Legionary Smut

>be me
>Tribune Laticlavius
>that's broad striped Tribune for you non-latinate barbaroi
>basically there are 6 tribunes
>5 are drawn from the upper middle class and are just glorified secretaries with no real power or responsibility
>but us broad striped bros are different.
>from the Senatorial class
>being groomed for high command and eventual command of our own Legion
>sometimes have actual responsibilities like leading a flying column or vexillation on detached duty


>fresh off the cart from Rome
>am told to report directly to my new commanding officer, the Legate of the Legio II Augusta
>enter headquarters tent, directed to Legate's office
>walk in and do my best impression of a legionary salute
>"TRIBUNES LATICLAVIUS ANON reporting for duty legatus Vespassiana"
>legate looks up
>oh sweet vestal virgins she a qt-π
>mid length wavy blonde hair
>deep blue eyes
>kek someone has some Northern blood in them
>gold chased custom curiass
>hnnga I hope those tiddies are as firm and round as the cuirass implies
>she meets my gaze
>by Venus it's like staring into the waters of the Mare Nostrum on a summer day
>a mix of expressions runs across her face
>shock
>amusement
>barely contained laughter
>stoic composure reasserting itself
>"What in the Gods damned..."
>"what in Jupiter's name are you doing here boy"
>I flush with embarrassment and stutter out a reply as I hand her my written orders
>she reads my letter of introduction
>"you're joking"
>"YOU'RE my 2nd in command"
>oh yeah I should probably mention, I've spent most of my life reading philosophy and attending Greek plays at the Palace in Rome
>so I don't exactly have a "military look" about me
>smol_patrician_boy_aesthetic.fresco
>The legate shakes her head sadly
>"What is the Empire coming to"
>with visible annoyance, she confirms my orders as valid and has an orderly enter my name into the Legion records
>when that is finished she hands me a handwritten note with her official seal freshly pressed in wax
>"take this directly to the Primus Pilus (Chief Centurion), she will get you sorted from here"
>Yes ma'am, I say with a final salute
>huh, not how I expected my first day in the Legions to go
>fresco related

>the great thing about Roman Fortresses is that they're all constructed the same so finding the Primus Pilus isn't very hard
>spot the transverse Crest of a centurion's helmet
>jackpot
>Primus Pilus is observing a parade ground drill and occasionally whacking legionairies back into line with a wicked looking vine staff
>notices me approach and turns
>blonde hair cropped short
>why are there so many fucking blondes in the Rhine Legions
>oh right, the Rhine Legions, duh
>light grey eyes
>Centurion's harness
>hips
>oh fuck not another girl
>getting made fun of by one qt a day was already too much
>I walk up and swiftly hand her the Legate's note
>she reads it
>she looks at me
>she reads it again
>looks at me again
>I can tell she wants to say something, but the purple stripe on my tunic makes her check her tongue
>even in the army, mocking a member of the Patrician class as a low born professional was a career ender
>instead she just gives me the most loaded eyebrow raise I've ever seen
>The Centurion seems visibly annoyed as she says
>"alright I'm Primus Pilus Marcella and I've been given the...honor of giving you the rounds and getting you into Legion fighting material. Follow me. Now."
>questioning our destination seemed a poor idea
>I hurried after her and struggled to match her pace, despite being taller by a reasonable amount
>I was quickly led to the quartermaster and equipment was drawn for me from the stores
>being an officer I did not get the standard equipment
>instead of the Lorica Hamata (chainmail) or Segmentata, I was given the cuirass, created helmet, and greaves reserved for officers
>the tunic and cloak were also of higher quality than average
>finally I was given a wooden practice sword and wicker shield
>"hey what gives? Why don't I get a real sword?"
>Centurion looks like she desperately wants choke me, or at least scream for a while, but can't due to rank
>"you get a real sword when you know how to use it. Not before"
>we leave the quartermaster, my arms trembling as I carry the heavy weight of armor, equipment, clothes, and weapons
>led back to the offiercs barracks near the Praetorium
>open the door to my now room
>it's Spartan compared to my home back in Rome but it's still better than the 4 man dorms of the ordinary legionairies
>as I step inside, Marcella says tersely
>"report to headquarters tomorrow morning at dawn"
>the room is plunged into darkness as she forcefully shuts the door, save for the window letting in the dying sun's light
Will things look up from here? Or have I just started the dedcent?
>tapestry related
>I fall asleep almost instantly due to the long days journey
>when I awake, I put on my new uniform (not the armor, we're in a fortress on our side of the Rhine) and report to headquarters
>immediately shown in to Vespassiana's office
>"I will not be approving your position in my Legion at the current time"
>I'm sorry come again
>"ma'am this is a Senatorial appointment. Refusal to obey constitutes tre-" I say indignantly before I'm cut off
>"oh don't get your perfumed silk undergarments in a twist. You'll assume your position in 3 months"
>ok so what happens between now and then?
>"until that happens you will be on administrative leave"
>"in the morning you will report to headquarters and assist me with administrative duties"
>"at mid-day, you will report to the Primus Pilus and she will personally bring you up to the physical standards of the Legion...or..at least something that almost resembles it"
>"due to the dignities that rank affords, you will be trained privately, away from the other recruits"
>"you can imagine how thrilled the Primus Pilus was about that, so expect a brisk workout"
>"another caveat of rank is that it would be inappropriate for her to spar with you during weapons training"
>wait wut why
>"because the Primus Pilus is a low born professional and you are of Senatorial rank. If she bruises your smol patrician boy body in a sparring match and you complain to Rome, it'll end her career"
>"so after she shows you the basics of swordsmanship and close combat, you will report to me for sparring"
Oh boy. Somehow I don't think this is gonna be as fun as the small tent in my tunic suggests

>"Now, I have some supply reports to file with the quester, that should keep you busy for the rest of the morning"
>I take a seat at a smaller desk neatly pushed into the corner and go to work
>I may be underwhelming in other areas, but my upbringing has given me a good grasp of the written word and arithmetic
>for the next several hours, we each work on our tasks silently as the sun slowly ascends to its zenith
>after finishing a report I would occasionally sneak glances at Vespassiana when I thought she wasn't looking
>even when just doing paperwork in a safe fortress, I could see the firm muscles on her arms moving with every stroke of the stylus
>Gods I can only imagine what her legs are like beneath those greaves
>I start day dreaming and only barely manage to avoid getting caught when she looks over my way
>through the rest of the reports I can't stop thinking about those legs

