The Undefeated

[Lee_Underwood]

The last thing Vorenas did before he retired was to threaten Petrac the Fat. “If you sleep," he said, "the Gods will crush you underfoot.” The seven young men took it in turns to stand guard all night, a different one per night.

Petrac nodded and yawned leaning upon his spear, which bent dangerously under his weight.

Vorenas lay down by the fire with Jesiminus. “Do you truly think he’ll last the night?” asked Jesi. Vorenas eyed Petrac appraisingly before huddling against the slimmer Jesiminus. “We have all done our duty, whilst he slept and snored like a pig,” decided Vorenas. “It’s his turn tonight. Herak descended from the sky would give him a lesser beating than I, should I catch him with eyes closed.”

Beyond the flickering embers, Thesse and Kes, the former older than he, the latter younger, but wise beyond years. They slept, as they always did, front to front whilst keeping their red-cloaked backs to the wolf-wind that blew from the north. Only their sandalled feet protruded from the bottom of the snug tube of red scarlet they formed.

Petrac harumphed, drawing his own cloak close. He paced the camp by the light of the crackling fire and the brilliant stars overhead. Not a cloud could be seen in the sky, meaning it would be especially wintry tonight.

“Must you pace so close!” complained Mathes, whose real name no-one used since he was gored while hunting. To this very day, the healed wound clung to his right cheek like a scarlet leech.

Below Vorenas’s feet, Buel stirred from sleeping also.

"Fine!" spat Petrac. "May your dreams be pleasant ones, before your sentry freezes to death and wolves rip out your throats while you enjoy them."

But despite Petrac’s bellyaching, the long vanished day had been a good one. First thing the troop did from waking was steal a large goats cheese from the market trader in the town square. Then the poaching of the lamb from the foothill shepherds. Less successful was the fishing, sculling the cool lake-bed with their precious red cloaks, the only gift that the unproven of Spartan society were allowed for their survival. They’d sculled until the light was a mere memory and caught nothing. And so with but a little meat and cheese - not much when shared between eight - they’d been tempted back to the market again. But the results were disastrous.

 

[Lee_Underwood]

Picking a Mark

The sun shone weakly on the market stalls at the Plaza of the Mounts. Occasionally, a mighty wind would blast out of the north to kick sand into the eyes of the shoppers and the sellers.

Good. Good. Vorenas eyed the stalls hungrily. All he needed was one strong gust and he would make his move.

Olives from the eastern groves were heaped high as the tallest man. Bright yellow apricots, green sour apples, hard and soft cheeses, cuts of meat, glistening goat offal, the colours and the smells made the troop leader's mouth water.

"Him. Over there," said Mathes, inclining toward a stand groaning under the weight of peaches as pink as a spanked backside, and manned by a round, sunburnt man who was beating a young teenager that looked like his son. "Even carrying a cloak full of fruit, he'll not catch me. We'll steal enough for all in just one strike."

"Rebejon rewards the daring, but the overambitious often go hungry," chastised Vorenas. "Think. It'll be winter soon. That means we need the fat. What little nourishment gained from peaches pales in comparison to a meal of roast goat or a good, thick, cheese."

He shifted his left foot, numb from Petrac's weight. The whole troop, all eight of them, were laid uncomfortably on top of each other, a splintering wooden drinking trough barely hiding them as they looked at the market outskirts, a heartbeat's sprint away.

"To the right of the peaches, underneath the awning, there's a surprise waiting for you..."

Mathes looked and sure enough, sitting in the shadows was the fat peach seller's other son, bigger than even his father. There was one difference, however. His bulk was composed of muscle. He was the the biggest Spartan Vorenas had ever seen.

"Not even Petrac could sit on that one."

Thesse, Kes, Jesiminus and Buel sniggered.

"All this talk makes my empty belly ache," sulked Petrac. "Are we to sit here like ants dying in the sun until we dry up and blow away?"

"It'll take more than a dry sun to blow a porker like you away," shot Vorenas. Petrac had been challenging him a lot recently.

"Alright. This is what we do," he decided.

 

[Bodhi1]

Good beginning ...

I don't "get" why they are reduced to stealing food ... I am looking forward to the explanations & the intriguing plot ...

 

[Lee_Underwood]

Hit and Run

“Thesse, Kes, Jesi, gather as many rocks as you can, quick. Petrac and I will make noise…The rest of you take your chance at the height of it…”

The smallest of the troop, silent till now, suddenly spoke.

