The Laney Saga: A Suggested History of the Ancestry of Titus and Hannah Laney

By Don W. Laney and Donald Walker

"The Laney Saga" is an historical fiction about the ancestry and lives of Titus and Hannah Laney. The book is actually three books, depicting the ancestry of Titus, the ancestry of Hannah and finally, their life together. The book begins in the year 69 AD with the Roman army. Over the course of the next 300 pages we see how Laney ancestors dealt with hunger, marauders, the elements, the Black Death, religion, and persecution. You will be enthralled with Hannah's ancestors: characters such as Dei, Carlin, Teige, Liam, Sophie and Carrie. You will be equally impressed with the ancestors of Titus: Derry, Boruck, Harold, Joseph and Olaf. Some of the characters actually existed such as Hugh Slaini, Teigena Lann, Dubslane, Finn, O'Dubhshlaine and Johann Lennich. This book is a walk through history as we see what molded our ancestors and made them the men and women that still influences their descendants to this day. There is romance, anger, religious persecution, witchcraft, plague, war and even a fight in the coliseum at Rome. The Roman Empire, Druids, Feudalism, the Thirty Years' War, sailing the Atlantic, wagon trains, Indians and the Revolutionary War are all mentioned. The book begins with Titus and Hannah's ancestors caught up in 69 AD in a war with Rome. It concludes with one of their ancestors serving in the military in Iraq. And in between, there are many wonderful adventures and surprises. Read and enjoy.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Apr 20, 2011
• ISBN: 9781452019000

Don W. Laney

Don began his writing career with short stories for a regional magazine. Several of his stories have received recognition for their humor and realism. He published his first book, Charley’s Boys, about his college days in the sixties. His second book, The Laney Saga, is a historical fiction about his own ancestry. His inspiration for writing Forever Arabian is to depict what life was like for his generation. Don is an avid jogger and cyclist, enjoys hiking, and loves to read. He and his wife, Cheri, reside in Lacey’s Spring, Alabama. They have three grown sons and three grandchildren.

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Contents

Prelude

Maps

LANEY

PART 1

69 AD

FIRST BATTLE OF BEDRIACUM

(NORTHERN ITALY)

80 AD

LUTETIA (FRANCE)

Late Spring, 81 AD

THE SEA OF BRITANNICA

83 AD

BATTLE OF MONS GRAUPIUS

(SCOTLAND)

85 AD

MENAPIA, HIBERNIA

(SLAINI RIVER)

90 AD

THE SLAINI RIVER VALLEY

(BUNCLODY)

114 AD

BLACKSTAIRS MOUNTAINS

(MOUNT LEINSTER)

485 AD

CHRISTIANITY COMES TO IRELAND

(FUTURE SITE OF CLOHAMON)

1013 AD

UI DUNLAINGE

(COUNTY LAOIS)

February 1014

SKIRMISH AT UI DUNLAINGE

April 23, 1014

THE BATTLE OF CLONTARF

DUBLIN, IRELAND

GOOD FRIDAY

Summer 1349

THE PLAGUE COMES TO IRELAND

1371 A.D.

KINSALE, IRELAND

COUNTY CORK

1683 A.D.

HAMMABURG, GERMANIA

1712

CORK, IRELAND

HER NAME SHALL BE HANNAH.

1720

CORK, IRELAND

PART II

69 AD

FIRST BATTLE OF BEDRIACUM

(NORTHERN ITALY)

80 AD

ROME, ITALY

The Roman Coliseum

(THE GLADIATORIAL GAMES)

85 AD

RADASBONA

SOUTHEASTERN GERMANIA

511 AD

BAVARIAN FOREST

VILLA ERLANGEN

The Aftermath

Feudalism

522 A. D.

VILLA ERLANGEN

962 A.D.

THE BLACK FOREST

NEAR FUTURE SITE OF HEIDELBERG

June 1349

KAISERSLAUTERN

(PALATINATE, GERMANIA)