>when midday hits, I give Vespassiana my completed work and leave headquarters to find the Primus Pilus
>Marcella is waiting in front of the Praetorium and she does not look happy
>without even acknowledging me she turns and begins marching down the Via Principalis (main road) towards the gate
>once outside, she turns to me
>"let's go for a run"
>and like that she's off at the trot, and I'm struggling to catch up
>10 minutes pass and we've now left the fortress outskirts and small village clustered around it
>ok getting kinda winded here Primus Pilus
>10 more minutes pass
>alright Marcella plz lets have a short breather
>10 more minutes pass
>holy fuck my side has never hurt so much in my entire life
>steps turn into stumbles
>with a final Herculean effort I pour the last of my energy out
>I will not fail Rome!
>funny thing is, I don't even remember tripping
>1 second I'm jogging down the road, the next I'm sprawled across the stones
>Marcella turns around and stalks towards me not looking even slightly out of breath
>"TRIBUNE ANON GET OFF YOUR PERFUMED PRETTY ASS OR I WILL PUT MY FOOT SO FAR UP IT YOU'LL BE SPITTING HOBNAILS"
>she knows she can't do that because of my rank
>I know it too
>but damn am I still fucking terrified right now
>I drag myself to my to my feet and put one foot in front of the other
>I make it another quarter mile before I collapse again
>we go through this 2 more times before Marcella calls a rest
>I stagger off the road and collapse under a nearby tree

>as I lay on my back panting, a skin filled with watered wine flies over and lands on my stomach, knocking the  little wind I had managed to gather out of me again
>"don't gulp it all at once. You'll just throw it back up in 5 minutes"
>after what felt like only a few seconds but must have been close to 20 minutes, the Primus Pilus pulls me up
>I spend the next few hours doing, or at least trying to do some basic legionary exercises, while Marcella screams encouragement and insults in equal measure
>when I reach muscle failure in one area of my body, the routine is switched and a fresh muscle group is put to the test
>by the time we're ready for the return journey the sun is falling to the west
>the pace is slower, and I manage to stay on my feet for the most of it, but about 3/4 of the way my vision starts going blurry
>with a final step, I pass out
>I don't even feel the impact of the ground, or being lifted off of it several moments later
>I fade in and out of consciousness for the last stretch
>I am briefly stirred when I hear a door open next to me
>the next thing I feel is my body hitting the softness of a straw mattress
>I just briefly catch a glimpse of Marcella closing the door behind her as I black out again

>we got back when the sun was still above the horizon and still several hours before sun down, but I slept through the entire night
>I awoke just before dawn feeling hungrier than a galley slave on a 3 month voyage
>as I got out of bed, nearly every muscle in my body ached and protested
>after a few minutes of stretching I was at least able to walk straight again
>after splashing some cold water on my face from the wash basin and throwing on a fresh tunic, I felt as ready as I ever would be
>stepping outside, my nose and stomach guided me to the mess hall
>Legion fare isn't fancy, but it is hardy and nutritious
>I ate a double portion with some watered wine to wash it down
>sated, I made my way to headquarters to report for the new day
>upon entering the Legate's office, Vespassiana raises an eyebrow sardonically
>"have a nice sleep" she says without humor
>"can't complain ma'am"
>she frowns
>"well I can. You missed our evening appointment"
>oh yeah
>um
>right
>"don't let it happen again"
>anyways....
>morning continues as normal with paperwork bullshit until mid day
>exit the Praetorium and meet up with Marcella
>she's holding a wicker shield and practice sword
>"get your weapons and meet me at the porta Principalis"
>huh I guess she isn't even going to mention what happened yesterday
>10 minutes later we're outside the castra and I'm awkwardly holding my practice sword and shield at my side
>she stands right behind me and moves my arms and legs into the proper stances
>erectus_magnus.bathhouse
>like holy shit I can feel her harness pressing up against my back she's so close
>I catch the faint scent of metal polish, iron, and...something heady I can't quite place
>and like that it's over as she steps back when I'm in the right stance
>I practice stabbing and hacking at the post for the next several hours
>my arms burn like they're on fire but at least I'm not exhausted like yesterday
>"remember a small bit of point is worth more than a whole lot of blade"

>after a while of stabbing and bashing the post, Marcella picks up her own shield and sword
>"Alright Tribune, let's see what you've learned"
>"I want you to attack me and I will defend"
>"If you can get past my guard and land a hit, we're done for the day"
>Shit Primus Pilus that's all you had to say
>I rush forward, if I can overwhelm her early I might be able to put her off balance
>and...I'm on my ass
>this will not be over as quickly as I hoped
>I proceed to attack and get knocked on my ass repeatedly for the next several hours
>she's careful though not to actually hit me or attack due to our difference in rank
>not that I'd do anything if she did, but liability and such
>"keep your shield up" Marcella says as she thrusts my shield down and puts her wooden sword on my neck
>fucking trying this thing is heavy
>"stop crossing your feet" she says as she steps inside my guard and catches me off balance
>I start to tumble to the ground before the Centurion's hand shoots out and catches me
>breathing heavy, I pick up my sword and shield and prepare to attack again
>the primus pilus allows a small smile to tug at the corners of her mouth as I prepare to attack again
>"it's good to see you have spirit, if nothing else"
>just take the backhanded compliment anon, it's the best you'll get right now, I tell myself
>as the sun slips down to the tree line, Marcella says we're done for the day and we part ways at the Praetorium
>hey at least I'm still on my feet this time

