In the Shadow of the Wall (38 page)

The camp housed around three thousand men, although it was capable of holding an entire legion. Some men were permanently out on detachment, others might be building roads, bridges or new buildings while those based in the camp could be out on patrol. The legion was never up to full strength anyway due to illness or to men who died or retired not being replaced straight away.

Brude, as a freedman servant to an officer, was in an unusual position of being one of the few civilians allowed inside the legionary fort. He was, though, subject to military discipline so he was careful not to infringe any rules for he quickly learned that the discipline in the army was extremely harsh. Men were flogged or beaten for even relatively minor misdemeanours.

As legionaries, the soldiers were Roman citizensmen, although not all were from
Italy
. There were men from all over the empire: Hispania,
Africa
,
Syria
and even a handful from Britannia. They served for twenty years plus another five as veterans on light duties. At the end of their service they could expect either a plot of land of their own or, more likely, a cash sum. The soldiers were well paid because the emperor, whose authority relied on the power of the legions to keep him in his exalted position, knew that he had to keep them happy. For the soldiers, though, the life was hard. They trained most days, not the brutal training of the gladiatorial schools that Brude was used to, but almost as hard none the less. These men were professional soldiers. Alone among the nations of the world,
Rome
kept a permanent standing army. While other people would raise an army of conscripts from their farmers in time of need,
Rome
always had thousands of soldiers available. While the warrior elite of German tribes, or even the Pritani of Brude’s homeland, spent their days hunting and feasting, the Roman soldiers trained for war. They were drilled daily by the centurions, not as individuals the way Brude had learned to fight in the arena but as a unit, each man protecting his neighbours, all moving forward at the same time, supporting each other. It was the difference, Brude realised, between being a warrior and being a soldier. The Romans did not play at war. Their tactics were scarcely subtle but they were deadly and effective. “You know what they say,” Lucius told him, one evening after a particularly harsh battle drill. “Our exercises are bloodless battles so that our battles are bloody exercises.”

In addition to the legionaries, the Romans used auxiliaries, men from allied or subject states who were not Roman citizens. In equipment and weapons, they were almost indistinguishable from the legionaries and they were commanded by experienced Roman centurions. The reward for an auxiliary who survived to retirement was full Roman citizenship, so there was rarely a shortage of recruits, even though their pay was not as good as that of the legionaries. The auxiliaries also provided the Roman army with cavalry. There were few of them in the headquarters camp but, in total, Tertius commanded as many auxiliary troops as legionaries.

Brude spent a lot of his time at the infirmary. The Romans had some soldiers who were trained in ways of helping wounded colleagues, and who could give first aid, which might allow the soldiers to survive long enough to be taken to where the surgeons could operate on them. Some of the medical orderlies were veterans who had served their twenty years and were working out their final five years of service before their discharge. But even in times of relative quiet, the infirmary was understaffed, so the surgeons were grateful for Brude’s help, quietly turning a blind eye to his non-military status. He was also able to use the camp’s bathhouse, although only at specific times of the day. It was fairly basic but still enjoyable.

Inevitably, a small town had sprung up around the fort, where the soldiers could find all sorts of goods and services which the camp did not supply. Many of them also had families there. Tehnically, soldiers were not allowed to marry while in service but unofficial marriages and children could not be stopped so the Romans tended to pay no attention, as long as it did not affect discipline. The children, if they were boys, might very well grow up to become soldiers themselves as they rarely knew any other life. For the Romans, a supply of potential recruits was always worthwhile.

Brude was surprised to find that he enjoyed life with the army. The soldiers were hard men who could be difficult to get along with but once they accepted him, he could sense the camaraderie among them. His time in the infirmary made sure that he did get along with them as he always made a point of treating the patients well and sneaking in some extra rations for them when he could.

Lucius, on the contrary, had a hard time at first. Tertius was a tough old man who drove his tribunes hard. Lucius was usually exhausted by the time evening came as he struggled to get to grips with the demands of military life. Still, he soon began to get the hang of things and, thanks to the months of training with Brude, he impressed both his fellow officers and the men with his stamina and his skill with a sword. Now he was learning tactics, logistics and the basics of engineering. Brude learned with him, for the young man would stay awake at nights going over things, using Brude as a sounding board to test his own knowledge. They both learned some new words as well, picking up the odd word or phrase from the native Germans who lived in the town.

They discovered that Tertius was an African, a friend of the emperor from the city of
Lepcis Magna
. The legate often lapsed into his native Punic when he was annoyed, which was quite often. The emperor, being from
Africa
himself, had placed many of his friends and countrymen in positions of authority, because no emperor wanted men he could not trust in charge of large armed forces. Too many emperors had lost their thrones that way in the past.

The province was generally quiet, which suited most of the soldiers. They drilled, they patrolled and they built or repaired buildings and roads but they rarely had any need to fight. Lucius had all summer to learn the ways of the camp and, after a few months, he had grown used to the life. Brude was still trying to read the scrolls Cleon had given him, although he often had to ask Lucius for help with some of the more obscure words. He eventually finished the Iliad and argued with Lucius over who was the better man, Achilles or Hector.

“Achilles was the greatest warrior,” Lucius insisted. “I thought you, as a gladiator, would relate to that.” Like many Romans, he firmly believed that gladiators were fortunate to be able to prove themselves in battle or meet a glorious end trying to win in the arena.

