Final Campaign

hehad no idea where he was. Troubled, I finally went to my own tent,where Diocles and Agis were waiting to help me out of my armor. Tootired to go to the baths, I stood as they scraped me down, cleaningmy body, taking care not to open the wound on my side, stillwrapped as it was. Neither of them said much, but there was atension in the air that was palpable. Diocles and Agis exchangedfurtive glances, then I caught Diocles giving the other slave ashake of his head at one point, but I was too tired to questioneither of them about it. Once I was clean, Diocles brought me afresh tunic, while Agis prepared a light meal. Finally, I was ableto sit and relax, and felt the tension of the day drain away,munching on a piece of bread smeared with garum and some cheese,washing it down with wine that was perilously close to beingvinegar, but I did not mind. It was no worse than the stuff I haddowned over the years in so many different places, in so manydifferent camps that it was impossible to count. Eating my lightmeal, I noticed that it was oppressively quiet as well as tense,and I slowly realized that neither Diocles nor Agis were pepperingme with questions about the battle like they normally did. Lookingaround, I saw that Agis was nowhere to be seen, and Diocles wassitting at his small desk, seemingly absorbed in reading somescroll. Pushing aside my meal, I turned about to face Diocles,knowing that something was wrong, yet not sure what it was.Deciding to go about it obliquely, I asked him, “Have you seenScribonius, by any chance?”

“Yes.”

A terse, one word answer was all I got. Ah,I thought, there is the sore under Diocles’ saddle. Now how tolance it? I cleared my throat, a trait Diocles has told me isalways an indication that I am about to discuss something I finduncomfortable. Before I could get a word out, however, Dioclesstopped reading his scroll, placing it on his desk to give me adirect look.

“Before you speak, Master, may I saysomething?”

Every fiber of my body told me that I shouldsay no. Then I decided that the least I could do was to take somepunishment, knowing that I deserved it. I indicated that he couldspeak, knowing that he would speak freely, from his heart. He rose,dragging his stool to place it directly across from me so that hecould look me in the eye, albeit by looking upward.

“For what I’m about to say, Master, I fullyexpect that you’ll have me whipped, at the very least,” he saidquietly. “But it must be said, and I know that Master Scriboniuswill never speak of it.”

This was shaping up to be much worse than Ithought, and I found myself wondering what Diocles could possiblysay that would anger me so much. I suppose that I could havestopped him there, but I did not. Even now, several years later, Iam still not sure that I made the right decision.

“Go ahead, get it out if it’s so important,”I said with a bit more asperity than I intended.

“You asked if I had seen Master Scribonius,and I have, but I want you to know that he did not speak a word tome about what happened when he returned with the Tribune.”

“You know about that?”

I was surprised, although I do not knowwhy.

“Everyone in the army knows about it,” hereplied quietly, his gaze never leaving mine, and in doing soimparting much more meaning than his words alone. I stifled agroan, angry at myself for my fit of temper.

“I suppose that Scribonius is angry with me,and he has every right to be,” I mused, but Diocles shook hishead.

“He’s not angry with you, Master. He’sshattered because he knows he let you down. He knew it before youever opened your mouth.”

“I was angry,” I said defensively. “And Ididn’t think before I spoke.”

Even as I said it, I knew that this was aslimp an excuse as my member is nowadays. Diocles said nothing for amoment, looking at me with a mixture of sadness and reproach thatwounded me more than his words. At least, so I thought before hecontinued.

“Master, if I had a denarius for every timeI’ve heard you say that, I would have been able to buy both myfreedom and Agis’ years ago. But it’s part of who you are, andwe’ve learned to accept it. It’s one thing when you do it to Agisor me, but Master, you have used Master Scribonius ill for much toolong. You have never had, nor will you ever have a friend asfaithful and honorable as Master Scribonius, and that’s coming fromsomeone who loves you and serves you well, with every part of mybeing.”

I sat listening in silence, but while I did,I was sure that with every word Diocles spoke, he was somehowreaching my eye level. I do not know if it was because of how smallI felt, or how large his courage in speaking to his master in thismanner made him. If he had reached over to slap me across the face,he could not have had a greater effect on me.

“And he has never asked you for anything,other than your friendship,” Diocles was continuing, his tone calm,but I could see the tremor in his hands, despite keeping them inhis lap.

“He has overlooked your fits of temper, andhe’s always given you wise and good counsel. He decided long beforeI came into your service to subordinate his ambitions to followyou, but in the years since I’ve been with you, I’ve never seen himwaver in his friendship towards you.”

I closed my eyes to break Diocles’ gaze, afeeling of such intense shame washing over me that it threatened tocause me to eject the contents of the meal I had just partiallyconsumed. I heard him take a deep breath, and somehow I knew thateven worse was coming.

“But what you did today, Master, shamingyour very best friend in front of the other Evocati, is somethingthat I never thought you would do, even with your temper. Did younot think that he already felt badly