April 1525

RHINELAND VALLEY

May 1525

DER SCHWARZ STURM

THE BLACK STORM

1714

VILLAGE NEAR PRESENT-DAY KETSCH, GERMANY

1685-1730

WHY PROTESTANTS WERE LEAVING THE RHINELAND

December 1726

LUXEMBOURG

PART THREE

1727

THE IRISH SEA

ABOARD THE WILLIAM AND SARAH

Cork, Ireland, August 1727

THE WHARF

March 1729

THE CORK SPRING FESTIVAL

DETER

The Cork Spring Festival

HANNAH

Love is in the Air

Saturday, February 8, 1730

THE WEDDING

ST. ANN’S CHURCH

November 15, 1730

THE BIRTH OF ANNA MARIA

May 18, 1732

I WANT US TO GO TO AMERICA

October 1732

DETER AND HANNAH COME TO AMERICA

1732-1733

PENNSYLVANIA

Not All Catholics are Bad

January 1733

1742

FREDERICK, PA

May 1751

MOVING TO THE CAROLINAS

Indians!

MORAVIAN FALLS

NORTHERN CAROLINAS

September 8, 1781

THE BATTLE AT EUTAW SPRINGS

June 1789

WILDCAT CREEK

NEAR ROCK HILL, SOUTH CAROLINA

May 4, 1945

OKINAWA

ABOARD THE USS SANGAMON

January 1959

REDSTONE ARSENAL - HUNTSVILLE, ALABAMA

July 2008

KIRKUK, IRAQ

Epilogue

Facts About Titus and Hannah Laney

Children of Hannah and Titus:

Acknowledgements

Prelude

This book is a novel. It is a work of historical fiction. It has taken me over seven years to complete this book. I devoted numerous hours of research in trying to find out as much as I could about my ancestors. Although I didn’t know any names until the late 1600s, I still wanted to know what they experienced, what they were exposed to and how they may have dealt with life. My ancestors faced things that many of us today cannot relate to. Hunger, disease, religious persecution, marauders, injustice and resentment, are just a few.

I gave appropriate names to our ancestors and placed them in actual events. The dates, places and circumstances are accurate. I attempted to show how our ancestors would have dealt with these various ordeals of life. As the story evolved, it seemed as if I had traveled back in time and was observing what my ancestors experienced. I identified with their anger, frustration, joy, excitement, loves and hurts. I feel comfortable with what I wrote and hope I did my ancestors justice.

My research revealed a great deal of information about Hannah and Titus Laney. There are numerous legal documents on file that depict their activities. I tried to incorporate all documented information that I discovered. As I did my research, placing all the evidence on paper and compiling the story, I found a couple of astonishing facts about Hannah and Titus. As a result, I have had to rethink who I am and where my ancestry originated.

This story is historical fiction for the most part. But when the story comes to Hannah and Titus, it becomes more fact than fiction. Keep that in mind as you read. I summarized the story with my opinion, supported by the evidence of my research. My history and English background aided me in reaching my conclusion.

There is something here for everyone: love, romance, war, religion, nature, travel, mystery and adventure. I hope you enjoy the book.

•   Don W. Laney (Lenich, Lennich, Lannich, Leanich, Leanney, etc.)

Maps

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LANEY

Slaine, whence his name? Not difficult to say. Slaine, King of the Fir Bolgs, and their Judge, by him was its woods cleared from the riverbank. Afterwards, he died at Drum Fuar (i.e. Dinn Righ, near Old Leighlin) which is called Slaine’s mound and he was buried there. Over him a mighty mound was raised, so the name of Slaine was given to that hill where he met his death in that chief abode.

- Book of Leinster

PART 1

HANNAH’S ANCESTRY

69 AD

FIRST BATTLE OF BEDRIACUM

(NORTHERN ITALY)

She hurried along the river’s edge, holding her infant son close to her breast. She was clad in a black cloak pulled tightly around her entire body with only her face and her hands exposed. The creeping darkness and the murky water sent chills through her body. The infant, as if sensing something was amiss, squirmed and whined. Had he known it was a matter of life or death, he would have remained perfectly still and quiet.

The woman scurried along as fast as she could in hopes of escaping the terror of the fighting she had just witnessed. Death was seconds behind her, yet safety lay just ahead. It was growing darker, and she knew that if she could get to the forest she would likely survive.

She had watched in horror as her husband had been killed during the fighting. She was well aware that she too would suffer the same fate if she were discovered, for the hated Romans would show her no mercy. She had to escape to give her son a chance at life.

