Nikas gestured at the 2nd Kentarchia marching in front of them, “We owe it to our brothers to be the best we can be, to truly be Ironmen.”
“I too have experienced frustration such as this, but not at quite so young an age as you. My father was a prosperous wine merchant. He owned two vessels that regularly brought wine from the vineyards of Cyprus to Syria province. Thanks to his wealth, I was afforded a good education. You see, I was to take the business from him, so that he could retire and enjoy his wealth. I was taught how to read and to tally figures and how to tell good wines from bad based on their smell and appearance. When the war broke out with Persia, I was eighteen. I was overcome with thoughts of glory and honor. I wanted to join the army and win glory for myself. In my youthful ignorance, I all but thought I could single-handedly put an end to the Persian menace. Staying with my father and being a wine merchant didn’t seem to be nearly as exciting.”
Nikas paused for several moments and sighed deeply. Athos looked down at Nikas’ hands. They were both clenched, and his knuckles had turned white. This must be causing him great pain, Athos thought.
Nikas continued, “Like a damn fool I abandoned my family and joined the Army. It did not take the Kentarches long to figure out that I was good at reading and writing, so I was made a Dekanos at the tender age of nineteen.”
Nikas paused for a moment and looked off in the distance, “It wasn’t long before we were swept up into a massive army marching east. The Persians had breached the frontier and taken Palmyra. They were on the move and threatening Damascus. We moved into Damascus first and waited for the Persians to emerge from the desert. Our commander, ever vigilant, procured some camels and sent a few Kontoubernions on patrol eastward every day. This was done to detect the Persians and so warn Damascus of their approach.”
A great burst of laughter erupted from the men of the 2nd Kentarchia in front of them. Nikas turned red, “Stay here, I’ll return in a minute.” Nikas then increased his pace and drew up alongside the 2nd Kentarchia. He snarled at the men, “What in the nine hells is so damn funny, ladies? I said you could talk amongst yourselves, not alert the entire fucking province that you are coming!”
Nikas inquiry was met with silence. Finally, Constan spoke up, “You see it happened like this, sir. I was telling the lads about a wee’ little lass I used to fancy when Damon interrupted me tale with his arse at a most inopportune moment. Jirair then made the suggestion that I should have followed Damon’s example and blown the problem right out me arse.” He concluded, and after a short pause, added, “Sir.”
“I see,” Nikas said calmly. “Damon, your arse seems to have a lot of energy since it has so much to say. I left both of the empty wine Amphorae back at our campsite this morning. I fancy a look at one of them. Since you have so much energy, run back to the campsite and fetch me one. If you fail to return by the time we reach the base of the mountain, I will ensure you receive five lashes upon our return to Damascus in front of the entire Tourma. Clear?” asked Nikas.
Damon audibly gulped. “Yes, sir!” Damon then turned and ran uphill in the direction of the campsite.
Nikas returned to Athos’ side and continued his story, “One day it was my Kontoubernion’s turn for the eastward patrol. We rode out of Damascus on our camels, filthy animals those camels, they attract flies like a corpse and smell like one too. We rode for a time then came upon an oasis. After a long day of heat, sand, and sweat I thought it would be ok for us to take a break and go for a dip in the Oasis’ pool. Being young and stupid, I failed to set a guard to keep an eye out on things as we swam. That’s where the Persians found us.”
A look of pain flashed across Nikas’ face as he continued, “They snuck up on us and ambushed us while we were all in the water. I was the only prisoner they were interested in, so they made me watch as they slowly tortured my men to death for sport. It was my fault my men died. Because I did not set a guard. My fault. . . ”
He sighed deeply. Athos could see a tear beginning to form on the edge of Nikas’ right eye. He raised his arm and rubbed it away. Nikas turned red with anger, and the pain left his face, “Athos, events such as what happened with your brother and what happened with my men form who we are. Don’t let the pain control you. Instead, take the pain, get angry at the pain, and use it to forge a heart of iron. Only an iron heart will allow you to be successful in the harsh world of soldiering. I vowed to myself that I would never lose another man because I was too easy on them.” Understanding dawned on Athos’ faced and he nodded in response.
