[Multi AAR] The Epic of Caelvs Morsvs Lvminivs - 'Rí Inse Ghall' - FINISHED, with EPILOGUE!

[SonOfAlexander]

I agree and more importantly don't care less.

[SonOfAlexander]

Chapter 7: I am death, the destroyer of worlds…
For James Gardner, who is almost as weird as me…

And then, with a rush of wind, the battlefield fell silent. Caelus had never seen or heard anything quite like it. Several thousand men, in the bitter enmity of combat, all completely silent and facing each other, totally still. The only sounds were those of the men breathing in their mortal exhaustion, the vultures crying their hollow calls from overhead and the blood dripping on the Macedonian grass. A whole battle hung in the battle and the men simply stood there. No-one could ever have visualised such a thing, and Caelus closed his eyes and bowed his head in disbelief as the sound of the hooves of Scipio’s horse faded away over the horizon.




The Macedonians all turned, as one beast, one sweating, blood lusting beast. They lowered their pikes and, looking their now disorderly Roman counterparts in the eye, roared. They shouted for but a brief second, a short cry of confidence. They shook their pikes as they shouted in perfect unison, then were quite again. The silence remained for another few seconds. Then, the dam broke and the tension was unreleased in the fury of a wild ass’ kick.



The Triarii, the hardy, defensive, most coherent line of the Roman Legion, turned and nervously, with obvious haste, turned on their heels and marched the other way, all the time cautiously checking over their shoulders. The Macedonians shouted again, then again, and each time, the Triarii jumped and shook in their anxiety , then continued marching. This was a fantastic morale boost for the Macedonians, but the massively depleted Principes and Hastati were stunned. Then Caelus did what he would never have thought he could bring himself to do.

Caelus turned and shouted at the top of his voice - “RUN! WE MUST RUN! ROMA‘S EVENTUAL VICTORY DEPENDS ON US!”. The pikemen had turned, startled as though they had somehow forgot this breach of their line for a minute. Nothing happened at first, but then the first men started to turn and run. Then whole centuries, and finally whole cohorts ran with increasing desperation.

These men were as honourable as any - they would have defended Roma, even though it was pointless at the moment. But their general, having first sent them on suicidal sojourns against the enemy pikes, then ran from the field, was extremely disheartening. The Triarii, their rock, their stability had turned and run, and now, the Macedonians were made to look far superior. And to round off the punishment, a cohort commander had shouted the tabooed fear - they must flee! Surely it was the only thing to do that was profitable for Roma!

The Triarii now broke into a run, filled with the all-consuming desperation of self-preservation. Caelus had once heard a German say that anyone will do terrible, terrible things to live just one more day. He had heard nothing more true, but the thought could not satisfy him in any way. He turned and his blood ran ice cold, cold to his very bones. It chilled his soul and froze his countenance as he was bewitched by the terror before him.

The Macedonian Thessaly Cavalry were now heading out from behind the enemy ranks.

Caelus then felt it for the first time in his life. It certainly wouldn’t be the last, and he would hear it from many positions, but it never became any less terrifying, any less paralyzing. He was gripped by not just the adrenaline that he always felt running through his still living veins in battle, the power and clarification of thought. But also by the cold sweat, the muscle tightening, the sharpening of reactions and the ultimate instinct to run, to get away. His eyes widened as his fright took over his decisions, but did not ruin him like it did to most men.

That sound… O, that sound. The one thing that could let anything approaching cowardice approach Caelus’ heart. It was the sound of hooves.

The mad drumming, the frantic racing getting faster and faster, unceasing, racing time, accelerating, driving forward for the kill, the beat of the gods’ drums.




The rational part of Caelus’ mind kept him running as Cohort VII continued to withdraw. He glanced to his left and right and saw that the whole army was running along a road, the way that they had entered the plain by Lake Bigorritis that was to be their battlefield. It had been cleared for 50 yards on either side but the woodland that snaked along a river line on the left would make good cover and Caelus knew that his men could hide there with ease… That is, as long as the rest of the Legio IV Macedonica didn’t try and copy them.




“Decimus, Silvanus! Antonius, Tullio! Follow me, quickly!” Caelus shouted, and grabbed Silvanus, who had not heard Caelus through the white noise and the pandemonium. They pivoted and headed into the woods. They dived into a ditch and turned to make sure that no-one followed them. They did everything almost as one, certainly making the same decisions. This was the effect of many months of tough training together.




They watched as the Thessaly cavalry, in their hurry missed them all together and simply ran through the routing Romans in loose formation, cutting them down with their spears easily. The Triarii, although they left first, were weighted down by their heavy armour. They had just realised this and were starting to shed their helmets and shields. However, it was too late and the cavalry struck them down just the same, like flies.





