Marcus continued to grapple with the moral dilemma he faced on the way to his apartment. Thankfully the walk was a substantial distance, allowing him time to mull it over.
In Duros all ranks, with the exception of Captains and Commanders were required to live in the barracks. If they were able to find a patron who successfully arranged a marriage for them, they were allowed to live in small apartments in the administrative side of the city.
The Battalion barracks, the weapons manufacturing facilities, the war college, and the meeting hall dominated the military half of the city. The other half contained the palace, the market, apartments for married and retired men, and the innumerable administrative and support buildings staffed by retirees.
Also on the administrative side was the forum and baths, where the unmarried women spent all of their time.
In Durosian society, women were taken from their homes much later than the boys. While boys entered the war college the day after their eighth birthday, girls were only brought to the forum when they turned 18.
It was expected that at home they would be taught how to cook, clean, and raise children. When they were taken to the forum they were instructed in more nuanced skills, like how to hold in depth conversations with men on a variety of topics, most often relating to warfare. Subjects like military history, advanced social etiquette, music, and foreign languages were stressed heavily.
More intriguing to Durosian men were the woman's baths. Coinciding with their education at the forum, young women received a different sort of education at the attached bathhouses
It was in the bathhouses that they learned the skills which most of the men were concerned with: How to care for, and pleasure men. Not having any men to practice on, it was rumored that the matriarchs of the bathhouses encouraged the women to practice on each other.
The thought of hundreds of beautiful women sensually exploring each others bodies in the steamy rooms of the baths made Marcus's cock jerk beneath his uniform. He felt slightly guilty about his lewd thoughts, but reasoned that the girls were probably having a good time. The possibility for mistreatment would come later.
As Marcus began the walk back to his fairly large apartment in the administrative district he thought about what he would do about his situation.
Typically, when a man wanted a marriage, his patron would tour the forum where the unmarried women lived. Finding several that his charge might like, he interviewed them and took their likenesses back to be reviewed by the man seeking a marriage, offering his opinion where appropriate.
Most times, a man would choose quickly, as the thrill of the idea of having a woman of his own was heady.
Some men however, were overly picky, and refused many women before finally deciding on one. The process could take years if the man was too choosey, meanwhile his patron could resign, not willing to participate in a long drawn out search for the perfect bride. In this case the man would have to seek out a new patron, but often word spread quickly about the man's tendency to be picky, in which case he would have trouble securing a new patron, which could mean no wife at all.
If a man did not marry he was viewed critically by his fellows, but his condition was not as bad as a woman who did not marry.
Women who were not chosen through patrons for marriage were destined to stay in the baths and forum permanently. They would become the matriarchs, who looked out for the young women who came under their care. They would never have a family of their own, or a husband, and as such would never be allowed to participate in public life.
As Marcus passed the market he began thinking less with emotion, and more with reason. He watched the young children with their fathers and mothers running about the stalls, looking for ingredients for meals, or hunting through the stalls for toys.
It couldn't be that bad, could it? He might not like the system which gave so little power of self determination to women, and so much to men, but that didn't mean he couldn't make the best of the situation. He could live with a woman who didn't love him. Perhaps even one that hated him.
He reasoned with himself that if his new wife did not wish to be acquainted with him personally, or intimately, he would not press the issue. He could let her decide the scope of the relationship. In this way he would attempt to make up for her previous lack of input.
As he passed by the last stall in the market he was stopped short when he remembered that he would need to purchase his wife her insignia.
When a woman was married she was obliged to wear the rank and battle honors of her husband on ornate rings. As Marcus was a commander, his wife was entitled to wear three gold rings on her right hand. A captain's wife would wear two, and a lieutenant's would wear a single golden ring, reflecting the insignia on their husband's right shoulders.
For the lower ranks the insignia was slightly different. The wife of an un-promoted legionnaire would wear a single silver ring, a corporal's would wear two, and a sergeant's would wear three. In this way the standard ranks of The Legion wore silver insignia, while the officers wore gold.
Battle honors were worn much in the same way by both husbands and wives. While the husbands wore their honors on silver and gold shoulder cords on their left shoulder, their wives wore the same amount, but in silver and gold rings on their hand instead.
He stopped, and asked the vendor for a commander's rings, and three gold battle honors rings.
His most recent kills from the South African Campaign had been reported, and he now wore three gold cords around his shoulder. His kill count had been updated 150, a number that was verging on impressive by Durosian standards. As he paid for the bracelets he was reminded of how heavy his purse was.
The town they had destroyed had been quite rich, and the contract had stipulated that looting was tolerable. While Marcus and his captains felt that such behavior by senior officers was inappropriate, their men felt that they were entitled to a share regardless. Nearly every man gave a small fraction of their loot to Marcus and their captains. Marcus was always touched by the gesture.
When looting was allowed, a great deal of wealth could be acquired even by a low ranking Legionnaire. To share even a little of their prize reminded Marcus of their fondness for their officers.
As he reached his apartment building, his nerves began to fray. The massive whitewashed building was dazzling in the late evening sunlight. A large open archway, ten feet deep, served as the entrance to the building.
The courtyard inside was enormous, nearly a thousand meters square, housing a large garden with walkways snaking through beds of flowers and plants. A large fountain stood at the center of the courtyard and misted most of the area in a cool breeze.
The courtyard had no roof, and was left open to the sunlight. Various patios and sitting areas made excellent places for the occupants to congregate and socialize. Personally, Marcus's favorite spot was a lounging chair hidden by large beds of sunflowers, a private area seldom visited by other residents.
In all, 48 men and their families lived in his building: The 16 commanders of The Legion, as well as all of the retired Commanders. One of the many perks of being a Commander was the security of position, as well as residence.
Commanders were the highest ranking officers in The Legion. As such they were not forced into mandatory retirement at the age of 40 like any other rank would be. Additionally, a commander would not not asked to leave his family residence upon retirement like a lieutenant or a captain would be. Once promoted to commander, a man could live in his provided quarters until he died, even through retirement.
