Not for Glory

"You'll do..." the Recruiter said as he looked me over as a piece of horse flesh on sale. "What is your name, boy?"

Rubbing sweat and dirt from my face, earned from a long day of cutting wheat, I answered. "Lucas Victus, bond servant of Tiro - the owner of this Villa."

The recruiter - still looking me over, nodded and smiled. "Victus, huh? Well, consider your debt to Tiro forgiven. He has given you to the Imperial Army as a soldier in his stead."

That was about right, I thought, giving him a glare. Tiro was the kind to pay his slaves and bond servants wages so low that it would take them a lifetime or more to pay for their freedom, or pay off their debts. This has been the way of his father, and his father before him. Now his son was being brought to do the same. It was just like Tiro to worm his way out of fighting in a war. It really didn't matter now; I was free, and paid a much better wage than the pittance that was provided to me by such a master.

I nodded in understanding, keeping my contempt for my former master in check (for now) "Very well, what will you have me do?"

The Recruiter smiled, and pointed me to a wagon with a half dozen other new conscripts: "Get on."

I complied, and after all accounts were settled, the wagon, recruiter and all began a long journey south. During the trek south I was given a very big picture of the Empire's geographical and political situation. The Empire was currently ruled by Emperor Atticus the Third, who is supposedly kept in check by a weakening Senate.

To are north are a loose coalition of tribesmen, off-shore raiders and nomadic warriors. Should they ever truly organize into one cohesive force they would match any army on the planet.

To the west is a large ocean, further west unknown land spoken of in legends and stories from north men traders and captured slaves.

To the south is our main rival when it comes to economic strength. The Land of P'tah was there, a land of fertile rivers and blistering heat, the peoples being split up into three groups. There were the main body of olive skinned who made up the diplomats, priests, professional soldiers, business men, and politicians. There was a city state of slaves within the south's borders which borders which made up the bulk of city builders. Finally, there was the less organized slave army which was used as cannon fodder. As our Empire was currently undergoing a war of expansion in the south, this was the direction that was given the most detail.

Finally, to our east was a large and imposing mountain range, and beyond that lied plains filled with horses, horsemen and a brutal war chief gaining power and men under him at a frightening rate. The Imperial Army's has achieved only two victories against this force of horse soldiers, and those were both hollow.

South we went, to a fortress overlooking a sea separating the Empire from the Land of P'Tah, along the way the wagon was filled with new recruits, then recruits had to walk as more were added. By the time we got to the fortress there were eighty of us or a full centuria. The fortress' name was Fort Giaus, and there the eighty of us were trained to be legionaries, we moved rocks from one part of the fortress to the other to become strong, we ran to condition our bodies, and we were made to swim to become more coordinated. We were taught how to use the gladius, shield, and spear. But more importantly we were trained how to fight and act as one cohesive unit, not individually.

Every day it was the same thing, move rocks, run, swim, fight and repeat. Time went on, days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months. My closest comrade in arms became a man from a northern province; he had tattoos on his wrists and neck made of a strange blue ink. His name was Leif, and he didn't believe in Imperial gods. He mentioned this to me to try to get a rise out of me. My reply of "Your peoples gods, or my peoples gods; it doesn't matter. The clergy always get over paid." Must have impressed, because after that we got along well.

His people were conquered and absorbed by the Empire about a century and a half ago. Never the less he was considered a citizen of the Empire by birth and was conscripted like the rest of us. During his youth he was taught by his family to fight in single combat and during what little spare time we had he taught a few tricks, kind of a supplement to the regimented approach to combat the Imperial Army trained us in.

Our training according to the bureaucrats had ended and the centuria's orders were finally ready. We were to march south under the General Caius, the son of the Emperor, and retake a strong hold that was captured the the forces of the land of P'Tah. The centuria that I belonged to was a part of an entire Legion, including three centuria of cavalry, siege engines and the rest being infantry.

We started off in the morning. It would take at least a month to arrive at the strong hold, and who knew how long after that to retake it. The days ground on and on, soldiers began missing their homes, horses got sick then some of the soldiers. Still south and east we marched, all the while the General spoke and shouted about how we will “Retake the Empire’s land for its glory!” At about the third day this grew old and most of the Legion began to ignore his speeches and words of encouragement. By the end of the week rations began to dwindle as well as the Legions morale. To resupply, we made a stop at an outpost near the Antiacus river. This reprieve proved beneficial to the Legions morale. We had food that didn't consist of salted meat, drank wine, and several took women into their tents. Fresh supplies were put into our packs and the supply wagons, and we continued on.

The next outpost which was at the Abasi Oasis on the entrance and exit of a caravan road through the desert; the outpost belonged to the Empire at least on paper. In reality it was too far from any major stronghold belonging to either the Empire or the Land of P'Tah that it really didn't belong to any one. Again we ate food that was not salted, drank wine, and took women into our tents. Those that did, take women into their tents unfortunately had their throats slit. To make matters worse twenty horses were stolen during the night. The morning was hot and we buried our dead in shallow graves and continued on.

The farther south we marched, the hotter it became. The hotter it became, the more uncomfortable our armor became, and the heavier our shields felt. As we got closer to the strong hold we were supposed to retake the desert when from sand, to rocks and sand to a kind of scrub, and hardy grass; the oasis' and water holes were dotted with date palms and even a few orange trees. The land also showed signs of sheep, goats, horses and camels, civilization in some form or fashion was close.

We were about two days from the stronghold when the Legion was attacked. Our scouts never reported back that day, and we had marched to the point of exhaustion on the insistence of the General.

We were crossing a grassy valley when the first wave of about five hundred enemy soldiers appeared.

"Form up!" Commanded the General. "This unorganized rabble cannot defeat us! For the glory of the Empire!" There were five thousand Imperial soldiers in our legion we had them out numbered.

We were forming into ranks when they began their charge, throwing their spears and closing with clubs and hide shields screaming like wild men.

We were barely able form the first rank of the forward cohorts when the main body of the enemy crashed upon our shields like ocean waves crashing on the beach but as they crashed they spit something from their mouths into the faces of our soldiers. Our soldiers recoiled in pain as the enemy continued pushing the ranks back and apart, our archers never had a chance to nock an arrow.

It was about then when the second and third rank had formed and we were finally able to start pushing back. Shields were locked, gladius' were drawn and we began to press forward. That was when we got flanked the lightly armored enemy soldiers had sprinted to either side of the legion and attacked without warning.

The General called this enemy a rabble, unorganized. Nothing could have been further from the truth; they picked their moment to strike when we were beyond tired, they attacked with the sun at their backs, and they struck without flinching.

We were still organizing our numbers counted in-spite of our unpreparedness, of the initial five thousand Imperial soldiers that started off this attack had easily brought our numbers down to closer to three thousand, but time came back to our advantage as our cohorts began to form in earnest, there was hope. The right wing cohort formed up and turned the tide of their attackers as did the left cohort soon after. This bought enough time for the rest of the remaining legion to form up their cohorts and gave us the chance to rally.

Once we began to rally the enemy initiated a retreat which our cavalry pursued. That was when the second wave of enemy soldiers attacked. This was not an enemy cohort; this was a full enemy Legion or their equivalent. Their archers fired off a volley of arrows before their cavalry charged into our already punished flanks. Our Legions ranks were effectively broken. The mission to retake the stronghold ended in a disaster, and our great General who fought for the glory of the Empire jumped on the nearest horse and galloped away with his tail firmly tucked between his legs.

I was one of the soldiers in the middle of the Legion, and when our lines were broke I continued to fight until a cavalry man charged me. Taking up an enemy spear I got lucky and speared the riders leg and horses chest. The horse must have kicked me in the head when it reared back because the last thing I knew my ears were ringing and every thing was fading to black.

The next thing I clearly remember is waking up, I had a splitting headache, my ears were ringing, and my skin felt like it was going to boil off where anything heavier than air touched it.

"Is he alive?" questioned a feminine voice through the fabric walls walls of the tent I found my self in.

"He's alive" I announced, before making the mistake of trying to sit up. The instant my head rose from the rug that was my makeshift pillow the tent spun like a tumbling act and I dropped back onto it, which made my head ache even worse. I rubbed my face and noticed that there was a thick growth of stubble on my chin, I did not want to think about how long I was unconscious.

That was when another voice from the corner of the dark tent spoke "I wouldn't be too hasty in getting up. I had to sew your scalp back on with horse hair. You are lucky to be alive."

My hand instantly went up to the coarse stitches holding my head together and I replied "You have my thanks." I turned my head in the direction of the voice and saw a shrewd looking older gently man in at least the late forties, he had a sharp pointed beard of salt and pepper hair. He was wearing a light tan or dark off white turban, and matching robe that was common of the people of P'Tah.

He smiled at me with a set of bright white teeth and replied, "Before you thank me. You should know that you owe my wife and I your life. I believe that your people have a tradition that if you owe someone a debt that you can not repay, you become their slave?" Now the wheels were turning in my head, he had me over a barrel and at this very moment I couldn't fight it but I could get a better sense of what kind of master I would be doing work for.

Smiling at the situation because really there wasn't much else I could do about it yet I asked "Some time soon, I will be healthy enough run from this place. What is to stop me from doing that one night?"

The old man smiled back at me and stated "Where would you go? This is a foreign land to you. You may know the general direction of your home land but you do not know where food or water is to be had beyond the caravan road. There are bandits, poisoned wells, the sun, and many other things that can kill you within a day. Besides, if you run, I alert the nearest garrison about a runaway slave. You will then be tracked down, taken prisoner, whipped for running away, and then worked to death in a salt mine." This was a matter of fact statement not a threat just what will happen if the situation presented itself.

My eyes had finally adjusted to the dimness of the tent and I had noticed that my gladius and lorica where also collected. I smiled at the old man and said "then I find being your bond servant until I am able to repay my debt."

The mans devilish smile grew on his face and he replied "Good. For your work you will be given food, water, some wine, a tent over your head, and a portion of the money gained with the sell of our animals." As bond servant agreements went, that was a very generous one. I offered my hand and said "Help me up" the tent spun once again but I was able to maintain my balance and we stepped outside.

The light was painfully bright, almost to the point of blinding, and the heat felt something akin to a bricklayers kiln. It was almost enough to knock me down to the white hot sand. After a few minutes of blinding glare my eyes once again adjusted and I was able to get a better look of my new master and his wife. The man, his name turned out to be Abasi had a thinner build then I first realized and it looked like his body was nothing but hardened sinew, his eyes were keen and hard against the sun and of a dark brown. Naomi was his wife and she was just as hard as the desert as he was with dark tanned, leathery skin and hardened almost black eyes.

They were shepherds, and tended a herd of sheep, a smaller herd of goats for milk and two or three camels and had a small group of other slaves. They seemed to be getting along well enough, if not a rather sparse life.

My muscles were sore for being in one position for so long, but once I was able to move about I started to feel better. The rest of the day was spent walking with the couple learning where some local watering holes, valleys of forage, and date oasis’. The next day, I began doing my work; there are times in a person's life when an opportunity presents itself in the guise of simple tasks, this I recognised as one of those times. My first personal task was to learn the language, of those around me.

Every chance I got I listened to those around me, greetings, and farewells were a breeze to pick up. Conversations on the other hand took more effort, setting at the mat that was our eating area I gave the greeting I had heard spoken most often. The group looked at each other and chuckled at me, finished their meal, and promptly left. I expected that, with barriers in language, skin tone, and time under Abasi’s ownership being what they were. But there was one constant people will always gravitate to those who are most alike themselves. The next time we ate I tried the same approach, again, and again I was undaunted in my approach. Until one evening meal, I gave my greeting, and one of the more amiable of the slaves replied “Why do you greet us in our language? It’s not the language of your homeland.” he asked.

My reply was simple “I am not in my home land.”

The slave smiled and replied “You are quite right, I am Bhati, I will teach you how to speak our language.”

We shook hands and began as student and teacher, he taught me how to speak the language of P’Tah, and how to write in both P’Tah and Imperial. As it turned out he was a businessman and traded spices and silk from P’Tah for wood and furs from the Empire. That was before the war, when it started the ports closed and he lost everything. This life of bond servitude was all keeping him fed and sheltered.

Each morning I set to work, taking special interest in wall building, not for any sort of engineering interest though I did glean some of that, but for the physical exercise. Moving the rocks and boulders, lifting and placing them kept my body strong, and increased my stamina. I embraced the heat, my skin went from a bright pink to a dark tan, while my hair lightened several shades. But most of all I listened, I listened to the other slaves and I listened to Abasi and Naomi.

It didn’t take long for me to grow weary of a life of indentured servitude, it may have proven beneficial to Bhati but sooner or later I would make sure that I was free of it once and for all. But until then I would do what was required of me with zeal and competence. Abasi found me to be a willing and capable servant.

As the days passed my arms and chest grew larger, my mind grew keener as I learned how to speak P’Tah, and listened to those around me gathering news. Abasi was a businessman and to run the kind of business that he ran required the active knowledge of three main things; the weather, the lands political situation, and the military goings on in the area. Though this I learned that I was not the only survivor of the ill fated march to recapture the Imperial Stronghold, and that General Caius had been killed within the hour of his retreat. I had learned that the other survivors had been taken prisoners, and then sold into slavery. The numbers and where I could not glean yet.

I had soon became accustomed to being a shepherd, I was restless and would much rather not have been one but once a rhythm is established I could perform my duties with little effort. I spent my time watching sheep and using branches to keep my swordsmanship in some form of practice. I was finally dressed as a proper shepherd of P’Tah wearing a robe and turban, purchased with my own stipend. This was done more as necessity rather than fashion or culture; my close were wore out, these new close kept the heat from my body and sun off of my skin, but the robes proved effective.

As a bond servant I was not allowed to purchase weapons, however I was allowed to keep my lorica and gladius maintained. To guide and defend the flocks I was given a shepherd's crook, a kind of staff made of hard wood that had a kind of large hook at one end. It worked well against most of the deserts predators and scavengers, save for the barbary lion. If a shepherd encountered one of those he was given a horn made from a rams horn to alert other shepherds to the danger and call them into help fight off the threat. These were all I had when thieves made an attempt to steal Abasi’s sheep.

It was evening and I had just set up my tent in front of the coral gate when they arrived intent on killing me and stealing whatever they pleased. They approached with the setting sun on their backs and had their daggers drawn. I was outnumbered three to one and they began to close. I stepped back towards a campfire with my shepherd's crook in front of me like a fighting staff or polearm.

There is a tenant in most fighting studies that says something to the effect that if you can hit your opponents and they cannot hit you then you have won. In practice things are a little more complicated and rather than try to attack these thieves with the intent to kill I focused more on confounding and aggravating them. My thrusts were quick just enough strike their knuckles, a close knee, or some such while at the same time I worked to put the campfire between me and them. I was patient waiting on an opportunity to present itself saving my energy.

