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“Soldiers, up!” the centurion shouted, striking the end of his walking stick against the stone floor. Immediately, the whole group of soldiers jumped to their feet, jutted their shoulders back, and heads high.
The centurion began pacing up and down the line of soldiers, watching their expressions closely. Jasper’s eyes followed him with a smug expression on his face. The centurion saw him and began to approach him, squinting as though he were reading very small writing on Jasper’s face. He approached him cautiously as if trying not to wake him, and continued to stare at him with mock curiosity. As soon as he was within whispering distance, he lifted his staff and brought it down across his legs, hard. Jasper fell to the ground, more from shock than from the force of the blow.
With a knowing smile, the centurion walked on as if nothing had happened.
“Cornelius!”
Jasper heard his family name being called by the centurion, as he was working on throwing the javelin. His hand halted in mid-throw, and he pulled back, turning to face the officer. Unfortunately, he failed to salute, and the staff came down upon his left upper-arm, almost immediately creating a bruise.
The centurion smiled and pressed the end of the staff against his neck, as though it were a sword.
“Have you no respect for our great empire, Cornelius?” the commanding officer demanded, the smile already gone from his face.
“Yes, sir, I do--”
The commander’s staff interrupted him, hitting him on the arm in the exact spot as before, increasing the pain in that area, and causing the fallen soldier to wince hard.
“Did I give you permission to answer me, soldier?” the officer sneered, glaring at him with intimidating eyes. Jasper set his jaw in indignation, and stared up at the officer without hesitation.
“I don’t like you, Cornelius. I really don’t like you. You have the attitude of a rebellious slave, so like a slave you will be punished.”
The officer turned to his optio.
“Have him lashed. Return him to me when he is broken, and not until he is broken. Is that understood?”
The optio saluted and declared that it was, indeed, clear. Two of the garrison guards took hold of his arms and dragged him out of the practice field, to the courtyard. In the corner of the courtyard was a large wooden post, and just seeing it, made most soldiers succumb. But this was not so with Jasper. His eyes burned with rage as the guards roughly tossed him against the pole, grabbing his arms and jerking them upward, tying them with rope to keep him from getting away.
It took until sunset for the soldier to be broken, but the officer refused to let him rest until he was convinced of his trampled willpower. Once the centurion was satisfied with his punishment, Jasper was carried back to his bed mat and laid on it, for he could not walk on his own.
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