Podcasts about rhodian

Based on the work of Robyn Bee, In 7 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at Connected.The streets had been quiet as we’d passed, oddly subdued. The few people we saw had quickly ducked out of our way, though we were in our tunicae and sandals.Kostas’ place, I was happy to see, was lively. Drunken soldiers weren’t spilling out of the place, but there was enough of a crowd that we had to push our way past a few people. I led Helena to the back, where crusty old Kostas scowled from behind his bar.“Kostas,” I said, leaning against the bar. “I promised this Rhodian lady some pitaroudia. Are you going to disappoint her?”“Rhodian?” He said, suddenly a lot less grouchy looking.“From Lindos,” Helena said.We chatted for a bit, swapping the latest bit of island news that we had while Kostas poured us a couple of flagons of dark wine. The food would be ready in a few minutes, he told us.“She’s paying,” I said, when I spotted Kostas’ young son.The kid was coming back with an empty drink tray. I hooked him by the arm, leading him away. I put a silver coin in his hand, promising him another if he’d fetch something for me.Helena looked at me curiously, but I kept my mouth shut against her silent question.“Centenarius!” I heard a voice call. “Leontius!”I turned, already feeling a grin stretching my features. At a nearby table, five men were waving towards me. They wore happy smiles, their cheeks rosy with wine.“Sergius! You old bastard! What the hell are you doing here?”Sergius, a crusty old stratiotai with more scars on him than most had years, made a show of cupping one ear.“Can’t hear you so good, sir! Come here and whisper it to me.”The men at his table laughed. I did too, shaking my head.“Friends of yours?” Helena asked.“Men from my old cohort,” I said. “Come on, I’ll introduce you.”Helena’s body tightened. I saw that same expression flash across her features. Resignation? Consternation? I wasn’t sure. Even here, away from the dark street, I wasn’t sure exactly what I’d seen. It was gone too fast.“Sure,” she said, stepping forward and forcing me to move after her.The men rose to meet me, and I greeted each with a rough embrace and a few rougher words. Sergius, Gratian, Suda, Maurice and Niketas; as good a squad of stratiotai that had ever served in Justinian’s legions.“Boys, this is Helena,” I said as we sat in the chairs pulled over for us. “My shield mate. She guards the Empress with me.”Sergius blinked. Maurice choked on his wine while Suda and Niketas glanced at each other in disbelief. Helena, however, seemed to loosen. Her gaze flicked to me, and I saw the faint crinkle of something disappear from the corners of her eyes.Gratian, horse’s ass that he was, guffawed.“Come on, Centenarius,” he said. He was seated on Helena’s other side, and took the opportunity to drape one arm around her shoulders. “You can’t expect us to believe that sweet little thing fights beside you?”Whatever else I could say about Gratian, and there was a lot, I couldn’t fault his eye.Helena was in her tunica, cut in the same simple, utilitarian shape as my own. It was loose, ending just above her knees and doing nothing to accentuate the feminine curves of her body. However, unlike the wrinkled, slightly stained pale gray of my tunica, hers had been dyed a deep green.It was near to the cypress of her eyes. It made them appear brighter, and more vivid than I’d ever seen them. The green brought out the copper of her hair, deepening it and adding layers to those tumbling waves.She was beautiful; the field of grass after rain.“You think I’m sweet?” Helena said, lips curling into a small smile.“Sweet enough to eat,” he said. His eyes roved up and down her body. “How much?”Helena stayed relaxed. That small smile never left her lips.“I’m good, too.” Gratian insisted. “You’ll see. My phallus’s so good that you should be the one paying me!”He snickered through his leering grin. I shook my head when Sergius opened his mouth to interfere. Although I needn’t have. Because, an instant later, Helena’s fist crunched into Gratian’s throat.He gagged, falling backwards, his chair crashing to the ground. The tavern fell silent, all eyes on Helena as she slowly stood. Helena’s eyes swept the room. There was a heartbeat of silence, and then two. Her lip suddenly quirked.“Nobody touches before they pay.”The room exploded with laughter, covering the sound of Gratian’s moaning. Helena sat back down, while I moved to help the man pick himself off the floor.“I’ll kill her,” he choked. “I’ll fucking kill that bitch.”“Shut up,” I said, loud enough for the others to hear. “She’d gut you like a fish. And I’d cut off whatever bits my shield mate left of you.”I pulled him up, and made a show of checking him over. I hissed into his ear. “You stupid bastard. Helena’s the Empress’ personal guard. Do you want your head to the decorate palace walls?”Gratian’s face blanched. He started to stammer something but I pushed him away. “I told you to shut the fuck up. Go get us some more wine.”“Whatever Kostas hasn’t pissed in for me,” Helena called.Sergius grin was wide. “Good punch, that. It's the only way to get him to shut his hole.”“Aye,” Niketas said, draining his cup. He burped. “Finally, some fucking peace.”“Centenarius,” Maurice said, leaning forward. “No offense to your lady, but a shield mate? Are you sure about this?”“This lady,” Helena said. “Can speak for herself. Look me in the eyes and tell me what you mean.”Maurice complied. “You’re a woman. You’re real pretty, I’ll give you that, but you don’t know what this means.”“I don’t need a phallus to piss standing up. Why would I need one to hold up a shield?”Maurice smirked. “Cute. But it's more than that, it's,”"Wait, you can piss standing up?” Gratian interrupted, returning with two clay pitchers of wine. “Seriously?”The others groaned.“That wasn’t the point, Grat,” Suda said. “Although, now I am a bit curious,”"It's easy,” Helena said, throwing him a wink. “And I guarantee that I can piss better than Grat fucks.”Laughter rolled around the table. Even Gratian snickered, though heat crawled up his face. He started pouring the wine, filling Helena’s cup and then mine.“So, what the hell are you talking about, then?”“If she can really be Leo’s shield mate,” Maurice said. “If she can fight.”“She knows what it means, Maur,” I said. “She’s good, too. Fast. And she’s got some sense, unlike you thick-headed bastards.”“Good enough for me,” Sergius said. “What do you say boys, we gonna keep her around?”“Let's drink!” Niketas said, grabbing his cup.Sergius banged the table, hoisting his own cup into the air. “To Helena!”“Helena!” We roared, slamming our empty cups down a few moments later.Helena joined in, her smile wide and her cheeks flushed a happy red. Our pitaroudia arrived, and we fell to bickering over the platter of fried balls. They were delicious; tomato, onion and bits of a leafy herb mixed into a patty of ground chickpea.These were rough men that lived rough lives. They were soldiers; killers that earned their coin in the grinding crush of the shield wall. They respected a foul mouth, a hard fist and loyalty to one’s brothers.They were stratiotai.And when Helena clacked her cup with a still sheepish looking Gratian; I saw them start to think of her as one too.“Leo never told me that he was a Centenarius,” Helena eventually said.I snorted. “That’s because I’m not. These idiots just call me that.”“The crest on the helmet don’t make the Centenarius,” Suda drawled. “Ain’t that right, Serg?”“You’re damned right about that, lad,” the older man replied. “Some wise words there.”I rolled my eyes, the rest of the boys snickering into their cups. Sergius liked to share whatever kernels of wisdom popped into his head. We’d all heard this particular one a hundred times already.“We call him that because of Callinicum,” Sergius continued, answering Helena’s question.“Ah,” she said. “You were all there?”Sergius nodded, “and my bones would be decorating some Persian’s trophy shelf if it wasn’t for the Centenarius here. All of ours would.”The mood sobered, each of us remembering. I looked down to my hands; seeing the flecks of old, old blood beneath my fingernails. The ones I could never seem to clean.“Was it bad?” Helena asked.“Aye,” Sergius answered. “The old Centenarius was a right stupid prick. He got himself killed in the first charge of the Sassanid horsemen. Leontius here took over after that. Things were real shaky for a bit, but he kept us from scattering and being cut to pieces. And when the general decided he’d had enough of watching us die, Leo got us retreating.”Nobody spoke for a while, memories holding us. Some of us put wine to our lips. I just stared out at nothing with unfocused eyes. The mood remained dark until Gratian, bless his fool soul, blurted out;“Fuck, but Centenarius Demetrius was a prick.”That brought out a few chuckles. Niketas let out another burp, and Maurice swatted the back of his head. Most of us felt lighter after that. It didn’t do any good to dwell on the past. The things we’d done, the friends we’d lost, It wasn’t good to remember. Stratiotai had to live for the moment.Maybe that was why I’d always been such a terrible soldier.Midnight guard duty.It was approaching midnight when Sergius hauled himself to his feet. He blinked bleary eyes, motioning to the others.“Right boys, we’ve got patrol in the morning. Let’s get moving.”The men swallowed their last mouthfuls of wine, said their goodbyes and stumbled away with various levels of coordination.Sergius watched them go with a shake of his head. He riffled through a pouch at his side for a moment before turning back to me.“I’ve got something for you here, Centenarius. It got to the barracks a week or so ago.”He held a folded envelope out towards me. It had my name on it, written out in my mother’s blocky hand. I snatched it from him, quickly stuffing it away and out of sight. I didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to ruin this night.“It was good to see you, Leo,” Sergius said. He pulled me to my feet, and pounded my back in a rough embrace. “Don’t forget about us rankers while you’re dining with nobles.”“Take care of yourself, Serg,” I said, returning his embrace. “And, thank you.”“We’re on garrison duty,” the old soldier grinned. “What’s going to happen in the capital?”Sergius surprised Helena by pulling her into a hug next. “Keep your shield tight to his. Our Centenarius always seems to be around when shit is the deepest.”“I’ll keep him the sword from his back,” Helena said. “Though, it might loosen him up a bit.”The older man laughed. “It was good to meet you, lass. And remember, you’ve got a brother in old Sergius.” With a last little wave, he ambled out and into the deepening night.“You were right,” Helena said, settling back. She popped the last of the pitaroudia in her mouth. “This is a great place.”“Even with Grat here?” I asked with a smile.“Even still,” she said, her lips curling upward. She put her elbow on the table, leaning her heads against her palm. “I’m happy that you introduced me to your friends. I didn’t think it would be this, nice.”“It was,” I said. I shifted in my seat, wanting to move my chair closer to her. But the movement jostled the letter in my pocket. Suddenly, my mother’s words weighed more than a boulder. I shifted again, an awkward jerk of my body that accomplished nothing.Helena’s smile softened. She took pity on me, scooting over until her leg pressed against mine. I let out a breath, leaning back in my chair. We sat in silence for a while. I closed my eyes, enjoying the warmth, and the quiet murmur of the few remaining patrons.“This was always my favorite part,” I said, after a while. I opened my eyes to find Helena watching me, waiting for me to continue.“A place like this,” I said. “With the others; once the campaigns done. It’s,”I trailed off, trying to order my thoughts. How could I explain this to someone who’d never been to war? How did I tell her of the constant tension; of the anxious expectation that came with knowing that somewhere, beyond the light of your campfire, someone wanted you dead.Kill or be killed; there was none of that here. I could drink with my friends, without wondering which of them I would lose. Or what I would have to do.It was just; "different,” I finished.Helena didn’t laugh. She didn’t smile or tease. She just watched me with eyes that took in so much of me. I caught a glimpse of it; the edge that wondrous vastness behind her cypress gaze. She leaned into me, resting her head against my shoulder and letting out a long breath.“Different,” she said. “I like that.”My eyes suddenly prickled. I blinked furiously, trying to clear the wetness seeping into them. I turned, leaning my chin against her hair; breathing in the scent of her. I shifted my arm to pull her closer, my mother’s letter forgotten.“Leo,” she said. “What would you do if you weren’t a soldier?”“I, I don’t know,” I said. “I’ve always been a soldier.”“But could you do it for ten more years?”“What else would I do? My father was stratiotai, and his father and his father. I don’t know anything else.”Helena shifted against my shoulder, her hair tickling my neck.“What was your plan once you retired?”I bobbed my shoulders in a small shrug, careful not to disturb her. “Go back to Rhodos. My mother is a seamstress. I’d help her run the shop.”“And marry a ‘good’ woman?” She said, her tone edged with mocking.I didn’t answer, though I tightened my grip on Helena. For a heartbeat, her body was stiff. Then, she let out another long breath, relaxing against me.“What about something like this?” She asked, gesturing around us. “A tavern.”“Running a Winehouse?”She pushed off of me, suddenly more animated. “Why not? You could open a soldier’s tavern on Rhodos; make a place for old stratiotai.”“A peaceful place,” I murmured.“Exactly!” She grinned. “It's a good idea, right?”“I’d have to learn how to make pitaroudia,” I said, feeling a smile tug at my lips.“I’m sure Kostas will give you his recipe.”I laughed. “I’m a solider, Helena, not a cook. I think I even burned water once.”“You are a soldier,” she said. Her eyes held mine. “But you can be something else.”I looked away, swallowing.“You’ll think about it?”“Sure,” I forced some lightness into my tone. “But only if you promise that you’d go out and catch fish for me every day.”Helena stiffened, her face suddenly bright red. Not the reaction I’d been expecting. Her eyes flicked over my face, searching. “You don’t think I’d be better as the cook? Or serving drinks?”“No,” I said, not having to force my smile. “You belong on the sea, right?”Her eyes were so wide. I felt my heart start to beat faster. That vastness, it was there, rising to the edge of her; on the verge of breaking through.“Leo,” she murmured. “I,”She was interrupted by the thump of a pouch onto our table. I looked over to find Kostas’ son standing by our table. The kid looked exhausted, but triumphant."You found what I asked for, then?” I said.He nodded, holding out a grubby hand.“Good man,” I grinned, flipping him a silver coin. He disappeared without another word. I quickly disengaged myself from Helena to put the lumpy, medium sized pouch away.“It's a surprise,” I told her. “For later.”She arched an eyebrow, but didn’t press me. She downed her last mouthful of wine, letting out a happy sigh. “We have to come back here.”I nodded, bringing my own wine to my lips.“It's nice to see that you can relax without my cunny in your mouth.”I choked, spraying out a mouthful of wine. Helena laughed, that deep, joy-filled sound. She pounded my back as I coughed myself hoarse. My face blazed, and I felt the eyes of everyone turn towards me.“Leo,” she said. “You’re defenseless.”I coughed, glaring at her through watery eyes.“Come on,” she said. “Let’s get back to the palace.”We walked out into the night, breathing in the city’s quiet. Although, it did not last long. We were but a handful of blocks from the Winehouse, when, out of the dark, we saw the fire.And heard the baying of the mob.A past shared with the Empress.The baying of the mob. The glow of fire.After a few moments of debate, Helena and I decided to move towards it. There were no screams of pain, no real sounds of violence coming from the streets ahead. We would see what there was, we decided, before returning to the Empress.We came into a square; one with a small, torch-lit church planted solidly at the northern end. A few squads of armored stratiotai, perhaps forty men, stood before the single door. They were imperial legionaries, though I did not recognize any of the grim-faced men. They all looked outward, swords drawn.Surrounding them, was the mob.The seething body of humanity was all around them. They totally filled the square; men, women, children. The old and the

