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.