The Last Centurion

Cato Avilius

The Centurion Primus never allowed his steady, calculating gaze to falter, and remained every inch the Roman soldier as Rory stammeringly explained his lie. Yes, the box was very valuable. No, he didn't know what it was for or how long he would be guarding it. Yes, Jupiter himself had appeared to him, in the form of- the form of- the form of an eagle that turned into a man. With each unfolding portion of his tale, the eyes of the tall soldier from yesterday grew wider and wider, while the eyes of the short legionnaire narrowed suspiciously. But the Centurion's eyes were fixed on scrutinizing Rory.

"And you have been standing guard here for how long?" the Centurion Primus demanded again.

"About twenty years, I think," Rory said wearily.

"And in all that time, you have neither slept not eaten?"

"No," Rory said. "It was Jupiter's blessing."

The Centurion Primus finally showed some emotion, a look of awe spreading across his face as he bowed. "All of the Empire shall be told of your story. The name Roranicus has taken it's place among the heroes of the ages!" he proclaimed grandly. "You must have been a truly brave Centurion to be distinguished thusly by Jupiter Maximus himself."

Rory gave a sort of half-nod, tilting his head in modest agreement.

"We will leave you to your duty unhindered. We mustn't interfere in the will of the gods." He seemed to be talking mostly to himself now.

"You don't have to go to any lengths to avoid me," Rory interjected. "Really, if you want to look around down here, or up there, or wherever, it's fine."

"Yes, yes. My cohort won't be here long. Only a year or two, before we go home to Rome. Perhaps you will make the journey with us," he suggested. "The Emperor would be pleased to meet you. Or would that break your oath to the gods?"

Go to Rome? Rory thought. Well, it certainly sounds better than standing under Stonehenge for eternity. "No, that would be fine," he said aloud.

"It was only a suggestion. We have the time to think on it. Good bye, Centurion."

"Good bye," Rory said, and the Centurion Primus and his two guards turned and ascended the stairs out of sight.

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Late in the day before sunset, Rory was sitting in front of the Pandorica when he again heard the sound of descending footsteps. He had just risen and drawn his sword when the same short, blond legionnaire from the earlier visits appeared at the bottom of the entry stairs. He seemed taller without the imposing figure of his Centurion or his friend, actually; if he would just tell Rory his name, he could stop thinking of him as 'the short one'.

"Ave," he said, saluting briefly.

Rory nodded in response. "Hello."

"You remember me from earlier today?" the legionnaire asked. His tone sounded strained; he wasn't sure what to say.

"Yeah, of course. Sorry, I - I didn't catch your name," Rory said.

"I'm Avilius," he said. "Cato Avilius." He looked hesitantly around the chamber, and then walked over to the wall, where a sheet of metal from a rusting Cyberman, torn and twisted into odd designs, hung at an odd angle from a crevice. He studied it with his hands behind his back as if to keep them from reaching out and grabbing it. "I couldn't help but notice this earlier. What is it?"

"Well, it's - I'm not really sure, to be honest. I'm not much of an artist," Rory said self consciously. "It was just something to do. And the robots on the floor were starting to freak me out."