The Winner and destroyer of my dreams - Tale of the Weak 23
One man stands alone...
Juvenal
sooo close
Haha, 'twas a pleasure as always!
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AMBITION
Quintus Macrinus was a career soldier, Primus Pilus after twenty years service in the legion (the highest possible rank for a plebian). He had fought more battles than he could remember, so many that he could no longer account for all his wounds.
Now the Empire was going to wrack and ruin with yet another pretender trying his luck against the Emperor. Quintus felt that there was something faintly unclean about having to fight other Romans, wishing fervently that the common soldiers would just throw off these pallid in-bred drooling cretins the Patrician class was serving up as officers these days and elect commanders from the ranks. Men of experience, men of skill, men who had proved their worth... in fact, men like Quintus himself.
He sighed with despair. His new Tribune was energetic enough, but had a head stuffed with stupid stories of heroism and glory where battles were won by noble gestures rather than the application of intelligence and caution. He was darkly certain the idiot would get them killed in a manner likely to be celebrated by poets down the ages.
After a series of costly skirmishes, Quintus decided to take matters into his own hands. The Tribune was already widely known to be erratic and given to rash impulses, so Quintus began adding a subtle poison to his wine to amplify this mood and hopefully lead to a fatal misjudgement.
Then the Rebels attacked in force and Quintus and his men found themselves sorely pressed, crouching behind shields while a fusillade of pila fell amongst them before the enemy charge. From his position behind the Tribune, he saw the man start twitching and quivering with uncontrollable urges. Knowing that a foolhardy, and hopefully suicidal, act was about to take place, he quickly reached forward to unbuckle the Tribune's cuirass – just to make sure.
Unfortunately the Tribune chose that moment to rush forward screaming some battle quote of the ancients, with Quintus, thumbs trapped in the Tribune's straps, drawn into involuntary pursuit.
As it happened, the Rebels were defeated that day and Legionaries found the bodies of Quintus and his Tribune surrounded by enemy corpses.
Ironically, their posthumous fame grew so great that Quintus was immortalised in legend as the Loyal Soldier, his contentment with his subordinate rôle and eagerness to sacrifice himself to protect his betters drummed into generations of recruits for centuries to come.
Anyway, look forward to next week.
...is my daddy!
