Heir of Aurelian

Marcellus awoke in his tent. The cold air of the last days of fall penetrated through the flaps, causing the man and his lover to shiver. As a result, Marcellus clung tightly to Sigefrida for warmth. Marching, from Raetia to Italy, had taken its toll on the young general. Day in and day out, he had to pretend like he was calm and that he was in control of his emotions. However, he had never been more anxious, nor heartbroken in his entire life.

He doubted whether his mother was still alive, and even if she was, she existed as a prisoner in the dungeons of Ravenna. Undoubtedly terrible things had been done to her. Thinking upon such cruelty, Marcellus felt his heart constrict, as if a cage of thorns surrounded it, and every time the organ beat it was pricked.

The only thing that kept him going was the warmth that his slave exuded. She had been with him every step of the way and had aided him in his grief. Upon sensing the cold, Sigefrida grasped hold of her lover’s hand before shifting around under the fur covers so that her face was meeting her master’s. She stole the first kiss of the morning, while the man was struggling to fall back to sleep.

Upon seeing that the woman was in the mood for some intimacy, a smile spread across Marcellus’ lips as his eyelids opened to reveal his olive green eyes. He grabbed hold of the Suebi woman’s beautiful face and caressed it lightly, before entangling his lips with her own. He did not hesitate to grope her substantial breasts as he pressed her beneath his firm body. Just when the two of them were about to become entwined, the flaps to the tent opened, and Sarus revealed himself.

Marcellus sighed heavily upon realizing that someone had intruded on his fun, while Sigefrida hid her face in the pillow. Shame and embarrassment filled her heart as she tried to ignore Sarus’s presence. The Foederati commander shifted his gaze away from the scene, and whistled innocently as if he hadn’t seen anything while escaping from the tent.

It would appear Marcellus and Sigefrida would not be able to take part in their morning tradition. As such, the two of them quickly got dressed, before Marcellus exited the tent and slapped Sarus on the back of the head.

“This better be important!”_.

Sarus ignored everything that had just happened and quickly reported the situation to the General.

“Sir, we have trouble…”

Marcellus sighed once more before he openly expressed his thoughts on the matter

“Of course we do… lead the way!”

With this, he quickly followed Sarus into the heart of the encampment, where a group of Roman Soldiers and Gothic Foederati were in the heat of an argument. Sarus did not even have time to explain the situation, as one of the Romans pushed a gothic soldier and shouted at him.

“Filthy barbarian! You’re only tolerated because we need fodder for the battlefield!”

The Goth immediately responded to this shove by punching the man in the face.

“Fucking cunt! I’ll have your head!’

Evidently, the man had some skill in pugilism, because he quickly sent the roman soldier tumbling to the ground. This violence created a chain reaction where both sides quickly fought in a grand melee. Marcellus merely shook his head as he watched the men fight with fists and feet. If he did not do something soon, then this would undoubtedly turn bloody. As a response, he shouted as loud as he could, drowning out the noise of the conflict.

“On your feet, maggots!”

The men ceased their hostility when they heard the voice of the General, and dragged themselves to their feet, where they dusted off their clothes. Marcellus gazed upon them with fury in his eyes as he scolded them.

“If somebody does not give me an unbiased report about what has occurred here in my camp, I will have you all flogged!”

Neither side was willing to compromise, and as such, the report ultimately came from a bystander who had observed the entire conflict.

“Sir, our side started the fight. Legionary Vulso had wrongfully slapped the meal out of a goth’s hand. The victim demanded compensation, and as a result, the two exchanged words. Some unnecessary things were said by both sides, which caused the brawl that you witnessed.”

Marcellus quickly glared at the man named Legionary Vulso and interrogated him ruthlessly in front of his peers.

“Is what this man said true?”

The man tried to defend his actions. After all, he did not believe he was in the wrong.

“I don’t believe anything I said is unfactual. The goths have butchered our people, and now they expect us to treat them well? It is simply inexcuse-“

Before the man could finish his complaint, Marcellus drove his fist into his sternum so hard that the man collapsed to his knees. From there, he grabbed hold of the man’s head and kneed him viciously. This caused the man to collapse to the floor entirely, where Marcellus called out to everyone who witnessed this event.

“Whatever petty squabbles you have with each other, end them now! We are at war! The empire is surrounded on all sides, and the emperor is a man who has brought us to the brink of ruin. I have thirty-six thousand men under my command! With no reinforcements in sight. I do not care if you are roman, or goth, you fight together as one army, against a world of enemies!”

The men, who were previously been at arms, gazed down at their feet in silence, refusing to meet the eyes of their general. They were utterly ashamed of their actions. Even the Goths felt a hint of guilt as they realized the situation they were in.

They had trusted Marcellus to lead them to victory, and allow them to have fertile lands to settle. Fighting each other now would only result in a bloody defeat, and none of them desired such an end.  Upon seeing that nobody was voicing a complaint, Marcellus quickly dished out the punishments to the soldiers in his army.

“Every single man who has taken part in this brawl will be sent to the front lines the moment the battle occurs. You will fight together as one unit, or you will die together as strangers. I will not tolerate infighting among my ranks. You are all lucky I need you fit and ready for combat, or else I would have the flesh stripped from your backs! Be thankful for the mercy I have shown you this day!”

After saying this, Marcellus withdrew from the scene where he waited in line for his daily rations. He would not use his authority as general to eat first, nor would he eat anything that his own soldiers did not dine upon. It was one of the reasons why Marcellus’ soldiers all respected him. He lived under the same conditions as the soldiers in the army, with the exception that he had a beautiful slave tending to his needs.

However, this was not something that he was alone privy to. There were plenty of slaves and prostitutes in the followers’ camp. Many of the villagers from Castra Regina had followed the army, providing basic services, and the village girls who were particularly desperate would sell their bodies in exchange for food.  So, in a way, Marcellus lived in the same way that the soldiers in his army did. He just had exclusive access to Sigefrida.

Marcellus thought about this as he sat at a table and dined on his rations alongside his soldiers. The scuffle had been stopped before it turned bloody, and the perpetrators were punished. As for the man who had spoken out against the men who started it, Marcellus would ensure that he was protected from any form of retaliation that the scoundrels might pursue.

Though this was just a minor event, it served as a reminder to all the troops that they were a single army united against a world of enemies, and if they did not stand together, then they would surely fall in battle. Ordius and Primus witnessed this event and were further convinced that they were right to follow Marcellus in rebellion against Honorius.

Had the emperor been witness to a similar dispute among his own ranks, he was unlikely to solve it so swiftly, or even at all. This was the difference between Marcellus and Honorius. One was a seasoned commander who had proven his competency as both a leader of men and a ruler over a large territory. The other was grossly incompetent and foolish, whose actions had caused the Empire to fall to the brink.

It was the firm belief of all men in this army that if Honorius were not replaced with a more capable leader, then the Empire would not survive the century. Thus, they had all banded together Roman and Goth alike to put an end to the false emperor’s reign, and seat the most capable man on the throne of the Western Roman Empire. In the grand scheme of things, such petty squabbles were beneath them and their goals. As a result, the men who had fought just recently quickly mended their wounds, and agreed to fight on the front lines together as penance for their actions.

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