Hero of Rome Read Free

so he wore the heavy scarlet cloak that marked his rank over his full dress uniform, and by now his puffy, patrician face and balding scalp matched it almost to perfection.
    ‘I hope I didn’t disturb your games, Verrens?’ The voice was excessively cultured and the tone almost solicitous. ‘Perhaps we should have our tribunes wrestling in the mud with the common soldiery every morning? It would raise their morale considerably to inflict a few lumps and bumps on their officers. We might even lose a few, but then tribunes aren’t much good for anything in any case. Yes, good for morale. But … not … good … for … discipline!’ The final sentence was barked out with all the venom Livius could inject into it. Valerius picked out a worn spot on the tent wall behind the legate’s right shoulder as he prepared to ride out the inevitable storm.
    The legionary commander spat out his words like a volley of ballista bolts. ‘Discipline, Verrens, is what has allowed Rome to conquer every worthwhile part of this world and to dominate what’s left. Discipline. Not courage. Not organization. Not even the untold riches of the Empire. Discipline. The kind of discipline that will keep a legionary holding the line while his comrades fall one by one at his side. The discipline that will keep him in the fight until he has not another drop of blood to give. The kind of discipline which you, Gaius Valerius Verrens, by your childish desire to impress, are in danger of fatally weakening. Do you think you made yourself more popular by challenging Crespo? Do you want to be liked ? Show me a legion whose officers are liked by their soldiers and I will show you a legion ripe for defeat. This is the Twentieth legion. This is my legion. And I will have discipline. The only thing you achieved, tribune, was to diminish a centurion’s authority.’
    Without warning the tone softened. ‘You’re not a bad soldier, Valerius; one day you may become a very good one. Your father asked me to take you on my staff to provide the military experience you require to make a career in politics and I fulfilled my obligation because our families have been voting side by side on the Field of Mars for ten generations. But the one thing I have learned in our time together is that you are no politician. Flattery and dissembling are not in your nature, nor is a natural desire to curry favour. You lack true ambition, which is essential, and you are honest, which is most certainly not. If you follow the political path you will fail. I have already tried to tell your father this, but perhaps I was overly subtle for he still sees you in the Senate some day. What age are you? Twenty-two? Twenty-three? A quaestorship in three years, atop some desert dung heap. Twelve months spent attempting to prevent your rapacious governor or proconsul from ruining his province and its people.’ Valerius was surprised enough to allow his eyes to drop and meet the legate’s. ‘Oh, yes, tribune, I have been there. Counting every sestertius and gasping at the man’s greed, then counting them again just to be sure he hasn’t stolen a few more. And after that? A year back in Rome, perhaps with an appointment, perhaps not. That is when your future will be decided, and by then it will be in your hands.’
    Valerius could see the two aides still staring at the model on the sand table and trying to look as if they weren’t listening. The legate followed his gaze.
    ‘Leave us.’ The two men saluted and hurriedly made for the door.
    ‘Come.’ Valerius followed his commander across the dirt floor towards the sand table. ‘There will be a day, Valerius, when your soldiers are mere coins to be spent. What will you do then, when you know you must order them into the abyss? The truth is that they do not seek your friendship, but your leadership. Here.’ He pointed at the sand table, which held a perfect miniature replica of the hill and the British fortress.
    ‘Sir?’
    ‘It is time