Legionary(18)

‘Aye, and on the first day I joined up, Zosimus here was supposed to show me how to use the bow drill to light a campfire.’ Quadratus spliced his words with laughter, his blonde moustache jostling. ‘He was all wrinkled and serious looking, as if he was some kind of survival expert . . . then the bloody fool goes and sends a shower of sparks over himself – a moment later and the hem of his tunic’s on fire!’ Quadratus doubled over at this, roaring, and the rest of the bench erupted in laughter too. ‘Nearly burnt his bloody cock off!’

Zosimus’ complexion reddened, his anvil jaw straining as he fired angry glances around the table. ‘Aye, well, it’d be wrong of me to tell these lads here of the time you once farted a whole contubernium out of the barrack blocks at Durostorum, eh?’ He met the eyes of the others around the bench and jabbed a finger at the big Gaulish centurion. ‘Had three portions of bean and root stew and apparently he was at it all night. The other seven lads in there with him couldn’t take it any more, they came stumbling out, retching and choking. One of the poor sods ended up having nightmares for weeks afterwards!’

There was a hiatus of shocked faces around the bench, then they erupted once more in laughter.

Quadratus’ beaming smile faded at this and he shook his head and smoothed at his moustache as if in firm denial, booming out over the hilarity; ‘Nah, nah, that’s a long way from the truth. The beans were on the turn, you see, and I only had two portions . . . ’

At that moment, a hand slapped on Pavo’s shoulder. He twisted round to see Sura. ‘You’re feeling better?’

Sura pushed in to sit next to Pavo. ‘I told you – a couple of hours sleep and I’d be in fine fettle.’

Pavo was unconvinced, seeing the odd, ruddy glow on his friend’s skin. ‘How did you know we were here?’

Sura cocked an eyebrow. ‘I just followed the twisted scowls of the local populace – they’re a sober bunch, eh?’

‘Aye, I wonder that we shouldn’t be moving onto watered wine soon?’

‘I’ll let you suggest that to those two,’ Sura nodded to Zosimus and Quadratus at the end of the bench.

Just then, Felix guided a cook from the tavern kitchen over to the bench. The man carried a long platter with seven steaming joints of lamb on it. He placed it down and at once all eyes turned to the fare, which Felix supplemented with pots of honey and piles of nuts.

‘See?’ Pavo said. ‘Felix will keep us right. He knows that’s the sensible way to calm the drinking – some good food’ll sober us up and have most of the lads feeling sleepy in no time.’

As if to confound him, Felix then piped up to the cook; ‘and send out, ooh, another ten jugs of wine while you’re at it, will you?’

‘You were saying?’ Sura chuckled.

‘This lot is on Tribunus Gallus,’ Felix grinned to the table.

As the rest of the legionaries cheered at this, Pavo could not help but grin. He helped himself to a chunk of the tender, sweet lamb and then had his fill of nuts and honey. As he washed it down with a generous swig of wine, he realised a hangover was unavoidable. It was then he heard the scuffling of boots from the street.

He twisted to see a cluster of some forty garrison legionaries. They were off-duty and without their weapons, but some still wore their mail shirts and bore the weary looks of men who had just finished a punishing shift of sentry duty. As they passed by the Claudia bench, some anecdote from Quadratus evoked another chorus of raucous laughter. At this, the leader of the sentries fired an instinctive and frosty glare at them, his sharp nose wrinkling. His hair was long and tucked behind his ears – a distinctly un-Roman style that seemed popular in this part of the empire.

A few of the Claudia legionaries noticed his sour look and replied with indignant frowns. Pavo felt the first twinge of trouble.

‘Relax,’ Sura nudged him with an elbow and pinged a fingernail against the end of his cup. ‘Once they’ve had a few jugs of this stuff in them they’ll be at ease too.’

The evening wore on and Pavo reckoned it was nearing midnight. A group of local young women – dark-eyed and dusky-skinned – came in at that point. They were dressed in simple robes and seemed eager to keep themselves to themselves. They took up a bench between the Claudia men and the sentries – who supped at their drinks and chatted in muted tones. Sura was swift to approach the women. When they refused his offer to come over to the Claudia bench, he then had a jug of wine sent to their table. Soon, the women cast aside their shyness and began chatting with the Claudia legionaries. Pavo shook his head with a smile as he saw the women now bore a warm glow in their cheeks just like his comrades. But he noticed the sharp-faced sentry’s glare. He was making no attempt to conceal his disgust at the behaviour of the foreign soldiers.