"The Dominus and I spent the early hours of the morning drafting the doctrine for this new force," Valerius barked.
Wulfric, the Germanic squad leader, leaned forward.
"First," Valerius listed, ticking the points off on his fingers. "There will be no part-time thugs or hired market muscle. The men chosen for this division will serve as full-time sentinels. Each guard will receive a fixed, exorbitant salary of fifty silver denarii a month, with guaranteed bonuses for repelling threats."
A murmur of shock rippled through the freedmen at the table.
Fifty denarii was a small fortune for a common soldier.
Valerius continued. "The Custodes will be drilled in tactical perimeter defense, shield-wall synchronization, and the operation of the new torsion-spring ballistas the young master is designing."
Lucius nodded in approval as Valerius outlined the standards.
"Are there any immediate flaws you can see?"
Several of the foremen shifted uncomfortably in their seats.
Cassius kept his mouth shut, still weeping over the cost of the salaries, but he understood the necessity of protecting his gold.
Titus, the burly Mine Overseer, hesitantly raised his hand. Lucius nodded toward him.
"Dominus," Titus grunted, rubbing the back of his neck. "We have nowhere to put them. The estate is crowded with laborers. If Valerius starts running shield-wall drills and firing siege weapons in the courtyards, the local farmers and passing merchants will see everything."
Lucius offered a genuinely appreciative smile. "A brilliant observation, Titus. And one that has already been accounted for."
Lucius reached beneath the table and hoisted a tightly bound roll of premium parchment, spreading it flat across the wood.
It was a highly detailed architectural blueprint.
"Gentlemen, I present the Castra Umbra. The Shadow Camp." Lucius announced.
The council members leaned over the table, their eyes tracing the lines of the drawing.
It depicted a fully enclosed, heavily palisaded fortress designed to be constructed deep within the dense woodlands bordering their western property line.
"This facility will serve as our private military academy," Lucius explained, tapping specific sectors of the blueprint. "Every man selected for the Custodes must live and train within these walls."
Lucius pointed to a large courtyard structure. "Here, Valerius and Wulfric will oversee the tactical martial training. The men will learn to wield the steel we forge, test the armor we produce, and master coordinated squad tactics."
He dragged his finger to a smaller building on the edge of the camp. "This is the medical wing. Father, you will utilize our Massilia holding company to purchase an educated Greek physician. He will be stationed here, tasked not only with healing our guards, but training a specialized squad of field medics to patch wounds during live combat."
Cassius nodded slowly.
"And finally," Lucius said, pointing to a central lecture hall.
"The Directorate of Loyalty. A guard who only fights for coin will eventually be bought by a higher bidder. Father, I am entrusting this to you.
You will lecture the recruits on the legal protections we offer them, the wealth they stand to inherit, and the doom that awaits them if they betray our syndicate."
And mark my words... Any slave in the mines, any freedman on the forge floor who demonstrates the prowess and the discipline required, may test into the Custodes. If a slave passes the trials, he is immediately granted his freedom and his salary."
For a moment, the room was suspended in silence.
The concept of elevating a slave to an elite, highly paid guard purely on merit was a radical defiance of Roman social order.
Then, Wulfric slammed his fist against the table.
Valerius joined in, grinning wildly, rapping his knuckles against the wood.
Soon, Decimus, Titus, and even Hrorek were pounding the table in a deafening applause.
Lucius looked around the room, a deep satisfaction settling in his chest.