Nasir smiled, “I’m glad you like it. It’s from a region of the Empire called Cappadocia. The wines from that region are unusually sweet and flavorful.”
The two of them ate and enjoyed their meal. Maarika spoke of her time growing up in Arabia with her tribe, and Nasir talked about growing up in Arabia Province and the circumstances that led him to join the army. They were of the same people, but two very different worlds. As the evening progressed, Maarika rested her head on Nasir’s shoulder, and he put his arm around her. Finally, Maarika stood grasped Nasir’s hand, and led him toward his room.
When they arrived at the chamber, Nasir closed and barred the door, so that they would not be disturbed. He then retrieved another bottle of wine. They toasted their new found friendship, fell into the bed in each other’s arms, and made their connection much deeper. Nasir awoke in the middle of the night to screams and dull thumping on the door. He thought about telling them to go away but the alcohol he’d drank prevented his tongue from properly working. Giving up, he let oblivion reclaim him.
Nasir awoke to the sound of Maarika splashing in the water of the spring pool. She had left the door open between the two chambers. He got up and walked into the spring room. Maarika was floating in the pool with a smile on her face.
“Good morning,” said Nasir.
Maarika looked up at him and smiled, “Good morning. Do you think I’ll ever get used to this much water?”
“Wait until you see the sea.” said Nasir.
“What’s a sea? I’ve never heard the word before,” asked Maarika.
“The sea is a giant body of water. It’s as large as the open desert in Arabia,” replied Nasir.
“Truly?”
“Truly.”
Maarika rose from the pool. Nasir’s gaze took in her body. She glanced down, smiled at him and said, “Looks like you’re hungry for more than food.” As she finished speaking, she winked at him and started giggling.
Nasir stepped into the pool with her, held her close and said, “Indeed.”
As they kissed, they heard a dull thump on the door, “What’s that?” Maarika asked.
“Probably one of my men wondering if you’ve murdered me in my sleep. I usually rise a lot earlier than this.”
Maarika looked up into his eyes and coyly said, “Well, you’re not used to getting so much exercise after the sun sets I think.”
Nasir smiled, put his hand on the side of Maarika’s face, and kissed her. The door thumped again a little louder this time.
Nasir yelled, “Go away, I’m fine!”
Whoever was on the other side of the door, ignored Nasir’s shout and began banging on it continuously. The mood broken, Nasir yelled, “What the hell is your problem? Go away!”
The command didn’t seem to help, and the thumping continued. Sighing in disgust, Nasir went into his sleeping chamber and put his uniform on, “This had better be really damn important. I told you to go away.”
Nasir pulled up the bar on the door, and it was immediately was flung open. Startled, he fell backward onto the stone floor. In an instant, a horrible apparition leaped onto him. The thing’s teeth kept repeatedly biting as it pushed toward Nasir’s throat. Soldier’s instinct instantly took over, and Nasir applied all of his strength to stop the thing from sinking its teeth into him. He tried to fling the whatever it was off, but it had a vise-like grip on his shoulders.
Maarika, still nude, ran into the room and screamed at the site of the creature on top of Nasir. It appeared to be one of Nasir’s men, but something was horribly wrong with the man. It looked like one of those things that had destroyed her tribe.
She looked around the room desperate for a weapon to use against the thing and help Nasir. Her eyes fell on the wine bottle from last night, laying discarded on the floor. She grabbed it and smashed it down onto the thing’s head. The wine bottle broke in half and pieces of glass rained down on Nasir’s face. The beastly apparition seemed to pay the glass no mind and continued trying to bite Nasir.
Maarika, noticing that the broken bottle still in her hand had a jagged edge, plunged it into the top of the thing’s head. Without a sound, it went limp and stopped trying to bite Nasir.
“Thanks. What the hell happened to Shidfar? Is this one of the demons you spoke about?”
Maarika answered the question sobbing, “Yes.”
Nasir muttered, “Bloody hell! I wonder if this has happened to all my men?” He shut the door and barred it again, “Help me with my armor.”