>right as I'm turning to the Praetorium building, Vespassiana
>"Legate" I say with a quick salute
>"oh good, you're conscious today. Follow me"
>we move not to the gate or the wrestling ring the legionaries use but instead to the stables where the Legate requisitions 2 horses
>"uhhh where are we going?"
>"it would be improper for the troops to see Patrician officers sparring. We're going to my  private quarters outside the castra where we will not be observed"
>oh k gotcha
>Vespassiana hands the reins of one horse to me and swiftly mounts the other
>now might be a good time to mention I've never read a horse before
>"uhh..."
>understanding dawns on the Legate's face
>"you've got to be kidding me"
>with a sour face and a sigh of resignation, Vespassiana sticks out her and and gestures for me to take it
>I grasp her hand and pull myself up onto her horse, sitting directly behind her
>oh sweet Venus I was not ready for this
>put my hands around her waist as she kicks her heels into the horses flanks and
>this saddle was not meant for 2 people so I'm pressed into Vespassiana's back, so close that I can smell the scented oils in her hair
>we ride out the Porta Decumana (back gate) to draw less attention
>thankfully most legionaries are either off doing other shit or don't care enough to notice a horse with 2 riders leaving the back gate
>the ride to Vespassiana's villa seemed to both last forever and be over far too soon
>as we dismounted, I felt a pang of sadness at the loss of physical closeness that was still fresh in my mind
>if ever there was an incentive never to learn how to ride a horse, that was it
>inside we are greeted by the Legate's Major Domo (head butler more or less) as we make our way to the central courtyard
>once there, Vespassiana moves to a small square of sand set off in one corner of the yard
>"we'll start your training with unarmed combat, and build from there. What do you know of wrestling?"
>"I watched some matches in Rome once but I have never had any personal experience"
>"that changes today" Vespassiana says as she unstraps her cuirass and greaves
>she then unclasps her cloak and throws it to the side
>then she grabs the hem of her tunic and pulls it over her head before throwing that to the side as well
>I stand there momentarily stunned as the Legate stands there in only undergarments
>"well don't just stand there. Take your tunic off and get ready. You didn't expect to wrestle with it on did you?"


>reluctantly, I slide my tunic over my head and throw it to the side
>we face each other, clad only in the wool undergarments popular with the Rhine Legions
> "let's begin. If you throw any punches I'll have you flogged"
>alright no pressure, just advance slowly and steadily and
>I'm pinned on the ground
>this is gonna be a long night
>every few rounds Vespassiana switches between instructing me on proper stance and attack form and then showing me how I fucked up by pinning me to the ground
>I'm gonna be covered in bruises tomorrow
>now some of you might think that being repeatedly pinned by your qt-π commanding officer would be somehow hot or arousing
>you would be right, it absolutely was
>only the effort of getting constantly thrown down and getting back up stopped my gladius (infantry short sword) from turning into a Spatha (cavalry long sword)
>after several hours I felt no more competent than when I had arrived, except my pride was now wounded, possibly beyond repair
>"good effort anon but you overextended again"
>after this particular round Vespassiana had me pinned in a triangle hold and was holding my head in a lock with her thighs
>"Mhmmhm uh huh" I try to mumble
>Jupiter Optimus Maximus it's like being sandwiched between 2 bars of warm flexing iron
>although there is also a suspicious third source of heat as well
>I think I might pass out, and not from anything caused by wrestling if you understand my rhetoric
>we go a few more rounds but my head is in the clouds for the rest of it

>seeing this but mistaking it for exhaustion, Vespassiana calls the last round
>we both move over to a low table in a different part of the courtyard where 2 cups and a small decanter of wine had been placed
>we each take our seats, and Vespassiana fills the 2 cups before setting 1 in front of me
>we sit regarding each other for a moment
>both of us are breathing hard, but I'm obviously more tired than her
>the torchlight mounted in the brazier reflects the the thin glistening sheen of sweat that gathered on us in the warm and humid night Gaulish
>I can feel my hair sticking to my head, and judging by the blonde hair plastered to her's Vespassiana can feel the same thing
>"that wasn't the best performance I've seen, but you show spirit and and drive. That counts for something"
>"thank you Legate. I am determined to succeed as an officer of Rome"
>Vespassiana cracks a wry smile
>"determination is necessary, but we shall see if it is enough"
>the sun had long set by this time and crickets could be heard in the distance
>"it's too late to walk back to the fortress, and I do not wish to ride out again. I will have my Major Domo prepare a guest room for you to stay in tonight"
>"thank you Legate.  You are very kind"
>with that I am escorted to the guest room by the major domo, as Vespassiana retires to her own quarters for the night
>the image of her walking away, bare muscles thighs and back flexing as she moved, would stay with me the whole night

>with a routine established, the next several weeks blended together in one long stream of bruises, swords, and thighs
>the mornings were boring, the afternoons were almost torture, but the day was redeemed by the evening
>I was still getting my posterior kicked mercilessly by Vespassiana each night in the wrestling ring, but I felt like I was learning something at least
>and no matter how badly I lost, any day where I got to take a trip between those thighs was a good day
>even if it was only to be put in a triangle choke
>the paperwork, while boring, gave me a good introduction to the Legion's structure and its important people
>By the end of my 2nd week, I knew the names of all the Pilus Priorii (Cohort Commanders for the 2nd-10th Cohorts) as well as the Praefectus Castrorum (Camp Prefect), whom I worked with frequently on supply issues
>their contempt for my lack of physical prowess was tempered by my talent for administrative matters, much to their surprise and my smug satisfaction
>the mid day physical training never got any easier though
>just when I was starting to feel like the daily workouts were manageable, Marcella would throw on an extra layer and I'd be panting on the ground again
>by the end of my 2nd week my stamina had markedly improved, so to keep me from getting too comfortable, she decided that from now on, daily training would be undertaken in full armor
>and we're back to square one
>it didn't help that I had never worn my armor before and didn't know how all the buckles and straps fit together
>with a sigh of exasperation, Marcella had strode over and demonstrated the proper way to attach the cuirass, greaves, and other bits of equipment
>and by demonstrated, I mean she pressed me up against a tree and attached each piece while explaining how the buckles and straps worked

