Soldier of Rome: Heir to Rebellion (The Artorian Chronicles) Read Online Free Page A

wears his hair in a long ponytail, his great beard braided on both sides of his chin. He laughs and jokes with my father and I about how effeminate we look with our short hair and clean-shaven faces.” Artorius started laughing aloud.
    “Magnus, you are anything but effeminate!”
    “I know that,” his friend replied, “and so does my grandfather, even if he did say I looked like the quintessential boy lover! The thing is he spent twenty-five years as an auxiliary to earn Roman citizenship, not for himself, but for his sons. Once his tenure was over he returned home to the old country. His sons at least had the opportunity to put their citizenship to use. Strangely enough, only my father chose to do so…ah, here we are.”
    They came upon a large marble building, one with massive pillars and stairs leading to the main doors. A large brass plaque was posted on the right-hand side of the doors. It read:
     
    Lugdunum Gymnasium
    Only the Strong May Enter
     
    “Think we qualify?” Magnus asked, looking at Artorius inquisitively. Artorius raised and flexed his right bicep. Though softer than was usual for him, the bulging muscles still looked impressive.
    “Yeah, I think we’ll be alright,” he joked as they walked inside. Artorius was in awe as he gazed upon the interior of the gymnasium. Never before had he seen such masculine beauty. There were stones of various sizes, along with bars and other equipment for building strength; ropes hung from the ceiling that men could be seen climbing up and down; there was a roped off area in a sand pit where men were boxing and wrestling; steam was coming from the communal sauna; and through the back archway one could see a lengthy pool with men swimming in it.
    “A bout time you two showed up!” a voice yelled at them from over at the strength training floor. They looked over to see Vitruvius, shirtless and covered in sweat. His muscles were pumped up and swollen, ready to burst through the skin. Artorius grinned broadly and hurried down the steps to join his friend and mentor. “By Apollo, but you two have gone soft!”
    “Eh, I was never that hard to begin with,” Magnus lied. Artorius raised an eyebrow at the remark.
    “Hey, your issues with getting ‘hard’ are not my concern,” Vitruvius replied with an elbow to the ribs. “Well come on, I just got warmed up!”
    A passion burned inside each of the men as they sweated their way through exercises meant to add size to their powerful frames. Artorius knew that it had always been there, bei ng that he had built his size and strength in a very crude form of a home-made gym when he was a young lad. Magnus possessed that inborn Scandinavian power and tenacity; his very soul wished for nothing more than to become bigger and stronger. Vitruvius…if ever there was a god incarnate, it was him. Artorius could only match him in size and power because of his extreme work ethics. An unspoken bond was born between the three men; they would meet every day and build their bodies above and beyond what they had ever thought possible. Rank played no role in their relationship of stone and steel. Once they passed through those doors, the only thing that mattered was the formation of brutal strength.
    Through each muscle-building exercise they would push each other. Great stones would they press overhead. Each man tried to outdo the others in numbers of repetitions completed. Another stone would he wrap his arms around and squat down until his thighs were parallel with the ground, all the while heeding the shouts of encouragement from his companions as he fought to do one more repetition. A simple bar on a wooden frame they would use for doing pull ups to widen their backs and increase bicep strength.
     
    Several weeks into their routine, Artorius and Magnus were walking back to their billets, Vitruvius having gone ahead by himself. Once they left the gymnasium the boundaries of rank returned and fraternization was avoided. They soon