Maarika nodded dully and helped Nasir buckle on his armor. Like everything else at the outpost, the armor was ancient. It was a suit of Legionnaire Banded Mail that dated back at least a couple of centuries. Though old, it had been well maintained. The leather and many of the buckles had been replaced over the years, and there was not a spot of rust on the entire suit.
Nasir inspected himself. Satisfied, he buckled his Spatha to his waist and grabbed the shield. He handed his dagger to Maarika, “Stay in here.”
Nasir unbarred the door and stepped into the barracks room. What he saw horrified him. Blood was splashed all over the walls. In the middle of the floor was a pile of bones that used to be a person. Bits and pieces of flesh were still attached to the bones, but they had been mostly picked clean. Flies buzzed around the room, and it reeked of death. The door outside had been closed and barred as well, How did that creature get into this room?
Steeling himself for another attack, Nasir lifted the bar and leaped back with his Spatha drawn. After about sixty seconds, convinced that there was no immediate danger, he approached the door again. He put his ear up to it and listened. He heard nothing but the faint whisper of the wind. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He then stood to the side of the door and opened it.
The door opened with a creaking noise. Nasir raised his Spatha above his head waiting to strike anything that came through the doorway. Nothing did. Finally, he cautiously peered around the edge of the door frame. The horrors he saw outside made him vomit. The noise from his sudden bout of nausea attracted the attention of another one of those things. Hearing the sound of Nasir vomiting, it charged toward the doorway. It was Oshnar, transformed into the same hideous thing that Shidfar had become.
As the creature charged into the doorway, Nasir brought his Spatha down onto the thing’s neck using an overhead stroke. The sharp edge of the Spatha cleaved into the Oshnar at the base of the neck and didn’t stop until it exited at the opposite thigh. The two halves of whatever it was fell to the ground with a dull splat.
The part of Oshnar that had the head attached to it reached for Nasir’s leg with its one arm. Grabbing his shin, it tried to pull itself closer. Disgusted Nasir plunged his Spatha into the top of Oshnar’s head. The former cook stopped moving.
“What the holy hell happened to you Oshnar? How did he survive being cleaved in two?” Nasir asked, bewildered.
Maarika, hearing Nasir’s voice, opened the door, saw the mess, and screamed. Nasir ran to her and shushed her, “Please, there may be more of those things out there. They seem to be attracted to sound.”
“I’m sorry, it’s just. . .” Maarika couldn’t complete her sentence.
Nasir took her into his arms and whispered, “Its ok, you’re safe.”
He led her back into his sleeping chamber and said, “Stay here. I still need to see what happened outside.” She nodded dully in response.
Nasir once again walked out into the barracks chamber. This time he walked directly across the room, stepped over Shidfar’s corpse and went outside. As he stepped outside, he held his shield up in a defensive position and drew his Spatha. The outpost had become a house of horrors. The bones of the rest of his men were scattered about. Blood was everywhere.
Nasir muttered, “What in God’s name?” He walked around the compound. The gate was still in place barring access to the Roman side of the wall. He stepped up onto the rampart and peered out into the pass. Nothing but stone cliffs, the rutted dirt road,
and the gentle warm wind blowing up it from the heart of Arabia was on the other side of the wall.
Finding nothing still alive Nasir went back to where Maarika was hiding, “Everyone’s dead.”
Maarika gave Nasir a hug, “What do we do?”
Nasir replied, “I must warn my Kentarches about these things.”
There was nothing left in the larder except the flour they used for their daily bread ration. All of the food that had been prepared the night before was gone. Maarika got a fire going in the outpost’s oven and baked some bread for their journey. While she did this Nasir gathered up what water skins he could find amongst the possessions of his dead men and filled them using the spring. Provisioned for their journey, they set out to warn the Empire about this new evil.
Chapter 4
Evening of August 1st 636 Damascus, Syria Province Byzantium
The Thirsty Palm
The Thirsty Palm sat just outside of the forum in Damascus. The tavern had a sign attached to a metal rod. The sign, made from some ancient looking timber, depicted a wilted palm tree. Both rod and sign were situated above the entrance.
