[Mkguild] Roman stopry part 6

[cokane8116 at aol.com]

    The Armamentariumwas located in the Principia; the Headquarters building.    The name reminded Bitt of an issue he hadn’tconsidered when he joined the Legion – language. Thelegion used Latine – the language of the empire. But in spite of his Latinename Bitt’s native tongue was Gaelach. He knew Latine (the fox could read andwrite five other languages) but learning it and actually using it to a nativespeaker were two widely different things. Everyone complained he talked with aterrible accent. Thankfully that got better with practice. What surprised himwas how few Legionnaires called Latine the language of their birth.   In Latine it was an Armamentarium in Gaelach it was simplycalled an Armory. A nice, short, easy to remember name. Everything they namedin Latine seemed to be some long, difficult to pronounce word. More than oncethe fox had to stop in mid conversation and think of the word he wanted inLatine. It was made somewhat easier in that for many of the other Tiroes(recruits) Latine was not their native tongue either. Most of the Legionnaireswere locals, drawn from the surrounding population. And the locals for the mostpart spoke Aramaic; a language the fox had seen written on scrolls but neverreally learned. There was quite a difference between the language used by thescholars and what the local population spoke. He began to learn the languagethrough constant exposure.    By whatever name it was called the armorywas in the Principia. The Principia was in the center of the fortress. Afterpassing through the heavy wooden door that was the entrance the small groupstepped into a courtyard. The four walls of the courtyard were lined with doorsand doorways. On the north side, third door along was of heavy wood, bound withiron and a Legionnaire on guard.    Beyond the door was a large windowless roomthat was filled with racks and shelves holding all sorts of weapons and armor.    Standing there waiting for them was a largebear with fur the color of straw. He was wearing the red tunic of alegionnaire.    The bear looked at Bitt for a long moment.“You will be a problem.”    Bitt scowled and started to speak but thebear spoke first.    “Philip,” the bear ordered coldly.    An older rabbit wearing a somewhat battered,blue tunic came rushing up. “Sir?”    Bitt noticed that he was not a Legionnaire.His tunic was too worn and he carried no weapon at all. Something nolegionnaire would ever do. A legionnaire was always armed. Even if it was onlya pugio or dagger. Many were even buried with one.    “Please help this small fox find somethinghis size,” the Bear ordered then turned to deal with the others.    The rabbit looked at Bitt. “Oh! You will bea problem. You’re short even for a fox.”    “Blame Grandfather Meurig,” Bitt responded.“He always preferred the smaller vixens.”    Bitt got a closer look at the rabbit. Henoticed the rabbit had dark brown fur, so unlike all the other rabbits whichhad a sandier color. Also the lapin’s ears were shorter than most rabbits hehad seen here. All of whom seemed to have long, broad ears.    “My name is Bitilus Aeturitis,” the foxsaid. “But most people just call me Bitt. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”    “My name is Philip and it is good to meetyou Bitt. What are you doing in the Legion?” The rabbit asked. “Your speciesusually goes for Sagitarri, Auxilia or Exploratores.”    “I’ve never had a good aim with a bow andI’ve always wanted to be a Legionnaire. Not an archer or a scout.”    Philip nodded his head slowly. “Fairenough.” The rabbit pointed to back of the room. “We must have something thatwill fit you.”    Bitt looked around at the rack upon rack ofarmor that seemed to go on forever. “Somewhere.”    Bitt looked at the racks filled with armorof various types. Row upon row of them that stretched off to the back of theroom. Those racks not holding armor held weapons. He was surprised by the widevariety of both. Some he had never seen used by a Legionnaire. Some he had onlyglimpsed in pictures and some he had never seen before.    The fox spotted a long pole resting againstthe wall. A four-foot-long pole, smoothed and shaped like a spear had a large,hooked blade on the end. It reminded him of a sickle used for harvesting grain.Certainly not a weapon ever used by a Legionnaire.    