By way of introducing some characters and setting some scenes

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Disclaimer:
The original characters and plot of this story are the property of the author. No infringement of pre-existing copyright is intended. This story is copyright (c) 2014 - 2020 Julia Phillips. All rights reserved.
It uses some of the associated characters and situations that arise from the world called ‘Anmar’ created by Penny Lane, whose stories are also copyright (c) 2010 - 2020 Penny Lane. All rights reserved.

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Max led the group away from the river, along the narrow but well-worn track through the trees, in the direction of the main road that ran roughly north-east/south-west through the closely packed woodland in this part of the seemingly endless forest.

Outwardly, Max was his usual hard-faced and efficient self; the under-officer that ran a very tight unit. Inwardly though he had some reservations about this move, despite the given reasons being valid; it just seemed wrong to abandon a perfectly good fort, built with usual efficiency in a perfectly normal layout and with a plentiful supply of water. Yes, the vegetable gardens had been washed away – again – by the rains; yes, the fort had been built for about 100 and there were only 42 of us on this, the last night; yes, the roar of the waterfalls did get on your nerves; yes, there was virtually no strategic reason to be stuck away where no enemy could possibly penetrate; yes, the lignite and soft coal mining was important as the Empire struggled to maintain its wide-spread borders, and the recent expansion of Saxum Nigra needed some protection; yes, there was nothing to do but hunt where we were …......

And yet. And yet. And yet.

It just felt wrong somehow. Maybe his thoughts were clouded by the killing of Gai. He was determined to solve THAT little mystery, but his orders now took him away from the scene. He idly wondered if that was another reason for his orders. Gai had been his friend and Max missed the discussions they had had.

Gradually, the roar of the falls behind them subsided and the normal forest noises gained their prominence, broken only by the inevitable sounds of a large party under way – footfalls, breathing, coughing, sniffles, farts, desultory conversation, jangles of the harnesses on the fraena, soft curses at a sudden stumble. As always happened, some shortish while into a march through densely planted forest woodlands, usually around half a campana, the conversations died out as the oppressive nature of thick woodlands took over.

However, by that time, on that day, they were nearing the main road. As a result, and with the increase of the ambient light and the possibility of perhaps meeting someone else, the chatter was reignited.

When they emerged from the trees, they stepped up the slight increase in height onto the road surface. Once there, they turned left to go north, away from the valley's entrance. They all knew they were headed for the foot of the rock face, now visible through the tunnel of the overhanging trees, although still some distance ahead of them.

Several of them had never been further than the turn-off to the now-abandoned fort, so for them there was the added emotion of new landscape, always assuming that the ever-present trees allowed some views sometime. Max, though, knew that the rock-face effectively blocked the valley, a small lake as a branch from the river met the edge of the rock-face thus making a natural barrier. Most travellers stopped for a rest at the foot of that rock-face as the road climbed relatively steeply across the exposed stone until it reached the foot of a small peak that they called “Street Helm”. This was because its shape, apparently, resembled a pointed warrior's helm.

Behind them, and down the valley from the level of the fort, the road distanced itself from the river and then reached a point where it started to climb out of the valley to cross another large stream. The road then climbed more and eventually joined a cross-mountain trade route that went all the way north to a remote jungle city called Tscharn, many weeks march away.

The river itself, called the Praebella (this full name was usually shortened to just Prae) as it was a significant tributary to the big Bella river, dropped over a large jumbled falls, many paces wide, some said even a millus, before consolidating again. It then neared the road once more, just there at the point where the road started to climb, creating a very narrow valley entrance, which would be quite defensible given the trees and the river and the valley edge. The west bank of the Prae was largely unexplored, there being no easily found access.

The valley then continued for many milla downstream, the Prae joining the main Bella river near the town of Trifluvium, and just before another strong tributary, the Sufum, joined in. As the town name suggested, the three rivers came together at that point. The Sufum valley was rich in ore, and it was from the ore mined here that most of the weapons carried by the warriors were forged.

Continuing downstream from Trifluvium, the Bella twisted and turned until it reached a natural choke-point at the town of Halcyon. This got its name from a story favoured by one of the early Chivans in which a woman was turned into a screeching avis. And there were many screeching avia indeed at this narrow gorge between two high cliffs.

