As the group turned to walk into the well-appointed hall whose steps they had stood upon as Constan delivered his speech the one eyed Tourmarches said, “Gentlemen, we have to figure out a way to move forward to Jerusalem while minimizing risk to our twenty-one hundred Skutatoi and Damir’s five hundred light cavalrymen. If we get caught out in the open, I’m not sure we’ll be able to hold off this new kind of intelligent damned. Thoughts?”
Damir, a swarthy middle-aged man, replied, “We must travel light and fast, so that we can avoid cities.”
Constan nodded, “Aye that would be prudent. We don’t have the manpower to defend the usual wagon train that follows a Tourma, and Skutatoi are many things but light and fast is not amongst them.”
“I agree with Damir, that the cities must be avoided. That is where we run the most risk of encountering large numbers of the damned.” Athos said.
Hovig pursed his lips in irritation and asked, “What about the roads? Should we avoid them as well?”
“Where possible, yes.” Athos replied.
Constan’s brow creased as he considered the possibilities. After several moments he asked, “Do we have anyone that is familiar with the lay of the land between here and Jerusalem? I need to know how difficult it would be to march cross country without the benefit of a road.”
The three men stood in silence as they pondered Constan’s question. Suddenly Hovig snapped his fingers and said, “Gor, in the twelfth Kentarchia. He lived in Palestinia Province as a child. Perhaps he’s traveled this way before?”
“And hopefully survived this morning’s fight.” Constan added, “Fetch him here.”
Hovig stiffened to attention, saluted, and replied, “At once, Tourmarches.”
As Hovig left the ornate meeting chamber, Constan turned to Athos and asked, “Me pipes need some lubricating, see if ye can fetch some wine while we wait.”
“At once, Tourmarches!” Athos bellowed enthusiastically. He then came to attention, saluted, spun on his heels and left the chamber.
Constan turned to Damir and asked, “So how did ye mounts fair on the voyage?”
“Well, sir. We only lost one while unloading. A feisty stallion, he managed to break free on the deck of the Pulcheria. The poor bastard bolted, and then broke his front legs when he crashed into the railing. We had to put him down. The men will be feasting on horse flesh this evening.”
Constan smiled, “Good, only one horse lost while off-loading, I’m glad something has gone right today. Ye are going to play a vital role as the eyes of this army. This will be a task instrumental in keeping us out of trouble until we reach Jerusalem.”
As Damir opened his mouth to reply Athos, entered the chamber. Trailing him was a common Skutatoi holding an Amphorae of wine. In Athos’ hands were a clay jug, and four cups, “There was a tavern right across the street. I took two of the men and cleared it. Within the basement we found dozens of amphorae of wine. This one looked like the finest vintage of the lot, I released the rest of it to the men.”
The Skutatoi set the amphorae down in front of Constan and then turned to Athos who said, “Thank you, Narek, that will be all, you may return to your unit.”
Narek, snapped to attention, saluted Athos, and left the chamber. As the three men finished filling their cups and raised them in a toast, Hovig entered the chamber followed by another common Skutatoi and said, “This is the man I spoke of, Gor.”
Constan turned to meet the man’s gaze. Like all Skutatoi he wore a chain mail tunic that covered his chest, arms, and torso down to the mid-thigh. He also wore a set of steel plated greaves, and sandals. Like most Southern Armenians he was a swarthy man with brown skin and jet-black hair. He looked Constan directly in the eyes and said, “You need me, sir?”
Constan nodded slowly, “Aye, it’s been said that ye grew up in these parts and lived in this province as a child?”
Gor grinned and nodded slowly, he was missing several teeth, “Yes, my father wanted to live in the land that our Lord Jesus Christ once walked and ministered to. Sadly, he died of the pox just shy of his thirtieth summer. After he passed, mum packed us up, and took us back to Armenia to live with the rest of our family.”
Constan gave Gor the faintest hint of a smile, “How familiar are you with the lands between here and Jerusalem?”
