11.

Slowly the cell grew quiet. The men were soon asleep. During the night, Cornelius awoke. He might have slept, but his mind did not. He discovered a way for them to escape. He would not tell the others until later. He would know when to attack the guards. The rest would be easy.

He prayed to the gods, “Let us be chained in pairs, pairs like when we drilled and sometimes fought.”

Leopold, right on so many things, called the die correct. The buyer, Fedoro, drank a great deal of wine the night before. He slept until noon and awoke with a splitting head.

Near mid-afternoon the caravan formed. The seven, plus Rocco, were chained in pairs. Salvatore, to his disgust, found he and Rocco were paired and chained together. Only the guard’s whips kept them from fighting.

To Cornelius’ delight they were paired just as they were in the arena. Salvatore and Rocco did create a problem in Cornelius’ plan, but he would take care of problem in due time.

Fedoro, in his curtain-covered carpentum, led the caravan on the road to Roma. The four pairs of slaves, chained together in pairs, followed next. The six well-armed guards followed.

Fedoro called out to Marcus, “May the gods bless your villa and school. You are a dear friend. Keep training slaves. I shall return. Farewell, my friend.”

Marcus tried to persuade Fedoro to stay one more night. “You leave off the wine, and you can start early in the morning with a clear head.”

“We must start today. I cannot stand another drinking party and your slave girl. If we march now, we can make the inn at Chieti by dark. Good-bye my most noble friend.”

As they marched Cornelius saw his plan clearly. Walking along beside Giovanni he explained his idea. A slow wicked smile crossed Giovanna’s face. With each stop, he or Giovanni explained the plan to the other four. Cornelius did not tell Salvatore the plan. He would be told last, right before they executed the plan.

Night came and the eight were bound and chained in a barn. The guards ran chains around the upright timbers in the barn and fastened the four pair of slaves to a post. Of the guards, four slept and two watched the slaves. The eight rested and slept as much as possible. For rest and sleep the hay in the barn made better beds than the bunks in the cell.

Cornelius watched the guards the next morning for the exact moment. As they were served hot mush and bread for breakfast, the moment he sought, arrived. The six guards released the slaves from the upright post. They still wore their three cubits of chain. The chain ran between the pairs of slaves and fastened to their neck collars. The guards were spread out just right.

He issued a low whistle. A whistle agreed on as the first signal. Five sets of eyes fastened on Cornelius. All knew their assignment, except Salvatore.

Salvatore looked directly into the eyes of Cornelius and instinctively knew something was about to happen. Cornelius gave the second whistle.

Cornelius thought, “I believe Salvatore read my mind.”

The second whistle made the six guards look at Cornelius. In that moment Cornelius screamed, “Italia!”

The guards froze and it was their undoing. Six sets of hands reached for the guards at the same time. Some hands looped chains and tossed them around a guard’s neck, killing them. Some hands found weapons and killed guards.

Salvatore, seeing the action of the others, tossed his long chain around Rocco’s neck. With one jerk of the chain Rocco hit the ground, now Salvatore’s prisoner. Four of the six guards died in the first few seconds. The other two were dispatched in moments.

“Bring their weapons. There is a hammer and awl in some of this luggage. Find them and we can punch out the pin holding the chain to our neck collars.”

Salvatore asked, “What do you want me to do with this dog?”

“Just hold him,” replied Cornelius. Rocco kicked and strained at the chain around his neck.

“If he gives you too much trouble, choke him.”

Salvatore, before Rocco reacted, pulled the chain tight around his neck and started choking.

“This should make you stop kicking like the jackass you are.” Rocco became very still.

Sergio shouted, “I have the hammer and awl.”

Leopold motioned to him. “Come over here to this anvil. I will punch the pins out of the chains.”

One at a time he punched the pins out and freed the slaves, but not Rocco.

“Leave the chain on him,” directed Cornelius. “Now, gather up the weapons and anything you can use as a weapon.” Gathering up the guard’s weapons and a few farm implements, the seven men were well armed.

“Cornelius, which way are we going?” asked Antonio.

“We will go to the inn. We want our new master,” answered Cornelius.

Giovanni looked around the corner of the barn at the inn, “Here comes the master and his eight slaves. None of the slaves are armed.”

Cornelius directed, “Behind the hay! We want to surprise them.”

