bodies of the bound slaves. Huge cuts across their throats had killed the pair. Their blood soaked into the sands of the desert. The legionnaires had gathered around the bodies quietly after they were discovered. “When the bastard is discovered who put pugio to throat of our remaining slaves, they will feel the sting of the whip,” Lucius seethed. “This makes our mission even harder. Does the miscreant wish to confess now, or wait until the mystery is discovered?”
The eight legionnaires stood silently. Eyes shifted warily from soldier to soldier. “All right then,” Augustinus said. “Primus awaits shipment of clean water. Let’s get moving and see to tasks.”
“Shame these vanished primitives had not engineered aqueducts instead of towering tombs,” Hortensius said quietly.
The legionnaires buried the Egyptians in an unmarked grave on the east side of the ruined village. While two soldiers prepared jentaculum, the rest over-loaded the camels with clean water drawn from the well. The work was done and the first meal taken in silence while the Romans cast doubtful glances at one another. By mid-morning, the caravan once again forged westward to the outpost of the long forgotten city across burnt sands.
By early afternoon the legionnaires were within sight of the ancient ruins. Upon Lucius’ approached all seemed normal at first glance. As they marched closer he realized no legionnaires could be seen, nor could any camels be spotted. His sweaty hand touched the pommel of his gladius and he pulled the blade from its sheath. “Something is wrong,” he said.
“We should see our brothers by now,” Augustinus said. The rest of the legionnaires drew their swords. Two stayed with the camels and the supplies of water. The others advanced on the tents. The soldiers split into two groups. Lucius went with Hortensius and another up the small steps of the outpost. The other four skirted east around the structures.
From the top of the cyclopean stone buildings, Lucius could see down into the partially excavated courtyard. Several bodies of legionnaires were scattered on the sands in front of the trapped triangular stone marker that had killed two legionnaires the day earlier. Dark stains marked the grit where they had bled out. “Jupiter help us,” Lucius whispered. He then led his two comrades down the misshapen stairs to the pit where the bodies lay. Once inside the courtyard, an open space where once a stone wall had stood indicated Vitus and his men had found an egress into the forgotten ruins.
“Lucius, look at this,” Augustinus said quietly. He held up a shiny shiv of silver metal pulled from the neck of a dead Egyptian. Lucius reached out and took the slim blade in his fingers.
“Craftsmanship unknown to me,” Lucius whispered. The thin blade was half again as long as a man’s fist. It was weighted heavy on the blade end with a tiny thin handle too small to wield in hand-to-hand combat. “It is similar to plumbatae. It appears to be the method of destruction of these men.”
“The combatants threw these darts at our comrades like we throw plumbatae before pressing flesh with swords. They are not dissimilar in size and weight,” Augustinus said angrily. “This metal is unknown. Not Berber.”
“Tracks lead from the opening in the wall to this pit where our comrades met their end,” Hortensius said and pointed to the sand. “These marks indicate where bodies were dragged.”
Lucius turned and noticed another scarlet smear on the stone door jamb. It was smaller than a man’s hand: child sized, but the four fingers were fatter and shorter than they should have been. It was clearly a bloody handprint, left by an unknown fiend. Maybe some misshapen dwarf’s hand or a devil. He scratched at the dried smear: the blood flaked and fell. “This happened some time ago. Maybe during the night or early this morning,” he said, and then looked into the darkness. “Answers to any riddles are inside
The eight legionnaires stood silently. Eyes shifted warily from soldier to soldier. “All right then,” Augustinus said. “Primus awaits shipment of clean water. Let’s get moving and see to tasks.”
“Shame these vanished primitives had not engineered aqueducts instead of towering tombs,” Hortensius said quietly.
The legionnaires buried the Egyptians in an unmarked grave on the east side of the ruined village. While two soldiers prepared jentaculum, the rest over-loaded the camels with clean water drawn from the well. The work was done and the first meal taken in silence while the Romans cast doubtful glances at one another. By mid-morning, the caravan once again forged westward to the outpost of the long forgotten city across burnt sands.
By early afternoon the legionnaires were within sight of the ancient ruins. Upon Lucius’ approached all seemed normal at first glance. As they marched closer he realized no legionnaires could be seen, nor could any camels be spotted. His sweaty hand touched the pommel of his gladius and he pulled the blade from its sheath. “Something is wrong,” he said.
“We should see our brothers by now,” Augustinus said. The rest of the legionnaires drew their swords. Two stayed with the camels and the supplies of water. The others advanced on the tents. The soldiers split into two groups. Lucius went with Hortensius and another up the small steps of the outpost. The other four skirted east around the structures.
From the top of the cyclopean stone buildings, Lucius could see down into the partially excavated courtyard. Several bodies of legionnaires were scattered on the sands in front of the trapped triangular stone marker that had killed two legionnaires the day earlier. Dark stains marked the grit where they had bled out. “Jupiter help us,” Lucius whispered. He then led his two comrades down the misshapen stairs to the pit where the bodies lay. Once inside the courtyard, an open space where once a stone wall had stood indicated Vitus and his men had found an egress into the forgotten ruins.
“Lucius, look at this,” Augustinus said quietly. He held up a shiny shiv of silver metal pulled from the neck of a dead Egyptian. Lucius reached out and took the slim blade in his fingers.
“Craftsmanship unknown to me,” Lucius whispered. The thin blade was half again as long as a man’s fist. It was weighted heavy on the blade end with a tiny thin handle too small to wield in hand-to-hand combat. “It is similar to plumbatae. It appears to be the method of destruction of these men.”
“The combatants threw these darts at our comrades like we throw plumbatae before pressing flesh with swords. They are not dissimilar in size and weight,” Augustinus said angrily. “This metal is unknown. Not Berber.”
“Tracks lead from the opening in the wall to this pit where our comrades met their end,” Hortensius said and pointed to the sand. “These marks indicate where bodies were dragged.”
Lucius turned and noticed another scarlet smear on the stone door jamb. It was smaller than a man’s hand: child sized, but the four fingers were fatter and shorter than they should have been. It was clearly a bloody handprint, left by an unknown fiend. Maybe some misshapen dwarf’s hand or a devil. He scratched at the dried smear: the blood flaked and fell. “This happened some time ago. Maybe during the night or early this morning,” he said, and then looked into the darkness. “Answers to any riddles are inside
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