Chapter 2 – Recruits

With motivation, any equus makes a good soldier. Foxes are best used in other ways. -Aquilius

Aquilius wondered what he was getting into. This Sa'íd was a common street fighter who had never used a weapon in a fight. He was an amateur. His trade skills: read and write plans, work a forge, and craft objects of metal. Valerian thought it would be amusing to watch him die in the arena at the paws – or hooves – of a real gladiator. The Consul had laughed at the novelty of it all before signing the order to commute.
Aquilius did not believe in training his soldiers, or his gladiators, to die. Here lay a challenge like no other.
Iridescent highlights danced in Aquilius' armor as he followed the Lynx. “I want you moved to my stable today.”
Tail lashing, but otherwise appearing calm, Sa'íd answered him. “Well then, I'll take care of a few loose ends, rent a cart, and move in. Where, exactly, are your quarters?”
Aquilius rumbled, “I'll be accompanying you all day.” They walked for a time. “Sa'íd, if you keep doing that with your tail, it's like to fly off.”
“As you will, Master Aquilius.” Sa'íd replied.
Aquilius made sure to point his nostrils at the tail as he snorted, sending a puff of air to ruffle the fur. “I understand you have things to do before you can move in. I cleared my day, so I will be at your side until you are settled in my stable. You can tell me what's on your mind, or you can lead me there and let it be a surprise.”
Aquilius stopped a second before the Lynx did; the tail had warned him. He would have to teach Sa'íd how to control it, or, failing that, he could cut it off. As the Lynx came to a stop, the Equus asked, “You have something to say, Sa'íd?”
The lynx slowly turned to face Aquilius. Sa'íd touched his bandage before speaking. “I took this wound in a tussle with thieves a few hours ago. If I turn them in, they will be executed.”
Aquilius nodded. But he kept his face, and his tail, carefully passive as the Lynx went on.
“I left them with an herbalist, so I could return later and decide what to do. They seem more desperate and young than ruthless. But I don't know what I can do, other than turn them back out on the streets. If I do that, maybe they are better off being executed.”
“How long is the rent paid up on your room?” Aquilius asked.
Sa'íd answered. “Until the end of my Contract, seven months.”
Aquilius nodded. “Then we don't have to turn them back out on the streets. Tell me everything you have learned of these thieves.” He listened carefully, asking many details, until he felt he knew as much as Sa'íd did.
The Equus spoke once again. “Lead us on to this herbalist. I promise not to turn the foxes in without your blessing. As to what we should do with them, I need to get to know them better.”
“As you say, Master Aquilius.” Sa'id turned into the narrow ways of the Free Quarter.
Aquilius followed, ears perked, tail high, adding extra steps to his gait. The Lynx' tail had returned to its normal, lazy sway.
At Miomira's door, they stopped. Aquilius heard laughter inside as he rumbled, “Wait outside and out of sight, Sa'íd.” He gently tapped the door with his hoof. It opened a moment later.
A graceful, elderly vixen answered the door. She jumped off the floor and yipped when she saw Aquilius a few inches from her face. “Forgive me, Ser.” She lowered her muzzle and tail as she looked up at him, making sure her eye-patch was in place, “This humble herbalist rarely sees an Equus cross her threshold. Enter and be welcome.”
“My thanks, kind Vixen,” his gravelly bass filled the room as he entered, “Leave the door ajar.”
“Great Mother!” exclaimed a juvenile voice.
“Is tha' really the Sepia Warrior?!” another voice, just as excited.
I can almost see that lynx's tail now; he must be having a fit of jealousy.
Aquilius silenced the young tods, “You honor my old nom de guerre, but you may call me Master Aquilius. Now, would you be so kind as to tell me what you are called?”
“I'm Dragoslav, an' 'e's Dugoslav.” It was the taller fox who spoke, Dragoslav.
“We're brothers.” The smaller one, Dugoslav. “Twins, even.”
“I see,” Aquilius replied. “and how is it you come to entertain good Miomira today?”
“Well,” the smaller tod, Dugoslav, “We were goin' abou' our business when we were attacked by ... a vicious ruffian! 'e bea' us up good: broke me leg an' Dragoslav's arm. Then 'e left us for the beggars to pick over a' we passed ou' from our wounds. But, we woken up 'ere instead.”
I hope he can be vicious. If he were a ruffian, you would be dead.
Aquilius' answered. “I'm glad there is kindness to answer such brutality. Will you be returning to your parents or to your Master?”
“Um, well...” Dugoslav was cut off before he could spin his next yarn.
“No Dugo', 't'ain' no ways righ' to be lyin' to Master Aquilius.” Dragoslav continued. “We 'ave no parents and no Master what to apprentice for, Mr. Aquilius. No' since our mothe' died. We be livin' on the streets 'ere in the Free Quarter, makin' do as best we can.”
They talk like street urchins, but so do most foxes in this part of the city. Their mother must have been trying to keep them off the streets and educate them, seeing how few scars they have.
Aquilius spoke, “I am sad to learn of your loss. Good Miomira, a brush, ink, and papyrus.”
“Of course, Mr. Aquilius.” The Vixen took the items off of a shelf. She uncapped the ink pot and set it to one side, the brush beside it – handle over the edge, two sheets of papyrus side by side, corners weighted down by river stones.
Aquilius picked the brush up with his lips and began to write. The symbols were large, clear and crisply painted. On the second papyrus, he wrote four words. He set the brush down, fibers hanging off the table's edge, and asked the foxes more questions while waiting for the ink to set.
A few minutes later, confident the ink was dry enough to touch, he turned to the smaller fox. “Dugoslav, complete these equations.”
