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Nightmares and Shames

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  • Nightmares and Shames

    Ok, a teaser...thoughts and criticsms please.

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    The voices, the screams, the sheer bloody nightmare still haunts me to this day. Until now, when I put ink on parchment, I have never spoken of what I know; what I have done. It is only now as I am on my death bed do I believe I can finally face the pain and confess to what I have done. Maybe it is some hope that a god somewhere will forgive me; maybe it is simply a need to have peace of mind, to confess my sins as it were, though I am not Roman nor Catholic.

    My name is Utana and I was once a member of the King's elite troops, the Immortals, feared and despised warriors of the Persian armies. But the Persian armies are no longer feared, but they are despised, decades of hatred continuously swelling against them from other nations. You see, in my life time, Persia has risen from obscurity to world power and then into poverty. But it is not this which the historians will remember. In the grand scheme of things, Persia was but a pretender on the world stage. No, the historians will remember the short, brutal reign of Persia as the world's most powerful Empire through the brutallity of its soldiers and the tyranny of its leader.

    Every passage has a beginning and mine began when I was but a boy of eight years. Persian scientists had discovered a hard substance called iron that could be used to forge armour and weapons the likes of which had never been seen before. It was a momentus occassion for the nation, which was effectively ruled from afar in Rome and Thebes. Trapped between the Illian Ocean and Rome and Egypt, Persia played the meke child to its powerful neighbours. Lacking the capability for producing an army, the King of Persia was faced with the threat of invasion daily and selling Persian pride and possessions was the only way to keep it at bay. Gods knew that the Persian army couldn't.

    The advent of iron was a turning point, though apparently the King refused to utilise it. Instead, his son, Prince Xerses decided to secretly begin the training and building of an army. Xerses had no spent forty years like his father had saying yes to the Caeser's and Cleopatra's of Rome and Egypt. He was head strong and a patriot at heart, but his methods were less than ideal. But as Prince, with backing from the military high commanders, Xerses formed the Immortals and there was little people could do to stop him. Immortals. The very name is ironic as we suffered more losses per hundred soldiers than any other unit in Persian history. Xerses made the Immortals his own secret army, laying wait until the time was right.

    It was obvious the right time wasn't quick enough coming, because the King died suddenly without reason by the time I was sixteen. I had only just finished training in the Immortals after being recruited from the Persopolis docks. Even before the dust had settled from the King's death, word was spreading that he had died at the hands of his son. However the King died, it still meant Xerses ascended the throne as King of Persia and the slippery slope to hell had been crossed.

    Once Xerses had obtained the throne, he revealed the existance of the Immortals and even I was surprised at how many of us their were. Scattered throughout Persia in every city were divisions upon divisions of Immortal troops, all sworn to die in battle to protect Persia and the King. I couldn't tell if I wanted to die for our new King, but time is not a patient mistress and I wasn't given much choice. Follow the King wherever he chose to go, or die a traitor's death.

    War loomed large over our heads as Xerses refused to bow his head and bend his knee to the Romans and Egyptians. They threatened invasion, even annihilation, unless Xerses met their demands. Xerses sent each envoy back to their leaders minus everything below the neck.

    Xerses' harsh rule was beginning to take effect at home as well. Civilians strung up in cages in town squares were a frequent site as so called traitors were rounded up and left to rot in the sun and picked to pieces by the crows. Xerses ruled brutally and did not hesitate to use his power to enfoce his rule and the Immortals were the King's tool for administering his rule. I still remember the gut wrenching screams of a woman who I stabbed while she tried to free her husband from the traitor's cage he was confined to. At the time, I shunted my feelings away, justifying my actions by telling myself I was simply following orders. Now, I am not so sure. Killing her had seemed so easy at the time, but her screams still haunt my dreams. She was the first person I had ever killed. It would not be the last.

    Within a year of taking the throne, Xerses went to war.
    Oooh! Pretty flashing red button! * PUSH *

  • #2
    Good to have you back!

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    • #3

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      • #4
        Excellent... I'm surprised no one here has taken this angle on a story before.

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        • #5
          They have, but I doubt any will be able to compare with this one.

