Run!

I continue my literal shit routine, for 3 more days.

11th day.

The sun had sank behind the hills already. I'm carrying some wine to the Quartermaster's tent when I nearly walk straight into a man in armor.

He doesn't flinch. But I do when I realize he was a Centurion.

He scowls. "You, boy." His voice stone. "You're the Imperator's slave aren't you?"

I nod.

"Drop that."

I freeze.

So I do. I leave the wine right where I am.

The Centurion points a gloved hand toward the east, where the command tents loomed, barely visible in the twilight.

"Take this tablet to the Optio of the Tenth. Now!"

I open my mouth. Nothing comes out of it.

He just shove/ the tablet into my chest.

"Run, slave!" He barked, turning already. "Don't drop it, don't lose it, don't read it and if you're slow, I'll have your back flayed. Go!"

So I ran.

I ran as fast as I could and the nights I explored the camp finally found their real use.

...

I stop at the tent's entrance, breath having. A crescent moon hangs behind the lines of spears stuck in the ground like a forest of iron.

"Sir?" I croak

The man inside looks up from a scroll, grease on his fingers.

"What is it?"

I hold out the tablet.

"From a Centurion of the Tenth, for the Optio of the Tenth.

He snatches it, glances at the seal and then waves me off like a stray dog.

"Tell him it's recieved. Go."

I leave the tent and head back to the area I met the Centurion. I don't know his name but I remember a scar of his across the lip. I look for him and then find him barking at a line of sweating soldiers. Must be his Centuria, his men.

He turns to me and I say:

"The message's been delivered."

He grunts. "Good. You're fast. Might use you again.

...

The next day, I get back into my routine. I'm hoping the Centurion gives me orders again, but he doesn't.

I sleep disappointed. Another day of shit hauling.

On my 13th day, I'm witnessing a squad training some ragged clothes in hand. I fo that quite often actually. Mostly because I enjoy it.

Everything goes as usual until one of the men suddenly doesn't manage to dodge a slash he should've and gets a heavy shoulder injury.

The Decanus, their leading officer, comes right away. Then, he sees me and barks:

"You! Boy, run to the med tent and send someone. This man is bleeding like like a fucking boar."

I'm panicking but I quickly calm myself down and make a run for the med tent. Once there, the medic tells me to accompany him to the place. Even though tired, I still do it as fast as I can. I want the officer to see me do the job to the end so he can remember me for the future.

When we get there, a dozen of people are standing in a circle around the wounded guy. The one who attacked him is applying pressure on his wound so blood doesn't keep coming out.

"Clear way!" The medic shouts.

He immediately gets to work and we spectate for about 5-10 minutes.

"He'll be alright. We have to bring him to the med tent though." He says.

Everyone sighs in relief.

Then, the Decanus turns to me.

"You were pretty fast, kid. Well done."

"Thank you, sir." I answer gratefully.

...

Some days pass very slowly. I just woke up and I'm already cleaning buckets and scrubbing pans near the cookfires.

"Boy."

I turn.

Scarred lip, iron voice.

The Centurion! The one who is most probable to be able to give me a promotion due to his standing.

"How many runs have you made since we last spoke?"

"Four," I say. "Three for Decanus Varian and even one for the Quartermaster yesterday. I'm still surprised he chose me."

"And you delivered successfully?"

I nod.

He tosses me a sealed tablet. This one has the mark burned into the wax: crossed fasces under an eagle wing.

"This goes to the ninth Legion's command tent. The Tribune named Vorenus. He'll know what it is. Say nothing. Give it to his hands personally."

"Yes, sir."

He grabs my shoulder before I turn.

"What's your name, kid?"

I look up.

"Lucius."

"Good. Lucius, you're fast. You don't talk. You obey. I like you already. But this is an important tablet. Don't you dare lose it."

I bow my head in respect.

And I run.

...

This is actually the first time I visit the Ninth. It isn't far, I have already seen it from inside the camp. Can't be more than one kilometer away. I am excited. It's the first time I leave the confines of the camp in almost three weeks.

I wonder how long it'd take for them to find me and cut my neck if I tried to escape.

Not long, I conclude.

The grass is already dry and some kind of road made up of high pressured dirt is born.

I realise this is probably how roads are born and then we pave above it. They say the Aurelines are the best at creating roads. That's how they maintain their empire.

Once inside the camp, it feels no different than the Legio X's camp. Only less... personalized? Legio X had its own unique standard while the Ninth doesn't. No matter though.

I arrive at the commanding tents soon and find the Tribune's tent by asking around. Then, I request permission to enter and deliver the tablet. The legionnaire tells me to hand it over to him so he can pass it along.

"No, I was given specific orders to deliver it to the Tribune himself."

With a sneer he says "Fine, get inside."

After getting checked I do get inside and stumble upon an ongoing conversation.

"Yes, Sulla is going to run for Consul when we get back to Aurelia."

"Hmmm, that's a well calculated move. With the prestige he's acquired here, he will be a elected for sure."

"Yeah but what then?"

"I think we're going to Numidia. Every important person in Aureia wants to be Consul right now. Our relations in Numidia are deteriorating. Everyone believes there will be a war soon, so they want to go after the military prestige."

I'm left just standing there, listening to this conversation with a pale face, afraid for my life, even.

I am saved by another slave sent to bring some wine and I fully enter with him.

The men turn to me simultaneously, making me soak in cold sweat. One of these men is a Tribune. A Tribune!

"My lords. I have come to deliver a tablet to Tribune Vorenus."

"Oh? Come closer, kid." The one on the right tells me. I can tell he's slightly disgusted by me, a slave. He must be a noble then.

He inspects the tablet and then waves me off. "You can go, boy."

I bow and leave the tent sweating.

...

The next few days, I make more deliveries for my superiors. Up to the point that it's getting too much and I have to stay awake at night to finish my camp labor.

But I learn a few things too by eavesdropping here and there.

First and foremost that we will be departing soon. You can in fact see it because training intensity has slowed down and wood isn't being restocked anymore.

Second, we're going for the Capital, Aurelia. Caput Mundi, they call it. Head of the world.

I am so curious to see it. In my head it's idealized. I hope it won't let me down as the Empire itself did.

And three, I am finally getting noticed. People now talk about me saying I'm smart and never mess up an order. They say I'm pretty fast too and I'd make a pretty fine runner already. I'm only waiting for the Superiors to think that way now.