“Good evening gentlemen,” Athos said, “I’ve brought some wine. Care if we join you for a bit?”
The Persian gestured toward the empty seats, grinned, and said in perfect Greek, “Certainly, I’m never one to turn down free wine from friendly soldiers. Even if those soldiers would prefer my head to be on the end of their spears instead of attached to my neck.”
Athos was taken aback by the brutally honest response, “How did you know we were soldiers?”
“First off, let’s introduce ourselves and then I will answer your questions as long as your wine lasts,” My name is Alborz, and my companion here is called Malek.”
“Well met, my name is Athos, and this is my friend Baltazar. We are both members of the 5th Parthica based here in Damascus.”
“Ahhhh look, Malek.” Alborz elbowed his companion in the chest to emphasize his point, “Ironmen, are buying us drinks tonight!”
Athos started pouring wine into the goblets Baltazar had set on the table. “Now that we are introduced, can you tell me how you knew we were both soldiers?”
“Certainly, there are two characteristics that make it apparent you are soldiers,” Alborz paused and took a sip of wine. “First you have a tan line matching the outline of the helm you wear. Second, you carry yourselves like men who are accustomed to marching in formation. You stand perfectly straight with squared shoulders whenever you move about.” Aborz’s face broke into a grin as he finished. Clearly proud of himself.
Baltazar smiled, “You have us pegged, my friend.”
Athos then asked, “What brings you to Damascus, gentlemen?”
Malek finally joined the conversation, “We are members of Ambassador Nafar’s staff. We have journeyed from Ctesiphon to meet with Governor Maurice.” Malek took a sip from his wine and started to continue when Alborz interrupted him.
“Malek is being most generous toward Ambassador Nafar! In truth, we are here to make sure the Ambassador stays on mission and doesn’t end up missing meetings because he is passed out in a brothel!”
Malek glared at Alborz, “Alborz speaks the truth. The Ambassador can be challenging at times, and our mission is too important to risk on his quirks, but he is of the royal bloodline, so what can you do?” Malek’s features contorted into a disgusted look as he finished.
Baltazar looked at Malek sympathetically, “We have the same problem here as well. We get saddled with the most unbelievably stupid officers because they have a thimble full of noble blood running through their veins. We soldiers get to bleed the ground red as a result of their inexperience, general stupidity, or both,” Baltazar said with a grimace on his face, as he remembered stories of past follies that many of the veterans told about bad officers.
Athos started speaking again, “We saw Nafar out in the desert this afternoon. It is hard to believe that the man we observed devoutly praying to your God could also behave so wildly.”
Alborz chuckled, “Indeed, he swings back and forth like a pendulum. He is not a person that likes to remain in the middle but acts in the extreme. One moment he is devout, the next moment he is whoring and drinking. All I can tell you is the mean keeps us busy trying to keep him out of trouble.”
Athos laughed, “Sounds like you have your hands full.”
Malek chimed in, “You have no idea, my friend.”
Alborz reached for the wine bottle and poured himself another round, “Anyone else?” He then became downcast and added, “We might as well enjoy this while we can, a plague is coming.”
Athos shuddered at the thought, “A plague? Is that why you are here to talk with Governor Maurice about, a pestilence?”
Malek nodded, took a sip of wine from his goblet and set it down, “About six months ago, we began to receive strange reports in Ctesiphon. Hardly believable stories about unusual events happening along our southern border with Arabia. In March a steady wind began blowing toward us out of the deep desert of Arabia,” Malek’s gaze dropped and his face took on a downtrodden cast. “The hottest spring that any of us could remember began.”
Malek paused, took a sip of wine, and continued his tale, “The reports started with the occasional frantic farmer or shepherd finding a goat or a sheep being consumed alive by ashen looking individuals. These people acted little better than animals. When alerted they would attack anyone they found and eat them. All too quickly we began to receive even stranger reports.”
