=== Rome – 6 Months Earlier ===

"Yes, you are right Septimus. It's useless having this training yard and barracks without men to use them." Tacitus popped his knuckles and leaned over the railing of the second story guard common area. "I want a guard."

"You need one. The Tullians are a powerful name in Rome, and they deserve a unit that will command respect from all in the city."

Flaviana leaned in and wrapped an arm around her younger brother. "It would give you something to do that I know you'd enjoy!"

Tacitus remained leaning on the edge while his wife spoke to Septimus. She moved her arm from around his shoulder to his head where she tussled his locks. She leaned in closer to whisper, "...and I negotiated a wage to die for."

Septimus laughed, placing his hand on top of his older sister's, "You know me too well sister. I would be glad to construct the guard. Now there are just a few questions to decide." He turned, pulling Flavia's hand off his head and looking at her, smiling.

Tacitus stood up and paced himself around Flaviana to stand in front of Septimus. "The guard won't be solely in Rome, of course, law prohibits more than three hundred soldiers per private citizen. After they are trained and equipped to the best of your abilities they will be dispensed to the various regional family estates."

"That sounds good. In times like these, guards are needed everywhere. So how many men are we talking about in all?"

"The size of a first legionary cohort in all. I will leave the discussion of payment to your sister, but I am sure our purchase of your Belgican holdings didn't hurt your decision at all."

Septimus smiled, thankful for the Tullians’ purchase of his holdings in Gesoriacum; this way the people would be promised a good employer and a caring patron. "No, no, not at all. I'm glad to have had your help in that, by the way. It's not safe in the north for my family right now, but I would be glad to do all I can to keep you all safe."

He looked up at Tacitus, "Your father protected my father for many years; my family will never forget that."

"You've been part of this family for many months, enjoying the comforts of this house and all the contact to others it offers. I trust you will raise this guard in a location best suited for your safety and the best training imaginable." Tacitus furrowed his brow slightly, hoping Septimus would understand. "Our fathers were close because they understood each other and more importantly shared the same dream for the empire. I see that same dream in you."

Flaviana smiled with that, remembering everything in a flash. "I do wish you would stay here. The north is not safe, but here you are well looked after."

"Thank you sister, I know I will be looked after in Rome. But you know me, I'm not one to sit by and watch things happen. I think I will be leaving Rome for awhile. To act in this Civil Conflict that is forming."

"Priscanius Ispius will be here with my niece tonight, and you have yet to make good with your fathers relationship with their family. Stay tonight for dinner, leave tomorrow." Tacitus heaved a sigh and then looked at his wife, who was looking at him intently. He turned back to Septimus. "It should be stated clearly, so you don't have any need to question it, we do not believe what Lepidus and his allies say about you and his daughter. As for that, you have the entire Tullian family as your ally."

Septimus felt humbled by Tacitus's words, "Thank you dear friend. And I will always be here for you, that is a promise." He cleared his throat, "I would love to stay for dinner though; the palace's cook always serves fine foods.”

Flaviana smiled in agreement. The two men began speaking of political matters for awhile, boring Flaviana. Then Septimus changed the subject, “Well, I will surely begin working on your family's guard immediately. They will be feared, I can promise you that."

The word 'fear' brought a slight grin to Tacitus's face. He motioned without words with one hand toward the door into the main house and with the other lightly gave his wife a push in that direction. He kept his eyes on Septimus as his wife walked away. "Good."

=== One month later, Caralis, Sardinia ===


In the training yard of the citadel, Septimus looked out at almost one thousand young men from across the sea. They had been brought here to Sardinia to train and become one of the finest personal bodyguard forces of the age.

“You men have signed on to provide one of the most honored families in Rome with protection. The Tullian Vitellii have been serving Rome for generations and have done more for this Empire than most other families dream.” Septimus stepped down from the rostra and began walking among the recruits standing before him, “As long as you are in their employ, you men will serve this family to your dying breath. Should I ever hear of any man standing before me running from a hopeless fight or being negligent in their service to the Tullians, Mars himself won’t be able to stop me from bringing hell upon you and your family,” pausing a moment he let his words sink in. “With that said, I will give you the knowledge you need to become first rank soldiers. How to handle yourself in combat, how to spot ambushes, how to repel attackers from walls, we will teach you all of these things and more. Now, let us begin your training and the rest of your life.”
With a whistle, twenty four centurions rushed into the awaiting recruits. They yelled orders, began executing punishments, and enforced their authority from the very start. Septimus had hired a centurion for every 80 of the recruits and allowed each of them to choose an “optio” that would assist them in training their 80. The centuries had been formed ahead of time, and so they were split up immediately to begin their baptism by fire.


=== Hill to the North of Caralis, 1 Week Later ===

Eighty young men stood in first position – taught to them by their centurion only days before – at the bottom of a massive hill. Centurion Lucius Iunius stood before the Tullian Guards, “You men will know fear during your service to the Tullians. There will be times that you will be asked to protect their members against overwhelming odds and you will want to turn and run. But know that these people deserve your protection. They have earned it through generations of faithful service to Rome and Her people. I’m here right now to give you a taste of that fear.” Iunius looked up the hill to the waiting heavy cavalry at the top. With orders from Legate Varro, the 128 heavy cavalry from the 7th were assisting in the training today. “If you men move one muscle during this exercise, Pluto will greet you before the end of the day. Should you hold your nerve, then you will have faced one of the most terrifying things the enemy can throw at you. Hold your lines and all will be well. Break, and death can only follow.”

Iunius took his place at the forward right of the formation, his optio in the rear, watching for the first signs of cowardice. Once they both were in position, the centurion gave a signal to a cornacern close by. With one note 128 heavy cavalrymen began a slow trot down the hill.

