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Автор Джеймс Мейс
James Mace
Chapter I: Teutoburger Wald
Chapter II: Aftermath of Disaster
Chapter III: The Recruit
Chapter IV: From Civilian to Soldier
Chapter V: Preparations for War
Chapter VI: The Legionary
Chapter VII: The First Campaign
Chapter IX: Destruction of the Marsi
Chapter X: Return to Teutoburger Wald
Chapter XI: Frustration and the Roads Home
Chapter XII: At the Ahenobarbi Bridges
Chapter XIII: The Trap is Sprung
Chapter XIV: Winter Quarters
Chapter XV: Ambushing the Raiders
Chapter XVI: The New Optio
Chapter XVII: Into the Heart of Germania
Chapter XVIII: The Weser River
Chapter XIX: Calm Before the Storm
Chapter XX: Idistaviso
Chapter XXI: For Wrath, For Vengeance
Chapter XXII: The Rout and the Aftermath
Chapter XXIII: The Stronghold and Final Justice
Chapter XXIV: Redemption
Chapter XXV: The Bitter sweet Aftermath of War
Chapter XXVI: Return to Rome
Chapter XXVII: The Legionary versus the Gladiator
Chapter XXVIII: The Rewards of Triumph
Chapter XXIX: Soldiers of Rome
James Mace
Soldier of Rome: The Legionary
“Thrice happy is the nation that has a glorious history. Far better it is to dare mighty things, to win glorious triumphs, even though checkered by failure, than to take rank with those poor spirits who neither enjoy much nor suffer much, because they live in the gray twilight that knows neither victory nor defeat. ”
Chapter I: Teutoburger Wald
The mass of trees grew thicker, the sky darker, and what had started off as a mild summer shower had turned into a torrential downpour. The small contingent of Roman horsemen was already soaked and shivering, their Germanic guides laughing at their plight. Soon after entering the forest, they came upon a bog. The mud was thick and slimy, the water smelled rank with stagnation. The group halted as the Germans gazed around. Their leader’s face broke into a sly grin as he saw the path he was looking for. They were getting close.
“How much further?” one of the troopers asked, the rain continuing to drench them, in spite of the tree canopy.
“Not far,” the lead guide answered, “I promise, it will all be over soon. ”
“The gods curse this weather,” another Roman muttered.
“Which gods?” still another one grunted.
As the cold rain slowly trickled down the back of his neck, the barbarian guide laughed to himself.
“What in Hades is the holdup?” he asked, irritated. “You were supposed to find the most expedient route for our column, and instead we’re at a standstill!” He was soaked and freezing, though he did not notice, so hot was his anger. Centurion Calvinus hated and deeply mistrusted the Germans. He could not for the life of him figure out how Varus had ever grown to trust them. The barbarian calmly turned his mount around to face him.
“It was your commanding general who entrusted us with the leading of your men through the Wald. I am sorry that a little summer shower has soured your mood; however, I take it you are not questioning his judgment. ” There was a sneer of defiance on the German’s face, something that only further enflamed Calvinus.
