Chapter 2

It was mid-morning on a Caledonian summer day. Summer was the only time the weather in the Gods-awful place was decent. The rest of the year it was either cool and rainy, cold and rainy, or foggy. The previous winter the dreadful area had gone four whole months without seeing the sun, getting a nearly eternal slow rain or mist instead. The days would be uncomfortably warm soon, but nothing compared to the nearly tropical summers at home on the Mediterranean.

I deeply missed my wife and children. This time of day, they would watch the townspeople starting their work. Fishermen would bring their boats and their catch in from a night netting sardines, bream, or sea bass. A few would herd their goats out to the hills to graze, and most of the others would harvest their grapes, olives, or vegetables. The island’s soil and weather weren’t right for grain, so we traded wine and olive oil in exchange for Egyptian wheat. We also got oats and barley from Taurica, which would later be called Crimea. We bought a lot of Taurican cheese. It was softer and not as salty as most of the cheeses made near Rome. It spoiled after only a few months, but was mild and delicious.

I was well off, but not outrageously so. I was in the Eques, the class well-off enough to own a horse or horses. We were still the lower portion of the nobility, though. Most of the Senatoria and the Imperial family looked down on us, the way many of us disdained slaves and the poor.

The main source of my limited wealth was a closely guarded secret, known only to my immediate family, the blacksmith, and the three men who worked the mine. If it was known we produced silver, the Governor would try to claim the mine as his own, since my father had never paid the taxes he rightfully owed for it.

To keep up appearances, the three miners also dug iron for the blacksmith at another mine on the island. They only mined silver secretly two days a week, which was enough to produce two or three talents of silver a year. If only I could get official rights to the mine from the Emperor! But he rarely even talked to anyone lower ranked than Senators, High Priests, or Legates. I could have fifty miners digging every day instead, and be one of the richest men in the empire! If only!

The Governor of the region had visited the island once when I was a child, and he was treated with the reverence Neptune or Apollo would get, if they appeared in person. Women and children tossed flower petals at his feet and there were three days of sports and feasting in his honor. He seemed annoyed that we were so poor, and hadn’t returned in twelve years.

When my father passed away from the consumption when I was 19, I became Patrician of the town Balit, and the island it was on, Sciathos. I had the choice to do military service or not, and I was free to leave when a yearly campaign was over. There was only one way I would ever meet the Emperor, so off to the army I went.

I expected my Patrician status to get me a position of Decanus, in charge of about twenty men. I was lucky and got a better position as Optio, second in command of a century of ninety soldiers. I was Optio for only a month, before my Centurion retired and I took his place!

After only four months and a couple minor battles as a Centurion, I was shocked and very happy, to be promoted to Equitatus Parviclavius, Cavalry Tribune! The wording ‘Equitatus Parviclavius’ means ‘horseman small stripe’, for the narrow purple rank stripe I was entitled to put on my clothing, at my own cost, of course. Just dyeing the purple stripes on my sleeves cost me a month’s pay! I became Purpurei or ‘one of the purple’, true nobility! I immediately wrote my wife, to share the great news.

The Senator’s nephew who had the position before me left to campaign for political office. Since I could read, do math, and ride a horse well, I was the only nobleman available who was qualified. The other Tribunes commanded Maniples of ten Centuries, around nine hundred soldiers and a hundred or so servants. I led 300 mounted soldiers and another 150 laborers and servants, but cavalry have four times the combat power, if used correctly.

Only three men in the whole Legion outranked me! Legatus Pullo would be called a General in later days. He was cousin to a Senator, but deserved respect and his high rank. He had seen at least ten battles, and actually fought in the front ranks twice himself. He’s also infamous for having only four moods; eating, sleeping, fucking, or angry. I thought it odd that he greatly preferred large strong women, instead of beautiful ones. Many of those he rejected easily could have won the hearts of most other men.

Second in rank was the Legatus Secundus, sometimes called the Laticlavius, for the single wide rank stripe on his sleeves. In most Legions they were either sons of senators or relatives of the Emperor. Most were only Secundus a year or two, as a start to their political careers. Ours left the night before the battle. He said he needed to go because his wife’s favorite horse was ill. Coward!