Escape (2)

''The slaves are revolting!''

''Soldiers , where are you?''

''They will kill us all, Gods have mercy!''

The panicked cries echoed through the camp, mingling with the frantic shouts of soldiers scrambling to respond to the unexpected uprising. Alpheo stood amidst the chaos, his gaze sweeping over the scene before him. Everywhere he looked, he saw women running in fear, their voices raised in desperate pleas for help.

Yet he paid them no mind. They were hardly a threat compared to the soldiers left behind to guard the camp. The real obstacle lay in overcoming these remaining defenders, scattered as they were throughout the perimeter. They had to be fast , as scattered soldiers also worked to their advantage, as it meant they could be overwhelmed through sheer numbers.

Initially, he had worried that the slaves, would have pursued the women to rape them and take revenge for the years of contempt , luckily they still had enough brains to understand that danger was still ahead of them.

"With me, men!" Alpheo's commanding voice echoed through the camp as he led some hundreds slaves forward. The thump of their feet on the dirt path reverberated through the air, as they ran foward . Along the way, they encountered scattered groups of soldiers, usually either alone or in group of two and three.These men were no match for their overwhelming numbers, though . As at the sight of the frenzied mob charging towards them, the soldiers dropped their weapons and fled in terror. Desperate cries and shouts filled the air as they ran, but most were not fast enough as one of the slaves, probably sprinting through rage alone usually tackled these men down.

As multiple slaves held their limbs down, others armed with knives aimed at their exposed flesh killind them . In this brutal manner, twelve soldiers fell to the ground, their swords , lances and daggers taken by thier killers, as some even took their chainmail and helmet as they followed Alpheo.

"Half of you, go to the eastern wall," he commanded, his voice ringing loud for everyone to hear . "The rest of you, to the western wall. We'll split our forces and take control of both sides."

His comrades nodded in understanding, their eyes filled with determination as they prepared to carry out his orders. Alpheo led the contingent heading towards the eastern wall, his steps quick and purposeful.He knew that if they were to have any chance of success, they needed to take control of the camp quickly and efficiently. With a steely resolve, he made his way towards the watchtowers.

Reaching the watchtower, Alpheo climbed the wooden steps with purpose, his heart pounding with anticipation, yet admist the running he failed to notice he was not alone . As once he entered the structure he noticed with the tail of his eye some movement near him. Sure enough one of the soldiers hiding behind the small wooden wall jumped on him branding a dagger.

Reacting swiftly, Alpheo's instincts kicked in. He managed to grab the soldier's wrist just in time, their bodies crashing to the wooden floor of the watchtower in a tangle of limbs. In the struggle, Alpheo lost his grip on his own weapon, leaving him unarmed against the assailant's deadly blade.

Despite the disadvantage, Alpheo held on , his fingers locked tightly around the soldier's wrist to prevent the dagger from finding its mark. The soldier, enraged by Alpheo's resistance, unleashed a flurry of punches in an attempt to break free, but Alpheo held firm, gritting his teeth against the pain.

Just as it seemed the soldier might overpower him, a sudden commotion erupted as the first of the rebel slaves reached the tower. With a swift kick, the newcomer sent the soldier sprawling, buying Alpheo the precious moment he needed. Without hesitation, the slaves plunged a dagger into the soldier's chest, putting an end to the threat once and for all.

Gasping for breath, Alpheo rose to his feet, his pulse still racing from the adrenaline-fueled encounter.

The slave who came to Alpheo's aid was rather young, his face marred by an ugly burn that twisted the skin at the side of his face. Despite the disfigurement, there was a fierce determination in his eyes, a rage that Alpheo knew very well.

"Thank you," Alph said, his voice filled with sincerity.

The young slave simply shook his head "No need to thank me," he replied, his voice tinged with bitterness. "You helped me escape . Now it's my turn to repay the debt."

He recognized him, he was a slave sitting in the same cell as him during the escape. 'Good thing then that he was with me ' He thought as he rose from the wooden floor.He had no time to ask for his name, though he memorised his face. Alpheo was someone who always believed in paying back favors tenfold, and he would certainly not forget him.

Almost immediately , more and more slaves poured into the watchtowers, thier skins washed in sweat as they runned toward the walls .

With a collective roar, the rebels launched themselves at the soldiers who made their last stand atop the wooden wall. The clash of weapons and bodies echoed through the air, mingling with the shouts and screams of the combatants. In the confined space of the watchtower, there was nowhere to hide, no room for retreat. It was a fight to the death, a desperate struggle for freedom against overwhelming odds.

With each passing minute, the onslaught of the slaves claimed more and more soldiers. Their bodies, now laying broken and lifeless on the sandy ground below. Each death was marked by a spray of blood, splattering across the sand like a twisted painting.

One by one, the soldiers met their end in a variety of gruesome ways. Some had their chests pierced by sharp blades, others were opened up at the throat, their blood spilling out onto the ground. Some were struck with crushing blows to the head from heavy urns or pots, their skulls cracking under the force before being pushed out of the way, and while the fall was not high enough to kill them, it was certainly high enough to break their legs.

As the battle raged on and bodies continued to pile up, it seemed as though there would be no end in sight. But finally, after what felt like an eternity, the last of the soldiers fell to the ground. The watchtower stood silent and still, its once mighty defenders vanquished.

.And then breaking the silence was one single cheer, followed by another and then another , until each man erupted in shouts of glee as they realized that they had won, they were alive and breathing. The hard part was over; it was time to loot the camp and escape.