Constan shook his head in dismay and replied to Baltazar, “’Tis not impossible Baltazar. I’ve done it ‘meself. Why do you think we make you spend so much time swinging your Spatha at the wooden posts?”
Baltazar replied, “To get better at swinging our Spathas?”
Constan answered, “Aye, that’s part of it. Swinging your weapon at the post builds strength in your arm. If you do it enough, you’ll be able to swing your Spatha in battle for an entire day.”
Athos said, “Never mind the Spathas, let’s get back to the story.”
Constan chuckled, “First you interrupt me every time I draw breath, and now ye want to hear more? Very well. The Ironman was in quite a pickle. You see the sun had just begun its long descent from its zenith. Would he have the stamina to fight the remainder of that day?”
Constan paused dramatically until Athos asked impatiently, “Well did he?”
Constan continued, “Fortunately, the Ironman was up to the challenge. One by one the best champions that the Parthian host had to offer came forth to fight the Ironman and one by one their blood washed over the stones of that bridge.”
Constan paused and took another swig of water from his canteen, “Occasionally a Parthian got lucky and scored a hit on the Ironman. Despite many bleeding wounds his strength never flagged, and he fought on. Finally, when the buzzing of flies swirling over his fallen enemies nearly drowned out the sound of swords ringing in battle, the sun touched the western horizon. The Ironman still stood alone on that bridge in front of the vast Parthian host. The Parthian commander, whose name has been lost to time, honored his word. Unusual for those treacherous bastards. The Parthian commander saluted the victorious Ironman and went home in peace just as he had promised.”
“So, what happened to the Ironman?” Athos asked.
Constan replied, “No one knows exactly. We are not even sure how the story got told. The Ironman has never been seen again after that day. It is said that a day will come that seems hopeless. A day in which the Empire will face an unimaginable challenge. When all seems lost, and beyond hope, the Ironman will return to us.”
Athos nodded, “Until that day, the Empire needs warriors like us.”
Baltazar added, “Strong warriors that are trained to overcome the Persians or whatever other challenge faces us.”
Constan smiled and put his hand on Athos and Baltazar’s shoulder, “Ye know I was convinced that the both of ye were just plain stupid. Everyone once in a while ye surprise me. Keep surprising me like ye did today, and we may yet have hope.”
Athos replied, “Thanks. I think...”
Constan winked at Athos and said, “With the right training it’s amazing what a Roman soldier can accomplish. Even a dim lot from Armenia such as yeselves!”
Athos pointed to the shield on the soldier’s back in front of him, “What do these colors on our shields represent?”
Constan replied, “The colors on our shield are in honor of the Ironman. Blue, representing the vast skies above him, as he fought. Red, in representation of the blood of his vanquished foes. Gray, in reflection of the iron that filled his heart and yellow in honor of the Sun as it made its way across the sky to the horizon.”
Baltazar asked, “You were in the war with Persia, right?”
Constan answered, “Aye, the war with Persian didn’t start well at all. After we had bled the ground red retreating all the way from Mesopotamia to the gates of Constantinople. We turned the tables on those Persian bastards. Luckily, after Emperor Heraclius finally pulled his head from his arse, and figured out what the hell he was doing. He led us on an offensive that carried the army to the gates of Ctesiphon. It was glorious!”
Baltazar jumped in, “You were at the sacking of Ctesiphon?”
Athos added, “The Ctesiphon that even when us Romans were at the height of our power and controlled all lands from the western sea to the deserts of Persia we couldn’t take?”
Constan beamed, “Aye, that’s the one. Jupiter had ignored the Empire for centuries, but God heard our prayers. With his strength, we were able to beat back the pagan hordes and wrest control of Ctesiphon from those Persian bastards and their false God Ahura Mazda.” Constan emphasized the name Ahura Mazda by spitting on ground.
Their banter was interrupted when Nikas powerful voice bellowed, “Halt and form testudo, you louts!”
