It seemed that whatever eldritch force has ripped me from my camp to put me on this deserted hillside, it was considerate enough to take some of my belongings as well. Or was I to thank Quirinus? In any case, I had two sets of clothes, two surcoats, my chainmail, a waterskin, my sword, my shield, and my javelins. Also, several pouches on my belt, one of them holding ten of the new didrachii, another two ases.

Last year a new set of silver coins were struck in Capua, and many a soldier got his year’s payment in the shiny little things. My father said that if the war with Pyrrhus goes on long enough, we will mint new coins every other year or even set up a mint in Rome. Anyways, I always liked coins better than ases: the small silver pieces were much handier than the big, one-pound bronze ingots, so I carried mostly silver with me when I could. Ten didrachii were not a fortune, but they were certainly an amount that would buy me food and lodging for a while.

I also had the seven berries I received from Quirinus. I carefully put these into an empty pouch and closed it. Then I put on my chainmail. It was heavy and would tire me out quickly. But since my trusty mule was still in the camp at Asculum, I would have to carry it myself whether I wore it or not. Also, being alone in a foreign land, it seemed a wise precaution to wear armour.

As I stood and spied from the summit, the morning mist that sat at the foot of the hill, started to rise. The great white mass first rolled forward slowly, cautiously, as an advancing army feels out the weaknesses of the enemy. Then, as I watched, the fog started to climb faster. Before long it climbed halfway to where I stood, hungrily devouring mounds and bushes on the hillside, rising faster and faster, and at last it enveloped me too.

Great, I grumbled to myself. Not a road or village in sight, not even a shepherd and his flock. I sighed, then started slowly towards the valley. Truth to be told, had I glimpsed a village before the mist rolled over me, I would have had trouble finding it now, even with my sharp sense of direction and distance. I could wait, I pondered. Mist like this should rise in an hour or so, and then I will see where I am going. The air wasn’t too chilly, and the ground was dry and soft. I could just sleep for an hour or more.

On the other hand, I already put on my mail, and it would be bad luck to take it off again before marching. And despite myself, my curiosity also started to rise. Quirinus told me this world would be alien to me beyond belief, yet the hill, the morning mist, the grass, the flowers, the beetles and the ants running on the ground were just like I remembered them from home. Where are the wonders and terrors promised to me?

Choosing the southern direction on a whim, I started to descend. Soon I lost sight of the sun, but I didn’t need it anyway – I always knew where the cardinal directions laid. My mother taught me the names of the winds when I was little, standing on a hill just like this one. Since then, I could always tell from the taste of the air whether it was the cold breath of Boreas, the warm greeting of Auster, Eurus running from the Sun, or Zephyrus chasing it. Decia Maior was always annoyed by this and claimed this was the most useless thing to know from all the things a human could possibly know. But frankly, I could always tell she was just jealous.

I reached the foot of the hill and continued to walk in the valley when I saw the monster.

At first glance, it was just an unusually tall human frame. It stood with its back turned towards me, barely five paces away when I first discerned the form in the mist. Had I been in Latium, in peacetime, I would have loudly greeted the man. Had I been in Samnium or Etruria, campaigning with the army, I would have put a javelin in him. But I was at neither place, so I froze instead, laid in the tall grass, and started to ponder whether to sneak up on the man or to sneak away.

Then I realised that there was something very wrong with this man. He had a long, muscular tail, like a rat or a squirrel, and the skin on it was red as a well-cooked crayfish. Suddenly the tall shape turned, took a step towards me, and I saw that it was no man at all. It was similar to a human, but it had red skin, pitch-black eyes without any white in them, and two horns on its temple. Is that a faun? I thought with terrified fascination, wishing I would have paid more attention to the children tales when they were told to me. Do fauns have black eyes like this one?

Whatever the thing was, it towered over me, no more than two feet away, but without seeing me - the tall grass still protected me from that. The creature’s mouth was half-open, and I saw the tips of enormous canines. The monster had to have a terrifying set of teeth. Half of me wanted to put a javelin into it and then hack it into small pieces with my sword to be on the safe side, while the other half of me wanted to scream and run as fast as my feet would carry me.

I laid still instead. Even if I killed this monster, there was no guarantee there weren’t others around that would be alerted to my presence, and giving myself away by fleeing would have been equally foolish. The faun-thing had carried javelins too.

