Byzantium Infected Box Set

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Byzantium Infected Box Set Page 32

by James Mullins


  “Aye, sir,” Athos saluted, executed an about face and walked back to his men.

  Athos went over to Damon who, along with several other 5th Parthica survivors, were assisting with getting the 1st Kentarchia to stand at attention in formation correctly. He paused waiting for Damon to finish. “How dare you laugh in my formation. Are you going to think it’s funny when your friend there has his throat ripped out because you are too busy playing the jester?” Damon berated the unfortunate. The argument had the desired effect as the man became downcast.

  “No,” replied the man nervously.

  “What is your name, soldier?”

  “Touma.”

  “Well Touma, let me tell you all the ways you have just screwed up. First off anytime you address a superior in any manner you finish with a sir. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, sir,” Touma said meekly with an edge of fear in his voice.

  Damon roared at Touma in response, “What are you a eunuch? Did you have your balls snipped off when you were a boy? That was the most pathetic yes sir I have ever heard in my life. Since you’re obviously the most pathetic excuse for a man in this formation, I suggest you take ten laps around the parade field. Think about how you are going to do better when you get back. Understood?”

  Touma yelled as loud as he could, “Yes, sir!”

  “Get out of my sight,” Damon shouted in disgust.

  “Nicely done, Damon. Could you join me? I need a hand with the 2nd Kentarchia. I’ve got them ready to march.”

  Damon paused and looked around at the 1st Kentarchia. Several of the 5th Parthica survivors were laying into the guardsmen as they attempted their first military formation. “Looks like there are plenty of us here.” Damon smiled wickedly. He used a loud voice that was sure to be overheard by the 1st Kentarchia, “I’d be happy to help you train the 2nd Kentarchia how to march. This lot seems to be daft. They can’t even manage to stand in formation at attention. If this is the best Farid’s men can manage, they are likely the most pathetic lot I’ve ever seen. This group has grown soft and fat robbing little old ladies of coin.”

  Several of the new soldiers made noises of displeasure at Damon’s insult. The other members of the 5th Parthica ran up and began yelling at the offenders. As Damon and Athos walked back over to the 2nd Kentarchia, the screams washed over them. Damon looked over at Athos and smiled contentedly, “Sure beats the hell out of being on the receiving end.”

  Athos chuckled, “Indeed.”

  Athos placed himself at the front of the 2nd Kentarchia as Damon walked around behind them. Athos began speaking to the men, “When we start everyone will take a left step at the same time. You will then walk in tandem with the count. To make it easy on you, I will simply say which foot to step with. Questions?” Several of the men held up their hands. Athos looked at each of them and finally selected a man that had a genuine look of confusion on his face. Athos pointed at the man, “You there, what’s your question?”

  The man, with a nervous edge to his voice, asked Athos, “I’m sorry, sir but I don’t have my letters. Which foot is my left and which is my right?” Several of the men tried to hold back laughs. They mostly succeeded, but a few snickered out loud. These men were immediately set upon by Damon and made to be sorry for their lack of control.

  “A valid question. To those of you who think you are so much smarter, you’re wrong. As a soldier you have one mission, to obey orders. If you do not understand an order, ask questions. I’d rather answer a question now while we are in training than lose twenty of you to the damned on the battlefield because the question went unasked. It would be dastardly indeed if one of you were too cowardly to ask a question that could have saved lives. What’s your name, soldier?”

  The soldier blushed at the attention, “Yousef, sir.”

  “Well, Yousef, you did the absolute right thing by asking your question. You’re in training, so questions are good. Once you learn to be a soldier and we are in battle I’ll need you to react to orders. Right now, it is my job to teach you what is expected of you when those orders are given. Brave men like you, asking questions when they are confused, or just don’t know, will save lives later. Yousef, you’ve earned yourself an extra wine ration tonight.”

  Yousef smiled at Athos and made his best attempt at a salute, “Thank you, sir.”

  Athos then pointed at Yousef’s left leg, “That is your left, soldier.”

  “Understood, sir,” Yousef replied. He then resumed standing at attention.

