Story #4 - Conall - Forum member Jugurtha - 1,000 words

Second Place!

Stop looking so scared and show me those manacles, Red". The bearded man took a closer look at Conall's ankles . Then he grabbed the chain and put it on a log. With a massive blow he broke the chain and threw tongs on the ground near Conall. "Let me see how you handle these tongs, Red." And as he turned his back and started poking the fire Conall took a closer look at the object. He'd never seen those before. He picked them up anyway and started beating the manacles until somehow he managed to hit his ankle. "No, you stupid Celt. It's not a hammer! It's a kind of wrench . you wrench things with it . look." And as the old blacksmith released Conall from his chains his voice showed some sympathy. "I thought you Celts grew up between a fire and an anvil. Hmm, never even lived in a hut, eh? What kind of Celt are you? Do you at least know where you come from?" "Brittannia . at least that's what my mother used to talk about. Don't know where it is, though." "It's to the north, boy, across the Sea of the Gauls. Nice green country, I was told, but often cold and wet . unlike this frying pan!" Then he looked at Conall's afflicted skin and added: "but that would suit you just fine, now wouldn't it?" . "Did you really beat your previous assistant to death? Why did you do that?" Cuthbert smiled. "I didn't, it was an accident. He got trampled underfoot by a horse that needed new shoes." "But the rumour is that ." "I know, the camp commander likes his slaves terrified . keeps' m working, he reckons. Risky tactics if you ask me. One day he'll have a revolt on his hands." "Well, it's not just the rumours, is it? Every team loses about five men a day. That's what's eating them!" "I may sound cruel now, but that's the old and weak, boy! How long have you been here?" He stopped working and watched Conall as he searched his memory. "I was ten when I arrived here with my mom . she died a year later . I started as a water boy ." Cuthbert couldn't help but feel sorry for this young man, telling the story of his life in one short breath. "I'm 22 now", Conall sighed. "That's twelve years in this godforsaken place . you're still alive and you're strong as ever! Do you really think you would've lived if treatment here was as bad as people say? It's not that bad, Red! Galley slaves live about three years, if they're lucky, and that's it. Or did you want to be a gladiator. Only the toughest survive, boy. No, it's not that bad . but still . you couldn't blame 'm for starting an uprising if they did. Better to die for a cause if you ask me." Conall didn't know what to think of all this. Was there still a chance for another life than this one?

Later that night Cuthbert brutally awoke Conall. "Want to run, Red? This is your chance . this is it!" As Conall gathered his clothes he heard shouting and screaming outside. "What's happening", he asked as he saw Cuthbert grabbing his tools and unwrapping two swords from a piece of cloth. "And where did you get those?". "Made them a long time ago, from pieces of scrap metal I'd gathered over the years. Saved' m for a day like this. Come on, no time to hesitate!" "But what .", Conall shouted as they ran into the nightly chaos. Cuthbert was a cautious one. He didn't participate in the fighting, burning or looting. Instead he sneaked through the shadows, moving slowly, constantly aware of his surroundings. "Two stone bearers managed to kill a guard during the round-up this evening. Took his weapons and hid the body. By the time the other guards found out all hell had broken loose." "A revolt? It's finally happening? Why aren't we fighting then?" Cuthbert grabbed him by the throat. "Look here, Red. Do you want to fight? Go ahead and you won't live to see the day. Guards are regrouping and messengers have been sent to alert the nearby garrisons. At dawn the slaves will be facing an army. Do you want to be part of that? . didn't think so . so shut your gab and do as I do!" "Ok, you do the thinking", Conall said. He looked at the skirmishes one last time and then he quickly followed the old man into the night.

- "Weird, how people are prepared to give up their lives for a short moment of glory." * "Guess there's nothing like freedom"

Cuthbert couldn't help but grin. They were catching their breath under a bridge while they heard the cries of victory in the far distance. "The lords of the quarry ... they must feel on top of the world now." Conall was glad he'd followed Cuthbert. At least the old man seemed to have a plan. "What will they do now", he asked him. "They'll probably launch an attack on whatever food and wine they find." "Why don't they run ... like we do? Troops will arrive any time now!" "Most of them are still warriors, you see ... warriors make bad slaves. I doubt that legging it has even crossed their minds. They're just claiming what the Romans have denied them until now ... a victory or a warrior's death." Conall frowned: "Guess they'll have both." And on the horizon they discried the light of torches and the sound of a thousand feet muted by the morning mists. "They'll die a happy bunch," Cuthbert sighed. "Tonight they feast with Wodan ... or whatever god they have. Come on Conall, best be on our way." "So you do know my name!" Conall laughed as the old man led the way ... grumbling.

As the ibex spaded the ground in prepare of its attack, two escaped slaves made their way to the west, away from the quarry by the big river, in search of a harbour that would take them across the sea.