>when she attached the belt, her arms wrapped around my waist and pulled me to her so close I could feel her heartbeat and her breath on my ear as she talked
>What she actually said was lost to history, as I was too focused on all the sensations running through me at the moment to do anything but nod along
>Marcella then reaches around and begins tightening all the straps and double checking that everything is in place
>wait is it just me or is she now intentionally breathing directly onto my neck
>I want to ask but I don't want it to end
>and then it ends, and we're back to the exhausting exercise
>I was still pondering those events as I made my way to the stable
>Vespassiana is already there and waiting with the horse
>wait, this time she has 2 horses
>oh no
>not today
>I don't want to learn to ride today
>please Venus just give me one more day of sweet double riding
>one more day to hang on to Vespassiana as we ride to her quarters
>one more day to be pressed into her back by the saddle
>one more day to feel smell her hair and feel her heartbeat from below her cuirass
>alas it was not to be
>for the next 30 minutes I'm put through the basics of riding as we make our way out of the fortress
>to say I was grumpy about it would be an understatement
>but I begrudgingly had to admit the skill was useful to know for when we actually went on campaign
>I perked up again when we finally arrived at the imminent prospect of some scantily clad grappling
>10 minutes later and I was once again locked between Vespassiana's thighs
>ah home sweet home
>I was growing more and more familiar with that heady mix of sweat, scented bathing oils, and something….else that I couldn't place
>and that would prove to be my undoing
>so lost was I in my reverie that I let all the sensations go to my head
>no, my other head
>”anon are you paying attention”
>”huh I wuh?”
>noticing my day dreaming, Vespassian very suddenly flips me over so that she is straddling my face with her legs
>I am too dazed to even attempt a counter
>”are you paying attention now TRIBUNIS ANON?”
>I try to reply but my reply is muffled by the thighs, and what's in between them, that is currently covering my face
>I am not even going to think about what my nose is pressing into for fear of losing control entirely
>dear Pluto, lord of the underworld, I do not know what virtuous act I have done in my life but I thank thee for granting me passage to Elysium
>I hardly even notice that I can't breathe
>and then, as soon as it happened, it ended, and I lay there panting on the sand
>”well Tribune, are you ready to focus now?”
>the rest of the wrestling practice passes in a blur and I am still too shaken by the end of it to remember my own name
>as we sit at the low table across the courtyard, breathing hard and covered in sweat as always, Vespassiana regards me with an unreadable expression
>”I trust now you will pay better attention when we spar”
>I nod my head emphatically
>Vespassiana gives a light laugh
>”I trust you now know what will happen if you lapse in concentration”
>I don't think this is as much of a punishment as you think it is but whatever
>”I see the Primus Pilus's lessons appear to be working at least”
>I blush at the naked appraisal
>while it is true that I could still be accurately called scrawny, the constant physical training was beginning to bear fruit, and I was proud that the Legate had noticed
>after we finished the last of the wine, I made my way to the guest room that I was becoming a regular occupant of
>I fell asleep dreaming of being buried between Vespassiana's thighs
>only in my dream we were both as naked as Olympians

>the next morning I woke with a start at being shaken awake
> Vespassiana is there standing over me, fully dressed in her Legate attire
>”time for work already?” I mumble
>”not today Tribune. We've been doing paperwork for 2 weeks straight. It's time for a break.”
>I look down and notice the calfskin riding boots Vespassiana is wearing
>now that I got the basics of riding down, the thought of a morning ride actually seems kind of fun
>within the hour we're both riding away from the domus, but this time we're going away from the fort rather than towards it
>I'm clumsy, my reflexes are all wrong, and my movements are slow, but it's still a lot of fun
>we come to a flat field and without warning Vespassiana kicks her horse into a gallop and shoots past me with a laugh
>I vainly try to catch up
>she looks back at me, blonde hair streaming in the wind, and it hits me that this is the first time I've ever seen her smile or laugh
>I'd seen the small satisfied smile or the light amused chuckle before, but this was the first time I had ever seen them come from true happiness, unrestrained or guarded behind a stoic composure
>I catch up to her and we enter a small copse of trees
>the breeze is gently blowing leaves across the sun dappled floor, and bird song fills the air
>the ambience is so nice that I hardly notice when we exit the trees, until I am faced with the sloping bank of a mighty river
>I pull my horse up alongside Vespassiana
>”is that…”
>”Yes. The Rhine river. The frontier.”
>the trees on the far bank stare back at us, somehow more foreboding and silent than before
>after a moment longer, we each turn away from the border of the civilized world
>after another hour of riding we stop on top of a small wooded hill where Vespassiana retrieves some dried meat, cheese, and a skin of wine from her saddlebags
>for the first time ever, we just sit and talk
>not about training, or logistics, or anything like that, but just talk
>and drink
>which is probably why we nearly miss the hoofbeats when they start sounding in the distance
>Vespassiana stops talking mid sentence, furrowing her brow to listen
>when it is clear that the sound belongs to horses, and several dozen at least, she anxiously looks over to me and motions for me to mount up
>”it's probably just a Ala from one of the Auxilia cohorts on patrol, but we’d better be safe”
>then we hear a shouted command from one of the riders and we both freeze
>the reply confirms our worst suspicions, Germans have crossed the Rhine in force
>we scramble to our horses and climb quickly into the saddles
>I am suddenly keenly aware of my lack of horsing experience
>we kick our heels into their flanks and make for the fortress at a trot
>a few minutes later we hear a shout, followed by a horn and the whoops of German riders
>and that is our signal to haul ass
>we kick our horses into a full gallop, but I can’t shake the feeling that it’s a futile gesture
>I can hear the hoofbeats getting closer and closer, and I chance a glance behind me and see the German horsemen gaining rapidly on us
>I know Vespassiana could ride faster if she wanted to, and is just sticking around for me
>”GO, GO” I gesture for her to ride off, but she refuses with an emphatic shake of her head
>well if we can’t fly, it’s time to fight
>I draw my sword and prepare to fight
>nah jk I don’t have a sword remember
>Vespassiana facepalms
>the Germans are now less than 100 meters away
>we hear the warhorn again
>it sounds different this time
>wait that's not a German warhorn, that’s Roman Cornu
>off about 60 degrees to our right an Ala of Legionary cavalry burst through the trees, swords drawn and red cloaks billowing
>the Germans try to turn their horses around but our boys are faster
>as the two opposing forces crash together, its apparent we have the advantage of both momentum and numbers
>by the time we’ve ridden over to them, the Germans are either dead or running
>Vespassiana thanks the Decurion of the cavalry squadron on our behalf and promises him a phalera in reward, to which he returns a crisp mounted salute
>”the base is not far. We’ll ride the rest of the way while you take your Ala and comb the area for any more raiders”
>the Decurion begins to turn, but before he can I intervene
>”pardon Legate, but I don’t think those were raiders”
>Vespassiana regards me cooly
>”well then Tribune please share your hypothesis with the rest of us”
>the threat of “if you’re wrong I’m going to make you pay” was also implied
>”Look at their horses and dress. They have no saddlebags. No  means of carrying off loot or plunder. I believe these aren’t looters, they’re scouts”
>Vespassiana’s eyes widen almost imperceptibly before returning to normal
>”Decurion, follow us back to the Castra, and send your fastest rider ahead to raise the alarm”

