In the years 73-71 BC, a Thracian gladiator orchestrated a revolt that galvanised thousands of slaves against the oppressive structures of the Roman Empire. Fast forward to August 21st, 66 BC, where over 50 insurgent factions coalesced, each possessing forces ranging from 5,000 to 30,000. Alarmed by the potential for chaos reminiscent of the Spartacus Rebellion, the Roman state mobilized every capable fighter at its disposal, amassing an imposing force of 120,000 troops, with 80,000 of those actively engaged in the field. 

As the insurgents spread fear across the cities of Rome, Capua, Ostia, Ravenna, and Verona, I found myself, alongside an additional 20,000 men, dispatched to training camps to prepare for the coming conflict. With that context established, allow me to recount my story—the odyssey of Marcus Benedictus.

April 5th 60 BC Marcus Benedictus 12 Years Old 

Our journey commenced on five transport wagons, each bearing 20 individuals. In one particular wagon, a boy with straight blonde hair sat, fear etched into his visage but tempered by a glimmer of determination in his eyes as he grasped a gladius. Its sheath, fashioned from copper and leather to match the sword's hilt, accompanied a blade of inexpensive iron. Next to him lay a worn ensemble of leather armor.

An armored rider, poised atop a steed, heralded their arrival at **Castra Martis**. Lost in contemplation while gazing at the horizon, the boy was startled to recognize how close they had come to their destination. Beside him sat a girl—a curious presence, given that warriors at Castra Martis often sought to exploit those they perceived as vulnerable. Yet, she was clad in full legionary armor, a polished gladius sheathed at her side, seemingly asleep, a trickle of drool escaping her lips.