She heard the sound of horses’ hooves drawing closer. Riders were quickly approaching. The forest was only two hundred yards away, but she knew she could never get there before the riders arrived. She frantically glanced around for somewhere to hide. Her only hope was a tree embedded amongst the rocks along the rivers’ edge. She quickly slid between the tree and a large rock next to it. She knelt down, pulling the cloak over herself and the infant. If she remained perfectly still and quiet, perhaps they would pass by without noticing her.

The riders slowed their gallop to a walk as they passed the tree. It appeared that they hadn’t seen her and would pass on by. But suddenly the infant, perhaps thinking the sound was his father or someone else he knew, screamed out, Dei!

80 AD

LUTETIA (FRANCE)

He had been planning his escape for weeks. Dei had been a slave for practically his entire life. He didn’t know his exact age because he had been taken into captivity when he was an infant. He had no memory of his parents, and assumed that they had been killed. He had been told that he was approximately 12 years old. It really didn’t matter to him. He was tired of being a slave, of the constant beatings, confinement and servitude. He resented his tempestuous mistress, Ursula, who was always slapping him and berating him. He especially hated her two sons, Artemus and Drachma. They were Ursula’s twin sons, about the same age as Dei, and they enjoyed usurping their authority over him. Artemus was a bully and teaser while Drachma seemed more inclined to the feminine things of life and was a notorious tattletale. Although they were spoiled brats, they were both being trained for the military, and they spent much of their time attending classes and learning how to be soldiers like their father, Marcus. Artemus enjoyed things that involved physical training while Drachma would rather write poetry and gaze at birds or clouds. Nevertheless, Dei despised them both, and for good reason.

Dei did, however, have the utmost respect for the man of the house, Marcus Flavios. He was the tribune for the Roman outpost at Lutetia, some 100 miles inland from the English Channel in the area known as Lugdunensi (France), formerly known as Gaul. As tribune, Marcus Flavios was second in command at the outpost, carrying great influence and authority wherever he went.

Marcus was firm but fair, treated his men with respect and dignity, and was held in high esteem by the authorities in Rome. And he treated Dei with much more regard than should be expected by a slave.

The Flavios home was a beautiful rectangular-shaped villa cozily nestled in a small enclave of oak, walnut and willow trees on a bank overlooking the Sequana River. The house was one of the best around, isolated from the village and the fort by some two miles. It had all the modern conveniences of an inside kitchen, a taberna (shop for mending, repairs and cleaning), a tablinum where Marcus did his studying and paperwork and a dining room with a beautiful view of the river. There was a large atrium in the center of the house, elevated slightly from the rest of the house and used for entertainment purposes. There was the typical vestibulum for greeting guests and, at the rear of the house, there was a beautiful peristylium, consisting of various plants, shrubs, flowers and statuettes, busts and other figurines and pieces of art. Of course, there were the bedrooms, eight small rooms in all, lining both sides of the house. They would accommodate a number of guests.

Marcus Flavios also had a home in Rome, but this was where he chose to house his family. He would often be gone for months at a time while the family remained here at this country villa just on the outskirts of town.

There was a well for drawing water 20 feet from the kitchen door, even though the river was only 60 yards away. The well water was used for drinking while the river water was used for washing. Of course, one of Dei’s duties was to fetch water three or four times a day.

A trail led from the house down to the river where a pier stood ready for fishermen and boaters. The yard was well-kept with various shade and fruit trees. Numerous shrubs surrounded the house. Flowers, herbs and a vegetable garden adorned the yard. A vineyard added the finishing touches to what many considered the ideal residence.

There were also two small sheds attached to the house, providing a communal room for slaves who worked in the house. Approximately fifty feet from the house stood the barn and stables for the horses. Connected to the barn was a large fenced-in area for the horses to be trained.

There were the usual outhouses, washrooms, storage sheds, smokehouse, and slaughterhouse buildings in and about the enclosure. All in all, it was a top-notch mansion for the time, and many slaves would count themselves lucky to be serving here.

The main road from Lutetia to Ratomagus (about 60 miles to the west) ran right in front of the Flavios compound. The road itself was paved with Roman bricks and lined with beautiful trees on both sides. It was indeed a beautiful setting.