The master and his eight personal slaves strolled into the barn. Six armed men leaped from behind bales of hay and captured the master and his eight slaves.

At sword point and without bloodshed the men stood in shock.

The master bleated like a goat, “Please, do not hurt me. Please. I have gold. I can give you much gold, lots of gold. I can.”

Sergio interrupted him, “Be quiet! You sound like a woman.” He held the round fat man in a death grip. “One more word and I will break your neck.”

The bald headed man bleated, whimpered and began to cry. “Oh, may the gods deliver me. Please have mercy on me?”

Sergio tightened his hold. “Be quiet!” The man stopped begging, but great tears of fright ran down his face.

Cornelius stepped in front of the fat man and rummaged through his robes. He found their master’s bag of gold.

“This is what I wanted.”

“Take anything I have, but please, do not hurt me,” the slave master cried.

Cornelius commanded, “Now your rings.” He pulled three rings from the man’s short fat fingers and palmed them.

He turned to the eight slaves, “You are free. Your master just set you free. Run! Run away! Now, run!”

The eight black slaves stared at Cornelius, hesitated and then they broke and ran, out the barn door and down the road.

Cornelius laughed, “They will run into some army patrol and be recaptured or they will be taken captive by someone else and be right back serving as slaves. Poor fellows, but they may give us some needed time.”

While their attention was focused on the slave master and relieving him of his gold and rings, Rocco slowly inched away from Salvatore. He suddenly broke and ran.

Salvatore did not have a good hold on the chain and it slid through his hands. Just as the chain was about to slide through his hands, he caught the chain and held on.

Rocco ran into the end of the chain. His feet flew from under him, and he slammed to the floor of the barn. He let out one great, “Huff!” and lay still. Salvatore knelt by him and felt of his neck and found Rocco’s head rolled back and forth.

“He is dead. He must have broken his neck when he hit the end of the chain.”

“No loss. We won’t have to worry about him,” commented Cornelius.

Sergio asked, “What are we going to do with this fat cow of a man?”

Antonio said, “I know what we should do with him.”

A chorus of, “What?” filled the barn.

“We take him with us. He can walk the fat off. He probably will not last but a few miles. He will faint and die, or he will become a man. We will let him join us if he can stay up.”

Everyone crowded around Fedoro. Questions and insults rained down on him. He whimpered and cried to not be hurt. Julius picked up a pitchfork and stuck the fat man in the rear. “I will guard him with this fork. Lead on, Cornelius. I will see he stays up with you.”

Everyone laughed. Cornelius said, “Very well. Gather up the food you can find. Look through the baggage for any valuables, robes and cloaks to keep us warm and to hide these collars.” Hands rummaged through the luggage and gathered the food bags.

“Some of you saddle eight horses. We must hurry.” With eight horses standing by and bridled, they mounted.

Fedoro complained when they forced him on a horse. “I can not ride. I do not know how.”

“Silence, little fat man, or I will tie you to the horse,” ordered Julius.

Cornelius hurried them, “Take weapons and the water bags. Let us go!”

He led them out the rear of the barn and in minutes they rode into the forest and out of sight.

Fedoro suffered. Not used to riding the entire day, it was difficult to keep up, even on the horse. Every time he complained, Julius stuck him in the backside with the broad side of his sword, not a pitchfork. To their amazement, Fedoro did manage to ride the entire day.

At dusk they made a camp in a protected glen. A stream of water ran through the glen and down to the sea to the east. During the day they circled several small villages. They wanted to put as much distance between themselves and the dead guards as possible. For their noon meal they ate the cold bread and some meat they found in the food bags.

Salvatore started to build a fire. Cornelius stopped him. “We are still too close to the barn, Salvatore. We need to ride at least two or three days away. Also, we need to remove these collars. We will find a blacksmith and pay him some of Fedoro’s gold to take these collars off.”

They munched on what provisions they carried, rolled into their cloaks and went to sleep. Two stayed awake and guarded. During the night, the others took their turn at guarding the campsite. Nothing stirred during the night. The stars wheeled overhead and some night creatures moved in the dark.

Dawn came and the seven young men stirred, ate a few bites and saddled their horses.

Cornelius called to Julius, “Wake up your round friend and let us move.”

Julius walked over to Fedoro and shook him. “Wake up fat man. It is time for you to arise.” The man did not stir. Julius shook him again and when he made no move, Julius felt of his bare arm. “Cornelius, he is cold. He is dead.”