  Athos looked him up and down, “Not bad, Yousef.” He looked around and selected another soldier. “You there, soldier, what’s your name?”

  “Isaac, sir.”

  “What’s your question, Isaac,” Athos asked.

  “How much training will we receive before we have to fight the damned?”

  “That’s a good question, Isaac. I know that this weighs on many of you. The answer is, I don’t know. It’s up to the damned. I’m hoping it will be at least a month or two, but only God knows the time precisely. In the meantime, I need you men to learn quickly. Tomorrow we will take on many new recruits. These men, unlike you, will be straight off the streets of Damascus and the surrounding villages. They will have no military training or weapons experience.”

  Athos answered several more questions and then began the process of teaching the 2nd Kentarchia how to march. Farid returned with his brother Zahid. Constan saw them come into the fort and walked over to the two brothers. Zahid was pale looking. “It's about time ye decided to show. The 1st Kentarchia is nearly ready for marching training, and ye’ve missed all of it, Zahid,” Constan walked in a slow circle around Zahid. “You don’t look so good, lad,” Constan noticed a red blotch on Zahid’s robes over his left shoulder. I bet this is the bastard Baltazar’s dagger hit last night, thought Constan.

  “Well, what do you have to say for yeself, soldier?” Constan asked with a hint of anger in his tone.

  “I had the shits,” Zahid replied.

  Constan stopped in front of Zahid, “A case of the shits eh?”

  “Yeah,” Zahid stated with a nervous smiled.

  With a wicked grin on his face, Constan jabbed his finger into the red stain on Zahid’s robes. Zahid’s face contorted into a grimace but he refused to cry out. Constan yelled, “You will stand at attention and address me as sir when I ask you a question. Do you understand?”

  Zahid glared at Constan with hatred in his eyes, “How dare you address me in that manner, goat herder. I don’t care if that the fat bastard of a Governor put you in charge.”

  Constan slapped Zahid in the face with the back of his left hand. “Silence!” Zahid glared at Constan with murderous intent written on his face. He rubbed his stinging cheek with his hand. “If you ever address me again in such a disrespectful manner, Kentarches, I will kill you. I don’t give a shit who your father is, who he knows, or you know, or how much noble blood you have in those veins of yours. You are now a member of the 5th Parthica and subject to my orders. I will not hesitate to spill that noble blood all over this field if you defy me. Do you understand?”

  Zahid replied, “How dar-.”

  Constan struck Zahid with his right hand. This time it was a closed fisted punch instead of a slap. Zahid collapsed to the ground, dazed from the blow. Farid started to draw his Spatha. Constan’s left hand grabbed Farid’s wrist. Farid stopped and said, “Sorry, sir, he’s my brother.”

  “I understand, Droungarios. It’s because of that, you still draw breath. Clear?”

  “Crystal clear, Tourmarches,” Farid released his grip on the pommel of his Spatha and brought his arm up in a salute. Zahid groaned and sat up. His right cheek was red and had a faint outline of Constan’s knuckles imprinted on it.

  “See to your brother, Droungarios. He is a Kentarches in the 5th Parthica. I expect him to be fit for duty tomorrow morning. You may want to ensure that he limits his nocturnal activities and gets plenty of rest tonight.” Constan turned and walked awa
y before Farid had the chance to respond. He resumed his position on the Dais overlooking the parade ground and continued to watch Athos and his other veterans train the four kentarchias of guardsmen how to march.

  As the afternoon wore on a dozen or so men earned the opportunity to run laps. The men look better and better, Constan thought. At first, they struggled to march in tandem. A lot of men were always on the wrong foot during the marching count. As the Sun began its descent toward the western horizon, they finally found their stride. By the time the Sun was touching the horizon, Constan thought, They are starting to look halfway decent.

  Constan walked over to the armory and grabbed a cornu. He ascended his dais and blew hard into the horn. The sound of the horn could be heard all over Damascus. Constan yelled, “Form up in front of me.” The veterans gave the required orders, and the four kentarchias moved into position. Three hundred and ninety sets of eyes focused on Constan. I am damn sure not used to this. Hopefully, they can’t see how nervous I’ve been all day.