Dei was always glad when Marcus was at home because Ursula, Artemus and Drachma usually left him alone. It was when he was gone that they made his life miserable. Ursula seemed to find nothing but fault in everything he did, while the twins were constantly scheming to get Dei in trouble. If he failed to complete one of his duties in an expedient time or if he dropped a bucket of feed or water one, if not both, of the twins would rush to Ursula and tell on him, leading to a swift lashing with her always handy cane. If they found something thrown about the house, like a cloak or one of the twins’ playthings, Dei would get blamed for it and another caning was his reward. It was obvious that the twins would leave things laying about just so they could place the blame on him.

There were other individuals working for the Flavios family. There was a family that came in early each morning and took care of the gardening and yard work. There was a slave girl named Mara who did all the housekeeping and cleaning, and she assisted with certain kitchen chores. She had her own quarters, a small room attached to the back of the kitchen. There was also the family cook named Rheas, whom Dei found to be the only source of consolation he had. Like himself, Rheas was also a slave, having been captured in his home country of Britannia by Norseman who then sold him as a slave to the Roman army. He eventually was purchased by Marcus and installed as the family cook.

Rheas was about fifty years old and took care of all the cooking for the family. He lived in more than adequate quarters next to the house, while Dei slept in a small one-room shed attached to the stable. They rarely came in contact with one another, but on occasion they did manage to share stories.

There were a few others who performed specific tasks such as training the horses, mending broken fences, or applying coats of paint over the buildings. Dei’s basic responsibility was feeding and caring for the animals, cleaning out the stable and doing whatever errands needed done.

It was Rheas who told Dei where he had come from. There had been a battle somewhere in northern Italy and Dei had been a refugee of that battle. He was but a toddler, perhaps two years old, and hardly old enough to recall what had happened. Along with the other captives, they had been brought in as spoils of the victors. He was given the name Dei because that was about the only word he would mutter. He had been told that his parents were likely Batavians or Germanians, no one knew for sure. Other than that, he knew nothing about his ancestry.

At first Dei had been ‘adopted’ by a childless couple from the military, a centurion whose wife had lost their only child. But shortly after taking in Dei to be their son, she had become pregnant. She lost any and all affection for the ruddy lad and wished to give him back. The centurion knew that Flavios had just had twins and hoped that he might be willing to take the young child off his hands. After much persuasion, and realizing that the poor lad might otherwise be left to feign for himself, Flavios took him in and presented him to his reluctant wife. Ursula accepted him only because she saw the selfish prospects of having a servant and perhaps a playmate for her own children.

Needless to say, as they grew older, the relationship soiled and Dei found himself being treated more like a lowly dog than a brother or playmate. It angered him to see the special treatment bestowed on the twins while he was neglected and ignored. Day after day he absorbed the favoritism, the prejudice and the teasing and derisive looks cast his way by the arrogant twins. And then there were the beatings. Ursula was cruel. She had never once laid a hand on the deserving brats, Artemus and Drachma. On the contrary, it appeared that she vented all of her anger and frustrations on poor Dei. Occasionally he would be innocently involved in some task such as grooming the horses when Ursula would burst into the barn with her rod and begin flailing away at his body. Dei would cover his head with his arms and attempt to redirect the blows to different parts of his back. Once Ursula’s rage had vented itself, she would turn and storm away, leaving poor Dei bewildered and confused. And his hatred and resentment would deepen.

Then there were the animals. Dei seemed to have a way with them. He didn’t know why or how, but he seemed to always be able to communicate with them. Oh, he couldn’t talk with them or always know what they thought. He just seemed to be able to ‘understand’ them. He treated them with respect. The dogs and cats adored him. Whenever he walked outside he would be followed by worshipful, tail-wagging dogs with a couple of wary cats curiously pondering his moves. The caged monkeys would get excited and start screeching for attention whenever he came near them. Ursula made him stay away from them except to feed them or clean their cage because, They go crazy every time you get near them. Nevertheless, every time he fed them, they would press against the cage, turn their heads towards him and appear to drift into ecstasy as he scratched behind their ears. They loved his affectionate attention and the soothing way he talked to them. To the monkeys, he was a god, unlike the demonic twins who poked and teased and agitated them at every opportunity.

