Domina Victrix

Chapter 81: 33 AD, Judea, Antioch, Gaul

Centurion Servius Casca stood up from the watch fire to stretch his legs. A twenty-five-year veteran, he was now the Second Rank in Cohors II, having inherited Verus' collection of numbskulls, yokels, riffraff, and brats. He had been born in Antioch, and had hoped to live his life there. His family was patrician, his great-grandfather was a longtime friend of Julius Caesar until he turned against him on the Ides of March. That Servius Casca had been the first to strike a blow at Caesar and later killed himself after the defeat at Philippi. His youngest son's family remained in Syria, living down the disgrace.

But it was not to be. The next Servius Casca threw in his lot with Mark Antony, and survived that fiasco only by jumping to Octavian's side before Actium. His son served in Twelve, but Casca himself, wanting out of his father's shadow, joined the Italian Band and worked his way up. Casca knew the Antonys, had respected the late Gaius more than Marcus, wished Lucius a bitter end, and thought highly of Bolt. As young as he was, he knew what he was doing and had proved it again by his handling of the executions on Friday.

It was the rest of his current situation that pissed Casca off. He had yet to hear about an evocatio, and wondered why Bolt had not brought it up. He hated duty in Jerusalem, but it was bearable two weeks out of the year. Caesarea was not a bad place to live. The people in this province were strange, but that was their problem, not his. The only drawback was Julius Verus. Casca was certain that, if Bolt had made offers to anyone, it was Verus and Cornelius, and he had had enough of both men to last a lifetime.

He had joined about three years before Cornelius, Verus, Longinus, and a few others, and was assigned to a squad with them. Being in the same confines gave someone unique insights into a man's character. Longinus was decent enough, a quiet, studious man who kept to himself. Cornelius was a moody, defiant loner who thought his shit did not stink because of his looks, his skill with weapons, his family connection to the Scipios, on and on. Julius, his sidekick, was loud, overbearing, a barracks-room gossip and meddler. He had opinions about everything and no secret, no matter how personal or embarrassing, was safe with or around him.

Casca and his wife had had an on-off relationship for years. That was no secret. The vici in Antioch and Caesarea knew it. They may also have known that Media drank, as did many women. What they did not know, and he wished they never would, was that she took her drunken rages out on him and had for years. A terror on the parade ground, Casca was often attacked at home. He could fight back, and likely kill her, but had no desire for a murder rap, so held her off as best he could. In the last few months, her moods were more volatile. He was aware she had stopped cycling, and that some women had a rough time of it, but Media's mood swings would not let up.

In the weeks before they left for Jerusalem, Media caught him speaking to Decia Crispina at the taberna. He had gone to Decia to get some insight about how the change might be affecting Media. Decia was married to Julius Verus and it became apparent as he and Decia talked that she knew a lot about his home life. Her only source would have been Julius, a known snoop, whose nose was in everyone else's business. Back at home, Media attacked him with a knife over having spoken to Decia. This was a new low, even for her. He packed up himself and their two teenaged children, and left, intending to seek a divorce. Needing shelter, he rented an apartment in one of Julius' buildings.

But his world continued to unravel. His daughter, all of sixteen, ran to her boyfriend, one of his immuni, who openly dared him to come get her back. His son disappeared and he suspected that, like many young boys in a port city, he had gone to sea. Casca's world was in shambles. He knew that he was disliked by his men, most centurions were. But years of glares, stares, and side-eye now made sense. His private life had been up and down the Via Principalis for years, and he suspected Verus of putting it there. Part of a centurion's authority was based on his reputation, and Casca's was shot, at this point. No wonder Bolt had not offered the evocatio. Casca wanted to confront and beat the living shit out of Julius Verus, but had no desire for a dishonorable discharge.