The seven young men stood in a circle around Fedoro. For some reason they were saddened by the fact he died.

Cornelius broke the silence. “Antonio, find a place we can bury him.”

“We do not have anything to dig with, Cornelius.”

“I know. Find a low place and we will cover him with rocks. Let us hurry.”

With Fedoro buried, they mounted their horses and rode deeper into the forest. All day they wound around on game trails and back roads. When they came close to a village they detoured around and moved on.

After noon Antonio asked, “Cornelius, why did you pick this direction to go?”

“North is the only direction I could think of. If we can ride to the Valley of Po, we will be safe. My clan will hide us. After time has passed we will find a way for each of you to return home.”

“Cornelius, how far is it to the Valley of Po?” asked Leopold.

“I have no idea. All I do know is we sailed two or more days to Zadar. Later we sailed two or three days to cross the sea. How far south we were sailing, I do not know.”

“This is the bad time of the year to go north, Cornelius.” Giovanni said,

“Yes, it is growing colder every day, going north. I hope spring is close enough so we might find warm weather. I do not know of anything else to do. Any place we go, we will be recognized as slaves. We have to hide and try to go north.”

Everyone nodded in agreement. Cornelius’ plan was as good as any. Besides they were free and would not die in the gladiatorial arena.

With their food gone, they did not eat for two days. Late that evening Sergio set a trap and caught a rabbit. They chanced a fire and roasted the rabbit. It did not do much to feed seven hungry young men.

After they ate Sergio said, “Let us find a better hiding place and let me set several traps. I can catch us rabbits and we will not be hungry.”

They each looked at Cornelius for his response. He sat looking into the embers of the fire.

“Very well, let us find a small village and then a good hiding place near at hand. We could buy some supplies with Fedoro’s gold and let Sergio trap some rabbits.

“Cornelius, why do we not break up in three groups and scout out in every direction?”

“We would, Giovanni, but we need to move north. If we scout north and find a village we will not have wasted any time.”

Giovanni smiled, “I guess that is why you are our leader. You think of such things. I probably would have ridden south and as you say, wasted our time.”

At daybreak they drank water to satisfy their hunger, caught their horses and rode on north. Near noon they saw several columns of smoke curling up among the trees.

Cornelius motioned for them to stop, “I will take Julius with me and we will scout the village. The rest of you find good cover and wait. We will not be gone long.”

The sun moved across the zenith of the sky before Cornelius and Julius returned.

“This is a good place for us to stop. There is a blacksmith. He will remove our collars. He served as a slave and knows about those things. I bought us some grain for the horses. Here is wheat for us and bread and a few pieces of meat. Give the horses a little grain and when we have an opportunity, we can make some bread from the wheat.”

They divided the meager food and wolfed it down. Drinking a good deal of water, their immediate hunger abated.

Sergio set several traps. By dark he returned with four big fat rabbits. They built a small fire far back under an overhanging cliff. By the flickering light they cooked the rabbits one at a time and ate until they were satisfied. After the feast, only bones were left.

With full stomachs, they settled down, rolled in their cloaks and went to sleep. Leopold stood guard, but he dozed off near dawn. The thunder of horse’s hoofs and the rumble of wagon wheels startled them awake.

They jumped to their feet in panic. The noise grew louder and louder. To their dismay they found they were camped not over twenty cubits from a main road, running east and west.

They dropped to their stomachs and crawled toward the road. A long column of Roman soldiers, wagons, carts, cavalry and war machines passed.

Crawling back to their overhang they sat and listened to the racket made by the passing army.

“We are trapped here until they have passed,” groaned Antonio.

“Do we need to move south and be just a little farther from them?” asked Leopold.

“Good idea, Leopold, let us move. Move slowly and quietly,” Cornelius directed.

They carried their meager belongings and led their horses south away from the army and the road. They could not afford a fire that night. The troops might smell the smoke.

Cornelius wondered, “How did they not smell the smoke last night?”

“Maybe we were downwind,” observed Salvatore.

Julius added, “Then what kept them from seeing the glow of the fire or hear one of the horses whinnying?”

Antonio ended the discussion. “We are just watched over by the gods.”

Giovanni snorted, “Do not you remember? The gods are for the rich.”

