Dragons and Romans

by William David Ellis

  “It saw us! It saw us!” Miriam exclaimed. “It saw us and started to turn toward us! Did you see that?”

  Elijah mumbled, “Of course, it did, daughter. When the dragon is under control of the high priest, it sees what he sees. And since the high priest is also a creature of the abyss, he sees in the spirit as well as you do. Right now, the dragon inhabits two worlds, mine and yours. The world of the spirit and the world of the flesh. If we meet him in the spirit, he will be darker and deadlier. All of that is dependent on Asdrubal continuing to possess him. We wrestle not against flesh and blood, Miriam. That is Regulus’ job.”

  They continued racing over the battle, where she saw the Roman phalanxes, arrayed like blocks of stone, blocking the dark hordes that hurled themselves against them.

  She also saw things in the heavenlies that hovered over the battle, creatures of the spirit. Some were dark and faceless, with whips in shriveled hands driving the men on both sides. Others, creatures of light, hovered over the dying.

  She watched, speechless, as the souls of those killed in battle rose from the broken shapes of their bloodied bodies. Some were engulfed in light, and for an instant she could see their faces lit with joy before they quickly faded from sight.

  She kept watching amazed as other souls recently killed rose up out of their bodies, only to be captured by huge, dark, faceless creatures, whose gnarled hands held whips and massive basket-like cages full of the souls of the wicked. Miriam was stunned by the loud cries of the battle flowing around her. Ear-piercing screams and heartbreaking cries pounded her ears and heart as the reapers gathered in the writhing souls of the fallen.

  She was taken aback to see that both Roman and Carthaginian souls were met by the black cages as well as the brilliant light. It did comfort her a bit that more Romans than Carthaginians were entering the light although she did not have long to consider it.

  Elijah set them down in the depths of a dimly lit dungeon. They entered a cell. She was surprised to see Decemus the soldier, who with his team, had rescued her and her baby from the flames of the sacrificial pyre.

  Elijah said, “We are here to strengthen this man, Miriam. They are going to go after the dark one who has taken Asdrubal’s place. They are extremely important to the outcome of this battle.”

  “What do you want me to do?” She whispered. As she spoke, she noticed Decemus in the straw sleeping. Then she gasped as she saw him rise from his body and move forward toward them, a dazed look on his face.

  “Domina Miriam? What are you doing here?”

  Before she could think, she answered, “I am here to encourage you, Decemus.” Suddenly the words flowed from her. “Do you remember when you were a child, your mother would sing over you and pray for you? Do you remember her saying how extraordinary you were and that you would be the one to cast down kingdoms and raise up the destitute and revenge the burned ones? Do you remember?”

  Decemus answered, “I am dreaming. This is a dream.”

  “Does that matter, Decemus?” Miriam responded. “In your blood runs the spirit of many prophets. And you know that dreams are simply a reflection of reality, sometimes distorted but none-the-less real. You know that, so don’t give way to doubt. Remember the words sung over you and move forward. You are about to fulfill those words.” She wondered, How do I know these things? Where is this coming from?

  Decemus looked at Miriam and nodded, his eyes glistening. “I remember, Domina Miriam. How could I forget? I tried to forget when captured by the Romans. Over the years, I did forget. I smothered those words in the disappointment of time. But I found a new life among my conquerors strangely enough, a life I flourished in, until now when those prophecies came back to haunt me.”

  Elijah looked at Miriam. “We are short on time, Miriam. Hurry.”

  Miriam realized that Decemus could not see Elijah and continued speaking, “Decemus, you have been tried in flames and have come forth as gold. Now strengthen your brothers, and when your captor comes to free you, follow through and end this. Remove the dark one from his throne! Avenge the burned ones!”

  Decemus’ eyes hardened, and his hands clenched. Miriam raised a questioning eyebrow, he responded by slowly nodding his head.

