by C K Ruppelt
Upon being freed, father and children had taken the old master’s name Churinas as their own. Unfortunately, the master had been a foreigner without Roman citizenship which would have transferred to his former slaves.
She was old enough to understand that her father had to pay every week for the loan he had taken out to start the bakery, that the little money they had went to the rent of the small bakery with its single backroom that was the family’s shared bedroom. The business had started out well but turned into a struggle soon after. The grain had become cheaper for several years, taking baked bread prices down with it. Her father had told her and Numerius that the grain came from big plantations on Sicilia and Sardinia which kept producing more each year, but she did not understand why that also meant they had less money to spend.
Velia relaxed, feeling safe in her father’s arms. With a papa like hers, the world around her held no real dangers.
685 AUC (69 BC), fall
Small village thirty miles west of Tbessa, Kingdom of Numidia
“Oz, Anno is gone!” Adhe ran up a dusty street of their village, tears streaming down his face. “I just went to see her, but her house was empty. The neighbor told me the whole family packed up and left for one of the big cities. They just walked out without knowing where they would end up.”
“I am so sorry, Ade. I know how much you liked that girl,” Oz replied, giving the boy a tight hug. Another family gone, on top of the horrible news I have to bring home.
Anno’s family was one more in a steady stream of locals heading out east to Tbessa, or north to any number of other big Numidian cities in the hope of finding work and food. Or at least enough charity to take the edge off their loved ones’ hunger. “You can’t blame her parents. The soldiers are eating the little food still left in the village, while the drought is worse than ever. Even our new well is running low, and we are part of the lucky few with any water left at all.” Oz let Adhe go and started their walk back to the farm.
“I heard several families talking about going south to join the nomads, at least before the king’s soldiers showed up and took everybody’s horses. Our village is going through hard times as it is. Having the soldiers here, eating what little food people have is not helping.” Oz knew all the stories about how Numidia was full of horse-riding nomads until a few generations ago, when the new nation’s first kings dreamed of following the Carthaginian and Roman examples. They had forcefully bought up horses everywhere to compel the tribes to settle. The families and tribes opposed to the new lifestyle had moved south, to continue in the old ways on the plains along the southern edges of the Atlas Mountains, outside the sphere of influence of the kings. Which was why the Numidian soldiers where here now. They had stopped at their village on the way back from capturing slaves among the free southern nomadic tribes.
Adhe was first through their front door ahead of Oz, who was glad to see all their family assembled, including his Niptaso, who he walked up to for a tight squeeze. There was a lively discussion going on at the table.
“We still don’t know how much longer the soldiers are going to stay. In the meantime, they are still tyrannizing everyone. Worse, they take any remaining food and animals without even asking. All for provisioning themselves and their new slaves for the trip back to Cirta,” his sister Salpo said.
“I know they think we’re kin of the free folk roaming the plains, seeing as far south we are from the capital,” Mipsa said from across the table. “The captain told the village elders that the king can no longer pay the high tribute to Rome with wheat or marble alone, which is why they need to pay with slaves instead.”
Oz’s father Isalkis cleared his throat. “He only told us that so we would all understand his threat that he might just take our villagers next year if we don’t freely hand over all our animals.”
The whole family seemed to hold its breath in reaction, before everybody started talking at the same time. Isalkis held up his hand, effectively cutting off all voices. “Let’s eat first. With the little left, it would be a shame to let the meal get cold.”
The family settled around the dinner table. All conversation postponed for the moment, Oz appreciated how lucky they were to have enough food for one decent meal a day. They still had water for their field, and the meat from his hunts. Many of the other villagers were going hungry all the time.
The spoons were laid down, and their bowls shoved to the center of the table. Mipsa spoke up first, looking at his father-in-law for approval. “Our family needs to stay quiet, I do not want anyone to meet the soldiers again. They already took half of our herd, do not give them any reason to come back for the rest.”