“You might be right, Giovanni, but maybe there is just one little god for poor people and slaves.”

Cornelius doubted one little god paid attention to the poor people and slaves. He doubted such a god existed.

All day troops and supplies moved to the east. With no fires, they were thankful for the heavy woolen robes, tunics and cloaks, they found in Fedoro’s baggage.

Winter seemed to be over, but the nights remained cold, but they found some protection from the cold wearing the woolen garments.

Again, they took turns standing guard. Many campfires winked in the darkness and through the branches of the forest. As the fires burned down the forest became black. Only stars shown overhead, but even that light did not penetrate the floor of the forest.

The next morning the noise of the moving army filled the air. The young men only watched and listened. With no food or fire they were becoming miserable.

Water only did so much to quell their hunger. Their stomachs growled, but they clenched their teeth to not complain. Late in the day the army disappeared. The last of the long column passed and the forest grew quiet.

Cornelius would not let them move for sometime after the army’s sounds faded in the distance.

“They may have a rear guard. If we ride out now, we might ride into a patrol.”

Time moved slowly, but finally Cornelius said, “Bring your horses and we will cross the road.”

Moving with caution they neared the road, stopped, listened and then crossed. Some hundred yards into the forest their luck changed, or so they thought. There alone stood a calf.

Sergio blurted out, “I can not believe it, here is a calf! The gods are watching out for us!”

Leopold, the planner of the group said, “Does anyone have a piece of rope?” Everyone began to search, but they could not find a rope or anything to use as a tether.

Leopold lamented, “How are we going to lead this animal. We are undone.”

Cornelius, as usual, found a solution. “All of you move to the south side of the calf and slowly advance. We will just drive the calf for some distance. Go easy and slowly and do not scare it.”

They circled the little calf and began to move forward. The calf moved off to the north and away from the road, the direction they desired to go. They drove the calf north for half a day.

Cornelius called out, “Start looking for a good camping place. We need time to butcher the calf and cook some meat. We need good cover.”

Giovanni called from the left side of the group, “There is a stream over here. You have to go down in a little ravine to find it. There are lots of trees and protection.”

Easily they herded the calf into the shallow ravine and toward the stream of water. Arriving at the stream they let the horses drink along with the calf.

Sergio asked, “Who has the sharpest knife? I will cut the calf’s throat.”

“What we still need is some rope. We need to hang the calf up to dress it out,” lamented Antonio.

Giovanni pointed up in a tree. “There is your rope. We can use these old vines. It should work for the same purpose.”

The men drove the calf away from the stream about twenty yards, cornered the calf and Sergio slit its throat. While Sergio and Antonio dressed the calf, the others built a fire and gathered wood for the night.

Cornelius, always the planner, said, “Fill the water bags and give the horses a bit more grain. Tomorrow we have to make up for lost time.”

Soon they were gathered around the fire watching the meat cook. The aroma of the cooking meat proved to be more than they could stand. The odor of the cooking meat filled the low valley. Their salivary glands watered and they were hard pressed to wait for the meat to cook and not eat raw meat. Only the fear of the meat making them sick kept them in control.

When the meat finished cooking, they took out their swords or knives and began to cut off strips. The hot meat was hard to handle, but they risked being burned to eat. They gorged until they could eat no more.

“Sergio, cook all of the meat. We can eat off of it most of tomorrow without fear of it making us sick. What we have not eaten by tomorrow night, we must throw away.”

Sergio, with the aid of Antonio and Julius, cooked meat until almost dawn. Once again they gorged on the freshly cooked meat.

“See to your horses and make ready. Load as much meat as we can carry.”

When they buried Fedoro earlier, Leopold took his clothes. They chided him for taking a dead man’s clothes, but now he used Fedoro’s cloak as a device to carry meat.

His friends helped and said nothing.

Antonio did say, “What a clever thing saving the cloak. It is prefect to haul the meat. Sergio, you are a very bright and clever person.”

The others laughed, but they helped spread the cloak on the ground and place the meat on it for moving. Sergio picked up the four corners and made the cloak into a makeshift carrying bag.

He laughed, “It is a bit large and most difficult to handle, but it will hold the meat. We can take turns carrying the meat.”

Salvatore said, “When we find some wine, we will drink a last toast to Fedoro and his cloak. May he be with the gods?” They clapped their hands, but not Sergio, as he held the meat sack.

