“It feels like it’s time,” Milon ventured from the other side of the Centurion.
Alerio raised up and peered over the heads of the Legionaries and the mass of soldiers heaving forward. After a brief glance, he settled to his heels and extended his arms out from his sides.
“Archers, go,” Centurion Sisera ordered. “Javelins, make them count.”
Then he was silent but watching with his head swiveling from right to left and back again. On either side, two archers and three javelin throwers raced to the ends of the Legion line. Once there, they studied the flanks of the Qart Hadasht formation. After carefully choosing targets, the Legionaries let loose flights of arrows and javelins.
Qart Hadasht Captains were jerked backwards, or they collapsed immediately to the ground with iron barbs buried in their bodies. Alerio noted the devastation to the Empire’s command structure.
“Optio. Tesserarius. Stand by,” Alerio ordered.
“Standing by, Centurion,” the NCOs called out.
Immediately, the frustrated Legionaries on the shield wall responded.
“Standing by.”
They were bruised and a few wounded from the assault. But they held the defensive line.
“Advance, advance, advance,” Alerio commanded.
And as if lightening surged along the line, the defensive wall came alive. Twenty-four infantry scutums shot forward. From a stationary barrier, the hard wood became a short-range projectile weapon. Rocked by the sudden change in dynamics, the mercenaries on the front rank staggered. Then before they could recover, gladii powered by angry Legionaries struck flesh.
The knees of the forward line of Empire soldiers buckled and their arms dropped to try and stem the flow of blood. But they didn’t have a heartbeat of time to tend to their wounds. The next jolt from the wall of shields shoved them to the ground and the Legion line stepped forward.
A wounded Qart Hadasht mercenary looked up to see the legs of a Latian straddling him. In a smooth draw, he pulled his hunting knife and raised his arm. His blade reached for the artery under the soft tissue of the Legionary’s inner thigh. Then his view was blocked by the sole of a hobnailed boot. The soldier’s face crumpled, and he died under the Legion stomp.
“And stay dead, this time,” Corporal Milon sneered. The NCO stepped forward to keep pace with the combat line while being alert for more active wounded.
The second rank of mercenaries caught the synchronized blades. Guts fell from bellies, cōleī were severed, and thighs cleaved. Smells unique to close-in fighting invaded the nostrils of every man in the battle.
It might have been the odors, the relentless shields in their faces, or their casualties from the coordinated blade strikes. In any case, the fact that they had been sacrificed in a first wave by the Qart Hadasht commanders and then left without new orders since the assault began broke their resolve. The fourth rank of Empire soldiers backed away.
They ran into the fifth rank which happened to be a Company from another country. Without a common tongue and no Captains to maintain order, the two ranks almost came to blows. But a universal language passed between the diverse units when the Legion shields and blades mangled the third rank of mercenaries. Panic transcended linguistics and the soldiers of the Empire understood. They ran from the Legion assault.
“Top heavy command,” Milon gushed. “You were right, sir. Take out their Captains and they are leaderless.”
Alerio glanced up at the sun to judge the time of day, then around the battlefield.
“Where do we stand?” he questioned.
“Sir, we are short of arrows and javelins,” Melton stated. “and we have five wounded.”
“Orders, Centurion Sisera?” Optio Pontus asked. There was respect, above that due an officer, in the senior NCO’s voice.
“We will maintain this formation,” Alerio replied. “But when they come, we’ll pivot and place the hill at our backs.”
“That sounds like a last stand maneuver,” Milon observed.
“Unfortunately, it is,” Alerio confessed. “I am all out of tricks.”
“One is enough, sir,” Decanus Baccio suggested. He came off the line covered in gore. His gladius, still dripping red fluid, was extended towards the Qart Hadasht forces. “Looks like we get a reprieve.”
Rather than forming up for a second attack, the Empire Companies were setting up tents and starting cookfires.
“Is she satisfied?” an infantryman inquired. Twisted around from the assault line, his face glowed with sweat and was covered in drops of blood.
