“Tribune Alerio Carvilius Sisera,” General Scipio exclaimed when Alerio mounted the steering platform.
Alerio’s stomach dropped. He remembered his mother scolding him by calling him by his full name when she was angry. But this was worse. The man expressing his ire by using his full name was a Consul of the Republic. A man holding life and death control over him.
Alerio marched to the General, braced, and saluted. Then he waited for the reprimand.
“Who do you pray to?” Lucius Scipio inquired.
Fearing the Consul was about to order his execution, Alerio hesitated. He could lie and claim a forgiving God. But his heart would not allow it.
“My personal protector is the Goddess Nenia,” Alerio stated. “Sir, I am ready.”
“That is odd,” Scipio commented.
“General, Nenia Dea is present on every battlefield,” Alerio explained, “and in every Legion aid station after the fighting ends.”
“There is no doubt of that,” Scipio remarked. “But I asked because you seem to have a relationship with Tempestas. Do you?”
“No sir. I have only a passing familiarity with the Goddess of Storms,” Alerio told the General.
“Senior Tribune Titus, you witnessed it, did you not?” Lucius Scipio inquired.
“I did, sir,” Titus answered. “The ship was tossed into the air by a giant wave. You shouted a prayer over the howling wind, promising the Goddess Tempestas a temple if she would spare your fleet.”
“It was at that exact heartbeat, Tribune Sisera,” Scipio said picking up the explanation, “that you saved the Second Principale’s life. And when the wind grew to man killing gusts, you saved the lives of my Legionaries near the mast.”
“Sir, I was just reacting to the dangers I saw,” Alerio pleaded.
“Not exactly, Tribune Sisera,” General Scipio corrected. “Every time you challenged one of Tempestas’ elements, she intensified her fury.”
Scipio lowered his head to say a silent prayer while his arm rose to indicate the Senior Tribune.
“The ship revolved and, in any of the turns, a wave could have capsized us,” Titus avowed. “At that moment fear struck everyone. We began to strip off our armor in hopes of being able to swim. But you vanished below deck.”
Scipio lifted his chin and stepped forward. With his hand on Alerio’s shoulder, he declared, “We all felt the power of Tempestas’ fury. And we experienced the power of a Legion Tribune in command of oarsmen battling the Goddess and her elements. For that, the Republic salutes you and I will see that you receive a medal of valor.”
“Thank you, General,” Alerio responded happily. Not for himself, he required no medals to augment his honor. The joy was for his adopted father who relished awards and accolades.
“And for the Goddess of Storms,” Scipio continued, “I promise, once this campaign is over, to build a Temple dedicated to Tempestas in Rome.”
***
With the remnants of the storm drifting off to the horizon, the fleet beached at Plage de Balistra. Sadly, for the Legion, where the Empire mercenaries failed to inflict lethal damage, the Goddess Tempestas claimed three warships.
“And I offer these sacrifices for the men who gave their lives for the Republic,” General Scipio prayed as he walked to a thin herd of animals.
“These sacrifices are the best we could scrounge up,” Battle Commander Claudius told Alerio. “I hope they are enough to appease the Gods.”
“It should be more than enough, Colonel,” Alerio responded.
“How do you figure that, Tribune Sisera?” Gaius Claudius inquired.
“Three warships and twelve hundred strong men sacrificed,” Alerio described. “Neptune has rarely had such a tribute without a battle taking place.”
“Your point is well taken,” Gaius agreed. “When we leave in the morning, I want you on my ship.”
“I’m not really that lucky, Colonel,” Alerio advised. “Or that blessed of the Gods.”
“I know that,” Gaius Claudius told Alerio. “But I can’t have Death Caller or the storm fighter on any of the other ships. The Legionaries will be afraid. They might sacrifice you.”
“What about the men on your ship, sir?” Alerio inquired.
“They better be more afraid of me than the Gods,” Colonel Claudius exclaimed. “Or I am not worthy of being a Battle Commander.”
