Sword of Rome: Standard Bearer Read Free Page A

with speed and bravery to move his scutum aloft and across in time.
    Both Oppius and Fabius looked up at the cliffs to see where the missile had
come from. The would-be assassin wore a scowl upon his face and pointed down at
the standard bearer – and then drew a line across his neck. The Briton also
wore a number of bronze bangles and an elaborate necklace to signify his
importance. Before Oppius could scrutinize the savage
more he spat out an indecipherable curse, turned away and disappeared.
    “It seems that that you’ve made an enemy
already. At least it’s unlikely that you slept with his wife. But he was keen
on killing you it seemed,” Roscius exclaimed, walking
towards his friend.
    “If that’s the case then the bastard can get
in the queue. Now I suppose I better thank you lad for saving my life. I owe
you one. Let this be a lesson to you though. The shield is mightier than the
pen. I for one am glad your father wants you to be a soldier rather than poet.”
    Marcus Fabius smiled, but blushed too. He was pleased that he had earned the standard
bearer’s respect.
    “I’m wondering if I should join that queue,” a
stern voice issued from behind the standard bearer. Oppius turned to see Caesar standing before him, his face unreadable. Lucius had hoped
that Caesar would have witnessed his bravery earlier, but his actions in
putting the eagle at risk could as easily meet with punishment, as opposed to a
reward. The legionary stood to attention before his commander, unable to look
him in the eye, awaiting his fate.
    “After your actions today I cannot now have
you serve as a standard bearer to the legion.”
    Oppius ’ heart sank, in unison with his face dropping. He felt too sorrowful,
ashamed, to feel anger.
    “No, your actions today have left me with no
other choice but to promote you to the rank of centurion,” Caesar exclaimed,
his marble features breaking out into a smile. Caesar then approached Oppius and warmly clasped him upon the shoulder.
    “Now stand at ease. I should be saluting you.
I’m still undecided as to whether you’re mad, or just lucky, but I’d like you
to join me for dinner this evening so I can finally make up my mind.”

 

 
 
      6.

 
    Oppius dressed himself, to the sound in the background of the legions
felling trees and constructing the walls of the army’s camp. Caesar had
defeated the enemy, but due to the absence of cavalry he could not rout them
after forcing them off the beach. The legions would need to fortify themselves
against a counter-attack. The newly promoted officer had ordered Fabius to wash his best tunic – and he permitted himself a
smile upon thinking that it was the first order he had ever given to someone as
a centurion. Oppius had also shaved and polished every
piece of metal he had on display. He was perhaps more nervous about meeting
Caesar for dinner than had been before any battle.

 
    “I knew his father Joseph,” Caesar remarked to
his manservant, a wizened Jew who had been part of the Julii household since before his birth. Although Joseph spent most of his time in
Rome, Caesar would occasionally have the cynical and dry-witted servant attend
him on campaign. “ Gneaus Oppius .
I remember Marius once saying that he was worth two cohorts.”
    Joseph, who was just finishing up from shaving
his master and rubbing oils to his skin, thought to himself how it was unlikely
that Marius paid him the wages of two cohorts.
    “Sulla once said about Caesar that he saw many
a Marius in me. I am hoping that similarly there is many a Gneaus Oppius within his son. I could use a man like that
Joseph. But I fear I may be boring you with military matters my old friend.
Tell me, what do you think of Britain?”
    “I’m not sure I’m the best person to ask. All
I’ve seen of it so far is a beach full of corpses and a forest at night. I’m
hopeful the sights will improve though. I confess that I prefer Rome. For one
thing it rains less. From what