Further down the Bella valley, there was another confluence where the Tedlus river joined the Bella; the town of Tedlum had grown there. And some twenty-five or more milla downstream from there, a massive castle had been built where the side valley of the Bella met the side of a huge valley belonging to another winding river called the Cyrillus. This fastness, built round the nose of the cliff that defined the two valleys, was called Decarinium.

The Cyrillus river wound its way between quite steep valley walls; these walls were an estimated fifty or sixty milla apart. The river course stayed basically the same but the rains and the autumnal storms sometimes cut off bends or created others. As is probably obvious, the Bella flowed into the Cyrillus. Where the two met, on a slight rise in the centre of that wide valley, the main town of the Chivans had sprung up, called somewhat unimaginatively Bellarend.

A long way away thought Max – over 150 milla, nearer 200. A long way to come to do nothing ….......

Max's thoughts were jerked back from the town in which he was born by a question from one of his fellow travellers.

“Decanus! Are we to stop for water at the resting place ahead?”

“We have barely come two milla, we have another twenty and more to go, and you want to stop already?”

“It's the women, Decanus. And the other! They suggest that we stop before committing to two or three campana without the possibility of relief.”

Max sighed. His rank indicated that he was the man in charge of a Contubernium, eight legionaries, the basic unit of the legions. Here, in this country that is apparently so different from the 'Old Country' the ancient legends talk about, the name Contubernium had been shortened to 'Tube', and the number of legionaries in a Tube was twelve nowadays. Sometimes, Tube leaders such as himself were also addressed as 'Tube', but it was rare, the title 'Decanus' was by far more widely used, and even it's diminutive 'Dec'. He had, for today, appointed two other Decs – Julius Marcellus in the 2nd Tube, and Felix Cato for the 3rd Tube.

So here he was, in nominal charge of a dozen men, leading 35 legionaries, 5 women and one other person through a remote and dense forest on a rarely used route that led to a dead-end. And they had barely started when a halt had to be called. Their one advantage was that they were travelling light, their personal belongings had been taken by wagon the day before so they had just their overnight things with them. If you could call having eight pack fraena with them “travelling light”.

What was this man's army coming to?

And so the party was soon to be halted, mainly for the women to empty their tiny bladders. It always amazed Max that they 'went' so frequently and then immediately drank again, as if they couldn't operate without a full bladder. Strange creatures, women. To be honoured, of course, for their gifts of motherhood, but he would die before he even came close to understanding them, particularly the way they thought. Things that were important to them were so unimportant to most men, scarce noticed indeed. And yet somehow a woman could make a man feel bad about something that really wasn't important, just by a glance and/or a facial expression. Very strange creatures indeed.

But not as strange as that Antonia.

Max acknowledged that, as well as never going to be able to understand women, he would never be able to understand why some men would want to live dressed as a woman all the time, and to be treated as a woman, and to adopt the gestures of a woman. Antonia was not the only one like this in this strange world, there was indeed an established tradition of this sort of behaviour, but Antonia was the only one that had been at the fort last night, and thus the only one in his party of travellers. She did look good though, Max had to admit. Until you saw the hands and the neck and the width of the shoulders, and the waist and the feet, the assumption was immediately made that this was simply a tall woman. The fall of the clothes worked well to hide many of the 'defects'. You just had to get to know her a bit before all the little clues ran together.

It was still a mystery to Max why she decided some days to wear whore's colours on her robes, and some days not. Today was one of those days and she matched impeccably with the two 'proper' whores in their party. The other three women tended to keep some distance from these three, and even the other two sometimes showed some reluctance to be with Antonia. But strangely, it was the two 'proper' ones who were the prettiest, with Antonia, when regarded objectively, as the third prettiest of the six.

They turned off the road again, to take the few paces down to the lakeside at the foot of the sheer rockface they would soon have to traverse in a climb.

Max was surprised to see a full half-dozen wagons were there, all lightly loaded with goods, the wagon-drivers supervising the dranacae as the beasts took on water.

Max's soldierly instincts made him switch immediately into high-alert mode.

“Hold!” called Max rapidly. “All of you, wait here. Be prepared to defend yourself. 3rd Tube, guard everyone here, keep the six women in your middle. 2nd Tube, outer guard, check the trees around here for an ambush, four teams of three, you know the drill. 1st Tube, come with me to question these men. All of you, be alert and ready to call out a warning. Here one of you, take my hasta.” He handed over his long spear to a man from the 3rd.

