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Leaving the Meridas farm was almost as difficult for me as leaving Lucius had been. While we said our good-byes, and stoically bit back tears, Julia made me promise to write her. I told her I would do my best. She glanced over to Maximus, who was being detained by his brother, the two in deep conversation. “If he gets to be insufferable, again, aim lower.” She hugged me hard, then turned to her son. The tears flowed in earnest. I knew she worried for Maximus and me, because the future is always uncertain. Particularly for soldiers, because one never knew what enemy would come out to challenge. In those days, the winds of change were beginning to blow strongly, despite all efforts to stand fast against them, and cling to the familiar.Her concern for Justinus was different. He had come from her body and the mother-child bond was strong, even twenty years later. And too, no parent wants their child to die, before they pass into the Otherworld. When Justinius would have leave to return home again, was anyone’s guess. He kissed his mother’s forehead, promising he would be careful, and come home, as soon as he could. He gave his sister the same treatment, and was held by his father.
Antonius and I had never really had much opportunity to get to know one another, though he had always been kind, in what dealings he had had with me. He caught me that morning, as I was saddling the horses for Justinius, Maximus, and myself. I had taken my last walk among the Spanish horses, just before. He leaned his elbows on the stall, while I worked. It was a while, before he spoke.
“Look after them, for me.” His green gaze held me steadily.
“I’ll do my best, Sir.”
“My wife and children love you. If you need somewhere to go, when your time with my brother is over, don’t hesitate to come back to us. You have a home here, always.” He smiled, and pumped my hand, then went off to find the general. I remember finding it odd, that so many seemed to care so much about me, simply because I belonged to Maximus. I wondered if they would have loved another, had the general purchased someone else. I supposed I could always ask Justinius, but never did.
The soldiers we had traveled with came out from Emerita, to return east with us. None were eager to leave, but unfortunately, our vacation was over, and it was time to join the legions in Germania. On the way, we would stop again in Tarraco, and meet with fresh troops from the VII Gemina legions that would replace their brethren, at the Danube.
For the first few days, Maximus was lenient regarding my boundaries. He directed me to start finding as much game as I could between Emerita and Tarraco, then dry and smoke the meat at night, when we stopped. He restricted portion sizes at meals. When questioned about it, he just said that the group we would be meeting was a century, or more. We would need reserves of food for the month’s ride, enough for us, and them. Provisions would be sent, but the new legionnaires would not know any of us, and might not be as apt to cooperate willingly with orders. I made a mental note to heed my master’s warning, and stay with him or Justinius, most times, as he had told me to do, before.
The possibility of insubordination puzzled me, however, and I brought it up to Maximus, one night. We were still uncomfortable around one another, but it was getting easier. Justinius attributed it to the swing I had taken at Maximus, which he had found funny, when told about it. But once travelling, Maximus was a bit more himself, and there was little time for the foolish gazes and quiet moments, of before. It was far simpler to be two warriors, with things to do, and to discuss practical matters.
“Won’t they just follow orders from a superior, as a matter of course?” It seemed to me, that it should not have mattered who was wearing the armor of the commander, the orders came from Rome.
“Ideally, yes. But it doesn’t work that way, often. The men you saw in Ostia obey me even when they don’t agree, because I have proved myself to them, over time. I would think you would understand. Don’t your people fight as individuals, rather than as a unit?”
He had a point. We had our leaders, it was true, extraordinary men that were known to raise others to their cause, and make them fight as one, because their bravery and wisdom inspired the same in the group. But for the most part, we were often divided amongst ourselves, even within families, so unity was rare, unless it was for a common cause. My namesake came to mind. She had had the loyalty of many tribes, some of them former enemies, because she had rallied them over the oppression of Rome. The intertribal strife had quickly torn that apart, though. Between the brilliant tactics of Suetonius Paulinus, and the factions within her own camp, her rebellion was doomed, ultimately. Had she been as much peacemaker as she was warrior, Rome could never have held Britannia captive, for long.
“The only difference,” he continued when I nodded, “is that we pay for the loyalty of our men. Insubordination results in demotion or discharge, and thus, loss of wages. Or death.” I understood. It was a good way, although Maximus’ leadership was also a deciding factor, for the more seasoned-soldiers under him, at least. He had earned the trust and fidelity of his men, because he would not let them suffer what he himself would not, and retained his humility and sincerity, despite his considerable position.
In the end, I know that was part of the reason I stayed with him, as well. The gods know, I had plenty of opportunity to slip away, unfettered as I was, during a hunt, or whatever activity allowed me distance from the rest of the party. Maximus’ honor produced the same in others. By example, he won loyalty. From most, anyway.
