In 122 AD, Emperor Hadrian of Rome ordered
the construction of a wall that extended from the Solway
Firth to the mouth of the Tyne River. The reason for its
creation was to protect Rome’s northern boundary
against hostile Pict tribes. A young soldier named Nero-Pertinax
had been sent as one of the five men to an outpost, a
day’s walk from the wall.
* * *
“A lot better than being posted
in the front lines at that damned wall, hey Pertinax?”
asked Antoninus.
“Well, I guess so, but I would’ve
liked to fight instead of being a lookout,” Pertinax
replied.
“I think your father will be happier
to have you come back…”
“…Or, he could be disappointed
because I’m a coward.”
“If you ladies don’t want
to be left behind, than you better keep up!” ordered
the perpetually irate captain Desidian.
“Captain Desidian, I see a rider
approaching at our rear, should we halt?” Romulus-Recimir,
the hired hand, questioned.
“Yes! Very intuitive, Romulus,
you might make a soldier’s rank by the end of our
posting…” Pertinax held in his anger; Desidian
treated Romulus as if he were only a child. Romulus was
no more than seventeen, but he acted as though he was
thirty. He was also not born of Roman decent. Romulus
changed his name when he asked for work during the construction
of the wall. The rider was the fifth man of the group,
Gailus, the smallest, but with the biggest heart.
“Captain Desidian, Emperor Hadrian
has ordered the Northern army at the wall to execute standard
defensive measures. Commander Domitian has given us use
of four extra horses to ensure our arrival at the outpost
is earlier than planned.”
“Well now, he does care about
us! …Pack our supplies on to the last horse, and
let’s get the hell out of here!” yelled Captain
Desidian as he began to trot off ahead of the group.
“He’s so nice, isn’t
he?” said Antoninus sarcastically. The supplies
were packed, and with a smile of laughter and worry for
what lay ahead of them, the men mounted their horses and
cantered down the freshly built cobblestone road.
* * *
Upon the arrival at the outpost, Antoninus
spotted six or seven fleeing Picts with swords and shields
brandished high in the air. Gailus was the first to comprehend
what had taken place. He ran into the three-story tower
to find Desidian. Pertinax flawlessly tossed a sword,
handle first, to Romulus,
“Go to the shed, and report back
any inventory that has been stolen. The list should be
posted on the wall.”
“Right!” He retorted, “What
is this for?”
“What do you think, boy? If you
see a Pict, kill him! That’s what we’re here
for!”
With that said, Romulus ran to the shed,
grasping the sword like it was his only hope to live.
Pertinax sunk back into his fear and timidly unsheathed
his blade. Antoninus followed parallel to his flank, trying
to imitate a smaller version of the “Turtle.”
Gailus began shouting from inside. Pertinax and Antoninus
scuttled to the entrance.
Being a soldier now lost its meaning.
No longer was it a job; it was their niche, their reason
for existence, not because they saw the Picts, but because
they heard a friend in danger and possibly lost their
leader and mentor.
By the time they reached the second
level, the grunts and yelling became more distinct. It
was deeper than Gailus’ speech, a lot deeper. Pertinax
charged into the first room of the hallway, dimly lit
only by the setting sun. He moved his sword around like
an extension of his arm; he was caught off guard by a
blunt fist in the jaw.
* * *
Pertinax awoke on a dusty straw bed.
Romulus was sitting in a chair beside the bed. “How
long have I been out?”
“Long enough for me to get here.”
“Gailus and Desidian? Where are
they?” Pertinax sputtered.
“I’m suitable, well aside
from this crazy wench!” Gailus said, pointing to
a small woman tied up in the darkest corner of the room.
“She knocked Desidian out with a pot. I was screaming
because she startled me.”
“What about the deeper grunts?”
“Desidian threw a Pict out the
window, but he got cut in the arm pretty badly. He’s
on his way back to the wall with Antoninus.”