  Elijah took her by the hand. “We have to go, Miriam, other places need your intervention.” They passed quickly through the stone walls of Carthage and into the afternoon sky, racing over the land and then over the white-tipped waves of the Mediterranean that surrounded the peninsula.

  As she looked down, she could see shadows beneath the green waters. Staring at them, she realized they were large fish, swimming beneath the waves. Flying was amazing! And then she saw the Roman fleet. “Where are we going?”

  “We have an appointment with the admiral of the Roman fleet.”

  “Goodness. What on earth for?” she asked.

  “He needs to move his ships closer to shore so they can support the Romans in the battle.”

  “Well, why would he listen to me? Isn’t he going to think I am also a dream?”

  “He might, but a few cosmic theatrics may change his mind.”

  This is going to be interesting. Miriam thought.

  ****

  They landed on a large Roman trireme. Menodorus, the fleet commander, had his sharp-eyed lookouts searching the sky and the area where the hydraulic semaphore had last been seen. If the dragon came their way, or if Regulus ordered them to move in closer, he would know. Until such time, the general’s last orders were to hold fast and continue the blockade.

  Menodorus had walked on the wooden decks of a hundred different triremes in his forty years at sea. He could instinctively balance on a constantly moving deck. He never got seasick but discovered a few years back that it also worked the other way. He spent so long at sea that when on land he would lose his sense of balance. He was an anchor of a man, holding all things under his command in check and place. He could see the fires of the massive land battle, and by watching how those flames moved, had a sense of how the battle was going.

  At the moment, he was concerned the flames had moved forward, away from the city and into the area the Romans fortified. One of his lookouts noticed other flames in the rear of the area known to be held by the Romans. Menodorus, disturbed by the news, could not afford to let his men see that concern. So, he left the deck and moved to his quarters. He sat down and took a hard draw on the strong drink stowed beneath his bed. As he sat in the warm enclosure, he started to fade, and before he knew what was happening, fell into a deep sleep.

  It was then that Elijah and Miriam confronted him. They entered Menodorus’ quarters and found him leaned over a set of pillows. As they entered, Elijah spoke his name, “Menodorus.” Miriam’s eyes opened wide as she saw a younger version of the admiral straighten up and actually step out of his sleeping body.

  She addressed him, “Admiral Menodorus, you need to move your fleet as close to land as you can get and bombard the Carthaginian hordes that are threatening Regulus’ legion.”

  Menodorus looked at her, then at Elijah. “Who are you? What are you doing in my quarters?” Immediately, he yelled for his assistant, but no one came because he was in the spirit realm, and his voice could not be heard anywhere but in that realm. He shouted again, and then walked to the door and tried to open it. He jumped back as his hand passed through the door latch. His face blanched white, but he held his own. “What have you done to me? Then he noticed his body on the cushions in his room and he fell to his knees. “I’m dead, aren’t I? Did you kill me or have you just come to take my soul?”

  “Neither, Admiral Menodorus,” Elijah responded. “We’ve come to warn you. Move your ships closer and support Regulus with your ballistae. You can throw the Greek fire bombs among the Carthaginian troops and even at the dragon. You can alter the course of this battle, but you must act quickly!”

  “I am dreaming. I knew that wine was spoiled. I am a frightened old man given way to his fears, and they conjured this dream. My orders are to
stay here and blockade the Carthaginian ships from escaping the doom of their city. When they see the battle turn against them, they will bail like rats.”

  Miriam had had enough. “Listen to me, you sodden old fool. Get off your butt! And move this fleet. Run it up on land if you need to, but get these ships moving and get those ballistae firing. Regulus needs you now!”

  Menodorus looked at Miriam and scowled, shaking his head in anger. “Woman! You remind me of why I spend so much time at sea! I don’t take orders from anyone but my commander. And he has not signaled me. And knowing what I do about dreams, I realize you represent the conflict in my mind, but right or wrong, I am under orders, and under orders I will stay until otherwise commanded!”