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          • #6
            I love Persia because of their Immortals. This is great.

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            • #7
              How come the Persians are always the bad guys? They're my third favorite civ.
              "The first man who, having fenced off a plot of land, thought of saying, 'This is mine' and found people simple enough to believe him was the real founder of civil society. How many crimes, wars, murders, how many miseries and horrors might the human race had been spared by the one who, upon pulling up the stakes or filling in the ditch, had shouted to his fellow men: 'Beware of listening to this imposter; you are lost if you forget the fruits of the earth belong to all and that the earth belongs to no one." - Jean-Jacques Rousseau

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              • #8
                ...continued...


                The Persian push north

                I had never seen so much loathing from my own brethren as we marched through the northern cities enroute to Egypt. The streets were silent and women ushered their children away from the endless column of Immortals streaming past. It was to be an all out offensive. Only militia and spearmen remained within the cities for protection. As we walked, a woman ran up to me and spat in my face.

                "I hope you roast in hell!" She screeched. I had never met her before. As I kept marching, I heard local soldiers dragging her away, kicking and screaming. I had no illusions what was going to happen to her. Whatever did, she'd be in a traitor's cage by nightfall.

                We kept marching through snow, rain, wind and sunshine. My feet were red and raw, the iron armour chaffed everytime I took a step, but somehow I kept putting one foot in front of the other. To fall out of formation was to be killed by the roadside and your armour and sword stripped from you and placed on the armourer's cart following the column. They didn't even bury the dead, leaving them for crows and other scavengers to pick at.

                Everytime we marched through a city, more Immortals joined our ranks and everytime civilians glared at us with hate and loathing. We were the King's men, why shouldn't they hate us? We were the sword that the King wielded hap-hazardly and without care. I did not blame them. I loathed myself as an Immortal.

                The march north was treachorous, winding our way through the narrow passes of northern Persia towards Egypt. Men fell by the wayside, exhausted or careless, it didn't matter. The only thing said about those that fell was the cursing from the armourers if the fallen disappeared down one of the many ravines, meaning the armourers could not retrieve his sword or armour.

                Like a great snake of metal and death, the column moved north past the northern most towns of Persia, with only the rugged terrain before us and the trampled ground of thirty thousand men behind us. The days and nights had blended into one blur of changing light. What little sleep we got was taken standing up as there was not enough area for the entire army to lay down. There was no talk, so my only companion on this trek was the rattle of my armour, the hoarsness of my breath and the thoughts in my head.

                When we emerged from the mountains on the Persia-Egypt border, we were a ragged, unkempt lot. Xerses called a halt to the march there to allow us to rest. At least he had the sense to realise we needed to be fresh for an upcoming battle.

                Battle. I still chuckle bitterly when I remember our first taste of battle. The small Egyptian border town did not know what hit them. Still in its infancy, the town, which I cannot remember the name of, was lacking any walls or local garrisons to protect it. We should have simply passed it by, but Xerses wanted no trace of the enemy to be behind us.

                Since I left the Immortals, people have recounted the terrifying sight of armoured horse, but I still contend that the sight of thirty thousand armoured Immortals running across the plains ready to kill anything in front of them would fill anyone with fear.

                Farmhands tried to flee before us but were run down. Screams of women and children filled the air as the insuppressable wave of human warriors washed over them, many simply being trampled to death. We entered the town, filling the streets like a river of water. Our army was three times as big as the population of the town and the Egyptians knew it. They immediately surrendered. All throughout the town, helpless men, women and children had swords pointed at them. Not every Immortal was on the street though. A good deal were looting and partaking of the woman population.

                We were still standing there when Xerses rode into town. There was no sign of a conquering general in his posture, just the vision of somebody there to do a job.

                "What are you waiting for Captain?" He asked a nearby officer. The Captain opened his mouth but Xerses cut him off. "Kill them all and burn the town. All loot taken is to be placed in the wagons. Any man found to be carrying loot after we leave will be killed."

                Xerses rode away without waiting for a response from the Captain. Turning, the Captain spoke up.