Over the years the wood of the sign had cracked in several places, and the colors had faded. A gentle breeze caused the sign to creak lazily back and forth. The tavern was more upscale than soldiers of the Empire typically found themselves frequenting, but Athos, Baltazar, and Constan were after answers as well as a good time.
On a typical evening, they could be found outside of the 5th Parthica’s fort at the Lonely Legionnaire tavern. This was not a typical night. The officers had been on edge for the last week, and they wanted some answers as to why.
The Thirsty Palm was frequented by many people that worked in the forum. The forum was the center of government for both the city of Damascus and the Roman Province of Syria. If something were out of the ordinary, then the patrons of the Thirsty Palm would be talking about it.
Athos took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Nothing to be nervous about, lad. These folks shit and screw same as you do,” Constan said with a knowing twinkle in his eye. Athos then blushed a very deep shade of red in reaction to Constan’s vulgar statement.
Baltazar smiled at Constan, “There is a barmaid here that goes by the name Athea. Athos is very fond of her.”
“Lad, have you not had the tender touch of a young lass yet?” Athos blushed again and opened the door to the tavern before Constan could pry further. Baltazar chuckled happily. Glad that Constan’s inquisitiveness wasn’t directed at him.
When Athos opened the door, all eyes turned to him. Most of the patrons wore clothing of a well-appointed nature. Unlike the dull homespun typical of the poorer people of the Empire such as white, brown, and gray, there was a vibrant display of colors being worn by the patrons of the Thirsty Palm. Two individuals sitting at one of the rear tables wore silks of bright colors. The robes they wore had designs of a type that Athos had never seen before. Yellows, reds, and blues dominated the silk of their robes.
The wooden boards of the floor creaked as they made their way across the room. The trio chose a table near the obviously foreign looking group. Constan whispered to Athos and Baltazar, “Those men in the brightly colored robes are Persians. I have seen their kind often enough on the end of my spear to recognize them. I will know for sure if they start speaking to each other.”
Athos and Baltazar nodded in understanding. Athos nervously played with a splinter he slowly worked loose from the table. As Athos played with the splinter, Baltazar scanned the tavern’s main room.
The Thirsty Palm’s common room consisted of about a dozen tables with chairs. The two largest tables had benches instead of chairs. There was a large fireplace opposite the front door, but thanks to the August heat, there was no fire burning this night. To the right of the entrance was the bar, and in the back-right corner of the room was an opening that must have led to the kitchen.
A serving wench ambled up and asked the group what they would like. She was wearing a low-cut white blouse. She also wore a pair of form fitting pants the color of blueberries. “Hi there Athea, you’re as gorgeous as ever,” Athos said.
Athea’s cheeks took on a crimson hue as she smiled in response, “What will it be gentlemen?”
“Can you give us three glasses of your worst wine?” Athos asked.
Athea rolled her eyes, “You boys know that you can get this same swill for a lot cheaper right outside the fort?”
Constan piped up, “Right you are lass but then we would not get to enjoy the privilege of your company.” To emphasize his point, he smacked Athea on her rump. Athea made a harrumphing noise to show her displeasure over the smack but swayed her hips in a very provocative way as she departed. Got to play the game to score a big tip. I hope Athos doesn’t mind. Before she disappeared into the kitchen, she looked back and winked at Athos.
The trio sat back and listened to the conversations flowing around them. The room was mainly filled with the usual talk of politics and taxes that you would find on an ordinary evening at The Thirsty Palm. Athos focused his attention on the Persians. They were sitting at a table, at the back corner of the room, mostly shrouded in shadows, and trying not to be noticed. He turned an ear to try and listen. He did not understand what was being said, but he recognized the language as Farsi. With luck, they are members of the Ambassador’s entourage.
At that moment Athea ambled back up to the table with three worn goblets and a bottle containing the house’s worst wine. “Athea do you have a bottle of that sweet tasting wine from Cappadocia that you served a couple of months back?” Athos asked.
Athea replied, “Yes, we have three bottles of it left.”
Athos looked up into her eyes nervously, “Great, can you please bring us one of the bottles along with two extra goblets?”
