The Great Game Read Online Free PDF Page A

Vindobona and the reason for its creation, growth and importance remained, as always, the army. At the centre of the spider web of roads, lanes and buildings stood the great fortress with its high stone walls, water-filled surrounding ditch, towers and red-roofed internal buildings. The fortress that had played host to four legions in its various incarnations, the latest being Rufinus’ own, was powerful and imposing and now held the centre of administration for the entire empire, due to the presence of the Imperial family during this protracted campaign. The column moved down the wide avenue, trudged across the bridge in the dim light and reached the artificial island which housed the massive fortress.
    Just six years ago, as a fresh-faced young man, Rufinus had arrived in this great place as part of a trade caravan from northern Italia, seeking a position in the military far from the influence and intervention of his father; a place where the name Rustius Rufinus was as unknown as he himself. The Tenth had been the resident garrison of Vindobona for six decades now, had suffered crushingdefeats against the Marcomanni and watched the city burn before returning the favour and then rebuilding stronger and grander than ever. There was a commonly-held misconception among the non-martial public that the garrisons on the borders of the empire earned their pay by sitting in barracks, raping the local economy of its strength and growing fat and intemperate with wine and rich food. Such was never the case here, with the arrogant and expansionist tribes across the river.
    Rufinus had settled into barracks in the knowledge that any peace and prosperity the city seemed to be exhibiting was ephemeral and could be whisked away in mere moments when the tribes beyond the river decided that they were once more strong enough to challenge the rule of Rome.
    And then, after three years of growing used to garrison life, learning the ways of the legion, training as a soldier and earning his double-pay status by bringing the First Cohort the inter-century championship, the world had exploded into frenzied activity as the Imperial court descended on the fortress. Eight more legions and thousands of auxiliaries came in tow - the final, total conquest of the troublesome local tribes foremost in the mind of the great Marcus Aurelius.
    Six years…
    The column passed from the still new, resin-odoured timber of the bridge and onto the snowy-blanketed turf that lay before the magnificent walls just as the braziers, torches and watch-fires were lit and the buccina call for the fourth watch rang out across the town.
    As they approached the northern gatehouse, the optio commanding the watch called out, asking for the approaching column’s identification. The commander shouted back the response and the gate swung ponderously open. The loud, ominous creak of the hinges and the detritus that had built up against the wooden gates spoke eloquently of how rarely this gate was opened, standing somewhat redundantly facing a river that few would cross in peace.
    As the column passed through the gate, Rufinus shuddered. It felt strange returning after so long. Though the fortress was the closest thing he’d had to a home in six years – possibly in his whole life, now he thought about it – returning under escort of the Praetorian Guard and to an uncertain reception robbed the event of any comfort.
    The men of the First Adiutrix, currently garrisoning the fortress in the absence of its own legion, watched as the white-clad riders passed by, some with awe and respect, more with jealousy and greed, and others still with barely concealed sneers of contempt. The Imperial guard always drew a variety of reactions, often depending upon the previous experiences of the observer. While they were nominally the elite of the army, well-paid and with exceptional benefits and a position to which most legionaries aspired, they also had the ear of the emperor and more power than