=== Camp of Propraetor Lucius Tacitus Vitellius, NE Hispania Province ===

Tacitus awoke startled. The yelling itself was loud, but the noise unheard outside of an arena was what really woke him. The loud roaring and constant growling had hairs on his neck standing up as he jumped from his bed. ‘A bear, in camp?’ he thought, quickly belting on his gladius. The dim flicker of an oil lamp burning was as his only source of light at the moment, and was not enough to block the flare of torches seeping through the walls of his tent. He threw open the door half expecting it to all be a dream or a play of soldiers, but he was wrong.

Half a dozen of his personal guards were trying to herd a massive brown bear into a group of legionnaires waiting with their swords drawn, shouting for the kill. The bear was ferociously fighting back, easily batting away the swords of the Tullian Guard before another was jabbed in it’s place to push the bear back. Its teeth were long and white, and its claws were visible even in the flicking torchlight; Six inches of fierce offense on each toe. Tacitus froze in place at the sight of the beast. He immediately noted how the animal was easily the size of his four largest soldiers.

As quickly as he had awoken, and as quickly as the bear could roar like a lion while batting away the surrounding blades, the beast locked his sight onto him and with a roar louder and throatier than any before it, broke through the elite guard of the propraetor and charged him. It was as if time had frozen around him and the bear - and only them- while he failed to run and the bear failed to slow it’s charge. Just as the bear was upon him, time began again and without thinking Tacitus drew his gladius and with the carnal strength of self-preservation thrust his sword upward into the oncoming bear. It didn’t stop it- instead the bear slashed his claws across the left side of the Tacitus, cutting him deeply along his skull and down his shoulder. His eyes widened with sudden hot searing pain and his mouth fell open in a fearful quiver as the bear reared up taller than it had before and with an obvious tone of pain, roared ferociously as it came down onto the propraetor again.

Tacitus dropped to his knees but kept his eyes on the looming bear, unable to scurry away for the throbbing immobility running down his left side. He saw the white of the bears eyes and the snarling, foaming mouth filled with vicious teeth as it came crashing toward him, when suddenly the bear groaned and looked unexpectedly confused. Its arms went limp and then collapsed on top of Tacitus in a heavy, hot ‘thud’. The soldiers of the legion and the rest of his personal guard swarmed around their commander as the dust settled, only mere seconds after he exited his tent to see what the commotion was, and saw that the bear was laying across Tacitus leaving only his wounded side exposed.

Standing out of the bear, where it was only moments before roaring into Tacitus’s face, stood a spear, quivering itself still from being freshly launched. Behind the spear, at the foot of the bear, Tacitus and the rest of the surrounding soldiers saw their legate- Carus Florianus Julianus. The young soldier stood there as if he was Achilles himself, posed in a way that he could assail the bear again should it rise from it’s fatal resting place atop Tacitus. For a moment the pain grinding it’s way through Tacitus’s body disappeared as he lifted his head and smiled with relief, then collapsed unconscious with a heavy sigh.

=== Three Days Prior, IV Fidelis, Baetica ===

Flavius Porcius Camillus walked around the camp of legio IV Fidelis as he inspected the training as per Legate Tribius Martelius’s orders. As an Adiuvator, and as was typical in IV Fidelis, Porcius was a patrician who lived close by the camp in Baetica, and during the routine training sessions he and his other officer friends would typically chat amongst themselves. In their eyes, seeing as it was a Consular legion the training was typically more laid back so it was ok.

Among his closer friends were Julius Calidrus Pius, another Adiuvator just a year younger than him, and the newly appointed Tribune Lucius Decimus Carus. They were standing together a few yards away from a group of soldiers sparring. The clang of the swords almost put a tempo to their conversation.

“So Raeus and the ‘Wolf’ certainly did a number on those Goths. I bet you he’s got to be a mad man in battle!” Calidrus exclaimed to Porcius.