Gor smiled broadly, “Quite familiar, my dad used to take me with him here to purchase goods coming off the ships for our shop in Jerusalem.”
Constan returned Gor’s smile as he asked, “That’s good news, lad. What are the lands like between here and Jerusalem? Can ye describe them?”
“From here to Nashon, the lands are flat and easy to travel across. Farmer’s fields mainly.” Gor replied.
“And beyond Nashon?” Constan asked.
Gor’s brow wrinkled for a moment and he thought about his reply, “The land becomes dryer, and hilly. The old city in Jerusalem itself is built upon a hill.”
“How steep are the hills? Would it be possible for the army to cross them, or will we have to follow the roads along the valleys? Constan asked.
Gor looked down at his feet as he said, “I’m not sure sir. I just remember winding roads following the valleys in-between the hills. We never really strayed from the road with the wagon.”
Constan smiled reassuringly at the man as he said, “Makes sense, lad, no worries.”
Gor nodded nervously by way of response as Constan asked, “How big of a town is Nashon?”
Gor smiled in relief at a question he could answer definitively, “It’s not very big sir. It consists of several inns with attached taverns and about forty or so huts clustered around the inns. Nashon is a great stopping place. It’s exactly one day out from Jerusalem, so several inns sprang up in that spot around a natural spring. It’s not much of a town otherwise.”
“Good lad, and Lydad? Can ye describe it?” Constan asked.
Gor nodded slowly and said, “Yes, it’s about a day’s journey from here cross country, less if you take the road.”
“And from Lydad to Nashon?” Constan asked.
“Another day or so.” Gor replied.
“What kind of city is Lydad? Does it have much size to it?” Constan asked.
“It’s a walled city of perhaps five thousand souls. The town serves as a market and central hub for the surrounding farms and sits on the main route through Judea to both Egypt and Syria.”
“That’s good information about the town. So in total it will take us three days to march to Jerusalem from here?” Constan asked.
“Yes sir. That’s about how long it took our oxen pulled wagon to make the journey. It is slow going, but for the most part an easy one until you get close to Jerusalem.”
Constan again smiled at Gor, “Thank ye, lad. Ye are dismissed.”
Gor stiffened to attention and saluted Constan. He then spun on his heels and left the chamber. As he did so, Constan turned back to the group, “Based on the information that Gor just provided, I propose that we march across the country side skirting Lydad to avoid the damned within the city and then making for Nashon. Thoughts, gentlemen?”
Hovig cleared his throat and said, “It will be harder going across country without using the roads. It will add a day or two to the journey.”
Constan started to open his mouth to reply but Athos was quicker, “Avoiding towns and cities and therefore large bodies of the damned will be well worth the extra time it takes to avoid them.”
“The lad is right. We can ill afford another conflict on the scale of what we experienced here in Joppa. I need all of our surviving men to make it to Jerusalem alive. The good lord above only knows how many of the damned infest the holy city’s streets. We will need every man we can muster to fight our way in and back out again” Constan said.
Constan drew in a sharp breath, took a small sip of wine, and continued, “As I previously ordered, keep one in ten men on the walls tonight standing watch. Order the men to stay in pairs, and forbid them from wandering
off and attempting to loot unsecured structures. Loot the taverns if ye must, to allow them a bit of victory celebration, but limit the drinking to five goblets of wine for each man. It’s dangerous to travel across damned infested lands in the dark, so let them sleep until dawn. Once you wake them have the men ready to march within an hour. Questions?”
Hovig, Damir, and Athos stared back at Constan in silence. Constan allowed the men several moments to process what he had said before continuing, “If anything should occur to ye to ask, find me. I don’t care what hour it is. It’s important that ye are clear on every little detail. Failure to follow my instructions and execute at this point will cost lives. If there are no questions, then ye are dismissed.”
The three men stiffened to attention, saluted, and spun on their heels to leave. As they began walking out Constan asked, “Athos stay with me, lad.”
Athos turned back to face Constan, “Sir?”
