“I was in Bovesia two weeks ago and that shop was empty,” Helicaon said. “He must be new.”
Alerio thought as he chewed. If the shop was empty fourteen days ago, when and where did Pholus brew his beer? It takes four weeks or so for the mixture to ferment. He’d have to ask Pholus when he got back to Bovesia.
Before Alerio could say anything else, Helicaon’s goat came from around the animal pen chewing on a short branch.
“The water is receding,” exclaimed Helicaon.
The Spartan hadn’t moved. And from the cook site, neither man could see the river or the valley below the ledge.
“How do you know?” asked Alerio.
“She’s chewing a sprig of mint,” explained Helicaon while pointing to the goat. “It grows in the valley so the water level must be dropping.”
“Does that mean I can get to Passomasseria?” Alerio inquired.
“Why is it you are so set on getting to Passomasseria?” replied the Spartan.
“I’ve got a Tribune who wants to know if the citizens are loyal to the Republic,” explained Alerio. “Or, if they’ve seen any strangers in the area.”
“I was in Passomasseria last week. I needed a pouch of salt. The goat found my old one and chewed the leather and ate the salt,” Helicaon said as he reached out and patted the goat’s side. “So, I hiked up and spent the night. If there was any treason or disloyalty to the Republic, it would have come up in conversation. As for newcomers you, Lance Corporal Sisera, are the only one to have seen three squads of Syracusan Raiders in the vicinity. That sounds like strangers to me.”
Alerio stopped chewing and let the bread hang suspended between his fingers. Reporting the squads to Bovesia’s Centurion was far more important than checking on the citizens at Passomasseria. He had been focused on his mission and missed the ramifications of an enemy force behind the Legion Garrison. The Legionaries were capable of defeating the Raiders unless…
“Helicaon. I’ve got to get to Bovesia and notify the garrison,” Alerio exclaimed.
“We can’t go anywhere until the sun comes up and we get a look at the river,” Helicaon said. “Finish your bread and at sunrise, we’ll go and see.”
Chapter 44 – The Raging River
Alerio could tell why the Spartan wanted to wait for daylight. The path down to the valley was more fit for a goat than two humans. Even Helicaon, who was familiar with the trail, turned and walked backwards down a few of the steep and twisting sections.
At the bottom of the granite wall, they stood on top of a hill. Deeper in, the valley rose gently on either side of a rushing stream. Unlike the hill where they stood, the ground was green with grass and dotted with olive and lemon trees.
“On the other side of the trees is my garden,” explained Helicaon. “The flood waters never get much higher than this mound.”
Without another word, he led Alerio down to a path between their hill and another. As they walked, the roar of the river reached them. Alerio noted the fresh gravel, sand and dirt under their feet.
“Yesterday, this was under water,” explained Helicaon. “You wouldn’t want to have been here.”
“Or, out there,” Alerio said as the river came into view. A shiver ran through his body as he recalled his struggles in the flood waters.
The water was flowing along the high banks, leaving a sliver of land between the river and the curve of the cliff where it left the valley. Helicaon marched along the damp ground until they came to a crop of trees nestled in a crevasse.
Suspended behind the tree trunks, and up under the branches, was a small boat. Its leather sides crinkled from being in the river and drying afterward. Alerio could see the leather hull was coated with oil to preserve the exterior of leather.
“What kind of oil?” asked Alerio as he and the Spartan approached the boat.
“Fish oil,” Helicaon replied as he reached overhead and slapped the taunt leather. “It’s plentiful and a side benefit from catching my own food. Press out the oil and eat the rest, just like you do with olives.”
Alerio studied the pulleys and lines above the boat. He could see how one man could pull the boat out of the river, up the bank, and around the trees before pulling it out of sight and above the flood waters.
“Can it carry two and my pack?” asked Alerio.
“She can but not until the waters calm,” Helicaon informed him. “It’ll be tomorrow before we can paddle to Bovesia.”