These thieves were slow witted, and sloppy fighting, and soon one made the mistake of stepping over the campfire in an attempt to surprise me. As soon as he did I hooked his leg with my shepherd’s crook and yanked the thieves leg out from under him. The thief fell into the fire and while his clothes didn’t catch fire the thief's hands and face did get scorched. He let out a scream as he scrambled back onto his feet. His compatriots moved out of his way and in that distraction I made my first offensive move.

I stepped forward and thrust my shepherd’s crook into the next thief’s teeth. The combination of the thrust and step forward was more than enough to break his teeth and send them scattering in the sand. In one smooth motion I took another step, placed my shepherd's crook behind the last thiefs leg and shouldered into him. The three thieves were knocked down for the moment and at that time I took up my horn and blew a warning. There was shuffling in the evening twilight and I could hear the bleating of sheep, and goats. The first, and last person to arrive was Abasi, the other slaves either ignoring the horn or not at their posts.Nevertheless now that the odds were a little more even and the thieves having already been hurt the fight didn’t last much longer with the thieves retreating. Abasi wanted to charge after them but I caught him by the shoulder and shook my head to the negative “Don’t chase them.”

Abasi turned to me with the look of hurt on his face and asked “why? Who are you to tell me what to do.”

I replied “rushing into the night in anger, after an enemy you don’t know the number of will only get you killed.”

Abasi acquiesced reluctantly indignation still in his eyes he asked “Why did you fight so hard? Those sheep are not yours and I am holding you against your will. You could have easily let them pass, take their fill and say a jackal had taken them.”

I replied looking out into the night “those men intended to murder me, and take your sheep. I don’t abide by either. Especially getting murdered.”

Abasi smiled “You are honest, and in spite of what you say, you still defended my sheep. From now on, you well be my chief slave.” With that he left me at my post, the next day he poured out the full measure of his indignation on the slaves that didn’t show up. Each one of them was given forty stripes save one.

I did not know how to be the chief slave, I knew from example how to be centurian and followed that example. I helped the other slaves in setting their tents, showed them how to use their shepherd’s crook as more than just something to beat animals with. But as for keeping sheep, goats, or camels I knew only what I did before, and the other slaves were far more experienced in that. But I did lead and I did follow Abasi’s orders.

This afforded me a great opportunity, not only was I in charge of the other slaves I was also made a steward. As part of my stewardly duties I was sent to the nearest settlement for supplies. It so happened that the nearest settlement was Ft. Commodus renamed Ramses.

There I was just a faceless slave, nothing more than a piece of privileged property. They didn’t notice me there as I bought supplies for Abasi, deliver messages, or gather information on the layout of Fort Commodus. Every time I entered the fort I made note of the number of men garrisoning it, the times when patrols made their rounds, and which P’Tah soldiers were lazy. At the tavern I listened to the soldiers talk as I drank my beer slowly. Then I would leave, a lowly slave ignored, and treated with apathy, and contempt, never with suspicion.

I would come back with my task finished, and continue the work that was in the pastures. I had gathered information and even made maps of the fort for later use. But for now I was a slave and unable to do anything with it. I had made it up in my mind that my immediate goals were to rescue any of the ill fated legion I was in form slavery, and to then either make it back to the Empire, or if the chance presented itself to help the Empire retake the stronghold. From there I didn’t have any sort of plan, but the very first thing I needed to do was gain my freedom from the indentured servitude.

That however would take some time. What was once foreign had now became a daily practice and then became routine. Mornings I would check my master's flock see that they were feeding and watering. I would pick wild dates from the oasis palms and feed the pregnant ewe’s their treat, and rub their heads with olive oil to keep the flies and other insects off of them. In the afternoons sheep, goats, camels and rams all laid down down in what little grass there was and in the shade and I punished myself. In all earnesty I lacked the common sense the gods gave a sheep to lay down in the shade when it was hot, but that was when I had time and leisure to train my body. I may have been a soldier for a short time, far shorter than I had been an Imperial bond servant, or a P’Tah slave, but I liked being a soldier. It meant that I was free, that I was not property, it meant that I could choose my own destiny.

In the evening Iead the herd to their pasture and supped at the slave’s table. A squat little two board table that had roasted goat meat, maybe ram on special occasions, date wine, slaves beer, wheat soaked in water, and plenty of water, or goats milk. I would then stand my post at the entrance of the pasture. Four hours a night then finally sleep, when Bhati would relieve me. When my head landed on that rolled up rug that made my pillow, I would fall instantly asleep. Most of the time I could not remember my dreams I slept so heavily but when I did it was mostly dreams about time spent at Fort Gaius.

Our Centurion would lead the training on the practice field outside of the Fort. I was in the third centuria, fourth cohort, of the first P’Tah legion. The Centurion would holler a command and the entire centuria would move as a unit. We would push with our shields, thrust with our gladius’ and reset ourselves for another push. We would use rudis and wicker shields and would spar against the third cohort, or the first cohort if we were practicing to fight outnumbered. We would take turns first defending then attacking. There were six separate formations that we practiced each for a separate occasion.

To my left was Leif, he was several inches taller than I, and had more reach with his gladius than I could muster. We worked well together I would cover his gladius arm with my shield, and he would guard my weaker shield arm. That was the nature of the cohort, the left side was weaker than the right, due to the shield being heavy.

Then, my dream turned to the ill fated battle, it was not our training that failed us, it was our leader. He had drove us hard pushing fifty miles a day for the entire week, in the heat just to get to the fort that much quicker. It was folly, we were attacked in waves, and the dream would end with a horse’s hoof pummeling my skull. I would wake up as a slave as I did that first evening, after the ill fated battle.

The next day as soon as the sunlight would brighten my tent would start all over again. Breakfast started with wild dates, more grain soaked in water, and goats milk. The dates were bitter, grain had poor texture, and the goats milk was partially curdled. The end of the week saw me back at the fort. Fort Commodus, or Fort Ramses as it stood now, was the stronghold the First Legion was to retake for the glory of the Empire. It was a strong occurrence of irony that I could walk into and out of the strong hold unprohibited, without having to lay siege to it. This incredibly humorous to me while at the same time, it proved devastatingly frustrating.

Near the gates of the fort was a tavern where slaves could gather, and drink beer, and spend what little stipend of money was provided to us by our masters. The beer was flat, warm, filled the belly, and most beneficial to the owners kept the slaves drunk enough to refrain from rebelling, but still effective enough to do what menial tasks is needed to be done by us indentured servants.

After my business was done done I would return to Abasi’s flock and return to my duties. Beyond my regular duties as a slave, I also saw to the duties of the other slaves. This left a bitter taste in some of them, having to follow orders from one such as I, so new to the house of Abasi and Naomi. Nevertheless I chose who would stand which watch, where they would feed their portions of the flock and where they would pasture them.

Bhati continued his lessons in writing and in speaking the language of P’Tah, and in trade I began teaching him what I knew of the sword and more importantly the spear. As slaves we could not own weapons for fear of a rebellion, but the shepherds crook worked in an emergency, and a shepherds crook could be used like a spear when needed.

The evening would then come again, and it would end in a night of heavy sleep under a tent. From time to time as I drifted off to sleep I thought of my goals to free my cohorts. First I would have to find them, as I have not seen them at the slaves tavern it appeared that they had either been taken further from the battle or were not allowed to leave their masters sight yet. Without the completion of this goal, my second goal, that to retake Fort Commodus could not be completed.

I did not want to retake the stronghold for the glory of the empire, nor for my own glory. I wanted to retake the stronghold for the simple fact that I was tasked to do it, that it has challenged me, and that it would improve my station.

I may not been the most educated man, but I am no fool. I was not about to start a rebellion across the lands of P’Tah and the Empire to free every slave that I found. No I understood that in the world I lived in slaves were necessary, every road, building, and aqueduct; every pound of grain, mutton, and fruit was touched by slave hands. It was the dirty nature of the world I lived in and it was necessary. I hated being a slave, to be property of another man, and most of all being unable to go, nor do as I chose. Bhati, the failed business man, embraced slavery, he was clothed all be it simply, fed, and under the protection of his master relatively safe from abuses of the law abiding citizens of this world. My goal was to free the men of my cohort, if others get freed alongside then so be it.

But for right now I was a slave, and I made it in my mind to be above reproach in my duties. During the day a horn echoed in the valleys, it was another horn of alarm. My flock was nestled in a pocket of a valley that I partially secured with a stone wall and I was able to leave them for a time. I rushed into the direction of the horn.

Arriving at the source of the alarm one of the other slaves had been surrounded by a pack of feral dogs. Not the wild predators of the land of P’Tah but those that have been forgotten by their owners and left to rove the wilds. There were only a few dogs, but I’d rather it be a pack of men; the dogs had surrounded my fellow slave and one was about to hamstring him when I caught it with the hook of my shepherd’s crook and threw it to the side with a yike.

Approaching my fellow slave I ordered “get to my right and keep them in front of us. If you don’t we will die.” The dogs snapped and growled as they attacked once again “Attack together, shout together!” There was no fire to maneuver around, nor was there shields and armor to protect us, it was two guys with sticks fighting feral dogs. The first dog attacked and met my thrust as I yelled while in the air. To my right I heard the yelp of another dog being struck and the shout of the slave.

Another slave showed up in time for the dogs to regroup I indicated the slave on my right and said “get to his right, attack as one, shout as one!” The sheep and goats bleated and squealed in panic behinds us as the dogs attacked once again. The dog closest to me bit my shepherd’s crook and I pushed forward. The dog kept a grip on the crook and fell back. In its struggle my crook twisted and snapped. It scrambled to get back up and I thrust the splintered end of my staff the soft part of the dogs throat.

Another dog was about the take advantage of my dropped guard but its head was cracked hard by the slave to my right. It yelped and ran off, after that the dogs wounded, and bruised found that the flock was too difficult to attack and choose to attack one another before finding the weakest of the pack and tearing that apart.

When satisfied that the flock was safe I returned to my own. That night the three of us were rewarded with an extra bottle of date wine and a whole yearling sheep for our meal. As slave we were nothing but property but, that evening we lived it up like nobles.

The next morning came way too soon, my head ached, I had to squint even more so than normal, and there was a foul taste on my tongue. The heat was nearly unbearable and I felt like my movements were jerky, and stiff. The hours passed slowly, and it seemed that my water skin was less than adequate to quench my thirst. I knew exactly why I felt such illness upon my body, it was the date wine. Heavy drink, and not enough sleep caused this and the entertainment I had the night before was outlasted by the discomfort of the day after.

At midday I took a break, I did not sleep but I found a place of shad near a spring. I drank the cool water and sat in the shade. From time to time a sheep or goat would come to visit me, I would pet them, and at the same time check them for wounds, thorns, or anything else that may have done them harm. They would then just as quietly leave once again and drink some water and return to the flock.

As the evening came, the headache went away as all pain does over time, my tongue was cleansed of the disgusting taste and the sun seemed more forgiving. It was soon time to lead the sheep back to their pasture for the night where they could be watched for the entire night. I stood and began leading the sheep and contemplated the difference on how a butcher leads VS how a shepherd even on such as myself leads. I lead in front of the flock making sure that there was no danger in its path and looking back to make sure that they were not being attacked. A butcher had to drive a flock from the back and force it to go where he wanted them to.

Autumn was drawing near, and with it the time to sell, rams for breeding, wethers for meat, and late lambs for feasts during the fall and winter months. We would keep the main body of our flock until the spring, but the our rams and all of our goats will be sold. With any luck they would sell for a good price. Not all slaves would go, there were still flocks to manage after all. For this task Abasi chose Bhati and myself to go with him.

The trip took us several days, past Fort Ramses, and down the caravan road to the city of Kheb. Abasi and Bhati explained that the city had started out as a trading post, but because of it’s location along the Asim river it grew to be a fair sized city. No where near the size of P’Tah’s capital but large enough to be considered bustling, and a place where nearly fifteen thousand people lived. It was controlled by the religious and more powerful branch of P’Tahs government.

P’Tah’s government was divided into two separate branches as it were, there was a figurehead who governed the day to day running of the land, the building of the infrastructure, the accounting for taxes, and the creation of civil laws and most everything else within the borders of P’Tah. There was also the priesthood, they had control of the military, criminal law, the collection of tithes, and diplomacy between other nations. IT was much more complicated than this but the important parts came down to the figure head controlled things inside of the borders of P’Tah, and the priests controlled things outside of the borders.

My observations of Kheb was that it was all that it was described, there was trade, and there was thousands of people living, and working within it. There was a garrison captain talking with a merchant, an auctioneer selling slaves, and a caravan leader negotiating with a bargeman trying to get his company down river.

Where we were headed though was still outside the city gates, it was a near the livery underneath one of the walls and protection and watchful eye of the guards. There were several pens and corrals for livestock, which we herded out rams and goats. We were not the only shepherds there, we had plenty of competition.

Abasi sighed dejectedly “we have arrived too late. We will never sell our animals for a good price now.”

I looked at him, he was a good shepherd, wise in his own regard, but he was also not confident when it came into business dealings. “Soldiers are hungry people too” I said to him, “if we sell to the butcher, you are right we will never get their value. But…” I pointed out the captain “fresh meat can go an incredibly long way into currying favor with his men, and if we sold right to him he would be happy to not have to pay the exorbitant prices for meat from the butcher.”

Abasi shook his head “No, if we sell directly to him, the butchers will be angry, and I’ll have to give them a discount next time.”

I insisted “Trust me, if you can get into good terms with the soldiers, and guards you’ll not have to fear the butchers, and you’ll get loyal customers. But if it doesn’t work then I sure we can make a recompense to the butchers.”

Abasi frowned but finally acquiesced “You may be right, I will allow you to speak with the captain.” I bowed my head and took my leave.

The captain had moved on to another merchant, one that was selling armor both leather, and metal. This gave me a way to start conversation; speaking in the language of P’Tah I spoke “May I suggest a guilted undershirt if you are going to purchase one of the metal lorica, it prevents the the shoulders from wearing down.”

The Captain looked at me, and asked “who might you be?” He saw my garb and the chin strap scar, “a former soldier, now a slave?” almost disgusted at my presence.

I bowed my head and stated “I am Lucas, bond servant of Abasi, the shepherd. I have been a slave or bond servant for far longer than I ever was a soldier. My master would like to sell you fresh meat in the form of goats and wethers.”

The Captain raised an eyebrow “and why would I want to buy sheep and goats that are not slaughtered? I have no need for them, I’m not a shepherd!”

I kept my head bowed “Oh, good captain, may your shadow never grow less. May I say that if you were to purchase our animals and feed your men, they would feast, for days, have fresh meat for even longer, and you would be a champion in their eyes. Not only that but to fed your men by purchasing directly from us you would be saving your garrison’s quartermaster money which will make him incredibly happy.”

The Captain smiled “You speak the truth. I will see your master.”

