“You can still call me Syphax when we’re in private or with the other centuriones.”
Lucius chuckled. “Sure, Syphax. Do you wish me to fetch Zyraxes for you?”
“I would. The last of the supplies are arriving later today, so we’ll be ready to march out tomorrow. But, before you go fetch Zyraxes, you’ll need to change your crest.” Syphax reached behind him and grabbed a crest with spiky black horsehair.
“Black?”
“I’ve decided to change our cohort’s colors now that we’ve been detached from the I Adiutrix.” Syphax handed Lucius the crest. “Though, we’ll keep our winged horse.”
Grinning broadly at his first centurion’s crest, Lucius pulled the two optio feathers from their slots over each ear, then removed the front-to-back optio’s crest and replaced them with the transverse centurion’s crest that went over the top of the helmet from ear to ear.
“The black crest looks excellent, Centurio Ferrata. I’ve ordered all the scutums to be painted black. They’ll look sharp with a white pegasus in the center. They should dry fast enough in this heat so we’ll be ready to march. After you find Zyraxes, inform the other centuriones I wish to meet here to discuss our final preparations. We’ll also need to arrange a visit to the local Mithraeum to seek Mithras’s blessing before we march.” Syphax stood.
“Perhaps we can get some clarity on these di manes and di inferi.” Lucius joined Syphax on his feet and gave his commander a crisp salute. He was skeptical of their mission, but hopefully their visit to the Mithraeum would bring clarity.
“Again, congratulations, my friend. You’ve earned it.” Syphax clasped Lucius’s hand.
“Thank you for your trust, and thank you for guiding me along to this place.” Lucius smiled and nodded.
Syphax patted Lucius on the back as the younger man went off to carry out his orders.
THREE
Lucius and Zyraxes stood respectfully behind the other centurions, even though technically, Lucius outranked them all save for the primus pilus. They were the two newest centurions in the cohort, and Lucius was uncomfortable with his new rank coupled with the responsibility he’d accepted from Syphax. While the older centurions chatted, Lucius and Zyraxes stood awkwardly, listening to their officers speaking with Antiochia’s wealthy patrons of Mithras.
He couldn’t tell what Zyraxes thought about his new situation, but a part of Lucius felt like he didn’t belong there, not in the position he’d been entrusted with. Lucius looked around the wealthy neighborhood, admiring the marble construction and statues. The city’s privileged competed in their displays of ostentatious wealth, both in their personal dress and adornment and in the flashy paint and other decorations on their houses, announcing to anyone who saw that they were important and deserved their place among the elite.
Lucius and his fellow centurions waited for admission into Antiochia’s Mithraeum as the day’s heat dissipated into more comfortable evening temperatures. Drusus Gracchus felt Lucius and Syphax needed to make an appearance to seek the favor of Mithras before departing on the strange mission to fight some otherworldly enemy of Roma, and Syphax agreed. Lucius never minded fulfilling his responsibilities to the gods; it seemed the least he could do to keep them from finding him too interesting and deciding to interfere in his life. If seeking the blessing of Mithras and his priests helped smooth their way through a country about to experience a turbulent change as Roman troops withdrew and Parthians stepped into the power vacuum, he’d be there and pray fervently. Besides, the food served at the end of the service would likely be excellent judging by the wealth of the Mithraeum’s location and its attendees.
When the doors opened, Lucius followed the pater patrum down the stairs to the sub ground floor and into the Mithraeum’s antechamber. Once they were safely ensconced in the Mithraeum, they pulled on their robes and other accoutrements that accompanied their rank and position within the mysteries of Mithras. The higher one’s rank, the more elaborate the embroidery and decoration. Robes of the pater and pater patrum were the most elaborate with metallic threads sew in and covered in jewels. They displayed the symbols of the person’s rank. As a miles, the third rank, Lucius’s robe was simple, symbols of a soldier embroidered around his chest, shoulders and back—helmets, lances, drums, a cingulum belt as well other symbols sacred to Mars.
Lucius had been introduced to the mysteries of Mithras when he’d been transferred into Syphax’s command, later learning that it was part of the orders transferring him from his original legion—XXX Ulpia Victrix—to the new elite cohort nominally attached to the I Adiutrix. Syphax had told Lucius that Trajan had been instructed by Mithras to form the elite force, according to the pater patrum who represented Trajan’s interests with the mysteries of Mithras. Lucius was still learning about all the aspects of the god who’d become popular with the soldiers. Though he was a new god in the west, he made appearances under many names in the religions of Persians, Parthians, and Armenians. It was rumored that the worship of Mithras even extended deeper into the east into the mysterious lands even Alexander hadn’t conquered.
Like all initiates into the mysteries, Lucius had first joined as a corax, the first level. Now, he entered the Mithraeum as a miles. Syphax held the fifth rank of Perses. As soon as they finished changing, Syphax led his men into the Mithraeum.
Antiochia’s Mithraeum was older than the ones in the western parts of the empire. The mysteries of Mithras had spread out of the east, out of Persia and India and had stopped off in Antiochia before making their way west and into the legions and upper echelons of Roma’s elite.
