When the army arrived, the leaders wrote the names of every tenth soldier upon strips of papyrus and placed them in the caps of the centurions. The six hundred ultimately chosen to die stepped forward without protest. They laid down their weapons and offered their necks to the swords of the Roman soldiers. Mauritius and the others, who were spared, praised God and rejoiced with their comrades in their moment of death.
Mauritius pulled away from his soldiers and watched with great sadness as the bodies of his martyred comrades were dumped in the Rhone River, turning its waters red. Then he returned to the survivors and rejoiced with them. When they were issued another order to participate in the sacrifices, they refused, persisting in proclaiming their loyalty to Christ.
The Roman leaders conferred and ordered a second decimation. This time Mauritius flinched when he saw that Baraka was among the doomed men. What shall I tell my sister? he wondered, choking up as he imagined the scene.
With great courage, Baraka laid down his weapons and motioned to Mauritius. He slid a lapis ring emblazoned with a gold cross off his finger and pressed it into Mauritius’ palm, closing his friend’s fingers over it. “Please give this ring to your sister,” his voice trembled. “Tell her when our son becomes a man to please give the ring to him to wear in memory of his father, who loved him very much.”
Mauritius nodded, too emotional to speak, and curled his fingers around the ring in the palm of his hand.
Mauritius’ voice broke as he swore to Baraka, “My brother, I vow to you before God that I will raise your son as if he were my own . . . if God allows me to survive.”
“Please do not be sad for me. I consider martyrdom a great honor,” Baraka assured him, smiling. He clutched his chest. “Only for those I leave behind is my heart heavy.”
“We shall all be together again one day in heaven,” Mauritius assured him. He then embraced the man whom he had loved since they were boys, kissing him on both cheeks. “God be with you, my friend.”
“And also with you,” Baraka replied, and then he stooped, lowering his head upon the stone.
As the soldier lifted his sword, Baraka sang praises to God until his blood poured over the rock, splattering upon the sandals of Mauritius, who turned away in sorrow.
Mauritius and the other soldiers remained strong, but upon hearing their songs and praises, Maximian recoiled with such fury that he demanded yet another decimation.
Afterwards, Mauritius conferred with his fellow officers, Candidus and Exupernis. Three decimations. It was time to stop the killings. They grieved for their fallen comrades, especially for their families, who were left behind.
“It is time to stop the butchery. Our surviving men are eager to return home to their families,” Mauritius pointed out.
With prayerful consideration, the officers composed a royal remonstrance, dictating it to an aide, who wrote the words on a papyrus and addressed it to the emperor. It read:
Emperor, we are your soldiers but also the soldiers of the true God. We owe you military service and obedience, but we cannot renounce Him who is our Creator and Master, and also yours even though you reject Him. In all things which are not against His law, we most willingly obey you, as we have done hitherto. We readily oppose your enemies whoever they are, but we cannot stain our hands with the blood of innocent people (Christians). We have taken an oath to God before we took one to you, you cannot place any confidence in our second oath if we violate the other (the first). You commanded us to execute Christians, behold we are such. We confess God the Father the creator of all things and His Son Jesus Christ, God. We have seen our comrades slain with the sword, we do not weep for them but rather rejoice at their honour. Neither this, nor any other provocation have tempted us to revolt. Behold, we have arms in our hands, but we do not resist, because we would rather die innocent than live by any sin.
They sent the note to Maximian with great hopes that it would soften the emperor’s heart.
Captain Mauritius stood in wait with his head high, surrounded by his fallen comrades. With his nostrils, he inhaled the unmistakable stench of death. He watched as the Roman soldiers disposed of the bodies. One of the Roman generals, who could no longer bear the sight of the Rhone River running with blood throughout the land, had ordered a great pit be dug for the bodies.
The sun blazed hot above the field where so many had fallen—bravely and valiantly, just as they had lived their lives. Sweat trickled down the cheek of Mauritius, but his hands were occupied, furiously swatting flies, drawn by the bodies not yet disposed of in the pit.
The Roman soldiers shuddered at the sickening sight of the carnage. But not Mauritius and his Theban Legion, for they knew that Christ’s resurrection had swallowed up death, and the souls of his friends did not occupy these decaying, earthbound shells. Although many wept for their colleagues, praises could be heard above the wailing.
When Emperor Maximian read the remonstrance, he raged uncontrollably and sent a messenger to Diocletian of the plan he had formulated in his anger.
Diocletian disputed it. “But these men are Roman soldiers. They defeated the Gauls, almost single-handedly. Maximian is surely mad if he wants to slaughter the entire Theban Legion.” Diocletian waved his hand, “Three decimations is sufficient punishment.”
Having his own agenda, Galerius dared to warn the emperor, “If we intervene in Maximian’s orders, then the gods will severely punish us. I tremble at what could happen to us. Even after this great victory, we are likely to never see our homeland again.”
His paranoia far outweighing his strength of character, Diocletian signaled the messenger. “Give me those orders.” With a shaking hand, the emperor sealed the death warrant with his ring.
In the distance Mauritius saw the messenger returning. The scroll he carried in his pouch would surely contain their fate. Riding beside him was General Galerius himself.
Mauritius prayed that God would spare his men and him, grieving that he might have to leave his precious Valeria behind, praying that if it were true, she would take the news without too much pain. He was not leaving behind a child, a legacy, like many of his friends, but he was confident that his love for Valeria would live forever in her heart, until she took her last breath.
When the soldiers arrived, the reply on the papyrus was unrolled and read to the Theban Legion. To their surprise, their remonstrance had an opposite effect on the evil Maximian.
As the Roman soldier delivered the orders that every member of the Theban Legion would be slaughtered, Mauritius accepted his fate with sadness to leave this life, but with joy over entering into the next for an eternity. The troops who had come to execute the order then drew their swords. To their surprise there was no fight or refusal to die. The Thebans laid down their weapons and offered their necks to the soldiers.
The officers were the last to die. While he waited, Mauritius caught the eye of one of the soldiers, a Christian he knew and who had participated in the sacrifices by making the sign of the cross. He motioned for him to come near. When the young man knelt down beside him, there was an exchange and a Roman officer feared he had slipped the captain a weapon, but when the young man assured his superior he was only praying with Mauritius, he let them be.
Raising his voice in worship, Mauritius began to sing and was quickly joined by the remainder of his legion. Though he imagined the vain Diocletian and Maximian would think they mocked him as they sang while being slaughtered, he continued to worship as, one by one, voices around him were silenced. When at last he was the only man still standing, he committed himself into the hands of his Lord and prepared