As if they were of one mind the men of the 2nd Kentarchia broke their column of six marching formation and flowed together into a square. The Skutatoi in the front of the square held their shields out in front of them. The men on the right side held their shields in their right hands, and the men on the left side held their shields with the left hand. Those in the middle held their shields aloft, and the soldiers in the rear row turned around and held their shields facing back the way they had come. Together the shields formed a continuous wall. Like the turtle in its shell, they were well protected.
About ten minutes into the simulated arrow attack, Athos’ mind began wandering. He lost himself in thought wondering how great it must have been to be there at the end of that long road that Constan and the other veterans had journeyed upon during the war. He remembered stories told by veterans sitting around the fires on cool nights in Armenia. As he daydreamed, his left arm tiring from holding his shield aloft for so long, began to throb. Not thinking he lowered it.
Baltazar slapped him on the helm, “Come back to us Athos! You don’t want Nikas to see you daydreaming. He is just looking for an excuse to bust your balls, and shove a spear up your arse!”
“Thanks, Baltazar,” replied Athos. He raised his shield into his assigned spot for the testudo formation. I need to be more careful. He could remember Constan’s first lesson about the shield wall, ‘The testudo formation was the classic Roman tortoise of centuries past. The idea was to form a wall and use spears to keep enemy infantry and cavalry at bay. The formation was also effective versus slingers and gave a good deal of protection from enemy archers.’
Nikas yelled, “Column of sixes!”
This command jolted Athos into the present. He let his shield down and rubbed his arm trying to get the blood flowing again. The muscles in his arms were so fatigued that the arm shook. As he rubbed his arm, he ran to his spot in the column of six formation. After drilling so much Athos and Baltazar quickly found their places in the growing line of the 5th Parthica without conscious thought.
Constan had taught the friends this lesson as well. Athos remembered sitting around a campfire on his second night with the 5th Parthica. They sipped on wine as Constan explained, ‘A column of six was a formation used to travel. We have been trained to go quickly from battle formation to column of six and back again. Get used to it lads. Your days will consist of drills and practice. Such is the life of a soldier of the Empire. This training will ensure that you are ready for the day when the Persians come again and that you are worthy of being an Ironman!’
Nikas, shook his head, he was clearly disgusted, “You ladies make me sick! I think the sun has addled the brains of the lot of you! Since you did such a piss poor job of focusing on our formation drills, I believe that you need some time to clear your minds. Care to join me on a nice stroll around the desert? It will give you a chance to empty those busy minds of yours. I find the afternoon August Sun to be quite invigorating. You will too.”
Athos and Baltazar groaned along with the rest of the 2nd Kentarchia. He watched in dismay as the men of the other Kentarchias began marching back toward Damascus and their cool barracks buildings. Their steps seemingly lighter knowing that their suffering would soon be over.
Baltazar glared at Athos. The look made it clear to Athos, that Baltazar held him personally responsible for this extra stroll around the desert. Leaving the road, Nikas marched them out into the open desert Southeast of Damascus. The desert surrounding Damascus was not like the tall dunes, and shifting sands of the Sahara, but more of a hard-rocky parched surface. The landscape mainly consisted of gently rolling hills
. Gravel was strewn about as if God with his giant hand had spread it like seeds in a garden. Large brownish boulders dotted the countryside and if the wind kicked up out of the south dust storms were common.
During their trek into the open desert, they ran across the Sassanid Persian Ambassador. Athos had heard that the man’s name was Nafar. At a distance of about thirty feet from Nafar, a squad of soldiers sat on their horses watching over him.
They wore conical helmets with a nose guard and a white tassel on the top. Their armor consisted of a breastplate of overlapping scales that covered them to about mid-thigh. Each man held a lance in their left hand and had a sword sheathed on their left side. Slung over their backs were both a bow and a quiver of arrows. Every Persian had a perfectly groomed jet black beard. When the Persians flashed a smile to the passing 2nd Kentarchia, the contrast of their white teeth against their dark brown skin was striking.
