Constan turned in his saddle to look at Athos, “Maybe so, but what about our cavalry? They’ve exhausted their supply of arrows and lost a fifth of their force.”
“While in the process, leading a horde away that could have been the end of all of us. It’s ok to be sad at the loss of the men. I know that you were one of the men for so long that losing any of them is a hard blow to take, but do not despair my friend. You are doing a fine job as our leader.” Athos said.
The edges of Contsan’s lips turned upward slightly as he gave Athos a slight grin, “Thanks Athos, I really needed to hear that. You and I both know I have never wanted command. It tears my soul apart to order men into danger and to watch them fall.”
Athos nodded slowly as he said, “Aye, but I’d rather follow you than some damned entitled idiot like Farid any day.”
In a louder voice, so that Hovig could also hear him, Constan said, “Set the pickets out to stand watch, and have the men build a marching fort. Let Damir’s men come into the center while the Skutatoi toil, so that they may rest themselves and their mounts. We’re going to spend the night here and ensure that everyone is well rested before we set off for Nashon on the morrow.”
It took the Skutatoi of the 5th Babylon around two hours before they had a ditch dug and the earth generated from the task formed into a wall. With one in ten men posted as watch, the rest returned to slumber. All of them awoke as the sun set and worked to build cooking fires out of whatever fuel they could forage from the nearby farms. The smell of dinner wafted through the air. As the men ate, Constan slowly walked through the camp that night. He kept to the shadows so that he would not be recognized. He listened as he heard the Skutatoi, regailing their comrades with tales of their heroics during the landing in Joppa.
The stories amongst Damir’s men were of a different flavor. They recounted tales of near misses, clever escapes, and daring manevers to get their comrades out of danger during their extended contact with the damned horde. Constan inwardly smiled as he heard some of the more embellished tales of heroism. Satisfied that the men’s morale was holding, despite their recent losses, he returned to his own pavilion at the center of camp and went to sleep around midnight.
Constan smiled as he ended his kiss with Amata. He took a step back, looked down, and placed a hand on her swollen belly, “A feisty one this lad, I feel him kicking.”
Amata smiled up at him. Her large teeth catching the sunlight as she nodded. She opened her mouth to speak and said, “Sir, there is movement outside the perimeter.”
Constan, confused asked, “Wait, what?”
Two hands grasped him by the shoulders and began shaking him. Amata’s viseage faded away and his eyes focused on the face looming above him, Athos, “I said, we have movement outside the perimeter.”
Constan blinked his eyes to get the grit out of them and asked, “How much movement? I don’t want to wake all of the men unless abosolutely necessary.”
“Hard to say, it’s off the north wall.” Athos replied.
Constan stood and said, “Let’s go see.”
The two men made there way past hundreds of sleeping forms. The fires that they had built earlier to warm their dinners, starved of fuel, burnt low and sent plumes of white smoke circling lazily into the night sky. Within a few minutes the earthen wall marking the northern edge of camp loomed before them. The air was filled with the smell of freshly churned soil. The sounds of someone or something stumbling through the wheat stalks maybe a hundred feet out in the darkness could be heared.
Constan sighed, “That sounds like a single damned stumbling about in the wheat field.”
“You told me to wake you at the sign of any disturbance.” Athos replied nervously.
Constan placed a hand on Athos’ shoulder to reassure him, “Ye did fine, lad. Let’s listen for a time and make sure there isn’t more of them about.”
Over time, the sound of the shambling person, damned, or whatever it was stumbling through the overippened stalks of wheat slowly faded away. As the two men lay on the earthen mound listening for the slightest hint of movement from beyond, they succumbed to their exhaustion and fell asleep.
Constan held Amata’s hand and she cried out in pain. A midwife stood over her and said, “This is it, push.”
Amata, her sweat soaked hair stuck to her brow and neck whispered, “He’s not coming.”
“He’ll come, the next time you feel the sharp pain, push.” Counseled the midwife.
