allegiance.”
Although we understood and accepted his reasoning, it was still sobering to hear our general voice his fears about the loyalty of part of his army aloud, and I think he read in our faces our consternation.
“I do not make this decision lightly, because I know that some might see it as an insult.” His voice hardened, the memories of Placentia evidently coming back. “But it’s no more of an insult than was given me by their attempted mut . . .” he clamped his mouth shut, biting off the last word before it could be uttered fully. Such is the specter of dishonor associated with that word that our general did not even want to speak it aloud. Instead, he substituted the word “misunderstanding,” which I thought was a bit generous. If only I knew what lay ahead of us, I am not sure how I would have felt.
~ ~ ~ ~
We departed headquarters a few moments later, Caesar telling us that written orders would be coming our way shortly, but we now had a lot of work to do, and a short amount of time in which to do it. Caesar also informed us that he would be addressing the entire army later that day to announce his plans, so we hurried back to get the men ready for the formation. Delegating the task to my Optio, Scribonius, and confident that the other Centurions would get their own Centuries ready, I plodded across the depot for the main gate, and headed to our apartment to break the news to Gisela. I had learned, to my own peril, the folly of delaying bad news where Gisela was concerned and I prided myself, as I do to this day, on not making the same mistake twice. That does not mean I was looking forward to it in any way, and I remember thinking wryly that I had to remember to put in an order for more crockery, because I suspected there was going to be some breakage in the very near future. I did pause for a moment outside the door to gather myself and was struck by the thought that this was becoming a habit, but unlike other times, I was aware for the first time that there was an alternative, that I did not always have to do this to Gisela and my family. Vibi, as we called him, was too young to know this time, but if I stayed in the army there would be a time when he would be just as hurt as his mother. I shook my head angrily; these were unwelcome thoughts, particularly at this moment, except the idea that I might have a life outside the army had taken root and would not seem to die. Forcing this from my mind, I entered the apartment by way of a stairwell on the outside of the building so I did not have to go through the cloth merchant’s establishment. Gisela was feeding Vibi, who appeared like most of his meal had somehow missed his mouth, and he beamed up at me with outstretched arms, giving me a gummy smile sprinkled with a few white, even teeth. Despite the mess, I welcomed the distraction, swooping him up into the air as he laughed with delight.
“And what brings you home in the middle of the day, Centurion?” Gisela had almost as much food splattered on her as Vibi, but she still looked desirable to me, and she must have sensed it because she added, “Are you here for a quick romp? Can’t you wait until tonight?”
Despite her words, she was smiling up at me, and I knew that if I wanted, I could have had her right then, making me feel even worse. I am not good at hiding my feelings and just as quickly as it had appeared, her smile fled as she searched my eyes. Before I could speak, she took a staggering step and sat back down on the chair from which she had been feeding Vibi.
“You’re leaving again, aren’t you?”
All I could do was nod, bracing myself for the explosion of her temper, automatically checking for breakable or dangerous objects within her reach. But what happened was far worse; instead of anger, I got tears, and lots of them. Gisela threw herself down on the table, covering her head with her arms, and I could see her body wracked by huge sobs. Seeing his mother in such
Although we understood and accepted his reasoning, it was still sobering to hear our general voice his fears about the loyalty of part of his army aloud, and I think he read in our faces our consternation.
“I do not make this decision lightly, because I know that some might see it as an insult.” His voice hardened, the memories of Placentia evidently coming back. “But it’s no more of an insult than was given me by their attempted mut . . .” he clamped his mouth shut, biting off the last word before it could be uttered fully. Such is the specter of dishonor associated with that word that our general did not even want to speak it aloud. Instead, he substituted the word “misunderstanding,” which I thought was a bit generous. If only I knew what lay ahead of us, I am not sure how I would have felt.
~ ~ ~ ~
We departed headquarters a few moments later, Caesar telling us that written orders would be coming our way shortly, but we now had a lot of work to do, and a short amount of time in which to do it. Caesar also informed us that he would be addressing the entire army later that day to announce his plans, so we hurried back to get the men ready for the formation. Delegating the task to my Optio, Scribonius, and confident that the other Centurions would get their own Centuries ready, I plodded across the depot for the main gate, and headed to our apartment to break the news to Gisela. I had learned, to my own peril, the folly of delaying bad news where Gisela was concerned and I prided myself, as I do to this day, on not making the same mistake twice. That does not mean I was looking forward to it in any way, and I remember thinking wryly that I had to remember to put in an order for more crockery, because I suspected there was going to be some breakage in the very near future. I did pause for a moment outside the door to gather myself and was struck by the thought that this was becoming a habit, but unlike other times, I was aware for the first time that there was an alternative, that I did not always have to do this to Gisela and my family. Vibi, as we called him, was too young to know this time, but if I stayed in the army there would be a time when he would be just as hurt as his mother. I shook my head angrily; these were unwelcome thoughts, particularly at this moment, except the idea that I might have a life outside the army had taken root and would not seem to die. Forcing this from my mind, I entered the apartment by way of a stairwell on the outside of the building so I did not have to go through the cloth merchant’s establishment. Gisela was feeding Vibi, who appeared like most of his meal had somehow missed his mouth, and he beamed up at me with outstretched arms, giving me a gummy smile sprinkled with a few white, even teeth. Despite the mess, I welcomed the distraction, swooping him up into the air as he laughed with delight.
“And what brings you home in the middle of the day, Centurion?” Gisela had almost as much food splattered on her as Vibi, but she still looked desirable to me, and she must have sensed it because she added, “Are you here for a quick romp? Can’t you wait until tonight?”
Despite her words, she was smiling up at me, and I knew that if I wanted, I could have had her right then, making me feel even worse. I am not good at hiding my feelings and just as quickly as it had appeared, her smile fled as she searched my eyes. Before I could speak, she took a staggering step and sat back down on the chair from which she had been feeding Vibi.
“You’re leaving again, aren’t you?”
All I could do was nod, bracing myself for the explosion of her temper, automatically checking for breakable or dangerous objects within her reach. But what happened was far worse; instead of anger, I got tears, and lots of them. Gisela threw herself down on the table, covering her head with her arms, and I could see her body wracked by huge sobs. Seeing his mother in such
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