Constan put a comforting hand on Maarika’s left shoulder and said, “There, there lass, I’m sorry for ye misfortune, but I have to know from whence they came if I am to have some chance to cut off the source of this evil. I need to know.”
Maarika nodded at Constan and said, “I’m afraid not sir. None that we know of at least. My people have a legend about the hungry, those you call the damned. That they will rise during a time that the Gods have forsaken the people. A time in which there is much sin against the Gods. Angered by this sin, the Gods will invoke upon us a horrible punishment. A most horrible punishment, but all is not lost.
The legend of my people also says, a hero from the north will rise. This hero will come from a land strange to us. A land of mountains and trees. This hero, a mighty warrior, will put an end to the hungry.”
Constan made the sign of the cross in reaction to Maarika’s use of the word gods, “May ye be correct and God willing this hero will emerge soon before all is lost.”
Baltazar and Nasir said in unison, “Amen.”
Constan pointed up the hallway toward the latrine, “Let’s go find Athos’ group on the second floor. Hopefully they’ve located the Governor’s wife. Then we can step out onto his office balcony and determine the situation in the rest of the city.”
The group made their way slowly up the hallway with Constan in the lead. He was followed by Baltazar, then Nasir and Maarika walking side by side, and finally Legion. When they reached the three-way intersection Constan paused in front of the door to the latrine. Looking up and down at Nasir and Baltazar’s emaciated state he asked, “When was the last time ye had a real meal?”
Baltazar replied, “It’s been about six weeks sir. Ever since Farid locked us up in his dungeon. He occasionally remembered to feed us a putrid gruel, but we mostly ate insects.”
Constan’s cheeks reddened, “That bastard, had no right. We could have really used ye in the fight last night. It came down to our last warriors. Even the children had to help.”
Constan sighed deeply and looked the pair up and down, “Both of ye look like you’re ready to fall out from hunger and exhaustion. Let’s get ye some food from the banquet hall and then we can join Athos and his group. I don’t need ye collapsing from starvation in the middle of battle and becoming a meal.”
Nasir and Baltazar looked at each other and smiled. They then turned and met Constan’s gaze and nodded their agreement to his plan. Constan turned down the hallway toward the banquet hall. He lamented the harm that had befallen the tapestries as he passed through the gruesome scene created by the damned feeding and their subsequent slaying. Baltazar, remembering the reaction he had to the tapestries the first time he gazed upon them, appeared saddened by the despoiling of the woven works of art depicting the life of Jesus, now covered in gore.
The group reached the banquet hall without incident. As they entered the room Baltazar, Nasir, and Legion rushed to the table and began stuffing their mouths. Maarika joined in the feast demonstrating more restraint than the starving men. Why was I fed and the men were not? The gaze flashed into her mind at the thought. That penetrating gaze that seemed to see into her inner soul. At the time it frightened her but now she saw it for what it was, lust. He wanted me. Why didn’t he just take me? He had the power too. It makes no sense. Was he hoping that I would love him?
Constan, observing the reckless abandon that the three men seemed to have as they consumed the food before them, commented, “Eat slowly. I’ve been on campaign before and seen what happens when those that haven’t had good meals for a time eat too much, too fast.”
Baltazar asked in between chews, “What happens?” He inadvertently spit out some particles of half chewed chicken as he opened his mouth to speak.
“Ye become beset by cramps, and vomit the food back up, and that’s if ye are lucky. There was this one poor bastard we liberated from the Persians, Marius. Good rest his soul.” Constan made the sign of the cross before continuing, “He clutched his gut and cried out in agonizing pain.”
“What happened next?” Baltazar asked.
“He farted the longest most foul-smelling bit of gas I’ve had the misfortune to smell in me life.” Constan answered.
“Worse than Damon?” Baltazar inquired.
Constan grinned, “Aye, worse than Damon. I know that can be hard to imagine, but this poor bastard smelled like he shite three-week-old fish that had been exposed to the sun and then marinated in Constantinople’s harbor water.”