                "You heard his majesty." He called. "Finish them off."

                The eyes of the mother I was guarding grew wide with fear. I tried to swallow but couldn't. Closing my eyes, I swung the sword back then brought it down. Somebody screamed out NO! and I opened my eyes to see a man jumping in front of the woman. My sword entered his left shoulder and opened him up diaglonally to the right hip, clean through. The man looked at me shocked. I pulled my sword out and he collapsed to the ground.

                The man's efforts were all in vain. Our swords were the finest craftsmanship of Persian swordsmiths. My sword which had so easily dissected the man had just as easily opened the front of the woman behind at the same angle. Blood dribbled from her lips as she mouthed a wordless question. I could only look on as the life bled from her wound. She soon collapsed on her would-be protector.

                It was nothing less than mass murder. Nobody was spared. Men, women, children. Young, adult or infirm. It didn't matter. Everybody that day was killed. The screams of terror and pain and anger filled the air around the town as every Egyptian citizen was put to sword. Not even those willing to pledge allegiance to the King were spared.

                Torches were brough forward and soon the entire town was ablaze, black smoke roiling and curling into the sky in a massive plume. The smell overwhelmed me and I emptied my stomach. I wasn't the only one. Xerses looked at us impassively, those coal-black eyes evaluating us as we stood. He had tested us and apparently we passed because he ordered us to form up and continue the march north.

                As we marched off, I wondered if anybody else was as cowardly as I was. I did not have the courage to stop this or even speak out. No, I simply hid behind the pretense of following orders to protect my own worthless life. As I slept that night, I realised I had two more people to haunt my dreams.
                Oooh! Pretty flashing red button! * PUSH *

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                • #9
                  ...continued...

                  I found myself in a forest, surrounded by trees so tall I could barely see the tops of them. It was quiet and peaceful. But somehow I knew this would not last. Then like a light breeze growing into a strong wind, the sounds of dying and wounded men grew from a mere whisper to a loud symphony of raucous sound.

                  A pitched battle raged around me, yet I could not see a thing, only hear the clash of weapons and grunts of fighting men. The sounds threatened to overwhelm my senses, sending me mad. I spun around, trying to see the people around. When I spun back, I came face-to-face with the blank stare of the woman I killed in the town square for trying to rescue her husband.

                  I screamed and fell backwards onto the ground. As I scrabbled backwards, I ran into something behind me. I looked up and saw the man I had halved that day, his upper torso flopping around uselessly above the lower half. He looked down at me and said one word.

                  "No." The spectre said in a flat, emotionless voice.

                  I crawled on hands and knees, sobbing uncontrollably, trying to get away from these ghouls. Suddenly I was slipping and falling down a hill until I crashed to a halt at the bottom, fighting for breath. My heart beat out of control. I sat up, and immediately wished I hadn't. Standing not two feet away from me was the other woman I had killed, trying to hold the gaping wound in her chest closed with her hands. She looked at me with pain-filled eyes.

                  "Why?" She whispered. Suddenly, her face contorted in rage. "WHY!!" She shouted out loud and launched towards me, long claws in place of fingers outreached towards me. I screamed again as her claws buried themselves deep into my side.

                  I flung my arms up, but they were pulled away, and suddenly I was looking into the face of our Master-at-Arms.

                  "Shutup." He said in a hoarse whisper. "Do you want to alert the entire Egyptian army that we're here?"

                  I shook my head and lay there, fighting to get my breath and heart beat under control. A pain eminated from my side. I had initially worried that it was something to do with the dream, but in fact was the reminants of the Master-at-Arms quick boot to shut me up. I lay there in the darkness, focusing on the pain, trying to ignore the sensations that were still fresh in my mind from the dream.

                  Thankfully, like every dark night, it ends with dawn creeping over the horizon. I had only got half a nights sleep and I could not keep the dark thoughts in my head quiet. I prepared myself. That day we were marching to meet an advancing army our scouts had reported seeing. I honed my blade and prepared my armour, all in a daze. The only thing that kept pounding through my head was the visions of the night before.