All day they rode. They ate meat occasionally and drank water at every stream. At nightfall, Cornelius ordered them to eat one more time and then throw the rest of the meat in a hole in the ground.

Sergio complained, “Oh, this is hard, throwing good meat in some dark hole” They knew the meat would ruin and make them sick.

Between two rock buttes, they made a fire and warmed their bodies against the cold. Rolling into their robes, they watched the embers burn down and the stars become visible.

The only sounds were made by the night creatures. Occasionally they heard one of the horses stomp a hoof. Taking turns guarding, they were fairly safe from anyone slipping into the camp. Or so they thought.

Near dawn, Julius stood guard. Something moved in the shadows. He listened closely. Then he heard a twig snap. Without making a noise, he eased down and put his hand over Cornelius’ mouth.

He put his mouth close to Cornelius’ ear and whispered, “Company.” One at a time, the two cupped their hands over the other men’s mouths and whispered, “Company.”

Each man gripped whatever weapon he possessed, but made no sound or movement. They waited and watched.

The attackers charged, just as the sky began to turn gray in the east. A hoard of sixteen men came screaming out of the dark forest. Their attack and screaming was intended to scare and intimidate the members of the camp.

Cornelius whispered, “Hold - - hold - -.” Then he shouted, “Now, Italia!”

The seven leaped to their feet with Cornelius in the center of the group. They met the charge with a charge. Cornelius made the spear point. He rushed in swinging his sword to the left and to the right. The rest followed with equal ferocious determination.

With accurate swings of swords they met the attackers. A year of drilling in the gladiatorial school gave the seven young men tremendous advantages.

In the first attack, they killed or wounded seven attackers. Before the rest could slow their charge or retreat, swords were cutting into their sides, fronts, necks, arms and legs.

When it became light the seven saw the carnage. They saw the ground littered with heads severed from bodies, arms were missing and men, not dead lay holding their insides with their hands or trying to stop their blood from flowing.

Little time passed before the attackers were dead, sixteen of them. The seven only suffered minor wounds, a cut or a gash. It seemed a miracle. None suffered more serious wounds.

Cornelius examined each wound and gave advice as to the treatment.

They asked, “How do you know these things, Cornelius?”

“This is what my Father taught us to do to deep cuts and wounds. Damp leaves and wet bark will help the wound heal. Tie them over the wound and you will heal. We were lucky, but, my Italia friends you did well.

“First, you stood your ground and did not panic, in fact you charged with me. That is good. No command was given, but you knew what to do. The intruders were wild, and their screams would have made most men run. You did not! I salute you, Italia!”

The young men stood, blood spattered and shaken, but feeling the rush of adrenaline and pride as they cheered.

For the first time the seven stood and fought as one. Prior to the fight, Only Cornelius knew the heat of battle and the surge when he drew blood. Now, they were each bloodied. They were, indeed, men.

“Go through their possessions. Take anything of value. Some of you find their horses, if they rode horses. We cannot stay here. Wash quickly, drink fresh water and bridle your horses.”

Cornelius’ command broke the spell. The men moved quickly and efficiently. As Cornelius caught up his horse, the others were mounting.

“Cornelius, they have little of value. We took their weapons. Here is an extra knife for you. We found some axes, clubs and knives. We found one bow and this quiver of arrows. We are taking those things and three of their horses. These three are in good shape, the rest we have set free,” Leopold reported.

“Excellent, there is no need to be slowed down by ailing horses. Those three and Fedoro’s four, gives us extra mounts. Let us ride, Italia!” They cheered as they rode north into the forest.

Two days later they camped on the Aso River and about six miles inland from the Adriatic Sea. When they stopped on high ridges they saw the sea to the east. On one ridge they spotted a column of Roman cavalry. They quickly withdrew from the ridge in an effort to remain secret.

As they progressed north, Cornelius became accustomed to the crude bow of the attackers. At dusk he killed a deer. Their spirits rose and fell with their ability to find fresh meat. Tonight, as they camped in a deep ravine, their spirits were high, for they ate fresh meat.

The campfire popped and crackled merrily. The banter around the camp was light and brotherly.

Antonio called to Cornelius and asked, “How far do you think we have traveled?”

“Antonio, I really do not know. We have moved north, but much of the time we were winding around in the forest finding paths, maybe fifteen or twenty leagues.”