“Athos, I tell you this because I see a lot of me in you. I think with experience and guidance you can become a leader. Before you can journey down that road, you must conquer the demons within. Those demons are eating at you right now. They cause you to make stupid mistakes because you are distracted by them. You need to learn, as I learned, to bottle those demons up and use your anger. When controlled, anger can be a tremendous force, giving you the strength you need to live a soldier’s hard life.”
Athos looked Nikas in the eyes, “Yes, sir. I appreciate the time you took here today to encourage me. I can’t tell you that I will be able to just shut off my feelings and replace them with anger as you suggest.”
Nikas nodded in understanding, “Athos, I have outlined what I have done to get past my demons. You, of course, will have to get past your demons in your own way. Perhaps my method will work for you, or you will find another method. Whatever you do, you need to do it quickly. I will not have your inattention result in lost lives. Am I clear?”
“Yes, sir!”
“Good, I’m glad we understand each other. Get your arse back in formation where it belongs!” Nikas yelled at him while grinning.
“Immediately, sir!” Athos saluted Nikas and trotted back to his place in the line.
As Athos returned to his place in the line, Licas, a small Greek with jet black hair and a swarthy complexion, had just started a story. “After the whore nearly cut off my ear I ran out of the brothel and down to the docks. I knew not if she would rally the town against me, so I was looking for a ship that would take me on in exchange for work. I found one bound for Aegyptus that was willing and we sailed out of Thessalonica on the next tide. The next day dawned fair and bright, with blue skies as far as the eye could see but it didn’t last. The northern horizon had a faint shadow that developed into a bank of clouds. After about four hours the storm hit us.”
Theron jibbed, “Are you sure your ear is the only thing the whore nearly cut off?” This brought a chuckle out of everyone listening to the story.
As the laughter died down Constan asked, “So what happened next?”
“The storm tossed around the ship like it was a child’s toy. The captain, his name escapes me, turned the ship into the wind to try and ride it out. The ship rode the waters well despite the huge swells. After a time, a rogue wave came in on our port side and broke right over the vessel. The wave filled the hold with water, and the ship went down. That was the last thing I remembered until I woke up near Berytus and wandered into the town.
Licas broke in, “Here comes the part where he signs his life away like the rest of us damn fools.”
Licas nodded and continued the story, “I was starving, parched, and in rags. I got a drink from a fountain on the edge of town and then hunted for the agora. On my way there a Dekanos spied me. He asked me how I came to be in Berytus in such a state. I told him about the shipwreck and washing up on shore. He said I looked like a strong lad and that I should join the army and become a Skutatoi. Many adventures and riches awaited me if I did.”
Constan broke in, “Aye, lad. The adventures await ye, now that you have completed your training. It was I that saw him in such a sorry state that day. I was on my way here from my previous posting Nicopolis on the Danube.”
Licas clasped Constan on the shoulder, “I am glad you saw potential in me. No one else had.” A gagging noise came from behind Licas. Licas turned and saw Theron with his hand over his
mouth pretending not to throw up. Licas looked up at him and spoke, “What’s your story, then? You’re from Macedonia right?” Theron nodded in reply. “How did you end up here on the edge of the Empire as an Ironman?” Licas asked.
Theron in his armor looked every bit the soldier. He was a perfect specimen of manhood, broad shoulders with bronze skin. Hair the color of oak tree bark, with blond and red highlights from the Syrian Sun. He looked like a true decedent of Heracles. “Aye, I hail from Macedonia. I worked the land with my father and my brothers. We raised goats, sheep, and planted wheat. I felt a special bond with the soil. I enjoyed working with it and making things grow. I could see no other future for myself than farming the land.”
