Eastern forest near camp — Week 9, morning
The path to the forest was short, but tense.
Sextus walked at the front, tablet in hand and eyes alert. He carried no more gear than the others, no visible mark of authority. Just the invisible weight of a direct order from Scaeva… and five pairs of eyes waiting for him to fail.
He had memorized their names. And within the first steps, he understood why the centurion had chosen them.
Aulus, tall and sluggish, complained quietly from the start.
Drusus, with a mocking look and crooked smile, asked pointless questions just to provoke.
"And if we find wolves? Should we tell them, 'no shouting and no fighting' too?"
Sextus said nothing. Not yet.
The other three—Spurius, Decimus, and Nerva—walked silently. Neither troublemakers nor standouts. They just wanted to return quickly and without punishment.
When they reached the clearing, Sextus gave the order:
"Groups of two. Leave your shields to the side, keep weapons visible. Cut thick branches, no bushes. Nothing that'll snap under weight."
Aulus sat on a rock.
"You can start. I'll keep watch."
"We didn't come to stand guard," Spurius replied.
"Hey, don't talk to him like that," Drusus cut in."He's our superior, right?"
Sextus turned. Finally spoke. His voice was firm, but calm.
"Cut wood or go back to camp and explain to the optio why the cart is empty."
Drusus spat to the side.
"Is that a threat?"
"No," Sextus said."It's your decision."
The group dispersed, reluctantly. Each worked with more or less effort. The sound of branches, axes, and grumbling filled the air for nearly an hour.
Then it happened.
Aulus, distracted, tripped and fell with a branch under his arm. It wasn't serious. But as he fell, his leg got caught between two roots, and his cry echoed through the trees.
The others stopped.
Drusus burst out laughing.
"You idiot… can't even stand straight."
"It hurts!" Aulus shouted."I can't move it!"
Sextus ran over. He didn't question. He didn't shout. He knelt, checked the leg, and with Nerva and Spurius's help, lifted the trunk pinning it. He broke his own gear strap and used it to bind the leg.
"Nerva," he ordered,"cut a straight branch. Spurius, help me lift him. Decimus, take rear support. We'll carry him back."
"What about the firewood?" Drusus asked, still smirking.
Sextus looked at him.
"Either you carry it yourself, or you explain to the centurion why the injured man came back before you."
Drusus swallowed. Said nothing.
When they returned to camp, carrying Aulus between four men, all of them drenched in sweat, the firewood was still tied—on Drusus's back.
Scaeva watched from a distance. He said nothing. But Varro stepped up as Sextus passed.
"One injured. One obeying. Three doing their part.""And you," he added,"leading."
Sextus nodded without a word.He hadn't been given command.He had earned it.