by Tom Cormany
Silence once again enveloped the small glade. After a short time, the whispers started up. Gaius could hear only part of them, but caught fragments of “monster,” “terrible way to die,” “what the hell was that?” and other similar sentiments. He couldn’t blame them, he felt the same way. He paused briefly to make sure his voice wouldn’t catch, and said quietly, “Marcus, assemble the squad leaders again.”
“Anyone got any ideas?” asked Gaius once everyone was assembled.
“What in the name of the gods is that thing?” exclaimed one of his squad leaders.
“I don’t know,” said Gaius, “but that really doesn’t matter.”
“Doesn’t matter?” asked several of them this time.
“No, it doesn’t matter,” continued Gaius. “You know why? We were ordered to find a way into the rear of the Carthaginian fortress and that beast—whatever it is—stands in our way. You know as well as I do the penalty for failure to fulfill a mission—or worse yet, dereliction of duty. It’s death by crucifixion. All of us have done enough executions that we don’t want to end up that way. So, we find a way to defeat this monster and get on with the mission. Now, I want ideas.”
The squad leaders presented ideas and argued the merits of each for a while. Finally, Gaius called a halt. It was mid-afternoon and he wanted to finish this before dark. Only the gods knew what this creature would do after dark. Was it a night hunter? Gaius didn’t think so, but didn’t want to stick around to find out either.
The plan that was chosen in the end was basically the same as the first—with a couple of exceptions. Instead of one squad, two would go. These would be chosen by lot. And, instead of everyone being armed with their long sword, some would have spears and their stabbing knives ready. The close quarters on the trail and at the cave entrance gave some credit to having more than one type of weapon employed.
The two selected squads were ready within minutes of the decision. When the men were gathered to inform them of the plan, it was discovered that there were six deserters already—half of them from the selected squads. Privately, Gaius didn’t blame them. Ahead, a terrible fate awaited them. This wasn’t battle, where a soldier could die honorably. There was nothing glorious in being eaten as some monster’s dinner. However, as leader of the century, he was furious—it reflected on him as well. He could be punished for the desertions of his men.
The eighteen men of the two squads advanced up the trail. Gaius followed a short distance behind. He had to watch and learn from what happened, should they fail. At the edge of the trees, he halted.
“Good luck men,” he said, “and the gods be with you.”
He watched them push their way up the trail. Once again, they paused a few feet back from the entrance—summoning their courage. There was no doubt about who or what was in the cave. Many of their comrades would die in the next few minutes.
The men rushed the entrance. This time, there was no delay as the monster was ready for them. Perhaps, the first time it had been asleep or distracted, but there was no pause in its response now. As soon as the first man cleared the cave entrance, it rushed out. And, as before, it was a bloody affair.
Three more men went over the edge of the cliff. Gaius could hear their screams cut short as they landed below. The beast whirled around in a frenzy—slashing with its claws and swinging its tail. One soldier was caught between the knob and a protruding rock from the cliff face. The sound was like no other Gaius had ever heard.
The beast gave a great roar and whipped its head around to its flank. One of the spears had bit deeply and the middle leg had collapsed. If anything else, this only seemed to enrage the creature even more. It whirled and danced with an even greater energy.
Suddenly, it was simply too much, the remaining men broke and ran back down the trail towards Gaius. Not even pausing to stop, they rushed past him and into the woods. Only the one squad leader stopped. The other was dead. Together with Marcus, the two of them watched as the beast gave a last roar and disappeared back into its lair. Only then, did the two turn their backs on the monster and headed slowly back to the clearing.
Once there, they discovered the panic in the fleeing soldiers had incited a panic among the others who had been watching this second attempt. Their terror had caused most of the rest of the century to flee into the woods. The fleeing soldiers had dropped spears, swords and other equipment in their haste. They wanted to get as far away as they could from the nightmare in the cliff.
Marcus, of course, had stayed behind, as did the squad leader who had walked back with him, but all his other leadership was gone. The men who had not fled looked spooked. If someone yelled “boo,” Gaius thought he would lose most of the rest. It was time to do something about that.
“Men,” he said, “I don’t know exactly what to say, except thank you for not running. To not run is the bravest thing I have ever seen. You and your fellows have faced a horror of the most unexpected kind. We expect to die in battle, not at the hands of some unknown beast. But, let me tell you something—that beast has one or more of its legs out commission, and it bleeds. If it bleeds, it can be killed. And killing it is something we must do. Not for Rome, but for those who live around here. Future Roman citizens. Carthage will be defeated—it is inevitable. It is your duty to protect and serve those who live in the villages and towns around here. We would be shirking our duty if we left that beast alive. Many of you have lovers, wives, friends, and family back home. Would you want them left to the mercy of that monster? I think not.
“Now, I give you a choice. One you must make freely and with no concern for me or for Rome. Your conscience must guide you. I, myself, have decided the monster must die. If I need to, I will attack alone. However, I ask of you to consider joining me in this attack. It may be that all of us will perish. If we kill the monster, then our duty and our conscience is clean. We go to the halls of our fathers with honor. But, considering the horror we have faced, I count it no shame among you if you decide leave. But do so openly, not as a coward. I give you ten minutes to decide among yourselves.”