Caelus was about to turn to his men an start outlining a plan to get them back to Apollonia so that they could link up with the garrison there. However, before he could speak, he felt the cold steel of a xiphos pressed into the back of his neck. “Operor non permoveo , vel mos iuguolo vos.” said a strongly Greek accented Latin voice.
‘Don’t move, or I’ll kill you.”

The men all turned around. Caelus could now see that they all had swords pointed at them by 4 Macedonians. The men were wrapped in cloaks and carried bags with parchment practically spilling out. They all had daggers and swords at their belts. They were clearly not frontline soldiers but, Caelus thought, scouts for the main force. Although they might not exactly be heavy infantry, they still held the cards. They might be used as spies and assassins too, Caelus reasoned. Then the man holding a sword to Caelus’ neck spoke to Silvanus, again in his heavily accented Latin. “You. Pretty boy. You look like a Hellene. Why don’t you translate for us?” Silvanus remained motionless. The man then uttered a single word to the man nearest Silvanus and flicked his wrist. The man hauled Silvanus to his feet and pressed the sword into his kidneys. It was a practised move, and it drew blood, although it went no further than his skin.

“You will get no -” Silvanus began, but the man cut him short with another jab and a twist of his hair. The first man, who Caelus saw as the leader, spoke to him in Greek. He continued for a while, and Caelus caught certain phrases … ‘strategos…Anaklèsis…Kryptès Makedoniki…’

He understood these words , as although he spoke Latin and the Gallic languages more fluently than any other, he only knew a few words of Greek that he had picked up in Apollonia from Aemilius Corcata, his Aquifer. ‘general…withdraw…Macedonian Kryptès…’

Caelus had heard of the Greek Kryptès. Invented by the Spartans to keep the citizens of Lacedaemon, the Helots, in check. The idea had been copied by the Macedonians and if the future Roman Emperor Constantine the Great had seen them, he would have called them Greek ‘Praeventores‘. They were highly trained, ruthless and expert spies and assassins, carrying all sorts of compact weapons, mostly daggers and sickles to carry out their missions with. These men must have been observing the rear of the Roman line before the battle from this wood. They had watched the Romans go, then hid as they saw Caelus and his men approach, then turn to watch the retreat.

“Caelus” said Silvanus, with trepidation as the Macedonian stopped talking. “This Hellene…” He spat, and smiled in his mind as the man wiped the glob from his eye with distaste. “He wishes to know why he shouldn’t run us through right now.” He stared the Macedonian in the face, defying him. The man’s eyes widened in anger and he snarled, knocking Silvanus to the ground with a swipe of the hilt of his sword. He then spoke again in his amateur Latin.

“I did not tell you to get down!” he shouted. Silvanus stood up, blood pouring from his nose as he struggled to focus his eyes. The man then took a step back and really kicked Silvanus hard, in the groin. Silvanus gave a high-pitched cry as he doubled over and shrank in his pain.

“I did not tell you to get up!” The man said, laughing. “You may be only of limited use to us now, pretty boy.” He smiled and said something to his men, who all laughed in their Greek voices which always reminded Caelus of a little boy. Silvanus’ face drained instantly of any colour that had remained and he struggled harder than ever, despite the intense pain in his nether region.

The man walked along the line, looking at each of them in turn. “Barbaros… doulos…romani…’. Even Caelus understood that the man was talking about barbarians, slaves and Romans. He then looked at Caelus and stopped, switching to his uneasy Latin once more. “What have we here? Clearly not a mere Hastatus - I have never seen such a mind.” He squatted and looked into Caelus’ eyes. “So much pain, so much intelligence, so much potential… I can see it all in your eyes. It’s in your soul.” He stood up, walked a few paces then turned around. “We have a saying in Macedonia. ‘εκεί αποκλείεται του εύρημα δικό σου κατεύθυνση μέσα στο μάτια‘.Literally, ‘there’s no way of finding your direction in the eyes’. In other words, ignorant Rom…” Caelus jumped up and pushed the man, and the others instantly pointed their swords at him. He looked at them, his cold, penetrating stare that made you feel like he could see your innermost thoughts. It unsettled them.

“As I WAS saying, Romani… It means that you can’t tell what someone is thinking just by looking at them. With lesser men, this is s ***. But as far as you are concerned… I cannot tell.” Caelus had his hands behind his head, as they had forced him to. All the while he listened and slowly withdrew his pugio from a secret scabbard on a strap on the back of his neck that his father had given him. Decimus tensed his muscles as Silvanus slowly, still in agony, removed the spearhead from his spear, again behind his head. The long handle on it meant he could stab with it. Tullio clenched his fists. They were ready.

Caelus heard Tullio’s knuckles click as he tightened them. He knew that they were all ready. He leapt forward with an inhuman flight and in one swift movement took the pugio from behind his head and planted it into the pulsing vein in the neck of the Macedonian ‘leader’.