Nafar was sitting atop a large brown rock performing what appeared to be a religious ceremony. His arms upraised toward the sky, he chanted the same prayer over and over. The sweat poured from his forehead, and he looked up toward the sun. Although they could not understand the nature of the prayer, it seemed to be a plea. The name Ahura Mazda could be heard clearly as it was said at the beginning of each sentence.
Athos and Baltazar quickly performed the sign of the cross to ward off evil spirits that may be about as a result of Nafar’s foul pagan ritual. Constan chuckled at their reaction, “The Persians practice a religion called Zoroastrianism. They believe in one god, Ahura Mazda, whose name means wise light. Praying to Ahura Mazda in bright sunlight was very common as it was thought that the sun was his embodiment.”
Athos pondered Constan’s statement for a moment, “So let me get this straight. We both believe in one God?”
“Aye lad we do, Ahura Mazda is more akin to the Roman God Sol Invictus than our Lord.”
Both Christians, Athos, and Baltazar again made the sign of the cross at the mention of Ahura Mazda and Sol Invictus. Christians had been a part of the Empire the last six hundred years, but only when Emperor Constantine adopted it as his religion in the 4th Century did it begin to become common place. By the 7th Century, the Empire was an entirely Christian Empire. Athos and Baltazar followed the Church that was established at Nicene in the early 4th Century.
The sounds of Nafar’s prayers faded away as they continued their march. The sweat began to pour off of Athos’ brow as the sun reached its zenith. Finally, Nikas called a halt, “Take a break for a few minutes ladies and then we will head back to the barracks for some cleaning. I don’t know why you louts have to tear the place up every night. If I didn’t know any better, I would think I am in charge of pigs!” The men of the 2nd Kentarchia groaned, which made Nikas smile all the more.
Constan made it known to Athos and Baltazar that he found their sloppiness during formation drilling to be responsible for the extra march, “You girls are buying the first-round tonight. Thanks to that extra march, I have built up quite the thrist.”
Baltazar groaned, “It should be Athos.”
“You’re his shield mate Baltazar. You should have his back no matter what dumb mistakes he makes,” Baltazar glared at Constan but nodded his agreement.
Athos added, “You just want to waste your coin on Liana.”
Constan looked at Baltazar with a piercing gaze that seemed to see into his soul, “Liana? Ye have had time to court?” Constan snorted in disgust, “Clearly I’ve been too soft on ye. How did you meet this girl?” Nikas who had apparently been eavesdropping chuckled at the question.
Baltazar blushed a deep shade of red that was still very apparent despite his well-tanned features. He cleared his throat and began his tale, “It happened by chance one evening. I was sitting on the lip of the fountain nearest the fort when Liana appeared with her jugs.” All of the men within earshot laughed heartily at this. Baltazar was confused over the reaction for a moment and then rolled his eyes in disgust, “Not those kinds of jugs, she had jugs to fetch water from the fountain.”
Baltazar paused for a moment to regain his composure and continued the story, “She had the most piercing raven black eyes and hair I had ever seen. She had many imperfections though. Her eyebrows were too thick and seemed to join. Her upper teeth jutted out slightly further than her bottom teeth.”
Constan commented, “She doesn’t sound very attractive.”
Baltazar replied, “I can’t explain it those features and the strange awkwardness she moved with were captivating to me. I agree most would see her as unattractive, but to me, she was an angel bestowed upon the earth from heaven itself.”
Damon, another member of Constan's Kontoubernion, said, “More like a devil that cast a spell on your eyes.” This elicited another laugh out of the men.
Constan said, “Well get on with it lad. What happened next?”
Baltazar resumed his tale, “I figured out that Liana would come to that fountain every evening at dusk. I made sure that I was there to see her when I could. She always seemed to be so tied up in her affairs that she never minded the other people in that fountain square, including me.”
Constan pretended to yawn, “Well so far you’re putting me to sleep lad, I hope this story gets better.”