Suddenly feeling cramps in his abdominal area Nasir asked, “Then what did Marius do?”
“He shite himself and dropped dead.” Constan said nonchalantly.
Both Nasir and Baltazar stopped chewing and spat chicken out of their mouths. Maarika, having taken the time to eat slowly, continued. Nasir, feeling nauseated, sat down on the bench. He reached out for a goblet of wine and began drinking it slowly. As he did so he had a sudden bout of flatulence that echoed through the banquet hall.
Maarika gasped in surprise, “Nasir! Have you no manners?”
Ignoring Maarika’s question, Nasir, his swarthy skin now taking on a white cast, asked, “Am I going to die?”
Constan took a deep breath, “I don’t believe so. Old Marius smelled much worse before he died.”
“Aye, you don’t even smell as bad as Damon.” Baltazar added.
Maarika, shaking her head in disgust. Pointed a finger at Nasir and added, “Thanks to your outburst you can believe every hungry in the city knows we’re in here.”
The skin on Nasir’s cheeks went from white to red in short order after Maarika’s admonishment. Shamed, he looked down at the stone floor.
Constan broke the moment of tension by speaking, “If ye have had your fill, let us be off. We need to catch up with Athos and plan our next move.”
Baltazar and Nasir nodded their assent. The two men set the pieces of chicken that they were gnawing on down onto the banquet table. Ignoring Constan’s statement Legion continued to shovel food into his mouth at a stunning rate.
Excited, Legion held up the chicken leg he was gnawing and said one word, “Good.” Ignoring Constan’s order, he continued to eat.
Seeing this, Maarika walked up beside him and placed her hand on his left forearm. She stood on her toes and whispered, “It’s time to go.”
Legion finished chewing the meat that was in his mouth, swallowed, looked down at Maarika and nodded. The pair fell in behind the three men as they walked through the door of the banquet hall, led by Constan. The group was able to walk the length of the hall, past the latrine, to the staircase that led to the second floor with no further encounters with the damned.
Constan paused just inside the doorway to the staircase and motioned that everyone should continue past him with his hand. When Legion and Maarika had walked through the doorway and began ascending the stone stairs, he pulled the door closed and barred it. He then placed both of his palms on the stout oaken door at shoulder level and pushed. Satisfied that the door would hold, he ascended the stairs.
Constan found the group at the top of the stairs. Baltazar was talking to Jirair. Suddenly a squeal of delight erupted down the hall from where everyone stood, it was Liana. Baltazar’s eyes locked on Liana’s. The rest of the world seemed to slip away as he beheld his love. Tears filled his eyes. Without conscious thought his legs began carrying him down the hall toward her. Slowly at first and then with increasing speed.
Liana, her body reacting similarly, began making her journey down the hall toward Baltazar. Their forms seemingly pulled toward each other with the gravitational pull of heavenly bodies, moved faster and faster as they drew closer. Liana, just a few feet shy of Baltazar’s outstretched arms, jumped into his embrace. Baltazar’s arms closed around Liana’s form as their eyes were flooded with tears of joy.
Pulling her in close Baltazar’s lips sought Liana’s and they kissed. Lightly at first, but with ever increasing fervor until their tongues intertwined. As a full minute
ticked by Athea and Athos emerged into the hallway to see what the commotion was about. Seeing the embrace between the two lovers, their hands unconsciously sought each other’s. Fingers intertwined they watched the warm scene basking in the love their friends shared for one another.
As Liana and Baltazar ended their kiss, Athea and Athos ran to them and surrounded the couple in a warm embrace. The friends, delirious with joy, hugged. Finally, able to speak Liana said, “I thought I’d lost you.” Her voice trailed off and she lowered her head into his chest began weeping.
Baltazar put his right index finger under her chin and raised it up so that their eyes met, “I’m sorry it took so long for me to find my way back to you love. You would not believe the adventure I had.”
