“We need to get to the villa,” Alerio advised while Civi strapped on the shield. “But first the herd needs to be thinned. Or we will just be leading a mob to the Senator.”
“Yes, sir. I am open to suggestions,” the NCO agreed. He tightened down the straps until the shield felt as if it was part of his arm. Then he noticed that Alerio did not have a shield. “Centurion Sisera, what are you proposing?”
“I need you in the center of the combat line,” Alerio remarked while ignoring the question. “Once the Etruscans are a manageable size, get to the villa.”
“We have talked about this hero stuff before, sir,” Civi advised.
“And you are still a one note musician,” Alerio stated. He grabbed the NCO’s shoulders and walked the man to the center of the line. “Get in there and keep them off my flanks.”
***
The guards at the center of the formation had no complaints when Civi shoved aside their scutums. One more shield to catch the Etruscan’s strikes was fine with them. Then a grating, almost the tone of an iron spoon skating across a ceramic dish, assaulted their ears. Too busy fending off knives and swords, it was impossible for them to turn around and search for the source. They need not bother. The song came to them.
“A sacrifice, a dance, and a prayer”
Centurion Sisera elbowed in between Civi and a guard.
“Asking the Goddess Anna Perenna
To usher in a good year”
The Legion officer paused briefly before he parted the shields. As if rushing through swinging doors, Sisera leaped forward.
“Couples work on trust
Men of business fuss”
Swinging his blades at neck level, Alerio forced the Etruscans to lean back and match his elevated striking zone. When the two in front of him did, the Centurion dropped into a deep squat. Throwing a leg back, he waited for the barbarians to reach down and defend their legs. They did. Resembling a frog, Alerio jumped for the sky.
“And all citizens sing hosanna”
For Anna Perenna
Goddess of the New Year”
Soaring above their shoulder height, Alerio switched grips on his hilts, and stabbed downward with both gladii. Momentum carried him between the barbarians and the depth of his blades yanked them over backwards. The Centurion landed on his knees.
“Towering voices boomed
To the argument he zoomed
Why do you yell and swear
Papi questioned the affair”
“Brace, advance, advance,” Optio Civi Affatus ordered.
Three more Etruscans joined the two killed by the Legion officer. Pulling his gladii free, Alerio rolled into and through the second rank of Etruscans.
“On New Year’s Eve you dare”
From behind the mob, Alerio whirled blades. Cutting bodies as he turned from left to right, his slashes dropped three more.
Several Etruscans turned to face him. But the advance of the Legion line threatened to evaporate the ranks in front of them. Rather than go after a man walking between swirling blades, they faced the shields.
“The law is to even the books
All debts are to be paid on the Ides
Even those of this crook”
Alerio dove between the shields and came up behind the Legion line.
“We have this under control,” Civi shouted over his shoulder. “Get to the villa.”
Five Legionaries armed with gladii and infantry scutums were more than a match for seven healthy and a few wounded barbarians. Alerio spun and for a moment caught the eyes of Lady Aquila.
Just as his mother did during times of crisis, her mouth was set in a reassuring smile and she held herself proudly with her shoulders back. Then, she nodded in the direction of the villa. And in that tiny motion the façade broke revealing Aquila’s true feelings. She was worried sick about her husband.
“So am I, ma’am,” Alerio vowed as he sprinted by the lady heading for the main house.
Chapter 19 – More than Expected
Alerio reached the rear doorway and crossed the threshold in full strike. It required little analysis to establish targets in the dining room.
The pair of household guards bled on the tile floor as did three barbarians. Surprisingly, Belen held a shield. Blood flowing from a scalp wound and drops from a cut on his upper arm demonstrated the secretary’s ability to learn. He learned, quickly, to hold the shield at arm’s length and keep the barrier between his slim Greek body and the Etruscan’s blade.
A few steps from the Greek, General Spurius Maximus also held a shield. But his was fastened properly to his arm and he matched strikes and stabs with a second barbarian. Unfortunately, the older Latian showed signs of weakening.
