Blinking in the sunlight after three weeks locked in a cell with a dozen other men,

Sylud saw that he was in a large courtyard, the walls of Caer Coranan looming all

around him. The man behind him stumbled as he stepped out of the doorway, almost

bringing Sylud down with him. He in turn stumbled into the man in front who turned

around and spat, “Watch yerself.”

“Sorry friend”, Sylud said, “it’s these damn’d chains. I can ‘ardly walk.” Like an

ungainly centipede the prisoners made their way into the great bailey of Caer

Coranan. Sylud could see that there were already several dozen or more lads lined up

in ranks and it was towards these men that the prisoners were directed. Their chains

were removed and uniformed legionnaires wielding batons harried them into the

ranks. One man resisted and was set upon and beaten until he was bruised and

bleeding.

“Welcome to the army of the Republic”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“Sweet Peoni, I’m knackered”, Sylud fell onto his bunk. His legs and lungs ached

from the exertions of the days training. “Yeah” Grunth replied from the bunk beneath

him. “Won’t need no stinkin’ barbarians to kill us. Those bastard’s out there’ll do

us in afore we be seein’ any fightin.” Sylud rolled over and thought to himself, not

that I want to actually see any. Sylud looked at the other recruits in his barracks

room and sort of half smiled. Bunch o’ bumpkins, th’lot of them. Wouldn’t last ten

minutes doin’ the business in Kotros.

He had been put in a squad with three other men. One, Lothar was a lad from

Imrium, not that Sylud had ever heard of the place before. He was as tall as Sylud

and could have been his twin brother. Both had white hair and were of a similar

build. He was a fanatic, always polishing his weapons and armour, even when they

were already the cleanest in the whole company. He had bragged that he had been in

a fight with gargun once, but Sylud didn’t believe him.

The other two were also like peas on a pod. Nico and Grunth were both short and

broad, and if he had found them wandering the streets of Coranan, Sylud would have

reckoned they would have made fine enforcers. Nico could read and write, and was

assigned the duties of company quartermaster. Grunth had a brawler’s face. He was

mean and Sylud figured that getting him on side would be a good thing. Never hurt to

have a stout lad watching your back. They were all volunteers, hoping for fame and

fortune in the legions, or at least a patch of land at the end of twenty years.

“Twenty years and then you want to go back t’farming?” Sylud had asked

incredulously one evening. “Yep, and it will be my own land,” Lothar said. “So

what? Yer will still be staring at a cow’s arse all day.” Sylud had said.

Sylud climbed off his bunk and began to clean the equipment he had dropped on the

floor when he had staggered into the barracks. He had quickly learnt that the

instructors found every piece of dirt or fleck of rust, and it saved a clout around the

ear if you got it cleaned before inspection. Still, at least the food was plentiful and

filling, if somewhat blander than he was used to. Gods in Yashain, what I wouldn’t

do for one of those spiced tarts from Geril’s bakery. For a while he was lost in

reverie, wondering what his friends Willem and Jorge, and all the other lads were

doing. Probably sitting around drinking a pot of ale and counting up the days

takings.

“Shit! I hafta do somethin’ I’m good at. I’m so bloody bored w’all this marchin’ and

runnin’ around,” Sylud suddenly exclaimed. To the rest of the barracks he called out

“c’mon lads! Who feels like winnin’ some money off’n me?” He grabbed three cups

and a stone from the floor. “simple game, simple nuff even for you bumpkins”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The days went by and Sylud found that the rigours of the training were getting a little

easier to bear, but only a little bit. He had found a good little niche in the company

and was resolved to make the best of the situation he found himself in. No point

being miserable and poor just because he was a legionnaire. His gambling school was

quite profitable, and he had accumulated a tidy sum after only a few weeks. He had

got Grunth in as a back-up man, in case anyone got threatening. Sylud ran a fair

game but you never knew with some people.

“Ere, you cheated me. I want me money back!” said Coran, one of the regular

players in Sylud’s shell game. He was an idiot, even dumber than Grunth , and Sylud

didn’t have to cheat to take his money. “You lost it fair and square, an’ I ain’t givin’

it back.” Sylud said quietly.

“Yes you will, you bastard,” Coran stepped forward menacingly. Sylud backed away

and motioned to Grunth who stepped forward. Coran took an almighty swing at him

that connected with Grunth’s face, but the punch barely rocked the squat brawler.

Grunth hit him back, a bone-jarring punch that sent Coran flying backwards onto the

floor. Another cadet leaned over Coran’s prostrate form and looked up, in some fear.