  Miriam stood, feet apart, hands on her hips, and glared at the admiral. Elijah, who was participating in this confrontation, spoke quietly, “Admiral Menodorus, who do you think we are? We have come from Regulus to warn you. Our orders come directly from the commander himself. Move these ships as close to the battle as you can get them and fire on the enemy. And do it as quickly as you can!”

  “How do I know you’re telling me the truth? Usually when orders are given, they come sealed and by courier, or through the semaphore. Not through dreams.”

  Miriam piped in, “Unusual circumstances require unusual activity. The commander used the only means available to him.”

  “So, you are his muse, I take it?” Menodorus looked at Miriam, waiting for her response.

  Miriam stared back at him and then said, “You better hope I am not! Because if I am, and Regulus finds out you disobeyed his orders because you were not imaginative enough to perceive the truth when it was standing right in front of you, he will flay you! And if he loses this battle, and all the legion is destroyed, what do you think will happen then, Admiral Menodorus? What do you have to lose, sir? Move this fleet!”

  Menodorus looked her and then back to Elijah. Was quiet a moment and then answered, “All right then. I will move the fleet.” And with that, his spirit moved back into his body.

  Elijah sighed like he had been holding his breath. “Good.” And with that, he and Miriam took flight again.

  The admiral’s body twitched, he grunted a moment and then awoke. He looked around at the empty room and stared at the wall. A moment later he agonized. “It was just a dream, just a dream. All I can do is wait. It’s all I can do. I must obey my orders. No matter what. I cannot move the fleet!

  ****

  As Elijah and Miriam moved through the smoke-filled sky over the battlefield, Miriam fumed, “That was like pulling teeth... but he finally agreed. Let’s hope it’s enough when he finally gets the fleet close enough to support the legion.”

  “Menodorus is a very principled man. Not very imaginative. But honest. And loyal. In this case, it worked against us,” Elijah replied.

  “But he came around, right? He is going to move the fleet?”

  “I don’t know. I can only hope.”

  “What do you mean hope? What is going on here? I thought you were the prophet of Israel, the one who called down fire? What do you mean hope?” Miriam shook her head, frustrated. “What happened to all those troops, angels, or whatever Regulus told me you gave him to command. Where are they?” She grumbled.

  “They are battling, even as we speak. You’ve only seen part way into the spirit, Miriam. We’ve just scratched the surface. The real battle is being fought right alongside the one men are fighting.” He pointed to the battle stretched below them. “You see only the shell, the façade if you will, a poor reflection of a deeper realm.”

  Elijah sighed, looked at her sadly, and said, “I hate to show you, I truly, truly do, and if there were any other way around it, I swear to you I would take it because those who see it are irrevocably changed. Being in your world thereafter is like walking in a dimly lit room, or living out a month of cloudy, dismal days. Only there is no end to the gloom, until the person who has seen into the heavenly is once again in that realm forever. But in this case, I am afraid I have no choice. You have to see. In order that you may support and assist those very soldiers. I am sorry, Miriam.”

  Miriam looked confused, then her mouth fell open, and her eyes widened as the clouds above her turned golden, then red and fiery, parting like curtains on a dark stage. It was night, but it was not. The horizon was dark and swirling, lit with flash lightning that bore a reddish tint rather than the common bluish white. The ground beneath her was littered with fires, and angry cries arose from the flames. As she watched, golden-clad soldiers pushed forward in a mighty, orchestrated thrust, clashing with a powerful impact on the shields of fierce, dark warriors who, except for their black armor, could have been the twins of their rivals. It was sword on sword, spear thrust and parry, screams, and curses from the dark ones, and angry shouts and roars from the golden ones.

  “What is going on?” Miriam shouted to be heard over the deafening cries.

  “They are battling, and at the moment, it is a stalemate. If anything, the golden soldiers are losing ground.” As Elijah spoke, the noise quieted.