If either Belen or Maximus faltered, the Etruscans could concentrate on one, easily defeat the weaker of the two before attacking the last defender.
In a heartbeat, Alerio took in the scene, crossed stepped to adjust, and charged the man facing Belen.
There were many choices required from a man in combat. They included whether to duck or dodge, stab or chop, and move forward or backward. All the choices meant life or death and required an instant decision. Usually, the formation dictated the response. But there was no formation for guidance when the Etruscan caught sight of the charging Latian from the corner of his eye. For him, it came down to stabbing with his sword or blocking with his shield.
Alerio ran while swinging both blades in big dramatic circles. He wanted the Etruscan to fear the sharp edges and go on the defense.
Seeing the flashing steel, the barbarian turned sideways putting his shield towards the man sprinting across the room.
Alerio dropped his weapons. The gladii fell to the floor and the blades tumbled, clattering along behind the Centurion until their velocity dissipated and the blades rested on the tiles. From huge patterns of steel, to flesh and empty hands, the Etruscan was momentarily confused.
Another choice in combat was a man’s mental state. A mind focused or one disordered by circumstances?
The Etruscan gawked at the discarded swords and Alerio took advantage of the chaotic state of his mind. Dropping to his knees, Alerio slid under the edge of the shield and locked his arms around the barbarian’s hips.
It resembled a wrestling move, although the Etruscan held a shield and a sword. Alerio popped to his feet while maintaining his grip on the man’s waist. Twisting sideways, Alerio turned around. Then Centurion Sisera dug in his keels, lifted, and threw the barbarian over his shoulder.
The Etruscan flew the distance of a few steps before colliding with the other barbarian. Both men fell to the ground.
“Rah,” General Maximus shouted as he drove his gladius into the chest of one.
The other attempted to escape but Alerio stomped him to the floor.
“General?” Alerio inquired. “At your pleasure.”
“Centurion Sisera, I believe I’ve had enough excitement for one evening,” Maximus said, refusing the offer to finish the enemy.
The Senator dropped the gladius and shook his hand to get the blood flowing to his fingers. Gripping a hilt during combat caused cramps unless the fighter drilled regularly. Spurius Maximus was long out of practice.
“Very good, sir,” Alerio confirmed. He drew the Legion dagger and stabbed the Etruscan in the back of his neck.
“Spurius, you’ve been wounded,” Aquila shouted from the doorway. As she ran across the room, she invoked Maximus’ personal deity. “Great Goddess Bia lend him your strength so he may heal.”
Spurius Maximus glanced at his sword arm and noticed that when he shook it to get the feeling back to his fingers, he was also throwing off drops of blood. A probe with his right hand revealed a stab wound in his side.
“Aquila. Sisera,” Maximus declared as he lurched to the side. “I seem to have caught some steel.”
Aquila and Alerio arrived at the same time. Together, they helped the Senator to a divan.
“Sir, it looks deep,” A
lerio offered once he peeled back the tunic. “You need a physician.”
“No. No. All Doctors are gossips. What I need are strong Legion stitches and for everyone to keep this a secret,” Spurius Maximus instructed. “I have to appear strong when I walk into the Senate on New Year’s Eve and the Ides of March. My enemies cannot know that I have been weakened by their attack.”
Alerio folded a couple of cloth napkins and handed them to Belen. As a former patient with a large crescent shaped scar on the crown of his head, Centurion Sisera knew about head wounds. He positioned the cloth over Belen’s laceration and placed the secretary’s hand on the bandage to maintain pressure.
Disregarding his own dizziness and injures, Belen bent and studied the Senator’s wound.
“Sir, Anna Perenna Eve is only four days away. It is doubtful that you’ll make the Ides session,” the secretary pointed out. He referred to the Goddess of the New Year whose celebration occurred on the Ides of March. “Or be available for voting on the new Consuls.”