                  Before I would say I was ready, we were being formed up. My life was one continuous nightmare. As I took position, I saw that I was not the only one with a far-off haunted look in my eyes. What have we become? I kept asking myself. Nothing but thugs and murderers. Though it appeared not everybody was remorseful. A good number of soldiers had the glean in their eyes of blood lust and as for Xerses...well, Xerses sent a shiver down my spine whenever I saw him. No emotion ever showed on his face and his eyes drank everything dry with their sight.

                  We crested a hill and across the flat plain stood the Egyptian army. It outnumbered us by about twenty thousand troops and covered the slightly raised hill on the other side like a teeming mass of insects. A man alongside me tried to break and run but died at the hands of the soldier behind him.

                  We stood there in our neatly formed ranks as Xerses with his second-in-command rode to the centre of the battlefield to talk with the Egyptian leaders. The discussion was short and ended with Xerses removing the heads of the Egyptian leaders. Xerses calmly rode back to the Persian army while the Egyptians went into an uproar. Before Xerses had even reached the Persian ranks, the Egyptians charged.

                  In hindsight, I would hazard a guess that that black King of ours had designed the battle from the start. If anything, the loss of their leaders had put the Egyptians into immediate disarray.

                  As the Egyptians charged hap-hazardly across the open plain, we progressed forward at a steady pace. It was a beautiful day, I remember, the sun shining brightly and no wind of any type. But what we did would only mar that beauty.

                  As we neared the Egyptians, we broke into a trot, drawing our swords and preparing for battle. Eventually, we were at a flatout run, roaring our defiance. It ashames me, but at that stage, I was filled with bloodlust. The battle cries, threat of imminent death and the sight of war filled me with a euphoria I had not felt. This was how battle was supposed to be fought; two armies, both capable of defending themselves, clashing together.

                  The two armies collided with a clash of grunts, steel and screams. I found myself at the back, cut off from the enemy by my fellow soldiers. But the bloodlust would not subside. Using my shoulder, I barged my way through our ranks, pushing towards the front.

                  Suddenly, a large, bronze man carrying a spear of wood loomed in front of me. He lowered the spear and thrust it at me. If effortlessly batted it away and with a clean sweep, removed his head. Without thinking, I thrust my sword behind me and stopped the charge of an Egyptian warrior, suicidally armoured by nothing more than a loin cloth.

                  The battle was mayhem now. Any resemblance of order the Persian army had had was long gone now, lost in the heat of the battle and the individual need for self-preservation. Not that it mattered, the only troops we had were Immortals anyway.

                  A mounted warrior roared down on me. I side-stepped out of his way and with a quick slash, hamstringed his horse. The warrior flew off, breaking his neck as he smashed into the ground.

                  Grunting with effort, I was swinging my sword through any enemy that came before me. Somewhere I received a wound to one arm, but did not notice it. I was more focused on the sight of daylight through the teeming masses. With each enemy killed, I got closer to the other side.

                  Abruptly, I exploded from the melee into clear territory behind the Egyptians. All around me, other Persian soldiers found themselves breaking through. Realising that they had been effectively circled, the Egyptians began to throw down their weapons and surrender. I pushed one soldier to the ground and raised my sword above my head. The Egyptian raised both hands and called out a name. I realised he had called me that.

                  "What did you call me?" I demanded. The Egyptian merely looked scared and confused.

                  "He called you 'Cold Man of the South'." A nearby soldier said, then explained how he knew. "I lived on the border my entire life. I learnt Egyptian from the traders that came through."

                  "Why did he call me that?" I asked the soldier.

                  "Because they have been brought up on stories of the Cold Men of the South," explained the soldier, "men who come from the cold never regions and destroy and crush all opposition. I personally don't know what he is talking about, because I can never remember any Persians being capable of destroying Egyptians until now."

                  "They are scared of our ancestors." A cold, flat voice said. I looked up and there sat King Xerses atop his horse. I immediately lowered my head.

