Year 102 AD, Scythia Minor : The army of Decebalus, helped by the Roxolani Sarmatians lead by Susagus and the fierce Bastarnae, fought a number of battles against the imperial roman army, lead by Marcus Ulpius Trajanus. Heavily outnumbered and tired after the unsuccsesfull crossing of the Ister and the defeat from Nicopole, the army of the Dacians and their allies retreated inland to a last stand...

The young man set on a patch of dark soil looking with saddnes towards the deep horizont, wich was blooded in red streams by the last rays of the sun wich was going down on the sky, beyond the grey hills. In his large, brown eyes, tears where flashing. He tried to hide his tears from the face of his comrades.
Suddenly, he felt a strong hand on his sholder, a warm hand wich he knew much to well:
- Father...
The man turned towards him smiling descreetly under his grey beard :
- Zantiala, your thoughts still fly away to Zina... it seems that the young shepherd-girl took away your mind.
- But father.. i miss her so much ! And i do not know whether she cares for me or not.
- My son, in times of war there is no time for love. Better think at your sword . Your sword should be strong instead !
- I will not dissapoint you tommorow.
- If you will dissapoint someone tommorow, that one will be you !
The man stood down near Zantiala, looking forward towards the hills, and even further away, to the deep mists of the Ister.
- The scouts bring no good news... we barely managed to cross the Ister, and we where not able to win at Nicopolis, and now, Trajan has sorrounded us with more than 50 000 man and we have no way to retreat. The army of the romans... warriors made out of fifteen different nations, many of them unknown to us, some of them might have came here from the very edges of the world... not to speak of the famous italic legions. Dogs, nothing more than roman dogs !
- We could try to flee to the north, towards the Peucine fords. The Romans knew not of those places.
- And neither you knew much of what you speak. The Roxolanii have brought with them their women, their children, all their goods. And the Bastarnae.. the bastarnae speak about bravery, that they alone shall cut a path for us trough the legions of Trajan. How could it come that we, the Dacians flee, and thei remain to fight, just because Zantiala has fallen ill with love and saddnes, said the older man laughing.
 The young man smiled, and binding his hand to his father`s.
 - Tommorow will be a great day, father. You shall not be ashamed by me.
 - Of that i am sure. If it would have been otherwise, i would not have taken you with me. Too bad your brother Bicilis did not come. I`m sure his arrows would have killed many !Now, i must leave, we will have council with the other leaders... and if you miss so much a girl, go to my tent and take my bag in wich i keep my denarii, take three of them and buy yourself a Sarmatian women tonight to keep you warm !
 - My heart would not let me do such thing, my father... and such things do`nt bring honor to a Dacian. And even if we are on the lands occupied by Romans, the gods still see us !
 - Vezina has tought you well. May the night bring wise councel to you, my good son !
Zantiala hurried towards his tent, stretching himself on the confortable bear`s fell.He tried to find a more comfortable position spinning around in his tent.After some time, he woke up and he started searching in his bag for the small idols, wich he placed down in his front. He slowly kneeled and started whispering:
- You, my Father, the Sky, may your will guide me on all the roads from my life... may your ruthless winds guide and protect me from the enemies, and may my arm be as strong as the fiery voice of your tunders.. And you, Mother Earth, you, who gave life to me, master of all things on Earth, may you protect my journeys from the bite of the snake, protect my steps from the temptations of the endless pit of sorrow.. listen to my prayers, Gods !

Just before morning, a few hours before the sunrise, the horns sounded in all the camp. The scouts arrived on horseback, bringing news of war, shouting in all directions in the camp to the soldiers to prepare for the battle, because the roman army, numerous as the sands from the seashore was marching towards them, lead in person by Emperor Trajan.