Another wave of pain washed over Amata. The pain forced her to cry out in agony. She tightened her grip on Constan’s hand as she threw the last of her strength into one final push. She felt the life within her shift and begin to move toward her legs, “He’s coming!” She exclaimed.
Constan, released Amata’s hand and kneeled down in front of her, prepared to greet his son as he emerged into the world, “I can see the top of his head.” Constan said.
Amata paused for a moment and took a deep breath, “Don’t quit, keep pusing.” Barked the midwife tersily into her ear. Amata flashed the midwife a glare, gritted her teeth, and pushed.
Constan gently held the baby as he emerged into the world. Smiling he said, “It’s a boy!”
The boy’s eyes snapped open and met his father’s for the first time. The two milky white orbs glared at him, filled with hunger. The infant snarled, twisted, and grabbed Constan’s left hand with his two tiny ones and sank his teeth into Constan’s thumb.
Constan screamed as he was shaken awake. “Sir, are you ok?” Athos asked, worry tinged his voice.
Constan breathing hard and sweating replied, “Aye, ‘twas just a dream thank God.”
Constan whiped the sweat from his brow and looked around. The camp continued to slumber in darkness. “Shall we get them up?” Athos asked.
Constan pondered the question for several moments before replying, “No. Let them sleep a bit longer. They have several very hard days in front of them and will need their rest.”
They climbed to the top of the earthen wall and looked out into the darkness for a while. A third figure joined them. Athos turned to the newcomer and asked, “Couldn’t sleep either?”
Baltazar nodded slowly and said, “No, bad dreams.”
“You too, lad?” Constan said.
“Ironically, I dreamed about you.” Baltazar said.
Butterflies erupted into Constan’s stomach as he said, “What did ye dream of?”
“We were fighting the damned. Tall buildings loomed above us as we fought in a city’s streets. Though surrounded we seemed to be holding our own, until a child slipped through your defenses and bit you.” Baltazar said.
“Bit me?” Constan asked.
Baltazar nodded slowly, “Aye, you were clearly bit.”
“What else do ye remember?” Constan asked.
“That was all. According to Liana, I woke up screaming at that point. I don’t remember anything further.”
Constan took a deep breath, “An ill omen.”
Athos and Baltazar crossed themselves in unison before Athos said, “Indeed. Let us hope it is not portents of events to come.”
Constan turned to Baltazar and said, “Ye should try to get more sleep, lad. We’ll be waking the men soon.”
Baltazar chuckled lightly, “If dreams like that is what awaits me when I slumber this night, I think I’ll stay awake.”
“A valid point. Ye should join us then and learn. We’re going to meet with Hovig and Damir to develop our marching plan for the up coming day.” Constan said.
“Thank you, sir, I appreciate that.” Baltazar replied.
Constan turned to Athos and ordered, “Wake Hovig and Damir, and have them join us in my pavilion.”
“At once, sir.” Athos replied.
Constan walked with Baltazar back to his command pavilion, “So how are things going with Liana lad?”
Baltazar smiled, “Couldn’t be better. I think when we get back to Antioch we are going to follow in yours and Amata’
s footsteeps and be wed.”
Constan smiled broadly and slapped Baltazar on the back, “Congratulations! I’m glad things are going so well for ye.”
“Thanks. It’s nice having her along, but I worry about her being here.” Baltazar said.
“Don’t. She’s become a fine warrior in her own right and would skin us both if we tried to leave her behind.” Constan said with a mischevious glint in his eye.
Baltazar laughed softly, “Aye, as good a warrior as I am, I would rue the day that I faced the likes of her in combat.”
The two men reached Constan’s command tent. The two guards, recognizing him, let him through without a word. Constan’s pavilion consisted of two tents. One for his sleeping quarters, office area, and large meeting room called the war room. Within the war room was a beaten up old campaign table whose parts could be broken down and carried by individual men on their backs. The second tent housed his personal guards drawn from the 1st Kentarchia.
Constan picked up the jug of wine sititng in the middle of that table and poured himself and Baltazar a cup. They tapped the cups together as Constan said, “To the adventure of marriage.”
