Finally, the man who had uttered the insult said in a voice that did not waver, “Yes, sir. That’s what I said. No disrespect intended. In fact, we Spaniards use it as a term of affection sometimes sir. Not sure what your custom is, sir.”
I had to suppress a chuckle; at least the man could think on his feet, and he did not immediately fall to the ground quaking. Well, we will see how long that lasts, I thought, stepping around and turning to face him, looking down where his face was gazing straight into my chest. I was pleased to see that suddenly he did not seem so sure of himself, sure that I detected a hint of a quiver run through his body, but if it was there he quickly got it under control. Then I leaned towards him, another favorite trick of mine, and despite himself, he in turn leaned back, trying to maintain some distance between us. I smiled, but it was not a nice smile as I looked him up and down, curling my lip in the same manner that Crastinus had all those years ago, and I was struck by a sudden urge to laugh. Apparently, the numen that had once waved the invisible turd under Crastinus’ nose back when I was a tiro had transferred itself to me now that he was gone.
Finally, I spoke again. “You’re a short-ass little piece of cac, aren’t you?” He did not say anything, and I snapped, “I believe I asked you a question, Gregarius!”
“Yes, sir,” he barked. “I’m a short-ass piece of cac!”
I nodded. “I thought as much. But it’s good that you see yourself for what you are. The path to true happiness lies in knowing your shortcomings. And you want to be happy, don’t you, Gregarius?”
A look of confusion flitted across his face, but he knew the game well enough to know that no matter where this was going, he was going to lose. It is one of the secrets to being as close to happy as one can be in the army; knowing that your superiors are playing with loaded dice that will come up Venus for them on every roll. Once one accepts that, it makes life for everyone go much easier, and by this point in time, every man who thought he could beat the system had long since died or deserted.
“Yes, sir. I want to be happy, sir.”
“Do you know what another brick in the road to true happiness is, Gregarius?”
“No, sir, but I hope that the Centurion will instruct me. Sir.”
Despite myself, I was enjoying this exchange and I suspect that the Gregarius was as well. It is all just a big farce really, and we each have a role to play.
Now I bent my knees so that I was looking directly into his eyes, saying slowly and distinctly, “Do. Not. Fuck. With. Me. Or I will beat you to death with my bare hands. Do you doubt that, Gregarius? That I could do just that?”
Role it may have been, but I was also deadly serious, and looking into his eyes before he looked away, I saw with satisfaction that he knew it as well.
“No, sir. I don’t doubt it at all. Sir.”
His tone was clipped, but his voice held no emotion, his eyes now back to looking at a point above my head.
I nodded again. “What’s your name and rank, Gregarius?”
“Gregarius Immunes Gaius Tetarfenus, sir.”
I turned to the first man, asking him the same, and my suspicions were confirmed.
“Sergeant Quintus Tetarfenus. Sir.”
I raised an eyebrow as I turned to the Sergeant. “You’re a Sergeant? And you’re talking in the ranks like a washerwoman?” I gave a loud, theatrical sigh then shook my head. “I am surprised.” I raised my voice so that more of the men could hear. “When I was told that I'd be leading the men of the 6th Legion, I thought to myself, here’s a group of men worthy of my leadership at least. Men that I, Primus Pilus Titus Pullus,” I savored the taste of my new title on my tongue, “would be honored to lead wherever Caesar deems it necessary to send us, whether it’s to Hades or to the top of Olympus to fight the gods themselves!” Pausing, I looked at the men around me out of the corner of my eye, and I could see them straining to hear my words. I let out another huge sigh. “But what’s my first impression? My first impression, courtesy of the Tetarfenus brothers, is that they gossip like camp whores, and they have no respect for their superior officers!”
My voice was like a lash by the time I finished, and I was pleased to see that the reaction of the men seemed to be equal parts anger and shame. I had little doubt that some of the anger was directed at me, but the majority would now be aimed at the brothers Tetarfenus and when I turned to walk towards the front of the formation, I saw by their ashen expressions that they indeed felt that way. Taking my place at the front of the formation, I executed an about turn to face my new command. Staring back at me were men almost identical to the men of the Second Cohort of the 10th. Oh, the faces were different, but the men were exactly the same. Some larger than others, none as large as me, although there were a couple who came close, all browned by countless days in the sun, without an ounce of spare fat on their frames, and there were scars and decorations in abundance.
“As you just heard, my name is Primus Pilus Titus Pullus, recently promoted to this grade by Caesar himself from my post as Secundus Pilus Prior of the 10th.”
I am not completely sure what I was expecting, but the reaction I got at mention of the 10th was not it. Instead of respect, or at the least regard for what we had accomplished, I saw lips lifted in sneers, clear signs of contempt. I was bewildered; I know now that at the very least it was naïve of me to think that men who just days ago were on the other side of the battlefield would automatically accord the 10th the kind of respect that we were accorded by the rest of the army. At that moment, however, I honestly could not understand what was behind the reactions I was seeing, and the subsequent wave of anger that flowed through me was something white-hot, literally making my blood feel like it had suddenly turned molten. My legs began to shake with rage, and I could tell that this beast was about to burst out of my chest, just like when the madness took hold of me in much the same way it had that first time on that hill in Lusitania all those years ago. This killing rage prompted me to do something that as far as I know, had never been done before and likely has not been done since. As if my hands had a mind of their own my left hand unclenched, dropping my vitus to the ground, then I untied the straps to my helmet, laying it down on top of the vitus. I could see that I held the men’s undivided attention, but I was not finished. Unstrapping my harness next, and laying my weapons next to the helmet, I then very carefully removed my phalarae, torqs, and other decorations before pulling off my armor, laying it on the ground as well. All this was done in total, and shocked silence, but the quiet was about to be broken, by me. Now I was only in my tunic, the standard army issue tunic that in my case stretched tightly across my chest and shoulders, the sleeves barely covering my shoulders, leaving the bulging muscles of my arms exposed. Stepping away from my gear, I suddenly filled my lungs and roared more loudly than I had ever done before in my life.
“I am Titus Pullus! I am the son of Mars and Bellona! I am of the 10th Legion, and I challenge any one of you motherless cunni to step forward and face me! I spit on your ancestors, dogs and whores that they were! I am not a Centurion, I am not the Primus Pilus at this moment! I am Titus Pullus! Do any of you have the courage to challenge me?”
I could feel the cords of my neck straining as I shouted these words, the blood suffusing my face as I clenched my fists, stalking up and down in front of the assembled men, glaring at each of them, none of whom met my gaze.
I gave a harsh, mocking laugh. “So these are the men of the vaunted 6th Legion? None of them even dare to look me in the eye, so I know that there’s not a man among them who dares to challenge me.” My lips curled in a sneer. “Do I need to make it any plainer? I’m not standing here as your Primus Pilus, or as a Centurion. I give you my word that there will be no official punishment for any man who bests me. In fact, I offer a reward of a thousand sesterces if you do beat me, and I’ll exempt the man from any fatigue duties for a month!”