Baltazar closed his eyes, laughed, and continued, “One evening I was sitting on the fountain. I had my eyes closed, and I was imagining that the water hitting my back came from a waterfall back home when the moment finally came. Unfortunately, my lucky break was nothing like what I had imagined it would be. A bird chose that moment to crap. Now that bird had the entire square to crap on, but the little bastard chose my right eye as the resting place for its turd!”
This brought laughter from all the men listening in on the story as they marched. After the laughter tapered off, Baltazar continued his tale, “When the bird crap hit me, I squawked in surprise, lost my balance and fell backward into the fountain. I immediately jumped up, far too quickly to wash off that damned bird crap. As a result, it ran down the right side of my face. I didn’t care, however; Liana was looking right at me! At that moment it was as if the pearly gates of heaven had opened up and shone down on me for the first time. Liana’s smile traveled straight into my heart. I was in love.”
Constan said, “How can ye be in bloody love when you haven’t even spoken to her yet?”
Baltazar answered, “I don’t know, I just knew in my heart that I was.”
Constan muttered, “That’s daft.”
Athos said, “Now who’s interrupting?”
Constan responded, “Fair enough, lad. Continue Baltazar.”
Baltazar nodded, “She then took a step forward and pushed me. I fell backward into the water. After she had finished giggling at my plight, she offered me a hand to help me up. I figured turnabout was fair play, so I took it yanked hard! As I hoped she tripped over the edge of the fountain and fell in! Not to be outdone she hooked her leg behind mine and swept me off my feet! I landed in the water right beside her. Laughing, she leaned her head toward mine.”
Before Baltazar could continue Constan said, “Finally we’re getting’ somewhere.”
Baltazar continued the story, “Our eyes locked and I leaned my head toward her. That was when she squirted me right in the face with a mouth full of water.” Everyone within earshot groaned in disappointment and then started laughing.
Athos asked, “So then what happened?”
“We just started laughing and splashing each other with water. The rest of the people in the square thought we were nuts, except for Nikas. He just shook his head, smiled and kept walking. After several minutes of splashing each other, we finally got out of the fountain. Both of us were soaked. At that point, Liana spoke to me and introduced herself. Over the following weeks, we met at the fountain every day at around the same time and talked.”
Constan interrupted again, “Clearly I was too soft on ye if you could have the energy to go cavorting with the young lass every day after our dr
ills.”
Baltazar replied, “Oh no, you did an excellent job of running me, ragged everyday old man. I was just so excited to see her when the time came the fatigue just washed away.”
Damon said, “Oh man, he’s got it bad.”
Constan said, “Aye.”
“Then one evening she told me, ‘I never thought I would find myself falling in love with a soldier, but you are different. Somehow you managed to let me in through a crack in that hard soldier exterior of yours.’ I told her that she had a way of melting through my defenses.”
Nikas said, “Well played.”
Indignant, Baltazar said, “Who isn’t listening to the story?” With that statement, the entire 2nd Kentarchia burst into laughter.
Huffing and puffing like men that did not know where their next breath would come from. The men’s shoulders were slumped and their feet dragged on the ground. Completely spent, from their long march, the men of the 2nd Kentarchia arrived back at their barracks.
Their barracks building was a simple structure within the confines of the 5th Parthica’s fort. As they marched the last few hundred feet their home, Athos looked around at the fort. He remembered back to his first lesson about the mighty structure from Constan, “The fort is a giant square. Inside the units are housed in the standard marching camp layout. Each night when on the move we will build a marching fort for protection. This tradition dates all the way back to the time of the Republic. The idea being that a Roman army cannot be surprised and destroyed while they sleep because every night they would sleep safely within their marching fort. To keep everything as standardized as possible, the barracks are laid out in the exact order that the 5th Parthica deploys inside a marching fort.”
Constan paused for effect and then swept his arms wide to indicate the fort, “This extra practice will help us to deploy rapidly into our completed marching fort. It also gives us practice at assembling as quickly as possible from the same spot every day. This extra bit of efficiency could be the difference between a successful defense, and death at the hands of our enemies.”
The Winter Sniper Page 23