“I know, but I still wish…”
Ambeltrix chuckled. “I know, son. I do.”
“Well, I’ve ordered extra dinner for this evening and then a feast for tomorrow evening to welcome you home and to welcome Ariazate and Tigran to the family,” Verlia said, sweeping in from the kitchen to take her place by her son, her presence pushing away the dark thoughts about his future. “Now why don’t you go take your armor off and go to the baths. You smell like iron and horses.”
“Yes, mother.”
EPILOGUE 125 CE
Princeps Primus Centurio Lucius Silvanius Ferrata waved off the small squad of men he’d brought with him to stalk Roma’s streets that night. He’d brought the I Cohort with him to Roma, leaving the other cohorts near Ravenna to await his orders while he followed a nest of the blood drinking di inferi toward Roma.
When he’d turned up in Roma eight years ago after being charged by Mithras, Sol Invictus, and Luna, though he always preferred to think of her as Selene, Hadrian and the pater patrum who served him raised Lucius up to lead his own legion of men charged with protecting the empire from the dark creatures who preyed on humans. To separate him from the power structure of the legions, they declared him the first and best of centurions—Princeps Primus Centurio. He reported only to the emperor but was allowed near complete autonomy. To maintain that autonomy so he could carry out his mission, he swore an oath by the gods to never participate in a civil war or a rebellion. And because of the oaths he’d sworn, he was the only legionary commander allowed to bring armed men into the city, though he was only allowed to bring a single cohort.
“Hold up, Centurio,” Tullius whispered. “I hear troops coming.”
They ducked into the shadows, pulling their black cloaks around them as the sound of hobnailed caligae and jingling gear announced the approach of soldiers. When Lucius saw the black transverse crest of one of his centurions, he exhaled in relief, his men relaxing around him.
“Report, Tasciovanus,” Lucius ordered.
“Centurio.” Tasciovanus gave a quick salute. “Praesutagus is giving the Praetorians a merry chase.”
Lucius chuckled. “Excellent.”
The Praetorians, the emperor’s guards and the only legionnaires previously allowed to carry weapons in Roma, took offense to the same honor being extended to Lucius’s legion. So on the few occasions Lucius brought his men near the imperial city, the Praetorians took it upon themselves to follow the Princeps Primus Centurio around as if he were going to get up to mischief.
Since Lucius didn’t want to be trailed, he’d assign men to distract the Praetorians and lead them around. It had become a competition among the men to see who could lead them the farthest astray.
“Do you sense anything, Centurio?” Tasciovanus asked.
“I think so, my friend.” He tried to extend out his sense of the de inferi, the drinkers of blood, as some of his men had taken to calling them. He wasn’t quite used to being able to feel his enemy and hadn’t encountered many since gaining the ability from Mithras. He’d spent the first few years after being promoted by Hadrian recruiting and building his legion of elite hunters. During that time, he’d seen very few of the creatures in the western reaches of the empire. It had only been the last few months that the di inferi had appeared within the empire in greater numbers.
Once he thought he had the bearing down, he picked up his black scutum with the four narrow triangular spikes pointing from each corner toward the central boss. “Form up. Let’s look professional.”
The sixteen men he’d brought with him for tonight’s expedition stepped out of the shadows and formed ranks five deep with Lucius taking the lead and Centurio Tasciovanus bringing up the rear. A few of the men had the same spikes on their black shield like their leader, but most sported the plain black field that all new recruits to the legion received on being judged worthy of the elite unit.
As they marched through Roma’s streets like soldiers on patrol, Lucius absentmindedly swished the vinerod that was the symbol of his rank as a centurion. Though he could have abandoned it upon his elevation by Hadrian to the empire’s lead centurion and the commander of his own elite legion, he kept it to remember his place in the world. Often a centurion was the highest rank a common legionnaire could achieve without noble blood or high connections, and Lucius was a common barbarian from the far north.
His senses drew him deeper into the poor part of Roma, becoming stronger and more intense. Creatures dashed around the corner and burst from the apartment buildings in front of them. Lucius caught the first one in the face with the vinerod, snapping it off as it ripped away a part of the di inferi’s cheek with it.
“Four wide!” he called, yanking his gladius from its scabbard.
He let the next one crash up against his men’s raised shields and took the one behind it, quickly lopping off an arm while knocking a third down with his scutum. As he stepped closer to the downed creature, he brought the scutum’s edge down hard on its face, crushing it.
