23 AD

"Get up." The commander general's steel laced tone repeated the same two words, for what had to be well over the thousandth time during the past four years of training.

Red blood dripped from his nose and mouth, down his chin, and onto his black tunic. Helix had taken to wearing predominantly black clothing shortly after his private training with commander Ynyr began. Truth be told he got tired of having to work blood stains out. Getting his feet underneath him, he rose. He did not bother wiping his face, it hurt enough without adding that pain, especially when chances were he'd just get it hit again.

This mornings flavor of training was hand to hand combat drills. Helix had thought he was improving. Yet, he ended up right back on the ground, again. It was always the same. It did not seem to matter that he went from sixteen and so weak he would repeatedly throw his guts up after a couple mile run, to twenty and able to run through an entire night, in any weather. Ynyr could still outrun him. It did not matter that his fighting skills, both unarmed and armed,  went from unable to block a single punch, to being able to beat every other soldier in his rank and most of the captains as well. Still, commander Ynyr sent him to the ground in every single practice match. The commander general was the only man Helix had never seen anyone beat.

Ynyr, he had discovered was a bit of a legend. The late Germanicus Julius Caesar had personally given Ynyr, the Grass Crown, one of the highest and rarest of all Roman military awards. To hear his veteran forces tell the story, he had single-handedly won the battle at Weser River, a battle that ultimately ended the germanic rebellion. They said the man had somehow taken his cohort of infantry around behind the enemy, then proceeded to charge with his men into the fray.  Ynyr was rumored to have personally killed hundreds of men that day without receiving a single scratch.

Slipping into his stance Helix adjusted himself under Ynyr's hyper-perceptive gaze. "Balls of your feet boy. If your flat on your feet, your flat on your back. Again."

Obeying, he balanced his weight evenly on the balls of his feet, watching Ynyr for the inevitable attack. He mirrored the commander's motions as they circled. Left foot, right foot. With the grace of a natural born predator, Ynyr suddenly uncoiled his limbs.  Helix sidestepped the first kick, aimed low at his legs, then rebounded to the right, narrowly avoiding a punch to the face. The man moved like a striking serpent at this distance!

Stepping in close, Helix opted for a grappling maneuver. Grasping his commanders still slightly extended left arm,  Helix jerked hard hooking his own left arm up and under Ynyr's armpit, while simultaneously stepping into place behind his opponents left foot. With a grunt and another violent downward yank on the wrist, he pivoted to the right on the ball of his foot continuing to pull the man off-balance. Ynyr hit the ground on his back with a muffled thud.

Wasting no time, Helix launched forward in an attempt to pin the man before he could recover. Faster then his eyes could follow Ynyr barrel rolled right letting Helix, who had overextended his balance, crash to his hands and knees beside him. Rolling up and behind Helix, Ynyr grabbed him. For a flickering instant, the younger man struggled, muscles straining like a drawn bowstring. The commander's legs caught one of Helix's, a split second before forcing them both into a roll. In the crystalline silence both men's ragged breaths could be heard, as Ynyr held the younger man on top of him, his hands linked and pulled Helix's head down.

Bright flashes cascaded across his view of the afternoon sky as hot searing pain lanced through his back and neck. Helix sucked in air, unable to move anything but a single arm. Flailing wildly, he tapped three times, signaling his submission.

Ynyr released the hold and stood, lightly brushing the sand from his trousers. Meanwhile, Helix sat on the ground, leaning back on his hands, wincing from the lingering strain on his vertebrae. By all the gods, why did he always fail against Ynyr? Even though none of the other men said anything, it was embarrassing to not at least be able to strike the man once in a while.

"Get up."

The younger man's eyes flicked upwards, rising an unpleasant thought. The commanders ever cool expression remained as he met Helix's furious gaze.

"May I request a break, sir?" He ground out the words, teeth clenched.

"Sure."

With the word, an undefinable feeling filled the space around him. It was like the charge before a lightning flash or a breath before a scream. One moment Ynyr was looking down at him, the next his foot landed squarely on Helix's supporting hand. A sickening pop sounded, followed by a flash of white-hot pain. Falling back to the sand, he cradled his right-hand vile curses spewing from between his gasping lips.

Ynyr bent over him, gaze still steady, "You have spent long enough wallowing in your fucking inabilities. Get up. Get out of your damn head and fight me."

"My hand!" Helix snarled.

Ice and stone swirled in the commander's eyes. "Do you think the enemy will stop when you are down? Do you think they will care if they break your bones?"

He felt it again, the tightening in the world. Pupils dilating he rolled away as Ynyr released a kick that would most certainly have broken ribs. He missed by a hairsbreadth. The commander wasted no time in following with another kick.

Adrenaline pumped into Helix as the fear that Ynyr would not stop struck home. Extending his hands, he pushed upwards and away, screaming, screaming in pain, screaming in anger, screaming in fear. On his feet he found himself blocking and dodging blow after blow. Each movement of his right hand was an agony that brought bile to the back of his throat. He did not have time to think. Only the reaction and pain remained.