We arrived in Tarraco just ahead of the replacement corps. Maximus spent time with his senior officers, planning the best route to join with the main army. They chose the Via Domitia road, from Tarraco to Narbo Martia. From there we would turn north and east, to Lugdunum. We were a few days ahead of our scheduled return, and Maximus did not see any reason why the detour would hurt. He claimed business to conduct there, and we could get food and other supplies that would be depleted by a sizeable group on the move.
Justinius teased him about his ‘business’, when the three of us were behind closed doors. “Are you sure you don’t just want to see your old friend, Uncle? The gladiator?”
Maximus’ reply was a feigned innocence. “Tigris? What gave you that idea? Lugdunum is on our way. If we go through Cemenelum, we have to go through higher mountains, and harder passes. Even in summer, that way is not always safe. But yes, I would like to see him. I have some things to discuss with him.” He glanced at me, while I studied him, then looked away.
I had heard the name. I think no gladiator alive, particularly Gael or Celt, had not, and not without a bit of national pride. Once, his name had been spoken as the only undefeated champion in the arena, from one end of the Empire to the other. Now he was described as only having been defeated one time, and I had the idea I was in the presence of the victor of that one misfortunate battle. When Justinius left, I approached him about it.
“You made a friend of him?” He merely shook his head in the affirmative, retracing the map with a forefinger, following the route from Lugdunum to Vindobona, and scribbling notes on a piece of parchment. “Why?”
“Why not? Ever feel badly about defeating an opponent?” He looked up from the map, challenging me with his sea-colored eyes. “Or did you just kill them, and wait for the next match?”
“No. My first one was the hardest. She was a housegirl. But I didn’t like killing any of them. I just had to, or I would have been.”
“Why didn’t you let her live? You had that option.” I had forgotten that he had not seen my first two fights.
“Because they would have given her to the lions, or had her raped by a donkey, for everyone to see. I made death fast for her.” I played with the end of my braid, which had become quite a habit, for me, of late. Something akin to sympathy crossed Maximus’ face.
“I watched a family of Christians be fed to the lions, once. Haunts me, even now. Tigris was just a simple pawn in a game between Commodus and myself. I didn’t kill him, because Commodus wanted me to, and really, I had no wish to. Later, I went to apologize for the blow to his honor. He gave me friendship, in return.” I knew not what to say about that, other than I was glad he had had that opportunity. He sighed, “So am I. Tigris is the one who warned me about your friend Livius. He’s the reason I ever watched you fight, to begin with. The Numibian woman you killed, was one of his. She had won all her battles, until you.”
“She was brave.” He nodded. I yawned, and found my furs and blankets. Unlike the first time in Tarraco, I would be in Maximus’ room.
I went about my nightly routine, to get Maximus to sleep, as well, and then wondered, “Do you think he will hold it against me?” He took a moment to think about it, while he dropped to his knees, for prayer.
“No. An owner is almost always bound to lose his best fighters to better ones. He knows you were only doing what was required of you. He will like you a great deal, and I think you will like him, as well. The two of you share a common enemy.” He looked at me pointedly. He did not have to tell me, that Tigris had probably gladly told Maximus everything he would need to know about Livius, that I could not.
Finished with his ritual, Maximus lay down heavily on his pallet. I lay in my pile of blankets and furs, feeling the wet nose of Lupa against my arm. There was no sound for a while, and though I was very tired, I watched the stars dance merrily on their black stage, through the window. Then the knife of the general’s voice cut the stillness. “Remind me tomorrow, to fit you with a sword. There’s no telling what might happen, before we get to Germania. That dagger might not be enough.”
“No, it won’t. I need at least one more.”
“I know. Where would you keep it?”
“Hidden.” Never tell anyone where you conceal your protection, my mother echoed in my head.
“Where?”
“If I told you, it wouldn’t be hidden, would it?” His soft rumbling chuckle floated down to me on the warm night air, enveloping Lupa and me in his mirth. I was already falling asleep, with visions of tigers and flashing weapons, playing in my head. I could hear the chant of the crowd, “Maximus! Maximus! Maximus!”
The unknown was the least of our worries, I surmised, looking over the ragtag assembly of soldiers sent to serve under the X Gemina and Felix banners, at Vindobona. Justinius, used to the well-kept appearance of the legions east, and raised on stories of the valor and tenacity of his forebears, the group of over a hundred men before us was stomach-churning for him.
“General, they’re little more than mercenaries.”
Maximus looked unimpressed, but not surprised, either. “I think you are seeing the future of the army. Men who fight for the cause that might serve their own interests, best.” I wondered how he felt about that. His entire career had been about duty to Rome, and the advancement he had achieved was the result of that dedication, rather than the gaining-favor and flattering that others employed. He was a fine example for the young officer who was sadly shaking his head.
“I hope I am retired, before I see that happen.”
“You won’t be.” In the general’s eyes, was the certainty that he would see it before he retired, too.