Baltazar responded to Constan’s toast, “To the adventure of marriage.”
The two men downed their cups in a single gulp. They set their cups back down on the table and Constan poured them a second round. Before he could finish Hovig walked in and said, “I hope you’ll be pouring me one of those, too?”
Constan looked up and saw both Hovig and Damir enter the tent followed by Athos, “Aye, gather round and let’s have a drink while we strategize our next step.”
Constan poured each of the newcomers a cup of wine and then asked, “Damir, how are your men? Are they ready to ride?”
“Yes, the extended rest has helped them recover from the engagement. We have a problem though. If we encounter a similar circumstance again, we will not be able to lead the damned away as effectively.” Damir replied.
“What can we do to fix that?” Constan asked.
“We need to replenish our arrows.” Damir replied.
Constan, his brow furrowed as he thought, pondered the quesiton for several moments, “There are no Imperial supply depots between here and Jerusalem. There aren’t even any nearby that we could seek out. We are deep within the borders of the Empire.”
Damir nodded, “Aye, that’s the problem.”
Constan let out his breath slowly, “You’ll have to go back to the ships in Joppa and get more arrows. We left plenty behind that couldn’t be carried.”
“Won’t that leave your Skutatoi blind?” Damir asked.
“Aye it will. Leave fifty of your men behind to serve as scouts and take the rest of your survivors back to Joppa to refill your quivers with arrows. If ye move quickly, ye should be able to catch back up with us, by the time we reach Nashon.”
Damir stood to attention, saluted Constan and said, “At once, sir.” Before spinning on his heels and leaving the room.
Constan turned to Hovig and Athos and said, “Based on the information that Gor gave us we should be able to reach Nashon by the time the sun sets tonight if we get them up now.”
Hovig nodded, “Aye, I think there is little risk in using the road at this point as there are no major settlements between here and Nashon.”
“I agree, the time we will save is well worth the risk. Wake the men, and have them break their fast. We need to be marching within the hour. Dismissed.”
Both Droungarios, Dekanos Baltazar, and Kentarches Athos came to attention, saluted, and said in unison, “At once, sir.”
The two officers and Baltazar turned on their heels and left the tent. Constan filled his cup with wine, and leaned up against the table. Looking up at the ceiling he raised his cup in the air and said, “God, if ye have it within ye power, please watch over us and keep the minions of Satan from our path this day.”
Constan then downed the cup in one gulp, and left the tent. Outside the men of the 5th Babylon were waking, and throwing fuel onto their fires to cook their meal. Constan slowly walked up and down the rows of men eating their meal and preparing for the march. He returned the greetings given to him with a nod or a smile. He also said words of encouragement as needed, and occasionally sat with the men and exchanged crude jokes.
I really miss being a Dekanos. He thought to himself as he walked toward Viribus. The horse whinnied in greeting as he caught site of Constan. Constan smiled and scratched the horse between his eyes. Viribus’ eyes clouded over with ecstasy at the touch, “Ready for what will hopefully be an easier ride than our last?”
Viribus ignored Constan’s statement and began poking his hand with his muzzle, “Hungry are ye?” Constan smiled and produced an apple from his saddle bag and held it out for the horse. The animal very gently plucked the fruit from his outstretched palm and crunched on it contentedly. As the horse finished its snack, Constan swung himself up into the saddle. I could get used to never having to actually walk anywhere.
Taking the reins into his hand, he directed Viribus to the front of the column that was forming up inside the camp. Already the tent in his pavilion had been struck, and the individual parts where being distributed to the men of the 1st Kentarchia as Kentarches Zinvor directed the effort. As part of the prestige of being the first unit in the Tourma, the members of the 1st Kentarchia were responsible for carrying the commander’s pavilion in their packs when marching without a baggage train.