“I want to go with you, Vori,” Garial bridled. “I’m near as strong as Petrac, and a good deal swifter, equal to almost any fighter here.”

“Ooo,” Petrac mockingly sung, “Gari wants to follow his beloved…perhaps a show of foreplay might serve as a better distract…”

At that moment, an enormous yellow cloud of dust whipped up and swallowed the Plaza of the Mounts.

“Shush, now,” their leader spoke, slapping Garial’s shoulder. “Just for that, you gather rocks also. Scarlet, see to it he does as I say.”

Mathes stroked the red scar on his face, nodding.

On Vorenas’s word, the troop spread out like a wave.

Petrac stamped from rock to rock with Vorenas seeming to dance along in front. They covered the considerable distance without anyone seeing them.

“Unproven!” “Unproven!”, the cry finally rang out. “They are here!”

“Go away, Uproven Dog!” spat the fat Peach seller, a long wooden cane appearing magically in his hand, “I’ve killed bigger litter runts than you!”

Petrac grabbing handfuls of the pink fruit, stuffed all he could in his mouth.

“I’m honoured a litter runt as I, might warrant such alarm,” Vorenas retorted, nimbly side-stepping a rain of blows from the cane. “You might wet yourself if I were a bigger pig.”

“BULIUS!” shouted the peach seller. “BULIUS!”

From a pavilion behind the market stall, Bulius appeared. Twice as tall as the troop leader, taller than even Vorenas had suspected from a distance, he was upon the two young men in a blink.

“Herak defend me!” quailed Petrac. Half eaten peaches smashed into the dirt as he ran away.

Vorenus stood his ground.

 

[DonQuixote]

Lee,
This is a refreshing change of venue. Unproven - legionaires left to their own devices?

Rogue outlaws sort of - they have to steal to eat?

We've landed in the middle of their situation, with a 3rd person limited perspective -- we can only see what the narrator shares.

I look forward to future chapters, and hopefully a flashback to help us understand the landscape a little better.

Thanks for your efforts. It's been an interesting trip, so far.

 

[Lee_Underwood]

Crime and Punishment

“Have you come to abduct me?” Vorenas teased. “Perhaps spirit me away to your bedchamber?”

Bulius smiled as an unconcerned child smiles at a tiny butterfly, barely aware of the choking dust and panicking people. Quickly, oh so quickly, he feinted a fast strike left, then lunged right, agile beyond his size.

“…and now a courtship dance. Such a pleasant welcome for one who only came to steal your food.”

His heart skipped at the lie of his nonchalance. That mighty hand had missed by only a finger…Vorenas jogged from foot to foot.

“This world and everything in it is yours, Bulius my son,” goaded the Peach seller, “if you can take what you want and, more importantly, keep it from others.”

Bulius bore down. Good. Vorenas retreated as fast his legs could carry him, deeper into the plaza.

“Come back, come back,” came the seller’s mocking voice, “how can you have lost your appetite already?”

In the commotion nobody would notice their sneakiest man, Buel, steal an unguarded ham here, a jug of beer there. Vorenas only hoped today’s haul would be enough to satisfy the appetites of eight growing, and increasingly hungry young men.

Noise. He had to have more noise.

Vorenas struck wine bottles to the ground, slicking the ground with sweet liquid, burst cage after cage, scattering hens everywhere, kicked baskets of bread and cakes.

He hadn’t had this much fun since, on a raid, he’d lured a bull into the barrack’s mess.

“Got you…”

Vorenas felt his shoulders squeezed painfully, stopping him dead.

Bulius wrenched him round. “No-one ever got away from Bulius,” boomed the giant.

“Alright, alright,” gasped the young man. “I surrender.”

“You know you will be scourged for this, don’t you, my little Unproven ferret.”

“The choice between a slow, inevitable death or maybe a painful licking, is no choice at all.”

Spartan law whipped those who were caught stealing not because of their thieving, but because of their failure. Meagre rationing even encouraged this. Thus were Spartan men trained how not to go hungry, in the lean times of war.

“I know my fate,” said Vorenas, all the fight gone. Sometimes, the administered flogging was so severe, it was fatal.

 

[DonQuixote]

A short exchange, but some important education for us on the rules of the day.

A good exchange between the opponents.

I suspect the crafting of this tale will be an intriguing one.

Thanks for sharing your efforts with us.