His job was to hold that flank.
These thoughts whirred in the mind of a man gone mad. Mad with failure, mad with death, mad with pain. There was noise around him. Noise he couldn't quite make out. He'd failed, and that deafened him to the world. Darkness receded on his mind, and the pain was numbing. His body, drenched in blood, had only barely been recovered.
He had failed, and could feel the cold numbness in his body...
"I can't fucking fix death."
The cold tones of Pompeius Agrippa. A man who could see death as clearly as day. He as a 'doctor', but he never bothered to fix that which was irrevocably broken. More expert butcher than doctor, more cruel than helpful. Nobody could fault his skill-- but more than enough had faulted his morals.
"Ennius is dying, Aurelius." the man concluded, a simple splaying of the hands in futility accenting his point. The Primus Pilus stared at the medical man with a coldness of his own, and Agrippa could feel the weight behind those eyes. Eyes that had seen the depths of hell only to find the worst of his trials laying here now. Agrippa had seen these eyes many times on the dying-- and he could feel Aurelius' dying as well, although not in the usual variation.
"...You will do what you can." the man's voice came out quietly. "...That will be a command, doctor. Keep Ennius alive." his voice was downtrodden, but still carreid the same battle-hardened weight it alays had. Agrippa sighed, shaking his head. His hands found themselves folding across his chest and he stared at the ground pointedly, rather than at Aurelius.
"I will do what I can." He repeated dryly. With that, the man turned and walked into the Legate's tent- if that's what the ramshackle shelter set up could be called- Aurelius following closely, still. Aurelius gaze hardened as he saw the bloody...mass...that was Ennius.
Agrippa chuckled grimly as he set about his work. He was a skilled butcher indeed, and mending the flesh is what he did best.
"I can't fucking fix death." he repeated, before the 'tent' receded into silence as the doctor set about his work.
Hirtius seems off
Mucius thought to himself- and the Centurion most certainly seemed...off. The usual boisterous man was reduced to a stoic lump of seething rage. Mucius didn't think much of it, however; the man hated defeat, and Ennius' failure had lead to the worst defeat in the history of the legion- and, Ennius would guess, Rome as well.
Mucius himself wasn't feeling all too great, but he was but a youth-- and the youth bounced back from such things. He aspired to be great. Great like Hirtius, or Aurelius, or Ennius... the lad just couldn't seem to hold the same rage that his brethren felt.
The only rage Mucius bore was that for the Carthaginians, not his commander. Ennius had thrown himself into battle, and in Mucius eyes that redeemed his commander's failures.
"Mars wouldn't have let him live if he deserved to die..." the Equestrian whispered, the only hopeful soul amongst the legionnaires.
Hirtius felt the more anger than he had in his entire life.
Ennius.
The name brought only anger to his gaze, made his core burn, made his hands shake. His honor was shot, his glory nulled. Battles have been won and lost-- but never has Hirtius Pius suffered shame of this volume. Only Ennius Livanius had caused him this.
Hirtius found himself rising up, vision filling with blood. Those around him seemed surprised he'd decided to actually move- and move he did; towards the medical tent, where he had seen Ennius corpse dragged into. Corpse, yes...corpse. The man wouldn't be alive much longer if Hirtius could help it.
"The Celeris Acuta has fallen into incompetent hands!" the Centurion cried as he rushed into the tent, pushing a surprised Aurelius to the side as he drew a heavy dagger from his hip and raised it into the air. Aurelius fell back, the force of Hirtius anger and passion throwing him to the ground.
Ennius was right there, and he seemed like death already.
Hirtius lifted the dagger high and stepped forward--
blood spilled from his neck. Down the front of his armor, down against his chest, down..down..down to the earth beneath his feet. He sputtered, the rage burning inside him had vanished as if doused with ice water. Blood bubbled from his lips, and his turned his head to the side.
I must look a fool He thought to himself as his fading vision encompassed that of Pompeius Agrippa wiping the blood from one of his butchery tools, and Hirtius felt the world fade from his limps as the 'doctor' unceremoniously pushed him backwards, away from Ennius...
Hirtius hit the ground with a 'thud'.
The man had seen insubordination before, but this...this...blatant attempt at murder was base. Vile. Unworthy of a man of Rome such as Hirtius. Aurelius watched, dumbstruck, as the doctor calmly worked his trade; moving like liquid as he twisted from being hunched over Ennius to slashing his knife across Hirtius throat, cleaning the blade and pushing Hirtius away, and returning to work as if it were the simplest of actions.
Aurelius rose up slowly, then. He felt as if he'd failed in his own right. He'd only watched as Hirtius tried to kill his Legate-- his friend. He moved forward, then, and ripped the dagger from Hirtius vice-like grip, before turning the blade against its former owner's neck and silently severing the man's head from his shoulders.
Aurelius walked towards the entrance to the 'tent'
And threw Hirtius' head back out into the open.
"Doctor, I will get Ennius back to Rome or I'm no soldier."
Ennius Livanius lay comatose; he does not respond to the world around him, yet he remains alive.
Aurelius assumes command of the Legio XI Celeris Acuta in the comatose legate's stead and organizes them. He brings them home, and makes sure no more attempts are made on Ennius life.
As for Mucius-- he's officially just been promoted. A rather young lad for the position of Centurion, but it would seem that Hirtius spoke well of him...well, before his attempt at murder that is. Mucius is very excited for the position, and...awaits his on cohort to command.
Pompeius Agrippa, the 'butcher' of medical practioning, has managed to stave death off of Ennius...for now, and actively works to keep the man alive-- but, as always, makes it known that he 'can't fucking fix death'.
The Celeris Acuta, as much of a skirmishing force as it was before, is now but a rudimentary Guerilla unit. Avoiding Hannibal's patrols, initially, was a clean task under Aurelius command, and the long march home was one full of sorrow and shame as they left the rage and anger behind them. No longer was there anger and violent thoughts- no! Now the men wept and swore vengeance.
Upon returning to Rome, Aurelius will stand in place of Ennius as legate of the Celeris Acuta.
Aurelius looks around the 200 men uneasily. Such...political situations were not what the man was trained for. He was a soldier, as was Ennius. The only natural politician amongst them was Hirtius and his equestrians, and well...
Aurelius cleared his throat as he stepped forward to speak.
"Brothers of Rome, I stand in place for Legate Ennius Livanius. I speak with his voice in these matters." He said, pausing here as he collected himself.
"Forgive me, for I am not one for much talk. I am but a soldier standing amongst great men. I cannot offer any great insight to the issue of Hannibal, but I did serve with Argentus against Hannibal on the Rhone and I can with sound mind say he is a competent and tactful commander, and I second his notion on expanding Roman citizenship. Our allies can be tied in and made whole. Our numbers bolstered and strengthened, and it is numbers we need to combat our enemies." He was out of his league with this sort of political conversing, which was apparent, but he was being honest and fore-front with his opinion.
"The dilution of our blood, as it has been put, is inconsequential if our blood lay spilt upon the earth."
"On the front of Prodicator..." He trailed off, waving a hand dismissively. "Procedure is in place for both times of war and times of peace. Electing a Consul remains dominant in this sense."
"The Bastard speaks plainly and openly, and I for one can appreciate the honesty. Men are my primary concern as well. I do not agree with waiving all property limitations entirely, but lowering them is certainly where I place my voice. We need men to hold swords, men to bear shields. Men to fight a war." This seems to be where Aurelius pauses, and steps back.
He was not a spokesperson, but a soldier-- and he tried to get his voice out and opinions out simply.
