Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.
I slowly opened my eyes, trying to not alert anyone to my waking. There was the dull thudding sound of flesh being hit. I sat up carefully, my muscles screaming in pain. The cold stone floor had done nothing to help them after yesterday’s work. I missed my old bed of straw.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
A cry of pain ending in a whimper. Was that Ederest’s voice? What had he done this time?
I moved my protesting legs sed a wall to help me stand.
This bunker was one of the better ones I had been in, but it got so very cold.
“P-please, I did nothing,” Ederest’s voice cried out.
“Shut up, slave.” The deep, gravelly voice of the night guard echoed into our room. Ederest whimpered again but otherwise stayed silent.
I crept over to the doorway and hunkered down in the shadows. I peered out and saw Lucas standing over Ederest. Lucas was a huge man and towered even above me. Tall for a Roman but I was from the outer tribes where this height was normal.
A slow, flickering flame cast its light on several tent walls, alerting Lucas and me to someone’s presence.
“Get back to bed. Don’t forget this,” Lucas growled and kicked Ederest through the doorway. He came to a sprawling stop in a tangle of limbs right next to me. I leant over to see Lucas stalk off and disappear into the shadows, nearly walking into a messenger. So that was who had the light. I stood up and checked on Ederest before following the messenger.
He was definitely new to the camp and had no idea I was following him. He had left his coin purse very visible on his belt and looed directly into the torch light, ruining his vision.
He walked past the waste pits and nearly threw up. I heard him curse about the lack of hygiene. Fresh from Rome, then. His uniform was a crisp blue and the crest was a castle above a shield. He was from Sabellia.
Strange. I hadn’t seen many of their people around for a long while.
He turned towards the centre of the camp, where all the lords and generals were. I needed to leave before I was found away from my area, but I was curious. I’d heard of the punishments for disobedience from Ederest and some others, but I couldn’t pull myself away. This man was from a small family, but he was here and unchallenged. Even Lucas had run from him. Something was going on and I needed to know.
I started to get closer to him and was thinking about snatching his coin purse when a hand slammed onto my shoulder.
“Slave, what are you doing scampering about in the dark?” I spun and dropped into a combative pose without thought. As I realized what I’d done, I let myself fall to the dirt, acting like I’d lost my balance.
“Get up, you worthless thing,” the person snarled, swinging a leg at me. I let it hit my ribs and got up slowly.
“I’m sorry, Master, I just got off a special task for my Lord and I don’t quite know my way around the camp yet and got lost.” I changed my accent to a light Eastern one and hoped he wouldn’t ask for the Lords name.
“Just this once I’ll leave you alone. Go back to your barracks now or you’ll be punished severely.” I nodded my head and bowed deeply, walking backwards away from the person who caught me.
Stupid, stupid, stupid, I cursed at myself as I slid through the shadows of the camp. This was the closest in a few years that I’d been to sneaking through the trees of home. I missed the clean scent in the air and the winding trails. Every Roman road was as straight as an arrow and I was sick of it. I also missed the changing seasons. The climate was so mild and it only got cold at night.
My thoughts plagued me all the way back to my barracks. They circled back to the dark thoughts that often came when I wasn’t busy. I wasn’t made for this life, yet I was leading it. Life was beating me as soundly as Lucas beat Ederest.
No. I forced myself to stop thinking. That was a dark path. I would lose myself again if I went down there.
I entered the barracks and stepped around Ederest who was still lying in the entrance. I picked him up without thought and carried him to his blanket, being careful not to disturb his sleep. It was several hours till dawn and he needed the sleep. Unlike me. I seemed to barely need it now that I was away from home. Was it a corruption of the Roman’s false god, Mars? Probably not. I’d heard several elders telling hunters to stay within our borders as the old magics there were what let us function as we did. I hadn’t believed it at the time but now I found myself clinging to anything that reminded me of home.
I settled back down onto the floor, in the only warm space in the entire camp, and tried to sleep again. My nostrils stung from the scents of people crammed together coupled with livestock in similar conditions. It was so different to the soft smell of pine and, in summer, lavender that I was used to.
The Romans had killed my people in a bloody slaughter in the dead of night. They left few women and men alive to press into slavery- the women’s jobs more terrible than the men’s. If I close my eyes sometimes I still heard the screams and smelt the blood.
Blood.
I was no stranger to animal blood, my parent’s home was right next to the leather makers. Human blood, however I had never seen in such vast quantities. The smell of it was sickening and often made me bring up whatever I had eaten that day.
It was driving me insane. Everything was.
A week march out of Rome proper and I was going stir crazy. The constant loud noises, the dust the smells of badly tended animals, rotting or cooking meat. The constant calls of the slavers to us to go faster, put more concrete- at least that’s what I’d heard it called- down. The crack of their whips and the stifled cries of the victims. It needed to end. I needed to get out of here. I hadn’t done a thing besides comply. I ought be free. I wished to be free.
