Puck of Pook's Hill - BestLightNovel.com
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'I've run nearly all the way,' he gasped, 'and then Puck met me. How do you do, Sir?'
'I am in good health,' Parnesius answered. 'See! I have tried to bend the bow of Ulysses, but--' He held up his thumb.
'I'm sorry. You must have pulled off too soon,' said Dan. 'Puck said you were telling Una a story.'
'Continue, O Parnesius,' said Puck, who had perched himself on a dead branch above them. 'I will be chorus. Has he puzzled you much, Una?'
'Not a bit, except-I didn't know where Ak-Ak something was,' she answered.
'Oh, Aquae Solis. That's Bath, where the buns come from. Let the hero tell his own tale.'
Parnesius pretended to thrust his spear at Puck's legs, but Puck reached down, caught at the horse-tail plume, and pulled off the tall helmet.
'Thanks, jester,' said Parnesius, shaking his curly dark head. 'That is cooler. Now hang it up for me....
'I was telling your sister how I joined the Army,' he said to Dan.
'Did you have to pa.s.s an Exam?' Dan asked, eagerly.
'No. I went to my Father, and said I should like to enter the Dacian Horse (I had seen some at Aquae Solis); but he said I had better begin service in a regular Legion from Rome. Now, like many of our youngsters, I was not too fond of anything Roman. The Roman-born officers and magistrates looked down on us British-born as though we were barbarians. I told my Father so.
'"I know they do," he said; "but remember, after all, we are the people of the Old Stock, and our duty is to the Empire."
'"To which Empire?'" I asked. "We split the Eagle before I was born."
'"What thieves' talk is that?" said my Father. He hated slang.
'"Well, Sir," I said, "we've one Emperor in Rome, and I don't know how many Emperors the outlying Provinces have set up from time to time. Which am I to follow?"
'"Gratian," said he. "At least he's a sportsman."
'"He's all that," I said. "Hasn't he turned himself into a raw-beef-eating Scythian?"
'"Where did you hear of it?" said the Pater.
'"At Aquae Solis," I said. It was perfectly true. This precious Emperor Gratian of ours had a bodyguard of fur-cloaked Scythians, and he was so crazy about them that he dressed like them. In Rome of all places in the world! It was as bad as if my own Father had painted himself blue!
'"No matter for the clothes," said the Pater. "They are only the fringe of the trouble. It began before your time or mine. Rome has forsaken her G.o.ds, and must be punished. The great war with the Painted People broke out in the very year the temples of our G.o.ds were destroyed. We beat the Painted People in the very year our temples were rebuilt. Go back further still."... He went back to the time of Diocletian; and to listen to him you would have thought Eternal Rome herself was on the edge of destruction, just because a few people had become a little large-minded.
'_I_ knew nothing about it. Aglaia never taught us the history of our own country. She was so full of her ancient Greeks.
'"There is no hope for Rome," said the Pater, at last. "She has forsaken her G.o.ds, but if the G.o.ds forgive _us_ here, we may save Britain. To do that, we must keep the Painted People back. Therefore, I tell you, Parnesius, as a Father, that if your heart is set on service, your place is among men on the Wall-and not with women among the cities."'
'What Wall?' asked Dan and Una at once.
'Father meant the one we call Hadrian's Wall. I'll tell you about it later. It was built long ago, across North Britain, to keep out the Painted People-Picts you call them. Father had fought in the great Pict War that lasted more than twenty years, and he knew what fighting meant.
Theodosius, one of our great Generals, had chased the little beasts back far into the North before I was born: down at Vectis, of course, we never troubled our heads about them. But when my Father spoke as he did, I kissed his hand, and waited for orders. We British-born Romans know what is due to our parents.'
'If I kissed my Father's hand, he'd laugh,' said Dan.
'Customs change; but if you do not obey your father, the G.o.ds remember it.
You may be quite sure of _that_.
'After our talk, seeing I was in earnest, the Pater sent me over to Clausentum to learn my foot-drill in a barrack full of foreign Auxiliaries-as unwashed and unshaved a mob of mixed barbarians as ever scrubbed a breast-plate. It was your stick in their stomachs and your s.h.i.+eld in their faces to push them into any sort of formation. When I had learned my work the Instructor gave me a handful-and they were a handful!-of Gauls and Iberians to polish up till they were sent to their stations up-country. I did my best, and one night a villa in the suburbs caught fire, and I had my handful out and at work before any of the other troops. I noticed a quiet-looking man on the lawn, leaning on a stick. He watched us pa.s.sing buckets from the pond, and at last he said to me: "Who are you?"
'"A probationer, waiting for a cohort," I answered. _I_ didn't know who he was from Deucalion!
'"Born in Britain?" he said.
'"Yes, if you were born in Spain," I said, for he neighed his words like an Iberian mule.
'"And what might you call yourself when you are at home?" he said laughing.
'"That depends," I answered; "sometimes one thing and sometimes another.
But now I'm busy."
'He said no more till we had saved the family G.o.ds (they were respectable householders), and then he grunted across the laurels: "Listen, young sometimes-one-thing-and-sometimes-another. In future call yourself Centurion of the Seventh Cohort of the Thirtieth, the Ulpia Victrix. That will help me to remember you. Your Father and a few other people call me Maximus."
'He tossed me the polished stick he was leaning on, and went away. You might have knocked me down with it!'
'Who was he?' said Dan.
'Maximus himself, our great General! _The_ General of Britain who had been Theodosius's right hand in the Pict War! Not only had he given me my Centurion's stick direct, but three steps in a good Legion as well! A new man generally begins in the Tenth Cohort of his Legion, and works up.'
'And were you pleased?' said Una.
'Very. I thought Maximus had chosen me for my good looks and fine style in marching, but, when I went home, the Pater told me he had served under Maximus in the great Pict War, and had asked him to promote me.'
'A child you were!' said Puck, from above.
'I was,' said Parnesius. 'Don't begrudge it me, Faun. Afterwards-the G.o.ds know I put aside the games!' And Puck nodded, brown chin on brown hand, his big eyes still.
'The night before I left we sacrificed to our ancestors-the usual little Home Sacrifice-but I never prayed so earnestly to all the Good Shades, and then I went with my Father by boat to Regnum, and across the chalk eastwards to Anderida yonder.'
'Regnum? Anderida?' The children turned their faces to Puck.
'Regnum's Chichester,' he said, pointing towards Cherry Clack, and-he threw his arm South behind him-'Anderida's Pevensey.'
'Pevensey again!' said Dan. 'Where Weland landed?'
'Weland and a few others,' said Puck. 'Pevensey isn't young-even compared to me!'
'The head-quarters of the Thirtieth lay at Anderida in summer, but my own Cohort, the Seventh, was on the Wall up North. Maximus was inspecting Auxiliaries-the Abulci, I think-at Anderida, and we stayed with him, for he and my Father were very old friends. I was only there ten days when I was ordered to go up with thirty men to my Cohort.' He laughed merrily. 'A man never forgets his first march. I was happier than any Emperor when I led my handful through the North Gate of the Camp, and we saluted the guard and the Altar of Victory there.'
'How? How?' said Dan and Una.
Parnesius smiled, and stood up, flas.h.i.+ng in his armour.
'So!' said he; and he moved slowly through the beautiful movements of the Roman Salute, that ends with a hollow clang of the s.h.i.+eld coming into its place between the shoulders.