There was also a mutual adoration between Dei and the horses. This is where Dei loved to spend his time. Whenever it was time to feed and groom the horses, he would take as long as possible. He enjoyed being around them as much as they enjoyed his presence. As with the monkeys, dogs and cats, Dei would talk to the horses as he tenderly groomed them, gently massaging their grateful muscles and joints, and washing them down on hot and dusty days. He had a way of talking gently to them that seemed almost otherworldly to those who observed. This was one of the reasons that Marcus treated Dei better than a slave should expect. He had watched Dei work with the horses, cleaning and grooming them, washing and walking them. It was obvious that he had a special way with them, and for that, Marcus appreciated Dei.

Dei was a unique individual. Standing 5 feet 8 inches tall, he would only grow a couple more inches as an adult, slightly larger than the average person. He was thin but wiry, very taut and strong. He was quick with his movements and fast afoot. Another reason that Artemus and Drachma hated him was because Dei always beat them in races and arm wrestling. They were actually a little taller and heavier, but both were weak and somewhat pudgy. They never worked except when Marcus was there to force them to practice their horseback riding, archery and swordsmanship.

Dei had a small square chin that protruded slightly from his face. He had a thin, pointed face and narrow blue eyes. His hair was also brownish-red. His skin was white, much lighter than the Roman family he served. His obvious Celtic ancestry was evident in his hair and his skin color, as well as numerous other features including his size. His teeth were strong, unlike many of the Roman children who were constantly having teeth pulled. Dei also had long fingers to go with his deft and nimble hands. He was good at anything that required dexterity with the hands, often being called on to help birth a foal or repair a broken vase.

It was obvious that Dei had a gift for dealing with animals and for working with his hands. But oh did he have a temper. Dei would get mad so easily. Perhaps it was all the years of pented-up fury from being beaten. Or perhaps it had something to do with the constant mocking and teasing of the twins. For whatever reason, Dei would get so angry that he felt he could kill. Yet all he could do was take it and internalize it. Once he almost killed Drachma who had set him up for one of the worst beatings he ever received. After the beating as Dei was returning to his quarters, he turned a corner and abruptly ran right into Drachma. Drachma just smiled and mockingly teased, Did it hurt? Before he knew what he had done, Dei grabbed Drachma around the neck with both hands and pinned him against the wall. He started squeezing as hard as he could and felt the anger of a thousand lashings going through those hands. Drachma was turning blue and his eyes were bulging out. He was kicking and flailing his arms in desperation, trying to get loose from the death grip.

Dei likely would have killed him right then and there if it hadn’t been for Rheas. Rheas had apparently heard the scuffling from the kitchen and hurriedly intervened. He forced Dei’s hands away from Drachma’s neck and stepped between the two boys. He quickly turned to Drachma and said, Get you away from here and don’t say a word of this to anyone or I’ll vouch that you started it. Drachma quickly darted away.

Rheas put his arm around Dei and walked him back to the kitchen. He sat him down on a stool, gave him some water and allowed him time to recover from his anger.

I would have killed him had you not stopped me, panted Dei.

I know you would have, Dei, replied Rheas, and it would have been the last thing you ever did. You must learn to control your temper.

After a few minutes to calm down, and with the assurance that Drachma would not tattle, Dei returned to the stable to care for the horses - and to plot his escape. This was why he had decided to run away. He could no longer bear the constant torment. He had already devised a plan for his escape. It was just a matter of time – and timing.

And Rheas was in on it.

Marcus was scheduled to leave for a campaign in a few days. After he was well on his way, Dei’s plan was to slip out of his shed, follow the river to the coast, and make his way along the coastline until he came to a port city where he would hire on as a wharf hand until he made enough fare to pay his way to Britannia. From there, well, he didn’t have any plans, but he knew life anywhere had to better than the life he now lived.

Rheas would provide enough food to last until Dei could find work. Dei would carry his work knife, a blanket from his bed, a leather canteen for water, and a large back pouch to carry his food. The only other possessions he would carry with him would be his sandals and the clothes on his back, and a small, shiny coin with the inscription of a Roman emperor of which Dei knew neither the emperor’s name nor the coin’s worth. He had found it on the ground a few months previous.