The creatures swarmed around Lucius, trying to avoid the fury of the Princeps Primus Centurio of the Black Legion, as they were called, even though they had an official designation from Hadrian of I Aelia, named after Hadrian’s family. When Lucius placed a thrust perfectly into the heart of a charging monster, it exploded into a powdery dust. The second one he permanently ended by catching in the back as it dodged past him to take a try at his men. It burst into a splat of reddish-black goo, showering the shields and the men behind them.
“Sorry about that,” he called, bringing his gladius around to take a head.
When they got to the intersection, four of his men swung out wide to block off the escape path to the north. As they herded the remaining blood drinkers toward a dead end, a few tried running or breaking into one of the buildings along the ground floor, but the windows and doors had all been shut tight against the obvious sounds of violence on the streets.
After Lucius’s other centurion called for a line switch to get the last group of men to the front, they hacked down the final di inferi. Lucius stood, breathing heavily and looking around to make sure they hadn’t missed any and that none of the wounded were recovering fast enough to cause more mayhem.
“Well done.” Lucius nodded to his men.
All sixteen stood. They’d assess injuries later, but everyone looked ambulatory and fine.
“You give the order, sir,” Tasciovanus said.
“Black shields, find a body and stake it through the heart. If you can, find the one you put down. Fang shields, make sure they don’t botch it.” Lucius grabbed a ragged cloak from the ground, wiped his gladius on it, then sheathed it.
He knelt on the ground next to a body he’d decapitated and pulled the wooden rudis from his other scabbard. Having never had a chance to use its full abilities, now would be the time. The few di inferi they’d encountered had been dispatched quickly and efficiently in the name of training by overly enthusiastic soldiers eager to earn their spikes. But now there were plenty of bodies, and the urge to use the rudis had been steadily growing, becoming a constant nagging refrain in his mind, where before it hadn’t seemed the most urgent priority.
With a two-handed reverse grip, he plunged it into the heart of the creature. Unlike a simple wooden stake, the creature didn’t start its final decay into either powder or sludge. Lucius inhaled and exhaled, closing his eyes. He lowered his head, placing his forehead on the silver button at the end of the wooden ball pommel. The words Mithras imprinted on his heart in the temple in the mountains of Armenia flashed through his mind. Haltingly, he recited the incantation, not knowing what would happen when he finished.
A silvery-white light slithered down the handle and over the wood of the blade, sliding around the silver cutting edge as well as the beautiful silver filigree until it disappeared into the chest of the creature and reemerged a moment later, retracing its course.
When the light disappeared into Lucius’s forehead, a surge went through his body. His heart rate picked up, and energy tore through him. Standing, he felt ready to take on an entire legion of the di inferi single handedly. Everything in the dark deadend looked brighter and crisper, as if all the details were just now made available to his eyes. Even the sounds around him seemed clearer than they had before. He repeated the process on another nearby body.
After draining the second di inferi, he vibrated.
He jolted to attention at the slightest scrape against the stone street. Hands and feet scrabbled to get its severely damaged body upright. Lucius whipped around in time to see one of the creatures use its brutal claws to swipe the leg of one of his men in its mad dash to get away. The creature moved faster than any human had a right to, far beyond anything the finest athletes could achieve. Soon, it had opened some distance between itself and the legionnaires it had caught flat-footed.
Lucius, not even thinking about what he was doing, tore after it. As quick as an antelope, he burst out of the alley and after the creature. It must have thought it had gotten away from the sluggish humans and slowed down, but when it heard the slap of leather and click of iron hobnails on stone right behind it, it gave every bit of supernatural speed it had to the chase. Lucius gained on it.
When it flashed its head around to see how close Lucius was, Lucius saw a look of pure terror, the first such glimpse of fear he’d seen from the creatures who looked with disdain at any who weren’t among their number. The whimpering sounds of its fear brought a smile to Lucius’s face. He remembered the bitter taste of the terror they’d inflicted on him and his men in the mountains of Armenia. Now it was time for them to be the ones afraid to go into the night.
As he brought his rudis down low to swipe at its hamstring, the di inferi went down hard, landing on its face with a groan. Skidding to a halt, Lucius plunged the rudis into its heart, repeated the incantation, and drained his third creature in as many minutes.