Rows of benches jutted out from the white marble walls painted with elaborate frescoes depicting scenes of Mithras’s adventures and legends. As they strolled two abreast down the central aisle with Lucius bringing up the rear, people stood and bowed to them. Lucius had never had this happen before. Perhaps word of their mission to defend Mithras had spread through the Mithraeum’s ranks. But when he looked down, the symbols on his robes glowed with a silvery gold light. As they approached the front, the occupants in the first rows stood, bowed, and moved to different benches. After Syphax and the other five centurions sat, Lucius joined them, taking the edge of the bench to the left.
With the seven legionnaires seated, the rest of the room took their benches. As if that were his cue, the pater patrum stepped in front of the altar. The marble bull scene, the legend of Mithras’s slaying of the great world bull, was one of the most magnificent Lucius had ever seen. Mithras looked resplendent in a bright red coat and blue Phrygian hat as he hauled back on the head of a muscular black bull, using the bull’s nostrils for leverage. Both god and the bull were covered in gems and precious metals that caught the flickering light of oil lamps, creating a dancing effect.
The background was painted on one side to reflect the bright blue sky of day, while the other represented the dark night and where they met, the blending twilight of day and night. Sol Invictus, the unconquered sun, flew through the day sky in his sun chariot pulled by four white horses. In the night sky, Luna drove her moon chariot across the starry night fields, her chariot pulled by two great oxen.
He’d always preferred to finish his inspection of Mithras slaying the bull with Luna’s corner, though he’d adopted her Hellenic name of Selene as his preferred means of address to the goddess. In his time away from his family, he’d grown fond of the moon and her goddess. Selene driving her moon chariot across the night sky brought a constancy to his life. No matter what province’s sky he looked upon, Selene watched over him with her gentle silvery light.
The pater patrum spoke, “Brothers, we are most blessed to see off our fine warriors on a mission from divine Mithras. Blessed is their bravery as they seek to protect Mithras from his enemies. Join me as we raise them up in Mithras’s honor.” He raised his arms. “Syphax Quietus, rise and proceed to the altar,” the pater patrum called out.
Syphax stood and stepped up to the altar, placing his hand on the blade of Mithras’s sword where it plunged into the neck of the bull.
“Perses Quietus…” The pater patrum asked Syphax a series of liturgical questions, which he answered with the ritual words. When they finished, Syphax turned to the room as the pater patrum raised his arms again. “Now go forth, Heliodromus Quietus, and do Mithras’s bidding.”
One by one, the pater patrum raised each of the remaining centurions one rank each. The first three centurions were all raised to Leo. Bamilcar was raised to Miles, and Zyraxes was raised to the second rank of Nymphus.
“Miles Lucius Silvanius Ferrata,” called the pater patrum.
When Lucius rose and stepped to the altar, he collapsed onto his knees, the weight of divine notice falling heavy on his shoulders. Closing his eyes, he reached out and touched the spot where the others had before him.
“Raise your head, brave soldier,” a gentle feminine voice said.
When Lucius lifted his head and opened his eyes, Selene looked down at him, eyes brimming with kindness. The goddess was tall, nearly rising to the ceiling of the barrel-vaulted Mithraeum. Upon her brow, she wore a crescent moon that glowed so brightly Lucius had to squint to see her beautiful, dark hair. Pale arms reached out from the shimmering silver-gray folds of the silky himation she wore.
His heart opened in wonder. He’d always paid the gods the honor they were due, but more out of casual respect than true devotion. When one had to travel through the lands of so many gods, it made no sense to draw their ire, but this was the first time Lucius had ever truly felt a divine presence.
Selene’s delicate moonlight suffused him, leaching out his fears and insecurities and filling him with love and appreciation.
Lucius bowed his head respectfully. “My Mistress.”
“I have observed you as you’ve watched me cross the night sky. I wished to see the soldier whose loyal devotion has reached me even in the heavens. You are already strong and brave, my loyal soldier, but if you seek wisdom and are thoughtful, we shall meet again in the days to come. Know that I have marked you as mine. Rise with my blessing upon your heart.” The light around Selene faded as she receded into the corner representing night.
Selene had commanded his complete attention; he hadn’t heard a thing the pater patrum had said, which meant he hadn’t answered his liturgical questions. He expected to have to repeat them.
“Rise, Perses Ferrata, servant of Luna, and serve Mithras’s will.” The pater patrum’s voice shook as he spoke.
When Lucius rose from his knees, he turned and stopped. Everyone in the room was on their knees, a look of wonderment in their eyes. The pater patrum’s face had paled in shock. Lucius’s eyes darted about the room nervously, as every set of eyes followed his movements. His audience with the goddess hadn’t been private.
Syphax cleared his throat, drawing the attention away from Lucius—something for which he was deeply grateful—and stood. Lucius’s comrades followed suit. Soon, the rest of the room joined them in ones and twos until everyone was on their feet. The pater patrum stood still until Syphax nudged him in the side with his elbow.