Brandishing his drawn gladius, his eyes dancing every way as he evaluated danger lines, he approached the wagon men, his bearing upright and unafraid.

Unlike the men he was approaching.

They had looked up at the sound of swords being drawn and the peremptory commands that had been called out. To see suddenly a dozen armed men approaching them out of what had been an empty forest road must have been bad enough, but the leader of these soldiers was a giant, at least a head taller than most men, and he was flanked by two more men only a hand's width shorter. All had eyes that missed nothing and they wielded their swords in a very professional way.

“Which of you is your leader?” called Max as he approached.

“We have none, Centurion!”

“Then gather all of you together, as a group. I am on the lookout for trickery. If you are peaceful, then there will be no trouble, but may the Gods help you if I find any of you untrustworthy.”

The man released their guiding hands from the beasts and quickly clumped together. Max and his two flankers stepped forward to question the unarmed men, Max's hands flicking signals to the others to keep an eye out for anyone else.

“My name is Maximus Aurelius – I am not a Centurion, nor even an Optio, I am currently an unpaid and temporary Tesserarius. My official rank is Decanus. Now who are you and whither are you bound?”

The men all looked at each other but none spoke.

Max prodded one with the tip of his gladius: “You. You are now their leader. Name?”

“Dinavanus, Tesserarius. From Trifluvium.” The man managed to stutter in reply.

“Why so many of you? Where are you going? What are your orders?”

“We are sent to Saxum Nigra. We each have to pick up as full a load of the black stone that burns, that they call coal, as possible and bring it down to some new craftplace just this side of Tedium.”

“Tedium?”

“A poor attempt at a joke, Tesserarius. It's what we from Trifluvium call Tedlum. I apologise.”

“How many are you?”

“Just us six, Tesserarius.”

Max relaxed slightly and for the first time took his eyes off the men, knowing that his flankers would not. His eyes scattered round at the others in his party and both Felix Cato and Julius Marcellus, the Tube leaders today, indicated that they detected no dangers. But also indicated that they would continue to be alert.

“Stand easy, but wary. Bring the women down here. Let them piss and drink.”

And so the two groups mingled together eventually. Max and Dinavanus (call me 'Din') striking up the beginnings of a friendship.

When a quarter of a campana had passed, Max stretched and called his group together to continue their march.

“Max, you could ride on our wagons, at least up the slope across the rock face.” There were some grumbles from the other drivers when Din suggested that.

“We was told, no travellers!”

“And we have no coin to pay you, so I must reluctantly ….”

One of the other drivers called out: “We wouldn't need no coin, Tesserarius.” His eyes flashed around his companions and then nodded at the six people in the middle of Max's group.

Cautiously, Max replied: “Then how would you be persuaded, driver?”

“You has three whores with you, Tesserarius. And we ain't seen no woman for a month 'n more.” The other drivers all nodded enthusiastically, including Din.

“Well actually, we have only …..”

A hand , sweet-smelling, cupped itself across Max's lips, preventing him from talking. Antonia let her fingers slide along Max's chin and jaw once she had stopped him. She gave an almost imperceptible shake of her head before joining up with the other two. The pretty trio walked seductively across to the drivers who had all stopped talking and just stared at them as they approached.

Antonia selected the tallest of the drivers, the other two each chose one of the others and then the three couples slipped silently into the obscurity supplied by the surrounding dense woods.

It didn't take long before Antonia returned, followed by a grinning driver. She swung her hips as she went back down to the water. Max had rarely seen quite such a seductive walk produced by anyone in his life. A very, very sexy sway indeed. He knew what she was but still felt a stirring in his loins. She rinsed her mouth out thoroughly in the waters of the little lake. She then turned and indicated to Din that he should be the next. He moved as if his mind had been emptied. Max wondered if he should say something, but decided against it.

Soon one, and then the other, driver emerged from the tree line as did the women. They all washed themselves thoroughly before the two women took the final two drivers back into the semblance of some privacy.

They travelled on after a total further delay of maybe half a campana.

