Historical Article: The Watchman
Pietro made a clicking noise and nudged the donkey in the sides with his boots. The animal brayed and lurched forward, Pietro holding on precariously. The same stable boy who had laughed before chuckled again as he handed Pietro a torchlight, then caught himself and covered his mouth.
“We’re having a long discussion when I return, boy,” shouted Pietro as he rode skittishly out of the stables. The boy frowned and kicked a rock, then began running with a group of other grooms and older men to his designated spot underground. As Pietro left the gates of the monastery, he could hear what sounded like thunder. As he instinctively looked up into the blackened night sky, two fireballs flew wildly overhead, bathing the street below in dim orange light. Armed, armored men were running down the narrow street towards the city walls, their armor noisily clanging all the way.
It was worse than Pietro had originally thought…the Eastern forces had used Greek fire before, but he could not recall such a bombardment overnight. Ravenna would be in chaos after a few projectiles landed in the wrong spots. With any luck the defense crews would be ready, not just with arms but with water and sand for firefighting as well. Pietro silently prayed that at least some of the crews would have taken his warnings in the past seriously. True to his nature though, he rode towards his first site expecting the worst.
Riding haphazardly through the darkened alleys and streets that he knew so well, Pietro arrived at the Baptistry of Neon. He had helped to finally complete the ornate Christian structure over 40 years prior, resplendent in its mosaics and artifacts. Pietro looked around for defenders, but only a dog welcomed him, barking nervously. The Baptistry was built from brick, so the fire danger was not particularly great unless it was hit directly. The mangy dog was beginning to make Pietro’s donkey nervous, so he cursed and rode on to his next self-assigned site. He would make it a point to find those responsible for the Baptistry’s defense in the morning.
Riding on, more incendiaries flew overhead, lighting up the darkened streets once more. Men were shouting in the distance, and Pietro could hear the clanging of metal and the rumble of some structure collapsing. He prayed it was not the next site on his list. His fears were set aside as a cross-shaped building came into view, complete with its guard. The men outside the Mausoleum of Galla Placidia hailed him as he approached.
“Father! We have the Lord on our side this night!” shouted the captain. He pointed at a burning building about 25 yards away, a shop front or workshop of some sort. “The crash was terrific. Happened only a few minutes ago, Father, right before you rode up!”
“Do you have water and sand ready?” Pietro inquired.
“Yes Father, we’ve a full trough of water in the back and I have some men getting a wagonload of sand right now.”
“Good, stand lively then. If this gets any worse, forget about fighting fires and defend the mosaics from any comers. Keep the Good Shepard intact at all costs.”
“Yes, Father, of course!” The Good Shepard was a very ornate blue and gold mosaic within Galla Placidia, one of the centerpieces of the beautiful structure.
Feeling confident in the captain, Pietro rode on past the burning shop to his next site, the Arian Baptistry.
)
|