Ynyr landed a glancing blow to his still bloody face and another solid strike to his midsection. Doubling over Helix gasped, dropping into a crouch as he gasped for air. Releasing his leg and foot in a single motion, he struck. The top of his foot solidly connected with the commander's shin. He stumbled back a step.

Blinking in surprise Helix came to his feet. Ynyr was grinning slightly, "About damn time. Now keep going."

To his astonishment and excitement, Helix managed to land two more solid blows against the commander before the training exercise ended.  It was not a win, but it was an improvement.

"Get your hand seen too. You're dismissed."

Gritting against the pain, Helix brought his right hand to hover over his heart in solute as the officer strode away. The warmth of the afternoon was nothing in comparison to the internal flush he felt. Glancing around at the dissipating crowd, he noticed a few of the newer recruits whispering amongst themselves as they threw astonished looks his way. Great. The whole garrison would hear about the outcome by dinner.

With the adrenaline fast dissipating Helix began to feel more of himself. His right hand was certainly the worst of the aches, but his back, neck and pretty much every other part of him was sore as well. Swallowing the bile that still threatened to spew from his agitated system, Helix stiffly made his way to the infirmary.

*~*~*~*~*~*

The infirmary was in a separate building located just inside Consul Marcus's massive estate grounds. It was barely a three-minute walk from the barracks, but today it had taken Helix closer to five, thanks to his physically drained and broken body.
The air inside the building smelled of cedar and herbs, lavender and peppermint being the only two smells Helix could easily identify. His pulse calmed at the rich aroma, as he passed into the shade cooled interior of the healer's domain.  The walls and floor were thick, polished, white-grey stone, offset by a stunning cedar roof. The light in the main chamber was impressive, every three beams a brightly lit chandelier, eight candles a piece, hung down.  Set high in the walls were glass paned windows, letting in copious amounts of natural brightness. To the back of the great room was a wide hall, off of which branched a few smaller corridors leading to private healing rooms, studies for the healers, and of course living chambers for the staff.

What drew Helix's attention however was an older dark-skinned woman, dressed in white robes, who bustled up to him. Her liquid brown eyes took in his posture and cradled hand in at once. The small wrinkles in her face crinkled faintly, as her expression screwed into disapproval and concern.

"Lands child! What have they done to ya now?" Her thickly Ethiopian accented voice was warmed with concern. Her touch gentle she took hold of his right arm and began to probe his hand.

Helix would have given her his usual comment about being grown and no longer a child, but the pressure of her touch drowned that thought. He gasped, trying to delicately extract his hand from her grasp, "Easy Marjani! I already know it's broken."

She tsked at him but allowed him to have his wounded appendage. "Looks like more then a fractured hand ails you, child." Her gaze traveled to his blood encrusted, slightly swollen face and then up and down his body. "Come now and Marjani will fix you up proper."

Helix followed the healer down the corridor and into a private room. There was a cot on one side of the small room, and a table with supplies on the other.

"Sit, sit." She waved a brown hand.

Crossing to the cot he eased himself down onto the white cover. A small part of him regretted soiling the spotless bedding, but every regret was soon driven away by Marjani's fussing.

"Hold still."  With practiced ease, she cleaned his face. "An inch lower and your eye'd have swollen shut," Marjani muttered as she worked. His hand was next, she took it again, even more, careful than before. "This will take a mighty time to heal." She frowned. "How'd he break it?"

It was only by chance Marjani had ever gotten to know him. At sixteen, shortly after joining the legion, he'd come in with a sprained spine from a training exercise he'd failed. A citywide ailment had been spreading like wildfire. Treating the patients consumed the resources of nearly all the healers in Aquileia.

When Helix had entered, Marjani was the only healer left in the building. She was supposed to be resting due to having caught the sickness herself. The healer had taken one look at him and promptly treated him. He'd only discovered she was the head healer about a year later when he'd gone in with a major stab wound. Ever since that day she had insisted on treating Helix herself whenever possible. Over the years she had seen many, many, 'training' wounds Ynyr had inflicted, or had a hand in.

Responding cautiously he cleared his throat and spoke, "I messed up a maneuver in training."

Marjani simply mmmm hmmmed. Choosing some supplies from the table, she returned to him and rubbed a liquid into the skin. The sensation was hot and numbing. As the pain eased, Helix near groaned with relief. "I have to set the bone. Even with the herbs, this will hurt."

Helix did his best not to cry out. He failed. Within the cry came curses, creative curses, and words he was not even sure were curses.

Marjani grinned at him when she'd finished tightly wrapping his hand so the bones would not shift. "Learned ya a few new foulities?" He shrugged. "You are staying the night. So make yourself comfortable."

"I can't! Commander-"

"Ynyr will do with you as I tell him for today and tonight. Unless he wants to break out with a case of boils!"

Helix wisely stopped arguing. "Thank you."

She smiled her anger dissipating, "Of course child."
"I'm twenty almost twenty-one. I think I'm a bit old for the, 'child', don't you?"

