Zodiac Story

Behind Terracotta Walls, The Finest Green Rose Stands Resolute Part 4

She pulled her head out of another latrine. Sometimes she felt like the toilets were endless.

"Are! You! Kidding! Me! What! Is! Wrong! With! This! Latrine!"

At least Marcus was here, and physically well.

"Quit your whining and clean faster if you want to participate in the march!"

Centurion Servius was also here, after saying that they both needed a "lesson in diligence" and wanted to lead by example. All three of them were on latrine duty today before the planned march into Pictish territory. Based on the reports that she and Marcus brought back recently along with other scouting parties, battle with the Picts was imminent.

"Legionnaire Canis."

She stood at attention. "Ave Centurion Servius." The pain had lessened on her back and her head since she came to the Wall on the border of Britannia.

"You mentioned pink cloth fluttering for you to use to patch up Legionnaire Marcus' wounds."

"Yes."

His eyes flashed yellow again. "A sign of Venus' favour."

The goddess of love and the mother of the Roman people? She wanted to ask what that meant when a messenger came in with a scroll and whispered into Centurion Servius' ear. The messenger immediately left.

"What was that?" Marcus asked.

Centurion Servius grunted. "Picts spotted north of the wall. The march will commence at dawn."

She nodded. For some reason, the order, the drilling, even the yelling...this felt right. Knowing what to do, being told what to do, without the burden of having to figure things out for herself...like at the security company she used to—no, still worked at. What company though? Legions don't have companies, she thought as she assembled her lorica segmentata in record time, earning an approving nod from Centurion Servius. Her hasta, galea, scutum, and gladius were all equipped and she lined up in formation alongside two legionnaires she knew as Gnaeus and Septimus.

As they advanced, her errant mind tried to piece together all of her fragmented memories. She used to work for a company unconnected to the legions of Rome...she had fought before, but not in a cohesive unit. She knew who she had fought alongside well, better than even her fellow legionnaires. Actually...how had she come to know their names in the first place?

The trumpet sounded, bringing her full attention to the coming battle ahead. Whatever she was once had since passed, and she was needed here. Something tugged at her gut. Two young girls...they needed her. Then or now? Her gut instinct told her to push all thoughts aside, and so she did. Readying her hasta, she waited for the painted warriors to come pouring out of the fields. Looking at the legionnaires' determined and stoic faces, she felt a little out of place. Who was she before Helvetica—or was she ever at Helvetica? Wouldn't she be able to recall where Helvetica was? How could she not know where she had come from? Was she ever from Helvetica in the first place?

The hastas rattled in anticipation, and the scutums were firmly planted into the ground. All she had to do was to stand her ground. Something within her gut told her she was made for this. The last line of defence against a foe beyond mortal comprehension, standing beside a blinded woman with white wings...

Awwww, are you thinking of us together?

Venus?

One of the many names I took over the centuries, but not my true name.

Who was she?

Tut tut, later.

She wanted to ask more, but there was a crash in the scutums in front of her. The centurion behind her yelled to advance and the hasta on the front lines were lowered. From her view, she observed multiple columns almost buckling against the raiders, but they were easily repelled. A scent entered her nostrils. Trees, paint, dirt, determination, behind the legion, slightly obscured.