of the troops to your command. Will there be anything else that we can help you with?"

Marcus was furious. These arrangements had been made without the least attempt to get his views or even contact him. He felt like a puppet, in the hands of a skilled puppet-master. Marcus glanced quickly at Centurion Silvius, and saw that the soldier had remained standing at attention during the conversation. His face being completely devoid of all emotion. Marcus considered that the best course of action was to simply contain his temper and objections. It seemed that neither would get him any further consideration here in any event. Centurion Silvius' behavior rang a warning bell in Marcus, and it occurred to him that at the moment regardlss of his feelings he did not have much choice in the matter. Marcus decided to ride it out. "No sir," he said with mock politeness,"I believe that covers the whole of the reason that I came. My apologies for disturbing you at your liesure." This last remark was directed at the obvious lack of visible work being accomplished in the middle of the day. However, if Marcus hoped to score a point with his comment, he was totally disappointed at the legate's next response.

"Why that is quite all right Commander, you are new here and could not have known. We were expecting you some time today, in any event, although --," the legate's smile froze for just a moment,"Centurion Silvius might have mentioned it!" The legate's smile returned as he slipped back onto his couch and reached for a piece of sliced fruit. "The tribune will see to it that all the necessary documents are transferred to your command office, in the shipyard proper, I believe?"

"Yes sir, that wil e quite satisfactory. With your permission, I will take my leave of you now." Marcus turned to the soldier beside him," are you coming Centurion?"

"uhhh, Oh yes sir. Thank you sir. With your leave Legate Septronus?" The legate waved his hand in that lanquid way again that he had and dismissed them. He picked up his wine goblet again to take a sip. Marcus was nearly blind with fury, and he left the room immediately following the slave down the long hallway to the main entrance. He thought that he heard a sound of quiet laughter behind him, but his mind was too full of anger and frstration to take immediate notice. 'The legate slipped,' thought Marcus,'when he made his last remark about the centurion. That is where the answer lies to all this.' Beside him the centurion marched stolidly keeping easy pace with Marcus' rapid steps.

Sometime later after the centurion had departed to inform his cohort of the new plans, Marcus sought an out of the way small wine stand, where he entered and ordered a cup of Falernian wine and a jug of water. He took a seat and bent to consider the past hour. He was alone in the stand except for the waiter, a large ugly looking man who left and went into a tent behind the counter. Marcus had made arrangements to meet Silvius for a late supper at a place in the vicus. that was a favorite of the centurion. Silvius said that he would send a slave to show Marcus the way. Marcus knew that he would have to visit the Vicus Magistrate, and he also knew that this whole effort would have to be handled very delicately, but also very firmly. A combination that fairly screamed of failure Well, he now had a cohort centurion and a short cohort of "marines, nearly five hundred men for the four ships and a land -based facility, at his call if he needed them.

He also realized that a visit and soon to the fort food storeooms to make arrangements for food and wine for these five hundred troops was necessary, as well as a visit to the suppliers for replentishment supplies and ship supplies needed to be worked out. Delivery of these food supplies to the civilian households burdened with housing his legionarys, would be critical in preventing bad feelings among the civilian populace. Then to, there was the question of dicipline which was sure to arise with military stationed however, temporarily in civilian homes. He took a sip of wine. This morning had certainly turned up a mountain of work. His mind turned to the Fleet Praefectus and Marcus wondered why all this information had not come from him. His very next act would be to call on the Fleet Commander to inform him of this new situation, even though Marcus had the suspiction that it would do little good, or make any real difference.

Sitting with a cup of watered wine in his hand , Marcus considered his position. Four ships a-building and the legion officers as well as the Praefecus Castrorum were trying to make it as difficult as possible for him. He was new here and to his knowledge had made no enemies prior to today. He had no clue as to why these men were working against him. He well knew that the incoming legion vexilation could be diverted to a field camp until the semi-permanent barracks were built, but apparently that had not even been considered. This cohort centurion and his men had been passed on to him months early for no good reason, and they were quartered in the vicus which was bound to cause trouble and resentment in the civilian community. The less than lukewarm and offhand reception by the legio commander and the extensive arrangements made without his input or knowledge were also very strange. He knew that legion officers, as the senior service, were sometimes difficult to deal with, but this was totally outside of his experience or of any thing that he had ever heard before. Marcus knew that there must be an answer somewhere, and that he would ultimately find out what it was, but at the moment he simply did not have enough information to even begin to work it out. At this oint the key was probably the centurion. He would eventually see it all he knew, but for the moment he could only carry out his orders. His view of the legion commander was that the legate could not see past his legion troops, and it seemed that he was even willing to sacrifice a cohort and cohort commander into the bargain . That was as strange as anything he had yet encountered. Legion commanders were normally very sensitive about losing any men and this legate was litaerally throwing his men at Marcus!!!. Marcus did not think that Sivius was a bad commander, although that might be part of the reason, but it still did not make a great deal of sense.

As Marus pondered his options, deep in thought, the sounds of a nearby scuffle and a woman's scream broke through his thoughts. In the back tent of this little stand there was some kind of struggle going on. Another scream, and some violent cursing followed the first, and Marcus stood abruptly knocking over his bench. Leaving the table he strode to the back of the room,and around the counter with it's several wine jars set into it. "I can't even feel sorry for myself in peace and quie," Marcus muttered to himself, as he pushed aside the leather curtains and walked into the tent.