The Captain met with Abasi, and Bhati, the pair with the lead of Bhati struck an amiable deal with the Captain. He was happy receiving so much meat at such a little price, and Abasi was happy receiving such a good sale of his sheep and goats, and currying favor with the city guards in the process.

“Ah haa!” Abasi exclaimed with joy “this is a princely sum of silver, with it I can purchase new bucks, rams and slaves. Enough to set Naomi and I up for quite sometime.” He was grinning from ear to ear “Lucas and Bhati you both have done, incredibly well today! You will be amply rewarded.”

I smiled, rewards were rewards rather a slave, or a free man people enjoy being rewarded for their work. The reward came in the form of a triple share of the sale that was to be our reward. Bhati decided to spend his money a new robe, and turban in the fashion of a shepherd. I decided on a pair of sandals in the fashion that an Imperial soldier. Not for any sort of combat reason, however they were there, but because the afforded the most stability in the ankle and protection for the soles and toes of my feet.

They felt good, they were made of an exotic thick leather dyed a deep red and laced up to my middle calf. In spite of my status, the fact that I couldn’t carry weapons, nor wear armor, wearing sandals reminiscent of a profession that I actually enjoyed improved my mood tremendously.

We were to spend a few more days in the city of Kheb, as Abasi didn’t want to waste the trip. He spent the first day picking out cloth for Naomi to make cloths from later on. The next day was used to purchase supplies; spices, lamp oil, bags of grain, and other sundries. Finally on the last day Abasi spent time at an auction purchasing livestock, he bought a pair of buck goats that had long horns, a trio of rams with white wool and large shoulders, finally at this same auction he bought five new slaves. These slaves were nearly broken and half starved, they had an ill look, they had come from one mne or another and had been worked beyond their usefulness to whichever master they had belonged to.

Not all slave owners were like Abasi who followed the idea of ‘bricks are made of slaves, the strong make many, the weak make few, and the dead make none’. Some treated their slaves worse than animals, the worked them to exhaustion, barely fed them, and sheltered them in pens exposed to the air with more investment into the pens than any shelter. Neither Abasi, nor the cruel slave owners were the exception, they were part of the full spectrum of slave owners. Abasi kept his slaves fed, clothed in something besides rags, and gave them shelter in the form of tents; he was on the better side of the spectrum. The slaves Abasi purchased would be in good hands in a couple of weeks.

We finally left the city of Kheb and started the long trek back to the pastures, and corrals familiar to Bhati and I on what is currently considered the far edge of the land of P’Tah bordering the Empire; while at the same time the Empire considered it their lost territory, and had made it their quest to retake the area. During the trip, the newly purchased slaves remained quiet and ate like ravenous dogs during the first evening. Without recognising them as human by walking upright, it was difficult to differentiate between the broken slaves and animals.

The next morning we started off at sunrise, traveling down the old caravan road. We met up with and passed, or met up and were passed by other travelers. Eventually though we were left traveling on our own. The heat was bearable for Bhati, Abasi and I but for the newly purchased slaves still in their rags they took the full brunt of the sun on their bodies. The traveling was slow with the new slaves needing rest and water often.

The day passed, with the noon sun beginning is slow fall into the evening, we continued until it was too dark to see and stopped for the night. The first task for the newly acquired slaves were to collect camel dung to start a fire. Deserts got cold at night, and there is little if any wood to build enough of a fire to combat the cold. It was the sheep, and goats that warned us of danger before we even started a fire. Soon after the sheep started bleating in panic, we could hear dog growling, a bark and the cry of one of the slaves as the dog attacked him. The attack was quick, the sheep squalled and bleated even louder, as several thieves came from near by rocks. The newly acquired slaves were the first to be attacked, cutting their defenceless flesh without thought. Bhati, Abasi and I put our backs to one another as the thieves closed. As one neared me I kicked up sand and dung into the thief's face.

The thief recoiled and I lunged at him, we both tumbled to the ground and I grabbed the wrist of his sword in a wrestlers grip. I twisted his wrist and the thief let go of his club. It was the kind that was used by P’Tah’s dark skinned warriors. A solid stone fastened to a hardwood handle with leather straps. We separated and scrambled for the club I got to it first, picking it up I gripped it with both hands and struck him hard in his face. His jaw dislocated making his face sag in a strange way. The thief’s body twisted, and I struck him again in the kidney, as he fell to his knees I struck him one last time in the back of the head. It had been quite some time since held anything other than a shepherd’s crook in my hand, but holding a weapon, any kind of weapon felt good, the weight of the stone growing heavier as it passed through the air, the smooth feel of a well worn hand grip, and the abrupt shock and session of movement as the head felt solid purchase. It all felt good, visceral, it was a base pleasure of living in the moment something which was sorely missed.

The dog that had attacked the slave charged me while I was still off balance and sank its teeth into the forearm of my rove. I drove my knee into its throat as the dog, and my arm came down and it let go with a yike. I turned on my heal and pummeled one of the pair of thieves attacking Bhati. Using the club I struck the thief’s skull and he dropped, lifeless and Bhati used the distraction to finish off the second thief attacking him. My mind was racing, there was not much difference between my last encounter with thieves and this one except there were more thieves and they were better equipped. Abasi was also attacked and called out, the thief had Abasi pinned down shouting curses at him with a dagger dangerously close to the shepherds throat. I pummeled Abasi’s thief in his kidney, shoulder and skull. If there were more attackers they had either sped away or were otherwise disinclined to make an attack , the skirmish was over.

The wheels in my mind didn’t stop turning when the fighting stopped. I began rummaging through the thieves belongings. They didn’t need them any more, I found a bag of gems, and other precious stones, a pouch full of silver coins, the thief’s all were armed, most had clubs but one had an Imperial pugio type dagger. It was a beautiful leafed shape knife, with a rosewood hilt, and an edge sharp enough to shave with. I slipped it into my belt started to adjust my cloths, and started to clean my hands with sand when Abasi spoke up “you can’t keep that, slaves are not allowed to arm themselves.”

That’s when I turned toward Abasi and stated “Abasi, my kind host, you saved my life and held me to that debt as a bond servant until I was able to repay such a debt. Now, correct me if I am wrong but if I had not clubbed your attacker just a few moments ago, you would be dead?”

Abasi stammered in protest but eventually he said “Yes, I would have been. But I...”

I cut Abasi off “My debt is paid in full, combining the work I have done for you for the last several months and longer my debt is more than paid off. I am no longer your bond servant or slave. Now, we can do this the honorable way where you absolve my servitude,and I’ll finish this job of returning you, and your livestock to your home, or I can leave you here now to the thieves, predators, and your shame.”

Abasi was disgruntled but relented, “You are free to go. Your debt to me is paid in full.”

I thanked Abasi for my release and split the spoils of the fight between Abasi, Bhati and myself I kept a larger cut considering my status as a freeman. I was free, and that fact made me giddy. There was no more incidents that evening and the three of us all rested and slept. It wasn’t a deep sleep but we still work up more rested.

The next morning we took stock of the kind of damage the thieves had done. The slave that was attacked by the dog was dead, another one was wounded but still alive. The other two had disappeared during the night. The four of us, Abasi, the last remaining newly purchased slave, Bhati, and I continued on, eventually we passed Fort Ramses, and the following afternoon we finally reached Abasi’s home.

I now had my freedom, but freedom without goals was a wasted life. I had accomplished one goal I had finally gained my freedom. The next goal was still a long way off I had to think as to how to accomplish it. My next goal was to free the men of the legion I belonged to, I knew by listening to Abasi that there were survivors and that most likely they were used as slaves to mine salt and other materials; mine slaves were not allowed out of the mines because they tended to run away.

After I had freed them, then what? Was the question. A slave freed by force can easily be a slave once again, or scourged to death when they have been caught. Not a pleasing thought, I could buy maybe one or two slaves with my earnings but my cohort was four hundred eighty men. I couldn’t even buy my entire centuria with the money I had. It would have to be violence that freed my compatriots.

“So, where will you go?” Abasi asked shocking me out of my thoughts I looked up shaking the confusion off, he had asked me this before, after I asked him a question about what was keeping me from running away. The question had a different purpose this time and it made me smile. “First thing I am going to the garrison’s tavern and have a meal, the likes of which I never had as a slave, bond servant, or soldier!” I exclaimed “milk, honey, beef, Imperial wine, cream, and a large bowl of olives, and you’re coming with me.”

Abais stopped me “Wait, you can’t go in there looking like a slave. You need proper cloths of a free man. Here look through some of my old things, and see if there’s anything of interest to you. Naomi will make the adjustments.”

I picked out a lennon tunic, burnt orange in color that reached my knees, belted with a red belt with brass buckle to accommodate my pugio and my sandals. I picked out a red shepherds turban which could wrap around my face in the event of a sand storm. Naomi complimented “You are quite the dandy” and any day a woman compliments a man in such a way is a good day. Soon, Abasi, and I had made our way to the garrison tavern, there was a stark difference between the slaves tavern, and the garrisons.

The noise level it self was louder, there were many men, and women they had smiles on their faces before drink and addled their minds for the evening. The smell was just as bad, a mix of body odor, grease, and alcohol, added to that was the smell of various perfumes and scents to mask everything else, but the atmosphere was less grim, and much more jocular. When we found our table, I gorged myself savoring every bite, every sip of that meal, hours after the fine meal was nothing more but crumbs and empty bowls I was still chuckling, belching, and laughing. It felt so very good to be free, and that made the meal taste even better. It was a celebration.

As Abasi, and I let our overly full bellies rest I asked him, “how difficult would it be, to find a specific slave?”

Abasi leaned forward and asked “and why would you want to know about a specific slave?”

I shrugged and answered mostly honestly “he is a friend, and a compatriot, and I would look into his welfare.”

Abasi nodded understandingly and said “If you can get me a description, a name, or distinguishing marks I may be able to find him but I guarantee nothing.” I described Lief, gave his general position in my cohort and the description of his tattoos.

Abais took a few mental notes and asked one last question “And what will you do if I do find him well.”

Again I answered mostly honestly “I would like to have you buy him and free him with my money. After that I will part company with you.” Abasi nodded once again “I will see what I can do.”

I thanked him and ordered another bowl of cream and honey dates.

After such a feast it was slow going back to Abasi’s home. As soon as my head hit the cushion of my bed , not just a rolled up rug and a matt, I drifted into sleep thinking of my comrade. Lief was from the northern part of the Empire, and was conscripted a few weeks before I was. His people were conquered a century and a half before and had been integrated as Imperial citizens over the generations as they assimilated into the Empire’s culture. It was not a total assimilation as he still wore the tattoos, he also fought in their ways of spear and sword fighting.

We often sparred in our leisure time, I trusted my scutum and gladius while he worked his spear, and manica he had the definite advantage in reach often striking fast probing my greater defense for a weakness. When I first began sparring with him I would be soundly beaten, he was fast and when he stuck my shield it felt like a sledge hammer hitting it. But as I grew more comfortable with my role as a soldier, and grew in my skill of fighting with a gladius and scutum, I would beat him, not soundly but I would win.

“Keep your shield up” Leif instructed as his thrust his spear forward. I would block the attack, but would have to maneuver back as the spears butt-spike collided with the side of my shield throwing me off balance. The next match I deflected his thrust but when the butt spike whipped around to knock me off balance I anticipated it and stepped to the side letting the swing crash upon my shield. The lesson learned was to be mobile in a fight, this was not something I was trained to do when fighting in formaton. We went back and forth until both of us were tired, and covered in blood, and sweat; even when in practice people still got hurt but nothing more than a good brawl in a tavern. These sparring matches remained in my dreams until daylight shook me from my sleep.

I was still full from the previous night’s meal, and eager to meet my friend. I knew in my mind that it would take several days if not weeks to have him tracked down, but it still was dwelling on my mind. There were other problems I need to focus my mind upon as well, I needed money. I had saved almost all of my gold and silver earned while I was bonded to Abasi, and I was rewarded nicely with a fair sum of money from the sell of Abasi’s rams and goats, but it would not last. Especially when I was not earning any new money, times would get thin for a little while as Leif and I planned our next move.

Then the thought occurred to me, I already knew the next move we were going to liberate our fellow legionnaires, and after that march north. We couldn’t stay, odds were that if we tried to attack with such a small force we would be overwhelmed by P’Tah’s forces, and if waited than news of the rescue would find its way to a garrison and we would be attacked, and again we would be overwhelmed.

I would need to prepare, Leif would need a loreca and a weapon at the very least, I would probably need a scutum. All it would take was money, and I had a few days at the least before I would have to buy what we needed, and in that time I could earn more. Looking across the tent I said “Abasi, in the time I have known you, your herd has been attacked by thieves, have any of your neighbors been attacked as well?”

Abasi nodded “It is an unfortunate fact of life out here, far from a city, and its garrisons. Thieves camp out in the wilderness, and pray on our flocks, steal our money, and kill our slaves. Some are deserters from both Imperial, and P’Tah armies, others are escaped slaves, and still more are criminals who have been forced out of the cities.”

I nodded and asked “Are they organized?”

Abais shook his head “No, if they had organized, they would have became a credible threat to P’Tah and would be dealt with swiftly. To, the garrison’s they’re just a nuisance. To us, the people out here they’re just an unfortunate fact of life.”

I rubbed my chin contemplating shaving the beard I had grew into something nearer an Imperial type. “Where do they come from?”

Abasi shrugged “You will have to ask them. None of us shepherds have tried hunting them.”

I grinned and said “I will ask them.” I was eager, I didn’t have any particular grievance against freed slaves, but criminals, and deserters they were in the wrong. They were also the better equipped and more dangerous. I had no problems dealing with them.

It would take time, time for Abasi to find Leif, and time for me to raid some small groups of thieves. Robbing thieves, I enjoyed the irony of the idea, and the fact made me smile. It was a chance for me to practice single combat properly, something I haven’t had in a long time.

The next week Abasi made a few trips to Fort Ramses, and I started patrolling Abasi’s herd and a few of Abasi’s neighbors. There were a few attacks by feral dogs, even one by a pack of hyenas. The thieves seemed to have kept quiet in the area I patrolled.

Thieves, they like any other predator attacked the weak, and injured. If you prove yourself difficult to take advantage of, they will find easier prey. The shepherds were grateful, and paid me a small reward for the hides of the dogs, and hyenas.

I had went about things all wrong being in my armor, and carrying my gladius at my side. The next week I tried something more subtle, I put away my armor, and gladius, I took up a shepherd’s crook once again, and sheathed my pugio underneath the robes of a common shepherd. I smelled of sheep, goats, and camels and mixed among the herds. It was only a matter of time until thieves finally returned.

They showed up in the evening, not many mind you but enough to really do the job on a few slaves and steel sheep. The leader of the little rabble was a fat Aegean, a light olive skinned man with black greasy hair. He lumbered towards a slave, and pummeled him to the ground with a heavy, and sloppy strike with a cestus, while another pair swarmed him. The fight was not fair at all.

