Bloody Water (Clay Warrior Stories Book 3)

by J. Clifton Slater

  “Keep an eye on that for me,” he said as his arms slid into the rig.

  Once the two gladii hilts settled on his upper back, Alerio sprinted for Bovesia. In his mind, he envisioned a battle with pirates flowing over the rooftops and up the stairs with a thin rank of Legionaries on the plaza fighting to hold back the hoard. He hit the path and made short work of the incline. He didn’t break stride until he reached the back of the buildings. No sounds of gladii clashing or the screams of dying men carried from the plaza. At the mouth of the alley, he stopped.

  A few Legionaries stood sentry on the rooftops and on the stairs, while their squad mates lay napping, or squatting around cook fires. On either side of the alleyway, citizens and merchants sat in groups talking excitedly. There was no carnage.

  Alerio walked to the center of the plaza. Centurion Laurens wasn’t among the Legionaries and Corporal Cephas stood staring down toward Bova Beach. Turning to the shops, Alerio peered at the groups of civilians looking for Centurion Laurens.

  Hyllus stood on the porch of the Columnae Herculis. When he spotted Alerio, the big Athenian waved in greeting. Each table on the diner’s porch was full of people leisurely drinking vino. The Centurion wasn’t among them. Alerio did recognize one familiar face.

  Pholus, the vendor of excellent beer, sat at the last table with a seat facing the plaza. He lifted his clay mug in salute. Alerio nodded at the vendor, spun, and walked to the other side of the plaza. There, he continued his search for the Officer.

  When Alerio reached the end of the plaza and his patience, he decided to speak with the Corporal and let him pass along the report to the officer. As he turned, he noticed Pholus strolling toward the Legionary sentries.

  It was the first time he’s seen the Pholus walk any distance. The beer vendor didn’t stroll, he marched, and the strap marks on his lower legs, the type made by wearing military boots, were more pronounced in the afternoon light.

  Pholus peered between two legion shields. After violently shaking his head at what he saw on Bova Beach, the vendor turned slowly, and tilted his face upward. At first, Alerio thought the man was checking the weather. But, Pholus didn’t search the sky for thunderheads. He seemed more focused on the watch tower.

  “Corporal Cephas. A word,” called out Centurion Laurens as he emerged from the Columnae Herculis and started across the plaza.

  The Corporal turned and took two steps toward his officer. Suddenly, Pholus raced toward Laurens. Cephas shouted a warning but Laurens was slow to react. Before the Centurion knew of the danger, Pholus stood at his side.

  Twice, the long blade of the sica pierced the Centurion’s side. On the third thrust, Pholus left the hilt protruding from the bleeding wound. Vital organs deep inside Laurens shutdown from the trauma. The Centurion died before Pholus reached the sentries on the roof.

  He made it to the edge of the roof and paused to look down on the plaza of level two.

  “Sergeant Pholus,” cried out Alerio.

  The vendor slowly lifted his head and turned toward Alerio. A smile came to his face. He slammed a fist into his chest in a salute before leaping out of sight. The next view of Sergeant Pholus of the Syracusan Raiders was of him skipping down the stairs to the level one plaza.

  ‘Beer vendor and a Syracuse Raider Sergeant renowned for his beer. I should have put them together,’ thought Alerio as he ran to join Cephas.

  Centurion Laurens was rolled onto a stretcher and the bearers carried him to the medical area. The senior Medic frowned at Cephas as he scooped the Centurion’s helmet from the pavers.

  “Like it or not Corporal, you are now the acting Centurion,” the Medic stated as he brushed dirt off the horsehair comb that ran across the top of the helmet. He offered the helmet to Cephas and added, “May Mars help us. But, most of all, may he help you.”

  With those words reverberating in Cephas’ ears, the Medic went to check on the Legionaries. Cephas stood gripping the officer’s helmet between his hands. Alerio waited until the Medic was out of hearing range before whispering.

  “Commander. Are there really ten thousand pirates on the beach?” Alerio asked.

  “Not near that many. Only about five hundred and twenty-five,” Cephas assured him. Then he stopped and asked in puzzlement, “Commander?”