“I guess we’ll find out, sir,” Alerio teased.
“Find out?” Claudius asked. “Do you doubt me?”
“No, sir. What I meant was when the Legion finally faces Qart Hadasht infantry,” Alerio responded. “Then we will be tested and any question about my qualifications as a Tribune and yours as a Battle Commander will be answered.”
“For now, it is in the imagination,” Gaius remarked. “In the future, it will be up to the Gods. If they are willing to intervene.”
The Gods and Goddesses paid attention to the sacrifices and the Legion on the beach. They must have because in the morning, the Tribune and the Colonel received answers. Just not the ones they expected.
***
Because of Battle Commander Claudius’s blessing from Theia, his squadron launched first. Having someone with the gift of excellent vision from the Goddess of Sight leading the fleet made sense. And it was the reason, they avoided disaster.
“Alerio. Come with me,” Gaius Claudius ordered shortly after the warship settled into a southern heading.
The Colonel sprinted down the length of the ship. Not bothering to go around reclining Legionaries, he leaped over the prone forms.
“What is it, sir?” Alerio asked when he caught up with the Battle Commander on the bow platform.
Gaius took a piece of rolled-up leather from his eye and handed it to Alerio.
“What do you see, Tribune Sisera?” he asked.
Alerio recognized the Colonel’s instrument from Messina. Holding it up and peering through the small tunnel made distance objects clearer. At least for someone with Alerio’s vision. For those blessed by Theia, things at great distance appeared clearly in the tube.
“Wavy lines above the waves and swells. Oh, and maybe short sticks. Or am I imagining them?” Alerio reported. “What am I looking at, sir?”
“The Qart Hadasht fleet off the coast of Sardinia,” Gaius told him. “I believe, despite our need to prove ourselves, this is not the campaign for it.”
“How many ships-of-war Colonel?” Alerio asked.
“More than enough to mangle twenty-seven of the Republic’s finest,” Gaius Claudius declared.
He raised an arm and made circular motions. In response, the squadron turned around. They rowed back to warn the rest of the fleet.
***
After General Lucius Scipio and Colonel Gaius Claudius conferred, the Battle Commander jumped back to his warship.
“Ship’s Centurion,” Gaius ordered. “Make your heading towards Ostia.”
“Are we going home, sir?” Alerio inquired.
“With the Empire fleet there, Sardinia is closed to us,” Gaius stated. “I guess the Gods have spoken. We will not get our answers this campaign season.”
“Maybe the Gods did answer us, sir,” Alerio offered. “What if they are saving us for a ground campaign? A battle where our skills can be thoroughly tested.”
“Do you believe that, Tribune Sisera?” Gaius asked.
“More than I believe jumping off a boat to fight is a Legionary’s job,” Alerio replied. “I’ve trained Marines for shipboard duty. And I’ve trained infantrymen for the Legion. There is a difference, sir.”
Gaius Claudius peered up at the sky then down at the deck boards crowded with infantrymen.
“Yes, there is,” he confirmed. Then the Battle Commander laughed and added. “Not enough mud on a ship for a Legionary.”
Chapter 41 – The Temple Debate
Two weeks later, Alerio stood with Belen in the gallery. On the floor of the senate, Consul Scipio finished his speech then sat to wait for the results.
Senator Spurius Maximus used both arms to push out of his chair. Not because he needed them but for dramatic effect.
“I second the motion made by Consul Scipio,” he declared. His voice rang around the Senate chamber. “Based on our successes at sea and our growing navy, I believe a temple dedicated to the Goddess Tempestas is a worthy investment in our spiritual wellbeing.”
Senators spoke over one another as small debates broke out around the chamber. Up in the visitor’s gallery, Alerio leaned into Belen.
“Didn’t the Senator want to build a temple for his benefit?” he inquired.
“Your father thought a temple would be good for his soul,” the secretary replied. “But he decided this was better.”
