Plinus

"Hey are you awaken?" The voice of a stranger sounded in a strange language. It was Latin.

"Let him be, I doubt the barbarian is able to understand us, I wonder if he can even speak his own language."

Victor hesitantly opened my eyes, the sun was shining down on him, making it hard to see.

"They are not all like this, they have a couture and history on their own. A friend of mine comes from around here, he told me they have some damn fine beer."

He could hear a scoff but nothing further.

When his head cleared he was able to make out two figures a few meters away from him. Clad in shining layered armour with red clothes underneath they both carried a gladius with them. The rest of their gear was probably back in their camp.

Vincent was no history professor, but that was not needed to recognise one of the most famous ancient military units.

But what the hell was the Romen legion doing here, so far inland? They had a peace treaty, well more of a temporary truce.

"I can speak." Vincent tried his best to mimic their accent with questionable results.

The faces of the two soldiers morphed in surprise.

"You Latin is not half bad, what are you doing alone in the woods?"

The older of the two soldiers asked with a slightly rasper voice. He was the one who found the boy.

His dark eyes curiously rested on Vincent.

The other man, his comrade, stood a bit father away. His brows were furrowed jet his scarred mouth did not move a muscle.

"My village was destroyed by…" He searched for the right words. "A terrible disaster."

The old man nodded, his weathered mouth was raised into a smile. Wrinkles formed on his sun tanned skin.

"Are you knowledgable of the area? We could use a guide."

This was his chance, his chance to get out of this place and find the only men that could help him.

"No." Vincent stood up on shaky legs, resolution burning in his blue eyes. "But I am willing to trade this," He reached for the heavy book tugged under his clothes and held it towards the roman solider.

"If you bring me back, it will be yours along with my work, my knowledge of the native language and culture, and my eternal thank." He made a small bow, barely suppressing the fear. "My only living relative is a citizen of the empire."

A heartfelt laughter escaped the veterans's mouth as he reached for the book. "You are one interesting fellow."

He opened the pages with raised eyebrows, showing it to the other solider.

"With all due respect Plinus, the grimuar was already used, and is not that valuable. Give the child some water and food and leave him here. We have no use for his work."

The veteran ignored his comrade and turned towards Vincent. "Can you read this child?"

Vincent nodded."Yes".

Plinus threw his hands in the air.

"Can you read it, Marcius? Answer me, can you?"

Marcius shook his head, annoyed. "We know not if he is lying."

Plinus seemed to have waited for this, "We can only bring him to the centurio then."

Marcius wanted to retort, but he found not the right words. "He is your problem then." He left without looking back.

Vincent made a small fist. 'That worked better than expected.'

Plinus rested his hand on Vincent's small shoulder. It felt hard and steady like iron.

"I would like to tell you that he is only a little grumpy, but I really dislike the guy. He is always like this."

He shook his head in resignation.

"You should have seen him when they appointed a northern as our new centurio."