“Is who satisfied?” Pontus questioned.
“The Goddess Nenia, Optio,” the Legionary clarified.
“Sir. Is she?” the NCO asked Alerio.
“Nenia Dea’s mission, like the Legion’s, is never done,” Alerio avowed. Then he thought for a moment and added. “But no. Today, you had so many clean kills, she did not have much business. Maybe tomorrow, you could just wound a few rather than outright murder the mercenaries.”
“Sir, that’s hard to do in the heat of battle,” another infantryman offered.
“Then I’ll make you a deal,” Alerio said. “You kill them, and I’ll sacrifice a lamb to the Goddess to make amends for the skills of my Legionaries. Deal?”
“Rah!” the infantrymen roared back.
Chapter 4 - Unexpected Implications
Even though the Empire Companies were busy eating, resting and, no doubt, selecting new Captains, Alerio kept the detachment on quarter alert. With only three commanders in the headquarters’ section of his Century, Alerio chose the third shift. It left Pontus and Milon to decide about the rest of the night but allowed Alerio to be awake when the sun came up.
“How are you doing, Legionary?”
The question came from the dark behind the infantryman. Then, Centurion Sisera emerged from the dark, further startling the sentry.
“Good, sir,” he managed to blurt out after collecting his wits. “How are you?”
Alerio smiled in the dark and lightened his voice so as not to intimidate the young man.
“Considering we have a mess of mercenaries coming to die on our blades at first light,” Alerio replied. “I’m doing alright. How did you do yesterday?”
“I kept my shield tight against my partner’s and got my gladius into three soldiers,” he bragged.
“I noticed you,” Alerio lied. In the fight, he was too busy to watch any specific infantryman. “You held when others almost folded. Thank you for that.”
“It’s what I was trained to do, sir,” the Legionary admitted.
“What’s your name?”
“Equilis, Centurion.”
“Legionary Equilis. You preform like that today and we’ll survive this,” Alerio coached him before slipping away.
In the silence left by the departing Centurion, his squad leader asked, “Who was that, Equilis?”
“Centurion Sisera. He came to say thank you to me,” the young infantryman boasted.
“As well he should,” the squad leader confirmed. “For your first time in combat, you acted like a veteran.”
Then the squad leader rolled over and went back to sleep. If the Centurion could lie, so could a Decanus. But the words helped. From a frightened youth, Legionary Equilis stood straighter and vowed to live up to the confidence they had in him.
All around the camp, sentries were visited by Centurion Sisera. He left every one of them with a feeling of self-assurance. Then the sun came up. A lot of the self-confidence faded at the sight of multiple ranks of mercenaries preparing to attack.
***
“Optio Pontus, correct me if I am wrong,” Alerio pleaded. “It appears to me that the Empire patrol has grown.”
“You are not wrong, sir,” the NCO acknowledged. “They seemed to have brought in additional Companies under cover of darkness.”
“Are they that afraid of us?” Milon questioned.
Alerio surveyed his thirty Legionaries. Thanks to wounded and d
ead, all of them were dressed in heavy infantry armor, although some had combined Legion and mercenary gear. But all of them carried a spear, a shield, and a gladius or a sword. As formidable as three squads of Republic infantry were, his detachment paled in size compared to the forces of the Empire.
“Unfortunately, we are not three hundred Spartans at Thermopylae,” Alerio offered. “We lack the terrain to repulse wave after wave of Immortals.”
“What do you mean, sir?” Milon inquired.
“That hill only rises about fifty feet and has a mild grade on one side,” Alerio explained. “It is not as steep as I’d like for a defensive position.”
“It’s preferable to standing in the open and getting bear hugged by the Empire,” Pontus remarked. “At least, they will be fighting uphill to reach us.”
“I thought we’d wait to move,” Alerio described. “In light of their reinforcements, it won’t matter if they know we are going for the hill. Move them now, Optio.”