Theron sighed deeply as his face twisted into an expression of pain. “That was before the Bulgars came. They killed my father and had their way with my sisters. I tried to fight them, but they knocked me unconscious. When I awoke, I was riding in our wagon. As the Bulgars led the wagon away with myself and our riches in it, I could see our simple dwelling burning. Laying on the ground in front of our burning dwelling were the corpses of my brothers and my father.”
Athos, with obvious horror on his face, asked, “You lost all of your family on the same day?”
Theron nodded, “Aye.”
Damon glared at Athos, “So what happened next Theron?”
“We headed north. The Bulgars wanted to put as much distance as possible that night between themselves and the scene of their crime. They found a grove, and we slept during the day. Toward evening, a group of bandits came upon us and attacked. The bandits slew the Bulgars and took me as booty. Their intent was to sell me in the local slave market. That is when my luck finally started to turn.”
Theron’s expression changed into a smile, and he continued, “A group of soldiers ambushed the bandits. They were on their way from the Danube area to Antioch. All were veterans of the war with Persia. They told me that they had been reassigned to the East because the Eastern Garrisons were running short on combat veterans from the last war. They freed me from my bonds and took an immediate liking to me. With my family and livestock dead, there was nothing left for me at home. I asked if I could accompany them on their journey and join the Army. They agreed.”
At that moment an eagle flew overhead. Theron stopped his story, and they all watched it for a time as it drifted on the winds. When they lost sight of the majestic bird Theron continued the tale, “We journeyed to Antioch. Once there I was inducted into the Army and assigned to the 5th Parthica. That was earlier this year.”
“We all seem to have been brought together to serve through some form of tragedy,” Athos observed. He then asked, “Is there any of us that haven’t?”
Ilias turned to Athos and asked, “What about your story Athos? You haven’t shared it with us yet.” Athos turned white as a sheet, and his lower lip quivered. “Athos, I’m sorry. I didn’t know the mere mention of it would cause you pain.”
Caifas joined in on the conversation, “I didn’t join because of any tragedy.”
The group remained quiet for several seconds before Ilias said, “What is your story then Caifas?”
Caifas smiled, his white teeth contrasting sharply with his dark brown skin. Caifas looked like most natives of Damascus. His Sassanid ancestry was clear in his features and dark skin. Sassanids were part Persian and part Greek. They dominated the population of Syria and Mesopotamia, “I signed up because I wanted a better life than my father. I grew up as the second son of a fire tender at the armory here in Damascus.”
Illias interrupted, “That does sound pretty boring.”
Caifas nodded at Illias and continued his story, “My father spent long days in the armory ensuring the charcoal fed fires, used by the smiths to make weapons and armor, were maintained at the right temperature. If the fire burned blue, then it was warm enough to forge steel. He took me there several times to watch him work. It was a hellish place, especially during the summer. I saw how hard the work was and how exhausted he was when he returned home for the evening.
Caifas expression turned serious, “I vowed to myself that I would have a better life. I tried to apprentice, but no one wanted an unlettered son of a common laborer. Thanks to that fact, the decision for my future became obvious. The military pays very well, and I will be given a bit of land after twenty-five years. I will use this bounty to ensure that my sons are lettered and apprenticed,” Caifas said with a serious look on his face.
Constan added, “Sounds like a great plan. Serve the Empire, and the Empire will serve you.” This evoked some groans from the group.
When the groaning subsided, Jirair spoke up. Jirair had classical features that were found to be attractive by most. Unlike the rest of the members of the Kontoubernion, he had blond hair. Rare in Syria, this caused the local females to stop whatever they were doing and stare at him. Jirair leveraged this to good effect. He very rarely slept without a companion when duty permitted him nights away from their barracks. Jirair began his tale, “I joined because I wanted to see the world and experience adventure.” Ilais snorted, trying to hold in a laugh, while Jirair glared at him in response.
After Ilais looked away, Jirair continued, “Like Baltazar and Athos, I grew up in Armenia. I had an unremarkable childhood in a boring village where nothing ever happened. My father farmed the land outside of our village. It was hard work, but nothing like Caifas described about his father’s job. I learned to work the land beside my father, and I fell in love with the village elder’s daughter. Her name was Lilit. For a time, I enjoyed living in the village. Days of hard work were followed by evenings with Lilit.”