Based on the work of Robyn Bee, In 7 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at Connected.The streets had been quiet as we’d passed, oddly subdued. The few people we saw had quickly ducked out of our way, though we were in our tunicae and sandals.Kostas’ place, I was happy to see, was lively. Drunken soldiers weren’t spilling out of the place, but there was enough of a crowd that we had to push our way past a few people. I led Helena to the back, where crusty old Kostas scowled from behind his bar.“Kostas,” I said, leaning against the bar. “I promised this Rhodian lady some pitaroudia. Are you going to disappoint her?”“Rhodian?” He said, suddenly a lot less grouchy looking.“From Lindos,” Helena said.We chatted for a bit, swapping the latest bit of island news that we had while Kostas poured us a couple of flagons of dark wine. The food would be ready in a few minutes, he told us.“She’s paying,” I said, when I spotted Kostas’ young son.The kid was coming back with an empty drink tray. I hooked him by the arm, leading him away. I put a silver coin in his hand, promising him another if he’d fetch something for me.Helena looked at me curiously, but I kept my mouth shut against her silent question.“Centenarius!” I heard a voice call. “Leontius!”I turned, already feeling a grin stretching my features. At a nearby table, five men were waving towards me. They wore happy smiles, their cheeks rosy with wine.“Sergius! You old bastard! What the hell are you doing here?”Sergius, a crusty old stratiotai with more scars on him than most had years, made a show of cupping one ear.“Can’t hear you so good, sir! Come here and whisper it to me.”The men at his table laughed. I did too, shaking my head.“Friends of yours?” Helena asked.“Men from my old cohort,” I said. “Come on, I’ll introduce you.”Helena’s body tightened. I saw that same expression flash across her features. Resignation? Consternation? I wasn’t sure. Even here, away from the dark street, I wasn’t sure exactly what I’d seen. It was gone too fast.“Sure,” she said, stepping forward and forcing me to move after her.The men rose to meet me, and I greeted each with a rough embrace and a few rougher words. Sergius, Gratian, Suda, Maurice and Niketas; as good a squad of stratiotai that had ever served in Justinian’s legions.“Boys, this is Helena,” I said as we sat in the chairs pulled over for us. “My shield mate. She guards the Empress with me.”Sergius blinked. Maurice choked on his wine while Suda and Niketas glanced at each other in disbelief. Helena, however, seemed to loosen. Her gaze flicked to me, and I saw the faint crinkle of something disappear from the corners of her eyes.Gratian, horse’s ass that he was, guffawed.“Come on, Centenarius,” he said. He was seated on Helena’s other side, and took the opportunity to drape one arm around her shoulders. “You can’t expect us to believe that sweet little thing fights beside you?”Whatever else I could say about Gratian, and there was a lot, I couldn’t fault his eye.Helena was in her tunica, cut in the same simple, utilitarian shape as my own. It was loose, ending just above her knees and doing nothing to accentuate the feminine curves of her body. However, unlike the wrinkled, slightly stained pale gray of my tunica, hers had been dyed a deep green.It was near to the cypress of her eyes. It made them appear brighter, and more vivid than I’d ever seen them. The green brought out the copper of her hair, deepening it and adding layers to those tumbling waves.She was beautiful; the field of grass after rain.“You think I’m sweet?” Helena said, lips curling into a small smile.“Sweet enough to eat,” he said. His eyes roved up and down her body. “How much?”Helena stayed relaxed. That small smile never left her lips.“I’m good, too.” Gratian insisted. “You’ll see. My phallus’s so good that you should be the one paying me!”He snickered through his leering grin. I shook my head when Sergius opened his mouth to interfere. Although I needn’t have. Because, an instant later, Helena’s fist crunched into Gratian’s throat.He gagged, falling backwards, his chair crashing to the ground. The tavern fell silent, all eyes on Helena as she slowly stood. Helena’s eyes swept the room. There was a heartbeat of silence, and then two. Her lip suddenly quirked.“Nobody touches before they pay.”The room exploded with laughter, covering the sound of Gratian’s moaning. Helena sat back down, while I moved to help the man pick himself off the floor.“I’ll kill her,” he choked. “I’ll fucking kill that bitch.”“Shut up,” I said, loud enough for the others to hear. “She’d gut you like a fish. And I’d cut off whatever bits my shield mate left of you.”I pulled him up, and made a show of checking him over. I hissed into his ear. “You stupid bastard. Helena’s the Empress’ personal guard. Do you want your head to the decorate palace walls?”Gratian’s face blanched. He started to stammer something but I pushed him away. “I told you to shut the fuck up. Go get us some more wine.”“Whatever Kostas hasn’t pissed in for me,” Helena called.Sergius grin was wide. “Good punch, that. It's the only way to get him to shut his hole.”“Aye,” Niketas said, draining his cup. He burped. “Finally, some fucking peace.”“Centenarius,” Maurice said, leaning forward. “No offense to your lady, but a shield mate? Are you sure about this?”“This lady,” Helena said. “Can speak for herself. Look me in the eyes and tell me what you mean.”Maurice complied. “You’re a woman. You’re real pretty, I’ll give you that, but you don’t know what this means.”“I don’t need a phallus to piss standing up. Why would I need one to hold up a shield?”Maurice smirked. “Cute. But it's more than that, it's,”"Wait, you can piss standing up?” Gratian interrupted, returning with two clay pitchers of wine. “Seriously?”The others groaned.“That wasn’t the point, Grat,” Suda said. “Although, now I am a bit curious,”"It's easy,” Helena said, throwing him a wink. “And I guarantee that I can piss better than Grat fucks.”Laughter rolled around the table. Even Gratian snickered, though heat crawled up his face. He started pouring the wine, filling Helena’s cup and then mine.“So, what the hell are you talking about, then?”“If she can really be Leo’s shield mate,” Maurice said. “If she can fight.”“She knows what it means, Maur,” I said. “She’s good, too. Fast. And she’s got some sense, unlike you thick-headed bastards.”“Good enough for me,” Sergius said. “What do you say boys, we gonna keep her around?”“Let's drink!” Niketas said, grabbing his cup.Sergius banged the table, hoisting his own cup into the air. “To Helena!”“Helena!” We roared, slamming our empty cups down a few moments later.Helena joined in, her smile wide and her cheeks flushed a happy red. Our pitaroudia arrived, and we fell to bickering over the platter of fried balls. They were delicious; tomato, onion and bits of a leafy herb mixed into a patty of ground chickpea.These were rough men that lived rough lives. They were soldiers; killers that earned their coin in the grinding crush of the shield wall. They respected a foul mouth, a hard fist and loyalty to one’s brothers.They were stratiotai.And when Helena clacked her cup with a still sheepish looking Gratian; I saw them start to think of her as one too.“Leo never told me that he was a Centenarius,” Helena eventually said.I snorted. “That’s because I’m not. These idiots just call me that.”“The crest on the helmet don’t make the Centenarius,” Suda drawled. “Ain’t that right, Serg?”“You’re damned right about that, lad,” the older man replied. “Some wise words there.”I rolled my eyes, the rest of the boys snickering into their cups. Sergius liked to share whatever kernels of wisdom popped into his head. We’d all heard this particular one a hundred times already.“We call him that because of Callinicum,” Sergius continued, answering Helena’s question.“Ah,” she said. “You were all there?”Sergius nodded, “and my bones would be decorating some Persian’s trophy shelf if it wasn’t for the Centenarius here. All of ours would.”The mood sobered, each of us remembering. I looked down to my hands; seeing the flecks of old, old blood beneath my fingernails. The ones I could never seem to clean.“Was it bad?” Helena asked.“Aye,” Sergius answered. “The old Centenarius was a right stupid prick. He got himself killed in the first charge of the Sassanid horsemen. Leontius here took over after that. Things were real shaky for a bit, but he kept us from scattering and being cut to pieces. And when the general decided he’d had enough of watching us die, Leo got us retreating.”Nobody spoke for a while, memories holding us. Some of us put wine to our lips. I just stared out at nothing with unfocused eyes. The mood remained dark until Gratian, bless his fool soul, blurted out;“Fuck, but Centenarius Demetrius was a prick.”That brought out a few chuckles. Niketas let out another burp, and Maurice swatted the back of his head. Most of us felt lighter after that. It didn’t do any good to dwell on the past. The things we’d done, the friends we’d lost, It wasn’t good to remember. Stratiotai had to live for the moment.Maybe that was why I’d always been such a terrible soldier.Midnight guard duty.It was approaching midnight when Sergius hauled himself to his feet. He blinked bleary eyes, motioning to the others.“Right boys, we’ve got patrol in the morning. Let’s get moving.”The men swallowed their last mouthfuls of wine, said their goodbyes and stumbled away with various levels of coordination.Sergius watched them go with a shake of his head. He riffled through a pouch at his side for a moment before turning back to me.“I’ve got something for you here, Centenarius. It got to the barracks a week or so ago.”He held a folded envelope out towards me. It had my name on it, written out in my mother’s blocky hand. I snatched it from him, quickly stuffing it away and out of sight. I didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to ruin this night.“It was good to see you, Leo,” Sergius said. He pulled me to my feet, and pounded my back in a rough embrace. “Don’t forget about us rankers while you’re dining with nobles.”“Take care of yourself, Serg,” I said, returning his embrace. “And, thank you.”“We’re on garrison duty,” the old soldier grinned. “What’s going to happen in the capital?”Sergius surprised Helena by pulling her into a hug next. “Keep your shield tight to his. Our Centenarius always seems to be around when shit is the deepest.”“I’ll keep him the sword from his back,” Helena said. “Though, it might loosen him up a bit.”The older man laughed. “It was good to meet you, lass. And remember, you’ve got a brother in old Sergius.” With a last little wave, he ambled out and into the deepening night.“You were right,” Helena said, settling back. She popped the last of the pitaroudia in her mouth. “This is a great place.”“Even with Grat here?” I asked with a smile.“Even still,” she said, her lips curling upward. She put her elbow on the table, leaning her heads against her palm. “I’m happy that you introduced me to your friends. I didn’t think it would be this, nice.”“It was,” I said. I shifted in my seat, wanting to move my chair closer to her. But the movement jostled the letter in my pocket. Suddenly, my mother’s words weighed more than a boulder. I shifted again, an awkward jerk of my body that accomplished nothing.Helena’s smile softened. She took pity on me, scooting over until her leg pressed against mine. I let out a breath, leaning back in my chair. We sat in silence for a while. I closed my eyes, enjoying the warmth, and the quiet murmur of the few remaining patrons.“This was always my favorite part,” I said, after a while. I opened my eyes to find Helena watching me, waiting for me to continue.“A place like this,” I said. “With the others; once the campaigns done. It’s,”I trailed off, trying to order my thoughts. How could I explain this to someone who’d never been to war? How did I tell her of the constant tension; of the anxious expectation that came with knowing that somewhere, beyond the light of your campfire, someone wanted you dead.Kill or be killed; there was none of that here. I could drink with my friends, without wondering which of them I would lose. Or what I would have to do.It was just; "different,” I finished.Helena didn’t laugh. She didn’t smile or tease. She just watched me with eyes that took in so much of me. I caught a glimpse of it; the edge that wondrous vastness behind her cypress gaze. She leaned into me, resting her head against my shoulder and letting out a long breath.“Different,” she said. “I like that.”My eyes suddenly prickled. I blinked furiously, trying to clear the wetness seeping into them. I turned, leaning my chin against her hair; breathing in the scent of her. I shifted my arm to pull her closer, my mother’s letter forgotten.“Leo,” she said. “What would you do if you weren’t a soldier?”“I, I don’t know,” I said. “I’ve always been a soldier.”“But could you do it for ten more years?”“What else would I do? My father was stratiotai, and his father and his father. I don’t know anything else.”Helena shifted against my shoulder, her hair tickling my neck.“What was your plan once you retired?”I bobbed my shoulders in a small shrug, careful not to disturb her. “Go back to Rhodos. My mother is a seamstress. I’d help her run the shop.”“And marry a ‘good’ woman?” She said, her tone edged with mocking.I didn’t answer, though I tightened my grip on Helena. For a heartbeat, her body was stiff. Then, she let out another long breath, relaxing against me.“What about something like this?” She asked, gesturing around us. “A tavern.”“Running a Winehouse?”She pushed off of me, suddenly more animated. “Why not? You could open a soldier’s tavern on Rhodos; make a place for old stratiotai.”“A peaceful place,” I murmured.“Exactly!” She grinned. “It's a good idea, right?”“I’d have to learn how to make pitaroudia,” I said, feeling a smile tug at my lips.“I’m sure Kostas will give you his recipe.”I laughed. “I’m a solider, Helena, not a cook. I think I even burned water once.”“You are a soldier,” she said. Her eyes held mine. “But you can be something else.”I looked away, swallowing.“You’ll think about it?”“Sure,” I forced some lightness into my tone. “But only if you promise that you’d go out and catch fish for me every day.”Helena stiffened, her face suddenly bright red. Not the reaction I’d been expecting. Her eyes flicked over my face, searching. “You don’t think I’d be better as the cook? Or serving drinks?”“No,” I said, not having to force my smile. “You belong on the sea, right?”Her eyes were so wide. I felt my heart start to beat faster. That vastness, it was there, rising to the edge of her; on the verge of breaking through.“Leo,” she murmured. “I,”She was interrupted by the thump of a pouch onto our table. I looked over to find Kostas’ son standing by our table. The kid looked exhausted, but triumphant."You found what I asked for, then?” I said.He nodded, holding out a grubby hand.“Good man,” I grinned, flipping him a silver coin. He disappeared without another word. I quickly disengaged myself from Helena to put the lumpy, medium sized pouch away.“It's a surprise,” I told her. “For later.”She arched an eyebrow, but didn’t press me. She downed her last mouthful of wine, letting out a happy sigh. “We have to come back here.”I nodded, bringing my own wine to my lips.“It's nice to see that you can relax without my cunny in your mouth.”I choked, spraying out a mouthful of wine. Helena laughed, that deep, joy-filled sound. She pounded my back as I coughed myself hoarse. My face blazed, and I felt the eyes of everyone turn towards me.“Leo,” she said. “You’re defenseless.”I coughed, glaring at her through watery eyes.“Come on,” she said. “Let’s get back to the palace.”We walked out into the night, breathing in the city’s quiet. Although, it did not last long. We were but a handful of blocks from the Winehouse, when, out of the dark, we saw the fire.And heard the baying of the mob.A past shared with the Empress.The baying of the mob. The glow of fire.After a few moments of debate, Helena and I decided to move towards it. There were no screams of pain, no real sounds of violence coming from the streets ahead. We would see what there was, we decided, before returning to the Empress.We came into a square; one with a small, torch-lit church planted solidly at the northern end. A few squads of armored stratiotai, perhaps forty men, stood before the single door. They were imperial legionaries, though I did not recognize any of the grim-faced men. They all looked outward, swords drawn.Surrounding them, was the mob.The seething body of humanity was all around them. They totally filled the square; men, women, children. The old and the