Dei quietly went about doing his chores as the days before Marcus’ departure passed by. It was mid-summer, so Dei knew that he would have plenty of time to get to the coast, make his way to the city and find shelter and a job before bad weather set in. He even hoped that he could be in England before winter. But if not, he was willing to wait.

On a particularly warm day, Dei passed through the kitchen on his way to feed the monkeys. Rheas was cutting vegetables when he glanced up and noticed Dei. He immediately glanced to his left and to his right, then made a motion with his head for Dei to come to him. Dei quickly and excitedly made his way to where Rheas was standing.

Marcus left this morning, whispered Rheas.

Wha . . ! replied Dei.

Shhh! Rheas interrupted. We can’t be overheard. Your escape could get me in trouble if anyone suspects my collaboration.

Rheas laid out the plan, Tonight, after the mistress has gone to bed, I will get up to relieve myself. You must be paying the closest of attention. After I finish my business, I will reenter the house and leave the kitchen door unlocked. Your food will be on the table. There will be an egg for your morning breakfast, a half loaf of bread, a large slice of cheese and 4 pieces of dried venison. Eat it sparingly. Along the way you will probably find berries and, if you’re lucky, some apple trees. Be careful that you don’t get caught stealing a farmer’s grapes or melons or chickens. There will be a full moon, so stay in the shadows and don’t be seen by anyone.

Dei meekly replied, Oh, but I would not steal from anyone.

Rheas looked at Dei and sternly stated, One does what one has to in order to stay alive. I’m sure you never thought you could kill anyone either yet if I hadn’t intervened you would have strangled Drachma. So don’t think you won’t steal food when your stomach is screaming for sustenance.

With that stunning revelation, Dei realized that Rheas was right. This was not going to be a picnic.

Rheas then told Dei to be off and may luck be with him. Dei thanked him and hurried off to do his final chores. He rushed through each task, visualizing the escape, the journey, his first glimpse of the sea, the hustling and bustling of the seaport, and his journey to his new country. His excitement and anxiety caused him to fumble through his chores, once even spilling a bucket of water and tripping over the bucket.

He finished his chores much sooner than usual, then hurried to his shed to prepare for the journey. He stuffed his thin blanket into his back pouch along with his coin, inserted his knife between his belt and his waist, and then checked to make sure he had enough room in his pouch for the food. It would be a tight squeeze, but he figured it would fit. He placed the canteen strap around his shoulder. He was ready to go. But the sun had yet to go down. Dei still had another four or five hours to wait. So he lay back on his cot and closed his eyes. Little did he know that another pair of eyes was peeping at him through a small crack in the wall.

Dei kept having a recurring dream. He had had it for as long as he could remember. He would be walking, actually floating, alongside a dark river when he suddenly realized danger was coming. He would hide behind a big rock in hopes that the danger, whatever it was, might pass. While hiding behind the rock he became excited thinking some friend or loved one would be arriving to rescue him. Suddenly, a giant man with a big sword would appear in the cleft of that rock and raise his sword and … Dei would wake up in a cold sweat, not knowing what the dream meant or from whence it came.

Dei awoke with a start! It was dark outside. Apparently he was so tired from working so hard that he had fallen asleep. What time was it? Was it time to go to the kitchen and get the supplies? He would need the time from midnight until the next morning to gain some ground. Was it nearly dawn? Had he slept all night long?

Dei jumped from his bed and glanced outside. Totally quiet. He scanned the yard for any evidence of life. He noticed light still glimmering from Ursulla’s bedroom. She was very punctual about her bedtime, always snuffing her candles at the 10:00 hour. Dei knew that he was okay.

He quickly gathered his stuff together and quietly eased out his door. He deftly moved through the barnyard until he came to the fence separating the house from the barn. Needing fresh water, he had to dip his canteen pouch into the rain barrel. He quietly climbed over the fence and tip-toed through the yard to the barrel. He took the canteen from his shoulder and carefully held it under the water, listening as the bubbling, gurgling sounds assured him that his canteen was being filled.

