The Antonine Romans and The Golden Torque

The Antonine Romans and The Golden Torque

By

Andrew Boyce

Description:

AD 144. The Antonine Wall in Western Caledonia, modern day Scotland, has been standing for two years. Centurion Andronicus and Optio Scrivinus have recently been assigned to the Roman Balmuildy Fort and are attempting to improve the men's fitness and discipline.Soon both the old and the new world collide. The Romans find themselves amongst the native tribal chiefs of Jamis, Aritan and Callun. In peace or war can either side survive? Please leave a nice review! A second Novella to follow! All of the Novellas can be standalone.

Chapter 1.
Centurion Andronicus felt that he had become a little hunched due to his latest posting. This seemed to be confirmed by a cold gust of wind which went through his soul, causing his shoulders to curl inwards once again. Indeed the cold, wet weather of this north-west frontier of the Roman Empire was enough to shorten any man's height, he thought, even a man of ten years service, such as he was.
This section of the Antonine Wall was built two summers ago in 142AD after various battles between the Romans and Caledonians and since then there had been only a few skirmishes in this area of Western Caledonia. Centurion Andronicus had arrived here three weeks ago and soon was the most senior soldier here, as the senior officers had been called away on secret orders. He wondered if there could be any trouble while they were away, as the scouts had reported that there was much discussions going on in the nearby settlements about growing anger of being ruled by Rome.
His one comfort was the Balmuildy Fort baths and as he went through the doorway, his shoulders uncurled with the instant heat. He nodded to his second in charge Optio Scrivinus, then eyed the jug of warm wine in the corner. At last he could have a few moments peace and after pouring himself a generous amount, he made his way to sit by Scrivinus.
Optio Scrivinus was a good man, a grizzled veteran of nearly twenty five years service, compared to Centurion Andronicus's ten years. He had wondered about retirement but he had served with this Centurion for ten years and they worked well together, all of which seemed better than hanging about the village he came from, on the edge of Rome.
Optio Scrivinus clenched his first. "This bloody Javelin Report is making me mad! How am I to reach a figure of how many javelins we have when half the unit is spread out across the length of this freezing country!"
"I don't know. But you usually find a way. Just make sure we're not all standing here with nothing in our hands the next time these hairy barbarians decide to attack." Centurion Andronicus drank some of the warm wine, then continued. "Bloody country! I wish I was retiring!"
"Don't wish your life away. I'm not so sure I want to finish up." said the Optio putting down his waxed tablet. "Besides, who else could you trust to do all your bloody administration!" Both men laughed and they started drinking more of the warm wine. They had tasted better in their time, but this would do for now.
Outside the bath house, Legionary Nastin walked past in his duty patrol around the perimeter of the camp. Hearing the laughing from inside, he sneered. He hated the Centurion and his Optio, the sooner they were gone, the better.
"Do you think there will be any trouble, Scrivinus?" Scrivinus thought for a moment. "If our leaders can't get an agreement with the locals, then yes. And if our leaders are not back here in time, you know very well who is going to have to deal with it all?"
"Us." Andronicus drained his cup. "That's more of a problem than your Javelin report." Andronicus let the heat take over his body for a final few moments. "I had better take one last look out over the parapet tonight, to sort out the next watch and to see how things look with my own eyes. Leave that bloody Javelin report for now. I've got a feeling that might be the least of our worries."
As Andronicus stepped out of the bathhouse, he expected the cold wind to make its presence with him once again. To his surprise, the weather had calmed and he made his way up to the parapet. At the top he looked out onto the open fields of grass and the edges of the forests beyond. He put on his helmet as it was not unknown for a soldier to be killed by a single, unexpected arrow, thumping into flesh, ending the silence and ending a life.
He thought he saw someone move by the trees and his eyes fixed, staring intently for the merest movement. His pulse quickened. But no further movement came and so he turned his attention to the changing of the guards, with the next watch due to begin.

Jamis stood by the edge of the trees. Although it was the dead of night, the moon in the clouds picked out the fort ahead. He watched a soldier on the palisade put on his helmet and he continued watching as the soldier looked out towards him. For a moment, Jamis wondered if the soldier had seen him, as if he was staring straight at him and he tried to stay as still as possible. After what seemed an age, the soldier turned and walked away and Jamis felt a great wave of relief.
His relief was short-lived as his thoughts turned back to two summers ago when a raiding party of Romans killed almost everyone in his village, whilst he was with friends in another nearby settlement. The dead included his father who was the tribal leader, devoted to his family and tribe, brave in battle and in death. As a result, Jamis was the last of his family and the new tribal leader and he had moved with the remaining survivors to the last westward settlement several miles away, long past the forest.
Jamis wore the golden torque of tribal leader that once belonged to his father and which he had tucked away within his tunic for now, in case any light shone his position to the fort. He came to the edge of the trees tonight to try think out his plan. How could he obtain his revenge? How could he make sense of his life? As he touched the golden torque, he felt he was no closer to either of these questions.
Being a young fit man of seventeen, son of a tribal chief, this should have been the time of his life. He would have been enjoying the hunting parties where he and his friends, together with his elders, would set off in the early mornings with their dogs, looking for deer and wild boar.
At regular intervals they would stop and take time to eat and drink, which Jamis enjoyed almost as much as the hunt. They would laugh, sometimes until it hurt, ribbing each other about their hunting styles, fitness and appetites.
He thought back with fondness to the time a wild boar stood and stared at the circle of hunters, for what seemed like an age, but would only have been moments. Then the animal suddenly decided to make a run for it, heading straight towards Jamis. All the circle watched intently as Jamis drew back his spear and fired, the spear flying through the air, striking the boar above the eyes, braking its speed until it collapsed near his feet. Jamis looked round the rest of the circle, seeing the admiration on their faces at his hunting skill.
As Jamis took a final look at the fort in front of him, he thought about the circle of that wonderous hunting day. For many it would be their final hunt, the hunter turned to hunted, slain like the noble boar, in the end by Roman javelin and Roman sword.

Chapter 2.
Jamis walked steadily through the forest, back towards the settlement. Although it was dark, the pathway underfoot was easy for him to follow, having hunted there many times before. He thought about the fort he had gone to watch this evening. It would appear that little was going on there. At most Jamis estimated there to be around eighty men, similar to the amount in his settlement. If revenge for the killed was to be achieved, then this was their best chance to do so.
With this thought going through his mind, Jamis entered the edge of the settlement and as expected Aritan was waiting for him. Aritan was the leader of this settlement and it was here that Jamis and the other handful of survivors had fled to, two years ago.
Aritan, now in his seventies, was every way an older version of Jamis. Both were tall, fit men from a family of leaders. Aritan had asked Jamis to observe the fort, to try reach a decision as to what to do next.
Jamis explained to Aritan that all seemed quiet at the fort and that there seemed to be around eighty men, similar to their settlement. Aritan sat in silence contemplating this information, looking into the fire as if it was a connection to all his ancestors before.
"As you know, Jamis, our men took the decision that we would fight. It is what we do and it is what all our fathers before us would have done. Our way of life is over here. We have one last battle where we will either win or die. Should we live, in victory or defeat, we are then to move northwards to Callun's lands. We will have played our part and the future will be determined by the men in power, such as Callun."
Jamis nodded as Aritan spoke. He had nothing but complete respect for Aritan, a wise man who had seen it all in his lifetime and whose words were to be respected. Jamis had known Aritan all of his life, almost a second father and he reflected with sadness how life had become.
"I will not force everyone to fight. We have fought bravely in the past and still we lost, whenever there has been encounters. For the men who want to go northwards without a fight, they can do so and perhaps the rest will join them there, should we live another battle. I will observe the fort one last time and if nothing more has changed, then we will prepare to attack."
Jamis listened intently and was at a loss as to what to say. Sensing this, Aritan decided to continue.
"When I decide, those that have decided to fight will come with me before first light and we will travel to the edge of the forest. Then, in the morning when the gates of the fort are open and the soldiers are marching and training, we will attack as one. It is all that we can do."
"It is sad that it has come to this." was all that Jamis could think to say. He could think of no great speech, one that would be worthy of the son of a tribal leader. He had though decided on a different course from Aritan, a course where he felt he could honour his father completely. This would be an eye for an eye, kill the Roman leader to avenge the death of the Tribal leader. In other words, Jamis knew what he had to do: the Centurion must die.