Based on the work of Robyn Bee, In 7 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at Connected.The streets had been quiet as we’d passed, oddly subdued. The few people we saw had quickly ducked out of our way, though we were in our tunicae and sandals.Kostas’ place, I was happy to see, was lively. Drunken soldiers weren’t spilling out of the place, but there was enough of a crowd that we had to push our way past a few people. I led Helena to the back, where crusty old Kostas scowled from behind his bar.“Kostas,” I said, leaning against the bar. “I promised this Rhodian lady some pitaroudia. Are you going to disappoint her?”“Rhodian?” He said, suddenly a lot less grouchy looking.“From Lindos,” Helena said.We chatted for a bit, swapping the latest bit of island news that we had while Kostas poured us a couple of flagons of dark wine. The food would be ready in a few minutes, he told us.“She’s paying,” I said, when I spotted Kostas’ young son.The kid was coming back with an empty drink tray. I hooked him by the arm, leading him away. I put a silver coin in his hand, promising him another if he’d fetch something for me.Helena looked at me curiously, but I kept my mouth shut against her silent question.“Centenarius!” I heard a voice call. “Leontius!”I turned, already feeling a grin stretching my features. At a nearby table, five men were waving towards me. They wore happy smiles, their cheeks rosy with wine.“Sergius! You old bastard! What the hell are you doing here?”Sergius, a crusty old stratiotai with more scars on him than most had years, made a show of cupping one ear.“Can’t hear you so good, sir! Come here and whisper it to me.”The men at his table laughed. I did too, shaking my head.“Friends of yours?” Helena asked.“Men from my old cohort,” I said. “Come on, I’ll introduce you.”Helena’s body tightened. I saw that same expression flash across her features. Resignation? Consternation? I wasn’t sure. Even here, away from the dark street, I wasn’t sure exactly what I’d seen. It was gone too fast.“Sure,” she said, stepping forward and forcing me to move after her.The men rose to meet me, and I greeted each with a rough embrace and a few rougher words. Sergius, Gratian, Suda, Maurice and Niketas; as good a squad of stratiotai that had ever served in Justinian’s legions.“Boys, this is Helena,” I said as we sat in the chairs pulled over for us. “My shield mate. She guards the Empress with me.”Sergius blinked. Maurice choked on his wine while Suda and Niketas glanced at each other in disbelief. Helena, however, seemed to loosen. Her gaze flicked to me, and I saw the faint crinkle of something disappear from the corners of her eyes.Gratian, horse’s ass that he was, guffawed.“Come on, Centenarius,” he said. He was seated on Helena’s other side, and took the opportunity to drape one arm around her shoulders. “You can’t expect us to believe that sweet little thing fights beside you?”Whatever else I could say about Gratian, and there was a lot, I couldn’t fault his eye.Helena was in her tunica, cut in the same simple, utilitarian shape as my own. It was loose, ending just above her knees and doing nothing to accentuate the feminine curves of her body. However, unlike the wrinkled, slightly stained pale gray of my tunica, hers had been dyed a deep green.It was near to the cypress of her eyes. It made them appear brighter, and more vivid than I’d ever seen them. The green brought out the copper of her hair, deepening it and adding layers to those tumbling waves.She was beautiful; the field of grass after rain.“You think I’m sweet?” Helena said, lips curling into a small smile.“Sweet enough to eat,” he said. His eyes roved up and down her body. “How much?”Helena stayed relaxed. That small smile never left her lips.“I’m good, too.” Gratian insisted. “You’ll see. My phallus’s so good that you should be the one paying me!”He snickered through his leering grin. I shook my head when Sergius opened his mouth to interfere. Although I needn’t have. Because, an instant later, Helena’s fist crunched into Gratian’s throat.He gagged, falling backwards, his chair crashing to the ground. The tavern fell silent, all eyes on Helena as she slowly stood. Helena’s eyes swept the room. There was a heartbeat of silence, and then two. Her lip suddenly quirked.“Nobody touches before they pay.”The room exploded with laughter, covering the sound of Gratian’s moaning. Helena sat back down, while I moved to help the man pick himself off the floor.“I’ll kill her,” he choked. “I’ll fucking kill that bitch.”“Shut up,” I said, loud enough for the others to hear. “She’d gut you like a fish. And I’d cut off whatever bits my shield mate left of you.”I pulled him up, and made a show of checking him over. I hissed into his ear. “You stupid bastard. Helena’s the Empress’ personal guard. Do you want your head to the decorate palace walls?”Gratian’s face blanched. He started to stammer something but I pushed him away. “I told you to shut the fuck up. Go get us some more wine.”“Whatever Kostas hasn’t pissed in for me,” Helena called.Sergius grin was wide. “Good punch, that. It's the only way to get him to shut his hole.”“Aye,” Niketas said, draining his cup. He burped. “Finally, some fucking peace.”“Centenarius,” Maurice said, leaning forward. “No offense to your lady, but a shield mate? Are you sure about this?”“This lady,” Helena said. “Can speak for herself. Look me in the eyes and tell me what you mean.”Maurice complied. “You’re a woman. You’re real pretty, I’ll give you that, but you don’t know what this means.”“I don’t need a phallus to piss standing up. Why would I need one to hold up a shield?”Maurice smirked. “Cute. But it's more than that, it's,”"Wait, you can piss standing up?” Gratian interrupted, returning with two clay pitchers of wine. “Seriously?”The others groaned.“That wasn’t the point, Grat,” Suda said. “Although, now I am a bit curious,”"It's easy,” Helena said, throwing him a wink. “And I guarantee that I can piss better than Grat fucks.”Laughter rolled around the table. Even Gratian snickered, though heat crawled up his face. He started pouring the wine, filling Helena’s cup and then mine.“So, what the hell are you talking about, then?”“If she can really be Leo’s shield mate,” Maurice said. “If she can fight.”“She knows what it means, Maur,” I said. “She’s good, too. Fast. And she’s got some sense, unlike you thick-headed bastards.”“Good enough for me,” Sergius said. “What do you say boys, we gonna keep her around?”“Let's drink!” Niketas said, grabbing his cup.Sergius banged the table, hoisting his own cup into the air. “To Helena!”“Helena!” We roared, slamming our empty cups down a few moments later.Helena joined in, her smile wide and her cheeks flushed a happy red. Our pitaroudia arrived, and we fell to bickering over the platter of fried balls. They were delicious; tomato, onion and bits of a leafy herb mixed into a patty of ground chickpea.These were rough men that lived rough lives. They were soldiers; killers that earned their coin in the grinding crush of the shield wall. They respected a foul mouth, a hard fist and loyalty to one’s brothers.They were stratiotai.And when Helena clacked her cup with a still sheepish looking Gratian; I saw them start to think of her as one too.“Leo never told me that he was a Centenarius,” Helena eventually said.I snorted. “That’s because I’m not. These idiots just call me that.”“The crest on the helmet don’t make the Centenarius,” Suda drawled. “Ain’t that right, Serg?”“You’re damned right about that, lad,” the older man replied. “Some wise words there.”I rolled my eyes, the rest of the boys snickering into their cups. Sergius liked to share whatever kernels of wisdom popped into his head. We’d all heard this particular one a hundred times already.“We call him that because of Callinicum,” Sergius continued, answering Helena’s question.“Ah,” she said. “You were all there?”Sergius nodded, “and my bones would be decorating some Persian’s trophy shelf if it wasn’t for the Centenarius here. All of ours would.”The mood sobered, each of us remembering. I looked down to my hands; seeing the flecks of old, old blood beneath my fingernails. The ones I could never seem to clean.“Was it bad?” Helena asked.“Aye,” Sergius answered. “The old Centenarius was a right stupid prick. He got himself killed in the first charge of the Sassanid horsemen. Leontius here took over after that. Things were real shaky for a bit, but he kept us from scattering and being cut to pieces. And when the general decided he’d had enough of watching us die, Leo got us retreating.”Nobody spoke for a while, memories holding us. Some of us put wine to our lips. I just stared out at nothing with unfocused eyes. The mood remained dark until Gratian, bless his fool soul, blurted out;“Fuck, but Centenarius Demetrius was a prick.”That brought out a few chuckles. Niketas let out another burp, and Maurice swatted the back of his head. Most of us felt lighter after that. It didn’t do any good to dwell on the past. The things we’d done, the friends we’d lost, It wasn’t good to remember. Stratiotai had to live for the moment.Maybe that was why I’d always been such a terrible soldier.Midnight guard duty.It was approaching midnight when Sergius hauled himself to his feet. He blinked bleary eyes, motioning to the others.“Right boys, we’ve got patrol in the morning. Let’s get moving.”The men swallowed their last mouthfuls of wine, said their goodbyes and stumbled away with various levels of coordination.Sergius watched them go with a shake of his head. He riffled through a pouch at his side for a moment before turning back to me.“I’ve got something for you here, Centenarius. It got to the barracks a week or so ago.”He held a folded envelope out towards me. It had my name on it, written out in my mother’s blocky hand. I snatched it from him, quickly stuffing it away and out of sight. I didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to ruin this night.“It was good to see you, Leo,” Sergius said. He pulled me to my feet, and pounded my back in a rough embrace. “Don’t forget about us rankers while you’re dining with nobles.”“Take care of yourself, Serg,” I said, returning his embrace. “And, thank you.”“We’re on garrison duty,” the old soldier grinned. “What’s going to happen in the capital?”Sergius surprised Helena by pulling her into a hug next. “Keep your shield tight to his. Our Centenarius always seems to be around when shit is the deepest.”“I’ll keep him the sword from his back,” Helena said. “Though, it might loosen him up a bit.”The older man laughed. “It was good to meet you, lass. And remember, you’ve got a brother in old Sergius.” With a last little wave, he ambled out and into the deepening night.“You were right,” Helena said, settling back. She popped the last of the pitaroudia in her mouth. “This is a great place.”“Even with Grat here?” I asked with a smile.“Even still,” she said, her lips curling upward. She put her elbow on the table, leaning her heads against her palm. “I’m happy that you introduced me to your friends. I didn’t think it would be this, nice.”“It was,” I said. I shifted in my seat, wanting to move my chair closer to her. But the movement jostled the letter in my pocket. Suddenly, my mother’s words weighed more than a boulder. I shifted again, an awkward jerk of my body that accomplished nothing.Helena’s smile softened. She took pity on me, scooting over until her leg pressed against mine. I let out a breath, leaning back in my chair. We sat in silence for a while. I closed my eyes, enjoying the warmth, and the quiet murmur of the few remaining patrons.“This was always my favorite part,” I said, after a while. I opened my eyes to find Helena watching me, waiting for me to continue.“A place like this,” I said. “With the others; once the campaigns done. It’s,”I trailed off, trying to order my thoughts. How could I explain this to someone who’d never been to war? How did I tell her of the constant tension; of the anxious expectation that came with knowing that somewhere, beyond the light of your campfire, someone wanted you dead.Kill or be killed; there was none of that here. I could drink with my friends, without wondering which of them I would lose. Or what I would have to do.It was just; "different,” I finished.Helena didn’t laugh. She didn’t smile or tease. She just watched me with eyes that took in so much of me. I caught a glimpse of it; the edge that wondrous vastness behind her cypress gaze. She leaned into me, resting her head against my shoulder and letting out a long breath.“Different,” she said. “I like that.”My eyes suddenly prickled. I blinked furiously, trying to clear the wetness seeping into them. I turned, leaning my chin against her hair; breathing in the scent of her. I shifted my arm to pull her closer, my mother’s letter forgotten.“Leo,” she said. “What would you do if you weren’t a soldier?”“I, I don’t know,” I said. “I’ve always been a soldier.”“But could you do it for ten more years?”“What else would I do? My father was stratiotai, and his father and his father. I don’t know anything else.”Helena shifted against my shoulder, her hair tickling my neck.“What was your plan once you retired?”I bobbed my shoulders in a small shrug, careful not to disturb her. “Go back to Rhodos. My mother is a seamstress. I’d help her run the shop.”“And marry a ‘good’ woman?” She said, her tone edged with mocking.I didn’t answer, though I tightened my grip on Helena. For a heartbeat, her body was stiff. Then, she let out another long breath, relaxing against me.“What about something like this?” She asked, gesturing around us. “A tavern.”“Running a Winehouse?”She pushed off of me, suddenly more animated. “Why not? You could open a soldier’s tavern on Rhodos; make a place for old stratiotai.”“A peaceful place,” I murmured.“Exactly!” She grinned. “It's a good idea, right?”“I’d have to learn how to make pitaroudia,” I said, feeling a smile tug at my lips.“I’m sure Kostas will give you his recipe.”I laughed. “I’m a solider, Helena, not a cook. I think I even burned water once.”“You are a soldier,” she said. Her eyes held mine. “But you can be something else.”I looked away, swallowing.“You’ll think about it?”“Sure,” I forced some lightness into my tone. “But only if you promise that you’d go out and catch fish for me every day.”Helena stiffened, her face suddenly bright red. Not the reaction I’d been expecting. Her eyes flicked over my face, searching. “You don’t think I’d be better as the cook? Or serving drinks?”“No,” I said, not having to force my smile. “You belong on the sea, right?”Her eyes were so wide. I felt my heart start to beat faster. That vastness, it was there, rising to the edge of her; on the verge of breaking through.“Leo,” she murmured. “I,”She was interrupted by the thump of a pouch onto our table. I looked over to find Kostas’ son standing by our table. The kid looked exhausted, but triumphant."You found what I asked for, then?” I said.He nodded, holding out a grubby hand.“Good man,” I grinned, flipping him a silver coin. He disappeared without another word. I quickly disengaged myself from Helena to put the lumpy, medium sized pouch away.“It's a surprise,” I told her. “For later.”She arched an eyebrow, but didn’t press me. She downed her last mouthful of wine, letting out a happy sigh. “We have to come back here.”I nodded, bringing my own wine to my lips.“It's nice to see that you can relax without my cunny in your mouth.”I choked, spraying out a mouthful of wine. Helena laughed, that deep, joy-filled sound. She pounded my back as I coughed myself hoarse. My face blazed, and I felt the eyes of everyone turn towards me.“Leo,” she said. “You’re defenseless.”I coughed, glaring at her through watery eyes.“Come on,” she said. “Let’s get back to the palace.”We walked out into the night, breathing in the city’s quiet. Although, it did not last long. We were but a handful of blocks from the Winehouse, when, out of the dark, we saw the fire.And heard the baying of the mob.A past shared with the Empress.The baying of the mob. The glow of fire.After a few moments of debate, Helena and I decided to move towards it. There were no screams of pain, no real sounds of violence coming from the streets ahead. We would see what there was, we decided, before returning to the Empress.We came into a square; one with a small, torch-lit church planted solidly at the northern end. A few squads of armored stratiotai, perhaps forty men, stood before the single door. They were imperial legionaries, though I did not recognize any of the grim-faced men. They all looked outward, swords drawn.Surrounding them, was the mob.The seething body of humanity was all around them. They totally filled the square; men, women, children. The old and the