Silvanus span round at the same second that Caelus started to move and ran the spearhead straight through the enemy’s groin, who screamed but with no sound. The man keeled over and died instantly. The spearhead however, broke off in the man’s pelvis. Silvanus turned around and heard a Roman voice screaming in death throes.
Antonius lay there with the xiphos in his lung, gasping for another second, and then his hand fell and the gods truly claimed the man of religion. Decimus turned to strike at the man, but he swung the dagger too far back, and the Macedonian tripped him with a neat spin of his leg. Decimus lay there on his backside, struggling to rise as Silvanus picked up his spear and twirled it, smashing it on the man’s flank. It shattered, but the enemy apparently felt nothing. Caelus grabbed Decimus’ flax and, with a nostalgic feeling of familiarity, slashed and deflected, striking and parrying. The man backed against a tree and thought them all off, Silvanus now using his gladius. The man threw Caelus off one last time and Caelus gathered breath for one moment to recommence the attack. However, he watched as the man was propelled sideways, falling flat. An arrow protruded stubbornly from his broken skull, with grey fluid oozing noisily from between the fractured plates.

Caelus turned and saw Decimus holding Antonius’ bow. They stared at him in astonishment - Decimus had never held a bow in his life and had just shot this man in the head from 20 yards. Tullio opened his mouth to ask but Decimus shook his head. Tullio stabbed the body with clear anger - “Hur! Macedonian bastards… Antonius.” They all nodded solemnly, and then to break the deadly silence Caelus said “Even so, Decimus…” as he gave an expression of clear surprise. “It’s not as hard as it looks - I’ve watched enou-” He was taken aback as a hand was pulled over his mouth and he managed to instinctively raise a hand to block the curved, serrated dagger now quivering as the owner tired to slit Decimus’ throat.

2 more Kryptès had dropped from the branches of the trees and the other was having a fistfight with Silvanus. Caelus snatched up a branch as Tullio drew his gladius from his scabbard. They both stopped and raised their heads as they heard branches snapping. They turned and saw 10 fully armoured Macedonian Hoplites walking through the woods shouting. Clearly they had heard the fight but could not yet see them. They were only 80 yards away. Soon they would see them and Caelus knew that there would be no hope for them. He looked at Tullio’s face as if to say ‘What do I do?’ . Silvanus got hit in the jaw with a vicious left jab that sent 2 teeth flying and Decimus was repeatedly beating the other man, who was almost unconscious, in the face and chest. He looked at Decimus.

“Caelus, Tullio - if you don’t go now, you won’t make it.” He stopped and kicked the man again. “I’ll help Silvanus. We’ll make it. If you stay to help then they’ll catch us all and… well I don’t know.” he said, blurring his words together in his urgency. “Vado… VADO!” he shouted. Caelus was reluctant but Tullio pulled him away and they ran off into the undergrowth as Decimus kicked the man attacking Silvanus on the knee, damaging it. Caelus turned away and ran with Tullio. He would not know truly what became of both Silvanus and Decimus for another 10 years.

[Pics will be coming soon]

[Feragorn]

Aw man, Now I really want pictures!!!!! Great job as always.

[SonOfAlexander]

I've got pics on now. Can you see which ones i've edited?

[Feragorn]

I like the pictures on this one. I'm still waiting for the axe, though.

[SonOfAlexander]

New update today!

[SonOfAlexander]

Chapter 8: That devil, the human mind
For my little brother who gave a spear

Caelus and Tullio ran. They ran till their hearts beat against their chests, straining on their ribcages like a pair of mad beasts. Wild horses couldn’t have touched them as they flew through the undergrowth. At first they heard a cry come from behind, then another. They continued to run until they reached a small stream. They looked back and heard only their maniacal breathing and the ambience of the forest. The moonlight strained to shine through the trees, a celestial chandelier.

They drank eagerly and then continued, but walking now. Soon Caelus saw a forest clearing and here he could see the stars. They used them to get a vague direction so that they could go west, in the opposite direction to the Macedonian’s march. They would have to go over the mountains that hemmed in the plain beside Lake Bigorritis that was where the battle took place. It would be hard, but they would be away from the Macedonians very quickly.

For the next few hours they clambered over loose scree and walked through gulleys in the hills, filled with boulders. Owls watched them in their eerie calling to the night and the darkness reassured Tullio, covering him almost like a blanket Caelus reasoned. They reached a ledge of granite which protruded obtusely from the hillside. They were about to walk past it when Caelus stopped. Stopped dead as an elephant in quicksand.

Tullio’s eyes widened as the night lit them. The black pools stared at Caelus for a second before he heard footsteps. A soft rustling in the grass. There was now voices and two of them. It was impossible to tell what they were saying but Tullio thought it was Latin. He went to round the corner but Caelus pulled him back and silently as a dormouse slithered on top of the ledge and peered over it. Tullio was beside him in a second.

