A Roman Story

Chapter 3: The Road to the Quarry

The sun was at its peak when we left. Not long into the journey it felt as if we were being baked alive. I wasn’t going to let the heat take me. I pushed on. The road was rough and the jagged rocks were starting to wear through my sandals and cut my feet.

It soon became obvious that the heat was becoming too much for some of the peasants and slaves who were walking with me. The officials decided amongst themselves to stop at the next lake and get water to drink.

The lake soon came into view, the water looked cool and fresh. We stopped and rested on the banks of the lake. Two officials went to collect the water and bring it back to us. Two cups were passed around to the group of us; there must have been at least twelve of us commoners and fifteen Roman soldiers.

A third cup was passed to me; I turned to look who was passing it to me. It was the soldier, which I had been conversing with earlier. I thanked him and drank the water quickly.

Already I discovered I was unpopular with the rest of the group of commoners but was favored greatly by the soldiers. Being the only female; that is what I expected. I did not wish to be treated in such a manner; I wanted to be treated just as the rest. I would do the same job as the others until my new master would come for me, then I would have a new direction and a new task to do.

I was the youngest in the group of those who had been captured; everyone else was in their late thirties. I was only seventeen.

I was different on all counts. I was the only female, I was only seventeen, the soldiers favored me and I was the only one who had been captured from Moesia. The rest of my villages occupants had managed to escape, riding the colt out of the fire, it was I who had made the mistake.

Moesia was Rome’s most troubled frontier; we never seemed to please the Romans. It was because we troubled them so that they burnt our village down. They wanted to send us a message.

After everyone had finished their water we started on our way again. It was midafternoon now and the sun was starting to lose its sting. Our feet still weary we tread the dangerous road once again.

As we walked, the soldiers, to ensure we did not try to escape, surrounded us. I was in the middle, surrounded by the rest of the peasants and farmers from the other villages, with the soldiers around them I felt very enclosed.

There was a steep hill ahead of us; we would have to reach the other side of it before we would be able to rest for the night. As we came closer to the foot of the hill the rocks under our feet felt very lose. It would be a struggle to advance. The soldiers decided to send those on horseback ahead to assess the peak to make sure it was safe to progress.

The horses made it look easier than it was. Ropes were thrown down to assist the soldiers; we would have to make our own effort.

I stood at the foot of the hill a little while longer; planning my way up. I had an idea. The horses went up using the strongest of the rocks to support them instead of going straight up. They went to the sides of the hill where there would be more to grip.

I started up the hill using the larger rocks and sides for support. The soldiers were already at the peak waiting for the rest of us. The rest of the men were still struggling to make great advancement up the hill.

I was almost ready to join the soldiers when the rock that was supporting my left foot gave way. My grip weakened and I slid a considerable way back down. Cut and bruised as I was; nothing was hurting more than my pride. I didn’t look up to the soldiers; I did not wish to look at the one who had cared for me earlier. I picked myself up and started on my way again.

 As I reached the peak I helped myself to my feet. My hands and legs grazed and bleeding, all I wanted was a lake to wash in. The backside of the hill was less rocky and not nearly as steep as what we had just climbed. We returned to our original positions and we headed down the hill towards our already prepared camp.