Cleopatra would have blushed in this Empress' presence.Based on the work of Robyn Bee, In 7 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at Connected.“I will die before I let them take the purple that robes me. For never will I see the day where those I meet do not call me Empress.”Leontius is stratiotai, a soldier of Rome's armies. He has lived a decade and more of war, staining his boots with the dirt of nations that have dared to raise their blades against the Empire. It's left him tired. So, when given a chance to step from the battlefield and into Constantinople's Imperial Palace, he takes it.Leontius enters the service of Empress Theodora, a woman unlike any other, who rose from the capital's meanest brothels to sit as co-ruler of the Mediterranean's mightiest Empire. But the city writhes in her grip. As embers of rebellion flare into conflagration, Leontius will find that there exists a life beyond what he has known. A path he sees reflected in the smile of a guardswoman with wild, cypress eyes.This is a story set in the Imperial court of the Byzantine Empire in the year 532 AD. It is the tale of a young soldier inducted into the guard of a very horny Empress.“Tell God that He made a mistake, dear father, when He only gave me three holes for pleasure.”I turned those words over in my head, shifting uncomfortably in my seat. I swear, those words had nearly killed my mother when she’d first heard them. She was a tough, tight-lipped seamstress that could heave a bolt of satin over one shoulder with one hand, while she slapped a lesson into me with the other.“What sort of woman would say that?” She’d rail, before clapping her hands over my ears. “Close yourself off to such things,” she’d warn me. “They are not for folks like us.”Those were for the people of the capital, where the streets teemed with prostitutes and silk covered actresses. Not for the goodly, simple folk of Rhodos and my mother’s shop.Despite myself, I felt my lip quirk into a small smile. Of course, the capital was exactly where I was. I stood and kept my eyes lowered until I’d made my way to the nearest window. I stared out into the afternoon sun, breathing deeply of the summer air that was heavy with the scent of nearly half a million people. Constantinople, golden capital of the Eastern Roman, Byzantine Empire and center of the world.I was looking out over the Hippodrome’s track and out into the thousands of domes and roofs of the city. There was no city quite like it in all the world, and even now, a month after having arrived, I still often got lost in its crooked streets.I heard a polite cough behind me, and I turned to find one of the armored guards nodding to the seat I had just vacated. Evidently, I was supposed to wait there.I gritted my teeth, but obeyed. They were just doing their jobs. It wasn’t their fault that I was nearly twitching with restless energy.I adjusted myself on the chair, shifting around in vain to try and find a comfortable position. In all fairness, my discomfort wasn’t the furniture’s fault either. This was, without a doubt, the finest chair I’d ever sat it. Its cushion was thick, held up by four intricately carved legs of scented wood.The rest of the small antechamber was just as luxurious. Everywhere I looked, I saw gold and marble and fine pottery. Even the large door, so diligently guarded by the two armored Excubitors, was carved and inlaid with gold.What in God’s name was I doing here? I was a soldier; my hands calloused by the sword. I was stratiotai, an infantry man. My place was in the shield wall, my sandals stained with the dirt of kingdoms that dared raise their blades against Rome.At least, that’s what I kept telling myself.I heard the muffled sound from behind the guarded door. It made me think back to my mother, to those words that she’d so hated to hear.“Three holes for pleasure,” I murmured to myself.I coughed, feeling heat rise to my cheeks. I shifted again on this damnable chair. What would my mother think if she could see me now? Her only son, her soldier, her little lion; invited to the Imperial Palace.I think that those words would be the first thing she thought of. I think that she would once again clap her hands to my ears so that I would hear no more from the woman that had so famously uttered them.This woman; she who’d been crowned Augusta. A woman who’d come from the flea ridden pallets of the city’s meanest brothel and had risen to command the wealth of half the world. A woman upon who’s words rested the fate of millions. The most powerful woman on earth; co-ruler of the Mediterranean’s mightiest empire and who’s beauty and ruthless intelligence were already being woven into legend.Theodora; Empress of Rome. The woman that I was to meet.The door guarded by the two Imperial Guards suddenly swung open. I leapt to my feet, my spine snapping into a salute.“Ouch,” I heard a woman laugh. “What do you think boys, is his back is straight enough?”The two Excubitors chuckled. I blinked, and found myself facing not the Empress, but a woman in the armor of a guard. The breastplate she wore was of plain, functional steel. She carried with her a heavy, iron-rimmed shield with a short-sword and dagger strapped to the belt at her waist.This was a stratiotai’s kit, standard issue amongst the Emperor’s legions. It was the twin of the one I’d worn nearly every day since my sixteenth birthday; right down to the helmet she held in the crook of her arm.She moved towards me, her hobnailed boots loud against the marble floor. My mind was blank and only a decade’s worth of military discipline kept my mouth from gaping open like the world’s largest fish.Woman weren’t soldiers. They couldn’t be soldiers.A woman’s place was married, tending to a home or shop or farm. From crib to hearth to crib to grave; my mother would say while pinching my cheek. A good woman could be happy nowhere else, she’d insisted.And yet, here one was, grinning at me with her emerald eyes.“Loosen up,” she said. “My back hurts just looking at you.”I obeyed the note of easy command in her voice, staring up and over her left shoulder as I would any Centurion.It was easier than trying to work through my confusion.I felt her eyes on me, taking note of the muscles beneath my light tunica. She swept her eyes down my arms and made an approved sound when she saw the callouses on my open palms. I felt her take note of my scars next, her eyes lingering on each one.My face flushed, my heart beating faster.I wasn’t used to being around women, at least not ones that I hadn’t paid for their company. They were hard to find in a legions camp. This guardswoman was strong, confident, and my awkwardness wasn’t helped by the fact that she was intensely beautiful.Her bright green eyes were the most striking, though it was far from the only thing that made her a rarity. Her hair was held back at her forehead by a band of cloth; a wave of copper-colored hair that curled down to her shoulders. And though her skin was bronzed by the summer sun, she had the sort of complexion that was rare to find in the capital since the loss of the Empire’s western provinces.“So, you’re the one who won the foot-race,” she said. “Leontius, right? I watched you come into the Hippodrome. You’ve got good form.”Was she a runner too? Judging from the lean muscles of her arms and legs, she very well could be. And why the hell not? Apparently, women could be soldiers here, why couldn’t they run naked with the rest of us in the athletic events?I heard the rising voice of my mother’s outrage in my head, but I pushed it and all my swirling confusion to the side. I was a soldier, and I knew how to deal with the dangers of the present before I worried about the future. And right now, the danger was that I’d been staring at this guard’s shapely thighs during a long moment of still stretching silence.“Ahem,” I cleared my throat, my face suddenly burning. “Thank you, sir!” I coughed again, “ma'am”She laughed; eyes sparkling. She had a deep, full-bellied laugh; one that thrummed through my chest and made my toes tingle.“Sir is fine,” she said. “For now. I know that you legion boys have a hard time with change.” She winked.“Ah, yes sir,” I swallowed. “Thank you, sir.”“Alright, then. Are you ready to meet your Empress?”“Yes, sir!” I said, snapping off another salute.She smirked, and led me through the open door and into the short hallway beyond. I followed her towards the door at the other end.“You won the Emperor’s foot-race,” she said. “And you’re a soldier; that means that the Emperor has granted you the chance to join the Empress’ Guard.”“Yes, sir.”I tried not to remember that race. I love to run, but that had been brutal. I’d run for almost an entire day, hammered by the summer sun, racing against the thousand others that had decided to sign up.But I’d won, and the Emperor, Justinian himself, had come down from the Imperial box to put the laurel upon my head. I don’t remember much of that day, though I’m sure that beneath the pain and intense dehydration I’d been proud. I had to have been.The guardswoman glanced over her shoulder at me. “It's just a chance; an interview. Remember that. The Empress has the final say.”My face must have flickered, because she spoke again. “You have a question, soldier?”“No, sir.”“Yes, you do,” she said. “Spit it out.”“Sorry, sir, it's just that I thought that it was the Emperor that chose his Excubitors.”Her lip quirked. “We’re not Excubitors. They guard the whole palace, and the Emperor, sure. Our duties are to the Empress, nobody else. That clear?”“Yes, sir!” I said, though of course, her answer had just raised a hundred more questions in me. “Clear as the giant’s foot.”I immediately cringed as the words slipped out. Now wasn’t the time for a damned joke! But to my relief, she laughed once again.“You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?”We were at hallway’s only other door now, the one that presumably opened into the Empress’ chambers. She turned to regard me with an expression that made the heat rise to behind my neck.“Sorry, sir!” I said. “It's an expression from my home. God as my witness, I meant no offense.”“Your home,” she said. “Rhodes, right?”“I,” I blinked. "Yes, sir.”She grinned. “I knew that there was a reason I liked you. I’m from Lindos, on the eastern side of the island.”“Yes, sir. I know it.”I shoved that information into the same corner of my mind as my now screaming mother. I had family in Lindos, had visited it as a boy. To find out that we may have crossed paths once before was just too much.“I’m from Rhodos,” I said instead. “The city. Though I haven’t been back since I joined the legions.”“It’s been a long time for me as well,” she said.She reached for the ornate handle, pausing to look back at me.“A word of advice,” she said. “The Empress will not be what you expect. Obey her, and remember that while you’re in that room, you’re as responsible for her life as I am.”Without giving me a chance to respond, the armored woman threw open the door and marched me into Empress Theodora’s private chambers.Her sitting room was large, airy, kept cool by an open balcony and several wide windows. The walls were of stone, festooned with tapestry, art and the many other sort of golden things that the rich liked to collect. Beautifully carved wooden chairs, couches and divans were spread throughout the space.And lounging on one, a book held delicately in one hand; was the Empress Theodora.“Highness,” the guardswoman said. “Here’s the man that won the Emperor’s Race.”“Your Majesty,” I said. I dropped to my knees, keeping my eyes on the stone floor. “It would be an honor to serve you.”“Would it, now?” I heard her say in a voice that was tinged with a smile. “Stand up, solider. Let me get a good look at you.”I obeyed, keeping my eyes downcast. I heard the rustle of fabric.“How do you expect to guard me if you’re always looking at the floor?”I flushed, feeling the heat crawl up my neck. I hurriedly looked up, and I swear that for several long heartbeats, I couldn’t breathe.The beauty of the Emperor’s wife was spoken of everywhere her name was known. I had heard her described a thousand different ways; heard a hundred different versions of how she’d come to be named Augusta.Born on faraway Cyprus, she’d come to Constantinople as a child. Her father had trained bears for the circus, and when he’d died, her family had been doomed to the worst sort of poverty. She’d survived as many a young woman had; by trading her body for a roof and something to eat.She’d worked at a brothel, and later as an actress, which many said were the same sort of profession. Constantinople’s taverns were full of men who’d claim to have known her then. They’d wax about the times they’d had her, for one night or many. Others would reminisce about her time on stage, their eyes faraway as they’d recount the day they’d seen her dance clothed in nothing but a long, red-ribbon.I’d heard every story, though none could prepare me for the sight of her. She’d set her book down, her body still draped over the divan. She was young, I realized, barely past her third decade. She wore a thin, silky sort of dress, the material clinging to a figure that had retained its dancer’s strength.Her feet were bare, and she stood in one smooth motion. Her smile was pleased as she glided towards me, her curves tight against the cloth of her dress.Dark, intelligent eyes watched me from above a long neck. It swept of gracefully from her tight chest, a golden chain disappearing into the space that divided it. I wondered what was hidden there, safe and out of sight. How warm the gold must be, cradled against the smoothness of her skin.The Empress smirked. I wrenched my eyes back to the floor, mortified. What in God’s name was I doing? My face burned, and I was opening my mouth to stammer an apology when the Empress spoke.“I did not say that you could look away, soldier.”“A thousand apologies, my Empress,” I said.I lifted my gaze back up to hers with some difficulty. Her eyes were wrinkled in a smile. The rest of her skin was smooth, a warm brown that was a only a few shades lighter than the thick, wavy tresses of hair that cascaded down past her shoulders.She’d stopped an arms-length from me, examining me in the same manner as her guard had a few minutes before. My flush deepened.“Am I making you uncomfortable?”“N, No, your Majesty,” I managed to say.“Good,” her smile widened. “Because I am impressed with you, stratiotai Leontius. And that is without taking into account your victory in my husband’s race. You fought in Persia, did you not?”“Ah, yes, your Majesty. I fought in general Belisarius’ army.”“Indeed,” she said. “You shared in his great victory at Dara, and in his defeat at Callinicum a bare few months ago.”I did not want to remember those battles, that campaign against the Sassanid Persians; neither the baking sun and trenches of Dara or how their cavalry had swept through us at Callinicum.“Yes, your Majesty,” was all I said.“I’ve spoken to many of your fellow soldiers, since Belisarius and his army have trickled back to the capital. You are well regarded by your comrades.”I ducked my head, “thank you, your Majesty.”“A thoughtful man, they all say. One serious about his duty. You had few friends amongst your cohort, yet all respected you.” The Empress continued. “You enlisted at sixteen years of age. You’ve served a decade already, and I believe that you would have served another one if you’d not caught my husband’s attention.”I nodded, ignoring the twist in my stomach.“An exemplary man,” she said. “In most things.”The Empress started to move, circling me. She made a little sound with her throat. “He’s quite handsome as well, is he not?”“I thought so too, Highness,” the emerald-eyed guardswoman said.“Lean,” the Empress continued. “A runner, obviously. Well-muscled, though his shoulders are a little too small. I’m not sure about the beard either, though the jaw beneath looks strong.”“I rather like it, Highness. It's just a dusting of whiskers, but it suits him nicely.”“Yes, well, you’ve always liked them rather savage, Helena. Your Rhodian blood, no doubt.”The other woman, Helena, grinned. “He’s Rhodian too, Highness.”The Empress sniffed. “Figures. I suspect that he will be as uncivilized as you are, then.”Her smile made light of her words, though I was still incredibly uncomfortable. I sweated beneath the attention of the two beautiful women. I kept my back ramrod straight, knowing that I’d be squirming like a virgin at a brothel if I let myself relax.“Now,” the Empress said. “Lie down. On your back.”The order confused me. But she was my Empress, and so I obeyed; lowering myself onto my back, the stone cool through the linen of my tunica.She smiled down at me. “Your obedience is commendable, soldier. And fear not, you’re down there for a reason.”Cloth rustled and sighed, her bare feet making no sound at all as she stepped around me. She was beside my chest now, her large, dark eyes twinkling as she kept her gaze on my face. Inexplicably, I felt my cheeks redden. I averted my gaze.“Look at me,” I heard her snap.My eyes, wide with sudden panic, flew back to her face. Her smile was gone, replaced by a downward twist of her lips.“Your, Your Majesty.” I stammered, frozen, like a rabbit beneath the eagle’s shadow. “Forgive me. Please, I didn’t,”Her smile returned, softening her features and a better companion to the sparkle that had never left her eyes."Shush,” she said. “There’s nothing to forgive.