“What do we do in the meanwhile?” Alerio asked.
“Help me harvest from the garden,” Helicaon replied. “After a heavy rain...”
Alerio interrupted, “A lot of the crops will be beat down. If we don’t pick the vegetables, they’ll rot in the mud. My family owns a farm. My father taught me farming.”
“Excellent. Maybe you can show me a few farming techniques,” suggested Helicaon. “Because my family also owned a farm. But, my father didn’t teach me farming. He instructed me in the use of a shield and a sword.”
Acct 7
Chapter 45 – Bovesia Garrison
Corporal Cephas stretched his arms over his head in the predawn. It was quite and he relished the stillness. The rain, from day before yesterday, had passed and the sky was cleared. For a moment, he enjoyed the stars in the night sky. Over the last two weeks, he’d been busy standing in as Officer of the Guard, writing reports, replying to one of the many requests from Southern Legion, setting the Legionaries daily assignments, and making sure the Centurion was satisfied with his work.
A blush of pink appeared over the eastern mountain.
“Second Century. Lance Corporals, get them on the road,” he called out. The peace of the morning was broken. “You’re wasting my day. And you know what I hate?”
From the seven tents, voices called back, “Waste.”
Cephas smiled at the reply.
The ground had mostly dried, so he kept the physical training simple. The Corporal ran with the off-duty and healthy Legionaries. After enough laps to equal ten miles, he called the squads to a halt.
“The rain held up the transports so today is going to be busy,” he said. “I want those on patrol to look lively. If you’re on a post, stand straight. If you have no assignment, we have garrison repairs. I want every citizen who sees a Legionary to know that if the pirates return, they are going to get chewed up and spit back into the ocean. Lance Corporals, on me. Century, dismissed.”
The Legionaries broke ranks and headed in different directions. Six Lance Corporals converged on their NCO. The seventh and last squad leader was walking the guard posts as Sergeant of the Guard.
“I’m not jesting. The citizens need to know their Legion will protect them,” Cephas said to his squad leaders. “We were attacked and they are wondering if Bovesia is safe. They are wondering if we are capable of repelling another attack. Well, when they see a Legionary, I want them to be awed by the man’s military bearing and his confidence. If I am not awed by every one of your Legionaries, I will replace their squad leader and the punishment will put the slacker in medical. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Corporal,” the six Lance Corporals replied.
Second Century’s Centurion strolled out from the command building. As he approached the group, all of the NCOs turned to face their officer.
“Good morning, Centurion Laurens,” Cephas said as he saluted. “Any orders?”
“Illyrian pirates have been ravishing the coast for years,” Laurens said. “The only thing stopping them from taking over a seaport, like the Sons of Mars did to Massina, is the Legion. This is the first time in recent memory they were bold enough to attack a major garrison. If they did it once, they may do it again. Keep your men on their toes. Dismissed.”
As the squad leaders walked away, Laurens held up a hand to stop Cephas.
“Corporal. I didn’t want to worry the men but you should know,” the Centurion said. “Reports from Rhegium state that Qart Hadasht may be behind the Illyrians’ aggressive posture. They
didn’t say what the Empire is after but I can guess. They want Bovesia. From here, they’ll control the south entrance to the Messina Straits, all shipping for fifty miles up the coast, and transports from the west. It’s a valuable piece of real-estate for the Empire. And, Corporal...”
“Sir?” asked Cephas.
“They can’t have it,” Laurens said.
“No, Sir. We’ll be ready for them,” Cephas assured his officer.
“I’m counting on you,” the Centurion said. “I’d like to have our Sergeant and three more squads of Legionaries, but I don’t. Luckily for the Republic, and me, I have you. Dismissed.”
Cephas saluted, spun on his heels and marched away. The last two weeks had been a grind. Not only was he balancing the Century’s books, and the Republic’s fees, he was the Century’s acting Sergeant. He’d been feeling the pressure until the words from the Centurion. Now, he had a spring in his step, and he mumbled, “Bring on the Illyrian pirates.”