The men carried large hoplons which glinted in the moonlight. The sun pattern on them was clearly visible. They were speaking in Greek and were wearing their lamellar armour and sandals, but for some reason were without their helmets or spears. However, Caelus silently cursed as he saw the Xiphos in each man’s belt. These men weren’t on a march - they must have a camp nearby and these men were merely fetching water or simply taking the air with each other. Those queers, the Macedonians thought Caelus. He nudged Tullio and gripped his fringe indicating that Tullio should kill the one with hair whereas the other man, a balding, relatively old man. They kept a low profile as the men drew level, completely unaware of their presence.

They then squatted on all fours and simultaneously jumped - no, dived onto the men. They crumpled and were both winded instantly. The bald man however, didn’t gasp and cough, trying to regain his breath. He would never breath again as Caelus had done well to both use the man to break his fall and to break his neck in the process, puncturing the windpipe and crushing the spinal cord of the Hellene. Tullio was digging into his pain, agonising and writhing.

Tullio had landed badly and the pugio that he was holding had slipped and fallen away out of sight in the darkness. Tullio could only watch as, unable to stand on his sprained ankle as the Macedonian realised what was going on and raised his xiphos above his head. Caelus saw the enemy twirl the sword theatrically through his fingers, not having seen Caelus standing in the shadow of the granite ledge. It was all Caelus needed. He hurled his arm back and, jumping, pushed with his legs against the rock.
He sprang out of the shadows and hung there in the white lit space like some figurine of the gods. His shoulder fired into the man’s chest and the man was lucky enough to fall back as a crush with this move could have crushed his ribs. He fell back winded as Caelus then pivoted on one heel and pushed with the other. He had practised these moves frequently with his father and had expanded upon it whilst he kept himself fluent in unarmed combat training, in Mediolanum with the Gauls there.

He span round to face the man and before the Macedonian had even realised what was happening he had plunged his gladius into the man’s shoulder. He then withdrew and stabbed in quick succession, wounding the man’s hips and elbows beyond repair. He then stood back, took the man’s xiphos and pointed it at his throat. “Give me one reason now why I shouldn’t gut you like a fish right here.” said Caelus breathing heavily. The man tried to raise his arms, but they cracked and fell as he sat there shivering. He saw this, and relaxed them, snivelling and crying in his slowly dying torment.

“Please, don’t. I can give you… denarii. Lots of denarii.” The man said. Tullio slowly prodded an exposed tendon, making him cry out. “In what form?” he asked. The Hellene spoke Latin of course, but uneasily. “Uh…fo… oh. We have shields. YES, yes, lots of shields!” he was growing delirious now. “We are the βασιλικός προστατεύω… uh, Royal Guards. ROYAL PIKEMEN!” He shouted as his anguish reached a temporary peak. “Yes, ναι… we have hoplons engraved with gold… χρυσόs… they are worth a lot and a new cart… κάρο!… They are worth a fortune, they could last you your entire LIFE!” he shouted again as his concentration slipped. He was fading.

“Where? Where is this treasure?” said Caelus, leaning very close to the dying man to catch his frantic, dry whispers. “There is a κάροfull in the camp.” Caelus listened and fingered delicately the axe at his belt. Appius’ axe.

“You know, I once heard a man talking of the Ινδόs that Megos Alexanderos went to. He said that in their holy book there was a phrase - ‘εγώ είμαι θάνατος , αντιτορπιλικό του κόσμοs‘ - ‘I am death, destroyer of worlds’. I never thought I‘d believe him.“ Caelus prepared to pull it back, but then the man wheezed a single coughing gasp and lay down flat, finally dead with all his life blood soaking into the soil around. Caelus could not despoil the axe with a dead one’s blood - it must kill! Before Caelus could truly regret it though, Tullio pulled him to his feet and pointed into the darkness. More men were approaching, very far off. Tullio helped Caelus to drag the bodies out of the way before they headed off down the slope.

It was still night-time, but in a few hours the sun would start to invade the darkened sky. Caelus soon saw ahead a small circular conglomeration of tents, with a fire in the middle and some horse tied to a few trees standing nearby. Caelus could see an old, abandoned stone temple which was still standing, although clearly neglected. He was certain that the cart was behind that.

He crept round the edge of the temporary settlement with Tullio, who although a bit slow could now walk a little. They dodged whores wondering between tents, shooed silently any dogs that investigated them and avoided altogether any soldiers. They reached the back of the stone temple and crouched in an alcove, undetected. They saw that there was a sentry standing by the cart, which really was covered in hoplons. It was stacked high, and whether or not the dying Macedon was telling the truth, it was worth the while taking. He was facing out across the rolling hills, rather than towards the mountains. The moonlight would hide their movements perfectly.




Tullio wormed his way over the ground as if he had studied it before, and expertly slit the man’s throat, drowning any shouts in the blood and his hand. He pulled the body over the cart where Caelus quickly dropped it in a tent. Nobody noticed. The two horses attached to the cart simply tossed their heads and continued to chew the grass, unconcerned with the petty squabbles of humans.