After filling his canteen, Dei started back towards the safety of his shed room. But he was suddenly overwhelmed by the temptation to take a peek into the kitchen, just to see if Rheas had indeed left him his food. He froze in his tracks as he thought he heard the sound of footsteps. But after a long, tense moment he assumed it had been the wind or a stray animal.

He turned and started back for the villa. But in his haste to maneuver to the villa, his foot struck something and Dei found himself falling down. He hit the ground with a thud, almost knocking the breath out of him. It had made an obvious noise. Dei quickly glanced down to see what it was he had fallen over. Lying under his feet was a Roman helmet, obviously belonging to one of the twins. As they always did, when they were finished with something they had left it for someone else to pick up.

Dei very gingerly picked himself up and glanced around. Ursula’s candle was out. She was now retired for the night, as was everyone else in the house. Dei slowly inched back towards the kitchen, carefully watching each of his steps by the light of the full moon.

He stepped up on the patio and edged closer to the kitchen door. He knew he was much too early but he just had to see if Rheas had upheld his part of the scheme. Dei slowly took hold of the door latch and carefully lifted it up. He eased the door open, willing it to remain silent. He slowly leaned forward until his head was able to behold the contents of the kitchen. By the light of the moon, he saw what he had hoped to see. There on the kitchen work table was the food.

Dei’s heart raced with anticipation. Rheas had taken care of the final part of the escape. All Dei had to do now was to wait until the midnight hour, take the food, and flee. But a thought suddenly occurred to him. Why couldn’t he go ahead and do it now? That would give him a couple of extra hours to put between himself and any pursuers. Rheas had emphasized midnight, but everyone was retired to their quarters, so why couldn’t he go ahead and grab the food and begin his flight right now?

Dei knew it was an impulsive act, but he saw nothing wrong with beginning his escape right then. So he quietly stepped inside the kitchen, tiptoed stealthily to the table and began gathering up the food. Rheas had indeed left him with cheese, bread, dried meat and an egg, as promised, but he had also included a pomegranate and some almonds. Dei gathered them up into his arms and awkwardly made his way out of the kitchen without making any loud noise. He glanced out into the yard to see if anything was different. Again, he thought he heard a rustling movement near the barn. His heart raced with excitement at the suspense and thrill of what he was doing. When he was satisfied that the sound must have been in his imagination, he stepped back into the yard and headed for the safety of his shed room.

He began by tiptoeing ever so slowly, but as his excitement increased so did his pace. He started high-stepping his way back to his room. Once inside he rearranged his back pouch with the food now included. He took a deep breath and surveyed his room one last time. It had been the only real home he had ever known but he didn’t feel like he would miss it. His next nap would be under a sprawling oak tree overlooking a babbling brook many miles from here.

With that last thought, he turned and started out the door to freedom.

He walked straight into Marcus.

Drachma had been the one who told on Dei. It was he who was peeping through the crack in the wall. It took him only a few seconds to surmise what Dei was up to. He had rushed back into the house and told Ursula what he had seen. Ursula had then summoned one of the local patrolling soldiers to hurry back to the fort and get Marcus. Upon hearing the message, Marcus had returned and awaited Dei’s escape. It was he who was standing in the darkness, waiting to catch Dei in the act.

Marcus did not know about Rheas’ part in the plan. He just assumed that Dei had stolen the food from the kitchen. And Dei was not about to tattle. But his anger and hatred for Drachma was greater than ever.

Marcus had one of his soldiers tie Dei to a whipping post and had him administer a dozen lashes. The pain was excruciating to Dei, and with each blow he vowed to get revenge on Drachma. After the whipping, he was taken back to his shed where Mara, the servant girl, was given the responsibility of ministering to his wounds.

Mara was very tiny. She was only ten years old, was barely four and a half feet tall, and probably didn’t weight seventy-five pounds. She had black hair, round dark eyes which peered from a pretty face. Her straight raven hair ran unkempt down her back past her slim waist. Her skin gave the appearance of a summer tan. She always wore a white skirt-like tunic with a belt at the waist. She had one pair of worn-out sandals, although she preferred to go barefoot whenever possible. She was also very quiet, hardly ever spoke, and appeared to be withdrawn and unhappy. Of course, she had been a slave and a servant all her life as well, and the absence of a family was evident in her demeanor. One couldn’t help but notice her sad eyes.

