Prologue can be found on shared work, this is a snippet from chapter one
Chapter one - New Blood
Isca Dumnoniorum barracks
The sun had reached its full midday height when the new soldiers lined the parade square in their new equipment and armour. Marcus stood a full head in height above the other soldiers in the column. They had just been issued with their legionary issue equipment and tools from the armoury. Another hour in this heat will finish me off at this rate he thought sourly as sweat seeped down his back and sides. It had been sixteen weeks since the attack back home. Marcus had taken a risk by joining up with the legion, a good idea at the time he had thought; no home or family and no money. What other way was their? Become a gladiator? That was when he had realised the only way to seek vengeance against the barbarians was to become a legionary.
The soldier next to him leaned slightly towards him.
‘Where you from lad’ he asked in a thick Brittani accent
Marcus looked at him blankly; the man was a short thin native with a narrow rough face and piercing dark blue eyes.
‘Gaul, Portus Namnetum...why?’ he replied trying to hide the nervous tone in his voice. The rake like soldier chuckled in self amusement,
‘Talk to the centurion like that and you’ll be up on the walls in chains. Otho, Crixtus Otho’
‘Marcus Octavian, where are you –‘ Marcus was stopped short by a loud shout from the front rank. The column spontaneously burst to attention.
A short heavy built man in immaculate scale armour with a red plumbed helmet stood on the head parade pedestal at the fore of the column. The officer in the fancy armour stared into the neat column, his dark rimmed green eyes searching the lines of silver capped heads; he drew a deep breath filling his top heavy chest.
‘I am Augustus Airalies, Son of Tursius Airalies.’ he paused
‘So help me Emperor I will be the first and last face you thick shits will see in this life.’ He let the words settle for a long moment
‘This is the end of the empire, the farthest border. Defend it well and you will be my pride and fucking joy...but...if you even think of running from the battle.’ He raised a tight clenched fist with barred teeth. ‘You run... I will make you wish that screaming bitch that is your mother kept it closed.’
The older soldiers laughed or grinned at the middle aged centurion, Augustus raised a hand for silence, panning his vision left and right.
‘I will be the end of you, the fucker that executes you.’ He finished
Marcus looked to Otho with a raised eye brow
‘Told you so’ Otho remarked with a slight smile ‘Tough old bastard our Airalies...’
‘YOU, SOLDIER!’ Airalies stood pointing a thick finger right at Otho.’ Got something you want to fucking share half wit?’ he snarled with a look of fire in his dark rimmed pale green eyes. Airalies jumped down into the column, barging and shoving his way to Otho.
‘No sir, sorry sir.’ Otho snapped to attention. Airalies stood toe to toe glaring into the haggard mans eyes; the smell of nervous sweat pulsing from Otho was overwhelming for Marcus. Airalies lowered his tone to a near mumble.
‘Speak out of line again Otho... and I will –‘
‘It was my fault sir’ came a quiet voice, Airalies tore his head to address the new voice, it was Marcus.
‘You fucking what new blood!?’ he bellowed with a face red with freshly induced rage. Marcus felt his weight begin to buckle under the intense gaze of the centurion.
‘I-I-I’ he hopelessly uttered
‘Shut it! Now’ snapped Airalies
‘Yes sir’ Marcus felt utterly embarrassed by the encounter. No doubt I will be on shit scrubbing duty for the rest of my life he reflected.
Airalies half turned – holding his stare towards Otho then Marcus for a very long moment before walking back to the head of the column.
‘Back to the barracks. Rest, service your equipment...and have a fucking shave you barbarian pricks!’ he shouted over his broad metal clad shoulder.
In near perfect unison the column salute then dismissed.
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