Isalkis nodded. “My thoughts exactly. I already told the other elders we shouldn’t meet anymore until after the soldiers ride back for Cirta.”
Oz cleared his throat and received his father’s nod to talk next. The usually so energetic family sat quietly and expectantly at the table. Now I will give them even more bad news. The worst kind. He took a deep breath.
“I’ve been over to Hiempsa’s before lunch to help him and his family with a little of our food. You all know that he complained directly to the captain yesterday about the soldiers taking all his animals.” He saw the nods and held his breath for a moment, Hiempsa’s wife and children’s pain too fresh in his mind. “This morning he got so angry that he hit one of the captain’s lieutenants. The man had his soldiers kill him for it.”
“Oh no, not Hiempsa!” Isalkis blurted out about his friend.
On the other side of the table from Oz, Salpo started crying hard. Hiempsa’s widow was a good friend of hers.
“That’s not all. As if killing him was not enough, the lieutenant took his men back to Hiempsa’s farm and cleaned it out. They even burned the furniture, leaving nothing for the family.”
They all absorbed the news until Salpo stopped her sobbing and stood up. “She has family in Tbessa. With Hiempsa dead, I’m sure she will go there as soon as she is able. I will go to visit them now, feel free to join me.”
Isalkis muttered to himself while he gathered some necessities to share with Hiempsa’s family. They had little left themselves.
***
A couple of days later, the entire village rejoiced when the soldiers left to deliver the new slaves to their king in Cirta.
Soon after, Oz and Adhe hiked across the top of a hill a few miles south of their home while out on another hunting excursion. It was fall, but the day’s heat still felt like full summer. Oz looked around the brown-green hilltop which was spotted with lots of shrubs. He always kept a wary lookout for hidden vipers. When he glanced up to see past the razorback ridge they were on he saw dust rise in the distance.
“Adhe, look,” he said, pointing to the southeast from their position.
“What’s that, uncle?” Adhe asked.
Oh no, that can’t mean anything good. Oz felt sick to his stomach as he looked back at his nephew. “That means riders Adhe, lots of riders coming from the south, likely heading for our village. We better get back home now.” He started running, trusting the young boy to follow.
As they came closer to the village, he saw thick smoke. Some of the mud-covered houses and their grass patched roofs were burning bright.
Who is this? They saw a body on the last hill before entering the village. The man had several arrows sticking out his back. The dark tunic seemed very familiar. Let it not be true. He became certain as they approached. Oh, Father. Oz turned the body on its side to check for any signs of life. Isalkis’ face, always showing a quick smile for his children or grandchildren, was frozen in an expression of alarm. His father had always been fearless; he had died running back to warn the family. May we see each other again in the next life. I don’t know how long it has been since I told you how much I love you.
His tears started to flow freely, covering his face and blurring his vision. He closed his father’s eyes, just as Adhe dropped down beside him. “Grandfather? Grandfather?” the boy
wailed. Oz grabbed Adhe and held tight, rocking him for several minutes.
The fear for their other loved ones pushed through his immediate grief. He scanned northeast towards their side of the village until he found their own home at the outskirts. He took a deep breath. “We have to go, Adhe, we need to look for the others. Are you ready? We need to stay low and quiet. Do you understand?”
Adhe nodded. The boy was in a bad state, shaken to his core, but they had to keep going. Oz strung his bow and nocked an arrow before moving. They saw nobody else, though a big plume of dust showed that the raiders headed back south from the burning buildings at the other end of the village. He ran the distance to their house, with Adhe close behind. As they approached, the blood on the ground turned his stomach. Please, please, no. He stopped, frozen to the porch in front of the door, staring at the big bloodstains on the stone steps leading through the doorway, until he could hear muted wailing coming from the inside.