“E’s out cold. Looks like you near killed him.” “Nah. I never hit him that ‘ard.” said

Grunth, flexing his massive fist, “B‘sides, ‘E hit me first.” Sylud examined Coran

and could see that he had been hurt bad. “Shit! “Elp me get ‘im into his bunk. E’s

just knocked out. ‘E’ll be alright soon enuff. Just a broken nose, is al,” Sylud said

reassuringly, then as Coran gurgled unpleasantly he looked around in panic “Does

anyone ‘ere know any doctoring? What about you Grunth?“ “I know ‘ow to fix

‘orses a bit,” Grunth replied. “Well see wot yer can do fer ‘im then,” Sylud said.

“But ‘e ain’t a ‘orse, Sylud,” Grunth said, in a confused sort of way. “Oh

shit..Grunth, I think we are in trouble ‘ere.”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“…then ‘e tripped over an’ must’ve banged ‘is ‘ead,” Sylud said. The Captain had

paraded the entire company wanting to know what had happened. Sylud and Grunth

had called the guards the night before when it was obvious that their ministrations

were having little effect on Coran. The unfortunate was carried away to have a

physician examine him, but the company had learned that he had expired during the

night.

“..That’s right..it ‘appened as Sylud said, Sir” Grunth added. They had concocted a

story the night before, knowing that they would be questioned. There were a dozen

witnesses who had seen Coran throw the first punch, but Sylud knew that the

authorities, civil or military, would never believe the likes of them. Keeping his head

facing forward, Sylud watched the rest of the company out of the corners of his eyes

as much as he could. He saw one of the other cadets, a pasty faced lad by the name of

Lerkin, discreetly shake his head in the negative. Sylud also saw that Sergeant Gelak

had noticed the movement. The parade was dismissed and the legionnaire cadets

returned to barracks. The first thing Sylud did was corner Lerkin in the privy.

“Listen. You saw wot ‘appened. That stupid cuss Coran threw a fist an’ got out-

punched. Must’ve ‘ad a weak head or somethin’ like that.” “I know what I saw,”

replied Lerkin. “I know yer did. I don’t want no trouble over this, understand? Keep

it to yerself” demanded Sylud. “Alright, but just leave me alone and stay away from

me, you and that bloody Grunth both.” replied the stony faced Lerkin. Sylud spat on

his hand and held it out to Lerkin who reluctantly did the same, sealing their

agreement. “Got ‘im,” said Sylud to himself as Lerkin walked away.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“Hey look, we got cheese,” one of the cadets said in surprise at that evening’s meal.

“Aye, ‘an there is more’n just gristle in this pottage,” said another. “Alright lads?”

Sylud enquired. “Enjoy yer dinner.” It had cost Sylud half the money he had won,

but he had bribed the cook to give their company some extra’s every now and then for

a little while. Sylud was careful he made sure everyone knew who had arranged it.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“Ow, me feet are killing me,” said Sylud. They had been marching for the best part

of a day under full kit. Captain Ostardas had ordered them to parade with three days

rations and informed them that they were going on a training march. “Now I know

why they call us mules.” groaned Sylud. Each man carried, in addition to their

armour and weapons, a rucksack containing their food, clothes and personal items and

a large sharpened stake.

The company marched out of Coranan and turned northward. Marching through

small villages and seeing the youngsters watching them, Sylud remembered back to

when, as a boy he had often wondered where those legionnaires were going. Still

don’t know, he thought to himself.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Day after day the company cut their way through virgin forest, four men at a time

hacking and slashing their way forward until relieved by those resting behind. Each

night they used their stakes to mark out a small perimeter that they filled in with brush

and dead wood to make a flimsy barrier.

“Sergeant, Wot is this little fence s’posed t’ stop,” He asked on the first night, “it

wouldn’t keep my sister’s pet lamb out.” “Not meant to, lad,” said Sergeant Gelak, a

veteran of the Ramala Legion. “It’s meant to slow an attacker down, give you time to

stand-to.” “Not much point t’ that then, Sergeant,” Sylud said petulantly, “I still

don’t hardly know which way to point me sword.” “Shut up the lip an’ put yer back

into it, lad,” the Sergeant grinned. “Plenty o’ time fer that. Yers got me fer another

six months yet”

Sylud spent each night in a state of extreme terror, seeing wild tribesmen and gargun

in every shadow. He almost ran his relief through the first night when he was relieved

of guard duty. They were told not to sleep on guard duty, or else they would suffer

field punishment – flogging. Not much bloody chance of me sleeping, Sylud thought

as he huddled under his blanket.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“One man missing, Sir,” the Sergeant reported to Captain Ostardas after the morning

‘stand to’. “E’s Gone with all his gear Sir.” “Run has he? Oh well, we normally

get one by this stage” the Captain looked more inconvenienced than annoyed. He

pointed to Senior Legionnaire Polus and said “take one squad and find him. Hang

him when you catch him and then return to the company.”