Athea replied shaking her head in disapproval. “Sure. You know, most people start with the good stuff and move onto the swill. You guys start with the swill and move onto the good stuff. Have you been bewitched?”
Constan replied, “Aye, after seeing your sweetness how could we keep the sour taste of the swill in our mouths?” Athea blushed a deep shade of red at the compliment. Constan once again tried to slap Athea on the rump, but this time she was prepared for the attempt and dexterously avoided his hand.
Athea brushed Athos’ back as she walked back toward the kitchen. The old bastard is funny but why does he think I like to feel his hand on my rump? I hope Athos doesn’t think less of me because of his vulgar behavior toward me. Though maybe I should be a little cross with Athos for keeping such vulgar company.
The trio took a drink of their wine and enjoyed the pleasant warm feeling the liquid invoked, as it slid down their throats. Constan turned to Athos, “You know, lad, Athea seems to like you,”
Athos took another sip of his wine and smiled, “I know Constan. I don’t understand why. She could do a lot better than me.”
Constan reached over and smacked Athos on the head, “Are you daft, lad? A good woman, a truly good woman, wants you because of who you are and not what you can provide them. A man that has the love of a woman such as that is a lucky man indeed. The world seems to be filled with women that want to love a man for what he has. In turn, most men are more than willing to accept the love of such women. When a good woman comes along, lad, you need to seize the moment. Don’t let her slip from your grasp.”
Athos looked Constan in the eye. “Most of the time you are a grumpy old bastard that thinks us younger folk all have it too easy. Especially since we didn’t have to bleed our way across Anatolia at the end of a Persian spear when we were younger. Every once in a while, though, you surprise us, Constan.”
Constan smiled at Athos, “Ye know laddie, ye are smarter than I gave you credit for.”
Baltazar joined in, “You two are making me sick, get a room already!” Constan and Athos turned to Baltazar with mock looks of indignation on their face.
Athos winked at Baltazar, “Baltazar you
know you are the only one for me.”
Constan downed the rest of his wine in one gulp and then belched long and hard before speaking, “I would never want to get in the way of true love, lads!”
Athea chose that moment to return with the bottle and the goblets, “Love? Who is in love?”
Athos blushed a deep shade of crimson and stammered, “No one.”
Constan immediately put Athos on the spot, “Nonsense, lass, Athos here has taken a fancy to ye. Why during drilling today, he landed us an extra ten-mile march in the desert because he couldn’t stop talking about ye.”
It was Athea’s turn to blush, “Athos, why didn’t you try talking to me?”
Athos hesitated a moment, “Athea, I was afraid that you would not have the same interest in me that I have in you. The night we met when I happened upon this place with a mouth full of dust and a powerful thirst, you served me.”
Athea said quietly, “I remember.”
“We talked deep into the night. I had such a wonderful time seeing you smile and your laugh warmed my heart in a way that I haven’t felt before.”
Athea positively glowed at Athos but remained mute as her thoughts raced. Is he in love with me?
Athos stood up. The sound of his chair grated on the uneven wooden floor. He gently placed his hand on Athea’s shoulder and led her away from the table. “Athea, I’m so sorry I couldn’t imagine that you would have the same feelings about me. I have to wake up at the crack of dawn tomorrow, but this can’t wait. We need to talk. What time do you get off tonight?”
Athea nodded, “I agree, this can’t wait. I get off when the last customer passes out.” She looked around the room, “That should be in about four more hours.”
“Ok, I’ll walk you home then, and we can talk.” Athea gave Athos a little hug and moved off to serve her other customers.
Athos picked up the bottle and glanced in the direction of the Persians. Baltazar caught the message and grabbed the extra goblets. Together, they both headed over to the Persian’s table. Both of the Persians were dressed in fine silk robes. They each had a leather belt at their waist that held the robes shut. Like the soldiers and Ambassador that they saw earlier today in the desert, both of these men also sported a perfectly groomed jet-black beard. The two of them stopped their conversation, smiled, and looked up at Athos expectantly.
Byzantium Infected Box Set Page 5