  “Garrison Commander. We can’t have a Corporal running a battle,” explained Alerio. “Congratulates on your promotion.”

  “No matter how short lived,” Cephas mumbled. Then, he perked up and looked around to see who could have heard his comment. Seeing no one except Lance Corporal Sisera, he asked, “How was your trip to Passomasseria? Did you learn anything.”

  “Pholus is a Sergeant in the Syracuse army. He has three squads stashed in the hills north of here,” stated Alerio. “You’ve got an enemy force to your rear. And speaking of Pholus, he noticed something on the beach that got him upset. Then he eyeballed the tower before stabbing Centurion Laurens. Any idea of what caused his reaction?”

  “Maybe it was the inaction of the pirates,” Cephas said as he started to walk away with the Centurion’s helmet tucked under his arm.

  “Commander. If you please,” Alerio said while pointing at Cephas’ Legion helmet. “The men need to know who is in charge. If they sense weakness in their command, you’ll likely to have a mutiny on your hands. Besides, you’ll need to fill in your chain of command and the helmet will identify you to the men and the civilians.”

  Cephas reached up and hooked a thumb under the brim of his Legion helmet. After peeling it off, he replaced it with the Centurion helmet.

  “Squad leaders. On me,” he called out before turning to Alerio. “Where do you fit into my chain of command, Lance Corporal Sisera?”

  “I don’t really know your men, or the squad leaders, so make me a Tribune,” suggested Alerio.

  “Are you that useless?” inquired Cephas.

  By then, six confused Lance Corporals had arrived.

  “Commander Cephas. Permission to inspect the garrison perimeter, Sir?” asked Alerio.

  “Granted,” Cephas said realizing Alerio had announced his title and new responsibilities to the squad leaders.

  “Thank you, Sir,” Alerio said while rendering a cross chest salute.

  Cephas returned the salute and before he could open his mouth, First Squad’s Lance Corporal asked a question.

  “Commander Cephas. What’s the plan, Sir?” the squad leader inquired.

  All the Legionaries present witnessed the salute, and those nearby heard the squad leader’s use of the title. As if Averruncus’ hand had passed over the plaza, the tension of witnessing the death of their officer faded. Although Illyrian pirates still threatened to attack; the God who prevents calamity along with the installation of Cephas as the Garrison Commander, had averted the disaster of being leaderless.

  Chapter 49 – False Assault

  Alerio jogged to the roving squad in the garrison and called to their squad leader.

  “We have an enemy force of thirty Syracuse soldiers to our north,” he said pointing to the far-off hilltops.

  “We always keep watch on the goat trail and the paths leading to the base of the hill,” the Lance Corporal assured him. “We haven’t seen any sign of movement in the trees or around the farms.”

  Alerio glanced back at Bovesia. From here, no sound, other than the trumpet high up in the tower could reach the far end of the garrison. Certainly, no signal from the beach could be seen either. A messenger could go from the beach to the hills in the north, but it would require circling a swamp, and climbing hills far to the west before trekking back to a point north of the garrison.

  “If they join the Illyrians on the beach, it was just more warriors against our main body,” Alerio said. “But, if they come in our backdoor, they will be a problem. Alert the other sentries.”

  “We always share intelligence, gladius instructor,” the squad leader assured him.

  Alerio agreed with sharing information. He informed them of t
he Centurion’s death and the elevation of Cephas to Garrison Commander.

  “Are there really ten thousand pirates on the beach?” a Private asked.

  “Commander Cephas says it’s more like five hundred and twenty-five,” Alerio replied.

  “Is that a lot?” a very young Legionary inquired.

  “Anything less and it would be insulting,” his squad leader answered. “Fall in. We’ve got rounds, and we’re wasting daylight.”

  As Alerio jogged back to Bovesia, he reflected on the fear that Corporal Cephas wouldn’t be accepted by the Century as the officer in charge. It was groundless. The Century already respected the Corporal’s leadership style.

  Alerio reached the plaza to find Commander Cephas deep in conversation with Hyllus and Helicaon.

  “You’ve no footing for your Legionaries on those steps,” Helicaon explained.

  “I know Hyllus speaks highly of you, old man,” Cephas said. “But I don’t have the manpower to start a construction project.”

