Avunculus was correct, the only person I might trust with my visions re-surfacing would be the Praetor. Quintillius Bentarius Damaticus Nerva knew my gens well, from that long war mother and father served under him during. A relationship that continued to the recent past. In many ways, I owed this position now, as my uncle's aide, to his final actions as Praetor. In those last days before the first of the Decuria's purges, he moved to ensure the Custos last recruitment cycle before that purge included not just those of the Insulae. After his removal from office, all we received proved to be just fools from the islands.
Despite his leaving office, he still wore that gold inlayed armor, marked with the Imperial Eagle, the Spear of the Triarium added sometime in the last few, over his right breast. I noted, though, that there seemed to be a coat of tarnish unusual for him on that lorica. Given a recent transit of the Sands, I bet it was just from his journey, not lack of attention to detail or wealth to spruce up.
Which he proved by his first words.
"Not like you to keep me waiting, Mattio." Delivered with a warm grin, a tense edge still lay under the comaraderie. "Nor allow some ide to be the reason."
"Disciplinary action, amicus." My uncle's grin of pleasure at being reprimanded lowered my head in shame over arguing on my own. "But something came up in it that you need to be aware of."
One glance, and the Praetor's grin faded. "That Varus boy. Your nephew, if I remember correctly?"
"Yes, Praetor." A glance at me, urging silence, I respected. "Judging by your look, not someone you wished to see?"
Bentarius never stood on formality, and took the chair opposite my uncle's desk. The less than perfect posture spoke more of exhaustion than sloth. "Not immediately, though my trip was to contact him for the Flamenis, in part." His gaze upon me forced a shifting of my feet. "They claim the Augurii speak of tough times ahead of him. The kind that try one's anima."
The Dux took his own seat, wearily. "Ill news, Bento."
The Praetor shrugged. "What else would you expect me to bear, Mattio."
Both then looked at me hard.
"Out with it, boy. What has you in this office being called out on the carpet?" The Praetor commanded. "Best not be another gathering of the Tris Triconis."
Uncle laughed. "That will come with the end of the hebdoma, Praetor."
"Triari, please. Would not want the Decuria thinking I still believe I command the Legions and Custorii." His gaze relaxed a bit. "Visions, again boy?"
"Yes sir." My murmur barely audible.
Running a hand through his white mane, still with hints of fading red at the temples, he sighed. "Damnatio. I'd hoped this was me bearing warning, not a mission to try talking about getting you into a temple for some training on that doni, Varus."
"Ran into a few of our eastern kindred who offered me such, sir." I shrugged, wishing for a chair for this conversation. Standing left one feeling you still stood on the carpet, as the old phrase went. "Given how things have moved since, I'm not sure my donum, any of them, witll ever respond to training."
The Triari's cheeks puffed out as he exhaled between closed lips. "Not a thing that offers promise, given the skills the Sextus and Sylvani hold in the use and guiding of those seeking such." He motioned to the urn of kaf uncle kept in the office. "Pour us a round of that foul stuff, son, Then grab a seat. This sounds like something I better deal with right off the bat."
"Sir." I nodded. "Need room in the cup for cream or sugar?"
"Don't blaspheme, boy. Never profane the bean. Drink it straight or stick with tea." He chuckled. That gave me a strange insight into my uncles own tastes to beverages. Myself, I preferred tea, but I knew better than to ask to leave the room to gain a cup.
"Dux, it might be best if we post my extra duties first." I tried delay tactics, not wishing to suffer the discussion to come. Especially the lecture over my long reluctance at harnessing my doni in a temple.
"Call in that orderly, Mattio. Little snot-nosed Islander never offered me a drink during that hora and half I cooled my heels out there." The old elf's snort reminded me of Umbradinor's own expressions of contempt, bringing a reluctant, and rather guilty grin to my face.
"Billenius, call Sticcius in." His frown of anger burrowed new lines in his face. "Sorry, Bento. The Legion stuck him on us three hebdoma ago. I have no other duties for one recently injured, beyond that desk."
