Sorry it's taken so long. I haven't been as inspired with writing lately as I usually am. HopefullyI can revive this story well enough. I have some big, surpriseplans for this story, so if you wish keep reading! :D
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The General Octavius exchanged a look of shock with his Centurion, before leaping to his feet. The men in the mess hall were already moving towards the door- many of them had been off duty and wore nothing but their tunics and had no weapons on them.
"Stop! Halt I say!" Octavius yelled at them, raising his hand to get their attention. "Do not run out there unarmed! Go not to your barracks to grab your things, there is no time! Go into the kitchen and find anything that can be used as a weapon! Form up in front of the medic tent!"
The soldiers scurried to do their General's bidding. Some found butchering knives, others broomsticks. They followed their General out of the mess hall, and out into the cool evening air.
"Marcus," Octavius said, turning to his second in command. "Take the men and guard Lucius and the ill. I will investigate the commotion at the front gate."
"Be careful, sir." Marcus whispered, his eyes worried. "It may be the cowboy leading the attack."
"If it is, then he shall not escape us again."
Through the groups of men rushing to their posts Octavius walked, calm, measured strides. He did not want to appear nervous to the men. That always brought down moral. He heard the sounds of men yelling in the night; the Centurions giving orders, Optios relaying them along the lines, archers calling out to each other to signal where they thought the enemy was.
Octavius quickly climbed the steps to the rampart, and scanned the darkening landscape. He saw nothing at first, then the faintest of specks on the horizon.
"What do you see, Priscus?" He asked the archer beside him calmly. He was a young man, one of the newer recruits and had better and younger eyes than his General.
"It appears to be about five figures, sir. All mounted." Priscus replied.
"Ours or the cowboys?" Octavius questioned, straining his eyes to see in the gathering dusk.
"Hard to say, sir."
"Keep your eyes on them, Priscus. Report to me if you pick out any changes." After speaking to the archer, Octavius turned to the Centurion in charge of them. "Centurion Aesop. Keep your men formed up along the wall. Do not fire until the challenge has been given. Make sure your men know that. I do not want unnecessary casualties this night."
"Yes, Sir."
Octavius turned away, and stared out once again at the approaching figures. There were only five of them, and the number seemed logical enough. He had sent Jedediah with a patrol of four cavalry soldiers to pick up one man. Thus, five total. But, he knew, the cowboys were crafty, clever people. They could have ambushed and killed the Romans, using their horses to appear harmless. If that was the case, the small, seemingly harmless group could be harboring deadly weapons. It had only taken two cowboys to partially blow a hole in the defensive wall and injure or kill almost ten men. If the figures in the distance turned out to be cowboys, the Roman force would be in trouble.
By the time the figures approached the main gate it was dark. No features could be seen as they approached. They appeared unhurried, and a few voices sounded below the wall from them as they chatted. When they neared the nervous sentries at the gate, they halted a few feet away.
"Give the challenge." Octavius whispered to the nearest sentry.
He nodded, and licked his lips before speaking. "Halt! Who goes there?"
"Optio Philippidis and his cavalry. I have returned with the cowboy sent with me and the one I was sent to get." Replied one of the mounted men.
"Let them in." Octavius ordered.
He stepped back as the heavy gate swung open, and in the torchlight he could see that the men were indeed who they claimed to be. So the cowboy had returned, as he said he would. At the thought of this, Octavius could not help but smile as he raised his hand in greeting.
"Jedediah! You have returned early. Has something happened?" He asked, his tone cheerier than it should have been.
"Nah," Jedediah replied, swinging himself off of his horse. "The man I was lookin' for happened to be on a trip of his own, an' we ran int'a him real quick."
As the cowboy spoke, an older gentleman in typical Western garments struggled to dismount his horse, having to be dragged off by one of the cavalry squad. He stepped up beside Jedediah, who smiled and swung an arm over his shoulders. He had a long, graying beard, and old, wise eyes with wrinkles around the sockets. He had very sparse hair, which was almost as gray as his beard.
"This is the man I was tellin' ya about. This here's my good ol' childhood tutor Wyatt Den."
"How do you do," The old man asked, nodding to the General.
"Quite well, and pleased to have friendly company." Octavius replied. "Come. You must be tired from your ride. Philippidis, have your men fed and rested. And rest yourself as well. Tell the Centurions the men can stand down now. We are returning to our regular watch routine." He then turned back to his two guests. "I have food and drink in my quarters prepared for you."
After Jedediah gave a small nod, Octavius led the two cowboys to his tent. There, they sat down, and were given bread and cheese and salted pork, as well as a cup of wine, although neither cowboy touched it, preferring their whisky which they had discreetly picked up from an old trading outpost on their way back.
They were silent for a time, the cowboys busy eating and the General trying to piece together the mess in his head. After some time sitting, he finally spoke.
