Though Antonius' comment at dusk
betrayed frailty, his plan to enlist the locals succeeded Among
their number, three claimed knowledge of secret trails, demonstrating
a willingness to lead. I saw them anxiously observe Varius,
miserable from his reprimand, before one volunteered. Confidently
led, the legion marched east by northeast four days, wandering in the
wilderness the men grumbled, until we sighted a shelter constructed
in the Roman style. From an assembly of tents issued a set of ten
men, all legionnaires. They had reported the barbarian’s movement,
the threat to Rome. This I did not learn from them, for they were
provincials, cultivated by Rome's glory. To oversee them, Rome had
dedicated a man of its loins. With Antonius taking command, I met
privately with Silvanus in his tent.
As we settled into wicker chairs in
his tent, I presented him two bottles of wine, of which he opened one
immediately.
“I've drank nothing so fine in
recently,” he said as he examined the markings, and then poured two
glasses.
“I am glad I serve by reminding an
exiled brother of the joys of Rome.”
“Your visit alone is a blessing, and
I hope you succeed. Five men have died in attempting to observe the
maundering foe.”
“Romans?”
“There's no difference here, where
all serve, and valor is valuable regardless of birth and body. I'd
accept a barbarian into service if he unlearns his manners and
immerses himself in Rome's institutions. One's origin isn't one's
fate. A foreigner may, after proper training, offer more value to
the emperor than myself.”
I brushed angrily at the red stain
spreading across my tunic, its escape from the cup occasioned by
reaction to his insinuation. “The rustic men, loyal though they
be, succeeded in bring us to you, but only after delay. They can not
measure in stature to men of Rome.”
“Offer them duties worthy of
distinction. Time will solve every problem in Rome. Once, Rome was
only a city. Today it is more. Yet we do not name only people born
in Rome, Romans. Neither of us would be Roman by that definition.
The area surrounding Rome, pacified in blood, connected by coin and
road, have copied style and substance if not humor. Someday where we
sit will be settled and civilized. We won't see it then, but I see
it now.”
“The land of my fathers did not
initially swear allegiance to Rome,” I admitted softly.
“And,” Silvanus said, “Rome does
not cultivate proper behaviors. I have visited the expanding
frontiers, my allotted duty, and discovered different cultures could
each offer Rome a transformative revision.”
“You speak as if you are not part of
Rome,” I said. I could see he wasn't looking at me any more. I am
certain he spent hours speaking aloud to unseen phantoms, and no
longer could tell the difference between an imaginary or real
audience.
“Sometimes I am not. I have been
abandoned here in the wild. Do you not perceive?” he said, rising,
with a suddenness that surprised me, “I have become like the crew
of Odysseus in the land of the lotophagi
for I eat only the barbarian food, and have become numb like them.”
He
sat down, a mixture of calmness and agitation, which was strange to
see in a person who only moments ago was in full control of himself.
With fixed determination to erase everything preceding, we discussed
the recent politics of Rome, the quality of the wine, and the
weather. When we had finished the bottle I stood to leave.
“We
will resume our march tomorrow.”
“I
would expect nothing less from a man of duty,” yet I saw a bitter
smile on his lips.
We
abandoned Silvanus the next day, though he must have been glad to see
us go. We intruded on their oasis of imagination. The provincials
in the van, led the legion through forested areas and found a path to
set firmly under our feet. Reinvigorated by the symbol of Rome the
men annticipated the pursuit to come. But on the fourth day since
Silvanus the path vanished in an expansive bog for which our scouts
could discover no path around. I berated the leaders, but remained
unsure how to proceed, and no one wished to offer any suggestions to
me.
“The
bog may be a deterrent to the foe. They've lost themselves, and Rome
needn't apprehend them “said Varius and I sensed his desire to
forgo our mission entirely. He lacked the elemental fire required of
civilized man. The font of Romulus and Remus could kindle it, but
some men lacked the kindling necessary for difficulties of duty,
liberty, and progress.
“We
must continue, but we must have a path,” said Antonius.
I
detested the failures of my consuls, each flimsy and vulnerable,
unable to advance Roman values. I resolved to find a third way. We
bivouacked uncomfortably by the foul sea, but when our scouts failed
to return I yielded to the men, and constructed a proper encampment
beyond the defiling influence of the swamp. Then, a week later, our
mission unconscionably delayed while scouts traveled further afield,
I ordered a return to suffering, to the wait abutting the waste.
Finally, the locals returned, reporting obstacles of such miraculous,
mysterious description they defied disbelief. By some chance of
fate, southern scouts reported an unfordable river, the northern
scouts spoke of a towering, impregnable, impassible mountain range.
It seemed there was no way to continue and I rebuked Varius and
Antonius for their lack of insight.
Without
hope, but full of dignity, I spoke once more to the three local men
who had led us this far. I spoke fiercely to them in imitation of a
tirade. My purpose, to provoke an epiphany. In this I succeeded for
the youngest offered an obvious solution: traverse the marsh.
“Can
it be done?” I asked him.
“It
is possible.”
“Can
you lead us?” I repeated, unsure of his commitment.
He
looked me in the eye and said, “Yes sir, but only if we leave
behind the horses and some supplies.”
“Varius,
Antonius. You're released from all current duties. Complete
whatever assignment this man asks of you,” I said.
It
required only a day as I reclined in my tent. Observing the men
would only have made them nervous and I trusted them to prepare
sufficiently. Then we were marching through the bog with the young
man in the lead. I had promoted him to the highest rank possible, a
tier below Antonius and Varius. He exhibited confidence, continually
testing the solidity of the ground as his friends followed behind,
marking the path for the legion.
Even
with their exceptional skill, men, through lack of diligence,
stumbled into the muck. Only one man was lost, in a vanish act that
seemed supernatural. He fell, and the swamp seemed to absorb his
body instantaneously. We searched for a minute, before continuing
our torturous journey.
Though
the marsh appeared to have no end, either northward or south, we
espied the edge shortly before noon and the men became foolishly
overeager in their desire to reach firm ground. Antonius, just as
relieved, made no effort to contain their enthusiasm. He ordered
lunch would be delayed until the legion was upon the bank of the
marsh. The men became reckless in their effort.
So
it was as half the legion was upon the bank, exhausted and awaiting
their compatriots in the marsh, the enemy attacked.
“Ambush,”
I heard Y, yell foolishly, for that word alone breeds fear rather
than knowledge.
If
it was for my benefit it was useless: I could see enemy.
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