Adas watched them disappear into the crowd. A particularly unpleasant childhood memory surfaced. His father had reprimanded him for the same reason, but with a different result. He signaled for Lucius to approach. “Octavean, your behavior is inexcusable. I will report it to Centurion Valentius.” Adas curtly dismissed him.
The legionary turned away quickly to hide his calculating expression. Involving Valentius was what Lucius wanted. As a legionary, he was not allowed to initiate direct contact with any cohort centurion, but Lucius had an understanding with Valentius. Pretending to be concerned by the reprimand, he rejoined the other two legionaries. He inspected the last item of clothing and picked up the dice.
“Ohe! I want this tunic with no seams. Let’s cast the lots and see who gets the highest number.” The other two nodded agreement, relieved that Lucius’s temper had cooled.
Lucius had never been promoted above the rank of legionary, in spite of his intelligence, battlefield prowess, and regal stature. A daunting curse seemed to hang over his head. His father gave him to the army when he was eight years old, hoping his son would acquire the best benefits the Roman army offered. His hope was more than possible since Lucius excelled at his training. His superior strength, quick reflexes, and fast thinking made him the most feared sparring partner among the boys in training.
Junio, the chief training officer, set Lucius on a special program since he showed the most promise. Lucius was eager to please his training officers, but mostly, he wanted to please his father. Lucius understood that his parents let him go so he might have a better life. But the dream was shattered when he, at the age of eleven, killed a man. That man was Rufino Equitius Octavean, his own father.
It was a double tragedy. Not only did Lucius lose the father he dearly loved, he never saw his mother, Sevina, again. She never remarried, but lived in Rome, sharing her time between the homes of two daughters. Lucius sent a portion of his pay to her every month, and she accepted it. He made no attempt to see her, neither did she ask to see him, nor did she acknowledge his financial support. Worried the pay claims weren’t getting to her, he sent letters to his sisters. They confirmed their mother received them every month. However, guilt for his father’s death made his heart grow as cold and unforgiving as the blade of a sword. His only goal was to stay alive longer than the next man.
Adas Clovius Longinus was on the opposite end of life in the Roman world. His father, Aquila, was a wealthy land owner and architect who bore the title of Consul, the highest elected magistrate in the Roman Empire. However, Adas was not allowed to take advantage of his family’s position. As a child, his parents taught him humility, but not just toward them. Adas was expected to treat the servants the same way, which was unusual for a wealthy Roman family.
Fascinated by horses, Adas spent most of his time with the horse masters at the garrison in Rome. They mentored the teenager in battle skills and horse care. By the time Adas turned sixteen, he could go the distance with some of the legionaries in sparring competitions. Adas idolized the veterinarim, and wanted to be a primus veterinarius. To do that, he could join the army when he turned seventeen.
His father did not approve of his son’s career choice. Likewise, Adas resented his father’s intolerance of the “unsophisticated” soldiers at the garrison. As Aquila attempted to control his son, Adas grew increasingly rebellious. Adas’s mother, Marsetina, hoped father and son would eventually bond, but as her son matured that hope faded. When Adas enlisted in the army without consulting his father, Aquila was furious. He wanted his son to become an architectural engineer like himself and take over the management of their extensive vineyards. After Adas enlisted as an apprentice medicus veterinarius, he was stationed in Caesarea Maritima in Judea. Communication with his father was only through letters Adas wrote to his mother. Since Judea was a long way from Rome, Adas rarely came home on leave. The two men became virtual strangers.
When Adas was given centurion status, he was also forced to transfer to Jerusalem. These were changes he did not want. Aquila’s status among the voters was enhanced by having a centurion for a son, but Marsetina was heartbroken. In Caesarea, Adas had served primarily as a veterinarius and secondarily as a reserve battlefield soldier. Now, he would be a frontline warrior. Adas hated not earning the centurion title honorably. However, to refuse the title would spell disaster for his father. Emperor Tiberius could be vindictive if his “offers” were rejected.
Initially, the title of centurion bestowed on such an inexperienced youth fueled the hostility of the other centurions and legionaries, alike. To make matters worse, the young centurion was easily recognized, so keeping a low profile was impossible. The Antonia Fortress housed a full legion of ten cohortis comprised of about five thousand soldiers. Gossip spread quickly, especially in the legionaries’ barracks where row after row of bunks provided easy access to the conversations of others. Adas was a favorite subject.
Keenly aware of the penalty for showing disrespect to an officer, the legionaries were careful with their judgments, but Adas knew how they felt. In fact, he didn’t blame them. To go from a veterinarius medicus to a centurion in seven years was an insult to every ranking officer, but Adas was determined to earn their respect.
As Adas put himself in harm’s way before his men and treated them well, their attitudes changed. Many soldiers were foreigners who joined to acquire Roman citizenship. Adas could usually speak with them in their native languages, being fluent in Greek, Egyptian, and Hebrew, which cultivated their favor. On occasions, Adas had to treat an injured soldier himself. Wounded soldiers claimed the centurion’s calming voice distracted them from their pain. Adas used the same technique with injured horses to reduce their fear. It usually worked.
Even though Adas was building a solid relationship with his men, he still resented his father’s interference. He suspected Aquila, having never served in the military, had no idea of the difficult position he had forced upon his son. However, the worst result of the transfer to Jerusalem was that it broke his heart.
During his years in Caesarea, Adas developed a close tie to the family of his commanding officer, Centurion Marcus Claudius Cornelius, the cohort centurion of the 2nd Cohors of the 10th Legio in Caesarea. Adas suspected his father heard of his loyalty to Cornelius and was jealous. Aquila Longinus instigated an investigation of Cornelius when he was forced to kill a man who was threatening his own family. Instead of a reprimand, Cornelius was promoted to Primus Pilus Centurion, of the 1st Cohors. Adas was greatly pleased at this outcome, especially since it seemed to undermine his father’s intentions.
Not long after Cornelius was promoted, he invited Adas to dinner at his villa. It was the first time he met Dulcibella, the second daughter of four children of Marcus and Iovita Cornelius. She was nine years old; he was seventeen. Whenever he was invited to Cornelius’s home, Adas answered the inquisitive child’s questions and listened to her observations. He was amused at her attempts to garner his attention. He granted her requests for lessons in Greek, archery, and horseback riding. Unlike the children in Rome, and some of the adults, she showed no fear of him, despite the disconcerting look of his eyes.
In return, Dulcibella found Adas to be a friend who did not patronize her need to learn and explore the curiosities of life. As time passed, Dulcibella matured into a lovely, intelligent, young woman, and Adas looked forward to their time together. When she reached fifteen, Adas recognized his relationship with Dulcibella was changing. He no longer thought of his future without her. In fact, if he had been given the title of centurion, with no transfer, he would have asked for Dulcibella’s hand in marriage, since only centurions were allowed to wed. But the transfer to Jerusalem postponed this possibility. Even though Adas hated to leave her, and she was willing to go, he felt it would be unsafe to take her to Jerusalem.
On his last day in Caesarea, he gave a pair of miniature greyhound puppies to Dulcibella. Hugging the squirming little pups, she smiled at him with her turquoise eyes as the sea breeze swept
