Bloody Water (Clay Warrior Stories Book 3)

by J. Clifton Slater

  “Defending the stairs and roofs until we return,” said Alerio. “If we surprise the Syracuse Raiders, we can reduce their numbers before their assault.”

  Cephas squeezed his eyes together tightly. He opened them and locked eyes with Alerio.

  “This is one of those suggestion where if I’m wrong people die,” he said softly. “But we are outnumbered. If we don’t take bold action, more of my Legionaries will die. Pick your squads and Lance Corporal Sisera.”

  “Yes, Commander,” Alerio said.

  “Bring them all back to me,” Cephas stated.

  Alerio turned around and shouted, “Third and First, form up on Fourth Squad.”

  As he walked toward the alleyway, Legionaries rushed by and converged on the plaza. Alerio pulled his helmet off and tucked it under his arm.

  “Fourth Squad, half of you, grab as many javelins as you can find,” Alerio instructed. “You are my doorway. The rest of the squad, bows and arrows. You are my sweepers. Third and First, we’re going to pay the Syracuse soldiers a quick and painful visit. Standby.”

  Thirty boots stomped and the Legionaries replied, “Yes, weapons instructor.”

  Moments later, the boxes and cart were pulled back and Alerio, followed by thirty Legionaries, jogged from Bovesia.

  As they descended the path, four men with shields and javelins and four men with bows spread out to either side of the Legion column. Before Alerio reached the bottom of the hill, the Raiders at the listening posts were screaming and dying. The sweepers had cleared the line of retreat.

  Rather than angling to the right and the garrison’s gate, Alerio made a sharp left turn and ran along the thorn bush wall. When he was opposite the first Legion tent, he motioned for two Legionaries to pass him.

  “Now,” he shouted.

  The two Legionaries pivoted right and threw their javelins high into the air. Before the tips hit the ground, they pushed their shields to the front and dove on the throne wall. The shields and the weight of the men crushed the bushes. Leaving the shields, the men rolled off them, grabbed their javelins, and spread to either side of the opening. Alerio stomped across the shield bridge and raced toward the tent. Behind him came twenty silent heavy infantrymen.

  ***

  In the tent, the ten-man Raider squad relaxed while awaiting the order to attack. They weren’t ready when twenty-one gladii split the goatskin wall of the tent and Legionaries poured through the rips.

  Alerio stomped one Raider before engaging another. Behind him, he heard the soldier grunt as a Legionary ran his gladius through the man’s chest. His target parried the left gladius but was out of position to deal with the swing of the right. He died with his neck almost severed.

  “The tent is clear,” a squad leader announced. “Orders, Sisera?”

  The assault had gone so well, Alerio pondered the question for a moment. The supply building was close and if he could kill those Raiders?

  He shook off the urge to press his advantage and turned to the squad leader.

  “Withdraw,” he ordered. “Everyone back to Bovesia.”

  They pushed through the slits and ran for the bridge over the thorn bushes. As they retreated, Raiders flowed from the supply building. Arrows arched through the air and began falling around the Legionaries.

  “Put a roof on it,” a squad leader shouted and half the men raised their shields overhead.

  Six men stopped to let the two-man bridge team retrieved their shields. The throne bushes bounced back to at least half their pre-crushed height.

  “Give me a roof and a wall,” the other squad leader ordered and four shields where held behind as four were held overhead.

  All of the Raiders’ arrows impacted solid shields as the Legionaries backed toward the hill and the path to Bovesia.

  “They’re using our own arrows against us,” a Legionary said as his shield rocked from an impact.

  “So, next time, carry more,” advised another. “Don’t leave so many behind.”

  “I wasn’t on arrow duty,” the first Legionary protested. “I had water detail.”

  “Shut up. Step back, get it together First Squad,” the squad leader ordered. “Less jawing, more stepping.”

  ***

  While the First moved steadily to the path, Third Squad rushed ahead. They passed the start of the path and formed an eight-man shield wall.

  From the administration building, Raiders emerged and jogged through the garrison’s gate.

  Alerio stepped in behind the shields.