Chapter 3.
Centurion Andronicus strode through the open fort gate towards the marching ground. He enjoyed this early morning routine of marching drill, giving him the opportunity to see his Century in full. With his vine stick tucked under his arm, he made his way towards his second in command Optio Scrivinus, who as usual was smartly turned out.
Optio Scrivinus saluted. "We will do what is ordered and at every command we will be ready, sir!" Centurion Andronicus returned the salute. "Optio Scrivinus, begin the drill."
"First Century, Right Turn! On my command, march the path around the square! First Century, Advance!"
With years of training and discipline, the First Century marched as one, resplendent in shining armour and shining helmets. The red tunics and red plumes on their helmets provided an impressive stream of colour and all in all, made for the spectacle which always struck the Centurion, as it must do any enemy of Rome.
"The men are a fine sight, Optio."
"Yes, sir! As fine as any Century in the Empire, sir!"
"Indeed, Optio. Call the men to Quick March!"
"First Century, Quick March!"
At once, the dust around the ankles of the legionaries rose further towards their knees as the pace quickened and the Centurion could feel the rumble through his boots. A fit army was needed in order that they could deal with any eventuality, whether that be to advance, retreat or fight. Even their everyday lives required this fitness, whether that be cutting down timber, building forts or roads. The tribes in the south had been pacified and romanised with the blood and sweat of the soldiers, firstly on the battlefield and laterly by the building of the fine villas, dwellings and roads. Blood and sweat again, just in a different form.
"Keep up at the back!" Andronicus lashed out with his vine stick, catching legionary Nastin sorely on his lower leg. Bloody cheek, thought Nastin, bloody Centurion wouldn't be able to keep up this pace.
Andronicus watched the legionaries quick march past him. He didn't like lashing out with his vine stick but he had seen in the past how an ill-disciplined century could quickly become a liability in battle, resulting in death or even worse, defeat. Andronicus smiled to himself. Surely nothing was worse than death, most citizens would think. But not to a Centurion - the course of the battle would depend on the legionaries following their Centurion's orders, to stick together as a unit. If the whole was broken, death and defeat would follow and when the military history is written, who would want to be seen as the ones that caused the sorry ending, forever dammed as the defeated.
And so the crack of the vine stick continued, enough to keep the discipline but not over-done as to breed the men's contempt. A contemptuous century would not give every fibre of their body to their Centurion and it is that final fibre that may be needed to win the battle in the end. A fine balancing act indeed.
Andronicus, at a quieter time, had wrote down some words that had come to him about being a Centurion:
'The vine stick balancing in your hand, don't hit too hard, don't hit too soft. Don't use too much, don't use too little. The margin of victory or defeat, a balancing act too close to call. Either written as a hero, or the one that would fall.'
"First Century, Halt!" bellowed Andronicus. As one, the unit stopped, the discipline showed the Centurion had complete control.
"First Century, form Testudo!" shouted Andronicus. Beyond Andronicus and Scrivinus, the front ranks adjusted their shields in an instant, to leave no shield gaps between. Then the rear ranks raised their shields above. As if a mythological beast had been summoned, a solid creature emerged, an impenetrable lethal animal stinging sharp sword barbs to its victims.
The world had never seen such an advanced army, kitted out as one, with techniques to out-manoeuvre the fiercest of foes.
Andronicus looked on with pride in his men and for a moment he could not believe the situation he found himself in. He remembered watching his father return to the farm, his father marching up the track in full Centurion uniform for one last time, his battles won and retirement earned. Andronicus would hear of battles and their tactics whilst they worked the fields and it was not long until Andronicus found himself walking down the path to seek his own military career.
Back in the present, Centurion Andronicus gave his next order.
"First Century, Cease Testudo! Very good, men! Remember, when we fight as one, no-one can defeat us! Hold the line and we win! Short swords jab and kills the enemy! Carry on this way and history will remember us!"
Within the trees, unseen and still, Aritan listened to these Latin commands, unable to understand their language but their effect was clearly understood. What he saw was the finest army the world had ever seen and yet he wished for all the world, that it had not come here.
Until the Romans had come, life had been good for Aritan and his people. Warriors they may be, but they had become skilled farmers, too. Working the land, their crops grew and were harvested and their livestock cared for with skill. Traders from foreign lands of Gaul and Greece would visit, with good business to be done on both sides.
Aritan smiled as he remembered his great friend Boridan, Jamis's father. He remembered Boridan's amazed face when he first saw the shining golden Celtic torque that the Greek trader Demius had amongst his goods. Demius had a client in mind for the golden torque, a wealthy senator in Rome and was loathe to sell it to Boridan.
Boridan however, had other ideas. He wanted this torque which he would pass onto his son and in time to Jamis's son and so on. Gold never seemed to lose its lustre and Boridan imagined that the torque would look the same two thousand years from now.
Eventually, Demius came up with a price and although he was reluctant to sell, he knew that future trade in this area would be so adversely affected if an agreement could not be struck. The vast amount of Celtic coins and fine jewellery that Boridan came up with however, was enough to quash the image of his wealthy Roman senator client handing over neat bags of freshly minted silver.
Sitting watching the Roman soldiers now practicing their sword jabbing, Aritan's thoughts turned to a darker nature when he visited Boridan's village. He remembered the day, how the mounted Roman raiding party came to the village, a day that would forever change their lives.
It had begun with the children running into the village, screaming that the Romans were coming. The men quickly armed and were ready to face their Roman invaders.
For some moments the two sides were silent, each wondering what would happen next. Then one of the Romans spoke, loudly and clearly. No matter how loudly or how clearly this was, it would not be understood, as no-one that faced the soldiers that day spoke latin. Only Jamis had learned latin, having learned from Demius the trader, that stayed with them as a guest sometimes, but Jamis was away visiting friends in another village.
When no reply was given, the soldier repeated his words. Again, no response. An order was shouted and the soldiers unsheathed their swords. The sharp rasp of their swords being unsheathed took the tension to a different level and when the order to advance was made and taken, some of the villagers could take this no more and started their run, long swords and battle cries closing the gap.
More villagers joined the run, but all were cut down by the Romans on their horses, their swords making easy work on their prey down below. Fires burned down the dwellings and as the Romans wheeled away, a scene of devestation was left behind.
Aritan closed his eyes to the practicing Roman swordplay in front of him. His mind went over the last few moments of Boridan's life. Of Boridan taking off his golden torque, making Aritan promise to pass it on to Jamis. Of Jamis returning to find his father dead and the village destroyed. Of life changed forever.
Aritan opened his eyes again and watched an officer hitting one of the legionaries with his vine stick. We are living in strange times, thought Aritan, strange times indeed.
It was Optio Scrivinus that was wacking his vine stick off the legs of one of the legionaries and that legionary happened to be once again Legionary Nastin.
"For Jupiter's sake! How many times have I got to tell you, Nastin!" shouted an exasperated Scrivinus.
"We jab with our short swords! We're not the barbarians waving our swords all over the place!"
Nastin felt he had just about had enough of these officers. Almost all of the other men seemed to get along well with Centurion Andonicus and Optio Scrivinus, but they were not the ones that the officers almost always did not pick on.
Nastin felt that he not had an easy life. Coming from the poor back streets of Rome, he was always trying to scrape by, stealing food as and where he could, sometimes being caught by shopkeepers. Shopkeepers, officers, they're all the same, thought Nastin. Given a bit of power, they'll find someone to wield it against.
A thought occurred to Scrivinus that made him smile. I should be beating dough, not legionaries! The fifth son of a bakery shop in a village outside Rome, there was simply not enough business to support the whole family. With Uncle Felix doing well in the legions, a good word was put in for Scrivinus and he soon found himself part of the Second Legion.
Scrivinus found that he enjoyed army life and had surprised himself at how good he was able to handle a sword, javelin and combat, let alone seeming to have the knack to be a leader of men. Having previously taken to deal with the administrative duties of the family bakery, when the Optio position became available he jumped at the chance to add the business of reports and documents, to his repertoire.
Working with Centurion Andronicus had its pros and cons. On the positive, Andronicus largely left Scrivinus to his own devices and Scrivinus liked this, able to get on with all the reports and scrolls that helped shape and structure the Roman army. On the negative, Andronicus placed a great deal of emphasis on physical fitness. Whilst Scrivinus knew this was important, the broad six foot shape and structure of Scrivinus meant that fitness didn't come as easy to him, unlike the smaller naturally fit frame of Andronicus. This was especially so with Scrivinus's fondness of food, probably a drawback of growing up in a bakery shop.
"Your attention, men!" bellowed Optio Scrivinus. "Run back to the fort entrance then line up in two lines with your javelins!"
As the men started their run back to the fort, Scrivinus ran too. He was pleased to find that he could keep up with them. Perhaps Andronicus's keenness on physical fitness was having an impact on Scrivinus, after all.
"Front row! Prepare javelins!" The front row stepped four paces forward and stood in a line waiting for the next command.
"Front row! Release javelins!" As one, the front row threw their javelins with tremendous force. It was clear that these legionaries had practiced this for many years, as the sky went black with a deadly shower of wooden shafts and iron tips.
Scrivinus liked the javelin. The pilum was a good weapon to have, with the iron tip and iron shank giving the weight to penetrate the flesh, able to get through the armour of the shocked soldier, or render a shield useless with a bent pilum protruding from it. The tip and shank were attached to a long wooden shaft, allowing the pilum to fly through the air, shorter distances with the heavy version or longer distances with the lighter.
Today, Scrivinus's legionaries were wielding the lighter version and the pila filled the sky, coming down seventy metres away, near to the forest edge.
Aritan watched from the edge of the trees as the black cloud of pila drew closer, landing in noisy thumps ahead of him. Aritan heard the officer shout more commands and within moments the second black cloud descended. Aritan took one last look at the soldiers in the distance before turning and making his way back, perhaps the next time he saw these soldiers, he thought, would be to fight them.