>by the time we got back to the fortress, everything was a flurry of activity as the Legion was prepared for action
>inside the Headquarters were Marcella and the Camp Prefect, a grizzled old veteran named Felix
>plans were quickly made to determine whether this group was an isolated band or part of a larger operating force
>scouts were sent out along with some messengers to the local auxiliary cohorts, but it was ruled that for now it would be safer if everyone stayed within their fortifications for the time being
>after all preparations were made and done, the camp returned to a sense of normalcy, but with the heightened tension of being ready to march at any time
>as I leave the Praetorium, I see Marcella standing off to the side waiting for me
>”given today’s events, I’d say you should start carrying a real sword from now on”
>oh gee willikers
>”you think I’m ready, Primus Pilus?”
>Marcella sighs
>”No, but that’s not really relevant anymore is it. But even if you can’t use it worth shit, you can at least cut your own throat before they catch you.”
>at my horrified look, she nods gravely
>”it’s better than being captured, believe me”
>a sombre silence begins, until Marcella breaks it by wrapping an arm around me and forcefully guiding me to the drill area
>”so best you learn how to use that thing properly so that doesn’t happen”
>and with that, I pick up my now well known friends the wicker shield and wooden sword, twice as heavy as the real things, and prepare to spar
>I’ve been getting better, not falling for obvious feints, not tripping over my own feet as much, and occasionally putting up some competent attacks
>not that it matters much against close to a decade of actual combat experience
>as we fight, I notice Marcella making more and more use of her body to push, shove, or otherwise get physically close to me whenever she can
>by the fifth round, my arm is screaming in protest from holding the heavy shield, but I’m unwilling to drop it and give her an opening
>finally after blocking yet another barrage of hits, my arm gives out and my shield drops
>with her shield, she knocks my sword from my hand and with her sword she forces my shield aside
>I back up but find myself pressed against a tree
>with nowhere left to turn and totally disarmed, I stare into Marcella’s eyes as she continues to inch closer
>she drops her own sword and shield and holds my hands above my head against the tree
>the air is so quiet I could hear a pin drop
>I am now completely pinned, and her face is mere inches from mine, so close I can feel her warm breath and beating heart
>then she leans over to my ear and whispers something I will never forget as long as I live
>”no one will believe you if you tell them”
>in my moment of total confusion, she suddenly moves forward and plants her mouth onto mine
>I try to utter a sound of protest but she just uses the opportunity to aggressively force her tongue into my mouth
>for several moments I fight in vain against her superior position before I simply give in
>sensing her total victory, Marcella closes the remaining gap between us and presses her body against mine, chainmail harness jingling against my cuirass as my hands are still held tightly above my head
>for several seconds I can do nothing but just accept what is happening, although an involuntary moan may have escaped when she did something particularly rough
>then she breaks off the kiss and hovers her face a hair’s breadth away from me
>I am too dazed to even remember my own name at this point
>she then whispers in my ear
>”we’re done for the day. Now hurry along, you don’t want to keep the Legate waiting”
>and with that she steps back and releases me
>my legs had turned to jelly and I simply slid down the tree until I was sitting at its base
>with a smug grin, Marcella turns and walks away
>”until tomorrow Tribune” she says over her shoulder
>”uhm uah yah morrow” I mumble

>to my dismay, wrestling with Vespassiana was temporarily put on hold while the more pressing situation of the Legion was at hand
>to compensate, we would ride out each morning and practice horseback riding
>staying within sight of the base for obvious reasons
>it was fun, not in the same way as wrestling, but a nice change of pace
>oh and I finally got a real sword
>not gonna lie it feels pretty nice to feel it swinging by your hip whenever you move
>but whenever I thought about it, my thoughts inevitably turned to the day i got it, and the training with the Primus Pilus
>Marcella for her part had shown up the next day and pretended like nothing at all had happened
>it was both infuriating and nerve wracking but there was nothing I could do about it so I put it out of my mind
>she was still super touchy during training though
>for the next week the base fell into the uneasy routine of “business as normal but prepared to spring to action at any time” as the scouts combed the countryside
>during that time I kept up on my training and started seeing some noticeable gains
>Marcella even remarked one day that she now believed I was capable of defeating a raw recruit in single combat...if I got him drunk first
>Vespassiana was more subdued but admitted I was starting to almost look like a soldier

>the next day at in the Praetorium doing my morning work as always
>scout comes rushing in, salutes and hands a wax tablet to Vespassiana
>she reads it, then snaps it closed with a sigh
>I give a quizzical look
>”they found the German force. On the other side of the Rhine.”
>oh
>”once they realized we were alerted to their actions they retreated back across the river”
>well that was a wasted week
>whatever, at least shit can return to normal now
>that night we slowly walk our horses to Vespassiana's domus
>the night is warm and we chat casually as we make the short trip the fort
>over the weeks I've grown closer to Vespassiana, and even though she won't admit it, I think she is grateful to have someone from her own social class to talk to
>it is lonely at the top
>after a run of sparring that leaves us both exhausted, we retire to the Triclinium (small courtyard with a pool in the center) to sit and wind down
>as we are finishing the last of the wine, an excellent Falernian from Italy by the way, when Vespassiana's Majordomo comes in
>”apologies my lady, but the guest room is unfortunately unavailable tonight. There was a leak in the ceiling during the rain shower last week. The room is soaked and will take several days to dry out”
>oof and that's one ride back to the base in pitch darkness for Tribune Anon
>”pay it no mind. We will make alternative arrangements” Vespassiana says cryptically
>the Majordomo quirks an eyebrow but says no more before bowing and leaving
>when the last of the wine is finished, Vespassiana stands up and motions for me to follow with a single word
>”come”
>I follow her with barely contained curiosity
>please don't be leading me to the stables
>we arrive outside a set of double doors, which Vespassiana pushes open into a well furnished bed chamber
>I am just standing there dumbstruck as she climbs into the bed
>”well don't just stand there gawking Tribune, get in”
>sweet Venus is this it
>am I in Elysium
>there's no way this is happening
>but it is
>with weak legs I make my way over to the bed and climb in next to Vespassiana
>I feel a tickle next to my ear and soon a whisper
>”if you try anything I'll have you crucified”
>”Yes Legatus”
>”oh and look, my Majordomo brought an extra wine skin”
>I look over and sure enough on a bedside table is a fresh wineskin and 2 glasses if we chose to use them
>but we're already horizontal and drinking from cups in that position is a pain in the posterior so Vespassiana just takes the whole skin, uncorked it, takes a drink, and passes it to me as she lays back on the pillow
>for the next hour, we share the wine and talk in low voices, becoming progressively lighter as the wine worked its magic
>working up my courage, and praying this doesn't cross over into crucifixion territory,I slide over and lay my head in the crook of Vespassiana's shoulder
>after a moment of pause, she reciprocates and we the tension I had been holding is finally released
>we move closer together and I lay my head on her chest
>we finish off the last of the wine and begin to fall asleep
>just as unconsciousness overtakes me, I feel a soft pair of lips on my own
>or maybe I just dreamed of them, I cannot be sure
>the only thing I am sure of was that I fell asleep listening to Vespassiana's slow, steady heartbeat