Malek looked up at the ceiling, sighed deeply, and continued, “At first the stories made little sense to us. It sounded like the border villages were under attack by crazed Arab Cannibals. We received dispatches from the leaders of many of our border communities screaming for help. It seemed an army of demons had invaded our realm intent on eating our people.” Malek’s face looked progressively more downcast as he told the tale.
Alborz with a look of fear on his face joined into the conversation, “Those Arabs must have released some kind of dark evil into this world through some sinister spell. Ahura Mazda only knows what kind of foul rites those people perform in the deep desert. Whatever they did, they awoke an unspeakable evil.”
Alborz finished off his goblet, and Malek began to talk, “Although we have been the bitterest of enemies in the past, a bitterness born of generations of war between Persia and Rome, we also respect the people of Rome. We came here to warn you of this evil, and unite with you to put a stop to it.” Malek let out a sigh as if the words he said came with great difficulty. “We must work together to put an end to this evil, or Persia, Rome, and beyond will be lost to this darkness.”
Malek finished speaking and reached for the bottle. Alborz looked at Athos and Baltazar, “We can only hope that our leaders can come together as we have at this table tonight in friendship and mutual understanding. For both of our peoples to survive this darkness the Arabs have released upon the world, we must form an alliance.” Alborz grabbed the bottle and finished it off without bothering to pour the remainder into his goblet.
Athea, demonstrating that sixth sense that good servers have, appeared just as the last drop of wine flowed into Alborz’s throat. “What will it be gentlemen?” Athos looked at Malek and Alborz, “More wine?”
Alborz smiled, “No, my friend, I fear we must get back. We are leaving for Ctesiphon at dawn on the morrow.”
Athos and Baltazar stood up. Athos grasped first Alborz’s, and then Malek’s hand in friendship, “Then we will take our leave of you. Good luck on your journey home, and Godspeed.”
“Thank you,” said Alborz.
“May the light of Ahura Mazda always shine on your path in this life and the next,” said Malek.
Athos and Baltazar returned to their table. The wooden floorboards of the Thirsty Palm groaned under the shift in weight as they walked across the venerable planks. Constan looked up at the pair and smiled. The smile gave him a goofy looking appearance, especially with the scar and eye patch.
There was a nearly empty bottle of wine at the table that wasn’t there when the pair had left to talk to Alborz and Malek. Athos strongly suspected this was the reason for the goofy smile. In addition, Constan’s cheeks had taken on rosy red tint. Through past experience Athos had realized that Constan usually took on this appearance when he had too much to drink. I hope he doesn’t embarrass me in front of Athea.
Athea followed the pair back to their table. Once seated, Athos looked at Athea and said. “Better bring us out another bottle of the swill.” Athea nodded in acknowledgment and headed back to the kitchen.
Constan looked at the pair, his smile disappearing, “Ye boys look like ye have seen a ghost. What news did those Farsi speaking sacks of Persian shite have to put such a look of fear on your faces?”
Athos looked over at Baltazar, an unspoken acknowledgment passing between them, and he began to speak. “I don’t know exactly where to start, Constan.”
Constan nodded gravely and placed his hand on Athos’ shoulder. Unable to hold the dark look he broke into a gleeful cackle, “Usually the best
place to start any tale is the beginning lad.” Constan’s flippant remark was met with silence. He sighed, and his features took on a more somber look, “It must have been grave news indeed to put such fear into your heart. As I suspected, I knew the peace couldn’t hold between us and those bastards.”
Constan face shifted from the sullen somber look to one of rage. His cheeks reddened as the anger built and his lips began to quiver. Constan grasped the edge of the table, and his knuckles turned white with the effort.
Sighing Athos began, his brow crinkled with worry, “No, that’s not it at all Constan. According to the Persians, an unspeakable evil has emerged from Arabia, and they are here to seek an alliance with us before it overwhelms first them and then us.”
The look of rage was instantly melted off Constan’s grizzled features much like a wave of the ocean washes the sands of a beach clean. Athos continued. “They described it in weird terms. First, they said it was an isolated incursion by the occasional cannibal bent on eating sheep, goats, or them. They then said it was a darkness brought about by unspeakable evil.”