The sheep, and goats retreated further into the corral that they were kept in, as the thieves made sure that the slave was dead before they started moving in for the sheep. I had seen this happen from across a small valley. It is an unfortunate reality that if you are not able to defend yourself, help can and often will arrive too late.

The thieves concentrated more on taking the sheep, than keeping an eye out for anyone else be that a shepherd, guard or someone like myself; one of which was entertaining the others with a kind of steeple chase. The fat Aegean had a wheezing laugh, as he he sat upon a rock making sport of his comrade. I sprinted towards the leader of the thieves, jumping onto the rock, and thrust my pugio into his neck, and shoulder.

The fat Aegean shouted in pain before he reached over his head, and threw me onto the ground. There was a flow of blood running down his shoulder, and chest as he stood to strike me with hs cestus. The first blow came down harder than expected and made my head spin, he drew back to take a second strike but lost his footing, stumbling back. I took that opportunity and lept back at him driving my pugio into his belly, sawing across his midsection.

Mid saw I was abruptly ripped from the fat Aegean by his two compatriots I landed hard and lost my pugio. They in turn drew their weapons, one had a pugio similar to mine, the other drew a an exotic looking curved sword, with an intricately carved hilt. While prone I grabbed two large handfuls of sand and rocks and hurled it in their faces. When they recoiled I shoulder tackled the one with the sword, as he was the nearest, and we both hit the ground. I grabbed a nearby rock, and was about to smash his jaw when the thief with the dagger kicked the rock out of my hand before driving his dagger at my shoulder in a similar fashion as I did the Aegean.

I rolled off the thief with the sword and scrambled back to my feet, the pugio, a kind of dagger slashing through the sleeve of my shepherd’s robe, digging into my bicep. The thief with the pugio continued to slash and hack at me while his compatriot clambered back to his feet. As I worked to gain some distance from the pair I picked up a rock on the move, and underhand tossed it at the thief with the pugio. It struck his stomach, he let out an “oof!” doubled over and tripped his partner. They both struggled to disentangle themselves from one another, and I struck back but kicking the thief in the throat leaving him gasping, and clutching his gullette.

The thief with the sword stepped over his gasping buddy and in a two handed over the head swing attacked. The attack was slow, but powerful, I sidestepped the attack as it came down, and struck the thief in the kidney. The thief let out a howl and spun around, with his exoticly curved sword. I caught his wrists in a wrestling move, forced his arms up, drove my knee into his groin. I felt the grip on his sword loosen, and I drove my knee into his groin again for good measure.

The thief finally dropped his sword, and I smashed my head into his nose, and face. He spit out teeth onto the desert sand, and staggered back, then fell grabbing his face, and gargling his own blood. I finished him off as with a quick stomp, and turned my attention back to the, only surviving thief left.

He was still gasping, and choking for breath trying to get away from the corral, and me. Picking up the exotic sword I chased after him, and kicked his legs out from under him. Placing the blade near the thief’s neck I told him “take me to where you’re hiding.” In retrospect this was a very bad idea, as there could have been more thieves hiding. Nevertheless under the threat of death he took me to where the tro had been stashing their loot.

It was nestled in a small pile of rocks, where a makeshift pen was holding about a half dozen sheep, and goats. An old decrepit camel that should have been set free a year ago, and a real pretty roan horse, that looked emaciated. There were baskets of salted meat, and a cask of date wine, and a small bag of coins. I drove that thief, who was still trying to breath properly, the goats, sheep, camel, and horse; the last two carrying the stolen goods, back to Abasi’s home.

After the fight, and thinking back to it I was very lucky. The slash to my robe could have been through my flesh as well, the punch to the head from the fat Aegean could have knocked my unconscious. Things could have gone against my favor in a myriad of ways, and I could be just as dead as the slave, or the other two thieves. It is an often overlooked fact of life that you tomorrow is not guaranteed, especially when you went actively put yourself in harm's way. Throughout that entire fight I relied more on luck, than any skill I had.

Abasi was happy upon my return, he graciously bought the sheep, goats, camel, and even the thief as a replacement for the lost slave. I decided to keep the horse, he was not ready to be ridden yet, he was too skinny, and weak to carry much more than that I put on his back. The salted meat, and wine I gave to him outright for the trouble of keeping me around.

I had rearmed myself after the brawl I had with the thieves. I retrieved the pugio I claimed, and decided to claim the exotic sword. It’s ballance was different than that of a gladius, but it felt comfortable in my hand, and was designed to be forgiving in the cut.

“Abasi, what is the name of this sword?” I questioned handing him the curved blade. He took it from me and examined it, he rolled it and tested its balance. There was a bit of an old warrior within him, from a forgotten past, buried by years of shepherding. “It is called a khopesh, it’s a blade taken from a land we conquered in the east. It’s a good blade, you can catch people with the hook, cut them, or stab them.” He demonstrated each kind of attack one could do with such a blade, and handed it back to me.

I smiled “I like it!” I exclaimed comparing it to my gladius, it hung lower than I liked it to, I would have to get a scabbard that fit to my back for it. It was about six inches longer than my gladius, but it felt about the same weight. The extra length would be a boon in any kind of fight, as it was said, if you can touch your enemy, and they can not touch you then the fight is won. I sheathed it to my belt for now, and adjusted my it the best I could. After adjusting the fit I pulled my belt off, and took a look at my face in the mirror. It had been quite some time since I had cleaned myself up.

I walked the horse to a nearby spring, and let it drink while I bathed. The horse seemed to be well trained, just neglected. The spring had a stone pool built around it to gather water for such a purpose, and I used it to soak my body. The water was warmed by the desert sun, but not to a point that would be comfortable. I dunked my head into the water, and scrubbed the dirt, blood, and sweat from my body. I donned my tunic, and walked the horst back to Abasi’s home.

The following evening, Abasi came to visit me “I have news of your friend.” he said sitting across from me in his tent.

I smiled and sat down, “so you found him?” I asked eagerly.

Abasi nodded and said “he survived the battle you were in, and was taken prisoner. He was than sold into slavery.” The old shepherd got solom, “he has been resistant to his master's will, he has been whipped, starved, and left in the sun to try and break him. His master is at his wits end and the next time your friend resists, he will be scourged to death.”

I smiled, and then chuckled, my friends life was in danger, but there was a silver lining. Abasi leaned forward curiously and asked “what is so funny?”

Gasping for a breath I stated “He can probably be bought for cheap. I’m never gonna let him live it down.” Abasi smiled and laughed along side me “tomorrow I shall attempt to purchase him.”

I thanked Abasi and went for an evening walk. I took the roan horse along with me, I had started feeding him dates along with his normal graze. It had only been a few days since he had been given any attention but he had already shown signs of improvement. There was a light in his eyes that wasn’t there when I first found him. He also seemed to have more energy, his ears perked up more, and he seemed to trot around a bit when I let him. All that being said, he was still a skeleton inside his own skin. I dared not put him through the stress of riding him at this moment.

The next few nights were going to be stressful enough, I would have to get my friend food, make sure he was still able to fight and then implement the rest of my incredibly loose plan of rescuing my compatriots. I honestly did not know what I was doing.

What I did know was a few things, first I knew that in spite of my training I still needed to learn a lot more. Secondly, I knew that in a few hours, a day or two at the most I would have a compatriot, that opened more options for me, and finally I would not be alone anymore. Yes I was surrounded by slaves, Abasi, Naomi, Bhati, and whatever visitors may come to Abasi’s home, but I was still alone, in a strange land, surrounded by people that spoke a strange language, who did not share a people's history, common experiences, or even the same nationality.

In a few days I will be reunited with my fellow countryman, a fellow cohort, and a very good friend. I was acquainted with the slaves and of course Abasi and Naomi, they were hospitable even when I was a slave, but friends took a long time to cultivate, and even now with all my work they were still at a distance. I was almost giddy, I was nervous because as soon as Leif was freed the next step of my plan would be set into motion.

I just had to wait.

Finally, the day that Abasi was to purchase Leif came; Abasi, and I traveled to Kheb the trip being faster when not herding sheep, and slaves. The transaction was antiseptic, Leif’s owner a man named Ubaid having grown tired of Leif’s antics offered to sell him to us for five silver pieces, in comparison to this betrayal cost thirty pieces of silver. What came next was quite a bit more exciting.

Leif was transported from Ubaid’s place, to Kheb in a slave cart; a cart, pulled by a mule, carrying a cage with a slave or slaves in it. There were two retainers which were used to guard the cart, and when the cage door was opened, and Leif’s feet touched solid ground he sprang like a cat. First he drove his elbow into the one of the retainers, as the first retainer lurched to the side, Leif than shoulder tackled the second one, and started sprinting off with his hands still tied.

I was both happy, and panicked my friend, and cohort was still a spirited warrior, but at any given moment an overzealous guard might put an arrow through him. I stepped out of the shade of the Venalitii, or slave traders stall and shouted “Leif!” he came to a screeching halt and looked up at the familiar voice. The two retainers, caught up with Leif and were about to beat him down and I shouted at them too “IF you touch him again will have you whipped by the guards. He is not yours, not any more!” I placed my hand upon my khopesh to solidify the point. I shook my head at both of them, but maintained eye contact at Leif. He caught my meaning easily enough, and returned Abasi, and my side. After the little incident we took our leave of Ubaid, and left the city not wanting more trouble.

Once we were a safe distance from the city of Kheb I turned to Leif and told him with a waggish glee “I always knew you were cheap” and cut his bonds before handing him a pugio.

Leif looked down at his cut bonds, the knife in his hands and the slow realization that he was once again free passed through his mind. He smirked, which grew into a genuine grin. Then he hugged me, with a back breaking, rib crushing hug “Thank the gods! Thank you my good friend!” I could barely breath in Leif’s excitement.

He finally dropped me, jumped into the air and shouted joyously eventually though he did come down from his initial excitement, though he kept a perpetual grin which seemed to complement his strange blue tattoos on his face, and wrists. Leif grinned at me and said “Lucas Victus! My good friend, I owe you a debt that I fear that I cannot repay.”

I knew what he meant, he meant that he owed me his freedom, but I replied “I am sure you will find five silver, in time.”

He smiled at the sentiment and stated plainly “You, have freed me from slavery. If you will permit me I would follow your lead.” He was sincere in his statement and offered his hand.

I took it and answered him “Only if you follow me as a friend. I have no room for slaves, you are your own man.” Leif shook my hand in a familiar vice like grip, and we made idle talk on our way back to Fort Commodus . We stopped at the tavern, and Leif, and I shared a meal, at Abasi’s expense.

There we talked quietly amongst ourselves, leaning over the table I asked Leif “So, tell me about what happened after the battle? After the cavalry charge.”

Leif shook his head replying “There’s not a lot to tell really. After the cavalry charge, the battle was pretty much over. You were buried under a horse, and looked like you were dead. After all was said and done, there were about fifty survivors.” Leif grimaced “Out of fifty two hundred, the rest of us were rounded up, and taken to Fort Commodus, there the tribunes, and centurions were executed. The rest of us were sold to the salt mine, some of us tried to escape right away not knowing where to go. They were never seen again, as for me I was resistant to the whip, I knew if I pushed too far they’d just kill me but I did make things difficult, out of frustration they sold me off to someone else. I made things difficult for him too, eventually he heard someone was looking to purchase me, and here we are. What about you?” He asked taking a drink.
I went the honest rout, I told him about waking up in Abasi’s tent, the threats to keep me in servitude, and my efforts to free him. He took the fact that I didn’t attempt to escape harder with suspicion, until I told him about being allowed into the Fort, and learning about various oasis’, watering holes, and springs between here, and Fort Gaius. He nodded, and understood my meaning, without alerting Abasi to my intentions.

We finished our meal, and returned to Abasi’s home. There we discussed the dimensions of the salt mine, how many guards there were guarding it, and how many slaves there were working. There were only ten or twenty guards patrolling in the day time, and maybe one or two in the evening, and night. They relied on the slaves being constantly too tired to fight, and intimidation to keep them in line.

The mine itself was a partially open pit mine with smaller shafts following veins of salt under the desert sands. The entire mine had wooden fortifications around it, there was one gate leading and out of it. All barracks, and other buildings were within the fortification. The slave barracks had an extra fence around it that lead to to the mine itself. At night two guards watched the from the top of the fortification, there were also the guards barracks within the fortification on the other side of the fence. In the daytime, eight other guards managed the miners and keep an eye on people who entered, and exited. It was far from impregnable, but for slaves, and two men who were trying to free some of the slaves, it was enough to make the task daunting.

Leif and I knew what we had to do, it would have to be a night attack, or very early in the morning would be better. We both knew that when we left that night we wouldn’t be coming back not for quite some time at the very least so we made sure we packed up all of our meager belongings. We had roasted meat that would keep for a few days, a bottle of date mead, and a few blocks of goat cheese. It was not enough, not nearly enough to last even the two of us till we got back to the Empire.

When we left, we had taken the roan horse with us, I had put on my lorica, a cloak over that, and armed myself with my khopesh, and pugio.I gave Leif my gladuius, and an extra pugio, I wished I was able to get him a lorica, or some other form of armor for what we were about to attempt. I also wished for a shield, two good scutums would have been better. There were a lot of wishes I had, but they wouldn’t be fulfilled, not without a lot of hard work .

On the way to the salt mine where the majority of my cohorts were imprisoned I mulled over the best way to attack it with only two people. A thought hit me, and it made me smile, and snicker. Leif looked at me and asked “what’s on your mind?”

I grinned “I know how we’re going to get into the mine. If we’re quick about it we might even have the guards outnumbered.”

Leif canted his head and asked “How are we going to do that?”

I explained, “you said that there was only two guards patrolling the mine at night. I also know that at the end of a long night watch you don’t have all your horses pulling in tandem, you think slowly. What I have in mind is I’ll throw you onto the back of the horse and call for help. You’re going to moan, and howell. Better yet make some gods awful unnatural noises as loud as you possible can. Sound like a raving madman, as soon as one of the guards comes down to shut you up, or help me out we attack. If we’re fast enough we can kill both of the guards, and get into the slave barracks to rescue them.”

Leif chuckled replying “That’s not too bad of a plan, but why am I on the horse?”

“Easy” I said “I speak the language of P’Tah. Do you?”

Leif shook his head “Nope.”

The walk to the salt mine took most of the night and the moon had dropped below the horizon when the mine came into sight. We then rested, the same rules for a long night applied to us. There we napped until about two hours before the sun rise, then finished the trip to the mine. Before we came over the last rise Leif got up on the horse, flopped down on his stomach, and he started really wailing and moaning.

I approached the gate and shouted above Leif’s performance in the language of P’Tah “Hello!! My friend needs help!” To add to the point Leif began clucking.

The guard very tiredly questioned “what in the devil is wrong with him!?”

“He needs help!” I yelled back, and Leif howelled at the stars in a raspy howell before calling.

The second guard came to investigate, and questioned “Can you shut him up?!”

