In these troubled time this scene seems appropriate. I actually wrote it almost a year ago.
It shows the uglier side of the empire. And it leads to a question that still haunts me "Why do people do such things to fellow human beings?" ***************************** The place was located a long way outside thecity. Considering how popular the product it made was the place should becloser. But it was banned from being any closer than five miles from the citylimits. As they got closer he understood VERY clearly why. Bitt could smell it long before theyactually reached it. He and his contubernium had been descending the road downtowards the shore. At first the breeze had been at their back. But then it shiftedaround and the wind came into their faces. And with it was a terrible smell. Amix of rotting fish and festering sewage that was so strong that it made himgag. “What is that smell?” He managed. Trying notto throw up. Bitt took out a bandana and wrapped itaround his muzzle, being sure to cover his nose. That cut back the stench tosomething reasonably tolerable. “That is garum,” the hound commented. “What?” The fox asked. “You mean that saucethe Imperials like on everything?” “Yes,” Eteiwi answered. “Don’t you knowanything about it?” “No,” Bitt answered honestly. “It’s made by dumping fish guts into a largetank and letting them rot for a few months till it all turns into a pastyliquid,” the leopard responded. “What did we do to draw this task thistime?” Philippus asked. The fennec already had a scarf wrapped around his noseto try and block out the smell. “Because Tiberius Ulpius Gavrus is thecousin of the governor,” Vinius responded. “I will keep our time here down to aminimum,” Tribune Septimus Vitelliuscommented. The oryx was leading the small unit. If the smell bothered him hedidn’t show it. The road leveled out and ended at largewooden gate built into a stone wall. A scruffy looking badger stood guard atthe gate dressed in dirty gray tunic and carrying a spear. Bitt noticed thespear was just a long wooden pole with one end sharpened. Not even a metalhead. Technically it was a spear but without a metal spear point it was uselessfor anything but hunting. The wood point would snap easily against legionarmor. Or armor of any sort. Still it was probably good enough to scare aservant or chase off some feral wildlife. The guard turned and knocked on the gatebehind him. The door opened briefly and then closed again. He turned to thelegionnaires. “Please wait. The Master will be here shortly.” After several long minutes of waiting thegate opened and the owner; Tiberius Ulpius Gavrus stepped out. He was a tall,corpulent mongoose dressed in an expensive, blue toga. There were gold andsilver rings on his fingers and in his ears. “You are finally here!” themongoose said in way of greeting. With him was an ermine dressed in decentclothing but still looking worn. The tribune saluted by placing his righthand over his heart and bowing. “Good morning Sir Gavrus. I am Tribune SeptimusVitellius.” “Thank you for coming,” the mongooseresponded and bowed. “It’s a pleasure to be here and to help,”the tribune lied but showing sincerity. “This is my supervisor Gallio,” the mongoosesaid and pointed to his companion. “Come inside and I’ll show you my fineplace.” The guard stood aside and the gate openedwide. The group made its way through the open gate and into the area beyond.With each step the smell grew stronger and stronger. “And this is where we make the Garum,”Tiberius said proudly. Bitt felt his stomach start to heave and heleaned against a wall. The area was a series of platforms roughlycut into the hillside. In the middle of the area was a score of large vatscarved into the stone of the hillside. Each vat was filled with a brownish foul-smellingliquid from which the smell was the worst. It was powerful enough that Bitt hadto step back as he fought the bile rising up in his throat. Off to one sidesteps carved into the hillside led upward to a mansion that stood at the top. “I make the finest garum in the prefecture,”the mongoose boasted. “It’s enjoyed by the finest diners and the noble feasts.” “Eat it? People eat that?” the foxexclaimed. “I don’t even want to be downwind of it. Why would I want to eatit?” The hyena shrugged. “The Imperials love it!” Bitt noticed the workers for the first time.They were males and females of many different species and ages. All of themwere dirty, thin and worn. They were dressed in ragged and filthy clothes. Theydidn’t seem to notice the foul smell. “Someone has been sneaking in and stealingmy finished sauce and property,” the mongoose snarled.” And they have destroyedat least three of my buildings. Burnt them down to the ground.” “Who?” the legate asked. The mongoose shrugged in response. “I’venever caught them.” Bitt felt a shiver run down his spine and heturned around suddenly. He spotted one of the slaves staring at something. Thedog was glaring at something with a look of undisguised hatred. Bitt followedthe dog’s gaze and found the foreman. When the slave realized that Bitt waslooking at him the anger and hatred vanished. Replaced by the calm and sullenlook of a cowed slave. “Never?” The legate asked. “No,” the foreman responded. “They strike inthe middle of the night.” Bitt thought back to that slave. Thehostility and anger he had seen. That was the anger of a person beaten down andimprisoned. Forced to work at the most disgusting tasks imaginable. He realizedthat there were no bandits or raiders. The damage and thefts were caused by theslaves gaining a measure of revenge. Justice. And stealing to resell or tradefor food. “We’ll discuss this in private,” themongoose said smoothly and pointed up hill. Looking in the direction the owner hadpointed he saw a good-sized palace on the crest of the hill. Located far abovethe stench. “I have refreshments waiting,” Gavrus added. The legate turned to the decanus. “Patrolthe area. Report back to me on what you see.” “Yes sir,” the hound responded and saluted. Vinius waited till the legate and themongoose were out of hearing range before speaking. “So,” the hound saidslowly. “What do you think of this place?” “I’ve never smelled anything so horrible inmy life,” Bitt commented. “Not even when the sewage tunnel overflowed with thespring melt.” “You’ve been here before?” Bitt asked. “Iheard someone mention again.” “Gavrus complains every few weeks,” thehound explained. “So the commander sends a contubernium to keep him satisfied.Spread out a little and let’s patrol.” The facility was pretty simple. Just twentylarge tanks carved into the stone. There was no roof or canopy over the area.So the slaves worked all day out in the hot sun. There wasn’t even a decentplace for them to sit down and rest. Steps lead down to simple, wooden pierthat was empty at the moment. Next to the pier was a large shed made of stonewith a large, stout door made of thick wood. Bitt opened the door and found the interiorwas lined with shelves. Low boarding lined the floor keeping large sacks offthe ground. What’s in here?” Rolozius peered inside. “The salt and spicesused in making the garum.” Set across from the shed were two, smallhuts. Bitt stepped to the doorway of one and peered inside. There was no realfurniture just piles of cloth and rags scattered about. The walls were ofstones just piled up and roofed over with palm fronds, scraps of wood and evena large piece of (very) worn clothe. He realized with a shiver that those werewhere the slaves slept at night. They didn’t even have the simple pleasure of adecent place to rest. Their latrine was a tiny, outhouse that smelled evenworse than the garum tanks. If that was possible. The conditions for the slaves were terrible.What was truly horrible was the ever-present stench. There was no escaping it.It was everywhere filling their nostrils and making them gag. The place wherethey stored the supplies was far better than these hovels.
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