"Never." She flashed a mischievous grin. "There will be food served later in the common room. Until then ya should get some rest. Gods know your entire  body could use a chance to recover." With that, she left. She had a point, he supposed. Kicking off his shoes he lay back on the cot.

A few short minutes passed before the room's door was thrown open. "Captain Marcel!" Helix made to rise but Marcel ordered him to stay put.

"You are the gossip of the barracks." His blonde friend grinned excitedly. "You actually hit him?"

Helix could not stop his smile. "A couple blows. Nothing major."

"Nothing major? Nothing major? I've known the man over a decade, and no one has ever landed so much as a glancing blow!"

"Yeah, yeah." The dismissive tone told how much Helix believed that. Surely someone had fought the man and won, there were all sorts of fighters with far more experience and training then he had, and if he could land a couple blows surely someone else had.

Marcel's face turned completely sober, "Helix, I've never even seen someone come close to touching him. Honestly, I was beginning to wonder if Ynyr was even human."

The young man looked into his friend's blue eyes, unspoken questions and suspicion filling him.  Was it possible?

Marcel cut into his thoughts, tone shifting lighthearted again, "In any case, I'm impressed! Heal up. The next time you train with him, I want to watch."

Helix smiled slightly, "Yes sir."

"Eh cut that out." Marcel grinned as he left.

*~*~*~*~*~*

A shrill scream shattered the night. Instantly awake Helix listened.

In the corridor a woman screaming,  word after hurried word tumbled through the night, all in a language he did not recognize. The tone of her voice was equal parts shrill and harsh. Loud thumps, the metallic rattle of what could only be shackles, and men swearing, joined the strange cacophony of the commotion.

Setting his bare feet against the cold stone floor, Helix stood and strode to the slightly ajar door. Opening it a bit wider he stepped into the hallway. This particular section of the building had eight rooms, all the same size, and with doors parallel to each other. The first door on the left, closest to the grand room, was thrown wide open, rays of bright torchlight spilling forth. In the space just before it stood four men Helix did not know but held themselves like guards, a horrified looking woman, whose white robes meant she had to be a healer and in the center a half-crazed looking thing.

She was young, probably close to his own age if not younger. Covered in so much dirt, blood and what appeared to be some kind of goo, that it was impossible to tell anything other than, she was female. Her eyes were blue. Not the common blue of Marcel's, but a bright sparkling blue that reminded Helix of the ocean on a clear day.

Like a woman possessed she wielded her shackles, swinging them at any of the men who tried to grab her. A couple of them were already bleeding and one looked to have a broken nose. Curiosity getting the better of him, Helix sidled closer. One of the men tried to grab for her again, with a shriek she swung her weaponized wrists at him. The clank, of the impact as the chain, hit the mans head made Helix wince.

"Fuck it! If the bitch won't cooperate then she can be put down!" One of the guards reached for his weapon and the girl spat at him.

"Woah. Easy now." He was close enough to touch one of the men before he spoke. The man started, but Helix kept his attention on the girl, whose bright blue eyes had snapped to his. The eyes may have reminded him of the sea, the look in them though, reminded him of a trapped animal. Cautiously, Helix stepped into the circle. The girl ground out an unfamiliar word, which he took as a warning not to come any closer.

"I'm Helix." He pointed to himself, then to her. "You?" Her eyes stayed wary, scanning the other men before looking into his face again. She shook her head.

"Alright," He kept his tone soothing as he looked her over. She was thin, to thin. " You don't have to tell me your name, but the nice woman here." He pointed to the healer, "Will help you." After making a cleaning motion on his face, followed by putting an invisible food in his mouth, he smiled softly at her. Her eyes darted to the healer, then around at the men again.

"Back off her a bit." The man with the drawn sword scowled at Helix's request, but sheathed his weapon and nodded to the others. They all backed away a few paces. Immediately the girl relaxed a little, her filthy hands dropping. Exhaustion entered her gaze.

Helix looked at the healer, then to the men waiting at the end of the corridor. "Try to see what you can do now. But I wouldn't surround her again."

Hands wringing the healer listened and approached the captive. Much to everyone's relief, the girl let herself be led by the arm into the open room. As the door shut, the men approached again.

"Thank you, sir." One of them said, genuine gratefulness oozing off him.

Helix merely nodded. "No problem. Who is she?"

"Just a slave. She's supposed to be going to Consul Marcus as a present, but with her attitude, I can't imagine what he will do with her."

Shrugging Helix turned back toward his own chamber for the night. "Good luck."

Alone, and comfortable on the cot once more, he stared at the ceiling. Sleep did not come. Instead, his mind filled with frustrating thoughts regarding the idea that Ynyr might not be human, about Sal, who he had not seen in over a year, and about where the strange slave girl, with the foreign accent, might be from.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hello!

First, I'm sorry this took so long! Second, this chapter has a number of juicy details about the whole of the story in it, and while it may not be the most riveting chapter I am excited about it!

His chapter is dedicated to Ol1vvy ! Thank you for everything!