Yet she treated Dei with tenderness and concern. He lay on his stomach with his exposed back covered with the wounds from the days’ whipping. He tried not to cry but any movement sent agonizing pain throughout his body. Not only did his back throb but his arms ached where he had been tied to the whipping post. He had tried turning and twisting to avoid the whip, pulling muscles and bruising himself in numerous places.

Mara had been given instructions and the proper potions to treat Dei, so she did her best to ease his pain. She also sang to him.

Her songs were actually melodic sagas that Dei could not understand. Her words were strange words that he couldn’t follow, but he would pick up a word here or there that sounded familiar. And the angelic sound of the lyrics was absolutely enchanting.

As Mara sang her charming saga her hands carefully and tenderly applied the soothing ointment to Dei’s back. As he lay there thinking about the past few hours’ events, Dei realized that he held neither resentment nor anger towards Marcus. Even though it was Marcus who had had him punished, that was to be expected. Marcus had actually gone easy on him. When a servant attempted to run away and was caught, he could expect swift and severe punishment. Dei had heard of runaways being caught and executed, tortured or sold, while others had a limb or limbs amputated. So Dei, although in extreme pain, considered himself lucky to have suffered only a dozen or so lashes from the whip.

No, his contempt and anger was directed totally at Drachma and Ursula. Artemus had pretty much stayed out of it, probably wishing that Dei would run away. Had it not been for Drachma, Dei would be half way to Ratomagus by now. What ate at him the most was the way Drachma smirked at him from the corner of the house as they brought him in and lay him in his shed.

Oh, but some day. Some day, thought Dei through gritted teeth.

That day came two months later, but not as Dei had expected.

It was mid-September and the days were growing shorter and the temperature cooler. Dei’s back wounds had healed, although the scars would remain for the rest of his life. He was busy as usual in the corral with the horses, grooming and washing them down in the afternoon sun.

Marcus was at the fort with his troops while Ursula was busy about the house. Drachma and Artemus were down by the river idling their time away. They had decided to strip off and go for a swim in the cool waters of the river. Throwing aside all their clothing, they edged into the water and began frolicking and splashing about. Dei heard them laughing and giggling like two little girls. He just looked back at his horses and tried to concentrate on his work.

Then he heard a scream.

Help! Help! Someone help!

Dei dropped his brush and darted for the river. He had no idea what was wrong but he knew it was serious. He quickly scaled the corral fence and landed with a thud on the other side. His strong legs carried him towards the river. As he started down the slope to the pier, he saw the problem. Apparently one of the twins had gotten too far into the river, had slipped, and was now struggling to get back to the shore. He was splashing and thrashing about, desperately trying to keep his head above the water. The other twin was standing chest-deep in the water with his arm extended, unable to reach his brother. A couple of more strides and Dei could see that it was Artemus standing there. So that meant it was Drachma who was drowning.

Drachma was dangerously close to getting caught in the current and being washed downstream. That would make a rescue almost impossible. Dei knew that he had to reach Drachma quickly before he went under and the current dragged him down and away. Artemus was still screaming and yelling for help, but seemed unwilling to risk his own life to save his brother. Artemus was only a fair swimmer at best, and Drachma simply had refused to ever learn. Now he was paying the price for that stubbornness.

Just as Dei got to the pier he saw Drachma go under. The current had him.

Dei hesitated. He was an excellent swimmer, taking to the water like a fish. He couldn’t remember being unable to swim. His first instinct, upon hearing of someone in trouble, was to rush to see if he could help. But now, realizing that the person in need was the hated Drachma, Dei hesitated. It would be so easy to let him drown.

Standing on the pier, he glanced down to his right at Artemus, not fifteen feet away. Artemus looked up at him and screamed in desperation, Well do something!

Dei knew that he had to do something. He quickly speculated that he could dive into the water and ‘pretend’ to try to save Drachma. In that way, he would appear to have attempted to save his life, and no one could blame him for failing. To the contrary, Artemus would be the one having to answer questions.

With that thought, Dei dove into the water.

*   *   *

Marcus was overwhelmingly grateful. And humbled. Dei had saved his sons’ life. He had dove into the waters and rescued his drowning son while Artemus had done nothing but scream like a frightened