Chapter 4.
The horse and cart was struggling to make it up the slope. Demius the trader sat with his ex-gladiator german bodyguard Maxis on the cart bench.
"Come on, horse." said Demius soothingly as he gently tapped on the reins. "You've come this far. Just a little more to go."
Maxis looked across at Demius and started speaking in his native tongue, which Demius half understood.
"You're too soft on the horse. Do it like this, see." Maxis grabbed the reins and with a firm crack of the reins, he shouted "Ya! Ya!"
The horse responded and the cart jolted forwards. It looked as if the slope would be conquered, after all.
As the horse and cart made it over the brow of the hill, the first settlement came into view. This was where Jamis stayed and Demius looked forward to selling many goods from his well stacked cart. So good was the trade and friendship between Demius and Jamis, the trade usually resulted in an overnight stay, with fine food and drink, at least that was the case when Jamis's father Boridan was alive.
Jamis heard the approaching horse and cart and stepped out outside. He was on one hand, delighted to see his friends but on the other hand, his heart sank as he knew the first part of his plan to kill the Centurion was a step closer.
"Demius and Maxis! It is good to see you! How have you been?"
"We are very well, Jamis! Business is very good! On the one hand, I sell to the locals. And on the other hand, I sell to the Roman soldiers. It seems that being in the middle, I can't lose!"
Jamis was struck by the coincidence of comparing one hand to the other and knew that he had to put on his greatest performance in order for his friends not to see his pain, only his pleasure.
"Please come inside and make yourself comfortable. My home is your home, as always. We will have a long night of wine and food ahead of us and you can tell me about your latest travels. I will be with you shortly after I have seen my neighbour, whom I have some business to settle with first. And then, the serious drinking begins!"
Jamis beckoned Demius and Maxis inside and they were soon making themselves at home, sitting by the fire with the first of the wine.
"I'll be back soon, friends!" shouted Jamis as enthusiastically as possible and as he shut the door behind him, his forced smile instantly ceased, as he had other matters on his mind.
He soon found himself at the door of his neighbour and his friend since childhood, Angelis, one of Aritan's daughters.
"May I come in, Angelis?"
"Of course, Jamis. How are you?"
Jamis smiled at Angelis. Her intelligent mind, long dark hair and striking features were a welcome sight in this time of trouble.
"Demius and Maxis have just arrived. I'll give them a good feast of food and wine. I would like them to have a long restful sleep after that. They look tired after their long journey as if they have not slept properly for days. Do you have something that I can give them to aid their sleep?"
Angelis looked intently at Jamis. "What is the real reason, Jamis?"
"Well, they look so tired. They need a good rest."
"How long have we known each other, Jamis? All our lives. I know when you are not telling me the whole truth. Why do you want Demius and Maxis to have a long sleep?"
Jamis thought about continuing with his line of reason, but he knew that would be futile. Angelis knew him better than anyone.
Jamis paused for a moment to collect his thoughts. Could he really tell Angelis his plan to avenge his father's death? He had told no-one and he wasn't even sure he would have the courage to see this through. Before he could think anymore, he found himself committed to telling Angelis the truth.
"I'm going to take Demius's hat and cloak, his horse and cart and drive into the centre of the Balmuildy Roman Fort as a trader. Then I'm going to shout for the Centurion to face me in a one on one battle to avenge my father's death."
"Are you mad?"
"Quite possibly. But this is the course I have decided.
Just as Jamis could not hide the truth from Angelis, similarly Angelis knew that Jamis could not be argued with.
"Promise me you will think very carefully about whether to proceed with this plan. The Romans are here to stay. What is the point of you, Aritan and the rest of the men losing your lives?
"I promise to think very carefully."
Angelis left the room and returned with a small glass vase full of powdered herbs in water.
"Add half to each of their wine. It will keep them asleep for several hours until they are woken."
Angelis handed Jamis the vase and Jamis was struck that this could be the last time he would see Angelis. He remembered how they used to run, how they used to laugh and how they used to talk. If times were different perhaps this is to whom he would marry.
But times were different and this plan of action is what he knew he had to follow.
His mind raced back to one time when as teenagers they were both running at full speed through the forest, laughing and talking, as they went. Suddenly, Jamis tripped and he fell headlong, end over end. As he recovered on the forest floor, a long open wound of never ending blood poured from his leg. Angelis, however stemmed the flow of blood with a cloth, together with some herbal remedy she produced from her bag.
It was strange, thought Jamis, that no matter how times change, the more remains the same, as here once again Angelis came forth with her herbs.
"Thank you, Angelis." And as Jamis began to turn, his memories of Angelis were encapsulated in one moment. "For everything."
Jamis did not turn back and was soon back in his home. He quickly prepared three jugs of wine. The first jug was for himself, which he had watered down considerably. The second and third jug were for Demius and Maxis and to each of these two jugs he added half of the herbal mixture. Scrambling about for some food, Jamis soon had a tray ready full of food to go with the three jugs of wine.
"Gentlemen! I bring more wine and some food. To make this easy, I have a jug for each of us!"
Jamis handed out the two jugs and it was not long before the contents were nearly done.
A tired Demius looked up from his wine.
"Would it be alright if we dealt with business tomorrow, rather than tonight, Jamis? I think I am nearly sleeping."
Demius looked over to his companion Maxis. The effect of the herbs and wine had taken its full toll on Maxis and he lay completely oblivious, his breathing becoming increasingly deeper.
"Before I go to sleep Jamis, I have a gift for you."
Demius reached into his sack and brought out a brightly coloured necklace. It was silver in colour interspaced with red and yellow glass.
"This is called an amulet. It is a piece of jewellery that aims to give you some protection against danger, evil and disease. Just a little gift from us, to wish you well, Jamis." Demius carefully handed over the necklace to Jamis and Jamis put it on.
"Thank you, Demius. I like the look of that and it is given by good friends."
Demius looked over again to Maxis, who suddenly let out a loud snore. "I think I'm not far behind my friend Maxis here and so if it is alright with you, I think I'll say goodnight and settle back. Goodnight, Jamis."
"Goodnight, Demius." Within moments, Demius too had joined Maxis in a deep sleep, the power of Angelis's herbal mixture and wine taking hold of body and spirit.
Jamis reached over to the corner of the room and opened a sack to reveal his golden torque. He then put his hand back in the sack and took out a waxed tablet and stylus that came from a Roman fort, which were items that Jamis had bought from Demius on an earlier visit.
He took up the stylus and began to write.
"Dear Demius and Maxis. I have decided to buy your horse and cart, along with Demius's hat and cloak. In payment, here is the golden torque. You are my good friends and you are with me always in the amulet I now wear round my neck. Jamis."
Jamis left the waxed tablet and golden torque in front of Demius and then put on Demius's hat and cloak. Lastly he placed his sword into its sword belt around his waist and took one last look at his friends before turning away to the dark outside and the awaiting horse and cart.
Gently he approached the horse and patted its side. Being a skilled horseman, the journey along the track to the Roman Fort at Balmuildy would not be a problem. Adeptly he manoeuvred the horse and cart out of his yard and onto the track. Jamis was on his way and Angelis watched from her window as Jamis passed by, riding out of their dwellings and possibly riding out of her life forever.


Chapter 5.
Centurion Andonicus was in his quarters. It had been a long day. He took off his helmet, gratefully undoing the ties that had been digging into his face of late, taking off the ornate breastplate and placing his sword and sword belt on one of his chairs.
He decided to pour himself a generous glass of warm wine and sank down on his chair. Optio Scrivinus and the two clerks had been dismissed for the night and Andonicus looked at the remaining two items on his desk needing his attention.
Uppermost in his mind was the dispatch he had received today stating that the senior officers from his Balmuildy Fort would still be absent due to ongoing negotiations with the northern tribes. This meant that Andonicus remained in charge of this Fort and he found this thought quite daunting.
Andonicus read through the dispatch again, his fingers stroking the seal. Sometimes he wished that he had never left the family farm. Life could have been a lot simpler as a farmer, he thought. Perhaps high office and responsibility was not as great as he once thought it would be.
He decided that the best he could do in these circumstances would be to keep the men as busy as possible. Thinking this through, he thought as early as possible a start to the day for the men's duties such as foraging and timber cutting, would be preferable, followed by drill and battle practice both morning and night. Together with some evening duties of make do and mend of kit, Andronicus felt this structured routine would keep all the men occupied.
Lastly Andronicus turned to the documents relating to one of the soldiers that had died of natural causes earlier in the week. Andronicus checked the information that Scrivinus had set out for him. From a soldier's pay, many deductions were made and itemised, including food, equipment and funeral club amounts.
All these items were documented and as Andronicus double checked the totals, he found that all seemed in order.
The soldier's will left the balance to be split between his mother and his seven tent mates. This once again pressed home to Andronicus the seriousness of his Centurion position to do his best, as for many soldiers their comrades were also regarded as their family. Centurion Andronicus stroked the seal on the despatch once more and vowed that he would do his best.
With these matters taken care of, Andronicus decided that he needed some air. Putting on his sword belt and sword, he stepped outside into the cold air, that almost took his breath away. Taking his time, he made his way up to the wooden palisade to look out over the land.
"Halt! Password required!"
"Antonine." replied Andonicus, pleased that the two guard duty soldiers were doing their job properly.
"All quiet, soldiers?"
"Yes, sir. Nothing happening here. No hairy barbarians about."
"Good." smiled Andonicus. "Carry on. Well done."
Over to one side, an unseen soldier smiled to himself about the "hairy barbarians" remark. Growing up in the backstreets of Rome, Nastin was used to creeping about unnoticed and he slipped out of the fort on his way to meet his woman.
Carefully threading his way, he soon reached the edge of the forest and continued along the edges of the paths and tracks to his usual meeting place with the woman he had been seeing. He looked forward to meeting her again and his heartbeat quickened at the thought.
Nastin couldn't believe his luck that he had met her, first of all whilst out foraging with his unit. The attraction between them had been instant and the woman would always be there at the same time as the foraging unit, herself foraging there for herbs.
Gradually they began speaking and to Nastin's great surprise, the woman could speak latin, having learned the language from someone else in her village. After a few meetings Nastin told the woman that he would be able to easily slink out of the fort at night, as he had wandered about all of Rome at night undetected, since he was a child, being largely a child of the streets.
And so Nastin found himself once more at their secret meeting place, deep within the forest.
Nastin's heartbeat quickened once more, as he decided to call out her name.
"Angelis. Are you there?"
From the shadows out stepped Angelis, her dark hair covering part of her face, that she gently then moved with her fingers, to reveal her face fully to Nastin.
"Angelis, it is so good to see you." Nastin moved in closer to and began to put his arms around her waist.
"Wait, Nastin. There is something I must talk to you about."
Nastin instinctively moved a little apart. Her wish was her command, surely she was not about to break his heart? He looked at her, this feeling like the worst moment of his life.
Angelis was ready to speak, having rehearsed what she was going to say on her way here.
"There is a man from my village, named Jamis. A good friend. He would like us to be more, but that has not been. It was him that taught me latin."
Nastin had not met this man but he hated him already. No-one, he thought, should take him away from Angelis.
"Tomorrow morning he is going to pose as a trader on a horse and cart and try gain entry into the Balmuildy Fort, your fort. Once in, he will shout for the Centurion to fight him, as he wants to avenge his father's death from a Roman raid two years earlier."
"Does he, indeed!"
"Do you love me, Nastin?"
"You know I do."
"Then I do not want him hurt. He has just gone mad. Send him away, back to his village."
Nastin himself felt that he was going mad. How could he have let his life of discipline and routine be turned upside down by meeting this woman? What are these feelings of jealousy and revenge?"
"As it happens, I am on gate duty tomorrow morning. I will see he is not harmed at the gate."
"Thank you, Nastin. Now hold me."
As Nastin held Angelis, he felt guilty for not telling Angelis the truth. It was true that he would not harm Jamis at the gate. Instead he would let Jamis through. Perhaps Jamis will fight Centurion Andonicus, wound or even kill him. No matter, Jamis will not last long inside a Roman fort. And at the very least, this will expose the Centurion and his Optio as the poor commanders they really are - imagine having a barbarian reaching the very heart of the fort! What an embarrassment for the Centurion and his Optio that would be!
Nastin smiled at the thought of the Officers impending humiliation and the dispatch of Jamis. He would explain to Angelis that he had tried his best to save Jamis, but that there was nothing he could do. Love can be the most lethal weapon of them all, mused Nastin and he held Angelis close, even closer than he had ever done before.