"Did you run into any trouble on your trip?" He asked, setting his winecup down.
"Nah, not really. Your boys change into their disguises at the border, like ya planned. We then headed out towards Wyatt's homestead, but ran int'a him halfway there." Jedediah replied.
"Where was he heading?"
"I was on my way to visit my widowed sister, near Kansas." Wyatt explained, taking a swig of whisky. "When-"
"I am sorry," Octavius interrupted, narrowing his eyes in confusion. "I beg your forgiveness at my interruption, but what is this 'Kansas' you speak of?"
"It's one of our States….er, provinces." Jedediah explained, leaning over to whisper in the General's ear.
"Ah, I see. A province in your empire. Please, continue."
"Well….where was I….ah yes. I was on my way to visit my widowed sister in Kansas, minding my own business when I noticed your strange bunch riding down the road. They looked Western, but something about the way they treaded cautiously and looked around was suspicious to me. They weren't just any normal travelers. Anyways, when I reached them, I recognized this fella right here." Wyatt gestured to Jedediah, who gave a small nod of acknowledgement. "And the rest was his explanation."
"I see. And, you ran into no trouble, I presume?" Octavius asked, wanting to be sure.
"Nope. No trouble." Jedediah said with a smile. He was smiling, but still seemed uneasy. And this uneasiness was not lost on the General.
"Alright, then. Now, I suppose you are curious to know why we request your assistance."
"Not really." The old man replied, giving a slight shrug. "I figured it was something like you wanted to know where my fellow Westerners are planning their next attack and what not."
For a moment Octavius was about to reply with a sharp contort to the fact that this man thought he was so low that he would use such means to gain information as the old man was suggesting. Then again, he reminded himself, he was in a war, and playing a part few men dared to play.
"That is not why I need you." He replied coolly, trying to be polite. "I thought Jedediah had explained to you the plan already."
When both Western men shook their heads, Octavius sighed inwardly, and spoke.
"I am not your typical general. Nor am I like most of my Roman colleagues. I do not like this war. I feel it is foolish to fight. My people will gain nothing my conquering you. But they are too stubborn to admit it. That is what Romans do. They fight. Most of my superiors, however, know not what the common soldier faces. There has been too much death on both sides. My men, and the men of your war leaders. I cannot achieve peace. I am but one man. I know that even if you two were my allies, peace would be unachievable. But there is something we can do to save the lives of the men fighting in this war."
Octavius paused, waiting for a reaction. Neither man gave much of a protest, and listened for more information. The General continued.
"In about five days' time, men from my people's government will come and take away the men of yours whom have been captured. They will be sent to the city of Rome, and be executed." Octavius noted there had been no surprised look from the old man Wyatt, and figured he must have known. He appeared wise. "I do not wish for that to , Jedediah and I have formulated a plan to secretly allow your men to 'escape' the prison within these walls. But we cannot achieve this on our own. We need someone on the inside. Someone like you.'
"What can I do?" Wyatt asked, courage in the old man's eyes.
"We need someone ta lead the boys outta here." Jedediah explained, repositioning his hat. "They don't know the path home. But ya do. So, we were hopin' you could help us by leadin' a group every night, and givin' 'em directions to yer cabin."
There was silence in the tent for a while, before Wyatt let out a low whistle.
"This is mighty risky," He said, fingering the whisky bottle he was holding. "You two will both be in some deep horse crap if you're found out."
"We know." Octavius said, determination on his stony face. "But we feel it is worth the risk."
"We do." Jedediah agreed, rising to his feet. "An' if yer wonderin', yes, i trust this here skirt wearin' Roman. No offense."
"None taken." Octavius replied.
Wyatt looked up at both of them, his face emotionless. His mouth then split into a smile, and he gave a small chuckle as he shook his head.
"I'm proud of you, Jed." He said, still beaming. "I knew you'd do great things. If you trust this here Roman, then i suppose I will too. It's good to see there's some hope yet."
"Possibly the end of this war." Octavius said hopefully. He then allowed himself a small smile, and clasped his hands behind his back. "Now. I am sure it has been a long day for you two. I will have quarters prepared for the two of you, and we shall discuss further plans in the morning. Gentlemen, goodnight."
The two Westerners returned the farewell, before leaving with a legionary Octavius had summoned to an empty room nearby. Octavius let out a weary sigh as soon as they had gone, and collapsed down onto his cot. His plan had worked so far,and everything seemed to be going smoothly. And, he thought to himself, he had gained allies. The cowboy trusted him. That would make the plan much easier.
But, there was still something bothering the General. He thought on it, but could not figure out where this uneasy feeling was coming from. And so, deep in thought, he feel asleep.
No one was aware that in the prison block, there was an empty cell.