Free Soldier of Rome: The Last Campaign (The Artorian Chronicles) by James Mace Page B

ordo have scarcely held their billets longer than Magnus and Praxus. The chief tribune is eager enough, but like all young senators who acquire this posting, he is young and inexperienced. And as for our commanding legate, well let’s just say he does not exactly command respect from the ranks.”
    “Who is he?”
    “His name is Lucius Glabrio,” Metellus answered. “He means well, but his greatest weakness is his age. He’s at least twice as old as any of his peers in the Rhine army and probably has grandchildren my age! He also has little to no experience at all. Honestly, I have no idea how he got the position, given how the patricians will practically knife each other in the back in order to get command of a legion. I feel bad, because he’s an agreeable enough fellow and even friendly with the lads. Thing is, the men don’t need a friend. They need a commanding general who can lead them in battle. But since we don’t have that, it was decided we would influence the leadership within the legion as best we could, and that was by selecting a primus pilus that the centurions have confidence in and who our legionaries will follow. And just so you know, there wasn’t even a runoff vote. You garnered more than sixty percent of the vote right from the start. Your two competitors even consented that you were the best choice to guide the Twentieth in whatever endeavors the emperor may send us on.”
    As his son spoke, Artorius read and then reread the order, still in shock at how his life was suddenly turned upside down.
    “This is all unexpected ,” Artorius said after a few moments of silence. “I honestly don’t know what to say.”
    “I t’s what you wanted, isn’t it?”
    “It is,” Diana answered for him as she stepped through the archway. “Forgive me, but you two were gone for a while, and I thought I’d better check on you.” She then walked over and took her husband by the hand.
    “You’re not opposed to leaving home for the Rhine again?” Artorius asked.
    “Home is wherever you are, my dear,” Diana replied, kissing him gently.
    “There will be much to do before we leave,” Artorius noted, still trying to grasp what had just transpired. He then added with a chuckle, “I don’t suppose we’ll be able to buy back our old manor house in Cologne.”
     

     
    Among the dispatches Metellus brought with him were the official notifications to the government bureaucracies that oversaw the appointment of public magistrates, and in light of Artorius’ recall to the legions, a replacement was named for him as prefect of the Ostia vigiles almost immediately. The house he and Diana stayed at was owned by the government and was for the prefect, so there was no need to worry about the strain that came from trying to sell. And at the legion fortress on the Rhine, the master centurion had his own rather spacious house, which would suit them unless they decided to find someplace larger away from the fortress.
    “A rather painless transition,” Artorius’ replacement, whose name escaped him, noted.
    “Just a matter of signing all the necessary documents that relieve me of responsibility for the vigiles and passing it on to you,” he replied. “My household goods will be ready to move within a week, though the army has given me a month to make preparations before I have to start my journey back to the Rhine.”
    It was beautiful, sunny day, and they had the shutters open as well as the main doors leading from the office. The new prefect was looking out the window when he saw a young woman walking towards the entrance to their building.
    “Well, fancy that,” he said with a grin. “There’s a pretty thing. Do you know her?”
    “Can’t say that I do,” Artorius replied as the woman walked into the building. He went back to signing documents when one of the vigiles escorted the young woman in.
    “This lass is here to see you, sir,” he said to Artorius.
    “Very well.” He then looked to his