I slammed my head against the wall In a vain hope to get rid of the thoughts. It worked for a short while. Then my thoughts turned to getting away; how to get food and water, how to hide from the patrols that would inevitably come after me.
I mused upon my secret until the soft dawn light slid through the camp and songbirds sang their happy songs. And then the rest of the camp woke. The sounds of nature were drowned out by people shouting, horses whinnying and splashes of water. The morning sun was blocked by the dust kicked up and I inwardly cringed. These people had no idea how sacred the new day was. To ruin it further, Lucas walked through the doorway and threw water on all the slaves near him, waking them.
“Rise and shine, layabouts, your day has begun.” He sounded happy and shot a look at Ederest, seemingly proud of his handiwork.
I got up before Lucas had a chance to see me staring and stretched, having to bend my arms at the elbow to stop them hitting the roof. The other slaves still regarded me as alien, a ting to be careful of. I was taller than everyone, save Lucas, and had lean muscle everywhere, making me stronger than I seemed to be. I could carry on my own what took two of the others to do normally. This meant I was usually placed on the relatively easy duty of delivering different materials to different zones and I was envied and despised for it. I didn’t mind too much.
“You there, Germanic,” Lucas’s tone was dangerous as he used the nickname I’d picked up. I loathed it. It did its intended job well, further reminding the others that I was different. Trying to conceal my quiet rage, I faced him and tilted my head to the side. I’d convinced Lucas I was mute so I didn’t have to waste energy trying to be polite.
“A messenger came last night. You’re expected to go back to Rome with him.” The message made several of the others, including Ederest, look at me with jealous eyes. I ignored the crazed stares and looked at Lucas once more and raised and eyebrow.
“I’ll escort you to him, once these useless things get to their normal masters!” He bellowed the last few words, causing the other slaves to jump and look like they had wet themselves.
“Vromero ferals,” I heard Lucas mutter, translating the regional Greek to myself.
The rest of the slaves dispersed quickly, trying not to anger Lucas even more. No one wanted to risk a lashing, or worse, a beating. As the last person shuffled off Lucas turned to me and regarded me with open hostility.
“Why you’re getting to go back home, I have no idea. Such a useless, mute slave. Malaka. Are you for the new colosseum?” Lucas’s slow thoughts and casual curse yet again reminded me that he was a soldier. I tilted my head again, pretending to not understand. The colosseum. I was being sent to die or earn my freedom. Death or glory, as the crazy Romans said.
“Come along, Germanic, there’s a good slave.” He used the same voice as one might use to coax a newly whelped pup away from its mother. I followed obediently, trotting along at his heels as he lead me through the same part of camp I’d found myself in last night.
I eagerly drank in the sights that were hidden to me in the dark, not fully understanding the weird numerals yet. Lucas continued to softly talk to me, thinking I was a timid, fearful slave. As he lead me past where I was previously caught, I fervently hoped the man who saw me was already gone for the morning or wouldn’t step out when we were in sight. I held my breath and tried to strain every sense I possessed to make sure I wouldn’t be surprised by anything. My legs had turned to warm dough and I could barely stay standing. I started tapping my fingers against my thumb in the same pattern I had drilled into me long ago. It was meant to lessen the effect of the Thrill, the battle rage that was common to my people.
These Romans had the same thing but it was coupled with competent commanders and tacticians. A formidable and blood thirsty thought, indeed.
I turned my attention back to Lucas when he stopped in front of what used to be a bright blue tent and knocked on a pole out front. He walked in, motioning for me to follow. I quickly looked and noted everything I could in the tent. There was a lavish couch with bright coloured pillows strewn about it. A small triangular table to its left with an old platter of meats and cheese and a wine pewter that had water trickling down the outside. There was a cutting knife next to the platter and I didn’t look for too long, lest Lucas noticed. The light was only good around the centre of the spacious tent, with the sides stuck in a gloom that was difficult to penetrate. The sounds from outside were blocked out by the thick cloth and I could hear Lucas’s slight panting. I could smell his sweat, the slightly sweet smell of wine, warm meat and lavender.
Lavender?
As I thought this, the messenger I had seen the night before stepped out of the gloom, the full purse still on his belt. He studied me and foolishly, I met his eyes. In an instant his face was turned up in displeasure and something hit my head, near the ear. I saw white lights and shook my head to clear them. My ear rand slightly and I tried to ignore it.
“See, sir, he’s a good fit for what you want,” Lucas’s voice sounded odd to me. The other man replied in Greek from a province I didn’t know.