Chapter 6.
Aritan woke with a start. It was still dark and he lay for a moment longer, knowing that this was the day when his whole life would be changed forever. He had been ordered by the northern tribe to make an attack on the Balmuildy Fort and whether his group lived or died, to then make their way north. Talks between the northern tribes and the Romans were ongoing and this final skirmish may help seal the deal of the Romans preference for a peaceful outcome and eventual Romanisation, rather than such violent battles.
He dressed carefully, finishing off with his sword belt. He then picked up his sword and held it aloft. This was the sword handed down to him through the generations of his family, from people that had lived and died long before he was born.
There was to be no warning. He was to rouse the men and proceed through the forest and attack in the morning, when the Roman soldiers were parading in front of the fort. Aritan took one last look around his room, at his momentoes of better times, then turned around and left.
"Men! To battle! The time has come!" Aritan shouted this repeatedly.
All around him, men emerged from their dwellings, heeding his calls, ready to follow their tribal leader into battle. Through the darkness before dawn the men made their way through the settlements, heading for the forest. As they went, Aritan felt strangely calm and for some unknown reason his thoughts were that his past generations were with him and he hoped that this was so.
More and more men emerged to Aritan's call to battle. The men knew that this day may come as they had been told to be ready each day before dawn, in case Aritan should appear.
As the amount of men swelled the sodden paths and tracks, the distance to the forest became ever shorter until the last dwelling before the forest was reached.
Aritan entered Jamis's dwelling when he did not appear from the call to arms. There Aritan found the slumped snoring bodies of Demius and Maxis, surrounded in their slumber by the empty wine bottles. The sounds of sleep, like some hissing animals.
The two men were then wakened and Demius read out aloud Jamis's waxed tablet message - the trading of their horse and cart and Demius's hat and cloak, with the golden torque in return. The waxed tablet also explained that the men had been helped to sleep with some additions to the wine, to "make the trade a certainty". Aritan smiled at Jamis's humour and then felt guilty at kicking the men awake, in what he thought was their drunken stupor. Aritan rested his arm on each man's shoulder in turn by means of an apology and understanding.
"It would seem Jamis has chosen his own course of destiny, whatever that may be."
Aritan turned and as of one mind, the assembled men headed into the forest.


Chapter 7.
Jamis shivered as the horse and cart made its way along the track. He tried to think that the shivering was due to the cold dawning, rather than fear at what lay ahead for the new day.
In normal times, driving a horse and cart would be a pleasure, taking in all the sights around him and greeting people cheerily as he went by, but these were not normal times.
Jamis continued on his journey with the horse and cart taking the next bend. As they emerged from the bend, Jamis was suddenly startled. Ahead of him to the side of the track were two Roman soldiers, out on an early morning forage party for herbs, mushrooms and plants. Jamis noted they were both armed.
The taller soldier spoke first.
"Halt! What is your business?"
Jamis tried his best to appear calm and untroubled.
"My name is Petrous. I am a Greek trader on my way to the Balmuildy Fort."
The taller soldier eyed Jamis suspiciously. "You are not our usual trader."
"I know." Jamis tried to smile, but he didn't think his act was convincing the soldiers. "That would normally be Demius. He is not well at the moment. He has asked me to take his place."
"I see." The Roman soldiers looked Jamis over. The hat and cloak certainly looked like how Demius would dress, but something just didn't appear right.
"We are from the Balmuildy Fort and we will take you there. But we won't take any chances. My companion here will drive us up and we'll tie your hands up as a precaution. If you are who you say you are, there is nothing to worry about and you can carry on your business. Step down and I'll tie your hands."
"This really isn't necessary. I've never had my hands tied up before. Can you not let me drive up to the fort?"
"No! We will do it our way! Come down from the cart to have your hands tied!"
"Alright. We'll do it your way."
Jamis tried to appear unflustered and nodded in agreement, tethering the reins to the cart and starting to dismount.
As he dismounted, clambering slowly down the step with his back to the soldier, Jamis quietly drew his sword behind his cloak and when he reached the ground he turned round swiftly and thrust his sword through the soldier's stomach. The soldier stood shocked, open-mouthed, looking down at the sword protruding from his stomach. Jamis pushed them apart, releasing his sword. The man stood for a moment longer, before blood gurgled from his mouth and he fell backwards, collapsing to the ground to his death.
The second soldier who was of a more squat build, dropped his basket of herbs and drew his sword. This would be more of a battle, the element of surprise now gone. The two men stood facing each other, sizing one another up.
Jamis was the first to make a move, lunging straight at the soldier full speed. The soldier side-stepped and Jamis went through, the shock causing Jamis to stumble and fall. Instantly the soldier was coming up behind him and his sword readied to strike downwards into Jamis's back. Jamis rolled over just as the soldier's sword tip struck the ground, where Jamis's back had been.
Jamis struggled back to his feet but his sword fell from his grasp, the soldier kicking away Jamis's sword out of reach.
And so thought Jamis, this would be how his life would end. Winded, strained ankle and unable to run, he waited for the soldier to strike through. Perhaps he could dodge the first strike.
The soldier grinned and readied his sword. He began his short back swing when suddenly a sword tip went through his back and emerged through his chest. Jamis watched the soldier's grin turn to shock when the soldier looked at amazement of the sword tip thrusting out his chest.
The dying soldier fell to his knees and in his place stood Aritan, his blooded sword by his side.
"Always watch your balance, young Jamis. Always watch your balance."

Chapter 8.
Jamis stood staring at Aritan, as Aritan wiped the edge of his sword against the dead soldier's tunic.
"Thank you, Aritan. Hopefully one day I will be able to repay you in some way for saving my life."
"You and your father would have done the same for me, that is payment enough."
Jamis considered Aritan's words and thought how noble Aritan was. Jamis was thinking how to express this when movements in the forest caught his eye. Looking closer, he saw the men of the settlements and realised that this must be the morning that Aritan said would come, the morning they would fight the Romans, then move north to Callun's lands.
Aritan saw that Jamis was looking over his shoulder at the men in the forest.
"Will you join us, Jamis?"
"I cannot. I have to avenge my father's death in my own way. My fate will take me to the heart of the fort and if my heart is large enough, I will fight the Centurion."
"I see. I have said all along that each man is free to do what they thought was right. If we should meet again in this life, I will see you in the north."
The two men clasped their hands.
"Your two friends Demius and Maxis wanted you to have this." Aritan reached inside his tunic and brought out the golden torque.
"Your father would have wanted you to wear this, now you are a tribal leader."
Jamis took off his cloak and put the torque on his arm. Even in this darkness before dawn, the golden torque stood out, a piece of intricate design and of the finest quality.
Jamis put his cloak disguise back on and put on Demius's hat, that had come off at some point in his battle with the Roman soldiers, he didn't know when.
The two men clasped hands once more.
"I will see you again, Aritan."
"And I, you."
Jamis stepped back up onto the cart bench and untied the reins. With a flick of his wrists on the reins the horse and cart carried on their way, Balmuildy Fort looming in the distance, over the dawning sun.


Chapter 9.
Jamis waited at the side of the track on his horse and cart as the Roman legionaries marched out of Balmuildy Fort, with Optio Scrivinus at the front.
As they passed, one soldier shouted out to his comrades. "Fresh wine tonight, lads!"
A cheer went up in response from the soldiers around him and the soldiers smiled as they marched past Jamis, who was trying his very best to act out the role of a grateful trader waiting to be admitted to the fort for a substantial amount of business.
After the legionaries had passed the horse and cart, a legionary at the fort gate stepped onto the middle of the track and beckoned Jamis forward.
Jamis gave a slight jerk on the reins and the horse and cart moved forward to the entrance, until the legionary held out his hand to signal them to stop.
"What is your business here?" said Nastin, all too aware of who this visitor really was.
"My name is Petrous. I am a trader with fresh wine, standing in for the trader Demius." Jamis thought he would mention the wine, thinking it would stand him a better chance of gaining entry.
Nastin pretended to look through his list and continued to play his part. Inside he was full of hatred towards this Jamis, this young fool who would dare to come between him and Angelis.
"Oh, yes. I see Demius's name on the list. Why is he not here?" Nastin was starting to enjoy this theatre.
"Demius is unwell, nothing serious though. He has asked me to take this trip as a favour."
"I see." Nastin thought he would pause for dramatic effect. "Fresh wine you say?" He scratched his chin, thinking he would make a good actor. "I don't think the men would forgive me if I didn't let you in!"
Jamis tried to laugh, though he thought it sounded quite fake.
"Very well. I'll let you in." Nastin wondered if he had overdone it with all his acting. Enough of this theatre, thought Nastin. Time to admit this Jamis to his death.
"Go straight ahead and then stop by that building. As you have seen, most of the soldiers marched past you for morning drill, lead by the Optio, but the Centurion is still in the officers quarters. Rest up there by those quarters. It is the Optio that you are to deal with when he gets back."
Nastin waved Jamis through with the fakest smile he had ever smiled in his life. Jamis nodded his head towards Nastin and the horse and cart proceeded on, coming to a stop where Nastin had indicated.
Jamis took off the hat and cloak, revealing his golden torque and drew his sword. The rasp echoed across the walls of the building.
Jamis shouted at the top of his voice.
"Centurion! Come out! I must fight you!"
Almost immediately, a figure emerged from the building.
"What is this! Who are you!"
"I am Jamis, son of Boridan! I am a tribal leader, here to avenge the death of my father from a Roman raiding party two years ago! Jamis's golden torque shone brightly in the dawning sun and his red and yellow amulet glinted in the light.
"I had nothing to do with that! I am Centurion Andonicus. Put down your weapon and we will talk. You speak latin very well."
"We are not the barbarians you Romans think we are! Talking is good but I can only settle this debate with my sword. Unless you are a coward?"
"I cannot let anyone call a Roman Centurion a coward. Very well, we will have our fight!"
Nastin walked over to get a closer view.
"Stay out of this, soldier!" shouted Andonicus. "This is a one on one battle for honour!"
Nastin had no intention of intervening. He could not believe his luck how this had turned out. Perhaps he will do well in the dice game tonight. "Yes, sir!" Nastin shouted back.
Jamis made the first move. He charged forward, his sword searching for a strike. Andronicus met the charge, his sword halting Jamis's sword in a blaze of sparks. Jamis remembered Aritan's words and did not lose his balance as he passed through.
The two men faced each other again after Jamis had turned. This time Andronicus thrust with his short sword. The Centurion was very athletic and his quick movement forwards was quicker than Jamis could repel and the blade hit home, finding flesh on Jamis's side.
Jamis cried out. Nastin grinned. The Centurion regained his balance, ready for the next exchange.
Jamis charged again. This time he swung his sword low and Andronicus met the blade at his side, a stream of sparks flowing as he deflected the blade harmlessly off and swept the blade away from Andronicus's right.
Andronicus's speed saw Andronicus then thrust his blade under Jamis's sword, which Jamis could not meet and Andronicus's blade sliced through Jamis's sword arm from his wrist to his elbow, until Andronicus withdrew.
Jamis screamed in pain, the sharp, burning agony, in his cut open sword arm. Jamis looked down at the blood spurting from his lower arm, unable to hold onto his sword any longer. Was this the end? Had he restored honour? He hoped he had. His vision blurred and blackened as he dropped.
"Take him to the hospital, soldier."
Nastin signalled over to two of the hospital orderlies that had been watching from the side and Jamis was taken away, in a Roman cart this time. Well that was a good bit of entertainment thought Nastin, I've had worse mornings.
Centurion Andronicus watched Jamis being carted away and was about to clean his sword when he was startled by the sound of native horns that rose up in the distance outwith the fort.

