Another year off the roll allotted to me by Jupiter and still I gaze upon the walls of Syracuse having never set foot within the city. Yet now the banner of the SPQR flies over the city and Scipio controls it from within. There was a coup a few months back and the Epirote commanding the city was overthrown, the gates were thrown open and Scipio marched in with a small contingent. The rest of the army were ordered to remain outside. I must admit I admired Scipios balls, had it been a trap he would have had no chance. Of course had it been a trap we would have assaulted the city, no matter how grievous our losses, and slaughtered every man, woman and child within, and the Syracusans knew that. Scipio is still arranging how the city will be governed when we leave, seemingly even more people call it home than Rome so it is a new problem for us. There are some in the camp who feel we must rule such a great city directly and only someone with pro-consular authority should be allowed to govern.
Still what do I care? The only reason I want to see the city is to sample their wine and women. Life for me has continued to improve, I am now signifer for our century. Our old one was invalided out after an infection meant his foot had to be amputated. I'm still amazed he managed to survive, still what use is a one footed legionary? A few days after he left , as we sat around our campfire, our centurion was talking to one of the tribunes. They were looking at us and shaking their heads, then nodding, obviously trying to agree on something. The tribune looked familiar but I couldn't quite put my finger on why. Cotta, the commander of the allied ala, rode up and dismounted before embracing the tribune. Then I got why he had looked familiar, he was obviously Cotta's son. The three of them then continued the discussion with Cotta looking over us. He looked past me, then his eyes returned to me with a hazy recognition. He scratched his chin, then pointed at me and asked the centurion something. He nodded and pointed again, smiled slightly, embraced his son, got on his horse and rode off.
A few days later the centurion called me over and told me the good news, "Cotta says you are a good man for the job, just remember you are not with the irregulars now. Any "creative book keeping" will be dealt with harshly." So now I am better paid, I actually have a say how the century is run and I don't have to sleep with my contubernium any more, I have my own tent. The one bad point is as the standard bearer I have no chance of getting out of parades now, and I will be a target when we go into battle. The best part is I get out of all the manual labour, no more road building, ditch digging, fence fixing or scavenging for me. It also seems a man of some import has his eye on me, perhaps signifer should not be the limit of my ambition.
Re: Life of a Roman: An AAR
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