The Price of War [Wattys Shortlist 2018]

Chapter 5.1 - Camp Bubona

Cratius,

I am in need of a new servant. The last one you sent me had the audacity to drop me and my palanquin as we made our way to the summer feast. I fell into the filthy gutters like a common man. I was horrified that my finer was soiled so. I used my baton to discipline the servant there in the streets, but I feel I may have gone too far. I do not feel this servant will be walking again. He is now uselessness to me and so I cast him out into the streets.

Please ensure the next servant is of a higher quality.

Josephus, keeper of coin for the Church of Mater.

'Left file! Right file! Front tight! Break!' Mallary shouted commands at his troop.

I scrambled to keep up. The heavy wooden shield dragged heavily in my grip. It was our usual morning routine. The fifteen men of second troop were drilling shield formations in the early spring morning. The yard was filled with the sounds of the camp's training. Hundreds of recruits honing their skills in the dust and dirt.

It had not been more than a week since my training had begun with second troop, but I was clearly the weak link. Not just in our shield formations, but in most of the camp's trainings.

It was not just the weight of the shield that I struggled with, but the weight of the soldier's leathers. The same leathers that soldiers wore on the battlefield. In place of the Imperium army's green tunic. We were given one of light blue, a symbol of our recruit status. At first, I felt proud and fierce in such an outfit. Now, it weighed heavy on my shoulders. Sweat soaked underneath.

Mallary was not impressed at my folly in the formation. 'Rabasan! Get that scrawny ass in line with the rest of the troop!'

'Yes, sir!' The shout turned to a wheeze in my throat.

'Mater have mercy, Rabasan. I've had shits harder than you!' The look of disgust plain on Mallary's face.

I had come to understand that insults were common in training. And would usually happen in front of the rest of troop. I don't think there was a thin object in Imperium that my body hadn't been compared to. Washing poles, string beans, and broom handles to name just a few. Regardless of the constant bombardment of insults in front of my fellow recruits, they did not bother me much. I knew what I was and had long come to accept my downfalls. But I wouldn't let these short comings hold me back.

'That'll do us!' Mallary called to his troops 'Shields above the heads, back to the armoury.'

Shields above the head. I could barley even lift my shield, let alone raise it above my head. It was a humiliating and emasculating sight. But I had quickly learned to not grumble and groan at Mallary's orders. Anything other than a "Yes, sir!" is likely to lead to Mallary's fist in your face. Unquestionably obeying orders is the most important lesson you are taught here at the training camp. I saw the sense of it. In war, a soldier needs to obey his superior officer. Dying is a duty that some soldiers are asked to give. I would readily give mine for the empire.

Mallary continued 'Get out your swords. If you all are looking sharp, I'll give you the full fifteen minutes in the Cook House'.

The full fifteen minutes to eat a meal. I can't remember the last time I had sat down to enjoy a meal. All our meals now were taken in the Cook House, on the bottom floor of the barracks. Meals were prepared for us and we would wait in line to be issued our share. More often than not we were allowed ten minutes. But a soft lad like me was always put to the back of the troop queue. It usually left me with two minutes to finish my meal. It was not all bad though. Everyday we had meat, something I had never experienced before. The smell emanating from the Cook House was tantalising after a hard day of drilling.