They climbed on. Tullio found a small box nailed to the front containing about 20 1½-foot long throwing spears with sleek, smooth spearheads. He sat on the top and watched for anyone who might notice them. Caelus untied the horses and swung himself into the seat of the cart and grabbed the reins. He uttered a soft, low pitched whistle, and it echoed around the area. But it sounded very like a horse, and that was the intention. The horses, almost silently lifted their heads and began to move.
They were near the edge of the ‘fort’ when a Macedonian saw them and started to walk alongside. Caelus saw this out of the corner of his eye and fingered one of the spears, nudging Tullio. Without turning around, Tullio tugged the reins a fraction, just enough to give the horses a little of a sense of urgency. The man started to jog alongside and talked to them in Greek, simply asking them something convivial. They ignored him and he started to question them. Caelus now raised the spear. The enemy saw it glinting in the moonlight and started to turn and run. Tullio threw but the man still managed to cry “ROMA--!” before the spear pierced him and he fell.

Tullio wasted no more time. He gripped hard and urged the horses to gallop and gallop they did. Luckily for them, the cart had been made by the master chariot craftsmen at Pella as it was an honourable thing it was carrying. It was robust enough to carry them away into the night. But then Caelus heard it again. The sound of hooves. Not as many but they were still there. And accelerating towards them.




Tullio saw 5 cavalrymen who must have just left the base. They were Companions, usually heavily armoured but on this occasion they had not been able to wear their helmets or carry their leopard skin pelts. Caelus raised a spear and with robotic precision planted it right on his target. However the man ducked and the spear only tore his ear. Tullio quickly raised and fired again. Again it missed, but it hit the horse of a man behind and it went down, dead in an instant.




Tullio turned to see a Companion throw his Xyston, which clumsily waved through the air. The man was no fool however, and it pierced Tullio’s shin. He grunted and shouted as it first scraped the bone, then tore it’s way out, leaving an elliptical hole. It fell under the cart and was instantly crushed. Caelus threw 5 more in quick succession and these killed 2 more enemies, sending blood spurting from their chest. He looked up as the final enemy threw his Xyston. Again the aim was precise and Caelus’ foot was pinned to a hoplons. He cried with the excruciation and yanked it out. The wound flowed freely as he raised the Xyston, with hoplon still comically attached like a parachute. He calculated and threw with all his strength.

The hoplon dragged the spear in a straight flight and the speed of the horses combined with the might of Caelus’ throw gave the spear incredible energy. It went straight through the man, whose nose and mouth had been damaged by the shield’s rim. Now only one remained. But the box was empty. Caelus had run out of spears.
He reached into his bag and realised that he would never forgive himself if he missed and lost it all. He swung Appius’ axe through the air, and it spun, clumsily as axes do but true enough. All the practice had paid off. The last Companion was killed and they were alive for now.

Caelus realised he was in a cold sweat. He tried to relax, wiped his forehead with a dirty forearm and ushered the exhausted horses on.

[Feragorn]

Wow. Great post! I love the bit about the axe. How is this going to be incorporated in BI? They take place hundreds of years apart...

[SonOfAlexander]

It isn't... I merely use BI for screenshots when particular units or situations, like the night (the nighttime is rubbish on Vanilla) make it convenient. I know I used Carriage Ballistae and cavalry of the ERE but it was as close as I could get to a chariot with a couple of guys on it, not archers, being chased by a few Macedonians. I thought that the effect was good, and the other option is to have no pics at all .

The next part of his journey has begun! Caelus is no longer dedicated to Rome but himself, and his exodus.

[Feragorn]

WOOHOO! Where is he going exactly?

[SonOfAlexander]

"The secret to creativity is knowing how to hide your sources."
Albert Einstein

[ReD_OcToBeR]

This is proving to be a good read.
One tip, after typing everything and adding pictures, highlight the whole text and hit the center button, it just makes everything look just "so" being lined up and neat.

[SonOfAlexander]

Centered? I prefer just to leave it on left, or justified then. But, if this is the advice of Red_October (who I worship!) then I shall do so on my next post and see how it looks.

[ReD_OcToBeR]

Then if it is your preference then by all means leave it that way lol. I'm just being picky lol.

[SonOfAlexander]

Chapter 9: The hardest thing is being out of things

For Sarah, who defines a friend

They did not stop, but continued to ride until they reached a small wood. They rested the horses there and using some herbal medicine that his mother had taught him and water from a nearby brook he cleaned his and Tullio’s wounds. They found plentiful fruit and berries and they laid a trap. They slept that night, painful but contented beneath the stars. They were still alive. That was something to be thankful for, at least.

They woke up early in the morning to the birdsong. The sun was rising as they ate more fruit. It did not taste so good first thing in the morning. They had caught a rabbit in the trap and with a small fire this was much more satisfying. “Well.” said Caelus “It’s up to us now. What should we- what CAN we do?” he asked Tullio who was surprised to hear him speak. Neither of them had said a word since Caelus had heard the men near the ledge last night. He had to strain to concentrate. They had only slept a few hours seeing as they had spent most of the night running from the Macedonians.

