Soldier of Rome: The Centurion (The Artorian Chronicles) Read Online Free PDF Page A

dearly in lives and spoils. Even their wives, children, the old, and the infirm were not spared from the legions’ wrath. Those who could not flee…” His voice trailed off and his eyes seemed lost, as if seeing beyond. Suddenly he shook his head, brought back to the present.
     
    “My apologies,” he said, swallowing hard. “I will speak no more of that time.” Amke noticed sweat had suddenly formed on his brow, even though it was not hot out.
    The war chief, like her cousin Prince Klaes, had always been a mentor and brotherly figure to her. Amke then understood the paradox within Tabbo. He understood the Romans and held their war fighting abilities with the highest respect, but there was something darker, something that he had almost told her yet elected not to. Amke knew about the brutal nature of tribal warfare, where villages would be destroyed and all within killed or enslaved. Yet from what she could see of the few dozen legionaries training in the open valley below, she sensed that once unleashed, the Roman war machine was able to inflict death and destruction on an unimaginable scale. She was both horrified and fascinated at the same time by the concept of such fearsome power.
     

     
    Artorius was elated when he heard the news regarding the promotion of his Centurion, Platorius Macro, to the First Cohort. He had served as Macro’s second-in-command for two years; the Centurion having been a father figure and mentor to him ever since he first joined the legions ten years ago. At twenty-seven years of age, Optio Titus Artorius Justus was still the youngest of his rank within the Third Cohort. He also knew that he was three years shy of the minimum age requirement for promotion to the rank of Centurion, so he understood that he would not be considered as Macro’s replacement. The Centurion noted this as he spoke to his Optio while directing servants to pack up his personal belongings out of the Centurion’s quarters.
    “I’m just glad that regardless of who replaces me , the men of the Second Century still have a strong leader they can look to,” he said as he pointed to a chest with a number of his personal affects. A pair of slaves hefted the chest with a pair of grunts and hobbled out of the room.
    “You flatter me, sir,” Artorius replied with a shrug. “There are a number of solid leaders within this century. I daresay any of the Principal Officers and probably half the Decanii could step into my position.”
    “Well, it’s a shame none of them will,” Macro said as he led the Optio out of his quarters and into the open street. It was an early spring morning, and the fortress of the Twentieth and First Legions in Cologne was always a bustle of activity at this time of day. Squads and centuries of legionaries marched towards the drill and parade fields for training, others ran in small formations as part of their daily physical fitness, administrators and logisticians went about the business of supporting and supplying the legions with the mountains of food and equipment they needed.
    “I am still too young to replace you,” Artorius observed.
    “Young in years, but not experience,” Macro countered. “On every action this legion has fought since you enlisted you have been singled out for your valor and leadership. That’s far more than can be said for my replacement.” He walked along the road towards the east gate, hands clasped behind his back as he did so.
    “You know who it is then,” Artorius said.
    Macro nodded. “Yes, and you’re not going to like it. His name is Fulvius; he was a direct appointment, meaning he has never spent a day in the ranks as a legionary. The sad thing about our society is that Rome is full of men in positions of power who got there not because of their own accomplishments, but rather because of whom their father’s were, or their father’s friends for that matter.”
    “So he got to w here he’s at because of who his father sucked up to,” Artorius