I shook my head and spread my arms apart “No! You can come down and give it a try, if you want to!”

The second guard laughed “How bout I put an arrow in him? That’ll quiet him down, and I won’t have to climb down!”

Leif gulped, and made a indescribable sound, I shouted above the mildly panicked Leif “You might shoot my horse! You don’t want to have to buy it do you?!”

The guard smiled, and threatened “How about we shoot you too and get some peace?! Go away!”

I cringed, and demanded “my friend needs help, we need your torch light! We’re not going until you help us! We need help!”

Finally one of the guards groaned, set his bow down, and started down from his post, followed closely by his counterpart. The gate opened and Leif poured on the caterwauling, he bleated like a sheep, squawked like a peacock, made unintelligible noises of every type, and the two guards came closer. Both of them, paid more attention to to Leif, and I stepped back letting them get closer. Then all of a sudden Leif stopped his squalling, snapped his head up, looked the guard at his head in the eye, and thrust the pugio into his throat. While at the same time I slashed the second guard in the throat from ear to ear. They both gurgled and choked while they tried to fight back.

Leif vaulted over the horse, and stabbed his guard in the side, place a leg behind his, and shouldered into him knocking him to the ground, before he could draw his weapon. Leif then held the guards mouth, and nose to stifle the sound of their struggle. My guard clumsily thrust his hasta, a spear meant for thrusting at me, as blood gushed from his gullette, I grabbed the spear, and twisted it, disarming it from his blood slicked hands and thrust it into his gut, black blood oozed from the guards wound. We left the horse ground tied near the gate Leif picked up the spear, I picked up the sword from the other guard, and we crept into the mine.

Leif indicated the guard barracks, and we barricaded the door. It wouldn’t last too long before someone would need to relieve themselves but it would slow the rest of the guards down after that. The gate around the slave barracks, and the mine proper was next. We had to hurry, the gate was barred from the outside, there was no lock, Leif, and I unbarred it, and slipped into the slave barracks.

The slave barracks was a squaller, littered with shovels, refuse, in one corner there was an older slave that was coughing up blood. In a salt mine, the powdered salt enters the lungs and desiccates them slowly; like salting a brisket, or a roast for storage. The slaves were worked to exhaustion, and barely fed, they slept heavily as we entered their barracks.

I found, one of the legionaries from the second cohort, a man named Decimus. He was a good soldier, capable fighter, and efficient in his tasks. I gripped his shoulder, and shook him, he woke with a start but recognised Leif, and I. It took him moments to shake off the fog of sleep. I put my finger to my lips, shushed him I said “we, going to free you, start waking the others.” He nodded, and I handed Decimus the sword, a sica used to cut around shields. I asked him “where do they keep their weapons?”

Decimus replied “in the guard barracks.” I mentally groaned, that was something I should have thought off. At about that time I heard the beginnings of the guards becoming awoken, and trying to kick down the door through the barricade Leif and I put up. “I should have thought of that. Hurry Decimus, pass the word to wake up the other legionnaires, and meet Leif, and I at the gate.” I indicated the gate separating the slaves and guards.

Leif and I began makinging a makeshift fortification outside of the gate, we toppled over a two wheeled cart, piled barrels, and what ever else we could find on top of that. It is a frightening experience, knowing that you are outnumbered by a capable group of people wanting to kill you. The guards were not bandits looking for an easy robbery, they were trained either as soldiers, or as mercenaries. Soon we would have numbers on our side in the form of slaves, half starved,unarmed, and exhausted slaves.

Decimus arrived, and reported that any one that had been in our legion, and anyone else that had been trained to fight had started waking up. I nodded, and ran through my options. “That’s great” I replied, at least we would have numbers on our side for a while “Hand out shovels, picks, maddocks, anything that can be used as a weapon. To any slave not a trained soldier have them gather rocks and get ready to throw them at the guards. Have someone start pulling the doors off their hinges. We’re going to fight in a testudo formation. Sort of.” The testudo formation was a military formation where shields, in this case barracks doors were raised above the soldiers heads to protect them from arrows, and rocks.

I heard the first splintering, of the guard barracks door, we had no time to escape, the slaves needed time to wake up and move, and if we didn’t fight, and kill all of the guards they would have hunted us down like dogs. The best, most strategic place to fight was where we were at. Decimus returned with a second legionnaire slave, I never caught his name, and i started positioning soldiers. The fortification created two narrow points of entry that could easily be defended by a small number of soldiers. I positioned Decimus, and the other legionnaire armed with the gladius I gave Leif on the right entrance, while Leif with his spear, and I with my khopesh took the left.

The guard broke through the barricade, armed and armored, two of which climbed to the top of the walls, recovered the bows left there and began shooting at us. “Get those doors out here now!” I ordered as the rest of the guards marched in tandem at us. “Hold your positions here!” I ordered, as it was supremely easier to fight a defensive battle than an offensive one. An arrow whizzed by my head, and another one embedded itself into a barrel. The doors came above my head, and I could hear the thwack of the guards arrows on the door. The guards closed in on us, and weapons clashed against weapons as the fight began in earnest.

Leif was first to draw the guards blood by thrusting his hasta into the shoulder of the nearest one. I cut his hand off with my khopesh and slashed at another on. From the sounds behind me I could hear that Decimus, and his partner were faring just as well. After the first attack the guards retreated back to reposition. I took the opportunity to press my advantage ordering “form up! Put a door in front of us, the other above! Leif, Decimus, the third legionnaire and I stepped out with a fifth unarmed legionnaire in the middle holding the door horizontally as a makeshift shield. Several other slaves and legionnaire’s held up the second door to defend against the arrows. We charged the guards under a volley of thrown stones, and crashed into the guards. The effort of five people all pushing one shield had a desired effect of bowling over the guards. When they were knocked down, they were easily dispatched, the walls were swarmed by slaves and legionnaires, and the last two guards were killed with bare hands, and stones. The fight was over in a matter of minutes, all though it felt like hours since the gates opened. But all told it only took minutes.

The feeling of fight, or flight started draining from me, it started draining from all of us. I started to laugh, followed by Leif and the rest, I was laughing uncontrollably with a very tight feeling in my stomach. Nothing was funny, unarmed slaves were killed by arrows, and blades on the wall, a lot of them were half starved, but we all started to laugh. Eventually though one, by one we all quit again, and gasped for air.

There were things that needed to be done, “Gather everyone near the the guards barracks.” I told Leif and Decimus. To two other legionnaires I ordered “Strip the guards, place all their gear in the guards barracks.” I had to prioritize, there were ten guards worth of equipment, and when everyone was gathered together there was fifty five slaves including former members of the legion I was in, fifty seven including Leif, I. When everyone was gathered together I climbed the wall, and thought about what I was going to say. “Leif, Decimus, find armor that fits.” I pointed at the legionnaires that participated in the wall charge. “You all are next, find weapons, and armor that suit you, and hurry back.” When they came back I finally had a sense of what I was going to say.

“In one hour we are leaving this mine! We will not be coming back. Raid the guards barracks, slave barracks, and all other buildings. Find as many supplies as you can, the order preference will go as follows. Legionnaires, volunteers that’ll go with us, and finally anyone not coming with us. We’re going north back to the Empire, we will be marching as hard as we can in the hopes of meeting with any Imperial patrol or legion, or getting so far into friendly territory that it will discourage any pursuit.”

One of the slaves shouted “Who put you in charge?!”

A legionnaire rebuked the slave “He just risked his life in freeing us!” The rest of the remainder of the legion shouted in support of the rebuke.

The slave backed down, and within the hour everyone in the group had at-least a blanket. There were also two other horses which I had Leif, and Decimus ride, and most had a better clothing than what they had on an hour ago. There was just enough time to make swift decisions “We’re about to go, every one who is going north with us form up outside of the mine. Everyone else, wait inside the walls until we’re out of sight and leave on your own accord. I will not take responsibility for what happens after we leave.”

Of the fifty seven of us thirty five, formed up to march back north, twenty legionnaires including Decimus, thirteen untrained slaves, Leif, and myself. Our aim was to make twenty miles by sundown, and as the first rays of the sun broke over the horizon I gave the order of “Forward march!”

Time was on our side for now, in spite of being worked to exhaustion most everyone marching north had a good night’s sleep before we got started, and there was something in their bellies, and it would be several hours still before anyone would find a delivery out of place, if not a day or two, depending when the owner of the mine showed up. But if nothing else we had several hours to get as far away from the mine as we could.

We left the mine just as the sun started coming up, and we kept moving at a pace, faster than a walk but slower than a jog, and it wasn’t until the sun was at its peak that we made our first stop. “All right, let’s take a rest for one hour” I ordered, there was a collective sigh as we sat our meager belongings down near a spring. I looked out over the group, mostly legionnaires and tried to gage their thoughts. The high that everyone had felt when we first left the mine had fallen away, and there was the look of fear, and worry. I couldn’t argue with their feelings, technically we were all fugitive slaves, a crime punishable by death by scourging, both here in the land of P’Tah, and in the Empire. Furthermore, we did just fight a battle against the land of P’Tah which was punishable by death by crucifixion. One good thing was they couldn’t execute us twice.

One of the men that volunteered to come with us was sitting on a rock rubbing his foot, and picking at it. He was dark skinned, darker than the natives of P’Tah, he was of the same people that attacked the first legion so long ago. I bore him, nor his people no grudge, “let me see your foot” I said as I nealt down to examine the soles of his feet. There was something lodged into his foot, it had festered, and the greyish black dried skin of his feet was bright red. “How long has your foot been hurting?” I asked adjusting his foot to get a better look at what was causing so much trouble.

The man smiled bright white teeth, that contrasted with his midnight black skin, and he replied “a month, and two weeks.” He grimaced as I touched the sore spot, I grimaced empathically with him “I am going to cut your foot open, and take out what’s hurting it. It’s going to hurt tremendously, but it will feel better after.” I rolled up a piece of cloth, and handed it to him “Put that in your mouth and bite down hard, it’ll help you get through this. As soon as he bit into the cloth I cut, without any empathy into the sole of his foot following the dark line of what ever was lodged into his foot. White pus, flowed from the cut followed by dark red blood. Almost immediately I could see the redness of his skin dissipating. The cut was almost two inches across his foot. What came out was a sand spike longer than the cut, and about as big around as a nail. I staunched the bleeding as best I could and wrapped his foot in gause. The man visibly relaxed like a candle melting. The pain of the wound I cut, being less than the festering sand spike already. “For the next few days you’ll ride my horse.”

The man thanked me and we drank water together as we rested, and I asked him “So, what is your name? Where do you come from?”

He gingerly touched the sole of his foot before replying “I am called Yonas, and I am from the land called Iberia. It is to the south, and west of P’Tah.”

I nodded, it was good information I had never heard the name of his land before, and now I knew it. It was the land of Iberia, the people there used hide shields, clubs, and short spears to fight with. I would ask him more question later on, but I couldn’t stay too long with any one person. I made the rounds, checking on legionnaire, and volunteer alike. Fear, and worry subsided for the moment as we rested and drank water. For me, my worries were bigger, I had to keep this rabble fed, I also had to somehow get them to start functioning as a unit. That was a must if we were going to survive the trek back to Fort Gaius without a lot of infighting, or out right mutiny.

The hour was almost up, and I rose to my feet, and told the group “drink until you can not hold another drop in your bellies, then take a piss, and drink again. Our next watering hole is nearly two days away. Fill up your water skins, and don’t drink more than half your water by this time tomorrow.” I drank my fill, and then refilled like the rest of the group, and we departed.

We were taking a longer route trying to avoid the caravan road. It provided the benefits, it avoided most patrols, and gave us the chance of encountering, wild sheep, antelope, ibex, and possibly bandits which could best add to our supplies. The drawback was that is was incredibly slow going, and avoided more established outposts, and watering holes.

There was a distinct separation of the two groups, the former slaves were clustered in the back of the formation without any rhyme or reason to their organization. In front of them were the remains of the legion. This would not do, if we were attacked like this the former slaves would be the first to be picked off, creating an opening in our meager defences. I halted the group, and paired the former slaves with a legionnaire. It was less efficient in the short term, but hopefully in the long term it would work out better for the entire group.

The day past, the group grew tired, thirsty, hungry, and grumpy. The next day the group started to grow despondent. Halting the group I called out “anyone with a bow, or sling step forward.“ Three men stepped forward, and I instructed them, “About a day’s march from here there is a date palm oasis. You three traveling light should make it there in a few hours. Go there, and if there are any animals, kill them, take the choice cuts for your selves but prepare the rest for the group. If there are any people there, stay out of sight and send a messenger back. Do not fight them.”

The thirty five of us pressed on as best we could we were tired, hungry, and worst of all thirsty. My hope was that the oasis was empty, the last thing we needed right now was a battle, it would have broken us. Each step we took was a step towards possible disaster, if it was some random patrol, and we fought them off we might win, and attract unwanted attention from the closest garrison; if it was a shepherd, things would be even worse as fugitives, and innocent bystanders don’t mix well, and the consequences of the mix would cause even more problems.

So my hope was that the oasis was empty, and the scouts I sent forward were cleaning some animals for the group. I didn’t want to consider this group a centuria yet because we weren’t cohesive. So it was a group, the oasis came into sight, and my hopes were rewarded, was an ibex hanging in a date palm, and two more sheep on the ground being cleaned by the water of the oasis. A fine haul and would give, the groupe nearly six pounds of meat per person, and the dates were ripe.

It was time to take close consideration of the group, I had been keeping an eye on them since we left the mine of course, but we haven’t had time to get an assessment of the group as a whole. I knew the legionnaires were out of practice but as soon as they gripped a sword their bodies would remember what to do. The thirteen former slaves on the other hand were a mixed bag. My first stop on this task was Yonas, he was recline against a date palm eating a handful of picked dates. As I approached him I asked him “How’s the horse?” I would ask about his foot later but it was a good start to a conversation.

He smiled with those bright white teeth, “he is strong, he misses you!” he said before popping a date into his mouth.

I crossed my legs and sat down in front of him, picked up a date and said “I found him half starved a few weeks ago. He’s grateful that I feed him. Can I ask, what did you do before you were a slave?”

Yonas chuckled “My people were enslaved by P’Tah generations ago, the royal line has been glorified hostages since they conquered my people. But there are slaves, and then there are slaves. Before I was sold to the mine I was a goat farmer, not a very good one.”

I nodded mentally “so, not all of your people fight for P’Tah?”

Yonas shook his head “No, most of us are, but some like me choose to farm goats, sheep, and wheat for my people, at a major tax by P’Tah.”

I stored the information for later, I may never use the information but one never knew and asked “Have you fought?”

Yonas shook his head “No, my family were farmers not fighters.”

I smiled and asked “Then why did you come with us?”

Yonas laughed hard enough that it made his eyes crease at the corners “Because I was not a good goat farmer, or salt miner. I thought it was time to try a new profession.”