“Hah! I’ll say! I’m sure he’d be a fun guy to have a drink with after a battle too. I’ve heard that Raeus is a little more reserved and he’s not too much of a talker but that you feel safe going into battle under him,” Porcius replied. He admired the loyalty of the Praetorian Prefect to two Emperors.

As he said this Decimus approached his friends from the opposite direction. Their conversation was interrupted as the Tribune quickly yelled at some of the other men who were horsing around during their training, “Hey! Get back in line! What do you think this is play time?!”

Now standing next to his friends, Decimus greeted them with a smile. “...And what are you two doing?”

Porcius laughed, “Oh Decimus, lighten up a bit buddy. You’re not going to make Tribunus Laticlavius by being harsh at training. It’s not like we’re off fighting the Goths or something here in Hispania.”

Calidrus joined Porcius in a laugh as Decimus stood still with a sly grin. “Oh yeah?” Decimus began, “Well I just received word from Martelius that we’re heading to Tarraconensis tomorrow.”

Porcius looked at Calidrus who also held a puzzled look, and asked, “Wait, why would we be going to Tarraconensis?”

“I don’t know, I don’t even think the Legate knows. We’ll just have to find out when we get there.”


=== Next Day ===

The next morning the legion was up bright and early as Legate Martelius rallied his officers together to get ready for the march. While he was talking to the men Porcius couldn’t help but stare at the legate’s left arm. Apparently he had injured it somehow and because of it he actually couldn’t move it- it hung limp. It made Porcius wonder how the man could actually fight if the legion ever had to, but historically the legion hadn’t seen much action since it was last formed, so he assumed it was just that nobody cared. It was easy for Porcius and others to let their thoughts wander like that during a meeting with their Legate, because he was fairly monotone and not the most dynamic speaker (or person), but they all did their best.

By the afternoon the men were already marching and Porcius took the time to enjoy the landscape of Hispania. The sun was out and it was a perfect day for a march though the threat of the regular winter rains circled around them. It was late fall, so many of the trees the men passed by were different colors making way for a more enjoyable walk for the men. During the march Legate Tribius Martelius rode alongside Porcius as he greeted him.

“Fine day for a march is it not, Adiuvator Camillus?”

Porcius smiled at the Legate. “It certainly is.” he replied.

“Yes, it’s a nice change of pace for once, having the legion move from Baetica. I’ve traveled to many parts of the Empire- you should leave Hispania someday when you get the chance, there are many great places to see within Rome’s borders,” Martelius exclaimed, slightly talking down to his subordinate. Martelius had grown accustomed to spending time with the elite in Baetica, such as the Tacitan Disii, and the Tullian Julii, as well as others, that over time had caused him to think more highly of himself than his Plebeian birth could justify.

“Well perhaps when my time in the army is finished, I’ll take your word up on that sir.” Porcius replied dryly.

Legate Martelius nodded with a quick grin and rode ahead of the formation and the men continued to move on.

=== Two Days Later, 200 miles NW of IV Fidelis ===

An Eques Speculator raced down along the main road which connected the provinces of Hispania and Tarraconensis. They were returning to the large body of Romans marching towards them from Propraetor Tacitus Vitellius. The Eques Speculator had news: He'd spotted a raiding party of Lusones which had pushed far south over the Iber river- The boundary with which the Lusones and Roman settlers had agreed on over a century before.

The legion’s commander was Legate Carus Florianus Julianus, a senator in his late twenties who claimed descent from Emperor Sarius Honorius Julianus; Wether there was a direct lineage was up to speculation as the family had settled in Hispania over three generations ago. Florianus himself was born in Equestris, current seat of the Propraetor’s administration in central Hispania province. The scout rushed up to Florianus who was toward the rear of the marching legion.

"Two hunred hundred Lusones, give or take, cavalry and infantry raiding a villa two miles northwest off the road from here," The Eques Speculator reported hastily. The cavalry scouts horse reared on the spot as he struggled to keep it under control.

