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.