“It’s Adhe and Oz,” he said before bursting through the heavy curtain of the doorway. He stopped, the stench of blood and death overwhelming. He tried to make sense of what he saw, but his mind couldn’t handle the impressions right away. Finally, reality snapped into focus. The blood on the floor in front of him trailed into different directions. Right in front of him, his brother-in-law’s powerful body lay on the floor close to the big table, a hole in his chest. His eyes moved on to Salpo. His lively, always strong sister kneeled helplessly next to her husband, wailing. His eyes kept moving to yet another body. He pushed himself to take a step forward before he saw it was Malamsa, his oldest nephew. His head had been cut open, his usually quick and intelligent eyes now staring lifeless. He realized that he heard a second noise beside his sister’s cries. He turned until he saw young Adhe. The boy had come in behind him, and had slid down the wall, now holding his head and making small animal noises. Oz snapped out of his pain to grab the boy. He pulled him outside to sit him down on the bench on their front porch. “Stay here, don’t move.” He gave Adhe a quick hug before going back inside. “I’ll be back with your mother.” He walked up to Salpo and now also noticed Sophona, Adhe’s middle brother. The boy sat silent in the far corner with his head in his hands. Upon closer inspection, Oz found a grisly cut in the side of the boy’s upper stomach, freely bleeding. He tenderly lifted Sophona before he felt the boy go slack as he carried him outside. He gently lowered him to the ground and leaned his back against the wall. Next, he went back to pull Salpo away from Mipsa and Malamsa. His sister started fighting him, hitting and screaming, until he pulled her close for a hug. “Shh, shh. It’s Oz, your brother.” Her eyes focused enough to recognize him. “Come outside with me.” He guided her through the front door and sat her down next to Adhe. When he took his hands away from her back, they were red from fresh blood. He tried to lift her tunic, but she held his hands tight, shaking her head. She continued to softly cry until she caught herself enough to speak.
“They came over the hill with no warning, killing all the men outside. Mipsa, Malamsa, and the girls had already gone back to the house for lunch. Sophona and I were following when the screams started. We walked on until we saw hundreds of riders, free Numidians from the south. Men looking just like our own. They were so very angry; they must have been from the tribe the king’s soldiers raided last week. I tried to stay hidden with Sophona at the edge of the field. But when I saw Mipsa coming outside to see what was going on… He walked right up to a couple of them, asking them what they were doing. And one of them just shoved his spear into him.” She had to stop talking for a moment, holding on to Oz tightly. After a deep breath, she continued. “I screamed when they did that to my Mipsa, I just couldn’t help it. If I hadn’t, they might not have found us. I guess I passed out because one of them must have circled around and stabbed us from behind. When I came back to, I saw them drag Juvo and Niptaso out of the house. Niptaso bled from her side when they led her away, she must have fought. Then the last of them moved on to the other side of the village and I brought Sophona here.” Salpo let go of Oz and stared into nothing, unable to focus through her tears. “There may be little hope, but you must follow them.” She slipped off the bench to sink down next to Sophona, pulling him close. When Adhe moved over to join, she included him in the circle of her arms.
Oz took a long look at his sister and the boys before leaving the house at a run. He started towards the burning houses at the far side of the village. As he got closer, he saw more and more bodies of villagers through his blurry eyes, plus several dead horses. He understood now. The farther away from the initial attack, the more warning their friends and neighbors had to gather for a semblance of defense. He hoped that meant that at least some of their women and children had gotten away. He kept wiping his fresh tears away as he moved out from between the houses to cut across the raider’s path leading south. After following for a couple of hours, he started to feel odd. His tears stopped flowing and he started to feel very cold inside, as if all feeling had left him. It did give him back some ability to think. I don’t know that I can catch up to them when they are on horseback, but I need to try.
If he didn’t catch up with the raiders before they reached the foothills of the Aures mountains, he would lose them for good.
***
It was the end of the second night. Oz rose and started to hike. Exhausted as he was, he could still not sleep more than an hour or two at a time. He still felt nothing inside, as if emotionally drained. Time was running out; his growing thirst and hunger made things worse. He hadn’t been able to stretch the few pieces of dried meat and the half-empty water skin left over from the hunting excursion for long. He was still half a day behind the raiders, sure to reach the open grasslands later today.