Thirty Legionaries, two supply mules, and two limping wounded moved in a file uphill to the low summit. Behind, they left two shallow graves and a mess of broken equipment.
***
“It’s something,” squad leader Baccio announced from the top. He spun and looked down the slope and across the flat area to where a mercenary Company was falling into formation. “This is not the hill you want to die on.”
“What are you saying Decanus?” a squad member asked.
“Just a warning to the doomed soldiers,” Baccio replied. Then he added while pointing with his spear. “Nenia Dea. Take them with care, as is a warrior’s right.”
Corporal Milon, who had worried about the Legionaries being frightened by the mention of the Goddess of Death, relaxed as he neared the hilltop.
The Legionaries at the summit and those marching uphill chanted.
“Nenia Dea
You hover just out of sight
But death is called
To claim lives
With gentle hands so light
Take the soldiers with care
As is a warrior’s right
Goddess of Death, Nenia Dea
Hear our plight
As you hover just out of sight”
Alerio also heard the chant. He whispered a short prayer of his own while climbing.
“Nenia Dea, if you must take me or any of my Legionaries,” Alerio begged, “all I ask is that you make it fast.”
Then he reached the hilltop and began organizing a two-rank defensive formation. On the back side of the hill, he placed the third squad. During the fighting, he would rotate the rear guard forward to keep fresh arms facing the enemy.
“It’s going to be a good fight,” Baccio declared.
Optio Pontus studied the mass of Qart Hadasht soldiers. There was nothing good about the difference between five Companies of mercenaries and his three squads.
***
With ten shields and gladii on the front rank and ten Legionaries with spears on the second, the Legion detachment offered a deadly greeting for the mercenaries.
“Brace,” Optio Pontus yelled.
The arms and legs of the ten infantrymen stiffened and the shields molded into a solid barrier. It caught the Empire soldiers, stopping the charge.
“Get them off our shields,” Pontus instructed.
Legionaries in the second rank poked and jabbed over the front rank’s shoulders. Empire soldiers fell back either to avoid the spears or from injuries.
“It’s going to be a long day,” Alerio observed.
He and the Tesserarius stood back, ready to jump in if their line buckled.
“If we last that long, sir,” Milon replied.
Alerio indicated the rear of the attacking mercenaries. Unlike the assault the day before, there was a single one-hundred-man Company opposing them. The other units fell into columns and marched off to the east.
“So much for our stopping the Empire from moving into Republic territory,” Alerio grumbled. Then he thought about the Corporal’s remark. “Three-to-one odds, Tesserarius. How good are our Legionaries?”
“Better than that,” the Corporal reported. He smiled and drew his gladius. “As long as we…”
Milon ran forward and hacked at mercenaries who attempted to climb the rough slope and slip around the end of the Legion formation. Between the corner man in the second rank and the Corporal, they stacked up three bodies. With the dead soldiers acting as a barrier, Milon stepped back to Alerio.
“As long as we keep fresh blades at the front,” he exclaimed. “We can hold them off until dark.”
“Optio. Rotate them,” Alerio ordered. “Milon, bring over the reserves.”
“Second rank stand by to move forward,” the Sergeant called out. As soon as the men on the line finished repeating his words, he ordered. “First rank rotate out. Second, draw and execute.”
In practiced moves, the second rank stuck their spears in the dirt and drew their gladii. The first rank shoved forward with their shields before folding back between the advancing second rank. Now in the rear, they sheathed their blades and plucked the spears out of the soil.
The three heartbeats of time required to switch barely registered with the mercenaries at the front. To them, the shields simply shifted. But to the Legionaries who had been delivering powerful jabs and hacks at the front, the switch gave them a much-needed reprieve. And for the detachment, having fresh Legionaries, manning the shield wall, meant they could continue fighting hard while the soldiers tired.
Tesserarius Milon arrived with the third squad and the exhausted men peeled off the shield wall and were replaced by a line of men who had not fought that day.
“Rear security,” Milon directed the newly relieved squad. “Call out if they start coming up the slope. Other than that, have a drink.”
