Final Campaign

despite the factI could easily afford to either hire, or buy the labor needed torun it, I wanted no association with it. Perhaps two months aftertheir departure, the pair returned, bringing the deed to a villawithin the town walls of Arelate that had belonged to what had beendescribed to Diocles as one of the wealthiest merchants in theregion. Although it was not attached to a farm, it did have a verylarge garden area located within the walls, and all theconveniences that graced all but the most lavish villas in Rome.Agis, who turned out to have quite a talent for art, had sketchedout a layout of the villa's floor plan, but had not stopped there.With some colors, he drew what I would learn was a perfect image ofthe exterior of the villa, using pieces of slate as his drawingsurface. What I liked the most was how it had been built with aneye towards defense, and the walls were actually a foot higher thanthose around it; old habits never completely die out, I suppose. Amonth before my retirement, I put Agis in charge of packing up allbut the most basic of my belongings, particularly my now-extensivelibrary, and sent him and all of my household but Diocles on aheadto take possession of the villa in Arelate. Finally, there wasnothing left but to retire. And, most difficult of all, to saygoodbye to my family.

Frankly, when compared to the ceremonyorganized by Scribonius and Balbus on my elevation to Camp Prefect,my retirement from the army was quite anti-climactic. Oh, it wasconducted with all the pomp and ceremony that the Legions of Romecan produce. Every Legion of the Army of Pannonia was present,minus the Cohorts that had been left behind, stationed at thevarious outposts. They were turned out in their finest uniforms,with their red tunics matched by red plumes now that the madderroot was so widely available. Everything glittered, from the armor,shield bosses, javelin points, and helmets. Even if it had not beenon the occasion of my retirement, it was a sight that produced inme the same stirrings that I shared with my best friend Vibius whenwe were arrayed in formation for the first time as an army, back inHispania forty-two years earlier. There was a slight breeze, makingthe cloth vexilla flutter softly, their red backgrounds, with thelettering made with golden thread that informed what Legion andCohort they belonged to, all arrayed in neat lines. Most dazzlingof all were the Legion aquilae; they had been recently convertedfrom the silver gilt first introduced by Gaius Marius, into thegold gilt eagle as commanded by Octavian, just one of his manyreforms of the army in these last few years. Since it was also asunny day, the wings of the eagles caught the light in bursts ofwinking fire, and it was between these ranks that I rode Ocelus,accompanied by the current Legate, also on horseback, performingwhat was my final inspection of any sort. Because this was merely aformality, I was to remain mounted; during a real inspection, theinspecting officer either dismounts, or is on foot for the wholeordeal. However, when I reached one Legion in particular, I amafraid that I disrupted all the carefully laid plans. Withoutgiving any warning, or even worse, asking leave of the Legate to doso, I swung my leg over Ocelus and slid off his back to walk overto where the Primus Pilus of the 8^th Legion wasstanding.

"Congratulations." I offered Macrinus myarm.

Clearly startled, he broke discipline thesame way that I did as he looked at me quizzically.

"Congratulations for what?"

"Well, you weren't going to find out untillater today, after all this," I indicated the formation with myhead, "is over. But I wanted to be the first to tell you that youare the new Camp Prefect for the Army of Pannonia."

Behind me, I heard the Legate utter agasping curse, while in front of me, Macrinus looked completelyshocked, which had been my goal. Happy, I was pleased to see, butshocked.

"T-thank you, Prefect." Macrinus pumped myarm vigorously, a smile breaking out on his seamed face, and I sawthat he had lost a bottom tooth since the last time I saw him."This is a tremendous honor! I just hope I live up to the exampleyou set for us."

"You mean almost getting expelled from thearmy and executed in the bargain?" I admit that it was a bad joke,but I have always had a streak of the perverse in me, and onereason I liked Macrinus so much was that he shared it, and helaughed along with me.

"Well, I hope you'll forgive me if I don'tgo that far." He grinned. "Although hopefully there are no more ofthe likes of Marcus Primus left in Rome."

"Oh," I once more spoke before I thought."There's always an abundance of Marcus Primuses in Rome."

Again, I heard a sound over my shoulder, andI winced at my error, while Macrinus tried to look elsewhere,knowing that if our eyes met, this solemn event would be marred bya levity completely unbecoming to it.

"Anyway." I cleared my throat."Congratulations again. I know you'll do magnificently."

Macrinus inclined his head in thanks as Istrode back over to Ocelus, proud that I could still hop aboard myhorse without help, despite still having a pronounced limp from mywound and preferring not to think about how much my height helped.I felt the eyes of the Legate glaring daggers at me, although I donot know whether it was because of my actions or my words.Unfortunately for him, not only was I unimpressed, I had one morestop to make. Just a few paces farther along, as it turned out,when we reached the end of the first rank of the 8^th,which, in a traditional formation, is composed of the first threeCenturies of the Fourth Cohort. Not surprisingly, this is how wearray for battle as well, so that no matter the occasion, a manknows his spot within his Century, and his Century's spot inrelation to the others of his Cohort. This time, I stopped themoment we pulled abreast of the First Century, Fourth Cohort, onemore throwing myself off Ocelus. Walking over, I ignored theimpatient