Cafais interrupted with a mischievous glint in his eyes, “So that’s how you Armenians stayed warm at night!” The caused those listening to break out into laughter.
Jirair turned red and paused for a few moments before finishing, “As time went on, I asked myself more and more often if this is all that there is to life? I grew restless and decided to leave the village. I wanted to adventure and see the world,” Jirair said.
Ilias, unable to hold it in any longer laughed, “Horseshit! You probably got Lilit pregnant. The village elder would have likely strung you up by your balls if he had found out.”
Jirair looked down at his feet and sighed, “Yes, that is exactly what happened. How did you know?”
Ilias’ face broke into a smile, “Because that is why I am here!” Everyone in earshot burst out laughing. Ilias looked away from the laughter. A look of pain flashed across his face. He broke into a grin and looked back so no one could see his pain, but his eyes betrayed his true feelings.
Nikas, turning red with anger, walked over to them purposefully and yelled, “Is there a reason you are disturbing my march?”
Constan responded, “Aye, we just found out that both Jirair and Ilias are here because they made their sweethearts heavy with child!” Nikas looked at both Jirair and Ilias. The anger drained from his face. His eyes gained a strange twinkle to them that most of the group had not seen before. Finally, Nikas couldn’t hold it in any longer and burst out laughing. The entire Kentarchia came to a halt on the mountain path. They just stood there listening to the sound of Nikas’ laughter echo off the mountainside. Most had never heard it before.
Nikas, noticing what had happened, collected himself, and yelled, “Who the fuck gave you permission to stop marching? It damn sure wasn’t me! Unless the lot of you want to double time it back to Damascus and fetch me some wine, I suggest you get your arses moving!” The entire Kentarchia started moving forward again. From this point, the path narrowed, and the downward slope sharpened, so they took care in their footing and stopped talking for a time.
Eventually, they reached a point where the path widened back out again. Ilias turned toward Jirair and asked, “So, how did you come by your straw-colored hair? I have never seen the like.”
Jirair replied, “My mother’s father had come to Armenia from the great mountains to the north. He told her
that the tribes there had skin of a lighter complexion. Many had hair the color of straw. Some, it was said, even had hair the color of fire.” The group gasped in astonishment at this revelation.
Constan joined in the conversation, “Tis’ true. Some of the hairy barbarians from beyond the Danube in Dacia have hair the color of fire. From time to time they would come across the river into Nicopolis and trade. They would trade in furs, amber, and gold for wine. Seems the bastards acquired a taste for good wine when their ancestors lived within the Empire.”
As they marched, Constan turned to Ilias and asked, “We’ve heard how Jirair left his village because he made the fair lass Lilit heavy with child. How about ye tell us your story?
Illias grimaced, “I’d rather not Dekanos.
Constan slapped Illias on the back, “Non-sense! Fair is fair.”
Ilias took a deep breath and let it out slowly before replying, “If I must Dekanos.”
“Yes, you must.” Constan said.
Illias glared at Constan for several moments before relenting, “As you wish Dekanos.” Illias’ venom filled voice spat the last word out. He looked to the heavens and said a silent prayer, “My story begins on the streets of Nicomedia. My father was a seller of furs. He would meet any vessel docking at Nicomedia from the Empire’s trading post at Querson in Scythia. If they had any furs in their cargo, he would try to purchase them. My father established a relationship with many of the trading captains, and they came to expect him at the dock when they arrived. As a result, he was able to get the best rates for the furs.”
Caifas interrupted the tale, “It’s a wonder that so many of you come from prosperous families yet choose to serve.”
Constan replied, “It does not matter what your beginnings. All of us here, in some way, felt trapped and joined the ranks to escape the trap. Continue your story Illias.”
Byzantium Infected Box Set Page 11