“How far is it to your valley?” inquired Leopold.

“I have no idea. All I know is it is growing colder each day. We must be coming closer.”

Julius stretched his mighty frame and said, “What I would give for a good bed, good food and a bath.”

Sergio punched him in the ribs. “Julius, you are dreaming. Those things do not exist. We are runaway slaves and those things are just dreams.”

“Well, let me dream. Once when I young, my family went to the baths at Messina. Ah, the weather stayed warm and the water glorious. The ocean water was just right to swim.”

Cornelius asked, “Where is Messina?”

“Cornelius, it is on an island called Sicilia. We traveled by boat. Let us see, I was ten. On the way back home pirates attacked our boat. The pirates killed the crew. They killed my father. My mother and I were taken into slavery. We stayed together for a long time, but then, another master bought me and we were separated. I have not seen her since. Three years later, I was thirteen.”

The others grew quiet as they thought of their past and how they came to be slaves. Everyone at one time or another suffered the lash of a master and hard hours of labor.

As the fire burned down they rolled into their heavy woolen cloaks and robes for another night of sleeping on the ground. Their heavy gladiator boots kept their feet warm and the woolen robes turned away the cold of the night. Even if the conditions were hard, they agreed their lot was better than in the arena.

In the camp the next evening they finished the deer and sat talking of the past.

Sergio gave the alarm, “There is a column of Roman cavalry riding down on us!” Suddenly horsemen rode in and surrounded them. They were encircled and looking at the points of lowered spears. With drawn swords, they made a circle with their backs to the inside. No one moved on either side.

The ranks of cavalry opened and the centurion rode toward them. “Friends, put down your swords. You are surrounded and greatly outnumbered.”

Cornelius called out, “We would rather die, as to be taken prisoner.”

“Who said anything about you being taken prisoner?” asked the centurion.

“Why else would you have ridden up with spears and javelins lowered?” Cornelius challenged.

“We did not know what we would find.” The centurion stepped down from his horse. “We saw your campfire, and as we were looking for a band of murderers, we took no chances. Now, put down your swords and we will talk.” The centurion walked up and stood in front of Cornelius.

Cornelius asked, “Centurion, how do you know I will not kill you?”

“I come with no weapon in my hand. My sword is hanging on my horse. I want to talk. Please put down your swords and we will sit by the fire and talk.” The centurion turned his back to Cornelius and called to his second in command.

“Brutus, retire and make camp. We will spend the night here with these men. Build fires and prepare some food.”

A large man rode forward and saluted by placing his closed right fist over his heart. “Yes, Captain. Do you want a guard?”

“No, it will not necessary. These men are just camping. I am fine. See to our men.”

“Yes, Captain.”

As Brutus rode back to the ranks, he shouted, “Javelins, up! Corporals, make camp. We will move up the stream and find wood and shelter.” There were a series of shouts and commands. The seven young men watched the soldiers lift their javelins and retire.

The captain said, “Please, put away your swords. Invite me to your fire.” Cornelius slipped his sword back into the sheath, and with a motion of his head the others followed his example. “Come to the fire, Captain. What brings you to our camp?”

The captain removed his helmet and sat on a log. “A number of things, but first let me introduce myself. I am Captain Pietro of the Augustus Cohort. Who are you?”

Cornelius introduced himself and then the others. “We are from various valleys and mountains of Italia.”

“What brings you to this part of Italia?”

“Adventure and curiosity,” replied Cornelius.

Captain Pietro smiled as if he expected their explanation and said, “I see, just out riding about the country. Well, we have been trailing a band of robbers and thieves. I did not their location, until we found sixteen dead men south of here. Three days ride back south we found the dead men. Whoever fought or attacked them, well, they were ferocious. Those sixteen men, it looked like they were in a battle. Oh, I am sure they are the thieves we were following.”

Cornelius and his companions remained silent, but exchanged sly glances.

The captain continued, “Two days earlier we talked to a blacksmith in a little village. We were in need of a smithy. He said two men came to their village, bought some supplies and wanted slave’s collar removed. The two men never came back. I do not suppose you would know anything about that?”

Cornelius replied, “I do not think so.”

“Now, I must ask. What are you really doing in this region? The closest town is a number of leagues. There are no villages and no place to obtain provisions. Again, what are you doing here?”

