Not for Glory

[jdd2035]

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.