Then he remembered the fighting last week and how his command had nearly been overrun. He deflated a little and prayed to Clementia for mercy from his utterance.
Unfortunately for the overworked Corporal, Mendacius heard his prayer. The God of trickery responded by twisting the plea to Clementia for mercy.
From the watch tower, the trumpet blared and everyone in Bovesia froze in place and listened.
Chapter 46 – Any Less Would Be Insulting
From high overhead, the Legionary on the trumpet let out two long blasts. A merchant ship was inbound. The town relaxed. Then, the horn sounded three long notes. No one panicked. One foreign warship posed no threat for the Legion garrison. When the trumpet followed the foreign warship warning with two more three-note announcements, merchants closed up shops, citizens gathered valuables, and everyone crowded the steps. Soon the plaza on Bovesia’s third level looked like a street festival; without the festive attitude.
The inbound merchant ship, under full sail, didn’t slow. She rammed the beach and the squad of Legionaries on the lower level heard the keel snap. Her passengers were tossed forward and one sailor flew over the bow and crashed on the gravel of the shoreline. Ramps dropped and four large men carrying a huge chest rushed to the beach. Quickly following them, a swarthy man in an ornate robe scurried off the ship. Next off came a man in billowing pants. He had to look around a stack of scrolls, cradled in his arms, to watch his footing on the ramp.
“I will see your officer,” the man in the robe demanded in a broken accent.
The squad leader selected a Legionary to guide the foreign party. As they started up the steps, the merchant ship’s crew strolled down the ramps. After walking around their broken boat, they too took the steps to the upper level.
***
“What have we got, Corporal?” Centurion Laurens asked as he rushed to the top of the stairs.
“They look Egyptian, at least their clothing is, Sir,” Cephas replied. “And three warships. You can just see the tops of their sails on the horizon.”
“They seem to be converging from three directions,” Laurens observed. “There’s only one reason for that and it’s not good.”
“No, Sir. It’s not good,” replied Cephas. “They were herding the merchant ship to Bovesia.”
In short order, the warships rowed close enough to be identified as Illyrian biremes. The garrison of eighty-six Legionaries, of which seventy were heavy infantry, one a Corporal, and another a Centurion watched as the ships drew near the beach. On those ships were roughly three hundred and sixty rowers, plus an unknown number of archers and warriors from the land of Illyria.
“I’d guess four hundred,” offered Centurion Laurens.
“Give or take a few squads,” Cephas said then added. “Any less and it would be insulting.”
The Centurion glanced over at his Corporal before shifting his gaze back to the three warships.
“Sir, I have to check our placements at the choke points,” Cephas said.
“Of course. I’ll wait here and speak with our guests,” Laurens said while pointing down at the entourage climbing the steps. “And Corporal, any less would be insulting.”
“Yes, sir,” Cephas said. He saluted before marching away.
Chapter 47 – Defensive Lines
Corporal Cephas placed one squad of his heavy infantry on the steps at the second level. With two lines of shields, they would hold the choke point. On the building roofs on either side, he placed two squads. If the pirates attempted to climb onto the roofs again, they would meet more than a handful of defenders. After placing another squad in reserve, he sent the seventh back to patrol the garrison grounds. With the garrison set on a high hill and a single goat trail on the north end being the only access, a squad of heavy infantry might be an unnecessary level of security. But, he would rotate them with one from the plaza line later.
Luckily, he had a senior and a junior Medic. They selected a covered porch at the rear of the plaza and commandeered it as a medical area. After selecting two stretcher bearers from the boatmen and supply Legionaries, he sent the rest to man posts around the garrison. They would maintain the guard if the roving squad was required for the defensive line.
Centurion Laurens greeted the visitors from the wrecked merchant ship. After a few words, he escorted them to the Columnae Herculis.
‘Let the officer play diplomat,’ thought Corporal Cephas as he looked around, pleased at his defenses.
