Chapter 2: The Gaul Mission
The general’s plan was simple.
Fakir Antantos and Fukur Salamantan would infiltrate the Gauls, gather information, and return to Rome.
But in reality, the general had another motive.
“These two idiots will definitely get caught on the first day. That way I’ll get rid of them and won’t have to write any reports.”
he thought.
And so, the pair set off on what would become the most unsuccessful intelligence mission in Roman history.
After days of travel, they arrived at a village in northern Gaul.
On the wooden sign at the village entrance, written in large letters, were the words:
“Village of Brave Resistance”
The villagers were indeed brave.
But they were also quite hot-tempered and impatient.
Just then, Fakir Antantos’s stomach began to growl.
He had barely eaten anything decent during the journey.
And, as usual, he didn’t have a single coin in his pocket.
At that moment, he spotted a young Gaul carrying a huge roasted pork leg.
Antantos’s eyes lit up.
“In the name of Rome, I confiscate this!”
he shouted, snatching the pork leg and devouring it with great enthusiasm.
The village square suddenly fell silent.
Everyone was staring at him.
Fukur, meanwhile, had buried his face in his hands.
“Oh, Antantos… We’ve only been in the village for three minutes.”
A few seconds later, all the villagers pounced on them.
The outcome was no different than expected.
The two companions found themselves in the village jail, right next to the pigsty.
Fukur let out a deep sigh.
“You’ve done it again. We didn’t even make it to the spying part.”
Just then, he noticed a young prisoner in the opposite cell.
An idea came to Fukur.
“There’s our source of information!”
For hours, they asked questions.
“How many warriors are in the village?”
“Where are the weapons?”
“Who is your chief?”
But the young man didn’t say a single word.
Eventually, Fukur lost his patience.
“Antantos, go take a look. Maybe he can’t hear us.”
Antantos walked over to the iron bars.
He poked the young man.
No reaction.
He poked him again.
Suddenly, the young man’s head came off and fell into Antantos’s hands.
Antantos screamed in terror.
“Aaaaa! I broke his head off!”
In a panic, he threw what he was holding.
And of course…
The head flew straight into Fukur’s face.
Fukur tumbled to the ground.
There was a few seconds of silence.
Then laughter erupted from the opposite cell.
It turned out the “prisoner” wasn’t real at all.
It was a wooden dummy used in the villagers’ new combat training exercises.
The guards were laughing so hard they could barely stand.
“Are these really spies?”
“No, at best they’re traveling jesters!”
However, while the guards were laughing, there was one thing they failed to notice.
Amid the laughter, the key to the cell had fallen to the ground…
And Fukur Salamantan’s eyes locked onto it.
Perhaps Rome’s two dumbest soldiers…
Were about to do something useful for the first time.
To be continued…