  “Wait for them to be a step out, Private Procopius,” he advised. “Then slam and stab them. Then step back so First can flow through and make contact.”

  The charging Raiders screamed as they reached the Legion line. They hadn’t braced as their plan was to run the Legionaries down. Except, the line of stationary shields suddenly shot forward and staggered the running men. When the gladii tore between the Raiders’ shields, they realized it wasn’t going to be a pleasant day.

  The Legion line stepped back and the Legionaries spread apart. Momentarily, the Syracuse soldiers had breathing space. Seeing light between the shields, the remaining Raiders on the start of the path stepped forward.

  The lights winked out as First Squad’s shields filled in the spaces and hit the Raiders with their shields and gladii.

  Alerio was tempted to wrap his line of twenty Legionaries around the ten-man Raider line. But, the other squad of Syracuse soldiers had reached the garrison gate and Cephas needed his Legionaries back to defend the town.

  “Smash them, and run,” Alerio shouted as he turned and ran up the hill.

  Behind him, twenty shields hammered the Raiders back. The Legionaries turned and sprinted up the slope toward the line by First Squad’s shields and bowmen.

  Alerio raced around the shields of his doorway and slid to a stop. Below him, two lines of Legionaries were chugging up the hill. Slowed by the armor and shields, and the exertion of the attack, some were slowing.

  “Come on Legionaries,” he shouted as the line began to accordion. Those lower down were falling further behind the faster men. “Come on, run. Run hard.”

  The distance between the leading Raiders and the last of the Legionaries was growing closer. In another five steps, the gap would close and Alerio would lose two of the Commander’s Legionaries. He yelled in frustration, grabbed two javelins, and raced back down the hill.

  ***

  The Raider was targeting the back of a Legionary. Another step and a slash to his leg and the man would fall. Then the Syracuse solider would kill him. For a fleeting moment, he noticed a Legionary hopping down the hill. He discounted the man as he was too far away to be a threat.

  Alerio skipped so every other move downward allowed him to set his feet. On the fifth, he drew back his left arm. When his feet landed solidly, he threw the javelin. Almost as if it were headed for the slow Legionary, the shaft slid by the man’s helmet. Behind him, the iron tip entered the Raider’s cheek and drove into his brain.

  The next closest Raider watched his squad mate tumble back down the hill. He raised his shield to defend himself from the Legionary with the javelin hopping down the hill. The move slowed his pace and the slow Legionaries were able to put distance between themselves and their pursuers.

  As the two Legionaries reached Alerio, he yelled, “Extra duty for you both. Now run. If I beat you to the top, I’ll kill you myself.”

  Arrows fell from the Legion archers on the hill and the Raiders fell back. When the last three Legionaries passed the four shields, the doorway fell back to the mouth of the alleyway. Soon, the cart bed and boxes were up and the barricade sealed.

  Alerio didn’t stop running until he was standing in front of Cephas.

  “Fifteen Syracusan Raiders dead or wounded,” Alerio blurted out as he huffed and puffed while trying to catch his breath.

  “We cut their force in half,” Cephas confirmed. Then he glanced at the medical area. “Looks like two minor arrow wounds a
nd one with deep thorn scratches. I’d say the mission was a success.”

  “Yes, Sir. I agree,” Alerio said. “What’s happening on the beach?”

  A trumpet blared from far down on the lower plaza.

  “There’s your answer,” Cephas replied while turning to where the returning squads were milling around. “The day is not over yet, people. Squad leaders, get them into place.”

  Alerio looked up at the Legionaries on the rooftops facing the garrison. They seemed undisturbed. One looked back, smiled, and shook his head. Apparently, the Syracuse soldiers were taking some time to regroup.

  ***

  Down on the stairs, Second Squad braced as the Illyrian soldiers jogged up the stairs, and came on line four abreast. With shields held high, they charged across the plaza at the Legionaries. The front rank of Second Squad was hunched over with the bottom of their shields hanging over the short wall. The front line of Illyrians must have thought the Republic was recruiting little people.