“Stand at ease, lad, I don’t want to drink alone tonight.” Constan replied.
Alone, the two men dropped the pretense that came with the difference in their rank. They filled their goblets in silence and quickly downed their first drink. Constan, the alcohol giving him a warm happy feeling, expression suddenly turned more somber as he asked, “So what do ye think of Amata?”
Athos met Constan’s gaze as he pondered the question. Should I tell him the truth, or just what he wants to hear?
Before Athos could reply Constan asked impatiently, “Well, lad? Has a damned eaten your tongue?”
Athos glanced down at the desk that they sat at, his shoulders slumped as he said, “On the surface she seems nice enough. It just all happened so fast. How long have you known this woman?”
Constan let out his breath slowly, he kept a neutral expression on his face as he said, “So ye disapprove of my marriage?”
Athos grimaced inwardly at the harsh tone of Constan’s words. How do I get out of this conversation without upsetting the old man? “I didn’t say that, sir. Amata seems agreeable enough, but she’s not that woman you fell in love with as a young soldier. She’s a whore now, sir. You deserve better than that.”
Constan refilled his wine goblet and drained it in one gulp. He wiped his arm across his mouth, and then stared at Athos for several long moments before replying, “Ye may be right about her choice of professions, but in a way, what happened to her is my fault.”
Before putting any thought into his reply Athos quickly fired back, “So that means you have to sacrifice yourself and marry a woman who’s probably lain with hundreds of men?”
Constan’s cheeks turned a deep shade of scarlet as Athos’ words seared into his mind, “Ye mean, why do I lower myself to marrying a whore, is that it?”
“Constan, you are my commanding officer, but you are much more than that. In a way you have become like a father to me. Setting the matter that she is a whore aside, what is it that captivates you about this woman?” Athos asked.
Constan pondered the question for several moments and then replied, “It’s hard to describe, lad. Every time she is near my heart sings. I’ve never felt that way about another woman.”
“And the fact that she became a whore hasn’t dampened that feeling any?” Athos asked.
Constan’s brow furrowed and his cheeks turned a bright scarlet. His entire body was wracked by tremors. Unable to contain the fury any longer he exploded, “Stop calling her that!”
Athos was surprised as Constan’s fury slammed into him like a physical force. Taking a step back he held up his hands in supplication and nodded slowly, “As you wish. Please finish answering my question. Your heart sings when she is near. What else do you feel?”
The redness drained from Constan’s cheeks as he poured himself another goblet of wine and stared at it for many long moments before saying, “I canna quite put me finger on it, laddie. She has a fine body to be sure, but she is certainly not the most attractive woman. Her face has some fine qualities to it. You get used to the teeth in time.”
Athos sighed deeply, “Given how this woman tugs at your heart, I know you have more than a surface attraction to this woman. Given your anger at my callous words, it is evident that your depth of feeling runs deep.”
Constan took a sip from his goblet before replying, “Aye. It does indeed run deeper than that. It’s something about her that I find irresistible. Her voice, and her eyes. Just the way she has always looked at me. Like she can see into my very soul and despite that fact, she still wants me.”
Athos rubbed his temple with his right hand before looking Constan in the eyes and replying, “So she loves you. I must admit that much is obvious and seems genuine. You still haven’t answered fully my question of what draws you to her. Do you love her?”
Constan’s eye took on a faraway look as he replied, “Aye. I’ve loved her since that night we shared on the pier in Constantinople. When I opened my heart to God, all I can hear in me mind is that she is the one for me.” He paused for a moment and unconsciously rubbed the brown leather eye patch over his left eye socket before continuing, “Neither of us are not the person that we were when we fell in love so long ago. I am no longer whole. She has given a little piece of herself to countless men.” Constan’s voice trailed off as he finished the last sentence.
Athos opened his mouth to speak, when Constan reached across the desk that they sat at, placed a hand on Athos’ left shoulder, and said, “Lad, it was brave of ye to ask the questions that you did. I know that ye are just trying to look out for me, and I appreciate that.” Without warning Constan’s grip tightened painfully on Athos’ shoulder as he continued, “Be warned, if ye ever call my Amata a whore again in my presence I will gut ye like a swine. Understood?”
