Brivoluta, Gallia Belgica, april 247
Little ever happened in Brivoluta, so the arrival of a century of men from the praesidis forces was a surprise, although a welcome one. The local guards were not alone, bringing along a group of five brigands, two of them sporting bad wounds, that were part of a group which had preyed on those taking the road to Atuatuca Tungrorum and whose other members were now food for carrions. Not all the guards had come unscatted from the fight either, although their equipment made them less vulnerable than thieves wearing cloth and mismatched bits of armour.
The locals lined the road, looking at the small column as it stopped in the small square in front of the fanum where a small fountain provided fresh water. The prisoners were led to the water, and told to drink while the soldiers took some rest.
Suddenly there was a shout in the crowd : a mother had recognized her son. But instead of despair it was rage and hate that flew toward the cowed youth. Everyone now recognized him : young Dubnotalus had fled the village about ten moons before, taking his family’s small savings and a horse from a neighbor's field, he’d gone off for a live of adventure that would lead him to an early grave, either at the point of a sword if he was lucky or as a slave in a mine somewhere in Germany…
The village priest came out of his house followed by a slave carrying a small barrel of cervoise, the locally brewed ale, that he’d kept in the sanctuary’s reserve. Soon every men of the praesidis unit had a earthenware cup full of ale in his hand, but the officers made sure none had more than a cup. There was still walking to do before sundown, the prisoners would not reach Atuatuca Tungrorum by themselves…
During the pause the soldiers talked, some with local girls, others with other civilians, a few among themselves. Such were an optio and one of his men, nursing their cup while discussing the recent action.
“And have you seen that idiot trying to spike you with the head of a dismantled pilum ? as if it would have done anything except maybe grase you if it happened to fall on exposed skin !” “Indeed, it did nothing, on the other hand if it had had any weight it could have stuck into my shield, or maybe even go through some of my lorica hamata ?” “Well, you know, maybe you got a new weapon there… a heavy spike with some weight that you can throw… It would help us when we have to chase a suspect !” “Not a bad idea, yes, and certainly more practical than a spear, javelin or bow in a city… But we’d need to keep it small to carry beside our normal patrolling gear.” “You could make it small enough to carry a pair of them inside the back of your shield ?” “Yes, with a bag of caltrops to stop those guys on horse, or even some runners... “