The sun came out to light up the ridges all around him. Usually a beautiful sight, today it seemed an omen of doom. The foothills here looked like overgrown sand dunes instead of rock and stone. He kept methodically walking, following the path of the raiders. The hundreds of horses had left a wide swath, impossible to miss.
As he rounded another bend, he saw abandoned fire pits. Approaching for a closer look he made out a figure lying face down on the far side and hurried over. The work tunic was a common sight and could have been anybody’s, but the familiar curly dark brown hair made his stomach drop. No, not you as well. He reached the woman and dropped to his knees. The whole side of her body was a mix of dried and wet blood. He turned her around, all his feeling rushing back in a torrent. He started screaming uncontrollably the moment he saw the beloved face of his wife, now void of all expression. My beautiful Niptaso. He held her body tight, rocking back and forth, unable to do anything else. After what seemed forever, a stray thought about his niece pushed him back up. He moved in a pain-induced trance, with no hope that he could reach the raiders before they were lost in the vastness of the open lands. Yet, he needed to try. I wish I still had some hope for my precious niece.
He walked all day through the heat until he reached the open sands. There were no landmarks visible across the vastness of the desolate landscape, and the heat had become unbearable. His mouth was too dry to swallow, every breath was painful. I will die if I don’t turn around. I need to get back to Salpo and the boys.
He sunk to his knees in defeat. I am so sorry, Juvo.
***
Three days later, Oz tumbled through the doorway and fell to the floor. After what seemed like ages, he pulled himself up with the help of the kitchen table. The bodies had been dragged into a corner, blankets loosely draped over them. The sweet smell of decay filling the room was gagging him. If he had anything in his stomach, he would have lost it. He pushed himself the few more steps to the room at the back of the house.
Sophona and Salpo were both laying on two of the family’s sleeping cots, with Adhe sitting between them on a small stool. Sophona had a makeshift wrap around his stomach, though the boy’s life-less eyes starred at the ceiling. Adhe, sitting defeatedly with slumped shoulders, kept dabbing Sal
po’s forehead mechanically with a damp towel. Oz’s sister was on her side, her once so expressive and beautiful face ashen. Oz walked up to Adhe and put a comforting hand on his nephew’s shoulder. “Come with me to the porch. Your mother”—Oz’ voice broke. It took a moment before he could pull Adhe off his stool to hug him tightly. “Your mother is gone. They all are,” he whispered.
On the way outside, Oz grabbed the water urn from their little kitchen area. They sat on the bench, and he drained the thing in one long drink. He felt a little steadier, but knew he needed at least a few hours of sleep before he could tackle digging graves, even if he kept them shallow. He looked out at the setting sun in anger. Curse the king. Curse the gods that allowed this to happen. My sister, my nephews, Mipsa. Niptaso, my beautiful wife. I will see you all again soon, whenever the fickle gods decide it to be my time to follow you. He was surprised that his body still had any tears left to give.
685 AUC (69 BC), summer
Corduba, Capital of Roman Province Hispania Ulterior
Caesar sat in his small office in the official headquarter of the province, holding a letter in his hands from his mother Aurelia. He looked out the window, but his eyes could not focus on the clouds floating by. His mind drifted back to a conversation he had with his wife late last winter on an especially cold day, colder than any other winter he remembered.
“So that means you will be gone for a whole year?” Cornelia asked Caesar.
The couple sat around a small portable coal brazier burning on the desk of Caesar’s study. Their six-year-old daughter Julia was with her tutor in one of the open alcoves off the atrium, where a huge Caminus burned big pieces of split wood, staving off the chill of the day.
“Yes, definitely a whole year. As soon as the spring weather permits, I’ll sail to Hispania Ulterior. Gaius Antistius Vetus is governor there this year, and I’ve been allotted to serve him as quaestor,” he answered.