So Sylud and his squad were left to tramp off through the trees. They slept in

makeshift bivouacs that Polus taught them how to make, and followed the trail left by

the fleeing cadet. Two days after they had left the company they found where the

fugitive had slept. He had discarded more of his gear, obviously tiring and lightening

his load. Polus said it wouldn’t be too long before they caught up with him. “Stupid

bugger is going in circles now. Like a lost lamb” he had said.

A piercing shriek echoed around the small vale they had found themselves in. “At the

double, get moving” Polus ordered and they ran towards where they had heard the

scream. They rounded a small knoll and found the cause of the commotion. Standing

over the torn body of the deserter was a huge bear. Sylud had seen a few bears

before, dancing merrily to the beat of a drum, a ring through their nose and ribbons

decorating their fur. This was not one of those docile bears. It reared up, nearly twice

as tall as Sylud, it’s claws and muzzle caked in wet blood. It roared and shook it’s

head from side to side, and then charged forward.

Sylud and the others screamed. Nico and Grunth turned and fled. Polus shouted for

them to run for their lives and Sylud turned and ran after his comrades. In mid flight

he looked over his shoulder and saw Lothar standing his ground, fending off the bear

with his spear and shield. Polus was lying on the ground, bowled over by the rush of

the bear. Sylud felt his leggings become wet and warm as his bladder emptied in fear.

But he gripped his spear and charged back to Lothar’s side, thrusting up at the giant

beast, not even sure if he was hitting it or not, screaming in fear and trepidation.

Before he knew it the bear turned and ran off, roaring and crashing through the trees.

The tips of both his and Lothar’s spears were coated in blood. Sylud looked down at

Polus and vomited up his morning meal. The Senior Legionnaire was dead, his

stomach torn open by the rampaging bruin.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

They buried the bodies of Polus and Tek in a shallow grave and piled rocks and

branches atop it to deter wild animals. The dead men’s equipment was piled onto a

makeshift stretcher - two spears with a blanket slung between them – and they began

the long march back in what they hoped was the right direction.

“Are yer sure this is the way?” Nico asked. “Ow the fuck do I know,” said Sylud.

“ask Lothar, ‘E’s th’ expert.” Sylud was tired and cold. It had started to rain and

they were all soaked to the skin. They stopped and constructed their shelters, trying

their best to remember how Polus had done it. “We should stand to, like we were with

the rest of the company,” Lothar had said, Nico nodding in agreement. Sylud had

sworn and cursed but took his place alongside them all the same.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Sylud was dreaming of a huge black bear, looming over him, tearing at him and

devouring him as he lay helpless before it. He woke with a start and only heard the

sound of the falling rain. He sank back down, realizing it was only a dream.

“BEEEAAARRRR!!!!!” Nico’s scream made him sit up again. He blinked to see

Nico pointing to the trees then heard the beast growl and crash into the campsite.

Grabbing his spear he blindly thrust at it, screaming at it, feeling his blade strike

resistance…

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“I stabbed it, and so did Lothar I’m sure,” Sylud said. He was still shaking. They

could hear the bear growling, prowling around in the darkness. He added “It is a

demon, not an animal”

None of the cadets got any sleep. Knowing that the bear was still following them kept

them in a state of extreme agitation. When the sun rose, they stood to with no

complaints from Sylud. “We have to find a defensive position,” said Lothar.

“Somewhere were we can protect our backs,” added Nico.

They marched quickly, always hearing the sound of the bear prowling in the forest

behind them. Eventually they found a small bank, and began to argue the merits of

making a stand there. Their debate was hardly started when Nico pointed behind

them. The bear had emerged from the trees and rearing up to its full height, roared

and charged. Nico ran, the others stood their ground. The bear veered off towards the

fleeing Nico. Sylud, Lothar and Grunth charged towards it, trying to stab at its flank.

The bear turned on them and crouching behind their shields they thrust again and

again at it’s huge body…

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Sylud sat looking at his shield. It had been almost rent in two, and there were huge

gouges in the wood where the bear’s claws had raked it. He was still shaking. The

bear lay dead, finally falling to the gods only knew how many spear thrusts.

I am not cut out for this life, he said to himself.

Next Story.