***
Fortunately, the pirates just camped on the beach. The three ships’ captains erected tents in front of their warships. Their crews crowded around campfires near their ships. The only exception were the Illyrian infantrymen. Each ship carried a squad and these thirty men set up their own camp on the beach at the bottom of the steps.
For half the day, Cephas strolled from squad to squad as if he didn’t have a care in the world. After checking to be sure the men ate and drank, he would say a few encouraging words before moving to the next squad. Specifically, he repeated an opinion about the pirates: Most were rowers and not professional soldiers. They couldn’t possibly defeat the heavy infantry of the Legion. After the motivational talk, he moved to the next squad. He was standing on the stairs talking with the men posted at the choke point when a trumpet blast sent a shiver down everyone’s spine.
The tower signaled the arrival of another warship. Soon after the trumpet fell silent, the sails of a fourth pirate bireme appeared on the horizon.
Cephas climbed to the plaza level and marched onto the rooftop of a level two building. All of the Corporal’s inspirational words crumbled as the warship eased onto the beach and another squad of Illyrian soldiers marched down the ramp. To add weight to the threat, one hundred and twenty rowers followed them.
***
Although he couldn’t hear the words, the pirate’s actions were recognizable. A big man stood on the beach while a team put up a pavilion larger than the tents of the three ships’ captains.
Cephas knew he was important, not only from the size of his tent, but from the actions of the three Illyrian captains. They marched from their areas directly to the important man.
When the four were standing together, the leader began pointing and shaking his finger at the Legionaries manning the third level. The other three shook their heads in response and shrugged as if to say no, or not me. Or, Cephas guessed, not my men.
Cephas glanced around for his Centurion. Other than the few times the officer came out to check on the Century’s positioning, he was in a conference with the visitors from the merchant ship. Now with over five hundred combatants clustered on the beach, the Corporal needed the weight of an officer to help calm the Legionaries. Plus, he wanted a second opinion on the argument he’d just witnessed.
Chapter 48 – Under Water and Under Cover
Helicaon sat in the back of the leather boat and guided it through the waves. The river was still torrid, and Alerio felt every jerk, rise, and fall as the Spartan guided the small boat down the fast-fl
owing river.
“How far to Bovesia?” Alerio asked as he turned his head to look at the Spartan.
“Not long in this soup,” replied Helicaon. “It’ll calm down when the river widens.”
***
They bounced and swayed until the cliffs below the garrison came into view. Then, as if they navigated a different river, the current slowed. Where mudflats had been before the flood, now the far edge of the water stretched almost to the fishing village. Farther in the distance, where the Kaikinos joined the Ionian, the normally gentle flow was a churning and rolling mass of fresh water tumbling into the salty sea.
Helicaon guided the boat to the pier and Alerio stepped from the boat directly onto the wood of the dock.
“Hold the boat,” ordered Helicaon as he reached out a hand to hold the craft steady.
Once Alerio had a firm grip, the old Spartan joined him on the platform. Together, they lifted the leather boat and placed it on the pier.
“Where are the patrol boats?” Alerio wondered out loud.
“Probably on Bova Beach,” offered Helicaon. “They’re too big to easily hoist out of the flood water.”
Alerio slung his pack over his shoulder and along with Helicaon, they started up the ramps.
“Gladius instructor,” a Legionary at the top greeted him. “If I were you, I’d get back in the boat and paddle away.”
“Why? Is it your night to cook?” Alerio teased back.
“No, Lance Corporal. It’s the ten thousand Illyrians on the beach,” the Legionary dropped his voice to stress his point. “They’re everywhere.”
Alerio glanced over the Legionary’s shoulder and scanned the Legion Garrison. A roving patrol walked casually along the perimeter and men stood post at guard positions. That looked normal, but, a second glance revealed no other personnel in the camp.
After pulling his duel rig from the pack, Alerio tossed the bag to the ground.
Bloody Water (Clay Warrior Stories Book 3) Page 16