The tent was obviously an old legion tent and was quite spacious inside, or it would have been if the bales, boxes, and piles of various goods had been put away neatly. Around the tent were several piles of clothing, some pottery, and on the ground a small leather pouch of copper coins was spilled. Struggling in the center of the tent was a large man with an ugly scar across his face, and he was holding a woman by the throat and twisting her wrist behind her. The woman's white face and terrible grimace indicated her pain, just as the lopsided grin on the man's lips indicated his pleasure in giving it.

"What in Hades is going on here?" bellowed Marcus. "Can you not take your quarrels elsewhere?"

The big man whirled, still holding the women's wrist in a vice-like grip he clawed with his other hand at his side for a large belted sword-knife that hung there.

"Touch it and you are a dead man," said Marcus loudly, taking up a fighting crouch. He had immediately drawn his gladius and now pointed it at the big man's throat The ugly lump of a man looked like he may have been a gladiator at one time, and Marcus decided to take no chances.

The big man froze in place and tried to make up his mind whether or not he could reach his weapon without this intruder cutting him. Herrick the Club, as he was known, knew instinctively that he wouldn't be able to make it. That determined look in this intruder's eye and the steadiness of that blade at his throat told Herrick that he must give over and settle this in siome other way. The big man slowly relaxed and then with a sudden violent move threw the woman onto pile of discarded tables and benches. "None of your damn business," he snarled in a gravelly voice," my slave, my decision, Get Out!!!!

By now there was a gathering of people at the doorway to the wineshop, who were looking in to see what all the shouting was about.

"Not your slave any more," said Marcus, fumbling for some coins in his pouch. He had six gold pieces and some other smaller coins in his pouch. "My slave now," he said with finality, as he threw the pouch and money to the ground between them.

The big man glared at Marcus and then screamed at those in the doorway, "Call the watch, call the damn watch and be quick about it!!"

"Yes, by all means call the watch." said Marcus quickly, " and you can explain the black eye, and the whip marks on the slave's back. I suppose that you are in good with the local magistrate," he added smoothly, hoping that the big man's miserable manner was not just an isolated outburst.

"Uhhhh, that won't ne ecessary after all," said Herick, and stepping toward the tent opening he shouted to the people crowded there, "Get Out, all of you Get Out!! the shop is closed." As the bystanders scattered, Herrick tipped over the tables and the benches, and turned to confront Marcus again.

Marcus had followed the big man's movements with the point of the sword taking no chances. The woman sat on the pile of old furniture holding her right arm. She was cryig softly, her long dark hair covering part of her face. The bleeding scars on her back dark on her lighter skin. Her ragged shift was torn where Herrik had ripped the strap over her shoulder. She held the torn garment next to her body as best she could with her wounded arm.

Herrick came back intothe tent and stooed to pick up the coin purse. Marcus backed away a step following Herrick's movements again with his sword point. Herrick emptied th purse into his hand and looking up with hooded eyes, said with a snarl, No enough!"

"Damaged Goods," snapped Marcus. "Damaged goods and twenty witnesss to your mistreatment of this slave. Thatshould be good for a month or so in the quarries."

Atthe mention of the quarries, a local punishment for the civil population who caused trouble, the big man straightened. "Is that yopur intention," he asked, again with a snarl.

"No," said Marcus," but only because I have no time for the likes of you. Take the money, I'll take the girl and we're square," he said his eyes never leaving hs opponent. "I'm a naval officer and a senior one at that, so the Magistrate will listen to what I say."

Herrick blinked his eyes as thugh he was looking at this intruder for the first time. His tunic, insignia, and the steady gladius pointed still and steady at his throat decided him. "Uhhh, done," he said with resignation, and then looking up with a fierce light again in his eyes, said,"then Get Out, and take the slut with you. She's a useless piece of baggage at best. Glad to be rid of her." Then he very cautiously touched the hilt of his sword-knife, and said softly with an evil grin on his face, "but I'll be looking for you in the streets after dark when the watch ain't around."

The sound of a chair scraping on the bricks outside the tent caught both men's attention. Marcus moved to the tent opening to see two men wearing light armor and weapons straightening the benches. The older man of the two turned to Marcus and pointing to the sword in Marcus' hand said, " any trouble here?"

"Well, Uhhh, why no, Uhh I ws just showing this shopkeeper the advantage of a sword over a knife." Marcus said lamely. All he needed at this point was trouble with the watch. These Vigiles usually were not sympathetic to any excuses, and a night in a jail cell, and a visit the next day to a local Praetor to sort it all out didn't bother them a bit.

Herrick stepped in front of the woman shielding her from the watch's curious looks, and snarled," Get yer clothes on bitch!!" He looked back at the two men, "just a little horse-tradin' goin' on. This gentleman just bought a worthless slave, to warm his bed morelike. The gods know she good for naught else." As the woman struggled to cover herself wth one arm holding a dirty robe, Herrick turned back to Marcus and said, "Our business is finished. Take the bitch and clear outta here and don't come back." Marcus paled at the order, but managed to hold his temper in check. He sheathed his sword and handed the woman out of the tent and through the shop into the alleyway. She huddled bent over and shivering. Her crying had stopped but she still clutched her arm and her face remained hidden by her dirty cascading hair.

The older Vigile turned to Marcus, and said crisply, "Sir, we'll be watching Herrick here while you take the girl away. We have a question or two for him anyways,"

"My thanks," said Marcus and he turned to the woman and adressed himself to her. "Come with me," he urged, "and we'll get you cleaned up a bit and tend to your back."

"I think my arm is broken,: said the woman, and she began to cry again.

(To Be Continued)

((Marcus Audens))