>I awake to the sounds of birdsong through the open window
>somehow I'm pressed into something warm and soft, and also softly pulsing
>I also appear to be unable to move
>oh right now I remember where I am
>judging by the level of light in the room, it's just before sunrise
>we're not expected back at base for several more hours so I think I'm gonna just enjoy my present situation
>not that I have much choice, Vespassiana's arms are holding me pretty tight
>I don't know how long I just lay there, but all good things must come to an end and soon I feel my Commander stir
>”so did I manage to dodge crucifixion”
>Vespassiana raises an eyebrow
>”for now”, she says in a half joking but also half serious way

>an hour later and we're back to work in the Praetorium
>as I'm idly chewing on a piece of cheese and bread, a rider comes and makes a report to the Legate
>what catches my eye is that this rider is a local, not one of ours
>probably from one of the German villages on our side of the Rhine
>I try to overhear the conversation but his thick Latin accent isn't making it easy
>when he is finished, the Legate calls an orderly to summon the Primus Pilus and the Decurion of one of the Legionary Cavalry Squadrons
>when they arrive we all move from the executive office to the adjacent briefing room
>by this point my curiosity is nearly unbearable
>”A rider from one of the local villages has just lodged a petition with Rome.”
>”one of the nearby German villages is complaining that they have had some of their cattle and other livestock stolen by the next village over”
>”this village also frequently sells supplies to the Legion, so we have a practical and legal prerogative to resolve this dispute”
>”Tribune Anon”
>I start when I hear my name, not expecting to do more than observe the proceedings
>”you will lead a vexillation of 1 cohort and cavalry squadron to the offending village. Take back the stolen property and give the village chief a stern warning”
>at this, the Primus Pilus raises her hand
>”with respect Legate, is this much force really necessary to deal with some local pig farmers? That's 830 soldiers going to a village that can't possibly have more than 2000 souls living in it. Is there more to this than was let on?”
>Vespassiana inclines her head to Marcella
>”You are correct Primus Pilus, there is more to this. While I can not say more at this time, changes are coming and this little exercise should help prepare the 1st Cohort prepare for them”
>she then shifts her tone to address the entire room
>”we're not going to be in this fortress forever. I'd like you all keep that in your minds”
>hm cryptic
>but I have more pressing matters to think about than the Legate's riddles
>I've been given my first independent command

>several hours later, I leave the fortress at the head of 830 men, riding east towards the Rhine
>for the first 30 minutes, I am filled with nervous excitement, much to the amusement of the Primus Pilus
>slowly the excitement gives way to anxiety as we enter the eaves of a broad forest
>Roman heavy infantry has never faired well in confined spaces
>the memory of Varus and his 3 lost Legions is fresh in the minds of every Legionary today
>strung out in our marching column, the troops look uneasily at the shadowed undergrowth to the side of the road
>even Marcella looks uneasy in the close confines of the forest road
>an ambush right now would be catastrophic
>but slowly the trees thin out and we emerge from the woods
>back on open ground, the column breathes a sigh of relief
>as we crest a nearby ridge, the accused village comes into view
>it was...not quite what I expected
>having grown up in Rome, I expected the German villages to be nothing more than a few filthy mud huts huddling behind some sharpened stakes
>but the village that greeted us was actually surprisingly large and well maintained, at least by my eyes
>there was no central plan, but several dozen buildings with thatched roofs clustered around a central plaza and a more elaborate wooden building that was obviously the seat of the local lord
>surrounding the village was a well maintained palisade of wooden stakes and earthen ramparts that would pose an adequate deterrent to raiders or brigands
>at either side of the village, roughly East and West, two gates stood guarded by some basic watchtowers
>as we approached the village from the West, the nearest gate swung open to admit us
>alright let's get this over with

>for what felt like the hundredth time, I repeated myself in slow, deliberate Latin
>the woman standing across from me gave another confused shake of her head as if she didn't understand what I wanted
>when we approached the central plaza, she had emerged from the Chief's hall claiming to be his wife and speak on his behalf
>when asked where the chief was she had said he was out hunting
>her Latin was surprisingly passable, thickly accented but not impossible to understand
>yet now she was having trouble grasping basic sentences
>despite her attempt to conceal it, it was clear that she understood what I was saying but was intentionally playing dumb to stonewall me
>I sigh and sit back in the saddle to think about how best to approach the situation
>most of the troops are watching the proceedings with barely contained boredom as they rested in small groups around the square
>seemed cruel to make them stand at attention for the whole negotiation, so with the exception of a guard century stationed around the perimeter of the square, the troops were resting on their packs for the time being
>as I'm thinking, an annoyed Marcella comes up to me
>”Tribune Anon can we just take the stolen animals and go. We don't have time for this”
>”I understand your frustration Primus Pilus, believe me. But this situation requires a more...diplomatic approach if we want to avoid alienating the local tribes. That's why I'm here”
>Marcella sighs and turns to walk away when a deep horn blast sounds from the ridge
>”that's one of ours...right”