“Because of the award I received from Consul Scipio?” Alerio inquired.
“That helped, a little,” Belen suggested. Then he encouraged. “Listen.”
The secretary pointed, drawing Alerio’s attention back to the senate floor.
“Further, I propose a grand temple constructed of stone,” Senator Maximus exclaimed. “The shrine will stand for hundreds of years. To create such a structure, we will build it with travertine. Can I get a second on the construction specification?”
“I second the motion,” one of Senator Maximus’ allies shouted.
“We will vote on a stone temple honoring the Goddess of Storms,” Consul Florus, Scipio’s Co-Consul, announced.
In the gallery, Alerio asked the secretary.
“Travertine? Did the Senator ever contact Ignazio Dispansus about increasing our partnership in the travertine quarry?”
“Of course. Senator Maximus has a keen eye for a good investment,” Belen told Alerio.
“And for projects,” Alerio observed, “that are good for his purse and his soul.”
The mixture of religion, business, and government made Alerio uneasy. He had never been happy with the political struggle between important men. Now, it seemed, he was part of the power plays, backstabbing, and deal making. He was not sure how he felt about the new position.
***
The hobnailed boots tapped as Alerio climbed to the shrine level. At the top, he marched into the temple. Singing overwhelmed the sounds of his boots before he stopped.
“How may the Goddess Nenia help you?” a Priest inquired.
The choir sang for the Goddess to come and release the soul of a long-suffering person ill with an unnamed sickness.
“She offers comfort for the injured, sick, or the old and infirmed,” the holy man continued. “Perhaps you have an acquaintance or a loved one who requires aid in leaving this life.”
The singing swelled, echoing off the ceiling of the temple.
“No, Priest,” Alerio declined. He handed a silver coin to the celebrant. “I just want a moment to speak with her.”
The song shifted to one where the Goddess was called on to release the soul of an older person. A voice hit a high note that made the hairs on the back of Alerio’s neck stand up.
“The Goddess is not really here, Tribune,” the Priest advised.
Tribune Sisera lowered his chin and fixed the holy man with his eyes.
“You would be surprised where Nenia Dea is,” Tribune Sisera inform him. “I require silence from you. So, close your mouth.”
The Priest scurried to the back of the temple. Around a column he confronted two temple guards.
“I have one that might be trouble,” he warned. “Maybe you should ask him to leave.”
Death had a strange effect on people. Some broke down at a loss, while others hid in work or mentally denied the finality of life. A few developed macabre curiosities and were drawn to anything related to death. The Temple of Nenia attracted the most delusional of the death voyeurs.
“We’ll clear him out,” one of the temple guards declared.
They strutted from behind the columns and stopped.
Standing in the middle of the temple stood a Legion Tribune. His eyes were closed, his face lifted to the ceiling, and his mouth moved as if he was having a conversation with someone hovering above him.
Without looking, the Tribune placed a hand on the hilt of his gladius while the other arm extended towards the temple guards. The hand opened and the fingers waved the guards away.
“He doesn’t seem to be causing any harm,” the guards explained when they returned to the Priest.
“Well,” blustered the holy man, “there are implications for allowing a man to just stand in the temple.”
“Sir, he is a veteran Legion Tribune,” one guard explained. “Unless you want to be cleaning our blood off the floor, let him stay.”
The Priest ducked out of sight and peered around a column. When he came back, he declared. “He’s gone. I wonder what he wanted?”
The End
A note from J. Clifton Slater
I trust this message finds you vigorous and in good health.
In letters from ancient Rome, we see references to well-being and stamina in almost every communique. There was little medicine to fend off illnesses and wishing someone to be free of disease and energetic seemed to be the standard greeting and closing. For that reason, letters in Muted Implications begin and end with references to physical health and robustness.