  “Hyllus and I will start it,” Helicaon said. “We’ll need a few men for the installation.”

  “Fine. Get it to where I can see the value and I’ll give you the men,” Cephas said as if beat down from arguing with the two Greeks.

  “What’s with them, Commander?” Alerio asked as he fell in beside Cephas.

  “I never realized that being an officer meant that everybody and their brother came to you with big ideas,” admitted Cephas. “And, like a magistrate, you have to waste time weighing and judging the merits of each.”

  They had arrived at the edge of the roof. From the vantage point, they looked down on the two lower plazas and Bova Beach. Standing at the pavilion were the three Illyrian captains, the big man, and the Illyrian Sergeant. Pholus stood shoulder to shoulder with the large men, as if, they stood against the other three.

  “That’s why I think Pholus acted,” Cephas said. “The pirates have been here all day without advancing. I think they are…”

  Cephas stopped talking when he noticed Alerio shaking and staring daggers at the group on the beach.

  “Lance Corporal Sisera. You seem as if you’re staring into the mouth of Hades,” offered Cephas.

  “Oh, excuse me Commander. In a way I am,” Alerio said. “The big man next to Sergeant Pholus is Martinus Cetea, Navarch of the Illyrian Navy.”

  “That explains who ordered four warships to attack here,” Cephas said. “But it doesn’t explain why. It’s something beyond the value of treasure from the merchant ship.”

  “Merchant ship?” asked Alerio.

  “While you were upriver, an Egyptian merchant was herded here,” Cephas explained. “It’s odd. They could have boarded her at sea and taken the treasure. It’s almost as if they wanted the merchant’s cargo here. But, I can’t figure out why.”

  “Someone planned this operation,” Alerio said. “The Syracusan Raiders were inserted weeks ago. This is the second time Martinus Cetea has attacked the Republic. He sailed into Occhio village and captured a treasure and an Egyptian in a gaudy robe from another merchant ship. There can’t be enough gold and jewels in one chest to make those ventures profitable.”

  They were interrupted by several blasts from a trumpet on the beach. In response to the signal, the Illyrian soldiers picked up their shields and shuffled into ranks at the bottom of the stairs.

  “Standby,” Cephas shouted.

  “Standing by, Commander,” came the response for the Legionaries.

  As the Illyrian soldiers moved into position, Cephas pointed at the beach.

  “They don’t seem pleased,” he said as the three captains on the beach walked away from Navarch Martinus Cetea and Sergeant Pholus.

  Their shoulders were slumped, their gaits almost a stomp, and their chins tucked into their chests; obvious postures of unhappy men.

  “Attacking a prepared Legion Century isn’t their usual fare,” ventured Alerio. “Don’t pirates favor soft targets like undefended merchant ships?”

  “True. So, who wants this fight?” asked Cephas as he stepped behind the double line of shields. “Lance Corporal Sisera. Grab a shield and a javelin from the medical area. We’ve stacked extra gear there. Back up Third Squad on the stairs. I’ve pulled their squad leader and made him my Sergeant. Procopius, his Right-Pivot, is a good man, but it’s his first time in command.”

  “Yes, sir,” Alerio said.

  He was frustrated at not taking time to go to his quarters to collect his armor. But, Illyrian soldiers were marching up the steps. The few arrows sent down by the Legionaries impacted uselessly against their shields.

  ***

  After grabbing a helmet, a shield and three javelins, Alerio jogged down the staircase and joined Third Squad on the steps. On either side, the buildings created close-in walls that bracketed the Legionaries.

  “What are you doing here, gladius instructor?” Procopius, the temporary squad leader, asked. “Don’t think we know how to hold a shield wall?”

  “I’m sick of teaching,” confessed Alerio as he leaned he back against the side of a building. “I asked Commander Cephas where he put his sheep, and where he put his wolves?”

  “And what did he say?” another Legionary asked.

  “He said you can stand on a roof and repel pirates,” Alerio replied. “Or, you can join my best on the stairs. Then he warned me...”

  Heartbeats ticked by. When it appeared the Lance Corporal wouldn’t finish his thoughts, someone asked, “Warned you of what?”