After a few seconds of staring into the dense fog, the creature shrugged and turned into another direction. I slowly started to crawl backwards, and when I lost sight of the tall figure, I cautiously stood. Southern was the wrong direction, it seems. I will go east then.

“Hey! You there, mate!”

My heart jumped into my throat. It saw me! The bloody monster saw me through the fog somehow!

The thing had javelins and much better sight than me. The smart thing would have been to turn and try to talk it out with the creature or close the gap, so I had an equal chance.

I ran instead. I was scared witless, the fog, the strange monster, the eerily deserted countryside, and Quirinus’ warning all gnawed into my courage, chipping it away, and now I had none left. I ran like a rabbit, and I was a hairbreadth away from throwing my weapons and shield down so I could flee faster.

“Hey, wait!” the faun shouted after me. “Wait, stop!”

I did nothing of the sort, of course.

 

I have been running for more than an hour when exhaustion forced me to stop. Water was running down on me everywhere, my lungs and legs were on fire.

As I tried to calm my racing heart and my ragged breath, I listened for the noises of pursuers, but nothing came. Not the heavy footsteps and clinking of a single armoured man, and not the shouts and cheers of a group hunting for a man through the hills. I have left a rather obvious trail behind myself in the tall grass, but it seems no one had followed me on it, or at least stayed behind enough so that I could not hear them yet.

How far have I run? I wondered. I remembered climbing and descending hills, but how many, I did not remember. A mistake not even a child would make! I chided myself. Everyone knew that a hunted man has to stick to the low places. Fortunately or unfortunately, but I had much more experience with hunting people than by being hunted them. Had I been there four years ago at the battle of Arretium, or at the battle of Heraclea in the last year, I could have tried my hand at fleeing a victorious enemy, provided that I survived the battle. But I was only called to arms after the army of Metellus Denter has been scattered at Arretium, and at the time of Publius Valerius’ defeat at Heraclea, I was serving under the other consul, Tiberius Coruncanius. For better or worse, but I had only experienced victory before, and now, when panicked, I forgot all the advice I received about what to do when being pursued.

It was a good thing I wasn’t being pursued this time then. Or was I? I held my breath and willed my ears to pick up even the faintest sound a human, or a monster in human form might make. There was only the droning of bees, the chirping of grasshoppers, and the chitter of a stream.

Soon the fog will rise, and I can see where I should be heading.

And indeed, the heat of the sun has already started to eat into the morning mist. The white mass started to loosen its grip over the valley where I stood. But when the haze finally dispersed I saw black clouds racing towards me on Boreas’ breath. The grasshoppers and bees quietened and ran back to their holes and hives, even the birds looked for shelter. And it was time I did that too because the large, ragged clouds promised storm, downpour and maybe even hail.

Again, I climbed a hill and looked around in the hope of seeing something. A grove here, a bush there, and I was already resigned to ride out the gathering storm in the small forest I spied when finally I spotted a cabin.

It was old, ill-made and miserable, but that was a good thing – it meant the building might be unoccupied. The inhabitants of this land were probably all monsters, like the faun I saw, and I did not fancy meeting them anytime soon.

My feet were still a bit heavy from the long run, but my heart and lungs were already calm, so I broke into a jog. The sooner I would be in the cabin, the sooner I could prepare myself for unwelcome visitors. If the little house really was unoccupied, I would barricade all the entrances with whatever was at hand. Should a monster chance upon the building, looking for me, or looking for shelter in the storm, I could keep it out for a while. I could try to surprise and kill it or talk with it. Gather information. Maybe find out if humans like me were also to be found in this land. Yes, it would be better to talk first, and only kill if it proves to be necessary. Yes talking… talking…

An icy hand grabbed my bowels, and all the hair stood on my back. I could talk with the monster! I understood what it said! At the moment, I did not pay attention to it, and because of the naked fear I felt during my flight, I was slow to remember the details, but the faun did not speak Latin! Neither did it speak Sabine, or any other Oscan language, not even Tuscus. The monster spoke a language I have never heard before. And I understood it.

With growing horror and fascination I realised that my head was crammed with words, phrases and rules of a language I did not know when I went to sleep at Asculum, less than half a day ago.

Was this the parting gift of Quirinus, like the myrtle berries? But no – the deity told me he does not know the land, where I will be taken. How could he then teach me its language? No, this was the work of that other power, the one that took me from Asculum, and dropped me on a deserted hillside in this so familiar, yet so alien world.