… … …

The wagons were approaching an end to the thick trees and all wondered if this was the upper edge of the forest or just another clearing. Max peered forward from his perch next to Din and when he realised that it was the forest's edge, he called a halt.

All his party jumped, slid, scrambled or tumbled down from the wagons and gathered together still inside the fringe of the trees. The drivers all waved and called farewells whilst Max got his party sorted out. The women all disappeared for a final 'natural break'. When all were present, Max addressed the entire group. He reminded them all that it would be better to not talk about the fact that they had ridden most of the way up here. The wagoners had been forbidden to pick up strangers and Max knew that anyone more senior than he would find some military reason that the entire 42 people should never have had an easy journey. The drivers had all been thankful that Max would keep quiet and so it was agreed that it would never be mentioned by any of them.

They all chatted together as Max allowed the wagons to get the best part of a millus away, despite it meaning a further delay. For once, during this short period, everyone was also talking with the three dressed as whores. Those others were all grateful that they had been spared much walking/marching, and it was their way of saying thank you.

Max formed his group into an orderly block and then they finally strode up the road and emerged from the forest into a dull, overcast day. His keen eyes picked out a rudimentary township, more of a hamlet actually, which he estimated to be some four or five milla distant. He had been told to just follow the road until its end, so that is what they would do. The roadbed was as straight as an hasta's shaft; yes, it undulated slightly, but then that is what they had had since the bend at the foot of the “Street Helm”. He had heard that behind the Street Helm, there was a stone quarry that had provided most of the road surface stone, but that the access road to it was not an easy passage, with streams, marshes and pools to negotiate. But that was the only even slightly industrialised location in all of this upper valley, except for Saxum Nigra itself. And he certainly didn't understand the need for that remote village.

Militarily, the country, once they were clear of the forest, was easy. No-one could approach them without being seen from a long distance, unless they too came out of the forest now behind them. Max had therefore posted a rearguard, with a token force on the flanks. The fraena were behind the women but before the rearguard. The company marched steadily towards that distant village.

Once again, Max allowed a part of his mind to wander, as he always did on long marches. He had never experienced a scare that would require him to switch into full concentration, but he was supremely confident that he would be able to do so. His mind took in the fact that they were approaching the very head of a valley, there were a few canyons to the sides and that the valley floor was relatively smooth, not too many deep folds or anything. The river, to his experienced eyes, appeared to be a little stronger than he would have expected from this sort of country, but it was not a very remarkable difference. He knew that time would eventually reveal all.

He knew also that the handful of scattered buildings up ahead must be Saxum Nigra, the most northerly 'town' it was possible to have in this valley. He furthermore knew that this was NOT the most northerly town in the Chivan Empire, that was Castellum Septentrionalis. Which was up the trade route to Tscharn, the trade route that they had long, long ago left to get into this valley of the Prae.

I wonder why we have renamed everywhere, mused Max, as his strides kept automatically to the strict military rhythm and cadence.

Max knew from contacts within the native population that they had their own names for places and hills and so on, but there was still this 'them and us' thinking even all this time, many generations after we Chivans reached here. For example, the river that fed the long, long valley into which this river we call the Prae flows, is named by the natives the 'Paller', and this part of the Chivan Empire used to be called simply 'Paller Land'. Or something like that anyway, their language and accent is very difficult sometimes. And apparently old Admiral Chivanus damaged an ear in the landing and he became partially deaf, so he just grabbed what he thought he had heard and used that for the names he assigned to places and things.

It is always difficult to be absolutely certain as to the truth being 'the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth' in all the tales of our many generations since landing here, however all the tales were fairly consistent about the absolute origins here on the continent we now call Alaesia.

After a severe storm endangered two packed ships travelling together, they were thrown together, literally, onto a marshy shore.

The ships had sailed from the ancient port of Ostia, along with another carrying horses and foodstuffs, bound for the expanding edge of the Empire just west of the city of Carthage in Africa.

The first ship contained most of the military, and their wives and families, and the masters of their trades, whilst the second ship contained the artisans; the road makers, the builders, the armourers, the farmers, the leather workers, the smiths, the wheelwrights, the cooks, the seamstresses ….. oh, all the many experienced personnel required to bring civilisation to barbarian lands. There were at least two of each and every profession.

Yes, there were also whores. Quite a few more than just two.