Cleopatra would have blushed in this Empress' presence.Based on the work of Robyn Bee, In 7 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at Connected.“I will die before I let them take the purple that robes me. For never will I see the day where those I meet do not call me Empress.”Leontius is stratiotai, a soldier of Rome's armies. He has lived a decade and more of war, staining his boots with the dirt of nations that have dared to raise their blades against the Empire. It's left him tired. So, when given a chance to step from the battlefield and into Constantinople's Imperial Palace, he takes it.Leontius enters the service of Empress Theodora, a woman unlike any other, who rose from the capital's meanest brothels to sit as co-ruler of the Mediterranean's mightiest Empire. But the city writhes in her grip. As embers of rebellion flare into conflagration, Leontius will find that there exists a life beyond what he has known. A path he sees reflected in the smile of a guardswoman with wild, cypress eyes.This is a story set in the Imperial court of the Byzantine Empire in the year 532 AD. It is the tale of a young soldier inducted into the guard of a very horny Empress.“Tell God that He made a mistake, dear father, when He only gave me three holes for pleasure.”I turned those words over in my head, shifting uncomfortably in my seat. I swear, those words had nearly killed my mother when she’d first heard them. She was a tough, tight-lipped seamstress that could heave a bolt of satin over one shoulder with one hand, while she slapped a lesson into me with the other.“What sort of woman would say that?” She’d rail, before clapping her hands over my ears. “Close yourself off to such things,” she’d warn me. “They are not for folks like us.”Those were for the people of the capital, where the streets teemed with prostitutes and silk covered actresses. Not for the goodly, simple folk of Rhodos and my mother’s shop.Despite myself, I felt my lip quirk into a small smile. Of course, the capital was exactly where I was. I stood and kept my eyes lowered until I’d made my way to the nearest window. I stared out into the afternoon sun, breathing deeply of the summer air that was heavy with the scent of nearly half a million people. Constantinople, golden capital of the Eastern Roman, Byzantine Empire and center of the world.I was looking out over the Hippodrome’s track and out into the thousands of domes and roofs of the city. There was no city quite like it in all the world, and even now, a month after having arrived, I still often got lost in its crooked streets.I heard a polite cough behind me, and I turned to find one of the armored guards nodding to the seat I had just vacated. Evidently, I was supposed to wait there.I gritted my teeth, but obeyed. They were just doing their jobs. It wasn’t their fault that I was nearly twitching with restless energy.I adjusted myself on the chair, shifting around in vain to try and find a comfortable position. In all fairness, my discomfort wasn’t the furniture’s fault either. This was, without a doubt, the finest chair I’d ever sat it. Its cushion was thick, held up by four intricately carved legs of scented wood.The rest of the small antechamber was just as luxurious. Everywhere I looked, I saw gold and marble and fine pottery. Even the large door, so diligently guarded by the two armored Excubitors, was carved and inlaid with gold.What in God’s name was I doing here? I was a soldier; my hands calloused by the sword. I was stratiotai, an infantry man. My place was in the shield wall, my sandals stained with the dirt of kingdoms that dared raise their blades against Rome.At least, that’s what I kept telling myself.I heard the muffled sound from behind the guarded door. It made me think back to my mother, to those words that she’d so hated to hear.“Three holes for pleasure,” I murmured to myself.I coughed, feeling heat rise to my cheeks. I shifted again on this damnable chair. What would my mother think if she could see me now? Her only son, her soldier, her little lion; invited to the Imperial Palace.I think that those words would be the first thing she thought of. I think that she would once again clap her hands to my ears so that I would hear no more from the woman that had so famously uttered them.This woman; she who’d been crowned Augusta. A woman who’d come from the flea ridden pallets of the city’s meanest brothel and had risen to command the wealth of half the world. A woman upon who’s words rested the fate of millions. The most powerful woman on earth; co-ruler of the Mediterranean’s mightiest empire and who’s beauty and ruthless intelligence were already being woven into legend.Theodora; Empress of Rome. The woman that I was to meet.The door guarded by the two Imperial Guards suddenly swung open. I leapt to my feet, my spine snapping into a salute.“Ouch,” I heard a woman laugh. “What do you think boys, is his back is straight enough?”The two Excubitors chuckled. I blinked, and found myself facing not the Empress, but a woman in the armor of a guard. The breastplate she wore was of plain, functional steel. She carried with her a heavy, iron-rimmed shield with a short-sword and dagger strapped to the belt at her waist.This was a stratiotai’s kit, standard issue amongst the Emperor’s legions. It was the twin of the one I’d worn nearly every day since my sixteenth birthday; right down to the helmet she held in the crook of her arm.She moved towards me, her hobnailed boots loud against the marble floor. My mind was blank and only a decade’s worth of military discipline kept my mouth from gaping open like the world’s largest fish.Woman weren’t soldiers. They couldn’t be soldiers.A woman’s place was married, tending to a home or shop or farm. From crib to hearth to crib to grave; my mother would say while pinching my cheek. A good woman could be happy nowhere else, she’d insisted.And yet, here one was, grinning at me with her emerald eyes.“Loosen up,” she said. “My back hurts just looking at you.”I obeyed the note of easy command in her voice, staring up and over her left shoulder as I would any Centurion.It was easier than trying to work through my confusion.I felt her eyes on me, taking note of the muscles beneath my light tunica. She swept her eyes down my arms and made an approved sound when she saw the callouses on my open palms. I felt her take note of my scars next, her eyes lingering on each one.My face flushed, my heart beating faster.I wasn’t used to being around women, at least not ones that I hadn’t paid for their company. They were hard to find in a legions camp. This guardswoman was strong, confident, and my awkwardness wasn’t helped by the fact that she was intensely beautiful.Her bright green eyes were the most striking, though it was far from the only thing that made her a rarity. Her hair was held back at her forehead by a band of cloth; a wave of copper-colored hair that curled down to her shoulders. And though her skin was bronzed by the summer sun, she had the sort of complexion that was rare to find in the capital since the loss of the Empire’s western provinces.“So, you’re the one who won the foot-race,” she said. “Leontius, right? I watched you come into the Hippodrome. You’ve got good form.”Was she a runner too? Judging from the lean muscles of her arms and legs, she very well could be. And why the hell not? Apparently, women could be soldiers here, why couldn’t they run naked with the rest of us in the athletic events?I heard the rising voice of my mother’s outrage in my head, but I pushed it and all my swirling confusion to the side. I was a soldier, and I knew how to deal with the dangers of the present before I worried about the future. And right now, the danger was that I’d been staring at this guard’s shapely thighs during a long moment of still stretching silence.“Ahem,” I cleared my throat, my face suddenly burning. “Thank you, sir!” I coughed again, “ma'am”She laughed; eyes sparkling. She had a deep, full-bellied laugh; one that thrummed through my chest and made my toes tingle.“Sir is fine,” she said. “For now. I know that you legion boys have a hard time with change.” She winked.“Ah, yes sir,” I swallowed. “Thank you, sir.”“Alright, then. Are you ready to meet your Empress?”“Yes, sir!” I said, snapping off another salute.She smirked, and led me through the open door and into the short hallway beyond. I followed her towards the door at the other end.“You won the Emperor’s foot-race,” she said. “And you’re a soldier; that means that the Emperor has granted you the chance to join the Empress’ Guard.”“Yes, sir.”I tried not to remember that race. I love to run, but that had been brutal. I’d run for almost an entire day, hammered by the summer sun, racing against the thousand others that had decided to sign up.But I’d won, and the Emperor, Justinian himself, had come down from the Imperial box to put the laurel upon my head. I don’t remember much of that day, though I’m sure that beneath the pain and intense dehydration I’d been proud. I had to have been.The guardswoman glanced over her shoulder at me. “It's just a chance; an interview. Remember that. The Empress has the final say.”My face must have flickered, because she spoke again. “You have a question, soldier?”“No, sir.”“Yes, you do,” she said. “Spit it out.”“Sorry, sir, it's just that I thought that it was the Emperor that chose his Excubitors.”Her lip quirked. “We’re not Excubitors. They guard the whole palace, and the Emperor, sure. Our duties are to the Empress, nobody else. That clear?”“Yes, sir!” I said, though of course, her answer had just raised a hundred more questions in me. “Clear as the giant’s foot.”I immediately cringed as the words slipped out. Now wasn’t the time for a damned joke! But to my relief, she laughed once again.“You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?”We were at hallway’s only other door now, the one that presumably opened into the Empress’ chambers. She turned to regard me with an expression that made the heat rise to behind my neck.“Sorry, sir!” I said. “It's an expression from my home. God as my witness, I meant no offense.”“Your home,” she said. “Rhodes, right?”“I,” I blinked. "Yes, sir.”She grinned. “I knew that there was a reason I liked you. I’m from Lindos, on the eastern side of the island.”“Yes, sir. I know it.”I shoved that information into the same corner of my mind as my now screaming mother. I had family in Lindos, had visited it as a boy. To find out that we may have crossed paths once before was just too much.“I’m from Rhodos,” I said instead. “The city. Though I haven’t been back since I joined the legions.”“It’s been a long time for me as well,” she said.She reached for the ornate handle, pausing to look back at me.“A word of advice,” she said. “The Empress will not be what you expect. Obey her, and remember that while you’re in that room, you’re as responsible for her life as I am.”Without giving me a chance to respond, the armored woman threw open the door and marched me into Empress Theodora’s private chambers.Her sitting room was large, airy, kept cool by an open balcony and several wide windows. The walls were of stone, festooned with tapestry, art and the many other sort of golden things that the rich liked to collect. Beautifully carved wooden chairs, couches and divans were spread throughout the space.And lounging on one, a book held delicately in one hand; was the Empress Theodora.“Highness,” the guardswoman said. “Here’s the man that won the Emperor’s Race.”“Your Majesty,” I said. I dropped to my knees, keeping my eyes on the stone floor. “It would be an honor to serve you.”“Would it, now?” I heard her say in a voice that was tinged with a smile. “Stand up, solider. Let me get a good look at you.”I obeyed, keeping my eyes downcast. I heard the rustle of fabric.“How do you expect to guard me if you’re always looking at the floor?”I flushed, feeling the heat crawl up my neck. I hurriedly looked up, and I swear that for several long heartbeats, I couldn’t breathe.The beauty of the Emperor’s wife was spoken of everywhere her name was known. I had heard her described a thousand different ways; heard a hundred different versions of how she’d come to be named Augusta.Born on faraway Cyprus, she’d come to Constantinople as a child. Her father had trained bears for the circus, and when he’d died, her family had been doomed to the worst sort of poverty. She’d survived as many a young woman had; by trading her body for a roof and something to eat.She’d worked at a brothel, and later as an actress, which many said were the same sort of profession. Constantinople’s taverns were full of men who’d claim to have known her then. They’d wax about the times they’d had her, for one night or many. Others would reminisce about her time on stage, their eyes faraway as they’d recount the day they’d seen her dance clothed in nothing but a long, red-ribbon.I’d heard every story, though none could prepare me for the sight of her. She’d set her book down, her body still draped over the divan. She was young, I realized, barely past her third decade. She wore a thin, silky sort of dress, the material clinging to a figure that had retained its dancer’s strength.Her feet were bare, and she stood in one smooth motion. Her smile was pleased as she glided towards me, her curves tight against the cloth of her dress.Dark, intelligent eyes watched me from above a long neck. It swept of gracefully from her tight chest, a golden chain disappearing into the space that divided it. I wondered what was hidden there, safe and out of sight. How warm the gold must be, cradled against the smoothness of her skin.The Empress smirked. I wrenched my eyes back to the floor, mortified. What in God’s name was I doing? My face burned, and I was opening my mouth to stammer an apology when the Empress spoke.“I did not say that you could look away, soldier.”“A thousand apologies, my Empress,” I said.I lifted my gaze back up to hers with some difficulty. Her eyes were wrinkled in a smile. The rest of her skin was smooth, a warm brown that was a only a few shades lighter than the thick, wavy tresses of hair that cascaded down past her shoulders.She’d stopped an arms-length from me, examining me in the same manner as her guard had a few minutes before. My flush deepened.“Am I making you uncomfortable?”“N, No, your Majesty,” I managed to say.“Good,” her smile widened. “Because I am impressed with you, stratiotai Leontius. And that is without taking into account your victory in my husband’s race. You fought in Persia, did you not?”“Ah, yes, your Majesty. I fought in general Belisarius’ army.”“Indeed,” she said. “You shared in his great victory at Dara, and in his defeat at Callinicum a bare few months ago.”I did not want to remember those battles, that campaign against the Sassanid Persians; neither the baking sun and trenches of Dara or how their cavalry had swept through us at Callinicum.“Yes, your Majesty,” was all I said.“I’ve spoken to many of your fellow soldiers, since Belisarius and his army have trickled back to the capital. You are well regarded by your comrades.”I ducked my head, “thank you, your Majesty.”“A thoughtful man, they all say. One serious about his duty. You had few friends amongst your cohort, yet all respected you.” The Empress continued. “You enlisted at sixteen years of age. You’ve served a decade already, and I believe that you would have served another one if you’d not caught my husband’s attention.”I nodded, ignoring the twist in my stomach.“An exemplary man,” she said. “In most things.”The Empress started to move, circling me. She made a little sound with her throat. “He’s quite handsome as well, is he not?”“I thought so too, Highness,” the emerald-eyed guardswoman said.“Lean,” the Empress continued. “A runner, obviously. Well-muscled, though his shoulders are a little too small. I’m not sure about the beard either, though the jaw beneath looks strong.”“I rather like it, Highness. It's just a dusting of whiskers, but it suits him nicely.”“Yes, well, you’ve always liked them rather savage, Helena. Your Rhodian blood, no doubt.”The other woman, Helena, grinned. “He’s Rhodian too, Highness.”The Empress sniffed. “Figures. I suspect that he will be as uncivilized as you are, then.”Her smile made light of her words, though I was still incredibly uncomfortable. I sweated beneath the attention of the two beautiful women. I kept my back ramrod straight, knowing that I’d be squirming like a virgin at a brothel if I let myself relax.“Now,” the Empress said. “Lie down. On your back.”The order confused me. But she was my Empress, and so I obeyed; lowering myself onto my back, the stone cool through the linen of my tunica.She smiled down at me. “Your obedience is commendable, soldier. And fear not, you’re down there for a reason.”Cloth rustled and sighed, her bare feet making no sound at all as she stepped around me. She was beside my chest now, her large, dark eyes twinkling as she kept her gaze on my face. Inexplicably, I felt my cheeks redden. I averted my gaze.“Look at me,” I heard her snap.My eyes, wide with sudden panic, flew back to her face. Her smile was gone, replaced by a downward twist of her lips.“Your, Your Majesty.” I stammered, frozen, like a rabbit beneath the eagle’s shadow. “Forgive me. Please, I didn’t,”Her smile returned, softening her features and a better companion to the sparkle that had never left her eyes."Shush,” she said. “There’s nothing to forgive.

