“I’ll have to,” Brutus replied, the words grudgingly wrung from him. His frowning expression eased as he talked. “With the ones from other cities, there could be as many as three thousand there. Some of them will contract with Primigenia. The gods know I need to raise the numbers, and quickly. Those barracks that Crassus bought are practically empty.”

“How many do you have already?” Tubruk asked.

“With the seven that came in yesterday, nearly ninety. You should see them, Tubruk.” The younger man looked into the distance as he saw their faces again in his mind. “I think every man who survived the battle against Sulla rejoined. Some had gone to other trades in the city, and they just threw down their tools and walked away when they heard Primigenia was being re-formed. Others we found guarding houses and temples, and they came without any argument. All for the memory of Marius.”

He paused for a moment and his voice sharpened. “My mother had a guard who was an optio in Primigenia. He asked her if he could rejoin and she let him go. He’ll help Renius to train the new ones as we get them.”

Tubruk turned to Renius. “You’ll be going with him?” he said.

Renius laid his axe down. “I’ve no future as a woodcutter, lad. I’ll do my part.”

Tubruk nodded. “Try not to kill anyone. You’ll have a hard enough job getting them in as it is. The gods know Primigenia isn’t one they dream of joining anymore.”

“We have a history,” Brutus replied. “The new legions they’re raising won’t be able to match that.”

Tubruk looked sharply at him. “A shameful history, some think. Don’t glare at me, that’s what they’ll say. They will have marked you as the legion that lost the city. You’ll have a hard time of it.” He looked around at the piles of wood and the full cart and nodded to himself.

“That’s enough for today. The rest will keep. There’s a hot cup of wine waiting for us back at the estate.”

“Just one more then,” Renius said, turning to the boy at his side without waiting for a response.

“I think my swing’s a little smoother than when I started, don’t you, boy?”

The slave rubbed his hand quickly under his nose, leaving a silvery smear along his cheek. He nodded, suddenly nervous. Renius smiled at him.

“One arm isn’t as steady as two with an axe, mind. Bring up that branch and hold her still while I cut her.”

The boy dragged a piece of oak to Renius’s feet and began to stand away.

“No. Hold her steady. One hand on either side,” Renius said, his voice hardening.