Helix

Get Up

23 AD

"Get up." The commander general's steel laced tone repeated the same two words, for what had to be well over the thousandth time during the past four years of training.

Red blood dripped from his nose and mouth, down his chin, and onto his black tunic. Helix had taken to wearing predominantly black clothing shortly after his private training with commander Ynyr began. Truth be told he got tired of having to work blood stains out. Getting his feet underneath him, he rose. He did not bother wiping his face, it hurt enough without adding that pain, especially when chances were he'd just get it hit again.

This mornings flavor of training was hand to hand combat drills. Helix had thought he was improving. Yet, he ended up right back on the ground, again. It was always the same. It did not seem to matter that he went from sixteen and so weak he would repeatedly throw his guts up after a couple mile run, to twenty and able to run through an entire night, in any weather. Ynyr could still outrun him. It did not matter that his fighting skills, both unarmed and armed,  went from unable to block a single punch, to being able to beat every other soldier in his rank and most of the captains as well. Still, commander Ynyr sent him to the ground in every single practice match. The commander general was the only man Helix had never seen anyone beat.

Ynyr, he had discovered was a bit of a legend. The late Germanicus Julius Caesar had personally given Ynyr, the Grass Crown, one of the highest and rarest of all Roman military awards. To hear his veteran forces tell the story, he had single-handedly won the battle at Weser River, a battle that ultimately ended the germanic rebellion. They said the man had somehow taken his cohort of infantry around behind the enemy, then proceeded to charge with his men into the fray.  Ynyr was rumored to have personally killed hundreds of men that day without receiving a single scratch.

Slipping into his stance Helix adjusted himself under Ynyr's hyper-perceptive gaze. "Balls of your feet boy. If your flat on your feet, your flat on your back. Again."

Obeying, he balanced his weight evenly on the balls of his feet, watching Ynyr for the inevitable attack. He mirrored the commander's motions as they circled. Left foot, right foot. With the grace of a natural born predator, Ynyr suddenly uncoiled his limbs.  Helix sidestepped the first kick, aimed low at his legs, then rebounded to the right, narrowly avoiding a punch to the face. The man moved like a striking serpent at this distance!

Stepping in close, Helix opted for a grappling maneuver. Grasping his commanders still slightly extended left arm,  Helix jerked hard hooking his own left arm up and under Ynyr's armpit, while simultaneously stepping into place behind his opponents left foot. With a grunt and another violent downward yank on the wrist, he pivoted to the right on the ball of his foot continuing to pull the man off-balance. Ynyr hit the ground on his back with a muffled thud.

Wasting no time, Helix launched forward in an attempt to pin the man before he could recover. Faster then his eyes could follow Ynyr barrel rolled right letting Helix, who had overextended his balance, crash to his hands and knees beside him. Rolling up and behind Helix, Ynyr grabbed him. For a flickering instant, the younger man struggled, muscles straining like a drawn bowstring. The commander's legs caught one of Helix's, a split second before forcing them both into a roll. In the crystalline silence both men's ragged breaths could be heard, as Ynyr held the younger man on top of him, his hands linked and pulled Helix's head down.

Bright flashes cascaded across his view of the afternoon sky as hot searing pain lanced through his back and neck. Helix sucked in air, unable to move anything but a single arm. Flailing wildly, he tapped three times, signaling his submission.

Ynyr released the hold and stood, lightly brushing the sand from his trousers. Meanwhile, Helix sat on the ground, leaning back on his hands, wincing from the lingering strain on his vertebrae. By all the gods, why did he always fail against Ynyr? Even though none of the other men said anything, it was embarrassing to not at least be able to strike the man once in a while.