The pavilion was designed to break down into pieces small enough to fit in a man’s pack. Like the 1st cohort in the Tourma’s predecessor the Legion, the 1st Kentarchia consisted of the most skilled and physically fit soldiers in the unit. Members of the 1st Kentarchia were given preference in all things. They earned that preference through their extra skills and drive. A Skutatoi’s kit, including armor, weapons, bedroll, and rations weighed around eighty pounds. When you added in an extra ten or twenty pounds for a pavilion piece, it took a hearty man to bare that weight and walk twenty-five miles a day.
At the head of the column, Athos, on his dappled white mount, rode on Constan’s left, and Droungarios Hovig, took command of the column’s rear. They marched without incident for several hours as they trekked across field after field, most of them planted with wheat. As the morning turned to afternoon, a series of hills began to loom on the eastern horizon.
Constan pointed to the hills and said, “Those must be the hills that Gor spoke about.”
Athos nodded, “Aye if he is correct, we’ll find Nashon at the foot of them.”
“It will be nice to sleep in a real bed tonight.” Constan said.
“You slept in a real bed last night.” Athos muttered under his breath.
Constan heard Athos mutter and chuckled, “Aye, but when ye get to be my age you appreciate the difference between a cot and a bed.”
“Here’s hoping I get to live long enough to care about such things.” Athos replied.
“Amen to that.” Constan responded.
The march continued without incident until the 5th Babylon found themselves in front of Nashon. The hamlet consisted of four large Inns, and forty or so mud brick huts. The Inns were not individual buildings but rather small complexes. Each consisted of a main building with tavern, common room, and individual guest rooms within, a separate stable for guest’s horses, or whatever else they brought along on four legs, and a kitchen. The kitchen was separate from the main building due to the extreme heat experienced most of the year.
The inn’s main buildings were of stout stone construction. Like many of the buildings constructed from local stone in this part of the world, they had a tannish red color to them. The outbuildings, like the forty or so huts, were made from mud bricks.
As the 5th Babylon came within ear shot of Nashon, several damned began lurching in the direction of their column, “Looks like we have a little house cleaning to do before we can move in for the night.” Constan said.
Athos nodded, “Aye, should we form a ba
ttle line and ring the dinner bell for the bastards?”
“Aye lad, and be loud about it, but not so loud that you bring more in from a distance. Let’s get this done and over with in one fight.” Constan said.
Baltazar, who was marching nearby, joined the conversation. “Some of them will be stuck inside the buildings and huts. I’ll form up a team to go building by building and clean them out after the battle.”
“Good plan. While you are doing that, I’ll have the rest of the men build a marching fort around the entire hamlet.” Constan said. He turned back in his saddle to look back, saw Hovig riding up and added, “Has anyone had word of Damir yet?”
Hovig, shook his head, “No sir, no sign of him yet.”
Constan sighed, “Well there is any number of reasons for him to have been delayed.” He turned back toward Nashon and said, “Let’s get on with it.”
Athos turned his horse to face the column and yelled, “You heard the man, form battle line!”
The damned arrived just as the first few Kontoubernions formed up into the battle line. Arriving in ones and twos, the line was able to quickly dispatch the damned without incident. A few of the scouts rode through the hamlet banging their Spatha’s on their shields to draw out the damned. Several hundred poured out of the inns and gave chase to the riders.
The scouts, then turned back toward the 5th Babylon’s battle line and rode just fast enough to keep a comfortable distance ahead of the damned as they gave chase. It had the same effect as waving a piece of meat in front of a hound that you wanted to follow you. Constan, astride Viribus, yelled, “Create a gap to let the two scouts ride through, and then snap it shut.”
Zinvor yelled, “You heard the man, first column retreat behind the remainder of the Kentarchia, and let them ride through.”
The Kentarches of the 2nd Kentarchia gave the same order and removed his tenth column to form a gap in the line wide enough for a horse to ride through. The two scouts passed through the line without incident and the columns reformed before the damned arrived. Like the damned of Joppa, they did not mindlessly fling themselves onto the end of the 5th Babylon’s Spathas but used rudimentary strategy and tactics in an attempt to breach the line and gain a meal.
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