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Location: Inverness, Scotland, United Kingdom

Tuesday, May 16, 2006

Chapter 3

Militerrus Humus Tesuti wished the marching would end. His cohort had been reassigned from the northernmost fort to the southernmost fort to help protect the coast from raids by pirates and Burdien raiders, also to help keep down the bandits in the mountain and defend the aqueducts that were going to be built. What, did they think his cohort were? Gods? True they had taken on a barbarian force five times their number and not lost a man, and captured most of the enemy. That just meant that they were good, not superhuman!

Anyway, at least it would be more exciting; more moving around seeing new ground. Not staying cooped up all the time training, but out and about doing stuff, and making a difference.

How much clay is there here? Militerrus wondered the brown flecks in his eyes glowing, well I suppose that the diamonds are found in clay so there must be some…. Blue clay that is what it is called. You can probably make interesting pots with that. They never seem to have good ones in the forts. I will have to make a set for a whole legion. Militerrus smiled.

“Are you laughing at me,” shouted the centurion who hit him on the leg with his vine staff.

“No sir! Definitely, not sir!” replied Militerrus, quickly straightening his back.

“Then what were you doing?” shouted the centurion.

“Smiling sir! Thinking of how nice it will be to see a new place, sir!” replied Militerrus hurriedly.

The centurion walked off along the line.

Soon the fort came into sight. It was impressive; walls twice as high as his old fort and a very large range of booby traps spreading out for quite some distance away from the walls.

This place gets attacked by large numbers of disciplined troops thought Militerrus. He caught sight of some bones hanging off a wooden stake.

When they were inside the fort, the gates quickly closed and they were shown to their quarters. When they had unpacked, Militerrus asked his centurion (not the one from the march) if he could be allowed to find where the pottery workshop was. After a moment’s hesitation the centurion consented. Militerrus quickly found the pottery workshop from the smell of the clay and the fact that forts always followed the same basic pattern. In a few weeks he was in charge of it and it was producing three times more pottery than had been producing before, and these of a much higher quality.

Much later on ... . .


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