I really did not expect Crassus to order the crucifixion of the 6000 slaves of the Sparticus revolt.
The logistics of supplying enough road side crosses was no small problem. But Romans were are good at organising events such as that now in progress.
Crassuss had purchased forest land that lay back from the via Appia and soldier carpenters went to work creating the display cross beams complete with (unattached crotch peg) otherwise known as a sedile.
I watched as a captured youth was thrown onto his back. A soldier pulled away the small wedge of cloth that he had worn on his death march and which barely covered the golden pubic hair of his groin reducing him to full nakedness...
The crotch peg he wore around his neck had been fashioned to look like a phallus. It was pulled off in readiness for fixing at the appropriate time in the appropriate place which was in between the legs.
Nails were readied and smashed through his wrists with smooth practised efficiency. Lashed to the patibulum he had carried on his death march he could do nothing but wail and scream as two strong soldiers hoisted him up onto the waiting death post which completed his assembled cross.
They splayed the legs wide holding them against either side of the post exposing him in the most indecent of manner while another soldier fitted the crotch peg.
The young slave could see the smile flashed up at him as he felt rough calloused hands groping to find the slot fashioned for the peg. It was hammered into place under the privates making him look double phallused. This was a small amusement concoted by the practised cruelty of Roman soldiers.
When the slave exhausted his writhings caused by pushing up on the nails in his ankles he would then eventually sag on nails in the wrists and settle down to squat over the sedile like a some jockey riding the peg in a spectacle of obscenity.
The peg would hold him firmly in place, even when he briefly collapsed. But soon conciousness would return, the sedile preventing suffocation by bearing his weight, keeping him alive for a long time.
The soldiers walked away not even looking back at the screaming writhing young rebel. Young or old it did not matter to them in the execution of their duty.
Along the roadway another skinny young slave staggered under the weight of the patibulum. Two soldiers supported the cross beam either side as e was barely able to hold the crossbeam up across his shoulders. Wide eyed and terrified he watched his ex comrade in arms scream displayed as a living screaming scare-crow.
"Over here, hurry up" Called the supervising centurion.
He pointed to the next roadside cross post. This one was younger. A soldier waited squatting at the base of the cross with a nail held in between his lips. The leather apron he wore had a large pocket at the front in which he fumbled for more nails..
This is the true nature of crucifixion the price paid by slaves, rebels and anyone who would dare to challenge the might of Rome...
To be continued....
An extract of the book in progress. "Price of Rebellion" By Sejanus Praetorian