“I can admire the man’s skill,” Brude agreed, “but Hector had a family and was simply trying to protect his home. He still faced Achilles even though he knew he could not win. Achilles never had to be brave because he knew he was invincible. It takes a real man to do a brave thing even though he is afraid.”

Lucius, though, was imbued with the invulnerability of youth. It made Brude feel old in comparison when Lucius hankered after some real action, wanting to emulate Achilles. Brude hoped the young man would live long enough to appreciate the old soldiers’ desire for a quiet life.

The winter brought snow such as Brude had never seen. It piled against the buildings in deep drifts, blanketing the earth in white, which soon turned to a dirty brown and degenerated into a horribly wet slush as the men tramped through it. Lucius had never seen snow at all, except on high mountain peaks. He was at first amazed and delighted with it, then cold and miserable like everyone else, as the winter frosts took a grip.

Tertius, though, drilled the troops whatever the weather. Brude was kept busy as the infirmary filled with men coughing and sneezing, requesting cures the surgeons were unable to provide because nobody could cure a winter chill. Brude caught a cold himself but recovered after a few days in bed, getting up and about just in time to tend Lucius who also succumbed.

The rest gave Brude time to do some more reading. He started on the second batch of scrolls Cleon had given him, the story of the hero Odysseus and his twenty-year journey to return home after the Trojan War. Again Lucius helped him with the reading, as he so often did but, sitting there in the small room with winter gripping the outside world as he read of Odysseus’ homecoming, Brude felt the call of home growing inside him again. Lucius saw that something was bothering him and asked him what it was. “I want to go home,” Brude told him.

“You miss
Rome
so much?” Lucius asked through a sniffle.

“That’s your home,” Brude told him. “I mean my own home in Broch Tava.”

Lucius was amused and alarmed at the same time. “Whatever for? What does your home village have to offer that life in the empire does not have?”

“Friends. Family.” It was the same conversation he had had with Curtius the day after he had won the rudis. Brude could not explain but there was an ache in his belly, the more he thought of Broch Tava. He had been away for so long that it hurt him to think of it. He recalled Curtius’ warnings about going back but the thought was there and it would not go away.

Lucius was not receptive and refused to discuss it any more. He could not conceive of anyone giving up the luxuries of Roman life for the barbarous lands beyond the empire, so Brude was forced to tuck the idea away though he decided to make plans for the journey anyway. He was not sure when he would get the chance to go, but he felt he should be ready if the opportunity arose.

Letters arrived from
Rome
when the first thaw came. Small clay tablets with the characters carefully picked out by small, sharp writing sticks. Lucius read them avidly. “Vipsania is married now,” he told Brude. “She asks for you and so does my stepmother. She says she misses your company when she visits the forum or the baths now.”

Brude had to look away. The last thing he wanted was to get involved in a discussion about Agrippina. “How is Cleon?” he asked, changing the subject as quickly as he could.

“The same as ever. He urges us to keep studying our Homer.”

“That’s no problem,” said Brude, gesturing towards the scrolls.

“I shall write back and tell him how well you are doing,” said Lucius. “Then we shall read some more.”

The winter passed slowly but, in the first months of the new year, while the frosts were still hard and the rain was still threatening to turn to snow, Tertius marshalled his troops and led the better part of two legions eastwards, deep into the forests. Lucius was delighted, excitedly telling Brude, “There’s talk of some tribes raising rebellion. We are off to crush them. We shall show them what it means to defy
Rome
.”

The Romans were organised with an astonishing efficiency. The baggage train was packed, the sacrifices made and auspices taken. When the officiating priests announced that the signs were propitious, the legions were on the march a mere two days after Tertius told his officers what he intended. Lucius, mounted on his finest horse, joined the legate’s staff while Brude tagged along with the medical detachment, helping to load their small wagons with supplies. He wasn’t sure whether he should go with them but he had promised Aquila that he would look after Lucius and nobody told him he couldn’t go, so he looped his gladius over his shoulder and followed the Roman army into war, only too aware of the irony that raised.

Eight thousand legionaries, five thousand auxiliaries and a thousand auxiliary cavalry made the march into the dark forests of
Germania
, accompanied by a horde of supply wagons and a contingent of artillery. There was also a rag-tag group of camp followers, prostitutes and traders, the permanent accompaniment to every army on the march, no matter how much the officers tried to stop them. The army crossed the
Limes
, the frontier line of forts they used to keep watch on the German hinterland, and kept going eastwards, the long column stretching for miles along the narrow an at paths. Brude had heard the legionaries tell stories of how three Roman legions had been destroyed by the Germans, two hundred years before, caught strung out on just such a march through the deep, dark woodland, but Tertius was too canny to be caught in a similar trap. They sent out scouts and used their cavalry to screen their infantry and supply column.

Memories of his long march from Broch Tava came to Brude but this march involved many more men and was far better organised. The Romans, he grudgingly accepted, knew how to wage a war.

Against his expectations, the Germans tried to fight. He was too far to the rear to know much about how it happened but he soon found that the army had deployed along a low ridge overlooking a lightly wooded valley where there was a fortified town. The Germans had mustered several thousand warriors, who were grouped in front of the town. One of the older men in the medical detachment grunted to Brude, “Poor fools. They’ve not caused trouble for near a generation so they don’t know what to expect.” Brude, who had personally experienced the might of
Rome
from the receiving end, felt a pang of sympathy for the Germans.