“We are traveling north to my home,” Cornelius answered.

“I see. Where is your home?” Captain Pietro pulled his cloak around his shoulders to ward off the evening dampness.

“In the Valley of Po,” answered Cornelius.

Captain Pietro snorted, “The Valley of Po? Why, young man that is sixty or seventy leagues from here!”

Cornelius acted unconcerned. “Yes, we know. It is a long ride. We hoped to be there before hard snow comes.”

“You will have to go to the road along the sea to ride to the Po before heavy snow. Here in the mountains and forest, riding is too slow.”

“We have ridden in the mountains to find game.”

“I see.” The captain looked around the circle. “I see you are fairly well armed. You have extra mounts. Your cloaks and robes are good heavy wool. You might make the trip, if you move down by the sea. There are good roads there.” The seven men sat silently looking at the captain.

He asked one more question, “Men, I have one more very personal question. Why are you each wearing slave collars?” The seven men came to their feet as one. Swords were drawn with determined hands and ready to use.

Captain Pietro said, “Men, sit down. I have a number of men in the camps. You could kill me, but you would die in a matter of a few moments. Tell me why you have on slave collars.” The seven men put away their swords and sat back down.

Cornelius spoke for the group, “We are freemen, Roman citizens, abducted and taken into slavery. We escaped and are going home.”

Captain Pietro sat for a long time studying each man. He observed every man met his eye and did not turn away.

Captain Pietro asked, “So you are freemen and Roman citizens?”

“Yes.”

Captain Pietro sat for a long time studying the men. He looked them over, one at a time and finally said, “Men, I think I believe you. But, I have a problem. You are wearing slave collars. By Roman law, I should hang you for being runaway slaves, but by Roman law you can join the army and live. If you are Roman citizens, and it is as you say you were kidnapped, there is safety in the army. Otherwise you can be hanged.”

His comments were met with total silence. Not one muscle moved. The seven men knew they could be hanged, and the captain could order his men to do that very deed.

“If we join your army, what will happen?” asked Leopold.

“Well, first we would remove the collars. Second, you would go through some questioning and then be put in some regiment. You would receive training, while your stories are checked out. It might take months or years to have a final decision on your claims.”

“But, we would not be hanged?” asked Sergio.

“No. You would just be soldiers. What is your decision?”

A soft chuckle went through the group. Salvatore pointed out, “Captain, you do not give us much choice. It is the army or a rope.”

“True, very true, but by law I should have already hung you. I have a feeling you seven took on sixteen and slaughtered them. They attacked you, and you defended yourselves. If you let me have those collars removed and then, join the army, no one can touch you. Oh, I must tell you. If you are lying, and we find you are truly slaves and not freemen, you will be hung. Army or no army, I will see to it personally.”

Every eye fixed on the captain. His last statement shocked the seven young men.

Giovanni asked, “You mean if you can not prove we are Roman citizens, you will hang us?”

“Correct.”

A sudden tension went through the camp. Cornelius held up his hand, “Captain, one of our group was captured on a boat some ten years ago. Pirates attacked the boat, killed his father and took him and his mother. They were sold into slavery. Now, how would you prove his innocence?”

“There are records and reports of these things. We talk to people. We find where you were born and see if you have family. There are means. I know, you are thinking a rope is at the end of this long ordeal. I will tell you, by the time the powers that be finish you will have been proven innocent or forgotten.”

“Captain, you do not give us much choice.”

“No I do not, but that is Roman law. We each live by the law.”

Cornelius stood, “Captain, let us talk it over, and we will give you an answer in the morning.”

Captain Pietro stood, put on his helmet and mounted his horse, “One thing, I will have guards watching you this night. It is not that I do not trust you, I am just being careful. I must uphold the law, I am a Roman centurion. I am bound by that law.”

The following morning, Captain Pietro rode back to the camp of the seven men. He almost fell off his horse laughing. He found them up and waiting to ride.

“I see you have made a decision. Very well, the first thing we will do is remove those collars. I know of a village where there is a blacksmith. It is some distance out of the way to our destination, but I just decided that area is a part of the patrol. There we will find a smithy I know, and he can remove those collars. Keep your cloaks up around your necks. My troops do not need to know your problems. Now, ride with me and each one of you can tell me your story.”

Cornelius said, “The dye is cast. We will join the Roma army.”