He picked up the odd weapon and hefted it.     “That is a Chalduran Hook Lance,” the rabbitexplained. “At least three hundred years old. It was taken during the SecondChaldura campaign.”    “Why keep this odd weapon?” The fox asked.    “Trophies,” the rabbit answered. “And theLegion never wishes to see a good weapon or armor go to waste.”    He looked to his right and saw a bundle ofthin rope neatly curled up and resting on a shelf. After a moment Bittrecognized it as a sling. A simple weapon of braided rope, it could fling astone a good distance. In the hands of an expert slinger it could be deadly.    “That is a slinger taken from a Parthianslinger at the battle of Nisibis,” the rabbit explained. “Forty-two years ago.”    “You know the history of all these weapons?”Bitt asked as he put the hook lance back into it’s place. “You’ve cared andmaintained them?”    The rabbit nodded. “Yes. Me and them are oldfriends.”    “You should write their histories down,” thefox said.    “Why?” The rabbit asked as he tilted hishead to one side.    “Because it’s history and should beremembered,” The fox answered.     “Here we go,” the rabbit said and led him toa wall. It was filled with helmets of all shapes and sizes. Sorted precisely byspecies and size. There was at least fifty helmets there. A few moments ofsearching and the rabbit took down a helmet. He adjusted the straps for amoment. “Try this one.”    Bitt took the helmet and put it on. It was aperfect fit. Even the straps were the right length. He laughed. “Oh you aregood. It fits nicely.”    The rabbit bobbed his head. “Thank you. Nowlet’s get you a shield and find you some armor.”    A few rows over they came upon shieldscarefully stored on racks. Each shield was in perfect shape and had beencarefully painted with a charging bull in gold on a red background. The emblemof the 76th legion. The rabbit walked along the line till he came toa halt. He picked up a shield and examined it for a moment. Then he put it backonto the rack. He repeated this two more times before handing a shield to thefox.    Bitt took a moment to adjust the straps butfound the shield was good. While holding it he could still see over the top anduse his sword. “Perfect!”    “Let’s get you some armor that fits,” therabbit commented. The two resumed looking.    Bitt spotted it. At the end of one row atthe back of the room was a rack tucked into one darkened corner. It waschainmail – a shirt made of iron rings interwoven to form a fine layer ofprotection. The legion called it Lorica Hamata. What initially caught hisattention was that it had full sleeves that covered all the way down to thewrist. Normal Legion armor only covered to the elbow. The rest being protectedby an armguard called a Manica.    He examined the armor closely and found thatbehind the metal instead of the usual wool padding was a layer of soft, supple,blue cloth of a type he had never seen before.    “This cloth underneath is it silk?” the foxasked as he carefully rubbed the material.    “Yes,” the rabbit explained. “We removed theold wool lining and replaced it with silk. It’s a lot cooler.”    A small flash of color caught Bitt’sattention. He looked at the edges of the armor and found that wires of gold,green and blue tightly intertwined into it. Then he caught sight of more wirewoven into a pattern along the bottom front of the armor. He followed the wireand recognized a familiar symbol. A flower.    With a start he realized that this armor wasclan Brachaide armor. HIS clan’s armor. Looted long ago when the city ofSenaloca had fallen. He was holding a piece of his family’s history. He was thefirst person of Cairrge Brachaidhe to touch it in a century. The last person ofhis clan to touch it probably died wearing it and the armor looted from theirbody. He pulled his hand away and found it was shaking.    “Are you all right?” The rabbit asked.Genuinely concerned.    “I’ll be honest,” the fox said in anunguarded moment. “This might be from my homeland. Taken in the fighting withthe empire over the centuries.”    The 76th have fought many enemiesover the years on land and sea,” the rabbit answered.    Bitt pointed to the finger the flower emblemin the metal of the armor. “That is my clan emblem.”    