“You are speaking of Spurius Carvilius Maximus,” Aquila scolded Belen. “General, Senator, businessman, and landowner. When he says he will do something, he does it. And if he says he will be at the Senate sessions, then by Bai, he will be there.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Belen acknowledged.
“Although, I do wish a Doctor would examine the wound,” Aquila confessed. “But I know of none in the Capital who can be trusted.”
Civi and two household guards marched in from the rear courtyard. All three had undressed cuts. There had been no time to wrap or treat their injuries.
“Sir, the yard and villa are secure,” Civi reported. “The guards are patrolling in threes in case more barbarians are around.”
Senator Maximus lifted a hand in acknowledgement. But he failed to speak, and his eyes were unfocused.
“Do you have a fast coach in the stable?” Alerio asked while folding several cloth napkins into a tight square.
Once the layers of fabric were thick enough, Alerio pressed the bandage against Maximus’ side. The Senator groaned at the touch. Reaching out, Alerio grabbed Isos Monos’ wrist and pulled the Greek forward.
“Stand here and keep pressure on the wound,” Alerio instructed the artist. “That will stem the bleeding. Optio Affatus how is your hand at sewing?”
“The hide of my shield stays on, but my tunics might as well be sewn by a blind man,” Civi admitted.
“I have had plenty of people practice on me,” Alerio remarked. “But my hand isn’t that steady.”
“My carriage is fast,” Aquila volunteered. “Why did you ask, Centurion Sisera?”
“I know a Doctor who can be trusted,” Alerio replied. Relief at not having to treat the Senator flooded Civi. Then Alerio tested Aquila. “But ‘she’ is in Ostia.”
“She?” Maximus mumbled.
“Doctor Allocco sews up oarsmen and Legionaries for a living,” Alerio described. “And treats illnesses and other injuries.”
“Then she is certainly qualified to stitch up a stubborn Senator of the Republic,” Aquila remarked without delay. “Optio Affatus. Have the stableman harness my matched set and send two men with Centurion Sisera. They have to get to Ostia and back before daylight.”
“Yes, ma’am,” the NCO replied.
Alerio picked up his gladius from the floor and sheathed it. Then he headed for the hallway leading to the stables.
“Centurion,” the Lady Aquila called to him.
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied turning to face her.
“Spurius speaks highly of you in his letters,” Aquila told him. “But Centurion Sisera, you are more than I expected. May Pietas, Goddess of Duty, guide you.”
Alerio saluted, about faced, and rushed down the hallway.
***
Phobos pranced ahead of the two mounted guards and the wagon pulled by a matched set of mares. Leading suited the stallion and he would not relinquish the position. Alerio realized it could be an issue if other horses were ahead during a Legion march.
At the nine-mile marker, Alerio guided the procession off the road and into the yard of the Legion posthouse.
“We should push on,” a household guard suggested.
“Your horse and the team need to be fresh when we get to Ostia,” Alerio replied. “Because we want to keep a good pace going back to the Capital. You can’t do that if you overextend on the first leg of the march.”
“Yes, sir,” the former Legionary stated.
They stayed long enough for the animals to eat and drink water. Alerio and Phobos waited at the gate as the two guards and the wagon pulled out of the yard. The stallion stood still until the caravan was on the road, then the beast charged forward and did not stop until he assumed his rightful place at the head of the procession.
“We’ll need to work on the term,” Alerio teased, “of following a superior officer.”
Phobos ignored the talk and continued to lead the parade.
***
The streets were empty. Except for a few drunken oarsmen stumbling back to their ships after a night at the pubs. But the rowers were young and otherwise healthy and all managed to easily jump out of the way of the stallion. Thus, traveling rapidly, the convoy arrived at the clinic in the middle of the night.
“Physician Allocco,” Alerio shouted. He did not bother dismounting, he simply yelled. “Doctor Frances Allocco.”
“You there, be gone,” the clinic guard ordered. “You are bothering the neighborhood and the Doctor.”
“I appreciate your loyalty,” Alerio said to the guard. Then he bellowed. “Physician Allocco.”