Pertinax sat up and looked at their
captive. “Romulus, tell her to look at me.”
Romulus was the only one who could speak
Pict. Although there were many different dialects of Pict,
Romulus knew some of the basics. The women looked at him
with revulsion in her eyes. Pertinax stood up to try to
regain his balance, only to fall at her feet. He tried
to get up, but he couldn’t. As Romulus helped him
up, Pertinax caught himself looking at her every shape
and curve. She wore sandals on her feet and a skirt that
came to her knees. Her waist was small but continued up
to a very large buxom and well-tanned chest. She had pitch-black
hair that flowed to her waist. He knew her looks had seduced
him, but she was a Pict and he Roman! And with that analysis,
he left the room.
Some time later in the evening, during
Pertinax’s ride on the hilltop, Antoninus rode out
to relieve him of his shift.
“Gailus told me you fell down
just to get a quick look at her. Is that true?”
“I didn’t do it on purpose!
Is that what he is telling everybody?”
“She can speak Latin, did you
know that?”
“It doesn’t matter; she’s
a Pict! Do you not get it? Why am I here if not to help
to conquer her race? Tell me that?”
“Hey, calm down! I’m your
partner, not your enemy! Remember?”
“Sorry, it’s just I felt
something I knew I shouldn’t have.”
“It’s okay.” With
that said, Pertinax set off for the tower standing solemnly
in the distance.
Upon arrival, Pertinax rode the perimeter
of the tower and small farm to get to know its setting
better. At the most northerly corner of the property was
the tower, a monument to Rome’s power in hostile
land. In the next corner was the shed and the Rotweiler
pen. The shed housed all the food and tools. The most
southerly corner was home to the stables and farm. Lastly
the gate and scout tower were located at the top of a
small hill.
The scout tower was very constricted
and only used to see if anybody from the wall was approaching.
He tied up his horse and walked slowly to the main tower.
“Desidian! By Jupiter, you’re
back!”
“Has everybody gone on with the
schedule?” a tired Desidian replied.
“Yes, Antoninus just relieved
me of my shift, and I wish to sleep…” Pertinax
muttered to Desidian.
“I hear tell of a prisoner? I
think you should decide what to do with the captive before
you go to sleep.”
“My captive?” Pertinax absent
mindedly replied.
Even with his candle, Pertinax could
barley see. He approached the room that held the Pict
with an un easy stomach. She was sitting on the dusty
straw bed. He sat down on a bed across the room. Supporting
beams obscured his vision, but from what he saw, her entire
body, aside from her alluring face, was wrapped in a black
blanket.
“So you speak Latin?” Pertinax
inquired.
“Not well, but little, I…live
not far from here.”
“I will make you a deal. If you
don’t hit me, I will untie you.”
“…Promise.”
He arose from his seat and strode over
to her. He placed one hand on her face and removed the
blanket. The other he placed on her shoulder, trying to
find the rope in the dark.
“What’s your name?”
“Name?”
“What do they call you?”
“Sondellaige.”
“I’m going to call you Sondell,
all right?”
Sondell placed a warm hand upon his
neck, “I like it.”
“No, you’re a Pict. Get
off me!” Pertinax crossed the room to the far bed,
took off his boots and shirt, and went to sleep.
* * *
“How was your night?” Antoninus
asked.
“Horrible, I think I hurt her,”
Pertinax replied.
“Well, she looks pretty young,
it could have just been her…”
“Not that! We didn’t do
anything, and I think that’s what hurt her.”
“Oh… sorry.”
“I’m going to talk to her.
I’ve been debating all morning what to do. I figure,
if I tell her that I have feelings for her, then we might
be able to work around our differences, maybe.”
“She was preparing food downstairs.
We didn’t know what happened last night, so we let
her go where she wanted.”
“Thanks.”
Pertinax rose off the dirty bed and
walked tiredly to the outhouse. “She said that she
didn’t live far from here. We should tell the general
about that.”