Florianus had his orders to march the legion straight to the unofficial colony of Saldyva which was occupied by Lusones and Vascones warriors, and meet with the consular legion IV Fidelis which was marching north from Baetica. The Legate cursed under his breath as he considered his options: Stay and fight, or go as ordered? He couldn't leave this party of Lusones raiding in the area. Looking over at the legion's Praefectus Castrorum, he began giving orders.

"Continue the march." Florianus ordered before looking over at the commander of the cavalry. He asked, “What do you think?"

Flavius Granius Cumanus Autobulus was a bright young man, which meant he was ideally good officer material. He, however, was not originally of high place in Roman society, making him poorer Roman officer material. Fortunately for him he'd come across the legion, and through it had earned a formidable Roman style military education and training in exchange for his services. He was an excellent cavalry officer, with strong riding skills and a good grasp of general tactics and strategy. More importantly he was loyal to his legate and the legio, a trait not oft seen in the regular Legions.

"I think this presents us with an opportunity to make an example of the enemy." He replied simply and honestly. "If they number just two hundred in strength, I could easily handle them with just our light cavalry. It would leave the heavy cavalry to support the march."

"Agreed." Florianus said to the more experienced Praefectus Equitum. He looked over at the Praefectus Castrorum one last time. "We will meet you at Saldyva. Give Propraetor Vitellius my regards." With that he urged his horse forward and signaled Flavius to follow with the light cavalry, Equites Legionis.

Flavius brought his horse alongside, just slightly behind the General's in obediance. After giving one of his own Decurion's instruction to form up their cavalry, he asked the Legate, "Do we take prisoners from the raiders?"

"Kill them all except one." Florianus said. He may have been a Roman citizen of senatorial rank, but he also was an Hispanian afterall, Tarraconensis and the Roman settlers in this region were his neighbors. The Lusones would pay for their defiance.

Just an hour later the Lusones, in the process of pillaging the villa at the center of the latifundia, were caught by surprise as a man on watch yelled out at the approach of the oncoming Roman cavalry. There were barely two hundred warriors, the rest of the insurgency was spread throughout along the river as far back as Saldyva- well out of assistance range. Quickly they attempted to prepare for the assault. Those inside the buildings raced out and picked up spears or swords, the fifty or so mounted Lusones formed up in a wedge and raced towards the Romans to buy their dismounted comrades time to prepare.

Flavius gave a quick look to the Legate for permission before ordering a force of one hundred and sixty to rush head-long against the enemy cavalry. Broken into three groups, the center force crashed into the point of the enemy echelon at full speed, the battle rather quickly halting the enemy horsemen. Likewise the two other groups charged in from the flanks, slicing through the Lusones ranks and rather quickly overwhelming the enemy warriors.

As he raced past the action to his left he found that a Turmae of thirty-odd cavalry had followed behind him forming a sort of bodyguard, and behind them the rest of the unengaged Equites Legionis intent on falling on the infantry still forming up.

The impact of five hundred Equites Legionis on one hundred and fifty Lusones was little less then a complete rout, even before the cavalry hit a handful of the Lusones had broken ranks and began running for their lives. Florianus hacked at the fleeing Lusones he chased down as zealous cavalry raced on ahead of him chasing down the other routers. Most Lusones held their ground, but outnumbered four to one they could only make a token resistance.

Florianus brought his horse to a halt and waited for Flavius to catch up. "Continue the chase, and search the other buildings for any remaining Lusones." He ordered, shouting over the cries of Lusones who'd attempted to hide in the buildings and were now being dragged out and butchered. "Remember one prisoner. No more!"

"Yes general!" Flavius understood his orders and would execute them (and most of the assailants of this villa) flawlessly. There was no reason for a cavalry force to take more than the most important people prisoners anyway, as too many slowed you down considerably. He shouted to his soldiers nearby, "Find me their highest ranking survivor. One prisoner alive, execute the rest!" Most likely the other cavalrymen had already heard those orders, but Flavius had to make sure. They rode forward to route out whoever was left.