Chapter 10.
The men around Aritan blew their horns, as they charged out of the forest, full voice and swords raised, towards the Roman soldiers that had begun their morning drill.
The first Roman soldiers had no chance at all. Knocked over and trampled on, they died on the ground, stabbed fatally by the long swords as the natives ran through.
Optio Scrivinus looked on in horror to the killing off to the left in the distance. He quickly shouted to the nearest soldiers.
"You eight soldiers! Get the cart of shields nearer to the men! With me!"
The cart rattled along the ground, soldiers grabbing a shield as it passed by, their best chance to hold off the charging natives.
The cart group neared the far left, the front of this terrifying attack. Legionaries were trying their best to fight off their attackers in deadly one on one battles, such duals the natives had the advantage on, with their powerful large frames built to wield arm numbing blows.
The legionaries that could, grabbed a shield as the cart passed, at one point the cart going over a fallen soldier's leg, where he let out a cry of pain, before a charging native crashed his sword into the dying Roman's chest.
Optio Scrivinus shoved an attacking native with his shield off to the side, sending him on his way with a sword thrust to the native's flesh.
"Century! Form Line!" shouted Scrivinus and the order was repeated be other soldiers throughout.
"Don't let them get passed us!" screamed Scrivinus.
Nearby to Scrivinus, one of the legionaries turned and started to run away. He was quickly chopped down by a native's swoop of his long sword and finished off with a thrust to the back as he sprawled on the ground.
Scrivinus watched it all. "Run and you're dead! Run and we're all dead! Your only chance to live is to hold the line! Hold the line!"
Somehow a line of Roman soldiers formed, their shields forming a barrier the natives could not get through. The natives crashed into the shield wall and were then lucky not to get stabbed by the thrusting short swords in between the shields.
Sometimes a native got through the shields, only to be quickly dispatched by the legionaries waiting in numbers behind the line.
Sometimes a legionary fell, unable to hold off the strongest of the natives, but another legionary would take his fallen comrade's place and the line would hold.
"Keep it up lads! Now we've got them!" Scrivinus bellowed, now with a large grin on his face, as his soldiers had won the advantage.
Scrivinus looked up from the melee when a glinting sword in the dawning sunlight caught his eye. The flashing of the sword came from the Fort gate in the distance where Scrivinus could make out Centurion Andronicus pointing and barking out orders to a legionary frantically pushing a cart.
"Quickly Nastin!" ordered Centurion Andonicus. "Get that bloody cart over here now! At the double!"
Nastin gave a final push and the cart full of javelins reached Andronicus. Another legionary came running out of the gate carrying various coloured flags.
"Raise the blue flag, legionary!" ordered Andonicus. Scrivinus saw the signal. This was one of the drills they had been working on. Something that Andronicus hoped to recommend to his superiors when perfected. Scrivinus swung into action, filling his chest with air to shout out his orders, the blue flag meaning a retreat in two parts.
"Even units! On my command run back to the Fort gate!" started Scrivinus.
"Reserves! On my command take the even units place in the line!" Scrivinus paused for the soldiers to ready themselves.
"Even units - Run!"
"Reserves - Take Place!"
The legionaries carried out their instructions, all the while the natives trying to hack their way through the Roman line.
Andronicus saw the lines of legionaries running towards him and was excited his signal had worked. Perhaps victory can be snatched from the jaws of defeat. "Grab your javelins and two lines as practiced, prepare to release!"
"Legionary!" continued Andronicus. "Red flag!"
Scrivinus saw the red flag signal for retreating Testudo and gave the order. As in practice, the mythical beast was created, a scaled animal of shields with pointy teeth of swords, retreating rapidly.
The natives cheered the Romans retreat, resting their sword arms in victory as the mythical beast scurried back. The battle had been won, with honour restored, Aritan and his followers could head back into the forest and then north as ordered.
Aritan placed his arm on another's shoulder and the men stood and rested. As Aritan was about to speak, the sky went black as a shower of javelins found their mark. Many men fell, the cries of pain filling the air. Aritan opened his mouth to speak, as the sky went black again, the cries of pain even louder than before. Defeat in the jaws of victory, as Aritan and a few others ran to the forest and safety, to begin their journey northwards to Callun's lands.

Chapter 11.
Jamis opened his eyes. After a few moments it struck him that he didn't know where he was.
A man sat in the corner of the room raised his head from his documents when he saw Jamis stirring. "Ah. You're back with us. You are in the hospital of Balmuildy Fort."
Jamis looked at the orderly and then to the small table at the side of his bed upon which his golden torque lay, the red and yellow amulet still round his neck. He began to reach over and a sharp pain gripped him from his arm and side. Determined, he continued his reach and put on his golden torque, a link to who he was.
"You were lucky. Not too much damage. We cleaned out the wounds and bandaged them up. You were unconscious throughout." The orderly was very matter of fact and was about to continue when he heard footsteps approaching.
"You have had a visitor every day while you were unconscious. It sounds like he is on his way again."
Jamis looked towards the door and in stepped Centurion Andronicus.
"Young Jamis! It seems you are awake!" announced Andronicus as if he was Jamis's closest friend.
"Your sword technique could do with some work. You could learn much from how we Romans fight."
Jamis thought he would rebuff this remark. "And I'm sure you could learn much from how we fight, too."
Centurion Andronicus smiled. "Indeed. We could each learn from each other."
Andronicus paused. This man is clearly quite intelligent, thought Jamis.
"This brings me to the main 'thrust', if you like, of my visit." Andronicus walked over towards the orderly and smiled.
"You have three options, young Jamis. One, I could have you killed. I'm sure the men have a plethora of ideas of how this could be done for their entertainment this evening. Two, I could sell you as a slave. My savings are pretty low. They could do with a boost. Or three, I could appoint you as my new translator. I have received new orders to be a negotiator in the ongoing discussions with the northern tribes. You would retain your tribal leader status, have your own sword returned, your own room and your own pay."
Andronicus tried to add in some humour. "Perhaps in time you may even prefer our Roman short sword, once I have taught you how to use it."
"I'm not sure about that." replied Jamis. "However I feel that I have restored honour to my father's name and I can play a part in this new world. And so I can accept your offer."
"Excellent! I'll have the documents prepared."
"You know," thought Jamis, "I am usually better with my sword."
"Well," replied Andronicus, "I'm glad you had an off day." Andronicus paused and then turned to leave, "Otherwise we would both now be dead."
And with that, Andronicus walked out of the room, the next phase of their lives had begun.


Chapter 12.
The horses' hooves thundered along the track, four horses and their riders in front, four horses and their riders at the back. In between, a sturdy two horsed cart, two men on the bench, all men armed and cloaked.
The noise of this express was immense and increasing and the soldiers on the palisade signalled to the two gate soldiers of the Balmuildy Fort to open the gates.
As the gates swung inward, the express continued on through, as if this was the finish line of a great race, then to ease back after the race was won. This was however only the start of its journey.
The express came to a stop in front of the Centurion's quarters, the Centurion outside waiting to greet this important delivery. The soldiers saluted and they began to unload the chest directly into the Centurion's quarters.
Once unloaded, the soldiers and their horses were lead away to be attended to, this being only the start of their orders. Jamis, having been discharged from hospital two weeks ago, watched from his quarters as Centurion Andronicus and Optio Scrivinus went inside behind the chest and closed the door firmly after the soldiers had left.
Andronicus opened the chest and stood back at the sight before them.
"So, this is it!" exclaimed Scrivinus.
"It is indeed."
Andronicus put his hand into the chest and dug deep down. From top to bottom, silver coins trickled through his hands. The chest also revealed an array of gold and silver objects, all of which would not look out of place on the Emperor's tables.
Scrivinus blew out his cheeks.
"Maybe we could take some of this and make a run for it!" Scrivinus said, half in jest, half in truth. "Pay our way back home, buy some land and sit in the sun for the rest of our lives!"
"Imagine, we wouldn't even make it to the port, Scrivinus! I have this image in my head of all the Emperor's men chasing us down the road!"
Both men laughed. It helped ease the seriousness of the situation. Before them stood the maximum amount the Emperor was prepared to pay for Callun's northern tribe to be pacified. It was up to Andronicus and his translator to try secure this for the lowest sum possible.
Andonicus closed the chest and placed a large cloth over its top. Tomorrow Andronicus, Jamis and six Roman soldiers were to leave for the agreed meeting place of Antiloch, where Callun and some of his men would be waiting for the negotiations to begin.
If a figure could be agreed, two of the Roman soldiers would travel back to Balmuildy Fort with Andronicus's signed instructions, giving the go-ahead for the negotiated amount to be delivered to Antiloch.
As a gesture of good faith, or more probably to show to Callun that nothing underhand was being carried out, Andronicus, Jamis and the remaining soldiers, would remain as "guests" of Callun for another day, for which Andronicus hoped that some fine wine would be flowing, as "guests" of Rome's new friends.
"Well Scrivinus, I hope you are up to holding the fort while I'm away!" teased Andronicus.
"Don't you worry about that. I've been looking after forts since before you were born, you cheeky dog!"
"Now is that any way to speak to your superior?" joked Andronicus, who always liked to annoy Scrivinus when the opportunity arose.
"No, I suppose not. But more importantly, who's going to keep you right when I'm not there!"
"As usual Scrivinus, you always give as good as you get! You always have the last word!" Both men were satisfied that neither had won their verbal contest. "Now, go and find some warmed wine for us, for when I get back from Jamis's quarters to tell him of tomorrow's journey."
Jamis watched Andronicus come out of his quarters and saw that he was heading towards him.
He had got on well with Andronicus in the month that he had known him and they had enjoyed some long evenings together with some of the other men, either playing dice or mending of kit and equipment.
Stories of past battles showed how close these men had become, almost as if they had become one large family, teasing each other over their traits, all taken in good humour, unless too much wine had been consumed.
During the days, Jamis had been assigned various tasks that kept him busy. These included helping out in the cook-house and the granary and it was clear that food (and drink!) played an important role in the soldiers' way of life.
He even got to meet up with his childhood friend Angelis, when he joined a foraging party for herbs and plants. Angelis was a keen forager, known for her herbal remedies and he felt lucky that they had often met up on these trips. Unknown to Jamis, his friend Angelis had become very close to one of the foragers, legionary Nastin.
For exercise, Andronicus had been teaching Jamis in the Roman use of the short sword, which used more of a jabbing and thrusting motion, compared to the wielding of Jamis's long sword. All in all Jamis found that he still preferred his old sword, for now at least.
He also went running with a soldier that was similar in age to himself and who was usually in the foraging party. His name was Nastin and although Nastin had appeared distant and sullen to Jamis to begin with, through time Nastin began to talk more and they found that they got on well.
Andronicus walked into Jamis's quarters and smiled. Both were genuinely pleased to see each other.
"Good evening, Jamis. I have received the orders that we are to travel to Antiloch tomorrow morning to meet up with Callun, to negotiate a figure for peace with his northern tribe. What do you know of Antiloch and Callan?"
"Well, Antiloch is a small settlement at least two days travel from Callan's stronghold. It has a handful of dwellings together with one Great Hall that is sometimes used for gatherings."
"I see. And how about Callun?"
"Callan is the chief of the most powerful northern tribe. Other tribes in our area bow to his overall decisions. He is a big, broad man with a hefty beard to match. Let's just say you wouldn't want to run into him in a dark Roman alley!"
Andronicus liked the way Jamis had put this and laughed. He had begun to view Jamis like a younger brother and he often wondered how his actual younger brothers were back on the family farm. One day Andronicus hoped to return there, a decorated rich veteran, able to live out the rest of their lives as wealthy farmers.
"Nicely put! I'm going to have an early night and I suggest you do the same. We will leave at first light with six other soldiers and hopefully we will arrive at Antiloch by evening. Sleep well and I'll see you tomorrow."
And with that, Andronicus turned and left, leaving Jamis to think about the journey ahead and the negotiations to follow. Life used to be so simple, thought Jamis as he drifted to sleep.