The man in charge held the same rank as Justinius, but his rise to Centurion had no doubt been a bit dubious, in nature. He eyed my friend’s place just to the hind right of Maximus, with disdain. His glance swept over the other officers, then rested on me, holding the reins of the general’s horse. His eyes narrowed, taking in the things my clothing could not hide, and the long sword that hung down my back. I stared back, unconcerned. He snapped back to attention, when Maximus addressed him, asking his name.
“Marcus Opellius Macrinus, Sir.”
“Your command looks a bit in disarray. Care to explain?”
“I sent for new issue, months ago, but you know how slowly these things go.”
Maximus nodded. “Well enough. They’re not all Spanish.”
“No, many are Gauls, or from Africa. The trouble in the East, and in Britannia,” he glanced at me, “has taken many of the Spanish troops.”
“I see. Well, are your men ready to ride now, or do you need a day’s rest?” Macrinus, weasel that I took him for, was at least eager to prove his mens’ aptitude for a hard pace.
“We’re ready, when you are, Sir.”
“We’ll probably intercept the supplies on the way, unless they are coming by boat.”
“Yes, Sir. May I say it is a pleasure to be able to serve under you? Your family is well spoken of, as are your deeds.” Justinius coughed; Maximus merely thanked him, while accepting the reins from me. Our twenty-three riders left him open-mouthed in astonishment over the abruptness of the general’s manner.
The four-day journey to Lugdunum was without event, and we saw no sign of the supplies that Macrinus had assured us he had sent for. He was overly concerned about our stay in Lugdunum, particularly when Maximus selected some of his Gauls to accompany Justinius to the city, and procure provisions.
“Sir, these men…”
“Will probably be more welcome there, than some of our party,” Maximus finished for him. "They are considered countrymen. We are still intruders, and always will be. Now, do your job, and assist Legate Rufio, while he rearranges the pack order.” Rufio shot Maximus a withering look.
The Gauls seemed happy enough to be away from the ill-tempered Macrinus. The man knew everything about regulation, but little about leadership. Maximus was often unorthodox in his methods, as evidenced by having me paid by the Empire for services to be rendered in the future. Regardless of the way he went about getting things done, they got done, often according to desired results, or better. He would tell me, at one time or another, when I pointed out the differences between his influence on the men, versus that of Macrinus, that rules could be bent, if the principle behind them was not altered.
That was apparent to me, after one argument with the centurion that started over my having delivered a message to him, from the general. He would not accept it from my hand, but motioned for one of his ‘woman-worshipping’ Gauls, as he called them, to take the note. The soldier looked at me apologetically, and I was made to wait for more than an hour in the pouring rain, for Macrinus’ answer.
It was summer, so I knew I would not catch cold, but when I reported to Maximus, he was almost livid. I assured him it was all right, that I was used to that sort of treatment from some men. “That’s not the point, Boadicea. No other would do that to you, knowing you bear my business. It would mean disgrace, whether you are a woman or a man, a slave, or free.”
He gave me a bit of privacy to dry off and change clothes, then called Macrinus to his tent. There was no formality, from Maximus. “You will apologize to my adjutant.”
Macrinus glared at me, openly. “Sir, I merely made her wait. I needed time to formulate my reply.”
“It’s not the waiting that I find fault with, Soldier. It’s the conditions Boadicea had to endure during. She is an auxiliary interpreter, and an envoy from me. You will treat her as you would anyone I send with orders.”
“Must I remind you, General, that women are not to serve in the army?”
“For special reasons, they may. In the station I am taking, after this stay in Germania, she will be needed. Therefore, she goes where I go, so she can earn her wage. She is not a hindrance, and has proved quite useful. Which is more than I can say, for you.”
Macrinus sputtered an empty apology to me, then turned again to Maximus, “Will that be all, Sir?”
“Dismissed, Centurion.” The disciplined Macrinus was said to have taken it out on the slave he had brought with him, beating and cursing the poor man. From the look of the scars on his back, I was sure it was not the first time.
As we trod the road to Lugdunum, I listened to the talk behind me, from the Gauls, concerning Maximus. They liked him. I knew he did not understand their words, but I did. He made the service they rendered easier to give, even if the workload was not always lighter. They had joined the legions, to make money to send home to their families, or whatever reasons, and unfortunately, had ended up in Hispania, serving under men like Macrinus, who treated them as nobodies.
For a few of them, this city was home. Maximus had no way of knowing that, he had taken them to ensure we would be less likely accosted, for matters in Gaul were always uncertain, however Romanized it might be. He gave them leave to acquire what our group would need for the rest of the way, and relax. They all expressed gratitude to him, as they went on their way in groups of twos and threes. We went to visit with Maximus’ friend Tigris.