                  "Raise your eyes soldier." The King said. "Over a millenia ago, Persian forces rode north in search of warmer climates and more fertile grounds. That was when we first met the Romans and Egyptians. Territorial arguments arose and before anything could be done, war began. The Persians gave no quarter, appearing from the snow encrusted mountains to strike at Egyptian and Roman territory. A milennia ago, this area we are walking over was once Persian territory. But the Romans and Egyptians allied with each other and drove Persia back to the mountains and have kept us trapped in the cold south since. That time is over now and the Persians have returned to take what is rightfully theirs plus repayment for a milennia of imprisonment."

                  "My liege," I asked, "what shall we do with our prisoners?"

                  "We have no prisoners." Xerses said. I looked on confused. "I said we have no prisoners, soldier."

                  Realisation dawned in me. I tried to keep my disgust hidden, but obviously not well enough.

                  "You do not approve soldier." Xerses commented. "But I do not care. These Egyptians would kill you wherever you stood, weaponless or not. I will not give them quarter so trained soldiers can run around behind our backs. Kill them. I order it as your King."

                  I spun around and with a single swing, killed my enemy prisoner. His lifeless body slumped to the ground and stood there looking down at the body dumbfounded. Another useless death.

                  As I stood there, another Immortal ran up.

                  "My liege." The Immortal greeted the King. "The citizens in the city have barracaded themselves into their buildings. It will take a long siege to remove them."

                  "I do not intend to siege them, nor capture any Egyptian cities." Xerses said. "Burn it. They can either burn to death in their homes or come out into the streets and die at our swords. Either way, I do not care."

                  Wheeling his horse around, Xerses galloped off.

                  "You heard the man." The Egyptian-speaking soldier said. "Grab yourself a torch. It's time to light this candle."

                  I looked at the man dumbfounded.

                  "You are pleased to be doing this?" I asked. "How could you?"

                  "How could I?" The soldier repeated the question, stopping. "Quite simple really. I lived on the border. Egyptian traders were not the only Egyptians to come through our town. Egyptian armies patrolling the area to ensure the Persians did not get uppity were a frequent site. I watched my mother burn to death in her house when she refused to offer herself to the Egyptian soldiers. She locked herself in and they torched the house. So don't try to get all righteous with me. I've seen what the enemy can do. I call this payback."

                  I only shook my head as the other stalked off, holding his torch high as he made his way to the wooden walls of the city. I could understand his anger, but I did not think it justified burning an entire city to avenge its reason. However, the conversations with the soldier and the King had begun to put into perspective why we were here.

                  It did nothing to alay the nagging guilt that had become a constant companion.

                  As we continued our march north, we left another monument to our monstrosity. Even this far away from the city, we could still hear the pain-filled screams of the thousands upon thousands of people trapped in their homes with the flames steadily climbing up the city buildings. By the time sunset came, the only reminder of what had just occured was the black streak of ugliness set against a background of beauty.

                  It was too ironic for words.

                  (To be continued)
                  Oooh! Pretty flashing red button! * PUSH *

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                  • #10
                    This is an awesome story!!!!!

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                    • #11
                      Very cool story, great pov. Also I think that I won't be raising any enemy cities from now on.
                      Overworked and underpaid C/LTJG in the NJROTC
                      If you try to fail and succeed which have you done?
                      If fail to plan, then you plan to fail

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                      • #12
                        !

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                        • #13
                          This is excellent,keep going.BTW areyou going to continue A Game Of Crowns? I just re read it and would like to see how it turns out.
                          A proud member of the "Apolyton Story Writers Guild".There are many great stories at the Civ 3 stories forum, do yourself a favour and visit the forum. Lose yourself in one of many epic tales and be inspired to write yourself, as I was.

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                          • #14
                            I'm on a roll with this one at present...completely forgot about A Game of Crowns

                            Now that I've re-read it, I will most likely come back to it after I've completed this one.
                            Oooh! Pretty flashing red button! * PUSH *

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                            • #15
                              Oz you are one of the most higly rated writers here I would be honoured if you cast your opinion on my Unfinished Stories thread.
                              A proud member of the "Apolyton Story Writers Guild".There are many great stories at the Civ 3 stories forum, do yourself a favour and visit the forum. Lose yourself in one of many epic tales and be inspired to write yourself, as I was.

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