  “Soldiers of the 5th Parthica. Make no mistake, that is exactly what ye are. Ye’ve done well today.” He pointed over at the fort’s gate, “When you walked into that gate this morning ye were city guardsmen. The next time ye march through that gate, you will do so as soldiers of the Empire. The veterans will show you to the kitchens. Veterans, when you finish up the evening meal, see me. I’ll be in my villa. Dismissed!”

  Constan walked back to his barracks building and gathered his gear. As he headed out the door he turned and looked back, I’ll miss being here. He closed the door lightly behind him and walked over to the Tourmarches villa. Once inside he closed the door and sank to the floor. “What the hell am I doing?” He spoke out loud to the empty foyer.

  A voice answered him, “It looks like you are sitting on the floor, sir.”

  Startled Constan asked, “Who the hell are you?”

  The man replied, “Saul, Tourmarches. I am a slave tasked with the upkeep of this villa and providing the Tourmarches with whatever he may desire when within its walls.”

  Constan let out his breath slowly and replied, “Who do you belong to?”

  “This fort, along with everything in it, belongs to the Emperor, including me,” Saul answered.

  Constan nodding in understanding, “Can ye show me to my room?”

  “Certainly, sir, if you’ll follow me,” Saul replied.

  The foyer opened up onto a courtyard. The courtyard was square in shape. Unlike the Governor’s courtyard, it did not contain a fountain or plant life. Constan’s courtyard was a simple square with paving stones. An overhang, that ran along the edge of the entire courtyard, protected the residents of the home from the elements between each of the doors. There were several torches attached to supports on the walls evenly spaced between each door. They burned and crackled as the light they cast caused the shadows to dance.

  Saul led Constan across the open courtyard to a door that was indistinguishable from the rest. It was made of oak, rectangular in shape, except the top where it was curved in a half circle. Saul opened the door and spoke, “Your chambers, Tourmarches.” Constan stepped into the room and looked around. He let out a low whistle.

  At the far end of the chamber, several windows were shuttered closed. On the right wall was a large bed. On the left wall was what could only be a toilet. It was made from stone, square in shape, with a round opening on the top. The sounds of water rushing by could be heard emerging from it. Nearby was an empty bath. The bath was made of marble and sunk into the floor on the same side of the room with the toilet.

  Constan said, “Wow. ‘Tis nearly the size of the barracks I shared with nine other men.” Constan walked over to the bed and dropped his gear on the floor at the foot of it. He sat down on the bed and then decided to lay down and spread his arms out, “This is softer than a babes arse,” Constan said. Saul stood at the door waiting patiently for a directive. The man acts as if he has never been on a real bed before.

  Constan stood up and walked over to Saul, “I will be hosting a meeting tonight in the courtyard. Please ensure there are thirty seats set out. Also, arrange to have wine and finger foods to snack on. Clear?”

  Saul replied, “Yes, Tourmarches. I will see to the arrangements at once. When will the meeting begin?”

  “In about an hour,” Constan glanced longingly over at the empty bath, “Can ye also draw me a bath? I would like to bathe and change before then.”

  “I will see to it immediately, sir,” Saul pointed at the large wooden wardrobe that had gone unnoticed. “If you would like to change into something more suitable to your station, Tourmarches Elias’ clothing is in the wardrobe. I believe you are about the same size.”

  “Very good, Saul. I shall indeed change following my bath.”

  Constan stripped off his outfit and once again sank down on the bed while keeping his dagger in easy reach. He was asleep within moments.

  Boulous led the group of riders and wagons down the Tyre road. The sun slid toward the horizon directly in front of the group as they rode westward. After their first encounter with the damned, they had continued traveling without incident for the remainder of the day. Boulous looked around and pondered where to make camp for the night, “I wonder if the damned are attracted to light?”

  Justin and Baltazar considered the question for several moments. “I’m not sure,” Baltazar replied. “During Yarmouk, we fought by the moonlight once the sun had set.”