I nodded and said “Let me see your foot.”

Yonas let me see his foot, the burning redness was gone, and the cut itself had shallowed. There was no bleeding and very little puss oozing out of the wound, “tomorrow, you walk.” I ordered “as you say my horse misses me.”

I made similar stops to all of the former slaves, and a good portion of the legionnaires asking them about themselves, their fighting history and so on. Three had been former soldiers for P’Tah, or Khart, others were farmers, bricklayers, and petty criminals in their pasts. It didn’t matter really aside from their ability to handle a weapon, their present was at this oasis, and beyond that Fort Gaius. Of the thirteen slaves, four including Yonas were from Khart, another six were from Terah, a land east of P’Tah, whose people worshiped a carpenter God, and the last three were of the land of P’Tah.

Of the thirty five people in the group, twenty three were armed with mining equipment, picks, hammers, and shovels, the rest of us had a weapons. “All right, legionnaires pair up, and spar for the next hour. Volunteers, come with me.” I ordered before gathering the eleven other legionnaires that had a weapon taken from the mine’s guards, and we started training the volunteers.

The training was very informal, we had limited weapons, and traded them amongst the volunteers. We used palm fronds as analogues for shields, sticks for swords, and spears. The lesson was an easy one, the volunteers got used to body positions, weight of the weapons, and they got practice with shielding even if they didn’t have one yet. Most importantly, the volunteers were taught on the three different kinds of wounds. “Yonas, step to the middle” I said, when he obeyed I had him raise his arms, and lift his chin in a kind of sun god like stance, and instructed. “A weapon’s purpose is to kill your enemy, the person who is trying to kill you. IF you are more efficient with this act than your enemy, your odds of survival go up.” I picked up a branch “So to kill your enemy you must know where to strike.”

I pointed the stick at Yonas heart, clavicle, and lungs “for a quick kill aim for these areas.” I would have taken the time to explain why, but it was enough to just understand where to strike. I touched Yonas’ inner thigh, sides of his neck, throat, and liver, Yonas giggled “if you can not get to a quick kill because of armor, or your enemies skill go for the slow kill. With the slow kill your enemy still has plenty of time to kill you before dying. They’ll die but it’ll take some time for them to bleed out.” Lastly I pointed to Yonas; outer thighs, biceps, armpits, heel’s and abdomen “You should aim for these last. These will cripple your enemy, it makes them less able to fight, that can make your enemy more desperate, and more dangerous. Your best strategy if you have to cripple your enemy is to cripple them, then immediately go for the quickest kill you can.”

After the informal training, I ordered half the group to roast the six pounds of meat they were issued, and the other half I ordered to pick dates. We ate, drank our fill, filled our water skins, and prepared for the next morning. Every several miles north cooled the air, but even now three days away from the mine the heat was still at the edge of sweltering.

The next morning we started before dawn, as a precaution I had sent out the two archers, and slinger as scouts. I looked at the group, there was more cohesion, the volunteers, and legionnaires had started talking with one another. Yonas had taken something of a leadership role for the volunteers and walked at their head, Decimus took the same role for the legionnaires, both followed the lead of Leif, and myself.

They told jokes, exchanged stories, best of all was when the legionnaires began giving the volunteers tips and advice. The volunteers, were a hardy sort, the years of toil had made their hands tough, and their backs strong, it would take minimal training to turn them into disciplined soldiers. This long march toward the Empire’s border had began to untie the two groups into one.

It was about mid-morning when the scouts returned, their faces red with heat, and their bodies coated in sweat. “We’ve been discovered!” the lead scout exclaimed on his approach. He gasped for air as I calmed him down, and asked “what do you mean we’ve been discovered?”

The scout took a deep breath and elaborated “About two miles from here, we found a small watering hole, we started drinking from it, when scouts from a P’Tah patrol stumbled on us. We got one of them but the other two got away.” The scout went on to explain where they had encountered the scouts, and the probability that the entire patrol would find us.

I asked one of the P’Tah volunteers “How many men to a patrol?”

The former P’Tah soldier plucked at his beard, and answered “I would say around forty, thirty nine Aegean mercenaries lead by a P’Tah captain.”

I furrowed my brow a moment “Aegean mercenaries?”

The P’Tah volunteer nodded “P’Tah has never had it’s own standing army, originally the natural barriers ensured that no one would invade us. Then when we were first invaded we had to conscript from the various cities, and higher mercenaries, over time we incorporated more, and more mercenaries into our army to the point where they have became the backbone of our military. P’Tah natives formed the officers, and the Khart are P’Tah’s line breakers, and shock troopers.”

I nodded at the information, it was more than what the Empire had, and it gave me a good idea of how P’Tah’s military worked, in fact it was a very detailed description on how P’Tah worked. I also had one immediately useful piece of information, our odds were near even. Even so, there were other factors, we were armed mostly with mining equipment, and few of us were armored. The odds were against us, but if we were able to strike on our terms, and with surprise we had a chance at winning. It was a better idea than trying to run to the point of exhaustion, and then get slaughtered by the patrol, or the entire garrison.

I looked around the area that the group had rested in, we were in the bottom of a small valley as we were trying to stay out of sight, on one side was a cliff face, no sheer but close enough to make getting to the top difficult especially when being chased by soldiers, but if we pressed our flank to it, they couldn’t overrun it. The other side of the valley was more of a gentle slope into the valley, if the patrol could be lead into the valley from the direction we want we catch them between two fires. “Start a fire” I said, “make it smoke, and let it billow. Let the patrol know where we’re at.”

I scratched my chin, and thought a moment “We’ll split up into two groups. One third will stay here I will lead them. The other two thirds will leave and find an out of sight place nearby. Yonas will take my horse, once you hear the fight start, attack the patrols rear. Hurry go now, whoever is staying eat, and rest I figure we have a short time before the patrol shows up.” There was a pit in my gut, if things went absolutely wrong we’d all be killed, if it went right, odds were the group would be smaller. With us resting, and the patrol having to trudge toward us, that would give us an advantage in stamina, and the two thirds portion flanking the patrol will give us the advantage of surprise. The sound of the patrol’s armor, shields and weapons rattling before we heard them.

“Start forming up, put our flank against the wall.” I ordered as I rubbed my hands with sand. The eleven of us put our flank against the wall in an angle, each member of the group being one step behind the last, forcing the patrol to face us with their backs against the direction the two thirds group would be coming. They topped the crest of the slope and I got a good look at soldiers that made up the patrol. The aegeans carried a spatha, a hoplon round shield, and were armored in scale circus. The captain, had an ornate helmet, but wore the same armor as the Aegeans, his shield was of a figure eight pattern, and he carried an axe.

We stood defiant as we waited for the patrol to form up, “ready weapons!” I ordered loud enough for the entire valley to hear. The patrol began to laugh at us this made me smile, there was some hubris to the patrol, and who could blame them we were outnumbered nearly three to one, we looked like a band of escaped slaves because a portion of us were, and we were poorly armed. I shouted “Charge!” and we charged, the patrol drew their swords as we started to cross the expanse between our two groups. When we were halfway across the gulf they rested their blades on the top of their shields. Then there was this heavy clanking, thumping cacophony as our mining equipment hammered their shield wall. There was the anguished cry of someone getting ran through. My gut got tight again.

There was no time to dwell on who had died, in that indeterminant pause the sound of galloping hooves broke the momentary silence, followed by the patrols own anguished screams, as Leif, Decimus, and Yonas road through the rear lines of the patrol followed by the rest of the group. Leif was the man to draw first blood skewering an Aegean with his hasta. When the larger portion of the two groups crashed into the patrol, and their lines broke I yelled “Push!”

There were sounds of violence in every direction, screams of pain, shouts of victory, the crash of blade on shield. I focused on the captain, a P’Tah, he had dark streaks under his almond eyes, and wore a blue pendant. I closed the gap between us, and in spite all of his accoutrements accepted my nonverbal challenge. He hefted his axe, a solid metal head on a shaft made of oak, and swung it over his head in an attempt to end the fight quickly.

I stepped to one side and parried the blow with my khopesh, and reposted. My strike crashed on the captain’s shield, the crook of the khopesh caught on its lip and I pulled the captain off balance.

I turned and rolled my wrist to make a downward slash at his back, but the captain pivoted on the ball of his foot, and thrusted his axe. The axe collided on my lorica, causing me to stumble back, he followed up by back handing me with his shield. The collision crashed on the shoulder pauldron of my lorica forcing my sword arm, and khopesh down. I slashed at his open leg, and he raised his foot, and his grieve took the damage.

The captain stepped back with his damaged grieve, and threw an uppercut with his axe, while at the same time he brought his shield up to defend against my next potential attack. The axe wooshed passed my head as leaned back dodging the attack. I pressed my attack by kicking up a cloud of sand, and rocks portions of the cloud sprayed his face.

When the captain raised his arm to shield his eyes I, hooked the crook of my khopesh on the lower part of his shield, and pulled, and thrust. My khopesh found purchase in the captain’s knee, and he shouted in pain bringing his axe down in a wild swing. I step around his attack, and swung at his sword arm cutting his bicep through to the bone. The captain’s axe fell to the ground, and his arm dangled dead at his side. I raised my khopesh to thrust it into his throat when he shouted “WAIT!”

The patrol captains eyes were wide, his face was turning pale, and he was out of breath as he dropped his shield and said “Wait, spare me, I’m useless in a fight now, and our patrol wasn’t looking for you. Let us go and we’ll leave you alone!” The Aegeans looked at their captain in disgust as they had a warriors philosophy of “either with your shield or on it.” Blood was flowing from his arm at an alarming rate, and I wasn’t sure if he was aware of it.

“You’re going to die soon anyway.” I told him matter of factly.

“Spare my men.” He begged.

“Why? We won this skirmish, and you don’t have many men left. Give me a reason, why were you out here?” I asked, I was patient he was dieing, and as soon as he did the Aegeans would likely rally, or at least try to.

The captain looked at his arm, and his men, “our spies in the north east reported an Imperial legion marching over the caravan road. Our patrol was sent to confirm this. We thought you were a part of the legion.” I smiled and breathed a sigh of relief, it might have been providence but I was happy. I was really happy, to be back into the safety, and company of my countrymen, a well supplied army of my country men was a dream of mine I had for a long time, ever since I woke up in Abasi’s tent.

“Captain,” I said “I will spare your men on one condition, and honestly you don’t have room to negotiate. If your men surrender their armor, shields, and weapons, they’ll be free to go.” He nodded, and grunted the order. The Aegeans were reluctant to do it but eventually my men were properly armored. There were five Aegeans, and the P’Tah captain with a tourniquet around his arm left out of the forty men that attacked us. Then I took a look at my men.

In war, people die, it doesn’t matter rather the war is for expansion of the empire, to defend one’s homeland, or for the glory of the Emperor people die. It is a horrible, terrible fact, but people die, and their unfortunate deaths are necessary, not for the Emperor, but for the citizens of the Empire, and not for a General, but for the man on your left, and right, It is as simple as that, or at least it is for me. The politicians are the ones that made war not simple.

Of the thirty five men that left the mine, there were twenty seven that were left. When we were finished burying our dead we left. We now had limited time, the Aegeans would report back to their garrison, and that would bring the entire three thousand Aegean mercenaries, five hundred Khart warriors, and five hundred P’Tah cavalry men our way and toward the Imperial Legion, and us.

Time was no longer on our side, we had a head start and a long one but that would close soon. Our one boon was that the Imperial Legion was heading toward us. I urged the group on to something closer to a forced march. We took to the caravan road keeping out of sight, and out of mind was no longer going to work. We now had to make every minute count, the hours ticked away. That night, we made more distance than we had any other day since we left the mine. I wondered how close the Legion was, I also worried about how close the P’Tah forces were.

That night I saw the glow of campfires in the direction that the Legion was coming from. I breathed a sigh of relief. After the kind of constant nagging worry that I was feeling all through the march from the salt mine I actually felt like a heavy load was lifted off his shoulders. I started cleaning my armor by fire light. I had no lamp oil so I used sad to polish the plates of my lorica segmentata to a burnished version of polished steel.

I was expecting a Legion scouting party to show up that evening, and sure enough the light of our own fires attracted the attention of such a scouting party. Soon after that our group was approached by a patrol of Legionnaires. We did not draw our weapons, in fact most of us sat around the camp fires when the Centurion leading the patrol entered our camp, and asked “Who’s in charge here?”

I stood up and replied “I am, I’m Lucas Victus, third centuria, fourth cohort, first legion to retake Fort Commodus”

The Centurion looked surprised at my introduction, he could tell that I was an Imperial citizen or a least from imperial stock. My armor still fit me and with it maintained I looked like a soldier, which further supported the fact that I was a soldier. He grasped my forearm, greeted me like a comrade, and introduced himself as Pontius. After the pleasantries I said “I need to speak with your general as soon a possible.”

Pontius blinked a few times, and asked “what for?”

“Your legion is about to march into an ambush” I said without beating around the bush.

The centurion canted his head, and asked “How do you know this?”

I explained in a short version the circumstances over my groups previous battle, the explanation the P’Tah captain gave me, and how my group moved to intercept the legion. The Centurion gave orders to his men, “Patrol! Escort Lucas’ men to the Legion's camp. I will take Lucas, and his second to speak with the General on horseback.” I on my roan horse, Leif on the dunn he took from the mine galloped to the Legion’s camp.

The camp, was fortified, walls, and barricades had been made by earthworks, that was surrounded by a ditch. Inside tents were in even rows, on either side of a waste ditch, which lead out of the camp. At the far endo the the uniform rows of tents was a larger tent belonging to the General on the left of that was where the horses were stabled, on the right was another larger tent. For all of its size the imperial camp did not waste an inch of space. As soon as the horses were stabled I was directed into the General’s tent and told to wait there.

I looked about the General’s tent, it was weather worn, and adorned with very few accoutrements, a cot in one corner, a folding desk for the obscene amount of paperwork a general had to put up with, and an armor rack. The generals lorica was battle worn, and weathered, and aside from a trunk there was little else. I started to compare this general’s belongings to General Caius’ whose belongings, a lot of frivolous things, too many decorations, and there was always the feeling of theatrics, or costume to them.

The flap of the tent opened, and the General stepped in, and asked “so, I’m marching the Legion into a trap?”

I snapped to attention, and snapped him a salute, and sized him up, he was maybe an inch taller than I was, but carried himself as if he were fifteen feet tall. His hair was dark brown, with red tinges streaking through, on his left arm he wore an intricate tattoo made of the same blue as Leif’s people. He had a broad chest, and the look of battle hardened, but not battle worn.

“General sir! Yes you are.” He indicated a log turned upright, and ordered “sit, tell me about this ambush. Where it’s going to be, how many men in the ambush, and most importantly how do you know about it” as he handed me a map of the region.

