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.