TITUS GERMANICUS

By Ken Cartlidge

I have lived in interesting times. I am Titus Quirinius Germanicus. I am perhaps the most fortunate man on this Earth. I asked for a life of adventure and I got my request.
My life has been an unfolding adventure, a quest to find my own destiny. My request for an interesting life has been granted.
I have been a captive slave of the Germanic Huns.
I have sojourned over the roads of Europa.
I sailed the Great Sea.
I soldiered for the Empire of Rome.
I sought and found truths both earthly and eternal.
I championed justice for the citizens of the Empire.
I sought love and life and adventure and I found them all. I now enjoy the fruits of my labor. I lived through wars yet found peace of mind and soul. My quest for an abundant life has not been easy or peaceful but I would not choose to escape any of my adventures.
I lived through one of the most eventful centuries the world has ever seen. I want to tell you about my experiences.
My story begins on the southern shore of the River Rhine following the murder of Julius Caesar.
I invite you to travel with me on my odyssey. Let me tell you my story.

Peace and Grace,
Titus Quirinius Germanicus

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: May 15, 2024
• ISBN: 9798385021918

Ken Cartlidge

Ken Cartlidge is the author of several books including Shepherd of The Hills (the story of David as a shepherd boy and later king of Israel), The Greatest Life Ever Lived (the life Of Jesus Christ) as well as numerous articles and short stories. Ken has served as a pastor for fifty three years. His ministry includes churches and seminaries in the United States as well as Eastern Europe. In his retirement Ken has enjoyed time with his wife Janet and with their children and grand children. Ken and Janet continue to minister from their home in Colorado. They enjoy travel and writing and each other. Ken and Janet have no spare time. They don’t even want spare time.

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Copyright © 2024 Ken Cartlidge.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a book of historical fiction. The history in this book is accurate while the characters in this book are fictional.

WestBow Press

A Division of Thomas Nelson & Zondervan

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Bloomington, IN 47403

www.westbowpress.com

844-714-3454

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Scripture is taken from King James version of the Bible, public domain.

ISBN: 979-8-3850-2189-5 (sc)

ISBN: 979-8-3850-2190-1 (hc)

ISBN: 979-8-3850-2191-8 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2024905616

WestBow Press rev. date: 03/27/2024

CONTENTS

1 My Saga Begins

2 Life with the Legion

3 Massacre in the Forest

4 Captive in Germania

5 Raiding Britannia

6 Village Life

7 Traveling Britannia

8 Time to Think

9 Hades on Wheels

10 Grandeur that is Rome

11 I Am in the Legion Now

12 Training in Ostia

13 Bound for Palestine

14 Rome is in Flames!

15 Bound for Palestine

16 A Revolt in the Land

17 Passing the Torch

18 Farewell to the Legion

19 Homeward Bound

20 I Fought the Good Fight

21 Peace at Last

About the Author

Blessed are the peacemakers,

For they will be called the sons of God.

Jesus

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1

My Saga Begins

I t has been my good fortune to have lived in interesting times. Life has taken me down many roads and given me vast experiences.

One of my earliest memories is of my mother sitting me on her lap. She cupped my face close to her face, looked me in the eyes and said, with great solemnity, Titus Germanicus, This is an omen. You are destined to be a restless, wandering soul. She was right, I had no idea what she meant but I remember her telling me that I am a restless child. Titus, you are my adventurous child. That same day my father sat me down after our morning meal and told me, Titus Germanicus you are going to have an interesting life.

My parents must have seen something in me that I did not yet see. They were right. My life has been an adventure.

Those words of my parents made a deep and lasting impression on me as a child. I had little idea at the time what their words would mean to me. My parents were right. I have spent my life as an adventurer. I have traveled roads that led me to places I could not have imagined. I have sailed seas to distant shores. I have traveled roads that have taken me to places of peace and to fields of battle. I have relished times of peace and I have experienced terrors in times of war.

I spent my early childhood at a Roman army outpost on the border of Germania just south of the Rhine River. I am the son of a Roman centurion, a citizen of the Empire. As a child I was taken captive by the Huns of Germania.

As a young man I raided with the Huns across the Anglian channel. I learned the language and the ways of the Huns. I pillaged Britannia with the Huns. As a Hun I fought against the legions of my Roman forefathers.

I fled the Huns and enlisted as a legionnaire in the army of Rome. As a young soldier I bloodied my sword for Rome from Britannia to Palestine. As a centurion I protected the rights of the citizens of the empire of Rome.

I grew up as a captive among the Huns of Germania. I pillaged with the Huns then I battled against the Huns. I fought against and then I fought for the armies of Rome. I fought for Rome as a legionnaire then as an officer in the army of the Empire of Rome.

I lived in the villages of barbarians and later I walked the marble halls of the Empire. I ate with barbarians at their firesides and I lived among the wealthy aristocrats of Rome. I fought for debauched people of a decadent empire and I enslaved noble people of rustic villages. I fought in brute battle during times of war and I enjoyed times of peace. I have regretful memories of war and fond memories of peace.

As a soldier I bloodied my sword for Rome first in Britain then in Judaea. I fought against people I did not hate on behalf of people I did not love. I was a sword for hire and I did not ask questions.

As a Tribune in the service of Rome I was called upon to protect the rights of the citizens of my Empire and I aided a corrupt government in violating those same rights.