Dugoslav ran his whiskers over the symbols and completed every formula.
He solved them ten times faster than most apprentice engineers could. That's intriguing.
Aquilius nodded, “Dragoslav, this other is for you.”
Dragoslav read the four words, then he recited for another 15 minutes. After a few seconds of silence, he spoke, “Please forgive me, Mr. Aquilius. I nae kin remember 'ow the next bi' goes.”
Not many street urchins learn to recite epics. Perhaps this lynx project of mine has better instincts than I gave him credit for.
“That is enough for now.” Aquilius directed his muzzle toward the door, “Come in, Sa'íd.”
The Lynx appeared in the doorway.
The young brothers backed into the farthest corner, ears laid back. Dragoslav stuttered, “B-bu', 'e's ...”
“I know who he is” Aquilius' deep voice calmed the foxes. “After he subdued you, he carried you here.”
The Lynx's ears slowly turned a complete circle.
The foxes did not appear convinced of Sa'íd's good will; then again, neither did Sa'íd.
Time to push things along.
Aquilius broke the uncomfortable silence. “So, Dugo and Drago, how did you come to be street thugs?”
Dragoslav answered, “We're no' stree' thugs. We sleep unde' a roof, wi' our gang. We go' 'ungry afte' our ma died. Tha' was a few months ago. One o' the gangs offered us food an' shelter. A' first, all we 'ad to do was take a bi' o' meat when a vendor wasn't lookin'. Nothin' much, nothin' the vendor couldn' afford to lose. Bu' then we 'ad to take more meat, an' eventually, we 'ad to steal bronze an' silver, else we'd be cast ou' or killed.”
Aquilius nodded. “And sooner or later there is always someone like Sa'íd. Because you wounded him while trying to rob him, he holds the power of life and death over you. As I do. What should we do with that power?” He watched Dugoslav shrink back even further into the corner.
Dragoslav moved between his brother and the Equus, baring his teeth as he answered. “Jus' leave Dugo ou' o' this. 'E didn' do anythin' bu' wha' 'E was forced to. Kill me, make me yer slave, wha'evah ye desire. As long as ye nae harm Dugo'.”
Aquilius nodded. “Accepted.”
“What?” Sa'íd did not seem amused.
Aquilius smiled at the lynx, “I accept his offer.” He turned to the taller fox, “You are mine; I will not harm Dugoslav. You may accompany us and help us move Sa'id's things.”
Sa'íd retorted. “I wanted them to stay alive, not follow us around everywhere we go. They tried to rob me. Besides, they don't look happy about it either.”
Aquilius allowed the silence to hang for a time. Finally, he asked, “Sa'íd, do you trust me?”
Ears twitching, Sa'íd answered. “I gave you my oath.” He forced his tail to stop lashing. “I … I do. I trust you.”
“Thank you, Sa'íd. I value your trust.”
He looked at the taller fox. “Dragoslav, do you trust me?”
Dragoslav just bared his teeth again. “I trust me brother an' no one else. Bu' as long as 'e's safe, ye can do anythin' wi' me.”
Finally, he looked at the smaller fox, slowly re-emerging from the behind his brother. “Dugoslav, what are you going to do now?”
Dugoslav's eyes darted about. “I follow me brother – nae goin' back to the gang withou' 'im.” His ears returned forward as he asked, “Can I touch yer armor?”
Aquilius snorted. “You may touch it while we follow Sa'íd to his residence. There is work to do for our Lynx friend. Sa'íd, help Dugoslav onto my back; I don't want Miomira saying I take bad care of her convalescents.”
“As ye say, Master Aquilius.” Dugoslav looked like he was in heaven.
If only I could solve everyone's problems by giving them a pony ride.
The packing went quickly. Sa'íd slept through it. Dragoslav raised an eyebrow as he secured a bundle of scrolls with cord they'd bought on the way, “Mr. Aquilius, you're lettin' him just sleep?”
“It's what cats do.” Aquilius agreed.
“So...we can sleep too?” Dugoslav asked?
Aquilius snorted. “You may sleep or help your brother as you see fit. Dragoslav may sleep after the sun sets. Sa'íd is a cat, not a fox. If I don't let him nap now, he will be too tired to do what is required of him later.”
The foxes accepted the explanation without further complaint. They worked diligently, leaving the room spotless before the lynx woke up.
Two hours later, Sa'íd's personal items were packed and stowed on Aquilius' back. He saw Sa'íd's ears droop when he nudged the hilt of a massive greatsword.
“Were you planning to grow into a Bear, Sa'íd?” Aquilius asked.
“I was nine!”
“We all have such dreams in our youth.” Aquilius responded. “I have decided that, instead of charging you rent for your new quarters in my gladiator stable, I will let you give my servant, Dragoslav, your room here. You may leave your key on the table for him.”
Aquilius watched him put the key on the table.
He acts like I took away his catnip.
He had Sa'íd chisel Dragoslav and Dugoslav on two of his personal coins, which would get them into the common gallery for Arena matches.
Aquilius spoke to the foxes, “I have decided to have Dragoslav tested for apprenticeship, as a smith. You may be tested as well, if you wish, Dugoslav. I know you are technically a little old to start, but I think you are smart enough to catch up. Uncle Brutus will send someone to test you for apprenticeship in about a week. If you pass the test, then I will turn you over to the guild. Dragoslav will no longer need to serve me. If you fail, I will find something else for him to do. I would prefer that you pass.”
At his direction, the Lynx grudgingly put a dozen bronze, and two silver, coins down next to the keys. “No stealing. This will buy what food you need until you are employed.”
Aquilius left the building, lynx in tow, and began walking to the soldiers' quarter. He still had much work to do this day.