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.