>I know the answer to my question even before the German army crests the ridge
>and directly in the path of our line of retreat back to the Legion
>there's nothing for it, we'll have to make a stand here in the village where we at least have the benefit of the palisade wall
>as the Germans begin to pour down the slope towards the town, I see a group of villagers run to the gatehouses on either end of the town and throw them open
>fuck me
>Marcella sees them too
>quickly balling out orders, she orders the cavalry squadron to ride hard for the Legion, then takes 2 centuries to secure the East Gate and I take 2 to secure the West
>the cavalry squadron wastes no time in remounting and booking it out the far gate
>fucking assholes, at least *look* sorry to be leaving us
>as the horsemen belt up the hill, we see a small group of German horsemen break off and begin a pursuit
>I take my men and reach the gate just in time and massacre the dozen or so Germans trying to hold it open for their friends outside the walls
>what do you expect they're untrained villagers trying to hold a gate against professional heavy infantry
>just as we throw down the thick timber locking bar the gate shudders with impact as the men outside slam against the gate
>with the enemy clustered so nicely in front of us, they make a perfect target for our Javelins
>"Centurion, give them a taste of our pila"
>moments later, the area in front of the gate is filled with screams as Javelins are rained down from the ramparts
>wearing only minimal, if any armor and light shields, the Germans fall by their dozens, and then by their hundreds, impaled on the heavy iron shafts
>the Germans warily retreat to beyond our range but do not fully withdraw
>after a few minutes its clear they're forming work parties and constructing some ad hoc siege equipment
>we can only watch silently from the walls as ladders are lashed together and a great tree trunk is stripped of its branches and made into a ram
>while the barbarians prepare outside, the Legionaries have gathered stones, roof tiles, and anything else that can be thrown on top of the palisade to supplement their pila

>the 2 Centurions stand in the watchtower conversing quietly and occasionally pointing something out in the German lines
>I think their names were Titus and Flavius if I was recalling correctly
>both men of exemplary character and service records stretching back a decade
>but that could be said for all the Centurions of the 1st cohort
>commanding double strength Centuries of 160 men, the Centurions of the first, or "primi ordines" were the shock troops of the Legion
>first into any assault, and always deployed where the fighting was thickest, a spot in the 1st cohort was nonetheless highly coveted for the prestige it offered and the substantially increased pay for legionaries and Centurions alike
>losing the entire first cohort in a minor engagement would cripple a Legion, and ensure it was relegated to guarding baggage trains on any campaign to come
>"how's it looking" I say to announce myself
>the Centurions turn
>"not good" says Flavius
>"what are our odds?"
>Flavius pauses and thinks for a moment before responding
>"bad sir. But not hopeless. The germans will overrun us eventually. Nothing we can do about that. But if our cavalry makes it back to the Legion then they'll come quick marching to relieve us. Even if they're driven down and killed, we're expected back to the fort before nightfall. If we're not back, the alarm will be raised, and Gods willing Vespassiana will bring the rest of the 2nd here to rescue us"
>hmm that's a whole lot of fucking ifs
>"so it's a waiting game then Centurion? We have to hold out until we're missed and hope the rest get here in time?"
>Flavius nods in affirmation, before glancing out towards the Germans
>"that's right sir. Only I don't expect that lot to let us do much waiting"
>looking out towards the setting sun, I see that the enemy have finished their equipment and were preparing to assault
>as the Germans form up for the attack, Centurion Titus forms his century and half of Flavius’ up on the wall while Flavius takes the remaining half century to guard the gate

>I position myself in the watchtower next to the gate,giving myself a good view of both wall and gate and within earshot of each Centurion
>from the German line there is a braying of war horns and the barbarians surge forward towards the palisade and gate, ladders and ram leading the way
>from the walls, I hear Titus give the order to release javelins and the air is filled with screams as the Germans are impaled by the long heavy shafts
>nevertheless, the ladders still reach the walls and soon warriors are clambering over the ramparts
>while the fight on the walls rages, I am thrown off balance suddenly as a boom sounds from the gate below
>and that would be the ram making first contact
>as the ram hits again, I see splinters fly off the locking bar, and an unlucky legionary grabs his cheek as a thin line of blood wells up from a new cut
>looking along the wall, I see the Germans are getting the worst of the fighting and more than one ladder has already been pushed over
>in the tight confines of the ramparts, the Germans are unable to effectively use their unwieldy spears and longswords or make use of their individualistic fighting style, while the tight formation and nimble short swords of the Legionaries thrive
>but all that will be for nothing if they break down the gate
>the gateway is too wide and takes too many men to defend; if it breaks they’ll be able to spread us thin and overwhelm us by assaulting at more points than we can defend
>the gate shakes again and larger pieces of wood splinter off
>looking around frantically for something to even the odds, my eyes are drawn to the still smoking chimney stacks of the German townspeople
>an-idea-is-born.mosaic
>I rush down the tower to meet Centurion Flavius at the gate and outline my plan
>he thinks for a moment, brow furrowed, then gives me a grin and calls over his Optio
>soon enough teams of 4 are dispatched through the houses, soon returning with a shield carried between them loaded full of red hot coals
>it isn’t Greek Fire, but it will do
>at the signal, the men holding the shields dump their cargo over the walls and onto the heads of the men manning the ram
>within moments the Germans break and run from the gate, leaving their screaming, burning comrades to their fate
>along the walls the attackers lose heart as well and those that cannot clamber over the side are killed where the stand
>our men let out a cheer along the wall as they watch the ram, now surrounded by coals start to burn
>for a moment I let the feeling of triumph wash over me
>then smoke starts rising from the bottom of the gate itself
>this is quickly followed by flames that eagerly lick at the aged oak timbers
>we watch in horror as the hungry flames quickly spread
>the men on the walls are quickly ordered back as the entire palisade is consumed in flames
>hmmm
>fuck