And a large group of those like Antonia, who wanted the freedom to live as they desired without any of the innuendo that had started to prevail in Roma, Pompeii and Neapolis. These people had always been tolerated, especially in Florentia, but recently had been increasingly frowned upon in most of the larger cities, and many slurs and insults were cast their way, particularly towards those who took a more submissive attitude in their sex lives. Somehow, being the penetrator was more acceptable than being the one penetrated. Whatever the reason, a large group of men who would be women had been gathered together by promises of more freedom for them to live as they would like to. They had also been joined by a small group of women who wanted to be men. Cynics suggested this was a way for the towns to clear out some unwanted citizens, so they made it sound attractive, and thus rid themselves of potential problems.

And so it came to pass that the three-ship flotilla set sail one sunny autumn morning, making their way out to sea and heading for the new lands. They successfully made passage to Feronia, on the large island of Sardiniam. In the next days, they slowly continued by following the coast southwards and then westwards until it curved back northwards after one final southern cape. With a ceremonial feast, the ships finally set out for their destination, still a long way off to the south-west. They knew they would be out of sight of land for some days, and that the passage would be difficult, being as it was into the prevailing winds.

On the third afternoon, almost into the evening, a storm brewed up from what had at first seemed like a small dark cloud which rapidly developed into a small dark cloud with a spout hanging from it. Everyone was amazed at the speed with which the sky was then covered by black and boiling clouds. The ship carrying the horses and foodstuff gave itself a little room from the other two, but those two were in the process of transferring a man from one to the other and were thus actually tied together just as the storm arrived. The winds and waves threw the hulls together constantly and many planks were sprung. The sailors of these ships fought all night long to save them but were losing the battle as the dawn arrived, not that there was much lightening of the skies, the clouds were still low, dark and angry. Of the third ship, there was no longer any sign. All were exhausted, every single one still aboard, for some had been cast into the angry waters. Each and every one of the survivors (so far) had collapsed, resigned to abandoning themselves to whatever fate the Gods had determined for them.

The twinned ships were unsteerable, most of their oars had been smashed and the sails torn away. No-one any longer knew which way was north, which was south. The wind and the waves drove the barely surviving, only just floating wrecks wherever they wanted to. Everyone on board these ships was at the very end of their strength when a hoarse shout of “Ware! Land!” was broken off as the ships crunched into some sort of terra firma. A particularly high series of waves lifted the hulks farther up the beach, or whatever it was, before the retreating tide left them shipwrecked and stranded on this unknown shore.

Such was their exhaustion that it took a long, long time before anyone stood and tried to gather more information. It could have been minutes, it could have been hours but some of the normally shaven men suggested that their beard growth indicated it was actually days. The storm was noticeably in abeyance by this time, the sun feeling quite hot to those who stayed out of any shade. Certainly, more than a few of the people had already received at the very least a light sun burn.

One brave soul decided to risk clambering down the side of the wreckage onto the land. The rope he used to aid his descent was just too short and he dropped the final few feet. He didn't exactly land, he more or less squelched. He pitched forward rather than landing in the sort of squatting position he had anticipated. His face met the surface and he found he was in a sort of marsh. Some of the brackish water went into his mouth and he was quick to spit it out.

“Pliff!” was the first sound that everyone heard on that strange land.

… … ...

Max's attention was brought back to the present by a warning cough from his neighbour. He looked ahead and saw two mounted men approaching on their fraena, having just passed the wagons ahead of them.

“Look sharp, now, men. Seems we are about to be cursed by officers.”

A titter ran round the ranks before each man made a mental check of his equipment and his bearing. The women and Antonia all brushed as much dust as they could from their robes and their hair.

… … …

“Maximus Aurelius Bellarendi, Decanus!” Max snapped off an impressive salute as he introduced himself.

“Stand easy, Decanus. Were there problems on the route? We expected you a campana ago.”

“Negative, Optio. It is to be regretted that military men are capable of faster marching than women are. And the women needed to do their 'business' as we progressed. I deem we have done very well, considering.”

“Hmmmmm. A good tale, and just believable, I suppose.”

Max's face flushed at the condescending tone and the implication of the Optio's remark, but he stayed rigidly at attention. The men, who had had a little grin at the double meaning when thinking about some of the women going about their 'business', all stiffened their spines as they got their first taste of what their new officer was like. Even Antonia's eyes narrowed a little and the women all darted glances at each other.