I sat down, gave an approximate position on the map where I believed an ambush would be met, and gave me explanation. “General sir, I believe that an ambush will be encountered here. This is the approximate location where my legion was ambushed, and it is within a few days march from Fort Commodus. Further as places to ambush a legion, it’s perfect bottle necking us into narrow ranks, and making any maneuver difficult. Lastly the sun passes in such a way that an ambush in the late evening will have the legion fighting the sun.”

I paused letting the General absorb the information before continuing “Rather or not there is an ambush there, do understand that an attack is coming, and the legions attack is known by spies. The force that will attack you, will be one of two equaling forces garrisoned at Fort Commodus. The force will consist of three thousand Aegean mercenaries, five hundred Khart warriors, and five hundred P’Tah cavalry men. If there is a P’Tah legat he’ll be in a war chariot. The attack will be initiated in stages. First the Khart warriors will charge the ranks, flanking either side of the cohorts, before hitting the middle, they have been known to spit poison into their enemies eyes, blinding them. They are armed with a club made of a hardwood handle, and stone head, and a strange shield made of cowhide, and bent hardwood.”

I took a breath once again letting the General take in what I had said, once he had indicated that he was ready for more information I continued “once the Khart have softened up the legion, the Aegean’s will commence the attack in full force, making every effort to break through our flank, or if the Khart manage to soften up a hole in the cohort. Will try to push through there, and break down our flank. They’re armed with scaled cuirass, hoplon, and a spatha, their rear ranks are armed with bows as well, and I should mention right now most of my men are now armed in a similar fashion.”

The General nodded making a special note, before letting me press on “Finally, when the legion is committed, the cavalry will attack its flank. During all this, chariots will rain arrows and spears into the ranks on the move.The P’Tah forces are normally armed in either a leather or scaled cuirass, a figure eight shield, and either an axe or a khopesh, a sword like this” I withdrew my khopesh, and let the General inspect it. After the general wrote all of the information down, and returned my sword he asked “Now how have you came upon all of this information?”

I nodded and answered “That is a fair question, for quite sometime, after The First Legion was slaughtered by the P’Tah ambush I was a slave to a shepherd, and had often visited Fort Commodus as part of the duties as a slave. I had the chance to ask questions, with the forts officials, garrison captains, and the soldiers. I sometimes got answers, I sometimes got kicked. Either way no one cares about a slave, so I was able to gain a lot of information to use one day.”

The General stood up and said “Thank you, sir. You, and your men can return to the Empire with your heads held high.” The General was about to let me out of the tent when I said “General Sir. Don’t send me away.”

He paused and looked at me with a strange combination of both anger, and amusement at my defiance, and asked “Why?” He indulged me.

I responded “I swore an oath, that I would retake Fort Commodus, and serve the Empire. If I return to the Empire without doing so I will have failed my duty.”

The General’s features changed to something more amiable he asked “What’s your name?” remaining standing.

“I’m Lucas Victus, third centuria, fourth cohort, first legion to retake Fort Commodus.” He grabbed my forearm in greeting “I am General Cicero Virilus Bracca. Leader of the Second Legion to retake Fort Commodus, and any man with that kind of loyalty, and knowledge about the area would be a valuable asset to the Legion. How many me have you been leading?”

I answered “Twenty six, eighteen legionnaires, seven volunteers who were slaves, and my friend. There were thirty four when I left the mine.”

The General nodded and said “Your men are welcome to my camp tonight, and I don’t mind attaching you and your men to my legion. We’ll get them taken care of in the morning.” With that he opened the tent flap, and we stepped out into the camp in time to see my men, and the patrol return.

The group that I lead began to slowly integrate with the Legion; the former Legionnaires found themselves at home inside the camp, the volunteers shied away from the main group, but ate at the food offered near the camp fires. They didn’t have tents, but they were behind a wall, the group was protected better than they have for a very long time. I could actually relax, I was invited to a camp fire where beef was being roasted, and a bottle of wine, real wine made of grapes was being passed around.

General Cicero was was sitting at the fire, he was the one passing around bottles, in spite of his position as a general was the kind that was respected by his soldiers. He involved himself in their lives, he didn’t remain separated, he was one of them. Again I had to contrast this by General Caius, who stayed in his tent remaining attended by the few servants that he brought along with him, having remained separated from his soldiers. General Caius’ soldiers had no respect from his men, and they only followed him out of fear of punishment.

The next morning, after the camp was broke down, and before the Legion began its march General called the Legion to attention. “As you may know, we had guests arrive last night. They are our compatriots, most of them former Legionnaires from the first Legion to retake Fort Commodus. They have knowledge of the area, and experience fighting, the forces we will meet. I have decided to attach them, to the Legion as an auxilia, under the command of Centurion Lucas Victus step forward.”

Now that caught me off guard, I hadn’t thought myself as anything more than a soldier trying to accomplish a task. After some encouragement, I stepped to the front of the legion, where General Cicero was standing. Once arrived he said loud enough for all to hear “Under the authority given to me by the Emperor Atticus the Third I am promoting you to Centurion Auxilia. Your post will be a part of the second cohort, and your command will consist of the men you brought into the camp, and fifty more men I will assign to you.”

I was given a galea, that was crested front to back with red horsehair, which was tailed long enough to touch the top of my shoulder blades, this was notable as a typical legionnaires galea had no crest. I was also given a red tunic, red tunics in the Imperial Legion indicated leadership roles.

I was given time to change into the new uniform before the Legion marched toward Fort Commodus. When I stepped back in front of the Legion they cheered, and General Cicero indicated my full centura. Twenty six men I rescued from the mine, that after the trip from the mine, nightly training, and the skirmish with the P’Tah patrol had became loyal to me. The rest were men loyal to General Caius, and would follow my lead because they were told to. As I approached my horse Leif complimented “you look good in red” I thanked him and mounted up. Not long after General Cicero ordered the march
to begin.

As we marched back toward Fort Commodus the General made his rounds, keeping the Legion in order, and keeping tabs on his men through the various centurions. Slowing his horse near mine he asked “So, what are your thoughts?”

I raised my eyebrow and answered “currently, I am thinking that my entire second rank should be armed with hasta as soon as they can.”

The General canted his head and asked “for what purpose?”

I worked the horse to match The General’s pace and answered “First, it’s a nasty surprise for enemy cavalry. Second the hasta can bypass the first rank, and attack the enemy along with the first rank.”

General Cicero nodded “you being a Centurion Auxilia have some freedom on how you run your centuria. Your strategy is sound, though it may hamper your maneuverability in tighter spaces. I’m going to allow it, if it proves ineffective I’ll change it however.”

I nodded in understanding, and the General asked “what are your thoughts about General Caius? You’ve had time to think about his actions.”

I wiped sweat from below my galea, I had forgotten how hot those things could get, and looked at the General “speaking honestly General Sir, he was an idiot, and a coward. He ordered a forced march every day guaranteeing our exhaustion when we were ambushed. When the ambush did happen, he froze, and the tribunes, and centurions had to take command losing any cohesion as a large unit. Finally when our lines broke, General Caius was the first to run, he didn’t call a retreat he ran away from the battle, sword, and shield dropped in the sand. The P’Tah cavalry caught up to him in short order, and killed him outright, he left the tribunes, and centurions to be crucified.”

General Cicero’s face paled, and said “That is very unfortunate, I’m not sure if you know this but General Caius was the Emperor’s son, and after the first legion was declared lost he ordered the formation of the second legion.”

I nodded but asked “did he know that his son was killed?”

The General shook his head “I do not know, but I believe he suspected.”

I simply replied “The Emperor has resources every where, I would not doubt that he knows about his son already.”

General Cicero nodded in agreement “I agree. I have to check up on the other cohorts but is there anything else your centuria may need?”

I shook my head to the negative, and he galloped his horse off to the next tribune.

The Legion marched on, the places were familiar from the first time a legion I was in passed them. I also knew the area by maps I studied, and talks I had with merchants during my time as a slave to Abasi. The sun rose to its apex, and the legion was showing signs of heat stress. I loped my horse to the General and said “General sir, may I suggest marching the Legion to a cave spring, it’s about four miles off of the caravan road, known by fugitives, thieves, and bandits.”

The General nodded “how certain are you of this spring?”

“Quite certain” I replied, I was confident in the information I had, but never had been there myself.

The General smiled and said “You and your men lead the way then.”

Within an hour, and a half I had lead the legion to a rock formation where a spring ran, and pulled in a rocky basin. It was dotted with a hearty scrub, a few date palms, and a small grove of fig trees. The General patted me on my back, my lorica making a soft clank as he did “Well done Centurion.” I was impressed by his ability to compartmentalize, he was friend, and battle brother to his men at night, around a campfire, or in a tavern, but when the Legion was on the march, in battle, training, or in any formal occasion he made sure to keep the comradery in check.

The Legion drank their fill, splashed cool water on their heads, they ate the dates, and figs though they were passed season. The General had us rest for an hour, refilling our water skins, casks, and barrels of water. Once we were cooled off, and rested we returned to our march toward Fort Commodus.

Marching a legion isn’t like traveling on your own, or even a large group. It takes time to get one moving, get one to stop, orders take time. A legion can stretch for nearly a mile if not properly managed, and then there were nearly a hundred men immune to combat, the stable masters, cooks, and medics. What may take a few hours for a single person to accomplish, it could take a legion a day, marching a great distance was the exception. It was the reason why the going was slow for the legion, at the rate we were marching, it was going to take two weeks to reach the fort we were supposed to retake.

Days went by, my centuria integrated well with the rest of the legion, and even better with their cohort. The second rank of the centuria, was issued hasta alongside their spatha. It was a good combination, my plan was, when we were eventually attacked by the phalanx of P’Tah soldiers my centuria would shift ranks, and defend against the cavalry charge.

The sun was nearing noon, when my strategy was tested, scouts had reported to General Bracca. Upon hearing the news he halted the Legion, and announced, “Our scouts have spotted a force of enemy soldiers, form up, we shall meet them here and spoil their plans for an ambush!”

When a legion forms up, it five thousand two hundred men form up into ten cohorts of five hundred men lead by a tribune, the first cohort was the farthest to the right, the fifth farthest to the left, the sixth cohort forms up behind the first, and the tenth behind the fifth. Behind the cohorts were the archers, and reserves, the sick, lame, and others that were not meant to fight until there was no other choice. Each cohort consisted of one hundred men or one centuria. Our Legions second cohort actually numbered six hundred men thanks to my centuria being placed among them.

From that I was a mix of emotions, I was excited, the thought of battle had woke up something almost primal in the back of my mind, the hair on my arms, and on the back of my neck rose and I had this feeling in my stomach that made me want to eat raw meat. There was also anxiety I didn’t want to get killed, and I didn’t want any of my men to die neither. Truth be told I was scared, this was the biggest battle I have been in since the First Legions ambush, this was more organized though, and I had time to actually think about what was about to happen. The feeling of fear, and sheer aggression grew to explosive proportions as the force of P’Tah soldiers came into view.

I felt my mouth start to froth as my centuria formed up behind me, we were an auxiliary of the second cohort, left of the of the first, and on the front of the legion. I HAD TO DO SOMETHING, rampant energy began welling up in my guts, I began shaking and finally it started to leak out. I shouted to the point my vocal cords felt like they were ripping, and I pounded on my shield with a drawn khopesh. My centuria! Followed suit, the cohort we belonged to followed shortly. The enemy Khart warriors were first to charge, charging against the fifth cohort.

The aegean’s, those P’Tah grown mercenaries, forming the main body of the force charged us, the second, third, and fourth cohorts under a cloud of arrows. “Testudo formation!” I shouted, and in unison my centuria’s shields raised above our heads, except for the first ranks which were used to defend our front. I was gripping my khopesh so tight that my palm was bleeding, the tribune looked at General Bracca for a signal, and when the signal was given, I shouted wildly “CHARGE!” and sprinted toward the enemy. In spite of all of our fervor, our training, and our discipline held us in formation as we in one large mass crashed like a wave into the aegeans, under the tink, tink, tink, rattle, rattle, rattle of arrows raining down on my centurias shields.

I was screaming like a wild man, my eyes wide after sword met shield. I hooked the crook of my khopesh onto my nearest enemy’s shield and ripped it from his arm, and thrust immediately into his face without mercy, or empathy. Leif had my left, and his spear found purchase into another nearby enemy soldier. We were the tip of the spear so to speak, piercing through the first rank of enemy soldiers, creating a soft spot in their phalanx. After the first thrust, or two every thing became a red haze, I remember screaming incoherently, and slashing wildly at enemy soldiers. But somewhere in my haze I must have been giving orders because as my centuria divided the phalanx, reforming, and forcing the Aegean phalanx parts into their neighboring phalanx’s. The first rank would kill, or knock down enemy soldiers; the second, and third ranks would give subsequent deathblows; and the fourth, and fifth ranks replaced any of my men who might of fallen.

I heard a horn, not a shepherd’s horn like the one I used, and not the cornu type horn we used. It was the brass horn used by the P’Tah leaders. The Aegean’s began to reform, and General Bracca, held us back. I soon saw why through a clearing red haze. The P’Tah cavalry had began their flanking charge, and somehow my centuria was going to be the first to meet the charge. “SECOND RANK! FORWARD!” I shouted hoarsely, as a the foam erupting from my mouth was tinged a very light pink. Every man with a spear stepped forward, “Hold!” I commanded, through the haze of unintelligible screaming, I grabbed a spear dropped by a fallen comrade, the P’Tah cavalry rumbled closer I could feel the footsteps of the horses shake the ground under me. At the last possible second I shouted “LOWER SPEARS!” The second rank as a unit lowered their spears and stepped on the butts. There was a tremendous shock when a horse, crashed into my spear, one that threw me to the ground with such force that I bounced. Horses screamed, men wailed, and I only hd one direction I could go forward.

There was more screaming, cries of victory, agonizing wails, shouts of every incarnation around me, from both man and beast. I remember cutting the leg of a horse, cutting the rider down with my khopesh, it sticking into my enemies flesh, and having to press my foot on his chest to remove it. I felt something his me in my side below my lorica, I thrusted, sliced, and cut for what seemed like hours, the rational part of my mind told me that it was only a few minutes but it felt so much longer. Leif always seemed to be on my left, and for a few moments I felt that it was just Leif, the enemy, and myself on the battlefield.

Then I heard the sound of the cornu horns of the legion, there was nothing else to fight. What ever was left of the P’Tah forces had retreated, I could hear some last vestiges of the battle being fought, but for me there was no one to fight. I was starting to feel whatever unfretted energy that was within me go away, when General Bracca approached me, place a hand on my shoulder, and said “We won.”

I was still coming down, and I repeated him breathlessly “We won, we won, we won.” I was still holding my khopesh with a beyond tight grip but now I was shaking “we won.”

The General patted my back and said “Calm down, put your sword away, and breath in and out slowly. We won, and we won thanks to your warnings.” I reached my khopesh behind my back trying to sheath it. It would not find the sheath! I cursed in frustration I could not sheath my sword. Finally I slipped it into my belt, and that’s when I noticed a seeping wound, reaching into it I felt something metal, and pulled out three inches of spearhead, or maybe dagger.