As Gaius spoke, he could see his words were having a calming effect upon the men. Sure, they still looked frightened, but now, no more so than before a big battle. They were up against a formidable foe and they knew it. But, they also knew that this foe could be killed. Gaius counted them silently as he waited for their response. Twenty-seven men were left. Just twenty-seven. Yesterday, he had set out with more than one hundred.
Caught up in his musings, he noticed Marcus had appeared at his side. “Sir,” said Marcus, “you know I will be at your side until the death. I owe you a life debt from our campaign in Greece, and today I fulfill that debt.”
“Marcus,” replied Gaius, “I never doubted you or your courage. I knew you would stay by my side even without the obligation of a life debt. I welcome your courage and your sword by my side.”
Calling the group back together, Gaius called each man by name and asked for his answer. Of the twenty-seven, twelve of them chose not to fight. Their heads hung in shame, but he told them not to feel any shame. There were horrors in this world that could overwhelm a man. He charged them to behave honorably and to make their way as they saw fit—whether to return to Rome’s army, or to make new lives. To the rest, he charged that should any of them survive this encounter, they were to make their way back to the main camp and inform them of the unit’s demise. Any deserters were simply to be reported as killed in action.
Gaius only had sixteen men—including himself—to attack the monster.
“Men, this isn’t going to be pretty,” he began, “but you aren’t used to pretty. This is a fight to the death. To give up is to die. When you fight, think of your loved ones back home. You would want a stranger to guard them in your absence. Think of your honor. Think of your comrade’s honor. If we are to
die, we will die well. We are soldiers of Rome.”
Gaius split the force—smaller than the second attack—between himself and Marcus. They armed themselves with every available weapon—including those dropped by the fleeing soldiers earlier. They then proceeded up the path towards the cliff. Once again, the plan was simply to try to overwhelm the monster before it overwhelmed them.
As senior officer, Gaius led the way. As he paused before the entrance, he understood the fear that the others had felt. Taking a deep breath, he leaped into the opening.
Just like before, the monster was suddenly there—whirling and twisting wildly. He saw Marcus thrown over the cliff almost immediately. But, it seemed the monster was slowing down. In the frenzy of movement, Gaius saw two swords stuck into the creature, and another leg had collapsed. Several more of his men were down. It was dying. But it was dying hard and taking as many of his men with it as it could. Now, it was down to just him and two others. He backed up to swing again and fell over one of the bodies on the path. Coming down heavily, he pinned himself on an upturned sword, and could only watch the outcome.
Horrified, he saw one of the two pinned between the monster’s club tail and the cliff face. The man was squashed as a person would squash a bug. The other, continued to stab away until the monster clamped down on the man’s arm and pulled it off. Blinded by pain, the man staggered over the cliff to his death on the rocks below.
With just him left, the monster did not seem to see him at first. Gaius tried to pull himself off the sword and the movement appeared to attract the monster’s attention. The creature dragged itself over to him and loomed over him. Sensing he was about to die, all Gaius could do is to watch the creature open its mouth. Saliva dripped from its teeth. He could see bits of his soldiers in its mouth.
“Dear,” it said, “do you think this makes me look fat?”
Gary jerked himself back into reality and saw that his wife had approached and was holding up a dress. He had promised her that he would take her shopping for their anniversary, but he had no idea that women could shop so much. He was bored stiff an hour into it, and that had been more than four hours ago. Once again he told himself that he hated shopping malls.
“No, honey,” he replied, “it looks fine to me.”
“Good,” she said, “I only have one more thing I want to look at.” He had heard that twice already today. She turned and walked back into the women’s store, which coincidentally looked a bit like the entrance to a dark cave. As he watched her walk off, he glanced off to his side at the other stranger waiting patiently beside him. His conscience mind failed to realize the man bore a remarkable resemblance to Marcus.
Sighing and switching positions, he settled back into his chair, relaxing into that semi-comatose mode typical of all men shopping with their wives. As his mind wandered off, it was the fourth quarter of the game and his beloved Colts were behind by four points. The crowd cheered as Gary walked onto the field, ready to commandeer the winning drive…
If you enjoyed this short story, please look for Mr. Cormany's collection of short stories similar to this one called, "Awakenings."
About the Author
Mr. Cormany was born and raised in the Midwest. He is an avid reader and has done writing in his professional life.
Following a major change in his life, Mr. Cormany decided to devote more of his time to writing. At the encouragement of friends and family, the results are what you see here.
Mr. Cormany is a believer in Yeshua (Jesus) as Messiah. Some of the stories you will find here are secular and some are religious. For the secular stories, he has kept out graphic violence, sex scenes, and foul language in honor of his Savior.
In addition to writing, the author enjoys reading, biking, hiking, and working on models. He currently resides in the South where he continues to write.
Please search online bookstores for other Tom Cormany titles.
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Illustrations by Bryan Feldmann.
Cover art by CJ Martin--the author of the Tanaka thrillers.