“Right then, Decanus. Show me how military men can really march. Leave a Tube behind to escort the women at their slow pace, and to lead your pack animals, and the rest of you can march to the encampment. I expect you to at least try to keep up with us as we will be riding ahead of you.”

“Optio,” Max said in acknowledgement of his orders. He looked round and saw Felix Cato and the 3rd Tube were nearest the women. “Dec Felix, your Tube on escort duty and to carry some of our extra baggage packs. The rest of you, lighten your loads as you can and form up on me in two minutes. Move.”

Max stepped forward counting.

A Chivan gradus was defined as a single step, and a passus as a double step, measured from the right heel. So the first gradus was the step which moved the left foot forward and the second gradus was the step that moved the right foot forward. The distance between the two positions of the right heel at the beginning and the end of a passus was a standard throughout all the legions and recruits soon learnt that distance. A single one of either of these measurements was, as mentioned, a gradus or a passus, whereas a plurality of these were called grada or passa, respectively. Roadstones were positioned every one thousand passa, which was called in full a 'mille passa'. But this had been contracted to a millus, or milla in the plural.

So Max counted five passa and came to a rigid attention at the left edge of the road. The other men all decided to ignore the load lightening just as Max had. This officer had annoyed them, and they would show the bastard what they could do. Within half a minute they were all lined up in four rows of six, Max being front and left. The man diagonally across that body of men from Max, the one back and right, knew by long custom that he should be the last to form up.
It was he who called: “Present!” when he was finally into position, to let Max know they were all lined up and ready to go.

The expected order was not long in coming: “At the double, march!”

And off they went, the standard cadence of 120 passa per minute being so engrained during their training that no-one need count. For the women it was an impressive sight to see 24 men on the point of running keep perfect formation while carrying shields, swords and spears. And the pace was breathtaking to the onlookers as well as the soldiers.

It suddenly dawned on the Optio that six men abreast effectively blocked the road, and there would be no place for he and his partner to overtake the rapid men, unless they took to the rough ground. His face showed his annoyance and he scrambled into the low-slung chair hanging awkwardly from the animal, shouting at his associate to get on his beast quickly. By the time they were ready to move on, the phalanx of quick-marching men were a good few hundred passa distant. The Optio's mood was not improved by a few feminine sniggers as he muddled away in pursuit, with his partner a few paces behind.

… … …

The fresh arrivals took notice of the fact that the road had maintained its straightness after crossing a shallow ford; a ford which allowed passage across a surprisingly strong side stream. This meant the road climbed up a slope by going across it, the hill climbing up further to the right, the east. A curious relatively flat area marked the end of the road and most of the inhabitants up here lived in tents pitched on this flatter area. There were some more permanent buildings straddling the road as it neared the flat area, but only a few.

Latrines had been dug down the slope from the road, towards the head of the river. Max had been right about the strength of the river lower down. This part of the river up here by the encampment had far too little water to create the strength of river he had seen further down the valley. That shallow ford just below the buildings and tents had crossed a largeish tributary that seemed to flow from a side canyon. The combination of both flows was obviously the cause of the effect Max had noticed. That was one minor mystery solved, then.

And so it was that the group from the abandoned fort joined those already stationed up in this remote village. Some acquaintances were renewed but most of the men were strangers to each other, a fact which all present knew would change quite shortly. They were now all on the same team and would have to forge new bonds, friendships and rivalries.

The women had been whisked off to prepared quarters, the wives joining their husbands. There was one large tent set aside at some distance for the whores, the two newcomers joining the four already here.

Antonia was reconnected with her 'sister', another like her who had gone on ahead to set up their home. The two of them had been together for years now, ever since they both discovered each other shortly after they came of age.

There was also a small camp of tents at the top of the village, where the land was quite flat but huddled under the valley's shoulder, which was more of a bowl up here, close to a dark and ugly scar in the hillside. There were some locals that lived in these tents, apparently.

By the time the new arrivals had built their accommodation and settled in, a final party had arrived from upslope to the east, and the sun had just disappeared over the ridge up to the west. That didn't mean it was dark, since the sun's rays were still shining fully on the peaks and crests to the east and the reflected light was more than adequate.