Constan poured the last of the bottle he had ordered during their absence into his goblet. He sipped at his wine, mulling over the information Athos had just presented to him. He then turned to Baltazar and asked, “What is your take on what the Persians said? Did ye hear things differently from the account that Athos gave?”
Baltazar shook his head in response and said, “It is much as Athos said. They looked scared beyond belief. I don’t think they have seen or witnessed this evil, but deliver unto us hear say.”
Constan mulled the additional information presented by Baltazar in his head. He tipped his goblet up at a sharp angle and let the entire contents flow into his throat before slamming the goblet down onto the table, “The Persians must be fearful indeed if they came to Rome with incomplete information. Coming to us was probably the hardest decision their ruler, Yazdgerd has ever made,” His tone was sagely, showing the wisdom of his years spent fighting and learning from the Persians.
Athea returned to the table with a fresh bottle of wine. “Here you go gentlemen.” Athea then looked around the room. She confirmed that none of the patrons needed anything at that moment and sat down at the table’s empty seat. She turned to Athos with an expectant look on her face, “What were you able to find out Athos?”
Athos paused for a moment, not at all liking being put on the spot like this by Athea. Although he wanted to get to know this woman better, should he reveal this information? The warm glow of the alcohol in his system drowned out any further reservations.
Athos sighed, reached across the table, and placed his hand on hers. “Not good, they have come here to ask Governor Maurice for help in defeating an unspeakable evil emerging from Arabia. From the accounts they gave us, it seems an army of cannibals is on the loose in Southern Persia.”
Athea gasped in horror, “Cannibals?”
Athos gripped her hand and responded, “Yes, grayish skin, big teeth with a love for goat, sheep, and human flesh. At first, they had isolated encounters, but recently a horde has been sighted.” Athea didn’t move her hand away from Athos.
Constan joined the conversation, “If Governor Maurice believes these accounts, I think we will send an expeditionary force toward our border with Arabia. This would account for the high level of drill we have been performing for the last week. Maurice will likely raise all the Syrian Tourmas, and whatever other troops he can gather to form a Thema for the task.”
Athea visibly paled at the news, “So you will be leaving Damascus soon?”
Constan replied, “I believe so.”
The group finished up the third bottle. Athos and Baltazar split the tab. The group said their goodbyes on the front stoop of the tavern. Constan and Baltazar then took their leave and headed back to the barracks. Athos decided to clear his head and take a walk and then wait for Athea outside of the tavern. The moon was overhead and shrouded everything in a silvery glow. Most of Damascus was already asleep, and few lanterns or candles were burning. The dark streets gave Athos a strange sort of comfort as he walked.
Athos recounted the night’s events trying to get a handle on what he had learned. Not only did he have to worry about this strange new threat that they would soon be marching to investigate, but also Athea. Thinking about Athea pushed everything else to the back of his mind.
He ran through all of his encounters with Athea at the Thirsty Palm. He realized that the tavern was the only place he had ever seen her. He loved the sound of her voice, the way she smiled when she was happy, and the glow in her eyes when she looked at him. He felt like he was the only man in the tavern when those eyes settled on him with that look. When he held her hands tonight, there was this deep feeling of connection he had with her.
He tried to box up the strong physical attractions he had to her and just search his feelings about the person that is Athea. As he did so, he was startled by a low growl. Drawing his dagger, he turned to focus on the location of the threatening noise. Emerging from the shadows was a mangy dog challenging him.
The dog stood at the head of a side alley. Its fur was matted with dirt and garbage. The poor animals rib bones were apparent even in the poor light. Poor thing. If I don’t teach it a lesson about displaying aggression toward humans though it might attack a child. Athos sheathed his dagger and scooped up a rock. He tossed it at the dog hitting it square on the nose. The dog yelped and ran back into the alley.