Liana smiled, “You would not believe what I learned to do while you were gone.”
Baltazar had been getting poked by something attached to Liana’s hip, but had been too distracted to look down and see. Now for the first time he noticed it, “You’re wearing a gladius?”
Liana nodded, “Athos trained us to fight the damned.”
Baltazar trying to stifle the anger welling up inside him turned to Athos and said, “When I asked you to take care of her, teaching her to fight and risking her in battle isn’t what I had in mind.”
Athos, speechless paused for a moment to think, What do I tell him?
Before Athos had a chance to respond Baltazar added, “Luckily for you I’ve come to respect a woman’s ability to fight.” He pointed down the hall toward Maarika, “If not for Maarika, I would not be here.”
Athos put his arm around Athea and pulled her close, “We’re just glad you’re back. We feared the worst when you didn’t return. We have much catching up to do, but unfortunately we have more pressing matters to deal with.
Baltazar nodded, “Aye, the damned.”
Constan and the rest of the males, along with Liana, Athea, and Maarika walked through the Governor’s office and out onto his balcony which overlooked the forum. Chaos reigned below. Off in the distance east of the Agora, Damascus burned. The streets were filled with scattered members of the 5th Parthica fighting desperately against the damned.
Constan sighed deeply as his hope melted away, “Most of the civilian population that survived the battle last night has become damned.”
The Governor, holding his trembling wife to his immense side, asked, “Is there no hope?”
Constan’s shoulders slumped and he shook his head, “No, there just isn’t enough of me Skutatoi left.” He pointed at the groups of scattered survivors fighting in the forum and up and down Straight Street, “Those that still survive are few in number and scattered. There are too many damned between them to try and bring them together to establish a perimeter.”
“So, what do we do?” Governor Maurice asked. His once strong voice seemed hesitant and deflated.
“Find some way of escaping, or we hold the section of the palace we’re in against the onslaught.” Constan replied.
Governor Maurice pondered the choice in front of him for several moments and then said, “We won’t be able to hold here for long. That banquet we ate represented what was left of the food stores. We haven’t had much opportunity to replenish them since you returned from Yarmuk last month.”
Constan nodded in understanding, “That makes the choice simple then. We leave Damascus to its fate.”
Chapter 42
Afternoon September 29th 636, Governor’s Palace, Damascus, Syria Province, Byzantium
Sibling Rivalry
Constan, looked for enough room to properly pace while he thought. He walked back and forth across the floor of the Governor’s richly appointed office and back out onto the balcony. The office had a tan tiled floor and an immense desk, fashioned from oak in the corner. On the wall opposite the desk was a sitting area with four old style Roman couches, the kind people used to recline while eating.
As Constan made several round trips between the door that led back into the hallway and the barrier that marked the edge of the balcony he thought to himself, How do we get our small party through the damned while protecting the Governor and his wife?
Constan, ignored all of the eyes that followed him, stepped back out onto the balcony. As he gazed over at the white marble table on the balcony, his mind drifted back to the morning meetings he shared with the Governor, That fat bastard always had too much to eat while I reported on the progress of the 5th Parthica. I wonder if we would have had food enough to hold up in here and not risk any more of us if he would have controlled his gluttony?
Constan sighed deeply and looked out into the city. As he did so the Governor asked, “Well?”
Constan started to open his mouth to reply when his eye caught some movement in the forum below. It was a large party of the damned moving toward the palace. Constan’s reply to the Governor’s prompt never came as his eyes locked with one damned in particular, “Fonda!”
Fonda looked up at Constan and smiled, “You are looking positively yummy Constan. I wanted to continue our chat, so I brought some friends with me for dinner.”
Constan laughed, “Good luck getting up here. You can’t claw your way through the palace’s stout oaken doors.”
Fonda smiled, and gestured back toward the crowd of the damned following her. All of the damned save eight stepped to the side. Those eight held a pillar, removed from one of Damascus’ buildings, “I agree, that is why we brought a battering ram.”