>"OFFICERS TO ME"
>Flavius and Titus come jogging up, crested helmets bobbing over their men
>after a moment of silence I begin speaking cautiously
>"well...I will admit that did not go exactly as I had anticipated"
>Titus and Flavius share a glance before letting out a short burst of laughter
>"Well I should fucking say not" Flavius says without humor
>Titus just nods and raises an eyebrow
>"well what's done is done. How do we move forward now"
>both officers stop and think for a moment, occasionally looking out over the town towards the square
>finally Titus speaks
>”the fire will prevent them from coming over for a few more hours. We should use the time to retreat down the main street to the center of town. Collapse buildings to block the side streets and create a firebreak. Then we make our stand at the city square.”
>”and then what?” I ask, already knowing the answer
>”We holdout until we are relieved, or overrun”
>well whatever, wasn’t like our odds were that high to begin with
>”Well then see to it gentlemen, I’ll take a half Century and do what I can to fortify the square
>with that we part ways, quick marching to our designated jobs
>as I reach the town center I hear the sounds of buildings collapsing over the side streets
>the main street we have chosen to defend is wide by Germanic village standards, wide enough for 7 men to march abreast
>I begin by dispatching men to the nearest houses and tearing them apart for their wood and other sturdy materials
>with those we begin building a breastwork and fighting platform stretching across the street with a small opening for our own men to pass through
>we had just begun digging a trench in front of the breastwork when I notice something wrong at the burning gate
>the flames seem much lower than they should be and wisps of steam are curling up from the gate
>the flames part for a moment and the mystery becomes clear
>the Germans have created a bucket chain from the river to extinguish the fire faster
>shit and half of our men are spread around the town collapsing buildings
>if the Germans get in and cut them off, they'll be cut down posthaste
>”CORNICEN TO ME ON THE DOUBLE”

>the cohort’s horn blower comes trotting over from the reserve party in the center of the square, panting under the weight of his heavy instrument
>”sound the recall at double time, now!”
>in a moment, the clear brassy notes of the recall signal are ringing out over the village
>as if in recognition of its meaning, the Germans pick up the pace with the bucket train and the fire diminishes further
>After a few minutes Titus and Falvius come jogging into view at the head of their men, with equipment jingling and covered in black soot from the raging fire
>”we did what we could sir. With Fortuna’s blessing it will be enough”
>”Good work Centurion Flavius. Both of you take your men back and give them as much rest as possible before the final push”
>the Centurions smartly salute and lead their men through the fortifications and into the square
>once there the men collapse and begin taking deep draughts from their canteens, clearly exhausted and dehydrated from their hot demolition work
>at the other end of the square Marcella and her men come quick marching into the square and form up
>”well this is a fine little bonfire you’ve got here anon”
>yeah...heh..heh heh about that
>I quickly bring Marcella up to speed on the current situation on my side of town
>”hmm sounds like your getting the brunt of it then. The Germans were content to harass our side with just enough men to prevent us from reinforcing the other side of town.”
>”well nothing to do now but rest and wait for the final push. I’ll have some men set up a triage for the injured inside the main hall. If we get forced back that will be where we’ll end things.”
>with everyone accounted for and all preparations complete, the cohort settled into an uneasy silence punctuated by the low conversations of the men
>though the fire at the gate was dying down with assistance from the Germans, the flames on the walls quickly spread to the nearest houses
>within the hour large portions of the town were engulfed in flames that cast an eerie orange glow over the town square
>the men sat in silence as the flames lit up the night sky and sent plumes of embers into the inky blackness above, conversation drowned out by the roar of the fire
>eventually another sound pierces the roar of the inferno
>War Horns


>not the high brassy notes of Legion Cornicens, but the low blasts of Germania
>all eyes turn towards the steaming and very much extinguished gate as the first of the German warriors cautiously crept through
>seeing that the way was clear, they let out a throaty roar and poured through the gate, surging down the street like a tide of flesh and steel
>Marcella's voice rises high above the din
>"HERE THEY COME BOYS TO THE DEFENSES"
>Marcella's Centuries and the one kept in reserve, which were not fatigued from the heavy fighting on the Western Wall or the hasty demolition work in the burning town, moved up first to defend the barricade
>I deployed a half Century to watch the other entrances into the square and kept one and a half full Century in reserve ready to reinforce any potential breakthroughs
>like all Centurions, Marcella led from the front, taking her position at the center front rank of the formation
>as the Germans moved down the fire lit streets, the first Century readied their Javelins, long iron points gleaming in the light
>when the Germans were about 25 meters away, Marcella shouted the order to release
>a forest of wooden shafts and long steel shanks rose in a shallow arc, hanging for a moment at their apex before plunging down into the German mass
>the sound of running feet and battle cries is split by the screams of the men impaled by turn heavy shafts
>the charge momentarily stumbles as the few who were unhurt slow down to wait for their comrades to catch up
>"PASS PILA TO THE FRONT" Marcella's voice rings out over the din
>the Legionaries have just enough time to throw one more volley before the Germans are upon them
>the Germans throw themselves against the barricade, hacking and slashing at the Roman shields with reckless abandon, or trying to pull down the barricade and open up a breach
>for their part, the legionaries used their remaining Javelins as spears, stabbing down into the mass of mostly unarmored Germans below

>heavy iron points burst through German shoulders and necks
>tribesmen fall to the ground, and those who are not dead already are trampled to death underfoot by their own men who are eager to get at the Romans
>our legionaries exact a punishing toll on the Germans, but every now and again one of them gets lucky
>in one spot a Roman extended himself too far out and was unable to avoid the point of a german spear that burst through his thigh
>he fell forward into the enemy ranks and was cut to pieces by the frenzied mob
>and then down the line several Germans worked together to wrench a legionaries shield down before stabbing her through the throat
>but despite these small tragedies, our line is holding and they’ll run out of men before we do if the current casualty ratio holds
>after a few more minutes of fighting, Marcella breaks free of the rear ranks and comes jogging down to me
>her drawn sword is stained to the hilt with blood, as is a good portion of her armor
>”we have a problem,” she says gravely. “I saw large groups of Germans break off from the back of their force and start circling around. Soon we’re going to be hit from multiple sides.”
>fuck
>”I have my hands full holding the main barricade, I need you to hold off the flanking attacks from the three other directions. They won’t be as big or as determined as the main force but if one gets through we’re all dead. Can you do that?”
>I nod weakly as I look into Marcella’s eyes, her fierce gray eyes alight with fire and looking like small balls of burning steel
>*smack* Marcella’s hand lashes and my head careens to the side, the rest of my body following suit as I try to keep my balance
>before I can regain my footing she has grabbed the straps on my armor and pulled me to her
>so close that I can smell her scent over the woodsmoke of the burning town