The Path to Otherwhere: or How I Spent My Summer Vacation by T. S. Paul

Author:T. S. Paul [Paul, T. S.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-08-22T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

My head spun in all directions as we exited through the rear of what the librarians had called the barracks. “This is crazy!”

More than a hundred men hacked and chopped at each other in mock combat in what I could only describe as the largest artificial parade ground in the universe. The enclosed area had to have covered at least a thousand acres.

“When we first arrived, there was only the Legion,” Mack explained. He brushed a bit of dirt from his toga-like garment. “Several units of the 3rd Cyrenaica Legion were snatched by the Gods from their post in Arabia. They were originally from Alexandria, and I suppose the Goddess thought it was poetic justice. They brought with them most of the 4th Martia Legion and auxiliaries.”

I allowed my eyes to focus on the main group of warriors in front of us while scanning with my Mage sight. Except for a couple of sparks here and there these men were all human. “What’s an auxiliary?”

“Good question. Think of them as volunteer special forces. While only actual citizens of Rome could serve in the Legion, they would recruit non-citizens who could earn their way in. Serve twenty-five years in the Legion as a volunteer and gain citizenship. One of Earth's twentieth centuries best science fiction writers said it best. ‘Service guarantees citizenship.’ They served as archers, slingers, lancers, scouts, you get the picture.” Mack watched the men, deep in thought. He looked like he was trying to remember what it was like in Alexandria more than two thousand years ago.

“These are the same?” Zee asked, her eyes were very wide as she took the field in.

“The same men?” At Zee’s nod Mack continued. “Some are. The rest are more recent recruits. You would have to ask Owl just how many he’s brought here, but the number is very large. A few have found their way to us through the Portals. But not many. Feel free to ask around if you wish.”

A man dressed in what appeared to be an archaic uniform of black pants and red shirt complete with epaulets approached us. Stamping his foot as if marching, he came to attention. “Sir!”

Mack smiled. “Sergeant Adams, thank you for joining us.”

“As ordered, sir!” Un-shouldering his carbine, Adams came to a parade rest.

“Ladies, this is Sergeant Ernest Adams, late of his Majesty’s 44th Regiment of Foot. Owl snatched up the sergeant and several other men in Afghanistan. He is to be your primary training instructor here,” Mack explained. “Sergeant, this is Agatha Blackmore and Zee. As instructed, they are to learn tactics, both singular and unit. Any other instruction is up to time permitting. Miss Blackmore is part of the American constabulary and might need handgun instruction.”

“Excellent sir. It shall be done as you ask.” The sergeant stomped his feet in response.

Mack nodded and looked me in the eyes. “This is where I leave you. Your quarters will be shown you and all amenities will be provided. We are not barbarians here.

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