And I found some solace in this thought. Whatever force took me from my home, it wanted me to survive or at least give a chance for that. Why else would it have bothered to teach me the common language of this land? Because it was the language of trade and diplomacy among the folks who inhabited these rugged hills – I knew that now somehow. Even the name of the language was “Common”.

I was less than a hundred paces away from the cabin, so I shelved these thoughts for now. I would have time for fortifying the place, the black clouds were still some time away, but first I had to make sure the small house really was unoccupied. I panted only slightly, but I still changed to a much slower, and thus more silent pace.

Fixing my gaze on the tiny building, I watched for signs that might indicate the hut was occupied. I approached slowly, taking the time to make a wide circle, so I could thoroughly observe the walls, the closed shutters, the door. No small detail could escape my attention, no crevice in the planks went unscrutinised. I was not going to walk into an ambush, that’s for sure!

Unfortunately, while I was so intent on scrutinising the small house, I stopped paying attention to where I put my feet. Thus, I was utterly surprised when the earth opened up under me, and I fell screaming into the dark depths of the trap.

No sharpened stakes awaited me at the bottom of the pit. There was only mud down there, black, slimy sludge and a penetrant odour of rot. The soil was soft, deep, and I only hurt myself slightly worse as if I would have fallen into the water.

And then I saw the monster crouching in a corner, staring at me with a look of utter surprise.

“Hello”, it said in an unsure voice. “Nice of you to drop in. I guess.”

 

The monster clearly did not want to hurt me. At least not right now. It had javelins and a sword, just like me, and also a peculiar spear that had an axe on its head. But despite being armed to the teeth the creature did not move to end me, just sat at the base of the wall, his body half-sunk in the mud.

I cleared my throat. Let us see if this works!

“What is this place?” I asked. The fact that I spoke a language that I hadn’t known even a day before sent shivers down my spine, but I could keep my voice even somehow.

“I’d guess it’s a shaft for an abandoned mining attempt”, the faun-thing shrugged. “Though what they hoped to find here in the mud, is beyond me. Either way, some idiot dug this out, then was too lazy to properly fill it up. The mouth was covered by planks, but the wood has rotten away. Grass grew on the top, so I didn’t see the planks, stepped on them, they gave way, and now I am here. And now you are here too. At least neither of us will die alone.”

“Die?” I swallowed.

“Look around!” it laughed bitterly. “Whoever dug this shaft made a miserable job.”

The thing was right. The makeshift walls looked as if they were only kept in place by the prayers of the pious and the grace of all gods.

“I tried to climb out”, the monster mused. “But all I got was a shower of mud and dirt on my head. It is impossible to scale these walls. Or at least it is not possible to climb them without collapsing the whole shaft.”

My mouth was dry.

“There has to be a way out!” I said with a firm conviction I did not feel.

“If there is, you better hurry up to find it”, the faun-thing answered with a sad smile on its face. “Before I fell in, I saw a great many rainclouds heading our way. I don’t think these walls would survive a proper rainstorm.”

The creature is certainly right about this one, I thought with dismay. While the little patch of sky that I could see from my position was still blue and cheery, I remembered all too well the black clouds racing towards us. We didn’t have much time left.

Think Publius, think! I urged myself angrily. The last scion of the Decii Mures must not meet such an unworthy end! To suffocate, because an ill-made shaft collapsed on him? What a banal, terrible joke that would be!

“This shaft is not too deep”, I said slowly. “I can jump high.”

“Not that high.”

“And if I stood on your shoulder? Without my mail? If I can climb out, you throw me up that long axe-spear of yours, and I can help you climb out with it.”

The monster looked at me, and for the first time there was hope in those pitch-black eyes. Then the flames of optimism flickered and died out in the faun-thing’s gaze.

“Under the weight of two people I would sink deeper into the mud. You still won’t be high enough.”

“At least we could try!” I said, as I took off my mail. “It’s better than sitting here, waiting for death!”

The faun-thing fixed me with its gaze, then shrugged. It slowly stood.

“My name is Jim, by the way”, it said. “What is yours?”

 “Arnwalt”, I said the strangest name that came to my mind. One of our freedman had this name before we manumitted him. He came from Gallia Comata, I think, or maybe some other land over the Alpes Montes.

“Arnold”, repeated the monster. “Nice to meet you. Though the circumstances leave a lot to be desired.”

On that point, we are in complete agreement, I thought.

***

Author's note