“We know, Tesserarius,” one stated. “We’ll be called back soon enough.”
The ten shuffled to the back side of the summit and dropped to the ground. Meanwhile, the fighting at the shield wall continued.
***
Young Equilis and his squad had rotated to the front four times. As the least experienced infantryman in his squad, the older Legionaries covered for any mistakes. But they, like the rest of the detachment, were growing tired. The breaks helped, but full recovery required a longer time than the rotation allowed.
“Pontus. Rotate them,” Alerio instructed. “Milon, bring over the reserves.”
“Second rank stand by to move forward,” the Optio announced. Once everyone knew what was about to happen, he ordered. “First rank rotate out. Second, draw and execute.”
The front rank jabbed their shields into the mercenaries’ faces and stepped backward. As they passed between the shields, Equilis stumbled into the man coming off the line. Tangled together, their shields shifted, creating a gap.
Three Empire soldiers stabbed into the jumbled bodies. When both Legionaries fell, the mercenaries stepped into the break. For the first time that morning, there was a dangerous separation in the Legion line.
Centurion Sisera cried out in frustration, drew his gladius, and leaped to the breach.
For a moment, the Qart Hadasht soldiers found themselves ahead of their companions. Surprised at their success, they stopped. Two glanced back, looking to see if other mercenaries were following.
Alerio Sisera twisted at the hip and kicked with his right leg. The toe of his hobnailed boot drove into the flesh under the mercenary’s armor. His floating ribs blasted into a section of his lungs.
Adding to the soldier’s misery, his body lifted from the ground and crashed into the soldier on his right. Looking the other way, that mercenary was not prepared to be thrown off his feet. They both tumbled to the ground, landing at the ankles of Legion infantrymen.
Fighting to close the gap, the Legionaries suddenly found two of the breachers at their feet. Slashes with the gladii, smashes with the shields, and stomps with their boots ended that threat.
Alerio
dropped his leg and tapped the inside of his boots together. When they touched, he bent his knees, and twirled to his right. The gladius, he launched from his right hand to his left hand. As his body pivoted, the blade dipped under the third soldier’s sword, and swiped across at an upward angle. The soldier’s weapon fell from two bleeding and crippled arms.
The mercenary suffered from the pain in his upper arms. But Alerio carved a semicircle in the air and brought his gladius blade back across the Empire soldier’s throat. The man’s agony ended, and the Legion officer backed off the line.
“We have him, Centurion,” a Legionary said to Alerio.
Two men grabbed the breacher and pulled his body away from the shield wall. Legionaries shifted sideways until they met the infantrymen from the other side of the breach. The gap closed while the fighting continued.
Agitated and worried about the exhausted state of his detachment, Alerio snatched the shield from Equilis’ corpse. Fueled by a need to protect his infantrymen, Centurion Sisera shouldered by the second rank and muscled his way to the front of the shield wall.
“Allow him to pass bravely,” Alerio sang while smashing a mercenary with his shield. “His comrades call his elegy.”
Following the smash, Centurion Sisera stabbed with the gladius. But he did more than jab. At the fullest extension of his arm, his wrist snapped back and forth.
“We sing Memento Mori, for this man’s end”
The blade pierced flesh, then ripped out the side and sliced another Empire warrior before withdrawing behind the infantry shield.
The two soldiers fell. And momentarily, the pressure on the center of the Legion line eased off.
“Remembering we will all die”
To fill in and keep weight on the enemy, the mercenary Captain ordered his Company to move forward. Unfortunately for the Qart Hadasht soldiers, the two moving forward to the shield wall assumed they would have a chance to settle in.
“Release these mercenaries, these sons of man”
Alerio chanted while taking a half step forward. The two soldiers did not get the opportunity to drop into the guard position. On their last step, a Legion infantry shield floated out and hit them as hard as a charging bull. Rocked, they stopped.
Muted Implications (Clay Warrior Stories Book 12) Page 3