“We need to get back to Apollonia.” said Tullio “Simple as that.” “Ah.” Caelus said. “Do not be so sure. If we get back, then how will we be treated? Our Legion routed, and I disobeyed direct orders as the leader of Cohort VIII. No, we will surely be disbanded from the army, and then ridiculed living as dishonourable beggars in the filthy streets of Italia. No, we cannot return.” Tullio frowned. “But we have an honourable prize - they would forgive us that.” Caelus shook his head. “No, they would merely take it and then act as if we had never had them. I know the way of Roman governors and senators. Sly, misleading bastards.”

Tullio crumpled, looking distraught. Caelus had ideas though. “Do you not realise what this means? We can have a new life, exactly as we want it to be.” “I was happy with my old one, thanks!” shouted Tullio. Caelus gestured to him to calm down. “We have money - or at least will. We are skilled fighters. We know the ways of the Mediterranean land. We could simply start a new life on a farm, or be mercenaries… or anything!” said Caelus, infected with the possibilities.

“I don’t know which of those options to take, friend. But I know one thing they all require.” said Tullio. “Denarii.” said Caelus as Tullio nodded his agreement. “I know exactly where these swords will get the best price too.” Caelus winked as he said this. Tullio asked “Where?” Caelus stretched, took a deep breath, absorbing the nature around him and then said “In Epirus, not too far north of Apollonia, there is a large trading settlement called Salona, the capital of the Epirotes. The docks here are vast and prosperous - we can get the best possible prices for these shields, near their origins and there are so many traders that selling them individually we could get thousands of denarii! We can then continue north, and then go to Germania, the Alps or Dacia - it would be just like home! Just like Allemona! Or we could sail to Syrakusia and then to… anywhere.” Caelus realised that he was out of breath, but the idea had caught him so that he could not stop.

Tullio stared at his friend for a second then said “Well, it’s true that the money would give us the options. Let’s do it.” He grinned and laughed as Caelus smiled too. They saddled up the horses, fed them with some wheat they had stolen before they had arrived, and set off.




[The battle took place at ‘X’. Caelus’ route is highlighted in red and Salona is ringed in red.]

It took them a week to reach Salona, as they were in no hurry. The horses were strong, there was no-one to bother them and no-one was waiting for them. They could steal or catch any food they needed effortlessly and the horses could take their weight easily. They stopped for part of a day in a small village where a pottery merchant lived, about 2 days’ travel east of Salona. He heard from them that Apollonia would soon be under attack from the Macedonians and the small Roman garrison was ‘all hands to the pump’ as they prepared for the siege. A new Legion was being sent over from Italy, before it was quite ready. It would probably defeat the Macedonians, but the shame of the Legio IV would not be soon forgotten, a point not lost even on an Illyrian pottery merchant.

They thanked him and continued. They arrived at Salona 2 days later. The road was easy and it was an idyllic scene, riding into this thriving, cosmopolitan city. Woman walked along with baskets of fruit and fresh linen and chatting excitedly. The sun shone and the ground was dry. A light breeze teased the warm air and ships rolled productively into the harbour, unloading the riches of civilisation.




Children were playing outside on the grass with kites and toy boats in large puddles that seemed like lakes. They played with toy swords and spears of wood. They were the kings of this little world. One boy, fat and unathletic sat on the ground, crying as he wasn’t allowed to play. Elsewhere two more boys ganged up on another whereas another punched one who thought that he was a friend. How much they were already like men, Caelus thought.

It was late in the day and Caelus decided to get a hotel for the night. Tullio answered the door at midnight and a very young woman, with pearl skin was at the door. She whispered in his ear, and looking suddenly refreshed, he winked at Caelus and left. Even this utopian town had a seedy side, but then, thought Caelus, in many ways that made it even more perfect. He came back 3 hours later smelling of women. “She has friends…” he said. Caelus smiled and punched him jovially on the arm.




They got up early as usual and walked through the city, watching shopkeepers open up shutters and sweep streets. They found a breakfast bar and ordered ocella and Iscia Omentata. Caelus had never had these before but thought they were an excellent idea. The meat mixed with spices served between pieces of round bread was cheap, satisfying and practical.




Tullio and Caelus ordered several each. As the day really began they departed again. Politicians pushed by them as they walked into a small shop beside a large stone temple.