Cleopatra would have blushed in this Empress' presence.Based on the work of Robyn Bee, In 7 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at Connected.“I will die before I let them take the purple that robes me. For never will I see the day where those I meet do not call me Empress.”Leontius is stratiotai, a soldier of Rome's armies. He has lived a decade and more of war, staining his boots with the dirt of nations that have dared to raise their blades against the Empire. It's left him tired. So, when given a chance to step from the battlefield and into Constantinople's Imperial Palace, he takes it.Leontius enters the service of Empress Theodora, a woman unlike any other, who rose from the capital's meanest brothels to sit as co-ruler of the Mediterranean's mightiest Empire. But the city writhes in her grip. As embers of rebellion flare into conflagration, Leontius will find that there exists a life beyond what he has known. A path he sees reflected in the smile of a guardswoman with wild, cypress eyes.This is a story set in the Imperial court of the Byzantine Empire in the year 532 AD. It is the tale of a young soldier inducted into the guard of a very horny Empress.“Tell God that He made a mistake, dear father, when He only gave me three holes for pleasure.”I turned those words over in my head, shifting uncomfortably in my seat. I swear, those words had nearly killed my mother when she’d first heard them. She was a tough, tight-lipped seamstress that could heave a bolt of satin over one shoulder with one hand, while she slapped a lesson into me with the other.“What sort of woman would say that?” She’d rail, before clapping her hands over my ears. “Close yourself off to such things,” she’d warn me. “They are not for folks like us.”Those were for the people of the capital, where the streets teemed with prostitutes and silk covered actresses. Not for the goodly, simple folk of Rhodos and my mother’s shop.Despite myself, I felt my lip quirk into a small smile. Of course, the capital was exactly where I was. I stood and kept my eyes lowered until I’d made my way to the nearest window. I stared out into the afternoon sun, breathing deeply of the summer air that was heavy with the scent of nearly half a million people. Constantinople, golden capital of the Eastern Roman, Byzantine Empire and center of the world.I was looking out over the Hippodrome’s track and out into the thousands of domes and roofs of the city. There was no city quite like it in all the world, and even now, a month after having arrived, I still often got lost in its crooked streets.I heard a polite cough behind me, and I turned to find one of the armored guards nodding to the seat I had just vacated. Evidently, I was supposed to wait there.I gritted my teeth, but obeyed. They were just doing their jobs. It wasn’t their fault that I was nearly twitching with restless energy.I adjusted myself on the chair, shifting around in vain to try and find a comfortable position. In all fairness, my discomfort wasn’t the furniture’s fault either. This was, without a doubt, the finest chair I’d ever sat it. Its cushion was thick, held up by four intricately carved legs of scented wood.The rest of the small antechamber was just as luxurious. Everywhere I looked, I saw gold and marble and fine pottery. Even the large door, so diligently guarded by the two armored Excubitors, was carved and inlaid with gold.What in God’s name was I doing here? I was a soldier; my hands calloused by the sword. I was stratiotai, an infantry man. My place was in the shield wall, my sandals stained with the dirt of kingdoms that dared raise their blades against Rome.At least, that’s what I kept telling myself.I heard the muffled sound from behind the guarded door. It made me think back to my mother, to those words that she’d so hated to hear.“Three holes for pleasure,” I murmured to myself.I coughed, feeling heat rise to my cheeks. I shifted again on this damnable chair. What would my mother think if she could see me now? Her only son, her soldier, her little lion; invited to the Imperial Palace.I think that those words would be the first thing she thought of. I think that she would once again clap her hands to my ears so that I would hear no more from the woman that had so famously uttered them.This woman; she who’d been crowned Augusta. A woman who’d come from the flea ridden pallets of the city’s meanest brothel and had risen to command the wealth of half the world. A woman upon who’s words rested the fate of millions. The most powerful woman on earth; co-ruler of the Mediterranean’s mightiest empire and who’s beauty and ruthless intelligence were already being woven into legend.Theodora; Empress of Rome. The woman that I was to meet.The door guarded by the two Imperial Guards suddenly swung open. I leapt to my feet, my spine snapping into a salute.“Ouch,” I heard a woman laugh. “What do you think boys, is his back is straight enough?”The two Excubitors chuckled. I blinked, and found myself facing not the Empress, but a woman in the armor of a guard. The breastplate she wore was of plain, functional steel. She carried with her a heavy, iron-rimmed shield with a short-sword and dagger strapped to the belt at her waist.This was a stratiotai’s kit, standard issue amongst the Emperor’s legions. It was the twin of the one I’d worn nearly every day since my sixteenth birthday; right down to the helmet she held in the crook of her arm.She moved towards me, her hobnailed boots loud against the marble floor. My mind was blank and only a decade’s worth of military discipline kept my mouth from gaping open like the world’s largest fish.Woman weren’t soldiers. They couldn’t be soldiers.A woman’s place was married, tending to a home or shop or farm. From crib to hearth to crib to grave; my mother would say while pinching my cheek. A good woman could be happy nowhere else, she’d insisted.And yet, here one was, grinning at me with her emerald eyes.“Loosen up,” she said. “My back hurts just looking at you.”I obeyed the note of easy command in her voice, staring up and over her left shoulder as I would any Centurion.It was easier than trying to work through my confusion.I felt her eyes on me, taking note of the muscles beneath my light tunica. She swept her eyes down my arms and made an approved sound when she saw the callouses on my open palms. I felt her take note of my scars next, her eyes lingering on each one.My face flushed, my heart beating faster.I wasn’t used to being around women, at least not ones that I hadn’t paid for their company. They were hard to find in a legions camp. This guardswoman was strong, confident, and my awkwardness wasn’t helped by the fact that she was intensely beautiful.Her bright green eyes were the most striking, though it was far from the only thing that made her a rarity. Her hair was held back at her forehead by a band of cloth; a wave of copper-colored hair that curled down to her shoulders. And though her skin was bronzed by the summer sun, she had the sort of complexion that was rare to find in the capital since the loss of the Empire’s western provinces.“So, you’re the one who won the foot-race,” she said. “Leontius, right? I watched you come into the Hippodrome. You’ve got good form.”Was she a runner too? Judging from the lean muscles of her arms and legs, she very well could be. And why the hell not? Apparently, women could be soldiers here, why couldn’t they run naked with the rest of us in the athletic events?I heard the rising voice of my mother’s outrage in my head, but I pushed it and all my swirling confusion to the side. I was a soldier, and I knew how to deal with the dangers of the present before I worried about the future. And right now, the danger was that I’d been staring at this guard’s shapely thighs during a long moment of still stretching silence.“Ahem,” I cleared my throat, my face suddenly burning. “Thank you, sir!” I coughed again, “ma'am”She laughed; eyes sparkling. She had a deep, full-bellied laugh; one that thrummed through my chest and made my toes tingle.“Sir is fine,” she said. “For now. I know that you legion boys have a hard time with change.” She winked.“Ah, yes sir,” I swallowed. “Thank you, sir.”“Alright, then. Are you ready to meet your Empress?”“Yes, sir!” I said, snapping off another salute.She smirked, and led me through the open door and into the short hallway beyond. I followed her towards the door at the other end.“You won the Emperor’s foot-race,” she said. “And you’re a soldier; that means that the Emperor has granted you the chance to join the Empress’ Guard.”“Yes, sir.”I tried not to remember that race. I love to run, but that had been brutal. I’d run for almost an entire day, hammered by the summer sun, racing against the thousand others that had decided to sign up.But I’d won, and the Emperor, Justinian himself, had come down from the Imperial box to put the laurel upon my head. I don’t remember much of that day, though I’m sure that beneath the pain and intense dehydration I’d been proud. I had to have been.The guardswoman glanced over her shoulder at me. “It's just a chance; an interview. Remember that. The Empress has the final say.”My face must have flickered, because she spoke again. “You have a question, soldier?”“No, sir.”“Yes, you do,” she said. “Spit it out.”“Sorry, sir, it's just that I thought that it was the Emperor that chose his Excubitors.”Her lip quirked. “We’re not Excubitors. They guard the whole palace, and the Emperor, sure. Our duties are to the Empress, nobody else. That clear?”“Yes, sir!” I said, though of course, her answer had just raised a hundred more questions in me. “Clear as the giant’s foot.”I immediately cringed as the words slipped out. Now wasn’t the time for a damned joke! But to my relief, she laughed once again.“You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?”We were at hallway’s only other door now, the one that presumably opened into the Empress’ chambers. She turned to regard me with an expression that made the heat rise to behind my neck.“Sorry, sir!” I said. “It's an expression from my home. God as my witness, I meant no offense.”“Your home,” she said. “Rhodes, right?”“I,” I blinked. "Yes, sir.”She grinned. “I knew that there was a reason I liked you. I’m from Lindos, on the eastern side of the island.”“Yes, sir. I know it.”I shoved that information into the same corner of my mind as my now screaming mother. I had family in Lindos, had visited it as a boy. To find out that we may have crossed paths once before was just too much.“I’m from Rhodos,” I said instead. “The city. Though I haven’t been back since I joined the legions.”“It’s been a long time for me as well,” she said.She reached for the ornate handle, pausing to look back at me.“A word of advice,” she said. “The Empress will not be what you expect. Obey her, and remember that while you’re in that room, you’re as responsible for her life as I am.”Without giving me a chance to respond, the armored woman threw open the door and marched me into Empress Theodora’s private chambers.Her sitting room was large, airy, kept cool by an open balcony and several wide windows. The walls were of stone, festooned with tapestry, art and the many other sort of golden things that the rich liked to collect. Beautifully carved wooden chairs, couches and divans were spread throughout the space.And lounging on one, a book held delicately in one hand; was the Empress Theodora.“Highness,” the guardswoman said. “Here’s the man that won the Emperor’s Race.”“Your Majesty,” I said. I dropped to my knees, keeping my eyes on the stone floor. “It would be an honor to serve you.”“Would it, now?” I heard her say in a voice that was tinged with a smile. “Stand up, solider. Let me get a good look at you.”I obeyed, keeping my eyes downcast. I heard the rustle of fabric.“How do you expect to guard me if you’re always looking at the floor?”I flushed, feeling the heat crawl up my neck. I hurriedly looked up, and I swear that for several long heartbeats, I couldn’t breathe.The beauty of the Emperor’s wife was spoken of everywhere her name was known. I had heard her described a thousand different ways; heard a hundred different versions of how she’d come to be named Augusta.Born on faraway Cyprus, she’d come to Constantinople as a child. Her father had trained bears for the circus, and when he’d died, her family had been doomed to the worst sort of poverty. She’d survived as many a young woman had; by trading her body for a roof and something to eat.She’d worked at a brothel, and later as an actress, which many said were the same sort of profession. Constantinople’s taverns were full of men who’d claim to have known her then. They’d wax about the times they’d had her, for one night or many. Others would reminisce about her time on stage, their eyes faraway as they’d recount the day they’d seen her dance clothed in nothing but a long, red-ribbon.I’d heard every story, though none could prepare me for the sight of her. She’d set her book down, her body still draped over the divan. She was young, I realized, barely past her third decade. She wore a thin, silky sort of dress, the material clinging to a figure that had retained its dancer’s strength.Her feet were bare, and she stood in one smooth motion. Her smile was pleased as she glided towards me, her curves tight against the cloth of her dress.Dark, intelligent eyes watched me from above a long neck. It swept of gracefully from her tight chest, a golden chain disappearing into the space that divided it. I wondered what was hidden there, safe and out of sight. How warm the gold must be, cradled against the smoothness of her skin.The Empress smirked. I wrenched my eyes back to the floor, mortified. What in God’s name was I doing? My face burned, and I was opening my mouth to stammer an apology when the Empress spoke.“I did not say that you could look away, soldier.”“A thousand apologies, my Empress,” I said.I lifted my gaze back up to hers with some difficulty. Her eyes were wrinkled in a smile. The rest of her skin was smooth, a warm brown that was a only a few shades lighter than the thick, wavy tresses of hair that cascaded down past her shoulders.She’d stopped an arms-length from me, examining me in the same manner as her guard had a few minutes before. My flush deepened.“Am I making you uncomfortable?”“N, No, your Majesty,” I managed to say.“Good,” her smile widened. “Because I am impressed with you, stratiotai Leontius. And that is without taking into account your victory in my husband’s race. You fought in Persia, did you not?”“Ah, yes, your Majesty. I fought in general Belisarius’ army.”“Indeed,” she said. “You shared in his great victory at Dara, and in his defeat at Callinicum a bare few months ago.”I did not want to remember those battles, that campaign against the Sassanid Persians; neither the baking sun and trenches of Dara or how their cavalry had swept through us at Callinicum.“Yes, your Majesty,” was all I said.“I’ve spoken to many of your fellow soldiers, since Belisarius and his army have trickled back to the capital. You are well regarded by your comrades.”I ducked my head, “thank you, your Majesty.”“A thoughtful man, they all say. One serious about his duty. You had few friends amongst your cohort, yet all respected you.” The Empress continued. “You enlisted at sixteen years of age. You’ve served a decade already, and I believe that you would have served another one if you’d not caught my husband’s attention.”I nodded, ignoring the twist in my stomach.“An exemplary man,” she said. “In most things.”The Empress started to move, circling me. She made a little sound with her throat. “He’s quite handsome as well, is he not?”“I thought so too, Highness,” the emerald-eyed guardswoman said.“Lean,” the Empress continued. “A runner, obviously. Well-muscled, though his shoulders are a little too small. I’m not sure about the beard either, though the jaw beneath looks strong.”“I rather like it, Highness. It's just a dusting of whiskers, but it suits him nicely.”“Yes, well, you’ve always liked them rather savage, Helena. Your Rhodian blood, no doubt.”The other woman, Helena, grinned. “He’s Rhodian too, Highness.”The Empress sniffed. “Figures. I suspect that he will be as uncivilized as you are, then.”Her smile made light of her words, though I was still incredibly uncomfortable. I sweated beneath the attention of the two beautiful women. I kept my back ramrod straight, knowing that I’d be squirming like a virgin at a brothel if I let myself relax.“Now,” the Empress said. “Lie down. On your back.”The order confused me. But she was my Empress, and so I obeyed; lowering myself onto my back, the stone cool through the linen of my tunica.She smiled down at me. “Your obedience is commendable, soldier. And fear not, you’re down there for a reason.”Cloth rustled and sighed, her bare feet making no sound at all as she stepped around me. She was beside my chest now, her large, dark eyes twinkling as she kept her gaze on my face. Inexplicably, I felt my cheeks redden. I averted my gaze.“Look at me,” I heard her snap.My eyes, wide with sudden panic, flew back to her face. Her smile was gone, replaced by a downward twist of her lips.“Your, Your Majesty.” I stammered, frozen, like a rabbit beneath the eagle’s shadow. “Forgive me. Please, I didn’t,”Her smile returned, softening her features and a better companion to the sparkle that had never left her eyes."Shush,” she said. “There’s nothing to forgive.

The developments in theoretical mathematics were also translated into practical (and sometimes impractical) applications during the Hellenistic period. New weapons of war like torsion catapults and enormous ships found their way on the battlefield, and this love for all things big extended to Rhodian architects who constructed their famous Colossus. Under the Alexandrian inventors Ctesibius and Hero, the rise of pneumatics saw the the creation of the earliest known robots (automatons) and the predecessor of the steam engine that continues to amaze viewers down to the present day. Episode Notes: (https://hellenisticagepodcast.wordpress.com/2024/07/01/098-hellenistic-science-mechanics-engineering-and-technology/) Episode Transcript: (https://hellenisticagepodcast.wordpress.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/07/098-hellenistic-science-mechanics-engineering-and-technology-transcript.pdf) Social Media: Twitter (https://twitter.com/HellenisticPod) Facebook (www.facebook.com/hellenisticagepodcast/) Instagram (https://www.instagram.com/hellenistic_age_podcast/) Twitch (https://www.twitch.tv/hellenisticagepodcast) Show Merchandise: Etsy (https://www.etsy.com/shop/HellenisticAgePod) Redbubble (https://www.redbubble.com/people/HellenisticPod/shop?asc=u) Donations: Patreon (https://patreon.com/TheHellenisticAgePodcast) Ko-Fi (https://ko-fi.com/hellenisticagepodcast) Amazon Book Wish List (https://tinyurl.com/vfw6ask)

After a quick battle with a zombified Rhodian miner, the crew of the Titan's Mercy uncovers even more of the unfolding mystery... Music by: Joshua Empyre (FreeSound and Bandcamp) NightCast Discord: see previous releases Donate to Destiny: see previous releases The StarBirds is played using the Edge Of The Empire system by Fantasy Flight Games and LucasBooks/Edge Studio    

Given its 50% share of global premiums, it's probably fair enough that we spend an awful lot of our time talking about the US market, but sometimes it's refreshing to broaden our horizons a little. So today we're going to be looking at Australia. And luckily we're going to be guided by a real expert and pioneer in this territory. This is someone with an enviable track record and also a very strong grounding in global wholesale insurance. Simon Lightbody has had a very successful 30-plus year career which started as a broker and then an underwriter in London, but really took off 18 years ago when he helped found Miramar, an Australian MGA backed by the growing Steadfast distribution group. Steadfast went public ten years ago and these days its MGAs write well over a billion in annual premiums. After a recent career break Simon is back with Rhodian - a brand-new MGA incubator, set up with support from Amwins. When someone of Simon's experience and success starts something new it's always exciting and a chance to find out what opportunity it is they have seen or what gap in the market they have spotted. So what follows is an excellent tour around Simon's big idea and the opportunities available in the Australian and wider Asia-Pacific markets. Simon's someone I knew back in my own broking days in the 1990s and I think some of that familiarity comes through in this really friendly and relaxed meeting. But most importantly this is an encounter with a highly successful entrepreneur who knows the MGA business from top to bottom. And because of that I think this Episode has an awful lot to offer any listener, whether they have a particular interest in the Australian market or not. NOTES APRA is the Australian prudential regulator, the Australian Prudential Regulation Authority. ASIC is the conduct regulator, the Australian Securities and Investments Commission LINKS We thank our naming sponsor AdvantageGo: https://www.advantagego.com/

Nick and Benji present… The Chat - Bananas and mispronounced Who words… Good Review Guide: Doctor Who Audio Novel - Watchers… Behind-the-scenes and Drama Tease: Class: Secret Diary of a Rhodian Prince… Also Available: Torchwood Double 2.