I have fond memories of the good people I have encountered. These thoughts warm my soul as I recall the many kindnesses I have experienced on my travels. My soul grew within me as I traveled this mystery of a journey called life.

Not one day goes by that my thoughts do not return to the fields of battle. There are few nights when my eyes close in sleep that the sights, the sounds, and the images of war haunt me still. The scars of war have not healed, they are never going to heal. There are troubling memories that will always lurk in the recesses of my mind.

The first casualty of war is innocence. Veterans of every war are irresistibly drawn back to memories of war. War leaves invisible scars on a soldiers’ soul. I have some visible scars and I have some less visible wounds that scar my soul. I will tell you some of these scars as my story progresses.

I have been told that there is a certain sadness to my voice. Perhaps this is so. The memories do not just go away. Memories linger still. The memories of war will never vanish. Warrior’s memories are the emotional weight that many of us carry to our graves.

At the same time there is the better side. There are memories never forgotten of service to my Empire. There is the deep comraderies forged in war and in peace. There is my gratitude for friendships that shaped my life. Here is my story.

I will tell you of the roads I have travelled and the thoughts I have pondered through my journeys. I am grateful for the happy memories still vivid in my mind and I will tell you regretfully of things I would rather forget.

The horrors and violence of war still plague my mind even while I enjoy the fruits of peace and safety in the embrace of my friends and family. I am haunted nightly by the sights I have seen and the terrors I have experienced.

I have seen humanity at its worst and I have enjoyed the simple village life. I have rubbed shoulders with the best of people and I have tasted the pleasures of the city. I have learned from it all.

I am Titus Quintus Germanicus a servant of the Emperor, a soldier of Rome, a Tribune of the people, the child of a murdered centurion.

This is where my story begins, at a Roman outpost in Germania on the River Rhine.

I was taken as captive of the Germanic Huns as a child. I learned the ways of my Hun captives. I encountered peace in Britannia and loved it. I waged war in Anglia and despised it. I served in the legions of Rome and learned war. I lived in the land of Palestine where I grew to love these bewildering people.

I survived the intrigues of Rome.

I am now an old man enjoying these precious years in the arms of my wife at my villa outside Ostia near the Imperial City of Rome.

I have seen things that will forever haunt me. As soldier I have done things that I will forever regret and I will carry to my grave memories which I cherish.

I am Titus Germanicus, a citizen of Rome, a servant of the emperor, a soldier of the Empire of Rome; a Tribune serving my people. I traveled the Empire from Germania to Palestine. I saw the best of the Empire and I have seen the worst.

My story could be told by countless others now dead, some still living. This is my own saga. This is the story of me, a citizen soldier of the Empire of Rome, a traveler of the world. I fought and loved and lived. Mostly I survived to tell you my tale. I offer no apologies- it is true and it is my story.

My life has been a saga, an odyssey, truly an adventure.

Now I will tell you my story. Papa and Mama were right. I have lived in interesting times.

Titus Germanicus

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2

Life with the Legion

E ver since I could walk Papa and me rise at dawn to inspect the Legion’s outpost here on the Rhine. This is our custom ever since I could walk and talk. Papa calls our morning walk the dawn patrol. These walks are a lark for me but papa has a purpose for these walks. Papa usually has a purpose for anything he does. He is teaching me how the camp is organized. Every Roman camp is organized and laid out the same way. We walk the perimeter of the camp then we walk between the barracks to make certain that everything is in order.

We walk between the barracks areas to make sure the sentries are alert and doing their duty. A legionnaire can be executed for failing to stay vigilant and alert during the night watch. On one walk Papa found a sentry asleep on the steps of a barracks. The sentry is terrified and begs for mercy. He could easily go before a military court and be executed for dereliction of duty. Instead Papa has stern words for the sentry, reminds the sentry of his duty and importance of keeping his vigil. Then Papa dismisses the sentry with a stern warning.

Each garrison camp has an identical layout. The headquarters barracks is located in the same place in every camp. The kitchen and bakery are at the same place in each camp. The barracks and stables are all in the same place in every Roman fortress.

We walk between the buildings to make certain that everything is as it should be. Papa is teaching me what it means to be a legionnaire. It makes this child proud to inspect the camp with my Papa.

Early on the morning walks fog swirls between the buildings. It is easy to imagine the monsters that must lay in the fog. My little boy imagination runs wild. I hold Papa’s hand tight. I am safe in the presence of Papa.

These past several days have been busy times for Papa. We are preparing to move the legions to winter camp. These moves are carefully planned down to every detail. The legion likes orderliness.

We boys in the camp draw special attention from these veteran legionnaires. They sometimes teach us soldier skills or mock us with their rough humor.

One of my friends walked too close to some soldiers who were practicing with wooden swords. One rough old soldier gave him a whack across his arm with a wooden practice sword that resulted in a welt that lasted an entire summer.

Crying would reveal weakness; complaining to our fathers or others would reveal unmanliness. So we take the pain and thus prove ourselves to the old veterans. We boys are tested and, if found worthy, taken into the tutelage of the veterans.

A friend of ours named Flavius enjoyed playing the role of a fearless warrior. He carried a wooden practice sword with him day and night. We called him Flavius the Hun slayer or, Flavius the slayer of Leviathan.

He is our hero, the Thor of the Empire. We laugh at his antics. He swings his wooden blade and imagines he is slaying the Huns of Germania. We laugh at his antics and encouraged his wild warrior dances. His parents warned him about venturing