  “That if you fight your way into Hades with my wolves?” Alerio replied. “You better have the cōleī and the skills not to slow them down.”

  The nine men around Alerio straightened their back.

  “Third Squad, Second Century, stand by,” Procopius shouted.

  “Standing by, squad leader,” Alerio and the squad responded to the acting squad leader.

  “Wolves?” another Legionary asked.

  “That’s what Commander Cephas said,” Alerio replied.

  “Third Squad, brace,” Procopius shouted.

  To Third Squad on the stairs, in the space between the buildings, where the walls created a canyon, the plaza to their front disappeared. The iron shields, helmets, and spears of Illyrian soldiers replaced the view of clay pavers and shops.

  The attackers slammed into the Legionary shields and were stopped as if they ran into a granite wall. Spear and javelin shafts poked back and forth between the shields. Men screamed, urinated themselves, released watery merda and dropped, either died or injured.

  A spear jutted under a shield and a Legionary’s ankle shattered. As he collapsed from pain and loss of support, he was pulled off the front line. Another Legionary stepped forward to seal the breach.

  Alerio help throw the injured man to the stairs behind the second rank. While stretcher bearers climbed down to pull him out of the canyon, the battle continued.

  Frustrated by the necessity to hold the stairs and not advance, Alerio retrieved a second javelin. He began to growl as he thrust both weapons at the shields facing the first rank. Suddenly, the remaining eight Legionaries defending the stairs picked up the animal sound. No longer screaming or cursing, Third Squad reached into their guts and uttered ferocious growls. Along with the sound, they gelled into a many limbed killing machine.

  From unaligned strikes, they began to deliver blows in unison. Almost as if controlled by a single mind, the Legionaries on the stairs hammered the Illyrians. Unable to withstand the unified javelin tips, the soldiers of Illyria made a fatal mistake. They stepped back half-a-step.

  “Front rank, draw,” shouted the inexperienced squad leader.

  Five javelins fell to the ground and five gladii snapped from the Legionaries’ sheathes.

  “Advance and step back,” he shouted.

  The front rank of Third Squad shoved with their shields, and for the first time since the assault started, they took the fight to the enemy. Five gladii found room between Illyrian shields and five
soldiers dropped to the pavers. While they fell, the five Legionaries stepped back between the building walls. As they sheathed their gladii, javelins were handed to them and Third Squad reset preparing for another assault. But, the attack never came.

  The Illyrians grabbed their dead and wounded as they retreated down the steps on the far end of the plaza. When the last shield vanished below the first riser, Alerio looked around to see smiles under the helmets.

  “Wolves in Hades,” he announced.

  Third Squad responded with growls.

  “Lance Corporal Sisera. If you are finished entertaining Third Squad,” Cephas said from plaza level at the top of the stairs. “I’d like a word.”

  Alerio winked at the blood splattered Legionaries and slapped Procopius’ shoulder.

  “I’ve got to go. Third Squad, it’s been a pleasure,” Alerio said as he started up the steps. Then he paused, and turned to face the temporary squad leader. “Procopius, for a jumped up Right-Pivot, that was a gutsy move calling for an advance. You should know, you can be my squad leader any day.”

  Procopius nodded in recognition of the compliment. The other six Legionaries of Third Squad also voiced their confidence in their temporary squad leader. Procopius answered them with a growl.

  ***

  At the top of the stairs, Alerio joined Cephas as they both gazed up at the burning watch tower. Flames leaped from the wooden platform while smoke rose high into the air.

  “Would you call that a signal to the Raiders?” asked Alerio.

  “The whole attack was a farce,” Cephas explained. “Their soldiers focused on the stairs. It was an attempt but not the purpose of the attack. Behind the soldiers and a few pirates, their archers loaded up arrows with flaming pitch and targeted the tower. So, yes, it’s a sign to the Raiders.”

  “You said only a few pirates, Sir?” asked Alerio.

  Someone handed him a ladle of water. After rinsing out his mouth, Alerio took a drink before pouring the rest over his head. As the water dripped off him, it ran red. Alerio spit into the bloody water before looking at Cephas.

  “They have over five hundred pirates on that beach,” Cephas said. “Yet, only about a hundred accompanied the soldiers.”