"Injured, my ass. Sticcius is a lazy fool. And a bully." Then the retired commander grinned evilly. "He also is not Legion. Get him to mucking out the stables, Mattio. About the only thing the Sinistrae are good for. And it will let him know you have been tipped he's here to spy on things here."
"Perfidio. Bill, get the kaf." He rose. "Sneaking in one that way under my nose is irksome." He glanced at the Triari as he strode around his desk, holding the revised duty roster. One already amended with my own extra duties, I was sure. "Thought he looked like one of Strabo's serpents."
"Glad to out the prick to you formally, then." The Triari saluted uncle with the cup of the brew I handed him. "Invite the ungracious fool in. I'd love to see his face once he knows he's been outed."
The half-grin uncle tossed us left me nervous. Unlce's hatred of the Centuria Sinstra made my own look like mild distaste. "Sticcius, get in here." His roar shocked me, but the Triati chuckled at it.
"Sir?" Decimiviilli Daetlius Sticchius asked, entering smugly. "Need this vagrant or that joke of a aide of your's removed?"
"Strabo may have foisted you upon me, Centurio, but I feel no need to keep a spy in my office." Uncle barked. "Lose that crutch, and post this list of extra duties on the board outside. Then, if you feel the need to do something useful, there's a whole stable that needs the shit shoveled out of it over on the west wall."
I admit to taking pleasure at Sticcius' sudden surprise and unease. He tried to throw around his own rank, a foolish thing in my uncle's office. "My orders say I stay in this office. And Sir Strabo outranks you, foolish little Dux."
"The only fool here is one who thinks he slithered in like a snake to eat the eggs in the henhouse." The Triari said, taking another sip of his kaf.
"You were dismissed, old man." Sticcius sneered. "Shame you could not have been judged guilty of the treasons you've committed. I'd have cut off your head myself."
That triggered a snort from me. I'd seen this brute on the practice field. His sword work focused on sheer strength of the blows delivered, lacking the skill to hit a mark. "Doubt you'd find the neck at all, Sticcius. I've seen you practice. Best you could hit would be a back or head blow."
The implication of back-stabbing went right over his head. "Silence, little Custos. We'll deal with you soon." He snarled, more insulted I even spoke to him than at being called an assasin backhandedly.
Uncle Mattio spoke before I could stick my foot deeper in my mouth. "Well, Strabo only commands the Legions, not the Custorii, and definitely not my Catervae. So, either clean the stables, after you post this, or leave the Campii." That voice I knew all too well. Uncle rarely expressed anger vocally, normally he just used dark looks or glances. "Now, do as ordered, or leave."
Looking at the duty roster, he grinned. "Well, at least one of ours will oversee the little prima donna in the extra duties." Then his face fell. "Why is he being rewarded with command of the East Gate for two hebdomae?"
"I trust Custos Varus. You, the other choice for such duty, have yet to earn such. And never will, given your lies about your status." Uncle said flatly. "Now, post the roster, and leave. Preferrably the Campii, but at least vacate this office unless I send for you again."
The Triari tossed a nasty comment to Sticcius over his shoulder. "Send my regards to your commander. Tell him I hope to catch up with him soon."
That comment sent chills down my spine. The Praetor, never known for holding grudges before, implied he nursed one now. Knowing his ability to take vengeance when needed from the affair with the Flame Queen when I entered the Custorii, I feared the repercussions to come.
Sticcius got that message, apparently. He left in stormy silence that followed.
Uncle stood looking out the window, grunting with surprise after the front door slammed.
"Amazing. He actually obeyed me."
The grunt from the Triari said more than his words. "No other choice. At least the rumors about the Centurion in their midst should keep his sabotage to a minimum from here out." He gazed at me. "Not really encouraging gossip, boy. But some times commanders need help from the scuttlebutt."
I nodded, realizing this was more lesson in command than an order. Which let me relax a bit. You never give such schooling to one without a future to use it. When my uncle took his seat, I grabbed the spare chair off the wall, and settled in for the part I feared might change that.
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