Sign up for bonus episodes at www.themidnighttrainpodcast.com    Well since last week's episode left Logan up at night with nightmares and I still can't get the stains out of my shorts; we have decided to make this week's episode a little more on the lighter side. So we are diving deep into the wonderful world of politics! You got it, today we are going to discuss The Biden Administrations wonderful and brilliant plans and maybe even get an interview with Brandon himself! HA like that would ever happen. Fuck those guys. We are actually talking about the Antikythera Mechanism, and the mysteries surrounding it.   The Antikythera mechanism is a hand-powered orrery( a mechanical model of our solar system) from Ancient Greece that has been dubbed the world's first analog computer since it was used to forecast celestial locations and eclipses decades in advance. The ancient Olympic Games' four-year cycle, which was akin to an Olympiad, could also be followed using this method.   In 1901, wreckage from a shipwreck off the shore of the Greek island of Antikythera included this artifact. Archaeologist Valerios Stais recognized it as bearing a gear on May 17, 1902. The gadget, which was found as a single lump and then fragmented into three primary components that are now divided into 82 individual shards following conservation efforts, was contained in the remnants of a wooden box that measured 34 cm 18 cm 9 cm (13.4 in 7.1 in 3.5 in). While several of these shards have inscriptions, four of them have gears. The biggest gear has 223 teeth and is around 13 centimeters (5.1 in) in diameter.   Using contemporary computer x-ray tomography and high resolution surface scanning, a team at Cardiff University led by Mike Edmunds and Tony Freeth was able to image inside fragments of the crust-encased mechanism in 2008 and decipher the faintest writing that had once been inscribed on the machine's outer casing. This shows that it contained 37 bronze meshing gears that allowed it to mimic the Moon's erratic orbit, where the Moon's velocity is higher in its perigee than in its apogee, follow the motions of the Moon and Sun across the zodiac, and anticipate eclipses. Astronomer Hipparchus of Rhodes researched this motion in the second century BC, and it is possible that he was consulted when building the device. It is believed that a piece of the system, which also determined the locations of the five classical planets, is missing.   The device has been variously dated to between 150 and 100 BC, or to 205 BC, and it is thought to have been devised and built by Greek scientists. In any event, it had to have been built prior to the shipwreck, which has been dated to around 70–60 BC by many lines of evidence. Researchers suggested in 2022 that the machine's initial calibration date, rather than the actual date of manufacture, would have been December 23, 178 BC. Some academics disagree, arguing that the calibration date should be 204 BC. Up to the astronomical clocks of Richard of Wallingford and Giovanni de' Dondi in the fourteenth century, comparable complicated machines had not been seen.   The National Archaeological Museum in Athens currently has all of the Antikythera mechanism's fragments as well as a variety of reproductions and artistic reconstructions that show how it would have appeared and operated.   During the first voyage with the Hellenic Royal Navy, in 1900–1901, Captain Dimitrios Kontos and a crew of sponge divers from Symi island found the Antikythera shipwreck. Off Point Glyphadia on the Greek island of Antikythera, at a depth of 45 meters (148 feet), a Roman cargo ship wreck was discovered. The crew found various huge items, including the mechanism, ceramics, special glassware, jewelry, bronze and marble statues, and more. In 1901, most likely that July, the mechanism was pulled from the rubble. The mechanism's origin remains unknown, however it has been speculated that it was transported from Rhodes to Rome along with other seized goods to assist a triumphant procession that Julius Caesar was staging.   The National Museum of Archaeology in Athens received all the salvaged debris pieces for storage and examination. The museum personnel spent two years assembling more visible artifacts, like the sculptures, but the mechanism, which looked like a mass of tarnished brass and wood, remained unseen. The mechanism underwent deformational modifications as a result of not treating it after removal from saltwater.   Archaeologist Valerios Stais discovered a gear wheel lodged in one of the rocks on May 17, 1902. Although most experts judged the object to be prochronistic and too complicated to have been created during the same era as the other components that had been unearthed, he originally thought it was an astronomical clock. Before British science historian and Yale University professor Derek J. de Solla Price developed an interest in the object in 1951, investigations into the object were abandoned. The 82 pieces were photographed using X-ray and gamma-ray technology in 1971 by Price and Greek nuclear researcher Charalampos Karakalos. In 1974, Price issued a 70-page report summarizing their findings.   In 2012 and 2015, two more searches at the Antikythera wreck site turned up artifacts and another ship that may or may not be related to the treasure ship on which the mechanism was discovered. A bronze disc decorated with a bull's head was also discovered. Some speculated that the disc, which has four "ears" with holes in them, may have served as a "cog wheel" in the Antikythera mechanism. There doesn't seem to be any proof that it was a component of the mechanism; it's more probable that the disc was a bronze ornament on some furniture.   The earliest analog computer is typically referred to as the Antikythera mechanism. The production of the device must have had undiscovered ancestors throughout the Hellenistic era based on its quality and intricacy. It is believed to have been erected either in the late second century BC or the early first century BC, and its construction was based on mathematical and astronomical ideas created by Greek scientists during the second century BC.   Since they recognized the calendar on the Metonic Spiral as originating from Corinth or one of its colonies in northwest Greece or Sicily, further investigation by the Antikythera Mechanism Research Project in 2008 showed that the idea for the mechanism may have originated in the colonies of Corinth. The Antikythera Mechanism Research Initiative contended in 2008 that Syracuse could suggest a relationship with the school of Archimedes because it was a Corinthian colony and the home of Archimedes. In 2017, it was shown that the Metonic Spiral's calendar is of the Corinthian type and cannot be a Syracuse calendar. Another idea postulates that the device's origin may have come from the ancient Greek city of Pergamon, site of the Library of Pergamum, and claims that coins discovered by Jacques Cousteau at the wreck site in the 1970s correspond to the time of the device's creation. It was second in significance to the Library of Alexandria during the Hellenistic era due to its extensive collection of art and scientific scrolls.   A theory that the gadget was built in an academy established by Stoic philosopher Posidonius on that Greek island is supported by the discovery of Rhodian-style vases aboard the ship that carried the object. Hipparchus, an astronomer active from around 140 BC to 120 BC, lived at Rhodes, which was a bustling commercial port and a center for astronomy and mechanical engineering. Hipparchus' hypothesis of the motion of the Moon is used by the mechanism, raising the likelihood that he may have developed it or at the very least worked on it. The island of Rhodes is situated between the latitudes of 35.85 and 36.50 degrees north; it has lately been proposed that the astronomical events on the Parapegma of the Antikythera mechanism operate best for latitudes in the range of 33.3-37.0 degrees north.   According to a research published in 2014 by Carman and Evans, the Saros Dial's start-up date corresponds to the astronomical lunar month that started soon after the new moon on April 28, 205 BC. This suggests a revised dating of about 200 BC. Carman and Evans claim that the Babylonian arithmetic style of prediction suits the device's predictive models considerably better than the conventional Greek trigonometric approach does. According to a 2017 study by Paul Iversen, the device's prototype originated in Rhodes, but this particular model was modified for a customer from Epirus in northwest Greece. Iversen contends that the device was likely built no earlier than a generation before the shipwreck, a date that is also supported by Jones.   In an effort to learn more about the mechanism, further dives were made in 2014 and 2015. A five-year investigative program that started in 2014 and finished in October 2019 was followed by a second five-year session that began in May 2020.   The original mechanism probably came in one encrusted piece from the Mediterranean. It broke into three main parts shortly after that. In the meanwhile, more little fragments have come loose from handling and cleaning, and the Cousteau expedition discovered other fragments on the ocean floor. Fragment F was found in this fashion in 2005, suggesting that other fragments may still remain in storage, undetected since their first retrieval. The majority of the mechanism and inscriptions are found on seven of the 82 known fragments, which are also mechanically noteworthy. Additionally, 16 smaller components include inscriptions that are illegible and fragmentary.    The twelve zodiacal signs are divided into equal 30-degree sectors on a fixed ring dial that represents the ecliptic on the mechanism's front face. Even though the borders of the constellations were arbitrary, this was consistent with the Babylonian practice of allocating an equal portion of the ecliptic to each zodiac sign. The Sothic Egyptian calendar, which has twelve months of 30 days plus five intercalary days, is marked off with a rotating ring that is located outside that dial. The Greek alphabetized versions of the Egyptian names for the months are used to identify them. To align the Egyptian calendar ring with the current zodiac points, the first procedure is to spin it. Due to the Egyptian calendar's disregard for leap days, a whole zodiac sign would cycle through every 120 years.   Now we cannot show you pictures because well you couldn't see them. So we will try to describe them as best we can and we can also post them online.    The mechanism was turned by a now-lost little hand crank that was connected to the biggest gear, the four-spoked gear shown on the front of fragment A, gear b1, via a crown gear. As a result, the date indicator on the front dial was shifted to the appropriate day of the Egyptian calendar. Since the year cannot be changed, it is necessary to know the year that is currently in use. Alternatively, since most calendar cycles are not synchronized with the year, the cycles indicated by the various calendar cycle indicators on the back can be found in the Babylonian ephemeris tables for the day of the year that is currently in use. If the mechanism were in good operating order, the crank would easily be able to strike a certain day on the dial because it moves the date marker around 78 days each full rotation. The mechanism's interlocking gears would all revolve as the hand crank was turned, allowing for the simultaneous determination of the Sun's and Moon's positions, the moon's phase, the timing of an eclipse, the calendar cycle, and maybe the positions of planets.   The position of the spiral dial pointers on the two huge dials on the rear had to be observed by the operator as well. As the dials included four and five complete rotations of the pointers, the pointer had a "follower" that followed the spiral incisions in the metal. Before continuing, a pointer's follower had to be manually shifted to the opposite end of the spiral after reaching the terminal month place at either end of the spiral.   Two circular concentric scales may be seen on the front dial. The Greek zodiac signs are denoted on the inner scale, which is divided into degrees. A series of similar holes underneath the movable ring that rests flush with the surface and runs in a channel that makes up the outer scale are marked off with what appear to be days.   This outer ring has been thought to symbolize the 365-day Egyptian calendar ever since the mechanism was discovered, but new study contradicts this assumption and suggests it is really divided into 354 intervals. The Sothic and Callippic cycles had previously pointed to a 365 14-day solar year, as evidenced in Ptolemy III's proposed calendar reform of 238 BC. If one accepts the 365-day presupposition, it is acknowledged that the mechanism predates the Julian calendar reform. The dials aren't thought to represent his intended leap day, but by rotating the scale back one day every four years, the outer calendar dial may be adjusted against the inner dial to account for the effect of the extra quarter-day in the solar year.   The ring is most likely seen as a manifestation of a 354-day lunar calendar if one accepts the 354-day evidence. It is perhaps the first instance of the Egyptian civil-based lunar calendar postulated by Richard Anthony Parker in 1950, given the age of the mechanism's putative manufacture and the existence of Egyptian month names. The lunar calendar was intended to act as a daily indicator of succeeding lunations and to aid in the understanding of the Metonic(The moon phases return at the same time of year every almost precisely 19 years during the Metonic cycle. Although the recurrence is imperfect, careful examination shows that the Metonic cycle, which is defined as 235 synodic months, is only 2 hours, 4 minutes, and 58 seconds longer than 19 tropical years. In the fifth century BC, Meton of Athens determined that the cycle was exactly 6,940 days long. The creation of a lunisolar calendar is made easier by using these full integers.) and Saros(The saros, which may be used to forecast solar and lunar eclipses, is a period of exactly 223 synodic months, or around 6585.3211 days, or 18 years, 10, 11, or 12 days (depending on how many leap years there are). In what is known as an eclipse cycle, the Sun, Earth, and Moon return to about the same relative geometry, a nearly straight line, one saros time after an eclipse, and a nearly similar eclipse will take place. A sar is a saros's lower half.) dials as well as the Lunar phase pointer. Unknown gearing is assumed to move a pointer across this scale in synchrony with the rest of the mechanism's Metonic gearing. A one-in-76-year Callippic cycle correction and practical lunisolar intercalation were made possible by the movement and registration of the ring with respect to the underlying holes.   The dial also shows the Sun's location on the ecliptic in relation to the current year's date. The ecliptic serves as a useful reference for determining the locations of the Moon, the five planets known to the Greeks, and other celestial bodies whose orbits are similarly near to it.   The locations of bodies on the ecliptic were marked by at least two points. The position of the Moon was displayed by a lunar pointer, while the location of the mean Sun and the current date were also provided. The Moon position was the oldest known application of epicyclic gearing(Two gears positioned so that one gear's center spins around the other's center make up an epicyclic gear train, sometimes referred to as a planetary gearset.), and it mimicked the acceleration and deceleration of the Moon's elliptical orbit rather than being a simple mean Moon indicator that would signal movement uniformly across a circular orbit.   The system followed the Metonic calendar, anticipated solar eclipses, and computed the time of various panhellenic athletic competitions, including the Ancient Olympic Games, according to recent research published in the journal Nature in July 2008. The names of the months on the instrument closely resemble those found on calendars from Epirus in northwest Greece and with Corfu, which was formerly known as Corcyra.   Five dials are located on the rear of the mechanism: the Metonic, Saros, and two smaller ones, the so-called Olympiad Dial (recently renamed the Games dial since it did not track Olympiad years; the four-year cycle it closely matches is the Halieiad), the Callippic(a certain approximate common multiple of the synodic month and the tropical year that was put out by Callippus around 330 BC. It is a 76-year span that is an improvement over the Metonic cycle's 19 years.), and the Exeligmos(a time frame of 54 years, 33 days over which further eclipses with the same characteristics and position may be predicted.)   Both the front and rear doors of the wooden casing that houses the mechanism have inscriptions on them. The "instruction manual" looks to be behind the rear door. "76 years, 19 years" is inscribed on one of its parts, denoting the Callippic and Metonic cycles. "223" for the Saros cycle is also written. Another piece of it has the phrase "on the spiral subdivisions 235," which alludes to the Metonic dial.   The mechanism is exceptional due to the degree of miniaturization and the intricacy of its components, which is equivalent to that of astronomical clocks from the fourteenth century. Although mechanism specialist Michael Wright has argued that the Greeks of this era were capable of designing a system with many more gears, it includes at least 30 gears. Whether the device contained signs for each of the five planets known to the ancient Greeks is a subject of significant controversy. With the exception of one 63-toothed gear that is otherwise unaccounted for, no gearing for such a planetary display is still in existence.   It is quite likely that the mechanism featured additional gearing that was either removed before being placed onboard the ship or lost in or after the shipwreck due to the enormous gap between the mean Sun gear and the front of the box as well as the size and mechanical characteristics on the mean Sun gear. Numerous attempts to mimic what the Greeks of the time would have done have been made as a result of the absence of evidence and the nature of the front section of the mechanism, and of course various solutions have been proposed as a result of the lack of evidence.   Michael Wright was the first to create a model that included a simulation of a future planetarium system in addition to the existing mechanism. He said that corrections for the deeper, more fundamental solar anomaly would have been undertaken in addition to the lunar anomaly (known as the "first anomaly"). Along with the well-known "mean sun" (present time) and lunar pointers, he also provided pointers for this "real sun," Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter, and Saturn.   A solution that differs significantly from Wright's was published by Evans, Carman, and Thorndike. Their suggestion focused on the uneven spacing of the letters on the front clock face, which seemed to them to imply an off-center sun indication arrangement. By eliminating the requirement to imitate the solar anomaly, this would simplify the mechanism. Additionally, they proposed that simple dials for each individual planet would display data such as significant planetary cycle events, initial and final appearances in the night sky, and apparent direction changes rather than accurate planetary indication, which is rendered impossible by the offset inscriptions. Compared to Wright's concept, this system would result in a far more straightforward gear system with significantly lower forces and complexity.   After much investigation and labor, Freeth and Jones released their idea in 2012. They developed a concise and workable answer to the planetary indicator puzzle. They also suggest that the date pointer, which displays the mean position of the Sun and the date on the month dial, be separated to display the solar anomaly (i.e., the sun's apparent location in the zodiac dial). If the two dials are properly synced, Wright's front panel display may be shown on the other dials as well. However, unlike Wright's model, this one is simply a 3-D computer simulation and has not been physically constructed.   Similar devices A first-century BC philosophical debate by Cicero, De re publica (54-51 BC), discusses two devices that some contemporary authors believe to be some sort of planetarium or orrery, forecasting the motions of the Sun, Moon, and the five planets known at the time. After Archimedes' demise at the siege of Syracuse in 212 BC, the Roman commander Marcus Claudius Marcellus took both of them to Rome. One of these devices was the sole thing Marcellus preserved during the siege because of his admiration for Archimedes (the second was placed in the Temple of Virtue). The instrument was kept as a family heirloom, and according to Philus, who was present during a conversation Cicero imagined had taken place in Scipio Aemilianus's villa in the year 129 BC, Gaius Sulpicius Gallus, who served as consul with Marcellus's nephew in 166 BC and is credited by Pliny the Elder with being the first Roman to have written a book explaining solar and lunar eclipses, gave both a "learned explanation" and working demonstrations of the device.   According to Pappus of Alexandria (290–c. 350 AD), Archimedes had penned a now-lost treatise titled On Sphere-Making that described how to build these contraptions. Many of his innovations are described in the ancient documents that have survived, some of which even have crude illustrations. His odometer is one such instrument; the Romans later used a similar device to set their mile marks (described by Vitruvius, Heron of Alexandria and in the time of Emperor Commodus). Although the pictures in the literature looked to be practical, attempts to build them as shown had been unsuccessful. The system worked properly when the square-toothed gears in the illustration were swapped out for the angled gears found in the Antikythera mechanism.   This technique existed as early as the third century BC, if Cicero's story is accurate. Later Roman authors including Lactantius (Divinarum Institutionum Libri VII), Claudian (In sphaeram Archimedes), and Proclus (Commentary on the First Book of Euclid's Elements of Geometry) in the fourth and fifth century also make reference to Archimedes' invention.   Cicero also said that another such device was built "recently" by his friend Posidonius, "... each one of the revolutions of which brings about the same movement in the Sun and Moon and five wandering stars [planets] as is brought about each day and night in the heavens"   Given that the third device was almost certainly in Posidonius's possession by that time and that both the Archimedes-made and Cicero-mentioned machines were found in Rome at least 30 years after the shipwreck's estimated date, it is unlikely that any one of these machines was the Antikythera mechanism discovered in the wreck. The researchers who rebuilt the Antikythera mechanism concur that it was too complex to have been a singular invention.   This proof that the Antikythera mechanism was not unique strengthens the argument that there was a tradition of complex mechanical technology in ancient Greece that was later, at least in part, transmitted to the Byzantine and Islamic worlds. During the Middle Ages, complex mechanical devices that were still simpler than the Antikythera mechanism were built in these cultures.A fifth- or sixth-century Byzantine Empire geared calendar fragment that was mounted to a sundial and maybe used to help tell time has been discovered. The Caliph of Baghdad commissioned Bani Ms's Kitab al-Hiyal, also known as the Book of Ingenious Devices, in the early ninth century AD. Over a hundred mechanical devices were detailed in this document, some of which may have been found in monastic manuscripts from antiquity. Around 1000, the scholar al-Biruni described a geared calendar that was comparable to the Byzantine mechanism, and a 13th-century astrolabe also had a clockwork system that is similar to it. It's probable that this medieval technology was brought to Europe and had a part in the region's development of mechanical clocks.   Su Song, a Chinese polymath, built a mechanical clock tower in the 11th century that, among other things, measured the positions of several stars and planets that were shown on an armillary sphere that spun mechanically.   Conspiracy Corner The Antikythera Mechanism was thought to have been created between 150 and 100 BCE at first, but recent research dates its development to approximately 205 BCE. It's interesting that this technology seems to have just vanished because comparable items didn't start turning up until the 14th century. But why did the ancient Greeks permit such a significant development to be forgotten over time? Posidonius carried on the work of the Greek astronomer Hipparchus by instructing students at an astronomy academy. Posidonius invented a contraption that "in each rotation reproduces the identical motions of the Sun, the Moon and the five planets that take place in the skies every day and night," according to Cicero, one of Posidonius' students. Which remarkably resembles the Antikythera Mechanism. However, when the Mechanism was created in the second century BCE, Posidonius was not yet alive. Hipparchus was, though. Posidonius could have built an instrument based on Hipparchus' Antikythera Mechanism, which he made many years before. What about Posidonius' instrument, though? A time traveler from the future may have developed the Mechanism, or it may genuinely be a futuristic gadget that was taken back to ancient Greece and put there on purpose if it dates to the second century BCE and equivalent technology didn't start emerging until decades later. Some people think the entire thing is a hoax despite overwhelming scientific proof to the contrary. After all, it is challenging to reconcile the Antikythera mechanism's antiquity with its growth in technology. The Turk, a fictional chess-playing robot constructed in the 18th century, has been likened to the mechanism by some. But scientists easily acknowledge that The Turk is a fraud. Why would they fabricate evidence of the mechanism's reliability? What would they be attempting to conceal? Even though it is quite old, the Antikythera mechanism represented an enormous advance in technology. So how did the Greeks of antiquity come up with the concept, much alone construct it? They didn't, according to The Ancient Aliens: “Beings with advanced knowledge of astronomical bodies, mathematics and precision engineering tools created the device or gave the knowledge for its creation to someone during the first century BC. But the knowledge was not recorded or wasn't passed down to anyone else.” Therefore, aliens either provided humanity the ability to make this gadget or the knowledge to do so, but they didn't do anything to assure that we built on it or learnt from it. It seems like the aliens weren't planning ahead very well. This theory, like the extraterrestrial one, is based simply on the observation that the Antikythera mechanism seems to be too technologically sophisticated for its period. The mythical Atlantis was a highly developed metropolis that vanished into the ocean. Many people think the city genuinely exists, despite the fact that Plato only described it in a sequence of allegories. And some of those individuals believe the Antikythera mechanism proves Atlantis existed since it was too sophisticated for any known culture at the time; they believe Atlantis, not Greece, is where the mechanism originated. According to the notion of intelligent design, a higher power purposefully created many things on Earth because they are too sophisticated to have arisen by simple evolution. Because the Antikythera mechanism is so much more sophisticated than any other artifact from that age, some people think it is proof of intelligent design. If this is the case, you have to question what divine, omnipotent creature would spend time creating such a minute object for such a trivial goal. Greece's coast is home to the island of Rhodes. Greek artifacts were placed into the ship transporting the Mechanism, which was sailing for Rome. One explanation for this might be that the Antikythera mechanism was taken together with the spoils from the island of Rhodes. How come Rhodes was pillaged? following a victorious war against the Greeks, as part of Julius Caesar's triumphal procession. Could the loss of one of history's most significant and cutting-edge technical advancements be accidentally attributed to Julius Caesar? The Antikythera mechanism may have predicted the color of eclipses, which is thought to be impossible by scientists, according to new translations of texts on the device. Therefore, were the forecasts the mechanism provided only educated guesses, or did the ancient Greeks have knowledge that we do not? According to legend, an extraterrestrial species called the Annunaki (possible episode?) invaded and inhabited Earth (they were revered as gods in ancient Mesopotamia), leaving behind evidence of their presence. The Antikythera mechanism could be one of these hints. The Mechanism uses what appears to be distinct technology that was, as far as we are aware, extremely different from anything else that was built about 200 BCE. It estimates when lunar eclipses would occur, which advanced space invaders would undoubtedly know something about. An intriguing view on the process is held by Mike Edmunds from Cardiff University. The uniqueness and technological innovation of the item are frequently highlighted in reports about it. However, Edmunds speculates that the mechanism may have been in transit to a client when the ship carrying it went down. If one device was being delivered, might there possibly be others — if not on this ship, then potentially on others from Rhodes? — he asks in his essay. There may have been more of these amazing machines that have been lost to the passage of time or are still out there waiting to be found. MOVIES - films from the future - https://filmsfromthefuture.com/movies/