  Justin also commented, “We never built a campfire as we rode north back to Damascus. Perhaps we could set up an experiment tonight?”

  Boulous replied, “It would be good to know if fire attracted them or not. Especially while we are in an area with so few of the damned. What did you have in mind, Kentarches?”

  Justin pointed to the cliff wall running alongside the road to their right, “If we built a perimeter using wagons and some dirt, we could secure ourselves and create a barrier to fight from. Then we could light a fire, at a distance, outside of our perimeter and see what happens.”

  Boulous nodded in agreement, “That sounds like a good plan. If a fire does attract one of those buggers, it will give us a chance to season these guardsmen from an advantageous position. Let’s do it.”

  Boulous nodded in agreement, “Let’s find a spot that can be used as you suggested.

  The group continued walking for several more minutes before Justin brought the column to a halt. He looked around and pointed at a small hill set up against the cliff face to their right, “Let’s set up there. We can park the wagons up on top of that hill up against yonder cliff face. That way we only have to defend in three directions instead of four. Have the Guardsmen take their spades and fill in under the wagons with dirt. We will build a fire twenty feet outside of the perimeter. Post three of the guardsmen to act as a watch. Have them draw lots to figure out who will stand watch. Ensure that they switch themselves out every hour so they can all get some rest. I want to keep our veteran warriors well rested.”

  Boulous replied, “Aye.”

  Justin informed the drivers and the guardsmen what the plan was while Boulous and his experienced riders scouted the surrounding area for threats. As the sun disappeared behind the horizon, Boulous and his riders approached the camp. The wagons were positioned around the perimeter, and the gaps between the wheels were filled in with dirt.

  Three men were posted looking each of the three directions not blocked by the cliff face. A nice fire was burning nearby. Boulous and his men dismounted and led their horses through a gap left up against the cliff wall. The fire flickered and spat causing shadows and light to intermingle and dance upon the cliff face.

  “Nice setup,” Boulous said to Justin.

  “Thanks. What did you find out?” Justin inquired.

  “As far as we were able to see there are no damned within five miles of this location. Let’s turn in for the night,” Boulous said.

  Boulous, Justin, Baltazar, and the rest of the men went to sl
eep. Absent was the talking, joking, and games that preceded slumber when the 5th Parthica last marched through here on the way to Yarmouk. The veterans drifted off to sleep while the Guardsmen watched over the camp as arranged.

  Justin was shaken awake. He opened his eyes. It was still dark, but the eastern horizon had a faint tinge of deep reddish orange. “What is it,” he asked in a whisper.

  The guardsman replied, “Sir, we spotted several moving forms heading this way from the west.”

  “Shit, let’s get everyone up quietly,” Justin ordered. The two men roused everyone and instructed them to prepare for battle. Once ready, Justin had the guardsmen climb onto the empty wagons. Boulous and his riders saddled their mounts and stood by. Everyone nervously watched and waited. The worst part of being a soldier is the waiting. As the seconds slowly ticked by every man was a prisoner to his own thoughts. Many praying to God, begging that this not be their final day on Earth.

  The men heard them before they saw them. Their forlorn moans pierced the darkness. Several figures, perhaps a dozen or so, emerged from a valley and approached the fire. The damned, without pausing, walked right into the fire.

  Several of the guardsmen gasped in shock at the sight of the burning figures. The damned, hearing the sound of the gasps, started walking toward their perimeter. Justin yelled, “Jump down and form a shield wall. We can’t let these bastards set the wagons on fire! Boulous ride!” The guardsmen, Justin, and Baltazar jumped down. They raised their shields just as the flaming undead crashed into their line.

  One of the guardsmen, his hand burned by the flaming apparition from the bowels of hell in front of him, dropped his shield in pain. The damned lunged at him, grabbed him, and sank its teeth into his neck. The burning creature also set the poor unfortunate on fire. The man to his right tried to strike the flaming damned in the head with his ax but missed. The bitten man screamed in agony for a few seconds and then died. Now flaming, he arose and immediately bit the leg of his would-be savior.

 

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