“Yes, sir, he’s a mute. But he’s strong and as you saw, he can take a hit.” The messenger nodded and unhooked his purse. Greed sparkled in Lucas’s eyes and I realized I’d been sold. The Sabellia man chucked the purse to Lucas, who caught it and turned around in one deft motion.
“Stay here, there’s a god fellow,” he said softly then stalked away. I watched with wary eyes, feeling betrayed if not surprised. Then a punch to my stomach bent me double and a kick to the back of my leg felled me. Another kick to my ribs sent me rolling into the table, sending the contents flying. The small, near-useless knife landed next to me and I rolled over to it, knowing that I could use it. I picked it up and hid it behind me. Sabellia came at me again, a malevolent glint in his eyes and a small smile. I was overcome by a burning rage and sprung up, holding the knife to stab. I was taller than him by a head and stabbed him in the eye easily, hearing the soft pop and feeling the knife thud when the hilt hit his eye socket. I quickly put a hand over his mouth to stifle his scream and ignored the blood, tears and eye juices running down my other hand.
I took the knife out and chucked it on the floor, then quickly snapped his neck. I strained my hearing to tell if anyone had heard the commotion. I was panting and could hear my heart racing and blood pounding in my ears. I was shaky from the adrenaline and could feel the Thrill sneaking up on me.
I quickly stripped the man of his uniform and stretched it over my longer limbs. I could only just squeeze my shoulders in and the sleeves were too tight around my wrists. I struggled with the tiny buttons and placing the collar correctly and soon gave up. What I had done would just have to do.
I stepped out into the blinding light and noise. I looked similar enough to the messenger and no one tried to stop or talk to me. I saw a horse picketed close by and I beelined towards it.
Freedom. I’d sought it out for so long and I could finally take it. I needed to get very far away before they found the body and alarm was raised. A horse would definitely help.
This one was a large grey war horse with soft, kind, dark brown eyes. As I approached I talked softly in my language, just the way I had been taught. I tentatively put a hand on his forelock, adrenaline racing through me. He let me pet him and I climbed on, noticing that ‘he’ was really a she.
I settled into the saddle, cursing at my luck. The stirrups were too short. I continued to grumble as I picked up the reigns and set off, feet hanging beside the stirrups.
I picked my way through the tents and people, barely breathing. Surely someone would notice I wasn’t Roman. I kept imagining what I would do if someone did notice, when my fate was sealed.
The alarm bells rang.
I kicked the horse into a canter, not caring what, or who, I knocked over. I knew I looked like a madman but I didn’t care. I was so close to freedom. My freedom.
The horse screamed and folded over its front legs, its neck snapping with a wet crack. I struggled to get it off my legs, Thrill rising. My eyes darted wildly to find the source of the attack. Nothing, no one. People screamed and ran everywhere in a mess. No one. No visible attacker. Where? Where? Where? My thoughts raced as I panicked. I heard a soft whistle and recognised it instantly. Arrow. Duck. I flattened myself against the ground, an arrow passing through the space my head just was. I managed to move what used to be a horse off my legs and scrambled to my feet. I kept low and walked right into a hit. White light exploded behind my eyes and I threw my arms up to try and defend myself. I felt another arrow pass by my ear and winced at its sound. I could smell one of my attackers breath close by and tackled where I thought they were. I was rewarded by a wall of flesh and we were both sent tumbling to the dusty ground. He rolled me onto my back and just as I got my guard up he started raining punches to my head. I moved it from side to side, making ho munch the ground. The Thrill raged inside of me and I threw myself into its control. It greeted me like an old friend with a warm embrace and threw a handful of dirt into my enemies face. He cursed and stumbled over his own limbs. I was up in an instant and set upon him like a starving wolf upon a sickly deer. I revelled in the sound oh his nose breaking and laughed at his cries for mercy.
“This is what you do to slaves,” I hissed as an arrow passed through my foot. I ignored it, too full of Thrill to feel pain. I punched the man beneath me in the neck, ending his pitiful sobs. I felt strong hands lift me up and I scratched, bit, clawed and kicked to get free.
“He’s gone feral!” A panicked and disgusted cry pierced my ears. I stopped moving for a split second and the Romans fell on me like a sailor falls upon liquor. I felt bones breaking, heard the Romans laughter and their insults. Something inside broke as well as my bones.
I zoned out, numb to emotion and living in the pain.
I eventually realised they had stopped beating me and I was being carried somewhere. Every step sent new spikes of pain, white-hot and all consuming, through my body.
Just as I was ready to beg for mercy, I was dropped onto the hot ground, my head bouncing off a jagged rock. I heard more laughter, jeers and curses from the cowards as they left me. I managed to crack open my eyes and barely saw the distant camp. Tears sprung to my eyes as I realized my fate. I closed them again and lay my head back, surrendering myself to the inevitable.