I was finally breathing in a more normal fashion, and I could feel just how much pain I was in. My side was aching, my hand where it had started bleeding was stinging, I had been punched in the nose making my face feel like it was going to explode, and to top it all off stopping the cavalry charge made my entire body sore. All that became muted, when I started looking to my men. Five were dead, two more were dying, and there were a handful whose lives were miserable, bleeding, and seeping wounds. Every other centuria had similar casualties, and the carnage for the other side was even worse. The desert we fought on was now sloppy, covered in blood. Puddles formed here, and there was a great stench. But the most horrifying was the sound, my men, the people I had ate with not even six hours before were in pain, I was just getting to know some of them. The youngest man in my centuria had lost his shield hand at the wrist. The oldest lost his leg at the thigh, he wouldn’t last more than a few minutes. There was was nothing I could do for any of them. I talked as much as I could to them, but eventually I began vomiting, until I dry heaved not a very good thing in the desert, and I wept for what seemed like hours.

We buried our dead in shallow graves, by the time we were finished burying them, the vultures, jackals, and hyenas had started eating the rest. We had to move on, I had to move on, people die, that is a fact of war, sometimes it’s the people under you when you are in command, and I was to whatever end that lead.

I drank my water skin dry, I was still thirsty and my throat was sore beyond belief. I refilled my skin at a nearby cask, and drank it dry again. I had to either become cold, and dead to the world, or I had to separate my duty as a centurion, with my emotions. It would be something I would have to work out on the go. The general called for the legion to form up, we had to continue, we had a fort to retake. We started to march once again, and as we left the battlefield the miserable feeling I felt began to fade with each step.

As a centurion I had the privilege of riding a horse, and when General Bracca, did his rounds, and check up on his men I took the opportunity to ask “why did you promote me to centurion? There were more qualified legionnaires in the group I lead from the mine. Former first cohorts, and veteran legionaries and the like.”

The General nodded “I spoke with Leif, while you waited in my tent that first night. He told me about how you freed him, and the rest of the slaves. He also told me about how you lead them across the desert, finally defeating a better armed force before meeting up with us. There are legionnaires that have been in the legion longer, even those in the first cohort. But they didn’t free men, they barely knew, or lead them across the desert. For better or worse you have lead men, they respect you I couldn’t think of anyone better. Keep up the effort and you will make a fine general some day.”

I didn’t want to be a general but I thanked him for the compliment, and we continued on our way. The day’s went on, and at night I my dreams went from stress filled nightmares back to something more pleasant. It was about a night before Fort Commodus would come into view of the legion when I was summoned to General Bracca’s tent. Stepping in I saluted him, and he returned it, with him were two of his aides, and he asked me to sit down.

Taking a seat I asked “General Sir, how may I help you?”

The General took his seat, across from me, and stated “You have said that you have been to Fort Commodus several times, when you were a slave Can you give us details, so that we can plan our segie?”

I nodded, and smiled eagerly, I had been inside Fort Commodus, several times, I had watched patrols go in, and out of it on a regular basis, I even watched my sheep from knolls, and hills around the fort, and said “I have several maps of the fort in my tent, would you like me to get them?”

The General shook his head to the negative, “No thank you just what you can tell us from the top of your head. We can go over the maps, in the morning.”

My smile turned into a grin, “General Sir, Fort Commodus has a very long history. It was originally built by P’Tah, through the use of Terah slaves. Its walls are made of solid blocks of limestone about fifteen feet thick, the walls are twenty feet tall, with thirty foot tall watch towers at the four corners of the fort, with two more towers at the gate house on the north side of the fort one on either side.”

General Bracca scribbled down the information, and said absent mindedly “naturally.”

I continued on with my description, “the length, and breadth of the fort isn’t massive, six hundred, by six hundred feet. It is garrisoned, by just over a eight thousand soldiers, mostly Aegean mercenaries, P’Tah captains, and cavalry, and a small contingent of Khart warriors make up the rest. I believe that the enemy forces we faced a few days ago belonged to the garrison. Surrounding the for against the walls is a moat, it’s covered with pitch and oil making any ladder rush an unpleasant affair since they can light it off at any moment. Then farther out, is a clay brick rampart that prevents siege engines from setting up effectively, and also makes anyone within it in range of the forts archers. The fort isn’t actually that hard to take, the problem with it is that it takes long enough to take it for reinforcements to come from Kheb. However, there is a weakness, not a large one, but big enough.”

General Bracc, and his aides looked up eagerly at me expectantly, which made my mouth my mouth go dry, and I elaborated “On the east side of the fort is a hill, It hasn’t been taken down or fortified because no one see’s it as a threat, as an archer can shoot an arrow from the top of the hill, and at the best arc the arrows don’t hit much higher than halfway up the wall.”

The General’s aide asked skeptically “How is that a weakness?” The General smirked seeing where I was going with it.

I answered “If your best archer can fire into the moat from that hill, they can set the pitch, and oil on fire. It’ll burn for days, inundating the inhabitants of the fort with smoke, and heat. It’ll give us cover to set up any siege engines we may have, and prepare a ladder rush.”

General Bracc grinned “How would you feel about this, tomorrow you will lead your centuria south of the fort with all the supplies you will need to ladder rush the fort from there. My men will light the pitch, and oil off from the east, and set up a siege on the east, and north of the fort drawing their attention. I am assuming they can still see intermittently through the smoke. Then when we ladder rush, from our sides, you, and your men will do the same from the south.”

I nodded in agreement “This a good idea, I will depart with my men in the morning, after we go over the maps.” The General thanked me, and I went back to my tent to prepare myself for the coming battle.

My side was aching, the medic, an Aegean had packed my wound with boiled down horse urine, and sewed it up with horse hair. I had been given the impression that if it weren’t for the horse urine I would be suffering from a fever by now. The cut was red, and scabbed over but the redness was not very far away from where the cut was. It felt more irritated rather than infected.

My centuria had parted company with the rest of the legion and started working our way toward the fort in a roundabout way to attack the opposite end of the fort the rest of the legion was going to attack. I looked over my centuria, they had grim, determined faces, and they knew that our goal was drawing near. The siege would begin in the next day or two, the signal for our attack would be when the smoke of the moats fire dissipated.

I was focused on what I had to do, my first task was to lead my centuria, eighty soldiers, and twenty secondaries to the other side of the fort without alerting the P’Tah forces. My next task was to lead my men over a rampart, across the field carrying ladders, and over a the moat and wall into a meat grinder. The thing about it a legion, and especially one that is going to lay siege to a fortress is that there are no surprise attacks; there is just showing up, and even if things go right doing absolutely nothing for weeks on end, if not longer. If things went wrong reinforcements from Kheb would show up a few days later routing the Legion. What the ladder rush would hopefully do, was to end the siege within a day or two after we got there.

I lead the centuria through the old shepherd paths, and canyons that I had learned during my time as a slave. About half a day out from our position we saw the black smoke start bellowing from the fortress; the archers must have done their job, and set off the pitch, and oil in the moat. The smoke rose for miles in the sky, and a roar could be heard from even from where we were. All eyes would be on the spectacle.

We pressed on, I had the last two ranks of my centuria arm themselves with bows, if we were going to be storming a fortress, we would have to fire into the fortress from the wall, or at least that was the plan. We reached our position, scaled the rampart, and watched the moat burn. The flames were red orange, and rose taller than the Forts walls; hundreds of feet away from the fire we could feel the heat. I watched the fire, and sharpened my khopesh as the flames rose, and fell. I didn’t feel hungry, but I knew I had to eat to keep my strength up, what I really wanted though was to attack, and get the siege started, or more specifically end it. Hours went by, I drummed my feet against the sand, and glared at it, and the walls beyond. The fire needed to die down, but no amount of my will would force the fire to die any faster.

Eventually the fire died down enough to perform the ladder rush. We picked up our ladders, and charged, with our shields over our heads. Arrows rained down, and I heard once again the screams, and moans of the injured, dying and dead. I instantly felt sick, I hated it, the sound, the knowing that someone I potentially ate with an hour before dying, and the necessity of it all; but we had a job to do.

Leif was right behind me when our ladders were thrown against the wall of the Fort. I took the lead being first up the ladder, with Leif right behind me. As I climbed it was blind my shield held above me as I head the heavy thud of arrows drilling into it. I mounted the wall, and immediately bashed the nearest P’Tah archer. I drew my khopesh from my back, and slashed, the unarmored portion of his leg above the knee. Leif’s spear rushed passed my head, thrusting into the next Aegean mercenary. He nodded at me, and asked “Where do you need me.”

I nodded back stating “On my left.”

Leif took position to my left, and we started to form a shield wall. To Leif’s left another legionnaire formed up, and we had a shield wall three abreast pressing forward. Behind us formed up another shield wall lead by Decimus. More of the centuria clambered over the wall, some kneeled down, forming a wall to defend the archers which were now coming up the ladders.

The rest of the Legion began the attack shortly after we did, they concentrated on the gate with a battering ram, and on either side of the gatehouse ladders were being thrown against the forts wall. In most fights, let alone a battle you don’t remember the details, there are flash of scenes acting, and reacting, of blocking, and thrusting. Most of it is a blurr...

In the middle of the Fortress, or any settlement there is a trench dug down grade for human waste to flow out of the settlement. The one inside the Fort was filled, absolutely filled to the brim with blood, that was flowing like a creek after a spring rain. The trench was filled with the blood of Aegean, P’Tah, Khart, Imperial, Gallia, and Terah blood, fifteen hundred Imperial legionnaires were dead, or will be soon enough. Leif’s shin, thigh, and arm on his shield side. The wound on my side had reopened, I had a slash along my forearm from a glancing thrust by an enemy. I was hurting again, I was tired, the rush of energy I felt had left me. The smell of sweat, blood, vomit, human waste, and the same thing from animals.

We had won, I was physically, mentally, and emotionally drained, but we had won. Winning costs lives, but losing would have been even more expensive. As I rested against a wall, and contemplated the events leading up to this very moment, I felt contentment, I had accomplished what I was ordered to do so long ago.

Thread Title: Not For Glory
Judgment Type: Full Rubric
Participants: Jdd2035


Plot: 19/30

Story- 6/10
Overall I found your story captivating and incredibly interesting, and you weave a powerful tale together of a man who comes from very little and is determined to find his company. You keep this idea of survival at the forefront, and show how being able to fight manages to get your character to places. Themes aside, the storyline was strong and developed well, though there could have been more done with with actions having consequences later. However, this judge would to have seen some more scenes of everyday life perhaps going on, perhaps even a line of romance within the tale. What you have, however, is a very stable base to build an excellent novel from.


Setting- 7/10
You build a great backdrop of the Empire for this story, as well as P'Tah itself. It is a bold, economically sound country that is expressed through your language well. Overall you have a good ability to produce a rich setting, which is made strong with adding in small details such as, “The Empire was currently ruled by Emperor Atticus the Third, who is supposedly kept in check by a weakening Senate.” (post 1). Within Post 1 you successfully give the reader a good description of the layout of the land. More development of the individual settings, such as towns and features – even Abasi's camp - would help you build this stronger.


Pacing- 6/10
Pacing is gentle in parts and fast in others, with a change of tempo by using some shorter sentences and paragraphs. In general, though, the development of the story itself is very quick. More time with your character becoming a freed man from Abasi, when he does so in post 9, would be an example. The judge understands that you were writing this for NaNoWriMo, however, so pacing could have been rushed because of the time constraints. Overall adding more detail into the larger stretches of time, such as when Lucas is searching for all his comrades.


Character: 20/30

Communication- 6/10
In terms of communication you have Lucas speaking in a very constant, understandable tone, able to keep his calm in his words. He also is able to negotiate well with others, and you have him use dialogue (such as in post 14) in order to cleverly lie and make his way through some difficult situations. Ways that you could develop from here are experimenting with the style of words he uses – is he more formal sometimes (such as speaking to Abasi and the General) and what kind of curses might he use (for instance, when injured). These could add to character more powerfully.


Action- 6/10
Action here was very well thought out and considered. You show knowledge of the actions that a warrior might partake in, and use excellent word choice when discussing the larger actions of the scenes: “in one large mass crashed” from post 21. You also are able to write combat very well, dealing with the blows met and given in a clear, written manner. How you could improve on here is trying to define some more habitual and defining actions of your characters, such as the description of choosing to pick up the scarf, “in case of a sandstorm,” in post 10. This would help to define individual characters a little more.


Persona- 8/10
Persona is something you cover incredibly well, and it helps in writing in first person. This, of course, means you cannot successfully cover the thoughts of others, without dialogue, however, even with this disadvantage this is a definite strong point for yourself. The reader can pick up on the desires of Lucas, and is reminded throughout of his strongest want – to be back with his legion. Such posts as 21 have some good use of language to emphasise persona: “I HAD TO DO SOMETHING, rampant energy began welling up in my guts, I began shaking and finally it started to leak out.” If you spread this more evenly throughout your piece you will only get stronger in your writing.


Prose: 21/30

Mechanics- 5/10
In terms of mechanics, there were not many spelling mistakes that were obvious. However, there are some punctuation mistakes. Often when using dialogue you forget to add a comma or full stop between the action and the associated dialogue. For example in post 13: 'Then he hugged me, with a back breaking, rib crushing hug “Thank the gods! Thank you my good friend!”' there should be one of these between 'hug; and 'Thank.' There are also some minor apostrophes missing – such as post 10, where “bellies rest” should be “bellies' rest” at the end of the 's' as the rest is belonging to the bellies. Aside from this you make some good attempt at varying sentence structure.


Clarity- 8/10
Clarity is not a serious issue in your piece. You write strong and defining, even in terms of combat. The only times when it was a noticeable problem was when punctuation was missed out (please see Mechanics). Else, everything is written in a strong manner, saying what you want and urging to the point. The judge here was not confused at any moment as to who was speaking or what action was being done.


Technique- 8/10
For this section you have a clear understanding of what makes a good text. There are some powerful uses of simile (such as post 1: “he looked me over as a piece of horse flesh on sale”) as well as some onomatopoeia (post 21: “tink, tink, tink, rattle, rattle, rattle of arrows raining down on my centurias shields.”) There was also a heavy use of adjectives that worked well and added detail to the piece overall. In general the judge here thinks that you have an excellent base from which to work from and suggests that you could start experimenting more. Try using extended metaphor and personification.


Wildcard: 6/10
Wildcard here goes to writing passion. This is not something that many are able to write well into a piece, but truly is remarkable here. The tone is hopeful and strong and thank you for the read.


Final Score: 66/100

Jdd2035 receives:

3445 EXP!
305 GP!

Congratulations!

If you have any questions Jdd, you can PM me :)

Full Rubric paid for by 3 AP from jdd2035 and 2 AP from myself.