Zantiala woke from his tent, prepared his sword and hurried to meet his father, who was just preparing his horse for the battle.
- Come, you ! In two hours the romans are upon us, we need to hurry !
- Wait, father, for me to get on horseback, to prepare my weapons ! Where are Duda and Roles ?
- Do not worry for them, i have sent them to fight along the footman on the Sarmatian flank, each of them under their own flags. They should keep the Romans at bay some time, until Susagus hit them in the back with his horseman.
- Did the Getae sent us help ? From Ramidava, from the valley of Museon, any man ? What about the Carpians ?
- Little if any help ! Alutania is beeing devastated by the Romans, they put fire on the grains, they took over the villages and killed numerous people. Those who managed to escape, fled to the Land of the mountains !The Carpians have sent us only two flags, small number of man.
- We will loose, father...
- It may be so, but even so, we will weaken the army of Trajan !
 Towards the East, beyond the mists of the Sea, the son has begin to rise, sending his first rays over the wast plains of Scythia Minor, covered with tiny patches of dirty, brown snow. Coming from the distant sea, a strong, cold wind was blowing bringing a bitter taste into the hearts of the men.
 The soldiers quikly left the camp. The Dacians left all, taking with them all their goods, but not from the fear of Romans but from the fear of their fellow allies, the greedy Bastarnae. The Bastarnae left the camp earlyer, in hurry, in order to be the first to face the enemy, while the Sarmatians left a number a few hundred lightly armored footman to guard their wagon camp built upon a nearby hill. Some of the Sarmatians, lightly armored horse archers, fled in hurry to meet the romans, while the cataphracts lead by Susagus went down on the road to Dionysopolis, in the hope that the thick woods and small hills from the lands of Callatis will cover them from the watcfull eyes of the Roman scouts, and enable them to hit from behind the unprepared enemy army.

After some time, the light cavalry of the Sarmatians returned, with its ranks thinned. They ran trough the Dacian army, screaming in their strange tongue words wich few could understand.
- What might have happened to them to make them scream like that, like some wicked wild man ?
- We shall see what behind that hill...
The Dacian vanguard stopped together with the Bastarnae and started to hit their shields and swords violently.
- The army of Trajan... you, those from the front, you fools, stand still !
 Beyond the hill, further beyond a large muddy valley, was the Roman Army arranged in line of battle. In the first line, Trajan has sent a number of wildman to fight, brave, tall and strong in their bright, tatooed bodies, brought from somewhere in the north... they where feared man, who knew well to fight bared chasted only with a large, wooden club.
- Be carefull, Zantiala... Trajan shall send these man and many other fools to fight and die  against us!
Beyond the wildman, there was another line of man dressed in scale armour, bearing long, courved swords and small bows. They had their faces covered in thick, blue weils, and only their fiery black eyes could be seen. They shouted strange words in a language that was unlike anyone heard. Beyond them, where the Syrian Archers arranged in line of battle, and the famous italic legions.
- Where are the cavalry of the romans, i cannot see it...
- I think they wait for us to make the first move... Trajan is cautious, very cautios. Some might say there is wisdom in his cautiousness.
 From the ranks of the Bastarnae, a rider came out, and he rode with his stallion, in provocative circles in front of the Dacian army. He had in his hand a great blooded axe, while his pale face was covered by a black cloack. He was carying a long, brownie belt on wich where attached some skulls of long, dead enemyes. He started speaking in a bad dacian tongue "
 - You, Dacians, you call yourself as children of the sun, brothers of the wolfs wich ruthlessly hunt the great, dark forests, but even from the times of Oroles we knew well that you are the last to fight and the first to flee !
 - Glot, said towards him Zoltes, what was in the time of Oroles was a long time ago. Now, your people are nothing more than subject to us !And if you believe yourself to be that brave, make a path for us trough the roman rank... any gold and plunder you shall find, take it for you, heathen !And do not forget to take some roman heads !
 - We shall do then your job, also, responded the Bastarnae laughing.
 He turned his horse towards his own people, shouting to them words of encaouragament in their wild, bitter tongue. They, in their turn, started to taunt the romans screaming wildly, fluttering in air their swords and axes. Some of the Bastarnae wielded large scythes, some as large as they could be maneuvered only with two hands.
 - Zantiala, said Zoltes. My wisdom tells me not to attack yet.But if we cannot make the heathen bastarnae doe otherwise, then we shall go after them in the battle, continued Zoltes raising in the air the Dacian standard, the mighty Dracones.
 And now, soldies, listen to me ! Here, in the fields of Scythia Minor, we meet with our greatest foes. We knew them well, some of us have met them also at Tapae, and not just there. And for those who do not knew them, do not worry your hearth with foolish thoughts ! The romans are also man, and they die as well! And even more, they scream terrible when they die. So, take up the horns... be strong, the Gods are with us !

(to be continued)