The moments passed by like an eternity as the young boys watched these massive beasts thunder towards them. The riders – some of them in gleaming masks – looked like giants, Minotaurs of old. Faster and faster they came, moving from the slow trot to a thundering gallop. One or two of the recruits spilt the contents of their bladders across the sand but held their positions out of resolve in the unit. Centurion Iunius yelled out ‘encouragement’ to the young boys, “Hold yourselves of die!”

As the beasts approached, some in the back of the line began to take steps backward which brought a quick thud from the optio’s staff on the back of their armor, “Stay in line you yellow bastards!” he called out, successfully making them hold back any thoughts of running.

The century stood in an open ranks formation, something they would not be doing in battle, but this was not an exercise to practice for battle, it was an exercise meant to strike fear into the recruits – and it was working. The front line braced themselves for the imminent thunder of the horses. Boys closed their eyes and said silent and vocal prayers to the gods. Centurion Iunius smiled.


=== 3 Months Later, Carales Citadel ===

Centurion Iunius stood in front of a group of men drastically different from those who he had forced discipline onto at the bottom of the Carales hill. These men were a unit, a fighting force to be reckoned with. They had learned much in the last two months, the techniques of Roman legionaries, century and cohort fighting mechanics, how to combat specific threats such as cavalry, archers, and even phalanx’s. Now, the second phase of their training was about to begin; this phase that would take these men from normal fighting unit to elite bodyguards.

Iunius looked to his century, knowing every other centurion was giving the same speech to his men as well. Each century was on the same level of training, the ones who had been harder to teach than the others were simply given extra time to do it at the detriment of their eating and sleeping time. He lifted his hand for silence and the attention of the awaiting men, “Warriors!” he shouted to stir them up, “I do not say that with a light heart. You men have performed admirably during these many weeks past. I trust that you will do your duties well enough to be on par with all the other guards in the city…” the men before him began to boo and sound their disapproval to the mention of being like other city guards. The men had been told and trained to be better than the rest and they knew that they were meant to be legends in the city. “Enough” Iunius called. “So you men have no desire to be average?”

The men shouted “No!” back to their centurion.

Iunius smiled, “Very well then. From this day on, you will be facing challenges that will prepare you for many different situations that you’ll face ahead. Steel yourselves men, and save every ounce of strength you can; you’re going to need it.”


=== The Compound – Outside of Carales ===

It had been five nights of continued siege; no real night’s sleep, no letting up, no stop to the constant torture of distractions and fire. The Tullian Guards were being held up – as part of their “Second Phase” training – in a walled compound outside Carales. It was made to resemble a villa or other building they would be defending in a long siege: walls, buildings (both stone and wood), and gate.

All the men in the exercise were equipped with wooden gladii, real scotum and armor. The guards were under a constant barrage from artillery pieces (fired directly into the wall to keep the men inside awake and under a constant barrage of noise – as well as fired pots – fired short of the actual compound or completely over it to get them used to the large flamed explosions. Also, they didn’t have an extra large food and water supply – barely enough for a week. With no idea when the siege would end, the men had to severely ration their supply.

If the bolts from scorpions and exploding jars of oil weren’t enough, the legionaries of the 7th Antiqua made sorties against the fortification both with a battering ram – succeeding once and letting the guards drive them back after a few hours of struggling – and with ladders – to which they threw back the young legionary recruits. Septimus watched from afar as parts of the compound burned. He knew the guards inside were going through hell; They would be hungry, exhausted, irritable, and Septimus knew they could take more. “Centurion Iunius,” he called back over his shoulder, “take some men from your century and go with the next wave against the walls. Give those guardsmen a treat. Stick, even when I recall the rest of the recruits, I want your men to stay.”

Lucius smiled wide, “Yes Sir.” He had been training these guards for weeks; he knew the century he personally trained was inside the compound somewhere along with all the others. But he was glad to get back to his own men. As the century formed, he knew this was Legate Varro’s last push against the Tullian Guards and he was glad to be at the tip of the wedge.


=== 2 Days Later, Carales Citadel ===

Septimus stood in front of the recruits; many of them were still bruised and beaten from the previous week’s siege action. Now the time had come for their next assignment. “You men will be broken up into three groups with four centuries each. You will each be given a destination to escort your mock patrons to. Be ready for anything. Now, see you at your destinations.”

Along the route, cavalry ambushes occurred, infantry ambushes from concealed locations, and even some archer attacks – using arrows studded with wooden blunt tips. The men had to deal with each situation and learn from their mistakes. Iunius reminded them, “out there” as he said, it would only take one.


=== Present Day, Caralis Citadel ===

Septimus stood in front of exactly 948 men; as hard as they could be without true battlefield experience, but he knew all had been done to prepare them for that moment. Only 12 recruits had been lost during training and their centuries had simply been left men down. Before the end though, Septimus had only a few final words to say to the Tullian Guards.

“You men have surpassed my expectations during your months here. I suppose that means that my expectations were too low, but I assure each and every one of you that the expectations of the Tullians will not be as low. I will write to them, telling them of what you have done here and what to expect when you reach Rome and your different postings. As well, I will write to each of your families, telling them of your triumphs.” Septimus paused, taking in a deep breath and letting it go, “Now, go, begin your lives anew. And remember the things you have learned here. Centurions! Take charge and march to the docks!”

While the centurions took charge of their men, Septimus smiled proudly as he watched them, with their few belongings, march out of the citadel and towards the docks in Carales. He knew that he had done his best to train an elite group of private guards, and that wherever they were posted they would rival the imperial garrisons themselves. With a sigh of contentment, Septimus watched the last century march from the citadel and out of his life.


Written By: P. Septimus Varro with RP from Ferus Juventas

Edited By: Ferus Juventas
115 AD