Chapter 13.
Jamis woke early. After several hours of being unable to sleep, he had finally dozed off, only to be wakened by the guard change.
He looked out of his quarters and saw six Roman soldiers and Andronicus, preparing their horses ready for the next adventure, to win Callun's peace. An eighth horse was already prepared and awaited its rider, Jamis.
Jamis quickly readied himself with dressing and eating, then stepped out to the awaiting party.
"Nice of you to join us, Jamis! When you're ready, we'll get on our way."
Jamis mounted his horse with no problem, observed by Andronicus, noting that this young tribal leader was a skilled horseman and without any delay, the party set off.
Nastin opened the gate with a salute to Andronicus, but also to Jamis, who despite being a potential rival for Angelis's attentions, had become somewhat of a friend. Jamis nodded his head and smiled to Nastin and as the party proceeded to a trot, Jamis looked back over his shoulder and watched Scrivinus wave his goodbye from the palisade.
Before long the party entered the forest and a steady pace was kept. It occurred to Jamis, just as it had done when he lay in bed unable to sleep the night before, that the party would soon pass his dwelling, as well as that of his neighbour, Angelis.
The party galloped on in silence, Jamis riding next to Andonicus and he decided that now would be the time to broach this subject.
"There's a woman I know well lives in this dwelling that's coming up. We could stop and have some of our rations there."
"A woman you know well? You've kept that quiet." teased Andronicus.
"Don't be vulgar. Her name's Angelis and please remember your Roman manners when you speak to her."
"Very well. I'll be the perfect gentleman. We'll stop there for some rest. I'll be the most charming soldier possible, but you will have to translate."
"No need. Angelis speaks perfect latin, too."
Andronicus raised his eyebrow in surprise. It appeared that not only did Scrivinus always seem to have the last word, but this Jamis did as well.
The party carried on and soon enough Angelis's dwelling was reached. Jamis did not let on that he lived in the modest neighbouring property, where he had stayed after his village had been destroyed by a Roman raiding party two years ago, that also killed his father, Boridan.
Andronicus spoke first, as Jamis knew he would, the opportunity to tease Jamis too great a prospect to miss.
"Ah. My dear lady. My dear friend Jamis has told me all about you. I can see why he fell for your beauty." Andronicus smiled over to Jamis, who had gritted his teeth. "May we possibly rest here for a few moments before we continue our ride?"
Angelis blushed, not quite sure what was going on unsaid between Jamis and Andronicus. "Of course, please rest and sit. Jamis, please may I speak with you for a moment?"
"Of course he may! He has lots to talk to you about. He never stops talking about you!" Jamis wished Andronicus would shut up.
Jamis lead Angelis to the side as Andronicus and the soldiers dismounted and stretched.
"Jamis, as you know, I have not seen my father since the attack on Balmuildy Fort. I do not know if he is alive or dead. If he is alive, I do not know whether he made it to Callun's lands. Please can you find out."
"It is to Callun's lands that we are going to, to try negotiate a price for peace and so I will soon find out if Aritan made it. I will let you know when I return, whenever that may be."
Angelis was relieved and knew that nothing more on the matter could be done just now. The two walked back to the scene of soldiers eating and drinking.
One of the soldiers leaned on the side of the door, a chance to stand and rest and to take in the scenery. A green, pleasant land, he thought. He raised his glass to his lips and a sword cut straight through his neck. His shocked scream as his arms tried to grapple behind him and then he fell, as his attacker withdrew his sword.
"Put down your sword!" shouted Jamis.
"Never!" shouted the man.
The man started running towards Andronicus, his sword in front of him, going for his next kill.
Andronicus tried to get up from the grass where he was sitting, getting on to his knees and lifting himself up. But surely it would be too late to draw his sword against this attacker.
The man reached Andronicus, the sword about to thrust into its victim, when the attacker suddenly veered off to the side, tackled by Jamis to the ground. Jamis lay on top of the winded attacker and then rolled off to the side. The attacker was then quickly dispatched by another soldier's sword.
"My Jupiter!" shouted a furious Andronicus. "Who was that man! I demand you to tell me!"
Angelis was clearly shaken by what had just happened.
"This has nothing to do with me." pleaded Angelis, pleading for her life. "I found him in the forest after the attack on Balmuildy Fort. He was badly injured and I have nursed him back to health."
Andronicus was shaken himself, but he did not want to show this in front of his soldiers. "If we weren't on important business I would have you killed right now. But as it is, we will get on our way and trust you will bury my fallen soldier."
Angelis nodded her head. "Of course. I am sorry. Goodbye."
Andronicus, Jamis and the five soldiers mounted their horses and Andronicus lead them away. Jamis held out his hand and touched Angelis's cheek as he passed, before the horses began to trot away.
As the horses began to pick up speed, Jamis drew level with Andronicus and they rode side by side.
Andronicus looked over to Jamis and considered what to say. This was a man that one month ago had tried to kill him in one to one combat. This was the man that Andronicus could have killed either then in their one to one battle, or at any time thereafter. What great things can be achieved when once sworn enemies can forgive. After a few moments Andronicus spoke simply. "Thank you for saving my life."


Chapter 14.
The party rode on in silence, Andronicus being in no mood to talk. Jamis rode beside Andronicus and occasionally their eyes met and they acknowledged each other. The other soldiers were in quiet contemplation of their fallen comrade, part of their group that had fought alongside each other in the toughest of battles, unable to quite believe their comrade had been killed whilst resting by a doorway, after all they had been through.
The party reached Antiloch by late afternoon and they were met by a group of Callun's men by the first dwelling. They were surprised at how well Jamis spoke their language, until Jamis told them he was the son of Boridan. Their next question was as to why he rode at the side of this Centurion and Jamis had thought out this answer in advance. He told them he was here as it was time for peace between the two sides.
After their horses were lead away, the party was shown to their new quarters, which was the first settlement in Antiloch. Before entering, Jamis looked along the track into the distance past the other dwellings and saw the Great Hall, presumably where the negotiations with Callun would take place.
The men ate and drink what had been laid out for them and rested while they had the opportunity to do so. The tension was broken by Andronicus.
"Big buggers aren't they!" joked Andronicus.
"Wait until you see the size of Callun. He is as broad as he is tall. I've never seen anyone like it."
Andronicus bit into a chicken leg, one of many on the table in front of them and it tasted good. "Maybe it's all these chickens they eat."
The wine wasn't too bad either, which they watered down to go with their food. Andronicus wanted to ensure he had a clear head for the negotiations, as he had been ordered to agree the lowest price possible and that if peace could not be agreed, the bounty must be returned intact.
After their fill of food and drink the men sat back and relaxed. Life could be so good without war, thought Jamis and it reminded him of times when the men had large banquets that seemed to last for days.
Some of Callun's men appeared in the doorway and Jamis translated that Callun was ready for them in the Great Hall.
'Well," announced Andronicus. "Here goes." Andronicus drained his glass and followed Callun's men and Jamis into the cool afternoon.
The walk to the Great Hall helped focus Andronicus back to his duty and before long the small group entered the building, vast in size and vast in height. The same could be said about Callun when the introductions were being made, Andronicus almost lost for words at the vast size and the vast height of Callun.
Jamis and Andronicus sat at one end of the table, while Callun and one other sat at the other end. To his delight, the other man beside Callan was Aritan! Jamis had to contain his enthusiasm for seeing Aritan again. He wanted to ask him so many questions but he reminded himself that he was here as a translator, to try get this peace achieved.
Andronicus opened proceedings and soon came out with his offer. He was not a great person for small talk or delaying matters and Callun was surprised that the question of amounts had been reached so soon.
Andronicus consulted one of his documents. "The offer from Rome is the said amount of money and the said amount of gold and silver. Rome is also willing to provide its expertise in the building of several dwellings, a fine dwelling befitting a noble tribal leader such as yourself and other accompanying features such as roads and sanitation."
Aritan whispered into Callun's ear. "This seems a very good offer."
Callun sat still for a moment and then whispered back into Aritan's ear. "We will never be ruled by Rome, or anyone else. Do not speak, I am about to announce my decision. Remember I am the overall ruler."
Callun faced the front once more and looked directly and formally at Centurion Andronicus and Translator Jamis.
"I accept your offer. Show me where to sign."
Andronicus smiled and prepared the document for Callun's signature. He stood up, ready to walk over to Callun's end of the table. Aritan however wore a puzzled expression as he continued looking at Callun. Why had Callun asked to sign this document, when a few moments earlier he had whispered to Aritan that they would never be ruled by anyone else?
Callun signed the document and handed it back to Andronicus. Callun bowed his head, the very picture of a noble leader. Andronicus similarly bowed his head and carefully took the signed document back to his seat and lay it on the table ready for his signature, to seal the deal.
Andronicus looked at the document with an air of sincerity and pleasure, the next step being the delivery of this document to Scrivinus, who would then arrange for the chest to be delivered to Antiloch.
Andronicus had come up with an idea beforehand with Scrivinus, that would signify to Scrivinus that the deal was genuine. This idea was that if the deal was genuine, Andronicus would sign the document with all three of his names rather than two.
Andronicus took up the stylus and began to sign his name. In clear letters he wrote his full name, 'signed Andronicus Mitius Sentus' and held the document aloft for Callun to see.
A servant appeared with a tray of glasses and wine and before long both Andronicus and Callun had made their toasts, a sweet wine helping to make the deal more palatable for Callun.
Callun cleared his throat. "Gentlemen, the deal is done. Please send two of your soldiers back to the Balmuildy Fort with the signed agreement and then let the amount be delivered here. You will of course remain as my guests until the amount arrives."
"As you wish, sir." Andronicus politely agreed.
Callun continued. "Now if you will excuse me, I have other matters to attend to. More food and wine awaits you at your quarters." And with that Callun rose and walked away with Aritan. Andronicus and Jamis stood up and bowed their heads as their former enemy passed.
"Not the most hospitable of meetings I have ever had." pronounced Andronicus. "Was it something I said?" joked the Centurion.
"Well," thought Jamis. "At least we are in for some more great chicken!" Andronicus and Jamis laughed, as Callun's men lead them back to their quarters. As they left the Great Hall, Callun secretly watched them walk by and it was his turn to laugh to himself, knowing that he had duped the Romans and even become richer in the process.
"Fools." Callun said quietly. "Utter fools."