  When Miriam could hear herself think again, she said, “I didn’t think that was possible. I thought right always prevailed, especially in this realm.” Miriam stammered, struggling to hold back the dread that was threatening to overwhelm her.

  “You know better, child. Your realm is just a reflection of this one. Does right always prevail in your world, Miriam?”

  “But this is different. In this world, the Lord God reigns, and He is the Lord of Hosts, the Great Conqueror. How can He lose?”

  “He loses when we do Miriam. He deliberately ties His hands and accommodates the authority He delegated to his children. He doesn’t take back the fire when we burn our house with it. People suffer, righteousness is defeated, and wrong prevails for a time.”

  “Is there anything I can do? Is there something Regulus can do? Surely, I am not summoned here just to watch and hope while all these people, both the innocent and the enslaved of Carthage, die? Many of these people are victims—innocents that have seen their children forcibly burned before their eyes. And what about the young men of Rome whose blood and limbs are spilled on the ground beneath us? Surely there is something?”

  Elijah cut her off. “Miriam, all through time people—both men and women—have been brought to these moments. Not all are as terribly enlightening as yours. Most people don’t get to see the cosmic battle going on around them. They are too caught up in the immediate one that threatens to consume them. In every single one of those conflicts, some key individuals play the significant part upon which everything pivots—the transitional act that transcends both heaven and earth. In this realm, Regulus and Decemus, and even that crude knuckle-walker Porcius, have their part to play, like pieces in a puzzle interlocked and dependent. In this play, Miriam, you have the responsibility of interacting in the spiritual realm. That realm uses different weapons, different tools, and different rules. But in every situation, there is always the person that must trust. That must reach into the heavenlies and pull down that which has to be. The Creator has decreed that those made in His image must utilize His energies and the methods He uses to apply them.”

  “That sounds great, but I have no idea what you are talking about, Elijah! I am clueless. What do I have to do?”

  “Remember the stories of your people, Miriam. Those tales are true, and many of them describe events that are very similar to the one you find yourself in now.”

  “Just tell me! Quit wasting time and just tell me what to do!”

  Elijah shook his head, and then whispered, “I can’t.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Oenus barely survived the destruction of his weapon. He loaded and fired at the dragon even as the wooden frame of the ballista burned. It was a scene from hell, and if he lived through the battle, he knew he would feel the heat in his nightmares the rest of his life. Finally, the wooden frames broke beneath the fire’s work and the tension of the crossbow. He
and his surviving crew were forced to retreat. The battle surged over and around them, leaving them in a blackened and scorched field, covered with small fires and writhing, screaming victims. Xenophanes’ asbestos suits had shielded them but also left them unarmored for traditional warfare of sword and spears. Oenus gathered as many of the straggling survivors of his ballistae crews as he could find, picked up the swords and spears that were strewn across the battlefield, and began to move back into the battle. At first, they simply preyed on the back of the Carthaginian lines, and then as they climbed up a small rise, the panorama of the battlefield enveloped them.

  Thousands of men and women lay mangled and broken in front of them. The Roman-Greek firebombs had ripped the Carthaginians apart. The flames from the explosions crept across the fields, burning corpse and wounded alike. Closest to them, stragglers sat in huddled groups, nursing the victims. Roman soldiers also lay where they died by the hundreds. Firebombs killed thousands, and spears hundreds, but it had not been enough. The Carthaginian strategy of massed troops and civilians, combined with the firepower of the ever-present dragon, overran the outer ranks of the legions.

  From where Oenus and his troops stood, they could see that even though phalanxes still held the swarming Carthaginians back, the Roman army had been greatly reduced and was being forced back into its enclave, the powerful fortress that the besieged Romans always built for such an emergency. Since the first legions formed, they never ended a day without building fortifications for their encampments. Given months as this legion had been given, that encampment was formidable. Ballistae still fired, and the dragon took hits, but due to its armor, an element the Romans failed to predict, the strikes it took were not taking it down.