The rabbit lightly traced the flower emblemwith one finger. “I never noticed that before.”    The emblem was clearly visible and as theylooked at it the flower became more prominent and easier to see. “I had hopedto find some of our clan’s history but I never expected to actually findanything,” the fox explained.    “It’s high quality armor,” the rabbitcommented as he lightly touched the armor. “Shame that it’s too large.”     “If it fits,” the fox said simply. “I wearit.”    The rabbit nodded his head. “Fair enough.”    The armor did fit. As the fox slipped it on themetal and cloth seemed to shift to fit the vulpine’s slim form.    The rabbit slowly walked around the foxexamining the armor carefully. “I have tried that on a dozen differentlegionnaires and it’s never fit any of them.”    “I cannot explain it but the armor is mostcertainly responding to your touch. It seems you and this armor have come along way to meet,” the rabbit commented dryly. “My wife would say you werefated to meet.”    “It is Clan Locked,” the fox responded. “Meantto respond to only one of my clan. And remain dormant till then.”    “Magic,” Philip was quiet for a moment. “You’refrom that city the legion took up north,” the rabbit said softly and pointed ina vaguely northerly direction. “Senaloca. The one the legion took a centuryago. That’s where this armor is from.”    Bitt hesitated for a moment. “So the siegeis remembered here?”    The rabbit slowly nodded his head. “It is anofficial day of remembrance. The legion stands down for the day and there is amemorial service. Mostly it is seen as a day to relax. But you haven’t answeredmy question. Are you from there?”    “Yes,” he said slowly. “Yes I am.”    “What are you doing here?” The rabbit asked.“You are a long way from home.”    “I wanted to see the world.” He respondedwith the partial truth. “So I asked to travel far. I had expected to beassigned to a legion here but I never expected it to be the 76th.”    “So what will you do now?” The rabbit asked.    “I didn’t come here to restart a war that’sbeen over for almost a century,” he said softly. “I didn’t come this far tofind my heritage and my countries history. I wasn’t looking for my heritage.”    “It seems your heritage has found you,”Philip responded and tapped the carnivore on the chest.    “Your ancestors were at the siege?” Bittasked. Changing the subject.    “No,” came the lapin’s response. “But manyhere do have them. Our commander is Tertius Nepius Tironacus.”    “Related to Calpurnius Nepius?”    The rabbit nodded. “Calpurnius Nepius is hisesteemed ancestor. He is remembered by name each anniversary.”    “He was given the honorific Tironacus,” thefox said in a disgusted tone. “To honor his taking of the city?”    “Yes, but it seems a poor reward for so manydead,” the rabbit commented.    The fox was silent for a moment and lookedat the rabbit intently for a long moment.    The rabbit shifted nervously. Suddenly awareof how close he was to a predator. “What?”    “You, your ancestors came from Senaloca,” hesaid slowly.    “What makes you think so?” Philip saidnervously.    “You’re fur is darker than the local rabbitsand your ears aren’t as long,” the fox commented. “Your ancestors were AnCaillte. The Lost. Clan taken away as slaves after the city fell. That wouldmake you Clann Luighdech.”    “Me?” the rabbit asked. Confused.    “Where did your ancestors come from?” Bittasked.    Philip shrugged. “I never really thought toask. We’ve always lived here.”    “Are you a slave?” Bitt asked softly.    The rabbit shook his head. “No. GreatGrandpa Lonn earned our freedom. We’ve worked in the legion ever since.”    The fox nodded his head. “You’re doinghonorable work.”    Thank you,” Philip responded. “Did you comeall this way just for things like this?”    “No,” Bitt answered. He looked at the rackthe armor had come from. There is saw a score more sets, all carefully foldedand stored on shelves. Some looked like they had been undisturbed for a longtime.    “Do any of these ever get used?” The foxasked.    Philip looked at the other armor. “No. Theynever fit no matter what we could do. So we just store them.”    Bitt just stared at the armor for a moment.
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