Chapter 15.
Optio Scrivinus studied the signed document before him, brought by the two riders from Antiloch. It seemed genuine enough, with Andronicus's signature containing his middle name, as they had arranged beforehand, in their secret code to show all was well.
Scrivinus decided to act and locked the chest with the required amount of silver coins and silver and gold objects. Andronicus had the other key around his waist, to open the chest when it arrived. Scrivinus ordered the locked chest to be loaded onto the horse and cart immediately and within the hour, the party had passed through the Balmuildy Fort gates and then picked up speed, ordered to reach Antiloch as soon as possible.
Scrivinus had a bad feeling that all was not right. Surely the document had been signed too quickly and perhaps this was a trap? He decided that he would have the men ready on short notice, in case they should have to march, go to war or both.
The party made good progress, soldiers on horses in front and behind the horse and cart carrying the chest. It had been dry for the last week and so the precious cargo was unimpeded, able to speed along the tracks to Antiloch. Any bystander would easily be frightened by such a sight, an unearthly black mass moving at great spreed.
Within a few hours the party had arrived in Antiloch and Callun ordered the chest to be placed in the room adjoining the Great Hall. Andronicus opened the chest with the key that was tied around his waist and an impressive sight of silver coins and gold and silver objects filled the room.
Callun looked over the hoard, his eyes delighting at the amount of silver and gold.
"This all appears in order." said a satisfied Callun. "After their short meal send the party that brought the chest back on their way. Then we will be able to treat our remaining 'guests' with the hospitality they deserve."
Andronicus and Jamis were slightly taken aback by the last statement. Had this been said in a sarcastic manner or was this merely a statement of a reluctant host?
After a short while Andronicus and Jamis were escorted from the Great Hall, back to the first dwelling house, hoping to find inside a new spread of food to be eaten. They watched the party of the horse and cart and the accompanying mounted soldiers leave, pleased to depart for a pleasant ride back to the Balmuildy Fort.
Jamis looked out of the window and noticed that there was many more of Callun's men appearing outside. Then, unexpectedly Callun walked through the door and faced Andronicus and Jamis directly.
Callun sneered, not the demeanor of a welcome host. "Do you honestly expect me to give up my Kingdom for some silver coins and some trinkets? To be ruled by Rome like some subservient tribe? This will never happen as long as there is a breath in my body!" Callun turned to his men. "Seize them!"
The three remaining Roman soldiers unsheathed their swords, ready for a fighting way out. They were vastly outnumbered, with over eighty of Callun's men in or around the dwelling.
Andronicus considered the situation and turned to his soldiers, holding out his hand. "Put your swords down, men. We are too outnumbered." The soldiers put their swords down on the floor.
Callun spoke. "I have my own document here, if Jamis would be so good as to read it out."
Callun handed Jamis the document. The writing was shaky in parts, but fully in latin, if a little poorly worded. Jamis read aloud in latin.
"Callun and his men will not accept being ruled by Rome. We take your silver and gold and at any opportunity we will fight you until you are gone or until there is peace on our terms."
Callun seemed satisfied when Jamis was finished. "I will allow two of your men to travel back to Balmuildy Fort with this document. Their safe passage is guaranteed. The document will then no doubt be passed to your higher authorities."
Andronicus spoke up. "Once this document is received, there will be a battle and you will lose."
"Nonsense!" shouted Callun. "You Romans take an age to do anything! Like the time you spend inside hot houses doing a shit!" Callun's men laughed raucously. "By the time any soldiers come, we will be back north in our homeland and no-one knows that land better than us!"
Jamis handed the document to Andronicus, who looked it over. Andronicus cleared his throat.
"Very well. So be it. Julius and Tasis, take this 'document' back to Optio Scrivinus. He knows what orders are to be carried out in these circumstances."
The two soldiers saluted and Callun's men parted to allow the two soldiers through and onto outside to their horses.
Andronicus, Jamis and the last remaining soldier named Ralliax, watched the two soldiers mount their horses and they were escorted onto the track to begin their journey.
"I have a little entertainment for my men." Callun pointed to Ralliax. "You. Come."
Ralliax was manhandled out of the building, closely followed by Andronicus and Jamis who were jostled along. Ralliax was then tied to a post that had been placed in the centre of the open ground. Callun's men then stood to the side while Callun raised his arm as a signal to more men upfield.
Andronicus and Jamis looked upfield and to their horror saw more of Callun's men holding javelins. In some bizarre revenge for the men killed by javelins outside Balmuildy Fort, Callun was to reinact this by Ralliax's death.
Callun let his arm fall and the sky went black as a mass of javelins hurtled through the sky towards Ralliax. Several javelins found their mark, Ralliax screaming on their impact.
Callun raised his arm again, paused, then let his arm fall. Once more the sky went black with this second assault. More javelins hit their mark, with further screams from Ralliax, until a javelin pierced Ralliax's heart and the screams stopped instantly, ending his misery.
Callun's men cheered and laughed. What a way to show who has the authority in these parts, was the sentiments of the men.
"You two!" Callun pointed to Andronicus and Jamis. "I have something lined up for you." And with that, Andronicus and Jamis were shoved forward to Callun, to hear how they would meet their end.



Chapter 16.
Callun watched Ralliax being taken down from the post, several javelins protruding from his body, with dark masses of blood clotting everywhere.
"This soldier died honourably and will be given a proper ceremony and burial." Callun turned to Andronicus and Jamis. "You two however, will be denied this. You will be taken to the caves and at a time of my choosing, you will then be killed." Callun paused as if for effect. "Unceremoniously."
Andronicus looked at Jamis, both dumbfounded by this crazed leader. Why was it that power sometimes seem to run hand in hand with cruelty? Andronicus thought of Emperors from the past, tales of murder to hold onto their position. Here, another ruler in his own way was using these killings for his own cause.
Callun spoke again. "Jamis, your golden torque. Give it to me, I'll add it to the chest!" The golden torque was ripped from his arm and handed to Callun. "Take them away!" Callun pronounced to the crowd.
Andronicus decided to speak. "This is madness! My soldier did not deserve to die, neither do we. Let us go and I give you my word you will live and we will negotiate a new peace. Carry on with this, then a battle awaits and we will win. It will be our turn to show mercy or not."
Callun laughed. "I have told you before. It takes an age before you Romans will be ready for battle, by which time we will be back up north. Then we may think about peace or battle, again."
Jamis looked at Aritan. "Aritan, please bring this to an end, let there be peace."
Aritan looked at Jamis, whom he regarded like a son. If Callun was gone, the people would want peace, but while Callun lived, matters may be unlikely to change.
The two men were lead away to the caves and the crowd started to disperse, the entertainment over and now time to drink, to talk over excitedly, the day's events.




Chapter 17.
Complete darkness and Aritan tentatively made his way to the caves. Cautiously he looked around to check that he had not been followed and to the best of his knowledge he had not.
He entered and made his way deeper into the system, where he knew the two prisoners would be tied up. He had brought some tools with him, to help them escape as he knew it was not right that they should die.
"Jamis? Andronicus? Are you there?"
Jamis shifted his position. There was no way either of them could sleep in these circumstances.
"Over here!" called out Jamis.
Aritan shone his beacon in the direction of the voice and saw the two prisoners tied to two timber posts.
"I have come to release you." said Aritan quietly. He worked fast, cutting the ropes that held them to the post.
Jamis looked directly at his father figure. "You are taking a huge risk doing this, Aritan! I do not wish you to die too!"
"Sometimes there is only one direction to follow, just like the route into these caves. Angelis foresaw to me that you were destined for great things. I am merely playing my part to help you on your way, which I hope will be the way of peace for people to come, after old fighters like me."
"Nevertheless, you are taking a great risk to yourself." insisted Jamis.
"There is also a time to be quiet." added Aritan and he finished cutting both men free. "Hurry! Go! The quicker I get back to the Great Hall the better, so that I am not missed! We will meet again, I am sure of it!"
Aritan and Jamis clasped hands and then Aritan and Andronicus did likewise, until the two men ran out of the cave and into the darkness. With their fitness and guile they had every chance of making it back to the Balmuildy Fort, especially if Callun and his men were to sleep off their drink well into the next day.
A few moments later, Aritan emerged from the caves. Unknown to Aritan, a man had watched all three men leave, as Callun had ordered that Aritan be followed for the remainder of their time in Antiloch. The man rose from his hiding place beside the caves and began to make his way back to the Great Hall.