A lantern flared to life on the edge of the roof.
“I have friends in the Legion,” Frances Allocco called down. “If you don’t go away, I’ll have them thrash you.”
“Excellent. You are awake,” Alerio replied. “You promised me stitches. I am here to collect.”
“Centurion Sisera?” the Doctor asked.
“I would say I hate to impose,” Alerio remarked. “But in this case, it would be a lie. Can I come in?”
“Very well,” she agreed. “But there better be blood.”
***
“I don’t see bleeding,” Frances Allocco scolded when she walked into the treatment room. “But you are covered in streaks and splashes of the stuff.”
“There is bleeding,” Alerio cautioned her, “but I need your vow of silence first.”
“You come to my hospital, raise Hades, wake me and my staff,” the Doctor accused him. “Lie to gain admittance and now I need to swear an oath. You need a Priestess, not a Doctor. Goodbye and good night, Centurion.”
“Wait, please,” Alerio begged. “He is an important man with enemies. They can’t know he has been injured.”
“Bring him here,” she instructed. “I’ll treat him, and no one will be the wiser.”
“Actually, there’s the man, a secretary and four, no five, former Legionaries who need treatment,” Alerio listed for her.
“Where have you come from,” Doctor Allocco questioned, “a war zone?”
“No ma’am, a villa in the Capital,” Alerio remarked. “However, it does resemble a battlefield at the moment.”
Frances Allocco paced the floor. Then she began taking bottles and pouches of herbs and instruments from shelves and stacking them on a table. Stopping, she locked eyes with Alerio.
“I do have a fear,” the Doctor commented. “Who will guarantee my safety?”
“Your safe passage is assured,” Alerio promised, “by the lady of the villa. She is a force and knows you are a female doctor.”
“A Doctor who happens to be a woman,” Frances corrected. “It makes a difference.”
“Not sure what you mean,” Alerio admitted. “But you are an excellent Doctor, no matter what you call yourself.”
“It’s not what I call myself,” Doctor Allocco began.
Then she looked at the Legion officer and realized he was a military man. Weapons, tra
ining, and war he understood. Honor, good will, and the suppression of evil were in his nature. But not social change or intellectual discussions.
“Alright, Centurion Sisera,” the physician relented. “I’ll go and treat your mysterious man. After all, I do owe you.”
“Thank you, Doctor Allocco,” Alerio stated.
***
The moon appeared on the horizon bringing a blessing and a curse. The light would help them travel faster. But it also signaled a new day, reminding the nocturnal travelers that the night was half over.
For Senator Maximus, the new day meant he only had four days to heal before the Ides of March. At the posthouse, the animals required more rest than on the trip down to Ostia.
“Thank you again, Doctor Allocco,” Alerio offered while he rubbed Phobos down with handfuls of straw.
“This important man of yours,” she suggested, “you seem to care a lot about him.”
“He’s been my mentor since I was a Legion Decanus,” Alerio replied. “He’s a good man. And he has given much of his life to the Republic.”
“Then let’s get him patched up,” the Doctor stated. “Secretly, of course.”
The moon, four days from reaching full, rose higher and the illumination lit the road’s surface. When they left the posthouse, the brighter road pleased the animals and the horses responded by setting a quicker pace.
Traveling through the dark before dawn, the escorts and Doctor Allocco all shifted, seeking more comfortable seating. Weariness made their eyes heavy but the jerking and bouncing kept them awake. Their attitudes improved when the defensive wall of the Capital came into view.
“Doctor Allocco,” Alerio advised the physician. “I am going to collect my personal gear. I’ll see you at the villa.”
“Do I have your permission to start without you?” the Doctor asked.
“Excuse me?” Alerio questioned.
“It was a joke, Centurion,” Allocco told him. “You seem to want to be in control of everything.”
“Not everything, Doctor,” Alerio commented. “Just the facets of the mission I am charged with completing.”
Alerio also alerted the guards to his plan.
Muted Implications (Clay Warrior Stories Book 12) Page 13
