CURSED

63 AD EASTERN BRITAIN

Chapter one

Spur pulled back the hanging from the doorway of the hut he had found himself in when he had woken up and looked out on the cold, damp, misty vista that stretched away to river and on to the town of Durobrivae
Oh shit, he thought, where am I?
From behind him he heard the stirrings of someone waking and he turned to see a mass of hair.
“Spur don’t go.”
Hands parted the mass to reveal a grubby but pleasant face of a young Iceni girl. Spurius Marius smiled to himself as the memory of the touch of those lips stirred his manhood.
Oh Cupid you did me well, even though last night is lost to me I see you were sitting astride my shoulders.
Even as this thought materialised yet another head appeared from beneath the animal skins and said.
“Oh sweet Spurius do not leave us, my daughter and I need more of you”
At first as he stepped forward, grinning from ear to ear at the prospect of an interesting breakfast, the meaning of the words were lost within the blood rush that began to centre his mind on his crotch, but as the toothless crone reached out with an almost skeletal hand to grasp his member his mind shouted “daughter?”
He looked down and the memories came flooding back. His cock shrivelled away in disgust and he stepped back almost screaming
“Stay away you vile hag”

His mind replayed the events of the night before like the frescos of a whore house and his face could not disguise the feelings of disgust that began stirring in his stomach.
The young girl’s mouth dropped open in shock and surprise. The old lady’s face remained with its smile the hand still outstretched.
Spurius frantically searched for his clothes and as he started to hurriedly dress the hag’s lips began a chant.
The semi musical sound rose in volume and stopped suddenly, Spur glanced up.
The hag was looking straight at him not blinking and in a way that seemed to look deep inside him.
“Spur think on, did you not receive more pleasure than you have known between me and my child last night? Did we not take you to the very halls of the gods, why do you abuse us so?”
His Legionnaires regalia fell back to the floor of the hut as he crouched and reached down to picked up his sword and scabbard in his right hand. With his left hand he grasped his dagger and as he rose he pointed the Pugio at the old lady’s throat.
“Listen hag back off, last night was last night but now I got to go.”
“So the promises for my Keelta were ale talk, no joining, No fine villa, clothes or any of the promises you made last night as you partook of our company?”
“Fortuna Dubia, such is life, we’ve all had our fun but now it is time to part, good fortune on you and yours but now I leave.”
Clothes clutched to his chest Spurius started to back out of the dingy hut when the old lady began to chant, loudly and melodically.
The sound seemed to swirl around Spur and he swore that in the darkness of the hut coloured shapes seem to dance.
He found himself routed to the spot, the chanting resonating in his very bones
What magicery is this he thought, by Apollo what have I done now?
He forced his legs to start move but they were moving in the wrong direction, forcing him deeper into the shadows and coloured shapes. The dagger he had pulled dropped from lifeless fingers as the naked Keelta rose from the rank smelling furs and his legs moved him toward her. He saw then that she too was chanting though for some strange reason it was in his head not in his ears. The coloured shapes were twisting and dancing behind her. His left hand now seemed devoid of all life and hung at his side. He started to concentrate on the right arm and his scabbarded Gladius; he sensed rather than felt his hand grasp the bone grip and lift the weapon, letting the scabbard fall from the naked sword which he forced forward.
Time seemed to slow as the blade pieced Keelta’s stomach; he forced the blade upwards with the knowledge that she was now dying and that it would be long and painful, no warrior’s death for these two witches. The spell which had bound him seemed break and he pulled his weapon from the girl who just stood and looked at him her lips still moving but the sound in his head had gone. It seemed instantly replaced by a scream so loud it would awaken sleeping gods.
The old lady hissed,
“Bressel, Balor take him!”
Spur looked at her and thought; Take him? Then Spur caught a movement out of the corner of his eye to his right, turning he saw what had gone unnoticed was the large hunting dog that stood with its head at his chest height.
Automatically his blade flashed sideways and the dogs head leapt from its shoulders, bounced against the hut wall and landed in the hags lap.
“Balor!” she wailed, followed immediately by the command,
“Rip his throat out Bressel”
Turning to his left saw the twin of the first hound, mouth agape bare inches from his neck, the dog collapsed to floor to be replaced by a bloodied sword.

“Now Spur, what the fuck is going on in here?”
Many times over the past decade had Spurius been glad of Cornelius and his strong and deadly sword thrust but this was the best yet.
Cornelius Victorius moved into the hut followed by his younger brother Rufus, who said,
“By all that is sacred what you killing whores for?”
The young girl’s body finally crumpled to the furs and her mother looked at the three comrades.
“You will all pay for this”
To their astonishment she burrowed under the furs and the chanting started again, at first it was muffled but then the sound seemed to leap into their heads. The friends looked at each other and as one they pulled back the covers to reveal the old lady scraping at the dirt floor seemingly ignoring them all.
Beneath her hands a strange blue glow was being revealed and with a shout of glee she raised it above her head.
The three soldiers were transfixed by the sight, all around the hut strange cavorting, multicoloured shapes swirled and danced to the rhythm of the chanting.
None could move or speak and slowly the darkness enveloped them.
Spurius had one last thought before the nothingness;
I really got to stop drinking this native ale.