Chapter 18.
The two mounted soldiers arrived back at Balmuildy Fort, not long after the horse and cart and its accompanying riders.
Optio Scrivinus watched from the palisade as the two mounted soldiers passed through the gates and he then stepped down the ladders to see why they had arrived back.
The two soldiers dismounted and saluted.
One of the soldiers, still breathless from their non-stop journey back from Antiloch, began to speak. "Sir, may we speak with you privately?"
"Of course. Come into my quarters."
The three men entered and one of the soldiers reached into his tunic for Callun's document and handed it to Scrivinus to read.
"It has all gone wrong, sir. It was a trap. Callun has the chest and when we left, Andronicus, Jamis and one of our lads, were all Callun's prisoners."
Scrivinus read the document, that Jamis had read aloud some time earlier. He re-read the document and knew that his next set of orders would now be effected.
The orders were that if no negotiation could be reached, the chest was to be returned, at all cost. The course of action was clear. The unit would march at once to Antiloch and retake the chest. Scrivinus was pleased that he had the unit on standby, ready to march and go to war.
Scrivinus looked up from Callun's document, setting it aside on his table. "Gentleman! We are going to Antiloch to retake the chest! Are you ready for war?"
"Yes, sir!" snapped back the soldiers, to this traditional rallying call.
"Then let us prepare to go!" replied Scrivinus, as he lead the two soldiers out of his quarters and began calling for the section leaders, to give them their instructions for the unit to ready itself for march and battle.
The drills and rehearsals had paid off. The unit was ready and the reserves were in their place to guard the fort, while the unit was gone. Scrivinus gave the order to open the gates and as they swung open, Scrivinus and the standard bearer proudly headed the unit out onto the track, heading to the forest and beyond.
The unit marched in quick formation, soon reaching Angelis's dwelling. Angelis went outside and some of the men whistled at her as they passed, others calling out, much to the amusement of their comrades around them.
Angelis scanned the faces of the soldiers as they passed, until she saw Nastin. As he passed, Angelis called out to him. "Find my father! Bring him back!"
Nastin nodded and shouted back. "I will!" He only hoped that he would get that chance and he continued looking at Angelis as they passed until one of the section leaders intervened with a low growl. "Eyes front, lad!"
The pace of the unit was fast, with only two short stops for their rations, a chance for the men to mentally prepare themselves for battle as they took a swig from their canteens, a chance for the section leaders to remind them of what they had practiced. The soldiers needed both to win their battle.
Scrivinus was only too aware of what was needed to win a battle. He had seen his fair share in his time. Each time did not get any easier, each time required his full attention throughout.
Alert at all times, Scrivinus spotted movement in the bushes ahead.
"First Century, Halt! Be ready for my command!"
Scrivinus looked intently at the bushes and saw some movement again.
"First Century, form Line!" The unit quickly organised themselves to line up across the track, leaving no gaps in between by interlocking shields. Swords peeked out, ready to kill.
Scrivinus continued to scan for movement, ready to act. More movement in the bushes! More movement and then onto the track stepped Andronicus and Jamis.
"Impressive, Optio Scrivinus!" shouted Andronicus.
Andronicus smiled at the astonished Scrivinus and his equally astonished men. Clearly having their attention, Andronicus addressed his men.
"Callan did not want peace. Our orders are to retake the chest at all cost in Antiloch. By carrying out these orders, Callun can be killed and Aritan can be spared. I know I can rely on you all! I have seen how fit and able you have become! Put what he have practiced into battle and we will win!"
Andronicus looked at the men's faces and saw that they were with him. "I am proud of you all! First Century, prepare to March!" The soldiers disbanded the line and returned to their marching positions, ready for their final push to Antiloch.
"First Century, March!"



Chapter 19.
The First Century reached the edge of Antiloch well before dawn. On the approach Centurion Andronicus had instructed his men to approach quietly and in silence, in order that they would have the element of surprise.
As hoped, Antiloch was still. There had been much revelry the night before, only soured briefly with the arrest of Aritan for helping the two prisoners to escape. He would be dealt with later, when back in their stronghold further north. Callun and his men had decided last night they would begin their journey back north later the next day.
Andronicus stood with Scrivinus and Jamis, surveying Antiloch ahead. Unlike this sleeping village, Andronicus was alert and ready to commence the attack.
Quietly, he called for the fire archers to take their position. He had two different fire units. Firstly, the archers that had burning material attached to the end of their arrows. Secondly, the archers that had the new iron boxes attached to their arrows, the iron boxes containing hot coals that would ignite their targets and had a greater range.
Andronicus instructed the two units to target the thatch of the buildings and for the unit with the iron box arrows to target the buildings further away, including the Great Hall.
On his signal with a downward swoop of his arm the arrows were released, followed by two other volleys, helped by the archers' assistants providing them each time with their fiery weapon.
The fire arrows found their marks, setting alight the thatch of all the buildings, including the Great Hall. A quiet Antiloch was transformed into the low rumble of fire catching, crackling and snapping the thatch. Shouts and raised voices came from the buildings as half dressed men emerged, startled and dazed.
Andronicus had split his men into three wedges of offences, a left, right and centre. This was to be a quick battle as each group dealt with the men to the left, right and centre of Antiloch.
There was no room for mercy in this fight. Men with or without swords were stabbed by the advancing killing wedge formation of shields and swords. Andronicus, Scrivinus and Nastin at the point of each wedge.
Andronicus stabbed an unarmed man in front, the man falling to the side where he was quickly dispatched by the soldier alongside, another stab to the man's chest as he went down, blood spurting from his mouth and chest, all over the soldier's legs.
A man with his long sword ran full speed at Scrivinus. Scrivinus met the blow. The man was rigid to his spot, unwilling to let his sword give way, then swiftly dispatched by a thrust to the side by the soldier next to Scrivinus, no room for niceties of one on one battles.
Nastin battered the pommel of his sword into a sprinting man with no sword. The instant crunch of a broken nose, the man falling onto the sword point of Nastin's next in line, who released the sword to a torrent of blood.
Jamis in Andronicus's wedge had little to do. He sent some men on their way with further thrusts, releasing his sword as each man fell. There was only going to be one victor in this fight and both sides seemed to know this, the momentum with Andronicus's men.
It would seem that all was nearly over. Nastin stood over one man, wounded on the ground. Nastin grabbed the man's tunic near his throat, lifting the man's head off the ground and shouted in the man's face "Where is Aritan?" Nastin shouted this repeatedly in the man's language, that he had learned from Angelis. "One last chance! Where is Aritan?"
The man looked up at Nastin and spat out his reply through clots of dark blood drooping from his mouth. "Aritan is tied up by the treasure chest, in the room next to the Great Hall."
Nastin lowered the man to the ground and stepped over him and called out to Andronicus.
"Sir! The chest and Aritan are in the room next to the Great Hall!"
"Very good! Soldiers, form wedge on me!" ordered Andronicus, the Great Hall being the last part of the battle.
As before, Callun's men had no chance with the advancing wedge, men half dressed and half armed swept aside by soldiers who stabbed them as they went. Men trampled on and dispatched on the ground, with a final stab, all resistance soon gone. Men that could, began to flee beyond the Great Hall.
Andronicus and his men stood in front of the Great Hall, fire raging from the thatch, the fire arrows having done their incendiary task.
Andronicus's orders were to recover the chest but Andronicus had always done things his own way and he wanted Aritan saved as part of this mission.
"I need two volunteers to go into this burning building with me to save Aritan and the chest!" Andronicus looked at his men, hoping for a response.
Jamis stepped forward, Andronicus acknowledging Jamis with a nod. Would anyone else have the bravery to volunteer, wondered Andronicus? From behind the line of men, a soldier pushed his way through. Andronicus nodded to the man, it was Nastin stepping up for the request.
Andronicus knew there was not a moment to lose. "Scrivinus, take command of the rest of the unit! Volunteers, soak your cloaks in this water!"
Andronicus and the two volunteers took off their cloaks and dipped them in the nearby water trough, quickly putting them on again. Jamis touched the red and yellow amulet around his neck, that Demius the trader had given him for good luck.
"Cover your mouth with your cloak as well. Ready? Let's go!"
Andronicus opened the door to the Great Hall and was met with a great heat. Tentatively the three made their way along the inside wall, stepping over some men that hadn't made it to the outside. It was difficult to see or breathe and Andronicus was relieved when they neared the door of the adjoining room.
They went through and closed the door. It was still difficult to breathe and the three continued to cover their mouths with their cloaks, in between their coughs.
"Jamis, cut Aritan free! Demius, take this end of the chest, I'll take the other end."
Jamis cut Aritan free and carried him to the next door that lead to the outside. Aritan's lifeless body, perhaps he was already dead. He managed to open the door and they struggled out into the outside. Jamis lay Aritan down carefully on the ground, still no sign of life.
Next, Andronicus and Nastin emerged, coughing and spluttering as they dragged the chest out into the open. Soon the coughing was joined by Aritan, who burst into life all of a sudden, with explosive coughs even louder than the others.
In the distance, Andronicus could see the outline of Callun and some others, riding away to the North but in this moment, this did not seem to matter. He had fulfilled his orders to retrieve the chest and Aritan had been saved.
There would be a time for negotiations again but for now that felt as distant as Callun's image, disappearing out of sight.



Chapter 20.
Nastin had been given a day's leave. He sat beside the fire with Angelis, outside her dwelling. Inside his room Aritan sang a melody passed down through generations. The sound carried outside, as Nastin and Angelis stared into the fire, Angelis seeing a child with Nastin's eyes, dancing to the tune.
Jamis stood inside his quarters, the red and yellow amulet and golden torque catching the last of the day's light, as he practiced with his long and short swords, between the old world and the new.
Along the way Andronicus sat with Scrivinus, they too looking into the fire over a glass of warmed wine, while enemies sat far away, plotting their next move. Scrivinus dreamt of his bakery oven in the village he had left behind an
d could almost smell the fresh bread he used to make.
Andronicus held a silver coin between his fingers, found in the corner this evening, one that must have somehow fallen from the chest. The coin slipped from his fingers and he wondered if it would land heads or tails. It did neither, rolling on its edge, it disappeared down the gaps between the wooden floor.
Andronicus decided to leave it there, as an offering for future generations, to perhaps be found in thousands of years time, who would wonder what had been before.
The End.
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