At that point, he emerged from the town, and the city walls were in front of him. He looked up and saw a guard, “Hail, friend. Mind if I come up and look at the desert? I’m Athos, a Skutatoi with the 2nd Kentarchia of the 5th Parthica.”
The guard turned around, looked down at him, and replied, “Sure, come on up I could use the company.” Athos ascended the set of stone stairs closest to him that lead to the top of the wall. The walls were made up of a tannish colored stone.
As he topped the last stair, the guard was there to meet him, “Well met, the name is Hadad.” Athos shook Hadad’s hand in greeting and started out over the desert. The moon looked breathtaking shining down onto the hard earth and rocks dotting the landscape. Off in the distance, he could see the fires of a nearby caravan. The only sounds they could hear was the faint rustle of the wind and the water flowing in the nearby Barada River.
Hadad wore a simple leather chest piece, and metal helm that must have dated back at least two centuries. The helmet was dented and pitted from its long service. The straps holding it in place were well oiled, and the metal was as shiny as one could expect a helm of that age to be. In his right-hand Hadad held a spear.
Leaning up against the battlement nearby was his shield. A simple oval shield about two-thirds the size of Hadad. It was white. Hadad wore a simple white robe underneath the leather chest piece. He had a belt of rope, and a dagger was sheathed in a scabbard at his waist.
Athos looked left and then right down the wall. There seemed to be a lot more guards than normal manning the wall. Athos turned to Hadad and said, “The moon kissing the desert is a beautiful sight.”
Hadad smiled and nodded, “Indeed, friend, the view never gets old.”
“I have a question if you do not mind,” Athos asked.
“Sure, friend, as long as it is not a state secret. If it were a state secret, then I would be forced to kill you and feed you to that very disagreeable dog down there,” The glow of Hadad’s white teeth contrasted sharply with his swarthy skin as he smiled.
“Fair enough, friend. We have been drilling like crazy for the last week ever since the Persian Ambassador arrived to talk to Governor Maurice. I am meeting a lady friend later and just wanted some air and time to clear my head. During my travels this evening I have noticed that the guard on the wall has been doubled. Any idea why Hadad? Do you know if it is related to our increased training? I have a suspicion that we will be marching south soon based on what I have learned.”
Hadad looked Athos in the e
ye and spoke, “Perceptive my new friend you must have spent many nights wandering the edges of our fair city to figure that out. The guard was indeed doubled, and we were told to be extra vigilant. That is all I know.”
Athos replied, “Thanks, friend, I wish thee a peaceful end to your shift. I need to head out. I am meeting someone at the Thirsty Palm.”
Hadad asked inquisitively, “The Thirsty Palm? Apparently being a City Guard doesn’t pay nearly as well a Skutatoi!”
Athos looked back at Hadad, “If you wish to serve in the ranks, then I can get you an introduction to a recruiter. If I were you, though, I’d wait until we return from whatever threat is seeping out of Arabia.”
“I appreciate the offer, friend, let me think about it. I have a wife heavy with child so that I could use the extra silver.” Athos waved his farewell and walked down the stairs, and into the city heading for the Thirsty Palm.
Athos made his way back to the Thirsty Palm without incident. He decided to wait for Athea outside and found a good spot on a stoop across the street from the tavern. As Athos sat waiting, he felt something rubbing up against his left leg. Looking down, he saw a cat rubbing itself up against his leg. The cat had white and dark gray fur. The gray hair dominated the upper half of the cat’s body, and the white fur was predominantly on the bottom of the cat. The cat had dazzling yellow eyes.
He smiled and scratched the cat between its ears. The cat purred in appreciation and looked up at Athos expectantly. Athos smiled at the cat, “Sorry, I don’t have any food tonight.”
A moment later, Athea walked up, smiled at the pair, and held out a morsel for the cat, “Here you go, Buttons.” Buttons took the piece of meat that Athea offered and scampered away to enjoy its meal.
Byzantium Infected Box Set Page 6