“I’ll send Romulus back
to the wall.”
“Don’t worry about it; I’ll
go tonight. I want to have a good bath anyway.”
Pertinax walked downstairs with the
renewed feeling that the morning and icy water on the
skin always brings. In almost full military dress, only
missing his helmet, he approached Sondell.
“I thought, after last night,
you would have taken off by now,” Pertinax queried.
“My village hates me. I burned
down nine houses trying to get a fire going for supper.
They were trying to catch me to punish me, which is why
I sought refuge here. If they come back for me, I will
die from their contempt.”
“If you want to stay here, you
can, but we are leaving after new guardsmen are posted.”
“Thank you! I knew the stories
about Romans weren’t true."
“What stories?”
“They say Romans live to witness
or take part in savagery.”
“Well, some of that is true, but
to be honest, I thought the same about your people.”
“Oh.”
“Don’t worry, I don’t
have the stomach or heart for those sorts of actions”
Sondell walked foreword to Pertinax,
and he placed his hands on her hips. Her arms wrapped
around his waist, and she looked into his eyes. Pertinax,
now beyond that fact that she was a Pict, could not resist
her forwardness. His heart was reverberating in his chest,
and his face was getting hot.
She came closer and said, “I want
to thank you, and I would like to start a new life under
your protection.”
“You want to be with me?”
“Yes,” she said in mid-kiss.
Pertinax picked her up by her waist
and said, “My shift can wait.” He carried
her up the stairs.
A little after sunset, Pertinax finally
set foot out of the barracks. He walked down the stairs
and left a note at the kitchen.
By the time you read this, I will
have reached the wall, and I will be in a nice hot bath.
I will report our recent findings and give an update on
our current situation to commander Domitian.
Pertinax
Pertinax saddled his horse and galloped
down the cobblestone road. The scarcely placed trees gave
little shelter against the cold lowland wind. The darkness
was blinding, and the only thing that guided him was the
sound of the cobblestones under his horse’s hooves.
Luckily the sound was very loud, and Pertinax could hear
if the horse was going off the road.
He tried to look around to get a better
sense of how far from the wall he was. When he turned
to the left, he could see a flashing metallic line, very
small, but it looked close.
“It’s probably something
just reflecting off the wall,” he thought to himself.
That was to be his last thought, not
about his future bride, or his plans for the rest of his
life, but shrugging off a reflection from the moon on
a shimmering blade. His head fell clean off his shoulders,
and the blood was quickly hidden in the darkness of the
night as a small group of four Picts rode past.
The four Picts who took Pertinax’s
life were to be the first of over twenty-five thousand
who would storm and break through the wall that ill-omened
night. Sondell awoke to the quick thudding of boots coming
up the stairs. Her heart was hastily beating in her heated
love struck chest.
“Is it Pertinax? Is it my Pertinax?”
The door opened slowly, and the tip
of a blade pierced the tension of the room. The door swung
open to reviled a tall dark man cloaked in shadows.
“Sondellaige! Why are you still
here?” the Pict exclaimed.
“Largenoth…? These Romans
took me in after the threw you out,” Sondell replied
to her brother. “I thought you died!”
“The fall hurt, but let me show
you some‘n,” he said, tossing the bloodied
head of Pertinax. “That’s the first one of
the ’ole war! I got ’em myself! Cut ’is
’ed clean off, I did.”
Sondell fell to her knees like the collapse
of Roman invincibility. Her cries were not heard as she
was lifted off her feet and brought out to the horses.
Her sobs were ignored as she was slung over the horse
like baggage. And they were still not heard as she was
brought back to her culture.
* * *
That night was not the last time the
Picts took the wall. It was to happen again and again
until the advances from other countries and tribes could
no longer be subdued. The invunerable Roman Empire was
doomed to fall. Unlike Atlas who held the world on his
shoulders, the weight of Rome could not be held by mere
mortals.
