Chapter Text
“It is I who am surprised you would think if offered the opportunity, an opportunity this leg of mine did not hinder me from fulfilling, I would refuse to serve Rome in the only way I have ever wished to serve her.” Marcus had proudly affirmed to Esca.
“Liar! Liar!!” Was all Esca could still bring himself to shout every time he remembered his former master’s words and how proudly he had said them: with chin lifted high and a smug look on his handsome face. Esca had had to hold himself back from slapping Marcus’ face until it bled, such was his anger. And then to discover Marcus had been shadowing his every move as though anything he did was the Roman’s business; as though he still owned him.
“When I manumitted you, I did not do so with the intention of having you as my freedman, where I still need to know where you are and what you are doing.” Marcus had said and had continued his lie with the following, “I freed you completely…. It is no longer my concern where you go, nor whom you are with.”
Esca was incensed, but he could not tell who he was angrier with: himself or Marcus. After all, the purpose in his visit to Marcus had been to tell the Roman of his feelings for him… to open his heart to him. Marcus, on the other hand, had remained true to what he was: a soldier who lived and breathed for the glory of Rome. Esca should not have been surprised.
The two had been at odds in their plans for the future, through no fault of their own. If anyone, Esca was to blame. How could he have ever thought Marcus any different than any other soldier who serves the empire? No matter the nobleness of his heart or the inherent beauty of his soul, he was a Roman first and a friend second.
Esca had been a fool! A fool willing to turn his back on his own people to turn only toward Marcus and a life at his side. But Lugh had seen Esca’s weakness and would not allow it, of that Esca was certain. Otherwise, Marcus would not unwillingly have confessed his knowledge of Esca’s whereabouts, and his purposeful investigation of Ariane. Esca fell to his knees in a grateful gesture to the god of the Celts. He thanked the king of their gods for not having allowed him to fall victim to his own weakness and for having opened his eyes to who Marcus truly is.
Esca gathered himself, renewed strength and determination filling him throughout, jumped on his horse and continued his journey in the direction of Isca Brigantium; to his people, to his future, and to his destiny.
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Marcus stood slightly behind the Legatus’ right shoulder as his superior spoke to engineers about Emperor Antoninus’ order to begin work on the second wall to assure the safety and protection of the first. But Marcus’ mind was not on the second wall, and much less on the first one, although the latter held greater meaning. Marcus’ thoughts were on Esca for he had heard nothing of his friend for near a year and Marcus wondered what had become of him.
Oh, he knew Esca had gone to join his tribe and take the mantel of its Chieftain, but that was not what gnawed at the Roman’s thoughts every day and every night. Marcus wondered if Esca had fathered any children with Ariane. Had he made her his wife? How deeply had he grown to love her? Those were the thoughts that kept Marcus from sleep on many a night or tortured his dreams when he did sleep. Why had he not told him how he felt instead of creating a lie that had served for nothing more than to have Esca hate him. At least, if they had parted as friends, but to have parted as enemies…
“Marcus do you have any information that may serve to guide our engineer’s efforts in the building of this second wall?”
Marcus was satisfied with his position as the Legate’s assistant, although it was not in the capacity that he would have wished for himself, but it served its purpose; it kept him occupied and his mind distracted.
“If you wish, Legate, I can sit with them and acquaint them with what I remember.”
“That is an excellent solution, but I think a more excellent solution would be for you to travel to the Wall with them where they may see first hand of what you speak.”
“Yes, Legate.” Marcus agreed even though it was not what he wished. Marcus could feel his heart sink and his stomach flip at the mere mention of returning to the North. Not that it would be in the same capacity, facing both danger and death head on, but the North was far from where Marcus would wish to find himself at any time. Besides… he would be nearer to Esca than he had been since the night of their quarrel.
“Very well… then you will leave by week’s end!” The Legate ordered with a smile and raised arms.
The three engineers bowed their heads at the Legate and exited the room; the very room where Marcus had returned the Eagle with Esca at his side. The Legate then turned to Marcus placing his hand on the former Centurion’s shoulder.
“You seem troubled Marcus. Is there something I should know? Something you are not telling me about the building of that second wall, perhaps?”
Marcus smiled and shook his head. “No, Legate. All is well. I do not anticipate any trouble during our surveying of the lands beyond the first wall, unless… of course… the tribes decide to attack it before we arrive, or while we are there.”
“I have heard of no such recent attacks against the Wall… and it use to happen quite regularly, mind you. But… since your return with the Eagle, your success seems to have humiliated the tribes and they have since been quiet. A renewed fear of Rome and her unconquerable might.”
Marcus, who had come to know first hand, the fearlessness of the Celts, knew better but did not wish to disagree with the Legate; it would suit no purpose. If the Legate wished to believe Marcus’ rescue of the Eagle had instilled the fear and awe of Rome into the tribes, let him think it. After all, the Legate would not believe Marcus were Marcus to argue otherwise. Roman hubris and the delusions it gave birth to; a thing not easily set aside.
That evening Marcus shared the news of his upcoming venture up north with Uncle Aquila, and the latter was not pleased with the news.
“Do you wish me to ask Claudius to send another in your place Marcus?” The elder Aquila volunteered willing to interfere on his nephew’s behalf were Marcus to show the slightest doubt.
“No, Uncle, besides… it is not for long, and it shall give me the opportunity to take to the road once again. A thing I have missed since returning from the North.”
Uncle Aquila nodded understanding and then he grinned widely, “When do you leave, my boy?”
The elder Aquila knew how very much his nephew missed his friend and it was because of it that he had asked his old sparring partner to employ Marcus in a position befitting his accomplishments. The only position worthy of Marcus the Legate could think of was as his assistant, especially since Servius Placidus had been offered some position of note in Rome. The position of assistant to the Legate would keep Marcus’ mind off Esca’s absence, or so Uncle Aquila hoped. At least Esca had gone back to his lands and was surrounded by his own kind and Marcus was the very last thing on his mind. Unfortunately, Uncle Aquila doubted he could say the very same for Marcus.
“By weeks end.”
“Then I pray the gods the journey is a safe and easy one, my boy.” The elder Aquila embraced his nephew warmly as Marcus embraced his uncle in return.
Shortly, thereafter, both men retired to their rooms, but where Uncle Aquila fell to a sound sleep, Marcus tossed and turned most of the night; no different than the night before he and Esca had left Calleva for the northern wilds. Only then, Marcus had not been able to sleep thinking about his father and whether his quest would be a successful one.
This night Marcus lay awake thinking about Esca; thinking and wondering if he would ever see him again. And… might that happen now?
After all, it was not as though the land of the Brigantes was far from the first wall, the Wall of Hadrian, the wall Marcus and Esca had crossed. And it was the thought that Marcus might come face to face with Esca that stole sleep from him that night. What would he do? What would he say? Would Esca pretend not to know him and walk past him as though they were strangers, or would he spit on the floor where Marcus was to walk upon to show his disrespect and hatred toward his one-time friend?
Marcus was unsure, but he was certain of one thing: whatever Esca did, Marcus would not react, for he had only himself to blame.