When a contingent of archers is mentioned in the context of Greek and Roman armies, more often than not the culture associated with them is that of Crete. Indeed, when we just have archers mentioned in an army without a specified origin, Cretan archers are commonly assumed to be meant, so ubiquitous with archery and groups of mercenary archers were the Cretans. The Cretans are the most famous, but certainly not the only ‘nation' associated with a particular fighting style (Rhodian slingers and Thracian peltasts leap to mind but there are others too). The long history of Cretan archers can be seen in the sources – according to some stretching from the First Messenian War right down to the fall of Constantinople in 1453. Even in the reliable historical record we find Cretan archer units from the Peloponnesian War well into the Roman period. Dur: 14mins File: .mp3

Episode Notes The Force Friends discuss episodes 7 and 8 of Rebels as the Ghost crew perform some minor acts of terrorism and rescue a Rhodian who probably didn’t blow up on Alderaan.On this episode: Ezra’s nice moments among a rough life Sabine freakin’ rules Some awesome space fighting Zeb and Kallus’ first date

It's big! It's bronze! This week, we'll head to the Greek island of Rhodes, and hear them undergo two separate sieges, one of which led to the mighty and short-lived Colossus. We'll also sample some classic Rhodian food with all the garlic that implies.

If you enjoy listening to trainwrecks, then this is the Chaos Radio Show for you. Speaking of trainwrecks, we discussed the teen pregnancy of Miss Jamie Lynn Spears and speculation about the baby daddy. Rockit from the LunaticRadio.com Show joined us after the first break. We spoke to our Israeli correspondent in Philadelphia who to us naughty words in Hebrew. Cringe Humor comedian Josh Goguen called in to the show to say hi and plug his appearance at the Comedy Shoppe with Patrice Oneal. Rockit convinced Rhodian to cross over to the Lunatic side, promising Cheerios and Jack Daniels. Radio war? What radio war? Oh yeah, and we let Cris sneak in a few sports stories: Jim Leyritz’s $600 a night drinking habit, and Isiah Thomas’ promising an NBA championship NEXT SEASON. Cris tried to get a good radio bet going with Rhodian, but Rho had had a little too much of what he was affectionately referring to as “John Daniels” to negotiate anything. Maybe when you can’t pronounce the name of the booze you’re drinkin’…it’s time to slow down.

Between Roger Clemens and George W. Bush, we had enough idiotic quotes to choke a dairy cow on this week’s show. Listen and learn, Heide prefers cum and sand on the face over sand in the vag. She claimed to be in a fine mood, but Rhodian knew with a little prodding he could get some rage out of her. The subject of her hissy-fit at the Comedy Shoppe show came up and she had to eat some deliciously sautéed crow. Mark Hamill is okay with Heath Ledger playing Joker in the Dark Knight, and so is Rhodian. The next question is, who’s going to be the next Superman in the Justice League movie? Hopefully Rhodian will like him better than Brandon Routh. Right now all he really cares about is the new Rambo movie coming out this month. We discussed the new biography of Tom Cruise and debated whether it holds any water. We talked about the effects of the writer’s strike on television programs, especially the weird-ass People’s Choice Awards. Late night television takes a dive, with Letterman hitting rock bottom.There was some debate over the hotness of redheads. Heide turns her no-game-having nose up at them.

We’re not kidding this time. Chaos Radio is really back online. Heide, Rhodian, and producer Cris have returned, in all of their foul-mouthed, ball busting glory. We covered the assassination of Benazir Bhutto, with some exclusive audio that may suggest Hannah Montana is responsible for the former Pakistani Prime Minister’s death. Heide bragged about getting her degree and talked about the hot chicks in her WWII simulation class. We blame the victims of the San Francisco tiger attack for their own misfortune. Heide and the boys get in a pointless gender role argument. We also disproved a recent study that says singing birds can make you horny. Turns out canaries aren’t sexy after all. Stand up comedian and Cringe Humor Radio host, Jeremy Schachter, called in to discuss the end of Court tv and its new incarnation as Tru tv. Rhodian managed to get some digs in on Jeremy’s boss Starr Jones during the call. You should check out Jeremy’s website, www.standupjeremy.com to find out all the up and comer is up to. Cris had a great story about his unpleasant run-in with a NYC cabbie this week, and we called his buddy Brent to back him up. Then Rhodian and Heide barely let Cris squeeze in a few sports stories before things degenerated into nonsense. By this time in the show, Rhodian’s nasty Jack Daniels and cranberry juice cocktail had him pretty well in the bag, so things got a little loud. Hear Rhodian’s excitement about the new Rambo flick coming out in January, and exclusive audio of Queen Elizabeth’s latest television address and Pope Palpatine, er…Benedict at midnight xmas mass. Check out our last show of 2007 and the grand reopening of the Chaos Radio Show studio.

Heide discussed her rendezvous across enemy lines, how she jinxed herself by telling a pant-crapping story, and Cris declares Lunatic Radio the losers of the Radio War. Heide’s story inspired Alix, Rhodian, and Cris to share their own urgent poop stories. We heard audio about Michael Vick jerseys being used to clean out dog kennels as details are released about his part in executing innocent lil’ doggies. Cris searched the internet for Herve Villechaize’s artsy black and white porno, but only came up with a ponderous video of one of the late little-man’s live singing performances. We invited our listeners to send fan mail to that wacky guy, Jonathan Lee Riches, who is currently bringing lawsuits against Michael Vick, Barry Bonds, Bud Selig…and Hank Aaron’s bat. Alix’s arch-nemesis, Bizarro, called in just to annoy Al. A smelly burping bum tries to hitch a ride with Rhodian, and Cris talks about his intolerance for homosexuality, pissing Heide off, as usual.

So the Radio War continues. Heide was mysteriously absent and we have to wonder if it had something to do with LunaticRadio.com's rant about us last Monday. Of course we don't take kindly to ridicule, so brace yourself for Rhodian's grunts of anger and requests for blood. We tried to do something that resembles a radio show, but we just couldn't get past the RADIO WAR. We reviewed audio of Lunatic Radio's tirade and figured out that they are contradicting themselves. If they are a live internet radio talk show, why do they want to win a podcast award so bad? We break down their pathetic attempt to be recognized by a phony award show. We also touch on Barry Bonds breaking the homerun record, but Alix and Rhodian were too distracted by random boobs and ass in the chat room. By the way, not on this show is the 3 hours of additional time we did after the show was over. You really have to start listening to the show live if you want to get the whole chaos experience. Boobs and ass flooded our webcam chat room. Be there next Friday as this Radio War continues and maybe Heide will back.

No Heide again this Friday so the boys made another go at doing it without her, while she soaked up the sun in ol' New Mexico. What was supposed to be a clip show, with some of the best moments of Chaos Radio over the last year turned into a breast filled four hour marathon that was most unexpected. We couldn't take our eyes off the chat room as one of our loyal listeners showed us her massive double d's as well as her self ass spanking. It was good too considering we had nothing and for the first time we have to say the chat room actually carried the show. Maybe the chat room isn't as bad as we thought. We also discussed one of Cris' Pug meet up pals getting beat up by her boyfriend, Alix admits his wife used foul ethnic insults in bed and Rhodian comes out about being propositioned at the Lunatic Radio bar night.

While Heide was recounting a bit she loved on fellow Cringe Humor Radio program, the Cousin Joe Show, Cris decided it would be a good time to test out Alix’s new and improved shock device on Rhodian. It was much more effective then the oversized Mr. Wizard looking apparatus from last week, but it seemed to deliver more of a burn than a jolt. Later on Alix tried his invention and described the feeling as if both of his arms were being tightly squeezed and taking a hard punch to the chest. Nothing like homemade torture. Hiede revealed her psychic ability to bring death on her enemies and Cousin Joe called in to commiserate. She also spoke of handicapped individual and how he was the bane of her existence, which prompted the creation of horny retard Heide. Everything seemed to take a back seat when we found out that Cris was the double dutch champion two years running at his elementary school. He explained that it was his only way to avoid daily beatings from grade school “schwoogie” thugs. All that plus we provide some in-depth analysis on some top news stories. From a filthy Long Island house full of piss and shit to the rat infested KFC in Manhattan’s West Village, they sure do rat… errr … chicken right.