Shortly after we arrived at the depot, we learned of the disaster in Africa and the loss of two Legions, the 17th and 18th as I recall, but the biggest blow to Caesar’s plans for invading Greece came with the news of Gaius Antonius’ misadventure. The younger brother of Marcus Antonius had, on his own authority, launched a punitive expedition across the Inland Sea to Greece, where he was promptly surrounded and forced to surrender. Not only did Pompey gain two Legions from his folly, but more importantly, Caesar lost more than 40 of the desperately needed transport ships to ferry the huge army across the sea. Finally, Caesar still had his hands full in Rome, working to secure his power base and beginning the push for his legislative reforms, so we were all confident that we were not going anywhere for some time.
~ ~ ~ ~
The winter we spent in Brundisium was one of the dreariest, most trying of my career to that point, brightened only by the arrival of my small family. Just in the months we were separated, Vibius had begun toddling about and was forming his first words. I am afraid I frightened him half to death when we were reunited, and looking back, I can see how fearsome I must have been, rushing to the apartment straight from duty when Gisela sent word that they had arrived, not bothering to change out of my uniform. The combination of my size and the sight of me in my full regalia was more than enough to send him running to his mother’s arms, and I must say that it hurt quite a bit that my own child was scared of me. Happily, once I doffed my helmet and my armor, his curiosity soon overcame his fear and he came toddling over to me, helped along, I suspect, as much by the candied plum and carved toy Legionary I had brought, as by me. But I was not going to quibble and it was not long before he was settled on my lap and things were right as rain between us. Gisela looked lovelier than ever; she still took my breath away whenever I laid eyes on her, and she blessed me with a smile of such happiness that I did not think that life could possibly be better than that moment when we were reunited. Sitting there, snug in the apartment still filled with crates, bags, and boxes containing our household goods that she brought with her, with a cold, drizzling rain beating against the shutters and the fire blazing merrily away, I suddenly let out a laugh of sheer joy. Because I did so in the middle of Gisela’s description of the horrible journey, I was rewarded with an arched eyebrow as she pursed her lips, a clear sign of irritation that I was not listening.
“And what,” she demanded, “could be so funny about hearing how your son and I had to suffer staying in a flea-infested inn, being groped by some drunk?”
I held up my hand in a placating gesture. “Pax, my darling.” I did not often use endearments, but I judged this was strategically a good time to do so, and was rewarded with a slight softening around the corners of her mouth. "It’s just that I was struck by the thought of what the men would say if they could see me now.” I drew her to me, my arm around her waist, and she came willingly, a smile beginning to form. “They’re sure that I sprang up from dragon’s teeth; I even overheard a couple of the men arguing over whether I actually had a mother.”
Although we both laughed, I felt the pang of an old ache that I thought had long passed, because in truth I did not have a mother, at least in the sense that most people know, but it was at odd moments like this where I felt the loss most keenly. I shook those thoughts from my head, adding, “In truth, it surprises me as much as it would them.”
“What, that you’re happy to see your family?” Gisela pulled away and put her hands on her hips, a severe expression on her face but I could tell that she was being playful.
“That I even have a family,” I said quietly, and I think it was at that moment I came closest to accepting the idea that I might leave the Legions when my enlistment was up.
I had indeed mellowed with age, although I laugh now at the thought that I considered myself old at the age of 28, which I would be my next birthday. To be fair, I had experienced more in the last 12 years than most people did in their lifetime and indeed, thanks to Caesar, had seen more action than most Legionaries did their entire career. Still, I was young, especially compared to now, and life was full of possibilities.
I settled into a routine balancing my family and duty, not all that hard given the level of inactivity in the depot as the winter passed. Most of my time was spent working with the senior Centurions of the other Cohorts and Legions in keeping our men from killing each other. In the spirit of honesty, however, I must confess that it was not only the rankers chafing at the idleness and there were a fair number of brawls involving Centurions, which I somehow managed to avoid, although I do not know how or why. I began spending more time with Priscus, who I had come to appreciate as the best of the Centurions under my command. Celer and I were in what can only be described as an uneasy truce. I believe that he had resigned himself to the idea that I was not going anywhere, and since every scheme to undermine me had gone awry, he was beginning to grudgingly accept his lot. Niger was still his toady, the two seldom apart, so I guess it was only natural that I teamed up with another Centurion.
My friendship with Vibius was still intact, more or less, but the differences in our rank made fraternization difficult, along with our differences concerning Caesar. Vibius was growing increasingly isolated in his resistance to Caesar’s charms, our general being elected Consul, then promptly pushing through legislation that was exceedingly popular with the people of our class. Additionally, he continued to act with restraint against his enemies, refusing to use his powers to exact revenge. In short, Caesar was becoming increasingly harder to hate, and whereas before when Vibius had held forth at the fire about his grievances against Caesar there had been some heads nodding in agreement, even that silent support had dried up. I cannot say that I was not secretly amused at seeing Vibius’ surprise and subsequent irritation the first time he began one of his diatribes against Caesar and tongues previously always still were now roused to Caesar’s defense. It only took a few times for Vibius to realize the futility of arguing, so he would sit fuming by the fire, unable to give vent to his frustration. I had long since given up the idea that Vibius would eventually come around on the subject of Caesar; while I did not, and still do not truly understand the nature of his dislike, I did recognize that he would hold his opinion of Caesar until one of them was dead. Not that I imagine Caesar lost much sleep over the idea that Sergeant Vibius Domitius did not approve of his actions. Vibius’ disapproval notwithstanding, the overwhelming majority of the rankers, along with the civilians of the lower classes did approve of the actions that Caesar was taking, and Pompey’s support had ebbed away to nothing, at least publicly. Even so, what the people wanted more than anything was the two combatants to make peace without further bloodshed, but that did not look likely.
~ ~ ~ ~
Pompey had indeed been busy, using his contacts and influence on the eastern fringes of the Republic to summon troops and supplies from all the various petty kings, satraps, and other puppets of the region, along with building extensive fortifications along the coast in preparation for our landing. Then, Caesar decided to prove me wrong in my judgment that we would not be mounting an assault for a few months by relinquishing the dictatorship and leaving Rome, arriving in Brundisium in mid-December. He immediately issued orders to begin preparations for embarkation, despite the dearth of reliable transports. Deciding that rather than waiting, he would launch the invasion in three waves, we were summoned to headquarters one frosty morning a couple days after Caesar had arrived. An excited bunch made their way from our Legion area across the sprawling base to the designated building. All of us were animated at the idea of action, save for one, and that one was me. I had honestly believed that we would spend the winter on this side of the sea that separates Italia from Greece, and I did not relish the idea of telling Gisela that I would be leaving shortly. She knew, like everyone in the area did, that Caesar had arrived, but she had taken my assurances that it was just an inspection, meaning nothing. Unfortunately, now I was going to have to tell her differently. We had been together barely a month, and if the rumor mill were to be believed, we would be embarking just as quickly as the ships could be loaded. When the ten of us arrived at the headquarters building, we were shown into Caesar’s presence immediately, another sign that things were moving rapidly. I was shocked when I saw him; he looked like he had aged overnight, his face deeply lined, with the deep grooves etched in his forehead that some call “worry lines.” He had dark circles under his eyes, and his skin was even paler than it normally was, since he had the kind of complexion that did not darken in the sun as much as men who had skin tones such as mine. Despite all these signs of woe, he displayed the same energy, and after greeting some of us warmly by name and making the obligatory joke about my size, he got down to business.