There had been no heroics, five hundred Roman cavalrymen had simply slaughtered a raiding party of less then two hundred Lusones. But that was war- You took the battles you could win without hesitation or mercy. After the final cleaning up of the surivors and the lone captive mounted and secured, Flavius led a search of the main villa for any survivors.

Inside the large, simply-furnished house, it looked like a volcano had erupted. Furniture and art were destroyed and thrown about, dishware and clothing littered the kitchen and bedrooms, but most unsettling was the bloody mess just outside the rear of the house; All five members of what Flavius determined to be the residents and slaves of the villa were laying in the mud, bloody and open eyed, staring up to the swirling gray heavens. Flavius left the bodies where they were and once the search of the house was finished, had them moved inside. After finding no one else - Lusone or otherwise- he instructed two men to bring the corpses inside and set the villa ablaze.

Flavius returned to the Legate with his men and regrouped. After explaining the situation, and watching the villa engulf in flame, they were given orders to sweep along the river and take out any small parties of Lusones they could on their way to meet up with Propraetor Vitellius on the way to Saldyva. With the Turmae which had formed around Florianus during the action still with him, he turned his horse about and raced in the direction of Saldyva to meet up with the Propraetor and the two legions marching on the occupied Roman town.


=== Three Days Later, Legio IV Fidelis, Tarraconensis ===

A few days later the men continued marching along the road to Tarroconensis. They had already entered the province and at this point they were aiming to meet with Propraetor Tacitus Vitellius. As they continued along the road amidst the pouring winter rains, the Roman standard of a bear soon became apparent to scouts a mile or so in the distance. Seconds after Porcius noticed this, horns blew signaling a halt. The clouds in the sky were high enough for light to flood the low rolling hills before them, so the rain didn’t mask the flying colors of camp before them. Legate Martelius and a contingent of light cavalry broke with the legion and rode past Porcius on the left to reach the Propraetor before continuing further.

Now Porcius more than ever wondered why their legion was dragged many miles away and why they were taken from their homes. His friend Calidrus snuck over to where Porcius was standing and looked north, barely able to notice the flags and standard of the legion encamped ahead of them.

“Gee it looks like something’s up,” Calidrus began, “You can hear the men in the camp moving around like they’re already ready to go do something.”

Porcius nodded, “Yeah, you’re right. Huh, well I guess we’ll find out soon enough.”

As Decimus overheard his friends talking he rode up beside them. “Well, maybe we’ll see some action for once finally eh? You boys excited?”

Porcius laughed, “Oh sure…and I suppose pigs can fly Decimus? You don’t even know what we’re here for yet.”

“Hey keep laughing. This could be my chance to prove myself. Maybe if you were a little more optimistic you wouldn’t be calling me sir!” Decimus mused loudly in jest. A few centurions within earshot chuckled surprisingly.

Porcius frowned at his friend, “Oh is that it? I could’ve sworn it had something to do with your father being a long time friend of the Legate’s, but say what you need to sleep at night.”

“Yeah yeah yeah…” Decimus replied, eyes twinkling like stars against the gray rainy sky. “Well I’ll see you two later tonight, try and act like soldiers for once will ya? And straighten out that helmet Calidrus.” With that Decimus laughed and rode up ahead of the men.

The legion waited patiently to see what was going on in Tarraconensis that required the assistance of a consular legion. Porcius held his horse in place as it stepped about. The wind was picking up, but the clouds were clearing. The rain had died down significantly which would help raise the spirits of the soaking wet soldiers. After a few minutes of quiet standing, the Legate and his group returned to the legion, taking up their place at the rear of the legion.