Once that extra party had arranged themselves and cleaned up after their working day, a bugle sounded which, it transpired, announced the evening muster and meal.

Max had been long enough in the army to be able to smile and nod and even have limited conversations while his mind was engaged on other subjects. He asked and received the information that there was a Tube on watch whilst the rest of them were all gathered together. His agile mind counted the numbers even as he was meeting and greeting other people. His 35 soldiers, and himself had added to the 12 on watch outside and the 72 others in here, making a total of 120 soldiers, plus the two officers, an Optio and a senior Tesserarius. About 30 of the men seemed to be married, and the two leaders were as well, so the extra 16 women were daughters and/or sweethearts. This all meant that there were some 168 people here, plus the 6 whores and the two others. 176 people in total. He fleetingly thought about the natives too, but, naturally, he dismissed them as being insignificant. Plus the 6 wagon drivers, but they were only here until their wagons could be loaded.

'This place must be a little more important than I realise,' he thought to himself. 'I shall have to discover more.'

The Muster was officially announced by a subdued bugle call and the officious Optio stood on a small dais to address everyone. 'Even then,' Max realised, 'he was still shorter than I'. Max carefully did not let anything show on his face at that thought, and he frowned at a couple of his men who were smiling at the sight. They immediately wiped their faces clear. The senior Tesserarius stood next to the Optio, trying unsuccessfully to appear shorter.

“Avé, one and all. This evening, we welcome our final detachment and we can consider ourselves now at our full complement. I shall return to that subject in a moment, but first allow me to present myself to our newcomers. I am the commander here, my rank is Optio and my name is Cassius Remus Decarinii. My second-in-command here is Philo Atticus Tedlii, who is the senior Tesserarius.”

As the Optio's speech continued, Max found a grudging approval growing, despite the man's attitude earlier. He supposed that it would take a great deal of luck to be able to hide incompetence and still rise to the rank of Optio, so Max felt more at ease, at least with the military side of things. And splitting the command into three companies was sensible. Mornings, evenings and off was to be the schedule, two days at a turn, then mornings shifted to evenings and evenings to off, leaving those previously resting to fill the mornings slot. Max knew that actually the days the men were 'off' would be filled with chores, as is ever the case in the army.

But only two of these companies had a Tesserarius assigned. 'I wonder who will be the third? Probably some crony of the Optio, if experience is anything to go by.'

Which brought Max's thoughts back to the Optio. The man still had a personality problem, which Max put down to an effect he had observed countless times before. Shorter men tend to be more aggressive and irritating in their relationships with others, particularly towards the tall ones. 'I wonder if they somehow feel the need to ….'

Max's thoughts were brought to abrupt attention as his name was mentioned.

“..... elius Bellarendi was in charge and handled himself well. He is therefore raised to the rank of Tesserarius, with effect immediately. Tesserarius Maximus, I shall expect some recommendations for promotion to Decanus. Report to me at the second campana tomorrow morning.”

Max snapped to attention and saluted.

“Sir!”

It was after the Optio had finished his speechifying that many came to congratulate Max upon his promotion, and the other company commanders came across to welcome him to their ranks. Urban Septimus, also of the Tedlii, was in charge of the 1st company whilst Lucius Cyprian, of the Decarinii, like the Optio, was in charge of the 2nd company. Max's company, which would be the 3rd,, would consist of all the men he had brought up with him, plus four transferees, and they were currently on the 'off' shift, the change coming on the morning after next, which meant that Max needed to call everyone together first thing in the morning to organise duty rotations and the like. He inwardly sighed. To do that, he would need to know the standard practices that the Optio expected – how many men on watch duty, how many on maintenance and so on and so forth. He knew he would get little sleep this night, and not just because of the usual discomfort from an unfamiliar bed.

… … …

“Easy, Tesserarius. …... Sit. ...... So what have you to report?”

“Optio,” began Max, easing his frame into a chair designed for a midget it seemed. “I would prefer to wait a day to give you your answer. There are four men assigned to me from the other companies and it is too early for me to assess their abilities. It would be folly to pass over any possible talent just for a swift decision. Although I'd be almost prepared to wager that they will have dumped their trouble-makers on me. It seems to me that we have a certain relaxed duty rosta up here anyway, there are no reports of barbarians so maybe there is another arrangement of the men that would be more beneficial. I have been here scarce half a day, so I request a little more time to discover the way things are done at the moment, and what the full range of responsibilities is.”

