"So this Kirot, is he a king or a prince?" asked one of the centurions gathered around the fire.
"He's a dog, now, Publius," Decimus replied to his colleague. "So says the Horse Master and that's all I need to know. And we'll hunt him down as such."
"We'll break camp at sunrise, then - first and sixth centuries?' Publius asked, getting an affirmative grunt from Decimus. "Then I'd better make sure my own dogs are getting some sleep like good little puppies."
"How long do you think it will take?" asked another centurion. "I don't like having the first cohort at less than full strength with those fucking Parthians doing Mars knows what."
"Three days, maybe four," Decimus estimated before pausing to swig from a passed wineskin. "Kirot's got himself loaded down with his baubles and slaves and shit. He won't outrun us. If he tries to unload to go faster, he'll leave an easy trail to follow."
"So that woman that came to see the general - she had good information and just gave it up like that?" another man wondered. "I imagine he paid her well for Kirot's whereabouts."
"Or he horse-fucked the information from her," Decimus said, drawing some ribald laughter for that.
After several years, Mark Antony was at last on the move against the Parthians who had already invaded Syria and were threatening Egypt and other eastern portions of the Roman Empire. With an uneasy peace more or less restored yet again with Octavian in Rome, Antony felt free to finally return his attention to war.
Despite being married to Octavian's sister - a union that had thus far produced two daughters - Antony's carnal interests (dalliances aside) had laid primarily with the Egyptian Queen, Cleopatra. Cleopatra had already borne Antony twins and was rumored to be pregnant again before she left Antioch to return to her own country. Now focused solely on Rome's enemies, Antony had his legions on the march.
Between her wealth and her status as Antony's lover, Cleopatra had done well; gaining some of her own empire's lost territories as Antony stripped minor monarchs of their power and lands and lifted other, more loyal ones to positions of authority. One of the deposed was a man named Kirot who was threatening trouble. While his forces were hardly great in number, if they truly existed at all, he reportedly had a troop of highly skilled assassins in his employ. This was enough for Antony to have him hunted down.
In the morning, the two centuries or eighty men each formed up and marched off. As the senior of the legion's centurions, Decimus commanded the first century of the first cohort and held the title of Primus Pilus, or First Spear. It also meant that his men, a very seasoned lot, felt entitled to sing some rather bawdy marching songs about the centurion's legendary "spear" that conquered whorehouses from Gaul to Egypt and Asia Minor.
Decimus didn't mind it as he had served with most of these men for twenty years. Looking back, he could hardly reconcile himself as the young soldier who felt ready to piss himself as he faced his first combat in Iberia.
For much of his time, he had marched and fought under Gaius Julius Caesar, himself. When Caesar became dictator, he appointed Mark Antony as Master of the Horse, his second in command. Although Antony's title soon went away after Caesar's assassination, many of the old-timers in the legions still referred to him by that title - often in reference to his sexual stamina. So in any event, Decimus never minded that songs directed at himself since he had sung quite a few filthy ones while marching with Caesar (even during his triumphal parade through the streets of Rome) and Antony while the great men laughed.
But now Caesar was deified ashes. His nephew and adopted son, the whelp Octavian, settled in Rome, and Antony had the legions in the East doing what they were meant to do. As the feet of the eighty men in his century clomped in perfect synchrony against the dusty road, Decimus kept pace, letting no wince betray the pain of the old wound in his leg.
He had received the injury during the riots in Alexandria when Caesar was holed up with Cleopatra during the civil war between the queen and her brother/husband/co-ruler. As years went by, it bothered Decimus more and he finally gave notice that was retiring. Any other century could have been sent out on this small expedition, but Decimus wanted this one last fight before returning to the Italian peninsula.
An older brother of his, a former centurion but never primus pilus, had taken up their father's trade of blacksmithing in retirement. In particular, he made weapons as he had plenty of expertise in how they should be made. Although he had been promised a plot of land from Caesar, Decimus had no interest in farming and was going to join his brother at the forge in Brundisium. It was also conveniently located next to a ludus, a training center for gladiators.
As it happened, Kirot was even worse at being a fugitive than he was as a monarch. They found his poorly guarded camp on the second day and the ensuing fight was more massacre than combat. It was certainly no Battle of Alesia, in which Decimus had earned his rank of centurion, but having Kirot's open-mouthed head mounted on a spear made a satisfying trophy to bring back to the legion.
The dead ex-king's treasures quickly became loot. Much of that would change hands in gambling games in camp before ultimately being traded for women and wine. But today, there was plenty of wine (although Decimus kept his men from imbibing too much) and females from Kirot's retinue.
Of the latter, Decimus let his men have their fill. Whether they had been concubines or slaves, the women and girls became the same in their new status as they were thrown to the ground and raped by the soldiers. Usually, Decimus would have joined in but he was feeling somewhat melancholy on completing his final battle and simply walked about and watched the familiar action. As usual, his men were creative in their lust.
A plump, now-naked girl in her mid-teens, who Decimus recognized as one of Kirot's younger half-sisters, was not enjoying her new role at all. She was howling as she waddled, doubled over, in a futile attempt to escape the rather large cock of Decimus' optio, Gnaeus, which was presently buried between her doughy buttocks. Chuckling, Decimus watched his second in command as he tugged at the makeshift reigns he had tied around the former princess's head, making as if he was taming her.
The teen's breasts wobbled as she staggered in her panic. Perhaps they cushioned her fall when she fell forward. Ever resolute, Gnaeus followed her, keeping their bodies joined until she landed on her knees and face. Now that she was trapped, Gnaeus buggered her in earnest. His blast of semen was the first that the fifteen year-old ever received in her body but it would hardly be the last. By day's end, Gnaeus' "horse" would be broken in both spirit and her ass.
Decimus stepped around a fourteen year-old whose anal virtue remained intact for the moment. But it was of little comfort to her as she lay in the dirt with the third legionary of the day humping between her spread legs. After the man came, he got up and Decimus could see the girl's meager cluster of pubic hair was fouled with blood and semen.
"Care for a go, sir?" the soldier asked.
"Yeah, give her The Spear," another one shouted as his comrades laughed.
"Carry on," Decimus said with a wave of his hand toward the girl's most recent rapist. "I don't fancy marching behind Quintillus, here, in any cave."
This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Mr Double's Palisade
A MrDouble Production:
Changes last made on: Monday, July 02, 2018