Again, seconds after the legate charged past Porcius, horns signaling the resumed move forward were sounded. The march forward would only last another half an hour before they finally broke to make camp. They settled on a flat spot a few hundred paces at the camp edge from the camp of the other legion. Rumor spready throughout the consular legion as tents and fortifications were erected that they were indeed on a path to battle- against natives from the lower pyrenees. Camp was erected in a matter of hours, and by that time darkness had enveloped the two legions.

Legate Martelius, a few choice Tribunes and Adiuvator Porcius Camillus all made haste toward the personal tent of Tacitus Vitellius as soon as their own camp was finished and the soldiers broke out their rations for the night. The rain had stopped completely at this point and the wind had slowed, making it feel warmer outside than it really was. Porcius, as he trotted alongside one of the tribunes who trotted along the left of the legate, replayed the conversation he had with him only moments before they left their camp for the other:

“Adiuvator Camillius, come with me.” Legate Martelius half ordered and half asked. Porcius looked from side to side quickly before standing from his stool where he sat tucking away some tools and personal belongings into a sack. Martelius took a few paces back and ordered more clearly, “Come on man, hop to it!”

Porcious dropped his things and caught up with his commander immediately. “Yes sir. May I ask what’s going on, sir?”

Legate Martelius nodded and spoke. “I’ve seen you myself, but more importantly my men above you speak highly of your skill and intelligence. That alone isn’t enough to promote you in my opinion, so instead I wish to have you at my side during the meeting with Propraetor Vitellius I am headed to right now. Saddle up and meet me out south. Five minutes.”

Porcius snapped back to reality when he heard the voice of his legate coming at him. “Are you with us, Porcius?”

“Yes sir, of course sir.” Porcius nodded with a smile. He didn’t feel as if he was lost in thought as obviously as he must have been.

“Good, once inside only speak when the Propraetor addresses you.”

“Of course sir, thank you for bringing me along.” Porcius nodded again, gripping the reigns of his horse a little tighter with the idea he might some how screw everything up with a ‘hello’. It only took a few minutes before they were dismounted and inside the camp of the Propraetor. Flags with great golden bears flew high and freshly hammered shields and swords littered the camp with every young soldier that walked about. Legate Martelius led the way toward the personal tent of Tacitus, through the camp toward the center. The were greeted by guards unlike any soldier yet seen in either camp- the Tullian Guard that shadowed the Propraetor everywhere- who swiftly double checked their identities and checked for concealed weaponry.

Inside the tent a warm, bright yellow light filled the room from all sides, eliminating any chance at shadow. Tacitus despised shadows and desired the light of Roman civilization around him at all times. The tent wasn’t furnished luxuriously, but it wasn’t sparse in comparison to the tent of Legate Martelius. Porcius looked around and took in the unfamiliar faces after he commented to himself on the simple beauty of the tent. He recognized the propraetor for his attire; A large bearskin cape attached with large gold clasps, his purple senatorial colors and obvious only because of the enveloping light of the room, a large ring on his right hand with a large ‘V’ embossed on it. ‘Regal,’ Porcius thought to himself, then only just noticing three distinct scars along the left side of the propraetors head. ‘...but I wonder where he received the scars?’

Standing an arms length away to the left of Tacitus stood Legate Carus Florianus Julianus, commander of the propraetor’s force. He was young and vibrant looking- Porcius couldn’t tell if it was just the lighting or if the legate before him was actually glowing. Florianus was wearing the standard attire for a legate and had no peculiar adornments that gave Porcius a clue as to who he was. Other than the two commanders he had never seen before, there were two more tribunes from the other legion that finished the group.

Tacitus smiled weakly, “Legate Martelius, you made good time.”

“I hope so, Sir. It has been raining for most of the march.” Martelius said with a salute. “I would like to introduce Adiuvator Porcius Camillus. He has shown an exciting level of promise and I felt it appropriate that he be here.”