Constan shuddered and turned to his subordinates, “Ideas, quickly.”
The eight damned with the battering ram rushed across Straight Street. Before Athos could open his mouth to speak a large boom rang out and the stone pillar smashed into a wooden shutter underneath them. Everyone on the balcony quickly rushed to the edge and leaned out over the barrier to see what had just happened. No one could lean out far enough to see what had taken place underneath the balcony.
Athos was the first to figure out what had just occurred, “They just broke into the latrine right underneath this room.”
Everyone stood and stared at each other. No one had any idea what to do next. The damned decided for them. Several loud muffled thumps came from downstairs.
“What the?” Damon asked.
Constan opened his mouth to answer, but before he could speak a loud crash erupted from the direction of the staircase. The door that Constan had barred earlier at the bottom of the stairs, buckled under the tender ministrations of the battering ram within a small number of blows.
“Quick, someone bar the door to the staircase!” Constan bellowed.
As the words came out of Constan’s mouth they heard a series of muffled thumps from downstairs. Athea, who was standing in the doorway, ran down the hallway. A few moments later the sound of the door separating the damned from the staircase breaking could be heard in-between breaths.
As she neared the door, she could hear the sound of many pairs of feet striking the stone steps below. She reached out to grab the iron ring that served as the door handle, before she could pull the door shut a hand shot out and grabbed her arm. She looked up into a set of teeth opening and closing rapidly in anticipation of feasting upon her flesh.
A Spatha swing interrupted the damned’s near meal as it cleaved through the arm holding Athea. As Athea looked on, dazed, the Spatha instantly shifted direction and came back up severing the damned’s head. Athea, no longer dazed, looked up into the eyes of her savior, Athos. He smiled at her and pulled her through the doorway with his left hand.
The next undead minion reached the top of the stairs and grabbed the edge of the door with both hands to prevent them from shutting it. Athos, struck it with a sharp kick in the damned’s chest. Unable to absorb the blow and remain standing. The former citizen of Damascus, lost its grip on the door and fell backwards into stairwell, impeding the progress of the other undead ascending the stairs.
Before any other damned could reach the doorway, Athos pulled it shut, and Athea dropped the bar int
o place. The pair turned and leaned up against the now closed door. Breathing a sigh of relief, they slowly sank to the floor and started laughing. “Athos, life hasn’t been the same since I joined the military. No more dining together at the Thirsty Palm, taking long walks, holding hands, or passionate kisses under the moonlight.”’
Athea paused, winked at Athos, and continued, “Now it’s all about sword training, marching to and fro and killing undead hordes sent from the foulest pits of hell bent on the total destruction of everything that lives.” In-between giggles Athea asked, “When do you think we are going to have a normal night of courting?”
Athos put his arm around Athea leaned in close and whispered into her left ear, “When we save the world of course.”
Athea turned her head and looked into his eyes, “I don’t want to wait that long.”
Athea brought her lips into contact with Athos’ and they kissed. Locked in the tender embrace of passion, the two turned their bodies until they were in each other’s arms. The feel of the other’s flesh pressed up against their own caused excitement deep within the lovers. As the kiss continued their nether regions stirred as the desire for each other intensified.
Athos moved his tongue around inside Athea mouth. She gladly yielded to Athos’ exploration of herself. Next, his hand slid downward from her back and rested on her left buttock. He squeezed it and Athea moaned softly. A loud bang brought them back to reality as the door shuddered from the blow.
“Bugger the damned,” Athos said softly. Then loudly so that those on the other side of the door could hear, “Can’t a man ever get a break from your endless hunger?”
Somewhere from several feet beyond the other side of the door Fonda replied, “No.”
Constan ran out into the hallway as the damned on the other side of it struck the door with their make shift battering ram a second time, “The time for planning is over. The bastards aren’t going to give us a bleeding choice. We make our stand up here.”
Byzantium Infected Box Set Page 58