The man inside was a shrewd, wrinkled old soul, whose eyes lit up at the site of one of the hoplons. He examined it closely from every angle, checking seals of royal approval and the weight of metals until he could prove it was genuine. He sold it to them for 75 denarii . They were delighted, but this was in fact the lowest price of the day. Depending on the merchant they received from 75 to 110 denarii! By the end of the day they had sold all 78 shields, leaving a grand total of 8034 denarii! [£65,000]. Caelus was all of a sudden feeling very wary. He had been walking to their hotel just as night fell and he heard a few tramps discussing rumours of someone selling a lot of enemy shields and ‘ripping off the traders’ by doing so individually. One of them mentioned that the night-watchmen were going to search the town tonight for this man who clearly had run from somewhere, most likely the battle of which they had just received news.

It was not a comfortable night, but still an easy one. The cart and horses were still extremely inconspicuous, and the Illyrians had copied the Roman idea of only letting trade carts travel through the streets at night. This made leaving the city even easier. Nevertheless, they were almost searched, but got away just before the night-watchmen arrived to take over the gate.

The two then spent an equally fantastic 6 weeks simply riding. Occasionally they would stop off in a village and buy some wares instead of stealing corn from fields. They had everything they could need, and without the shields they could take it in turns to sunbathe on the back of the cart, keep water there, sleep there or even make a cooking fire there on a large, flat stone to make lunch as they went.

Their journey took them out of Illyria and into Transalpine Gaul, skirting around Roman areas. They ended up in the Gallic city of Massilia, who though pro-Roman were still ‘safe’.

[SonOfAlexander]

Just like it says in the text, it's about £65,000 in todays money!

Anyway I hope you like it - the night in the mountains pic took 20 mins to edit on Paint!

I think Red_October was right it doe's look better centered. They shall all be like this from now on.

Hope you like it

[ReD_OcToBeR]

Calming update, keep it up.

And ya it does look much better centered imho.

[Feragorn]

Great update. What year is it in the story? It seems they are sort of anachronistic...

[SonOfAlexander]

Oh yeah... it's now about August / September 244 B.C. I think...

[SonOfAlexander]

Chapter 10: For to stop is to sleep and to sleep!… is to die

Pour ma petite française

Massilia was the biggest city in all of Gaul. It was a walled fortress with docks, warehouses and smiths. It had civilisation and a social air that was created in the breathing of those who lived there, in the prosperity of their lives. It smelt like the sea and the wind. It smelt like success, thought Caelus as the wind caressed his face once more like it had done all those years ago on the farm. He felt the sun on his face and was glad.

Tullio said “Look at those puny wooden walls. They would not stop any determined attacker.” Caelus mentally frowned. Tullio was always more the barbarian. “Yes Tullio, but the important thing is that they HAVE walls.” Caelus said, smiling at him. They both smiled and coaxed the cart down the slope towards the bustling city, which was waiting and ready, ready to swallow and accept them.

They passed through the main gates and paid a small toll. They then received a small chit, a tablet of wood which an expensively armoured warlord’s guard stamped in hot wax. This, he explained meant that they would not have to pay any more tolls that day. Caelus loved the idea and thanked the kind soldier. Tullio stared at all the different shop fronts then said “Well, I could do with a , a woman, a meal and a bath, but not necessarily in that order.” Caelus laughed and slapped his friend on the shoulder.

They spent a near perfect 5 days in Massilia. They had far more money than they needed, but did not flaunt it. Caelus spent time by the sea, and Tullio would often spend hours at a time talking to Maria, a woman he had met early in the morning on the first day they were there. She was a shopkeeper who sold pots and had recently become a very young widow, somehow through her cunning getting the inheritance that would otherwise have gone to the warlord (she had no son).

On the 5th day though, Caelus was prepared and ready, and began to pack his travelling possessions. Tullio said that he had to see Maria once more before they prepared and Caelus was surprised at his urgency. Nevertheless, he got their things ready and 2 hours later Tullio returned, looking refreshed. The two then walked to the outskirts of the town, where they found a seedy but agreeable more rural area of town. Caelus knew that this was the sort of place to find what he wanted. He saw a discreet weapons store and walked in.




The man inside looked up as a bell over the door alerted him to their presence. He shook their hands and introduced himself warmly as Maroboduus, son of Egil. “Hello, friends. Welcome to my humble store. What can I help you with ?” “Show us what you have.” said Caelus. Maroboduus hesitated. “Everything. Your whole works.”

“Well.” he started and led Caelus over to the far right side of a large wall mounted set of shelves and racks, with various weapons arranged on them. He spoke and paused every now and then, then began moving to the left again. “This is one of my Falxs. 8 Denarii. I have friend in Dacia who makes these for a very low price.”




He smiled and thumbed his nose. “Here, one of my Xiphos. These are 4 Denarii and 5 ass each. A secret smith I know makes these. A sweeter hand never touched the metal.”




He pointed at a long pike running the whole length of the shop floor. “A Sarissa. We haven’t got many of these, but they’re excellent. Made of birch, and will kill anything that gets in the way. 9 Denarii. Our Greek spears; I sell shafts for 3 denarii and either rounded Dory or double Xyston spearheads for 1 to 2 Denarii. Now our Roman weapons. A Gladius, straight from the foundries of Iberia. 5 denarii. Expensive for it’s size, but durable.”




