Legionnaire

Maximus woke on the last day he would live on the streets on a dirty side street, the cobbles digging into his back as they came up and a steady, dirty stream of city water running down the side of the wall he slept against.

He cringed away from the disgusting wall, but he was used to this by now. For five years he had lived on the streets ever since his apprenticeship to a cobbler failed when the cobbler realized Maximus was an orphan instead of a rich, aristocratic boy from a very wealthy family.

Maximus was fourteen, fifteen in an hour, actually.

Fifteen...

He could finally see if he could get himself a spot in the Roman legions.

Such had been his dream since he was ten. He'd watched the cohorts pass by from his window in his room of the cobbler's building, eyes wide with fascination and wonder and hope. Even as a teenager who had seen the brutality the legionnaires could exercise against the people, he still fantasized about joining them one day.

Today just might be that day.

...

Maximus stood shoulder to shoulder with many other young men who had also been admitted into the legions. Though his expression revealed nothing, he inwardly bubbling with happiness. He would be a reason Rome was great.

The general of Maximus's cohort had taken a special interest in Maximus. He showed signs of great courage and bravery, and he was built for battle.

The general wondered to himself if he might be looking at one day's greatest general of Rome.

He did not know how right he was.