Day 93 - Liqian Story

Liqian Story

Matthew Ryan Fischer

The blade of his Gladius Hispaniensis would have to be sharpened and cleaned, it had been years since it had been used and Aulus wasn’t nearly as sure handed as he had once been. He gripped the hilt, his fingers still fitting neatly around the ridges shaped for his hand. He turned the blade over and passed it from hand to hand, getting reacquainted with its weight. He looked at the engraving on the blade – his name was still legible. It was a name that was not often spoken here anymore. It was a name of a man from another life and another land. The sword had been put away; he hadn’t held it in years. There had been no need. He thought there would be no need. He had hoped and prayed on it. For years his prayers had been answered, but it seemed as if the gods now had different plans. Aulus was a grandfather now, he was old and his body knew it, he had no business picking up a weapon and considering battling men half his age. Sometimes there was no other choice.

Liqian was not his home, but it had become his home. He had spent his adult life there. He had met his wife and had a child and a family there. He was happy and content in a way he had never been before as a young man on the field of battle.

Aulus’s hands were worn, there were blisters on his fingers and cracked leathery skin covered his palms. He was a farmer now. He worked in the fields and in the soil. He was lucky enough to be well into his fifth decade and had no idea how well he would be able to fight.

A lifetime ago he was a fierce warrior, a killer. Still, the Parthians had won. Once proud soldiers, they had been beaten in a failure of epic proportions, they had been massacred. Their ranks were decimated and the leaders ravaged and executed. Many of his friends had been sold into slavery and shipped off to foreign lands. He and some of his men had been separated, able to flee. They made their way, wandered into foreign lands, crossed the mountains, and had been lost. Slowly more and more found their way back together. Word spread of a new town, Liqian, a new home.

Aulus liked the sound of a new home and a new chance. Most of the remaining men had become mercenaries, but not Aulus. He was tired of fighting. He knew he would never see his homeland again, but now all he wanted was peace and a chance to live free. He had turned away from battle and war, but now war and battle had come looking for him.

There were barely a hundred of his former friends and soldiers left together in his village. But they all were fiercely brave and violent. Age may have caught up with some, but they had been part of the greatest army ever assembled. They had no fear of men half their age with half their experience and knowledge. They would defend their new homeland. They would honor a past and a land that didn’t even know they still existed. Or they would die trying. But death had never been far from a legionnaire. Why should it be any different in this new and strange land?

Aulus set about sharpening his weapon; he had furious war to prepare.