Marching With Caesar_Vengeance by R. W. Peake

Author:R. W. Peake [Peake, R. W.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: varus, ancient warfare, marching with caesar, ancient rome, germanicus, roman legions
ISBN: 1941226159
Google: SJ2_DAEACAAJ
Amazon: B01H2L6WV0
Goodreads: 30806079
Publisher: R.W. Peake
Published: 2016-06-15T03:59:16+00:00

Fortunately, it was dark as we made our way through the streets of Arelate, making the fact that I was wearing a gladius a bit less obvious; the fact that I carried the urn under my left arm and my vitus in my right, the reverse order, was my attempt to partially disguise the fact that I was armed. As we walked, I gave Septimus the bare facts of my identity, how I had arrived in Ubiorum after the man I thought was my father, Quintus Claudius Volusenus, purchased me a posting as the Quartus Hastatus Posterior of the 1st Legion, where Titus Porcinianus Pullus was the Princeps Prior.

“Wait,” he interrupted, and he turned to look at me as we walked, “Titus told me about you when he was here.”

“Really? What did he say?” I asked, curious to know, but his answer was not altogether surprising, or interesting.

“Just that he had a Centurion in his Cohort who was his size. Although,” he sidestepped slightly to take a better look, “I think you may be a bit taller.”

“I am,” I said without thinking, then the weight of the urn under my arm made me correct myself. “I was.”

“This,” Septimus tried to sound casual, but I was not fooled, “must be very strange for you.”

This made me laugh.

“Which part?” I asked him. “The fact that I didn’t find out who my father really was until after he was dead? Or the fact that I’m walking down a street in a town I’ve never been before with one uncle, about to confront another uncle, carrying the ashes of their brother under my arm?”

Although I had not meant to be funny, I confess I had to chuckle at this, and I was pleased that he laughed as well, admitting, “Now that you mention it, I suppose all of it.”

Before I could say anything in response, he pointed to the intersection ahead. “Bacchus’ Delight is right around the corner.” He came to a stop, and I understood why when he spoke with a lower tone, ignoring the people wandering past who were staring at me. “If Gaius has kept things the same way, there will be at least two men outside the door. And, Gnaeus,” he turned to me, “there’s something you should probably know. The last time I was here with your father, things got…messy. But, don’t worry, I know it won’t be the same two men.”

Later, I realized that I should have made the connection immediately; I blame my distraction for my asking him, “How could you know that?”

“Because,” Septimus did not hesitate, but by the flickering torchlight from the one attached to the bracket that is placed on every corner, I saw his lip curve upward, “I saw your father kill one of them, and I heard the next day the other man quit and left town.” Then, as I stood there slack-jawed, he began turning the corner, stopping in the middle of the street to ask, “Well? Are you three coming?”

He

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