The mist cleared from Spurs mind and he sensed rather than felt silk flowing in a gentle breeze brushed against his face.
Where am I? He thought and then in a rush of fearful panic tried to scream the words but his body refused to cooperate.
He couldn’t move his head; or his arms, feet — oh Hades he thought he couldn’t move anything.
The distant sound of chanting drifted around inside his head and then words erupted into the silence.
“I can’t afford to lose three good soldiers like these ya know”
Spur recognised the voice of his commander
“No Sir” Came the clipped reply of his Second.
“Did they find the Hag?”
“No Sir”
“Damn this place and their gods. I’ll be glad when this tour is over”
“Yes sir”
“Have you put all their belongings with them?”
“Sir, what of that trophy sword Spur took from that druid temple we found when we were hunting that bitch Boudicca”
“Seems to me that thing showed him nothing but ill-fate and sealing it in here with him and his friends would seem prudent”
“As you command Sir”
The man placed the sword alongside Spur’s corpse, his hand lingered as if reluctant, his eyes had a look of greed and longing and his mind started to calculate haggling in the markets of Rome.
“Right then let’s go, have the men seal the cave and see that a shrine to Mars is built at the entrance”
These last words sent a chill thru Spurs body; He was dead!
Spur felt rather than heard the darkness close in on him, after an eternity the sounds stopped and Spur felt alone, really alone.

Suddenly a blue haze filled his mind and the face of the old hag appeared in front of him.
“Pay I said and pay you shall. Here the three of you will lay neither dead nor alive. This cave I will hide through the years but idle in mind you will not be and now you all can repent on a soldier’s arrogance”
She cackled and giggled away to silence then intoned in a voice that did not seem to fit Spur’s memory of the slight frail creature.
“With power from my goddess Sul I bind you here, to rest through time with mind alert and strong but with this curse that I weave will come a further obligation, an obligation to my kin and lands, that if you are needed you and your comrades will arise with arms to defend and honour.”
The voice rose in pitch and switched to the language Spur recognised as that used in the temples of the Druids then drifted away in volume leaving only silence and Spur was left with his thoughts, seemed he was gonna have a long time to think;
Yes a very long time.

61 AD EASTERN BRITAIN

Chapter two

Spur hated these clandestine jobs and tonight’s was no exception.
Here he was with the two brothers lying in a hollow at the edge of a wood watching a gathering of a religious ceremony. It was being held on a flat meadow dominated by a massive Oak tree in its centre; fires and some kind of long table at one end whilst at the other end was a white stone walled building with a grass roof.
By Jupiter these druids knew how to party and the scene he was watching were almost as energetic as a couple of religious ceremonies he had attended in Rome. Strangely though these Druids were all men and the only men taking an active part in the celebrations were Druids, exactly the opposite of everywhere else in the world Spur had seen, surely there should be priestesses? Those worshipping seemed mainly female and again this was against all he knew about religious worship. Where were the temple whores? Where were the willing female attendants?
Mind you, thought Spur, the lucky dogs look like they are enjoying it all.
The only other people present seemed to be children acting as servants. Cooking and serving food from the great table placed in front of at least ten cooking fires. At one end of the table were huge vats that would contain these isles favourite drinks, Cider and Mead.
At the other end he knew from the stories circulating amongst the legions would be the plates of local mushrooms and through their contacts with the Gaul on the mainland would be various other vision enhancing delicacies. Strangely enough this seemed the busiest of the three sections though this would suit the three comrades as befuddled minds would make the coming penetration and assassination easier.

Four days of this islands endless drizzle had seen that he was wet, cold and utterly miserable. The hollow had a layer of water that came to the waists of the three soldiers as they lay with their heads over the top of its rim.
Though his commander saw that he and his two friends were well looked after he much preferred the cut and thrust of face to face combat but a commander needed facts and sometimes the quiet assassination to remove a troublesome leader. This was far superior to the loss of life that occurred in doing the same job on the battlefield.
The area in directly in front of Spur and his two companions was a mass of cavorting, naked women surrounding three robed figures standing on a massive tree stump.
“So removing the Quercus from these damn places didn’t change their behaviour eh?”
“Would the destruction of a temple stop you from worshipping a god?”
“No, I suppose not, might wonder about how lucky that god was though!”
The noise and movement suddenly stopped.
“Mmmm, what now?”

Story by bakfliper · November 2009 · Originally published on novlet.com