[Mkguild] Roman Story part 39

[cokane8116 at aol.com]

Sorry for the delay in posting this part!
ChrisThe Lurking Fox


    The entire Century was preparing for over amonth. Making sure that all the armor and weapons were ready. Indeed checkingthat all their equipment was ready.  Check, rechecking and checking one more time.    What made Bitt nervous was they were allissued two extra canteens in addition to the one each of them already had.    “We’re going to the desert,” The decanusexplained.    “Desert?”    “Have you been to it?”    “No,” the fox answered hesitantly. “I’veheard stories. Big, hot, flat. No life.”    The hound nodded. “You left out the sharprocks and stinging dust storms.”    “And don’t forget the searing heat, poisonoussnakes and biting insects,” the hyena added.    “Why are we going there?” Bitt asked. “Whowould want a place so desolate?”    “No one. It’s a no where,” came the sharpreply. “But it’s a no where on the road to everywhere. The only way for thespices and incense of the east to get to the empire is across the desert.”    “Be sure to bring that cooling box ofyours,” Vinius said. “We’ll need it.”    “We have a small arraignment,” the lion saidin a conspiratorial tone. “We each put in a month’s pay and once we get therewe buy as much as we can. Bring it back here where we can sell it and make avery nice profit.”    “Sounds great!” Bitt said cheerfully. “How muchcan we make?”  ************     Bitt made his way through the market. He wasnot just browsing but was on a special mission. One merchant though enough ofher products to send the fox a message. Telling Bitt of a special item she hadfor sale.    The shop was a smaller one, on a side streetbut only a few steps off. Close enough to catch traffic that was passing on themain road. He had been there before. The panther always seemed to have interestingitems for sale. Just recently he had found a fine wool jacket, carefullyembroidered with the emblem of Clan Dalachaie. Today she had something special.    It was wrapped in several layers of clothand kept in a stout wooden box barely a pes long. Inside was a sword. Theweapon had a single-edged blade that pitched forward towards the point, theedge was concave near the hilt, but convex near the point. It was a falcata. Astyle of blade long out of common use.    “May I see it?” Bitt asked.    “You can already see it,” The feline didn’tmove.    “I want to see it up close,” The foxcountered.    Reluctantly she pushed the blade towards theLegionnaire but didn’t let go of the box.    “I’m not going to run away with it,” the foxsaid in clipped tones. Slowly she released her grip and withdrew her hand.    Bitt examined theweapon and found that the blade was of bronze, dirty and green in spots withverdigris. The hilt was of some dark wood and chased with bronze and gold. Theend of the hilt curved down and was a stylized head of a snarling animal ofsome sort.    Itwas old, very old. No one in the clans or even the Mintiri used a weapon likethis. The shape was unusual, and no one used bronze as a weapon anymore. Ironwas the master of bronze and steel was the master of iron. A blade of the blackmetal would easily smash armor and shatter a weapon of bronze. But the etchingon the blade had the long, sweeping, flowing grace that Celtic artists werefamous for. And the head on the hilt seemed familiar. Probably supposed torepresent some monster from Celtic mythology.    This was probably some clan relic. Atreasured artifact from days long past into hazy myth and legend. Something tobe proudly displayed in some prominent place and talked about. Certainly no onehad wielded it in combat in centuries. If ever.    Bitt carefully put the item back down on thecounter. He was quiet for a moment. He tapped the counter absentmindedly withone finger as he considered. “Five thousand Denari,” The fox finally offered.    She shook her head roughly. “Twenty-fivethousand,” was her emphatic answer.    The fox rubbed his hands together as ifbrushing off imaginary dirt. Then he held them up, palms out. “I’m done. Ten ismy last offer.”    “STILL you insult me,” the feline snarled.“You want a pittance for such a valuable artifact!”    The fox held out both hands and wiggled hisfingers. All ten of them. “Ten.”    “Again you insult me,” she countered.“Twenty-five or nothing.”    The vulpine took several steps back. “Thenwe are done.” With those words he turned and slowly walked away.    **************     The Seventh Century of the Seventy Sixthlegion was lined up on the parade ground in full marching kit. Standing infront of them was Centurion Feriolius. The wolf was also in full marching kit.    “Good morning my Legionnaires.” He said in asarcastic/sweet tone that would be recognizable to soldiers two millennialater. “I hope you all had a good night’s sleep because we are going on a nicelittle trip for a few months.”    “For those of you Milos this is nothing new.For your Tiros this is going to be a tough go,” the centurion said. “Rememberyour training and follow the orders the Milos give you and you will survive.”    The centurion personally inspected each andevery legionnaire. He seemed to examine Bitt for a long time. Finally, he grunted,nodded and moved on.    Instead of going to the piers in town to thewest the century marched out the south gate and to the road headed south. Twodays hard marching south brought them to the sea. Here was Potro Meridionalis.Which translates to South Port.    It was a busy port with ships of all shapesand sizes arriving, leaving, being loaded or unloaded. The Legionnaires quicklymade their way to the piers that held the ships of the Imperial Navy.    After waiting at the pier for a long time theyfound themselves on an Oneraria, which was a large, tubby cargo ship. It wasslow and could carry a lot of cargo. It was also a surprisingly stable craft. Afact Bitt was very grateful for.    The ship took them two days south bypassinga month’s marching. Bitt would have preferred the march as he was seasick theentire voyage.    Their destination made Bitt seriously worryabout the mental state of the person who had come up with their orders. Henever did learn its official Empire name but the Legionnaires called it LaMakan which meant Nowhere. It was a fitting name. There was no town or villageof any sort. There was a single, stone tower barely two stories tall. A halfdozen Legionnaires stood around it as two more looked down from it’sbattlements.    There wasn’t even a real pier, just a longstretch of straight wall that made up the seawall. The sole thing on the wallwas a large stone with a hole in it. The ship simply pulled up to it and thesailors tied it to the stone. A road ran past the landing point, going east andwest. Both directions leading into empty desert.    They formed up on a piece of level ground. Acount was taken and then they started marched to the east. Dust billowed up andclouded the air as it covered them and made the Legionnaires cough and choke. Bittlearned a useful trick. He tied a wet cloth around his nose and muzzle and thatkept most of the dust out of his throat.    Soon they left the relative comfort of thecoast and entered the deep desert. What little plant and animal life there wasvanished quickly. Replaced by rock and sand. The only sign of civilization wasthe road itself. The stone road kept going arrow straight to the east and theyfollowed it. Regardless of which direction he looked all Bitt saw was emptyroad leading off into the empty distance.  ***************
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