Athos nodded nervously as he whispered, “I do.”
“Good, be gone with ye. I suddenly find myself wanting to drink alone.” Constan said.
Chapter 55
Morning, October 15th 636, Joppa, Palestinia Province, Byzantium
Jerusalem Bound
The men were awoken as Constan had instructed. Instead of the blare of the cornu summoning them to formation, one by one the men shook each other awake. Within the hour they were lined up in front of the city’s eastern gate. Constan, astride his white and grey dappled horse, drew his Spatha, raised it into the air above his head with the point reaching toward the heavens, and then slowly lowered it toward the gate. The men manning the gate raised the bar, set it to the side, and slowly pushed the large oaken doors open. The hinges, not having been oiled for several months, groaned in protest as the doors were slowly pushed opened.
The surviving members of the 5th Babylon filed out of Joppa in a column of six formation. Once the last of the men cleared the gate, the guards tasked with staying behind to maintain their hold on Joppa and guard their ships, closed and barred the gate. The single Kentarchia of men charged with this task, climbed the stairs to the top of the city walls and watched as their comrades slowly disappeared over the horizon.
They marched for a short distance on the well-maintained road. As it turned southward, they left the road and continued marching east. They trudged through several over-ripened fields of wheat. As they did so, mounted messengers from Damir’s five hundred light horse scouting ahead would show at regular intervals to make reports. As the hours passed and no damned sightings were reported, the men’s spirits began to lift.
The temperature remained comfortable throughout the day as the sun reached its zenith. In the third hour beyond the sun’s zenith the familiar sight of one of Damir’s messengers appeared on the horizon in front of them. Unlike the previous messengers, this one kicked his horse into a gallop once he sighted the column. The rider astride his horse, dashed at top speed toward the head of the formation kicking up dust behind it.
Athos riding at the head of the formation to Constan’s left said, “Looks like Damir may have found something.”
Constan flashed Athos an annoyed look and said, “Don’t jump to conclusions be
fore ye hear the report. Are ye an old woman to foster rumor and gossip?”
Athos grimaced at the rebuke, Don’t jump to conclusions until I hear the report? I’m certainly not an old woman! The old man must be sore about our conversation yesterday. I hope the old buzzard realizes I was just trying to help.
They kept the column moving forward at a marching pace as the single rider drew near. The sounds of his midnight black horse’s hooves striking the earth could be heard as a dull thump, thump, thump, as the messenger drew near. Sweat from the exhausted looking animal covered its flanks. As the rider drew within twenty-five feet of the column he pulled the horse’s reins in hard and yelled, “Whoa.”
The huge beast broke its long strides and the animal’s hooves skidded across the dusty earth for several feet before coming to a halt in front of the column. Constan mounted on his white charger on the left side of the column raised his right arm and said, “5th Babylon, halt!”
He cast his gaze expectantly at the messenger. The man, seemed more Persian than Armenian with a neatly trimmed jet black beard, “Tourmarches Constan?” He asked.
Constan nodded slowly, “Aye.”
A look of relief washed over the man’s swarthy face and his shoulders slumped, “Droungarios Damir sends his regards. A horde of the damned has been spotted along the path to Lydad.”
“A horde ye say? How many? What direction do they go?” Constan asked.
“Yes sir. A horde of the damned. At least ten thousand by our estimates.” The messenger replied.
Athos let out a low whistle, “Ten thousand?”
Seeing Athos for the first time resplendent in his Kentarches uniform and astride his own impressive white charger, the messenger saluted him and replied, “By our best estimates Kentarches.”
“And which direction did you say they moved soldier?” Constan asked with an edge of impatience in his voice.
“Straight toward this column, sir.” The messenger said.
“Moses’ hairy balls! Is nothing ever easy?” Constan growled in frustration.
Byzantium Infected Box Set Page 84