The Demons of Rome

II - The Issue of the Goat

Iatus sat on the side of the street, holding his head up with his hand. It was not yet dawn but the first people of the day were already beginning to wander about.

The Ether had been nice, Iatus supposed, it had been much like this world, except there were no people. No cities or towns or farms, just forests and hills and seas. It had been peaceful, and empty.

Iatus sighed. He supposed he had better get to work. He smiled to himself at the irony, not once in his life did he think that he would have to say that. As a beggar his greatest hope had been that someone might give him a coin so he could eat, and as a mage he had been promised power and glory. Now as a powerful spirit, he was a scribe, and being fired.

He picked himself up off the road, brushed himself off and headed back to the palace. The scribes all worked in the administrative offices on the first floor. It was dull, tedious work and Iatus hated it, and the people who took such great pride in it.

"Good morning Iatus!" one of them called, all too cheerfully.

"Good morning Lysias," Iatus replied, forcing a smile.

"Iatus! Get in here now!" came a shout from the biggest office on the floor.

Iatus visibly shrunk in size. Oberon was in charge of all the administrative work in Judea, and a fatter, more self-righteous, jobsworth man Iatus had never met.

Iatus glumly opened the door and strolled in.

"Sit down boy," Oberon said gruffly from behind the mountain of papers and reports that covered his desk.

Iatus sat down and Oberon stood up to peer over the papers at him.

"I hear that you got fired last night. You were a good scribe but I can't say I'm surprised. You see, you rise up too soon and you get shoved back down again. Better to ascend the ranks steadily, at the right pace, like the rest of us did."

"However," he continued more seriously, "You are still a scribe here for a few more days, and I don't expect to see a drop in your work. On that note, I have a special job for you, a couple of legionaries were called to a farm late last night, some goats killed by bandits, or something, apparently they left some writing behind and no-one can figure out what it says. You look like you could do with a good walk out to the hills, it's the Al'Mazi farm to the north-east, if you leave now you should get there by midday."

He should just incinerate the man now, he was just asking for it, and there wasn't anything more Max could do to him, but something stopped him, perhaps Aelith's remarks had got to him. Instead he nodded and walked out.

He would go, but he wasn't going to take half a day to walk there. Travelling through the Ether took a lot of mana and put a strain on the bond between human and spirit, but Iatus thought it was worth it. And he hoped Max hurt.

When he was sure nobody could see, he blinked out of existence and reappeared on a hilltop. He felt the connection between himself and Max shudder under the strain and he smiled to himself.

The surroundings consisted of fairly flat plains, covered in coarse, dry grass, suitable only for the hardiest animals to live off, hence the goats. The goats were both everywhere and nowhere. They were spread thinly about but however far you walked you could always see at least half a dozen meandering about.

The nearest settlement was a small building to the north, made of mud, but what drew Iatus' eye was the glinting of armour at the bottom of the hill.

Three men stood around a dead goat. Two wore the armour of legionaries, the third was a local, dark skinned and wearing cloth around his head to keep off the sun. As Iatus watched the three men seemed to be having an argument, aggravated even further by the language barrier. After a particularly spiteful remark the goatherd threw his hands in the air and stormed off.