Senator Gaius Florus was wintering in Sicily when General Hamilcar began his off-season campaign, according to historian Cassius Dio. I am not convinced Florus left Messina to defend the Republic’s half of the island. If he had, there would be accounts of battles.
During the mid-Republic period, the Legion did not use Cohorts. At the time, they were committed to three-tiered maniple combat lines composed of 12 Centuries on each line. Greek historian Polybius (200 B.C. - 117 B.C.) “The order of battle used by the Roman army (Legion)…allows every man to fight both individually and collectively…The maniples that are nearest to the point where danger threatens can wheel (pivot) in order to meet the threat.”
It was not until 107 B.C. and the Marian reforms when the Legion adopted the Cohort formation. Those fighting blocks of infantrymen were staffed with 480 Legionaries in each.
The song ‘Goddess of Ides’ celebrates Anna Perenna, the Goddess of the Cycle of the New Year. March 15th (the Ides of March) was the ancient Roman New Year when debts had to be settled and two new Consuls were elected.
Muted Implications takes place around the Ides of March in 259 B.C. If you research the Goddess, you will see a reference to a fountain dedicated to Anna Perenna and celebrations at the 1st mile marker on the Via Flaminia. The road, Via, was not built until 220 B.C., and the Goddess’ fountain dates only to the 1st Century B.C. As a researcher and writer, I was disappointed that neither of the items fit with the time frame of this book. Of course, the most famous Ides of March was the assassination in 44 B.C. of Julius Caesar.
The Temple of Vesta, as displayed today at the ruins in Rome, shows granite and marble upgrades. A stone structure replaced the 436-year-old temple in 241 B.C. This meant the structure in 259 B.C., during the period of Muted Implications, still maintained the original building materials of interwoven reeds coated with clay, and a thatched roof. The Vesta Temple Alerio entered, where he spoke to a Vestal Virgin, resembled a barn of the era. Items like this are why I titled the series Clay Warrior Stories.
The adoption of sons was important in Ancient Rome. With a relatively low birth rate, rich noblemen often adopted daughters to marry off to create political and business relationships. But sons were adopted to inherit property. Sons prevented an estate from being confiscated by the Roman government should the citizen die without naming an heir. Although adoption of boys and girls was a business arrangement, during the Republic period, adoption required the approval of the Senate.
Herius Potilius was a real person who asked to be arrested to get away from his fellow Samnites. Once in custody, Herius informed the Romans (the Senate in one version) about an uprising of Samnite auxiliary and slaves from other tribes. I have taken liberties with motivations
, settings, and military ranks to work him into this novel.
Consul Lucius Scipio’s fleet did survive a severe storm. When he returned to Rome, he fulfilled his promise and built a temple to the Goddess Tempestas.
If you enjoyed the Clay Warrior Stories books, I ask that you go to Amazon and leave a review. Especially important are reviews for Clay Legionary, the first book in the series.
Comments or questions are always welcome, please contact me.
E-Mail: [email protected]
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Until we meet again, Tribune Alerio Carvilius Sisera offers sacrifices for your health and prosperity. And I wish you strength, courage, and enthusiasm.
Books by J. Clifton Slater
Available on Amazon in paperback, Kindle, and Kindle Unlimited
Clay Warrior Stories series
#1 Clay Legionary
#2 Spilled Blood
#3 Bloody Water
#4 Reluctant Siege
#5 Brutal Diplomacy
#6 Fortune Reigns
#7 Fatal Obligation
#8 Infinite Courage
#9 Deceptive Valor
#10 Neptune’s Fury
#11 Unjust Sacrifice
#12 Muted Limitations
Terror & Talons series
#1 Hawks of the Sorcerer Queen
#2 Magic & the Rage of Intent
Call Sign Warlock series
#1 Op File Revenge#2 Op File Treason
#3 Op File Sanction
Galactic Council Realm series
#1 On Station #2 On Duty
#3 On Guard#4 On Point
Muted Implications (Clay Warrior Stories Book 12) Page 26