“I am beginning to expect sensible and reasoned argumentation from you. Are you suggesting that MY arrangements are inadequate in some as yet undefined way?”

“Gods no, Optio. I was merely attempting to demonstrate that my lack of local knowledge is currently a hindrance to me carrying out your order to appoint two Decs.”

“Good. Congratulations by the way!”

“Congratulations, sir?”

“Yes. Your resourcefulness yesterday impressed me. Annoyed me, I confess. But impressed me. And the way you formed up to let us pass was nothing short of masterly. But this morning, you have shown me you are a true soldier and I was right in promoting you. You have passed all my little tests with flying colours. So, congratulations.”

“Er, thank you, sir …. I think!”

“I will have a meeting of the Tesserarii later tonight, after the Muster. I suspect that most of your questions, the ones that you will not yet have found answers to, will be answered then. Your additional men have changed the dynamic of what we can achieve and how to go about doing that, so we will all discuss the ideas each of us will have as to how to proceed. All you need to know right now is that 'they' down the valley have some new experimental way of doing whatever, and for that they suddenly need more of this black stone stuff that burns, the stuff called coal. So this coal is now a national resource and its production has to be increased and protected.”

“And I suppose, sir, with all due respect that is, that this fad will be supplanted by something else 'they' think of in their next orgy or whatever it is that promotes their daft ideas?”

“Ours Tesserarius, not to wonder why …...”

The two men looked at each other cynically before laughing.

“Until the muster, then.”

Max stood up, realising he had been dismissed. He came to attention, snapped off a crisp salute, turned on his heel and marched out of the Optio's office in the back of the muster hall. He realised with a shock that his opinion of the Optio had just gone up another notch. 'Wonders will never cease', he thought to himself as he shook his head in amazement.

… … …

The Tube changed gait from a quick march to a standard march, and not just because the uneven ground made it so very difficult to march at the double. They were approaching a wall of rock and Max, as leader, could see no easy way through it, nor any easy way over it. The stream, however, came out of it, so there was probably a passage through it. That investigation, though, could wait for another day, the distance they had come was just about right for a meaningful training 'run'.

He led his men up to the rockface and they took a breather leaning on it, facing back down the way they had come. The stream emerged from a narrow gorge to their left, and where they were were a good few boulders lying around which affording a series of seats, all of dubious comfort. He looked up, idly wondering where the fallen rocks had come from and saw that there was a fissure up above them, which ran ever narrower down to where they were seated or leaning. Peering awkwardly through the gap, which was about as wide as his head down here, Max tried to make out details. It looked to him as though there was a cap of extra hard rock over the sort of rock needed for road surfacing and house foundations and bridges and the like. But he was no stone expert. He sighed. So he would have to return with one of those then – another question to be answered some time in the future.

He turned round and studied the ground they had come up, following the stream of course. He could see several other springs bubbling up to contribute to the water flow. From where he was now, the stream had carved a deeper cut in the valley floor, a cut which was far narrower this end than further down. It seemed this country favoured canyons, gorges and cuts. This 'extra' bit that was carved out of the valley floor made a sort of long, thin triangle. Maybe a third of the way down to where a twist took everything from view was a series of mini falls. He had noticed, as they came up, a further sudden drop, and a larger falls down at the widest point before it did that twist and narrowed again. He idly thought that that point would make an ideal place to construct a dam, if this remote outpost were ever to get more widely inhabited.

“Ok, my boyos. Time to get back to the camp. It's all downhill, so lets see if we go the whole way at the double, eh? Two abreast to start with. Who wants to be with me?”

His cheerful announcement was met with some mostly good-natured groans, but his four additions from the other companies were the ones who were most out of shape and therefore groaned the loudest, without the good-natured part. Max was wise enough to let his men, and their teasing, be the driving force right now. At least these four still remembered the passus length and the marching cadences. So it wasn't going to be a REALLY tough job to bring them into line.

When they got back to the camp for their midday meal, Max had formed a few ideas as to how to proceed. It was time to ask questions of those who had been stationed here a while.