He then took a small cylindrical quiver, but much larger than normal and made of strips of wood on a woven framework. “Pila. They come in sets of 5, for 4 Denarii. A set of 10 costs 7 and 20 will lighten you pockets to the tune of 13 Denarii.” Maroboduus placed them back with the rest of the spears, then he then pointed at a small rack at the end, illuminated by a ray of sunlight from a window.




“Our fine selection of daggers. From the Roman Pugios to animal gutters, or silent blades or curved blades…” Tullio selected a fine long sword, a two handed sword with cloth wrapped around the first foot or so of the long, shining blade. “Ah yes, I made that one myself. You would be honoured with that weapon sir. I’m sure that such a man as yourself could pay the 30 denarii for it.” He smiled. “I call it Braveheart… Ah! Excellent. Thank You.” He said as Tullio handed over the money and took the huge piece of shining, deadly sharp steel.




Caelus picked up a long sword that was 2 or 3 feet long but which had a thin blade, only 2 inches wide. It was also very thin, but Caelus could tell with a few experimental swings that it was extremely strong. “Excellent choice, sir. A Germanic design that. Here…” Maroboduus said, barely moving the blade but easily hacking into a dummy in the shop corner. “9 Denarii and 3 ass, sir.” said the kindly merchant as Caelus examined the spotless hand guard on the sword. He loved it. “What would you call it, sir? All swords should have a name, it makes them greater.” Maroboduus said, smiling. “…Ironsides…” said Caelus. “An excellent choice, sir.” “Yes, my father’s sword.” said Caelus. His father’s sword was currently hanging on the wall of some Warlord’s wall in Mediolanum, as an ornament of tyranny.



“We have many missiles sir, if you are an archer yourself.” He opened a cabinet containing many bows and sets of arrows “I fletch all the arrows myself. I’ll sell you 20 for 10 Denarii or 40 for 18. I have ash, elm and hazel bows. I specialise in longbows thanks to my suppliers but I also have some eastern compound bows. Made of sinew and horn, incredibly powerful! And compact - yours for 8 denarii.”
Caelus bought an ash longbow and 20 arrows. They were beautiful, with black and white feathers and perfect arrowheads.

“So what do you have in the way of shields?” asked Caelus. Maroboduus smiled before continuing. “Yes. I have Scutums… 11 Denarii, expensive but will last a lifetime and has fantastic protection… Hoplons, extremely light and only 5 Denarii. I’ll paint on a design of your choice for 1 Denarii and 1 ass.” “We do traditional shields too. Round. 15 different patterns, and again I’ll paint a new one for the same price. Either small or large. I’d recommend using large on horseback or it’ll get in the way. Those are 3 and 6 Denarii respectively. I also make these ‘Man with a budget’ shields.”




He pointed at 3 shields. “This first one is made from lime wood. It’s glued together around a wooden boss. Very simple and light, 2 Denarii for 3. Very weak though, could only deflect some swords blows.” He pointed at a beige coloured shield. “This one is the same as before, but covered in cowhide to give it flexibility. 2 Denarii, but reasonably strong and still very light. AN this final one is a lenticular shield. Slightly conical, made from a single sheet of glued strips of wood, costs 4 denarii, but is quite light and extremely strong. Battleaxes have been known to bounce off these. Will wear out after a few years however.”

Caelus bought a large hoplon, and had the man paint on a ‘lambda’ (‘Λ’) in red on a white background. He also paid Maroboduus to paint the boss gold and trim the edges with neat tanned leather painted white and black, remembering how Decimus had split one man’s. He also bought a small, curved, wickedly sharp dagger in a carved bone scabbard and a dory style spear. Caelus turned to ask Tullio about what he would purchase as he was trying on the new weaponry.




Tullio was buying the Sarissa and a Corinthian Helmet with a Black and Red plume. Caelus went over to him. “Why the hell are you buying those? You’ve never held a Sarissa in your life!” Tullio stared at Caelus then explained. “I thought it would look nice on my wall.” He watched Caelus’ bemused face then continued. “I’ve decided to stay here in Massilia. I went out earlier… I was getting married to Maria in a secret ceremony. She has a house and we shall soon have children. I’ve always said the hardest thing is being out of things. All I’ve ever wanted is a farm, family and business, nothing more. Not a life of war. You know that.”

Caelus nodded slowly and sagely then turned, taking a Conical helmet with nose plate from the shelves. He bought a cheap, anonymous Corinthian helmet too and purchased a red tail and a neck guard for his other one. Tullio turned to him. “I wish you all the best in your new life, friend. You can truly start over again, as will I. Bring me news of Decimus if you can find any.” said Caelus. “I will send messages to you of everything I know. And where will you go, Caelus?” said Tullio

“The same place as you, Decimus and eventually everyone will go. Hell.”