Porcius was in the spotlight now and felt awkward, but he remembered what his commander said about not speaking until spoken too. Thankfully that would be sooner than he could knowingly handle. Tacitus nodded and stretched out a hand, “Good to meet you, Adiuvator. I hope you’re ready for what lays ahead.”

“Oh yes sir, of course sir!” Porcius assured excitedly. “I have wondered this whole march what it was we were moving towards, knowing full well I could handle it.”

Florianus moved away from Tacitus and took a bite of some pork laying torn to shreds on a table nearby, then chugged a glass of wine. He acted as if he was ignoring the other soldiers. Tacitus paid no mind, “I would like to introduce the four of you, Legate, Tribunes and Adiuvator, to Legate Carus Florianus Julianus. Great-grandson of the late Legate Marcus Darius Julianus, Populares co-founder, and relative descendant of Emperor Honorius Julianus. He saved my life not too long ago!”

Legate Martelius extended his hand to Legate Julianus, who by now had turned back to the crowd and smiled, “Well in that case then it’s especially good to meet you, Florianus.”

Florianus shook his colleagues hand with a genuine smile, “And you too.” Then he turned and before he could reach for the hand of Porcius, he noticed the look of obvious interest in the last statement of the propraetor. As he shook Porcius’s hand, he asked, “I imagine you wish to know how I saved his life...?”

“Yes.” Porcius answered, calmly, hiding his interest. “I see the wounds, but I can’t even begin to imagine.”

Florianus neglected to shake hands with the other tribunes that accompanied Legate Martelius, but looked them each in the eyes and smiled warmly for a fraction of a second before turning to speak again to Porcius. He was cut off by Tacitus, who unhooked his bear skin cloak, hanging it on a hook attached to a support pole. “You all may sit down, by all means. The story is short as well. Simply put I was mauled by a bear a little over half a week ago.”

The two new tribunes gasped slightly, while Porcius leaned in closer and Legate Martelius just shook his head. He asked, “How did it get in camp?”

Florianus assumed direction of the story as Tacitus seated himself. “Nobody knows. Nobody saw it enter the camp,” and with a sarcastic smile finished with, “so much for your elite private guard.”

Porcius smiled at Florianus, slightly admiring the friendly repoire between the two men. Tacitus glanced disapprovingly at Florianus and brought the story back to point. “It was too much for some soldiers, it saw me emerge from my tent and then charged through my guard and began assailing me. I stabbed it with my own sword, but the kill wound was delivered by Florianus. My sword did nothing to hinder the bear’s onslaught and that’s when it left me this wonderful flesh wound...”

“Incredible. It’s a miracle you survived!” Exclaimed Martelius as he watched Tacitus lightly touch the still healing wounds with his hand.

“Yes, yes. The most exciting thing to happen to me in decades. I should think it will make a wonderful anecdote when I return to Rome.” Tacitus sounded joyous as he thought about the future, to the surprise of Porcius and Martelius. Florianus laughed out loud for a moment before shaking his head.

Tacitus stopped musing and lost his smile. He gave the four soldiers from the other legions a quiet stare to set the tone of seriousness, and then said without further hesitance, “We are off to war. Not a grand war, but a necessary one.”

Martelius nodded his head, but inside felt immediately overwhelmed. His legion had never seen real battle, and his own arm was lame. He wasn’t affected by it, but what if...? Porcius however felt exhilarated. ‘Battle!’ he exclaimed to himself silently. He kept his eyes on Tacitus as the Propraetor continued.

“The Lusones and Vascones of the upper Iber river hills have broken the traditional and unspoken treaty of remaining on the north side of the river and have invaded thousands of acres of Roman land- taking the growing river town of Saldyva. Reconnaissance tells us there are nearly ten thousand in and within a ten mile radius of Saldyva. Gentlemen, come the morning we are off to battle.”


Written By: Carus Florianus Julianus, Flavius Porcius Camillus and Ferus Juventas

Edited By: Ferus Juventas

127 AD