  Just as they reached the Legion line, the Legionaries stood up lifting their shields to reveal the short knee-high wall. Too late to alert those pushing from the rear, the front rank’s lower legs slammed into the logs. Pressure bent them over and they died from gladii chops. The second rank Illyrians, expecting to power the first men through the Legion shields stumbled. They died from javelin thrusts. By the time the third rank figured out their charge had stalled, half of them fell from thrown javelins.

  There was a jam up as the retreating Illyrian solders backed into a screaming hoard of pirates scrambling up the stairs.

  Cephas pointed to his acting Sergeant, “First Squad, arrows.”

  As the NCO passed the order forward to the squad leader, Cephas spun to face his acting Corporal, “Third Squad, arrows.”

  By the time Third Squad received the order, First Squad was putting arrowheads into Illyrian pirates. When Third Squad added to the flurry of arrows, panic broke out on the second level plaza. Illyrians, both solders and pirates, began fighting for access to the stairs in an attempt to escape the slaughter.

  Four trumpets sounded from the beach.

  A smile creased Cephas’ face and he slowly turned to his acting Sergeant. “First Squad stand down,” he said before shifting his feet so he faced in the opposite directing. “Corporal. Third Squad, stand down.”

  The orders were passed from the NCOs to the squad leaders and then to the Pivot Privates. Soon, the arrows stopped falling but not until another ten more Illyrian pirates fell to the pavers on the second level plaza.

  “Lance Corporal Sisera. A word?” Cephas called out. When Alerio approached, the Commander asked, “What do you suppose four trumpets means?”

  “It sounds like a recall from each warship,” ventured Alerio.

  “Do you suppose they have enough rowers to get away?” Cephas asked.

  “Commander. You’re not thinking about going down and engaging them, are you?” Alerio inquired. “There are still almost four hundred left.”

  “Not them. Once the Illyrians are away, I want those Syracuse cūlus out of my garrison,” Cephas replied. “I’m putting Private Procopius and Third Squad in charge of the detail. What do you think?”

  “It depends,” Alerio stated.

  “Depends on what?” demanded Cephas.

  “On if you want prisoners,” advised Alerio. “Because I don’t think your wolves understand surrender.”

  “Then Third Squad should serve nicely. Now, go find a bath, Lance Corporal Sisera,” ordered Cephas. “Because, Legionary, you smell.”

  Act 8

  Chapter 61 – The Chain of Command

  The next morning a Legion bireme beached on Bova. First Sergeant Gerontius was the first to jump from the warship. Following closely behind came Senior Centurion Patroclus.

  They marched up the beach to where four Legionaries were laying in the sun. Behind them was a mound covered in a goatskin.

  “Where’s Centurion Laurens?” demanded Gerontius.

  “He’s dead, First Sergeant,” one of them replied.

  “Then who is in charge?” demanded Gerontius.

  “Garrison Commander Cephas, Sir,” another Legionary replied.

  The Senior Centurion and the First Sergeant exchanged glances.

  “And, what are you four doing?” Patroclus asked.

  “We’re on disposal detail, Sir,” a third answered.

  “I don’t see you doing anything,” commented Gerontius.

  “We’re waiting, First Sergeant,” a Private replied.

  “You’re disposing and waiting?” asked Patroclus. “Seems to me you’re just laying around sunning yourselves.”

  “Commander Cephas said not to leave the beach until it’s clean,” the Private reported.

  “Clean of what?” Patroclus demanded. He was losing patience with this game of question and answer.

  The Private stood and walked over to the mound. Grabbing an edge of the goatskin cover, he tossed it back. Arms, heads, legs and other body parts stuck out from the pile of bodies. Once the cover was back, the smell of rotting flesh and merda rolled over the First Sergeant and the Senior Centurion.

  “Who are they?” asked Patroclus.

  “Mostly Illyrians and I think in this load has a few Syracusan solders, Centurion,” replied the Private.

  “This load?” inquired Gerontius. “How many loads were there?”

  “Can’t be sure,” the Private replied, “But Commander Cephas said we had about one hundred and seventy-five on the beach. Although we brought thirty down from the garrison.”

  “What are you doing with them?” inquired Gerontius.

  “Feeding them to the sharks,” the Private explained while pointing to the horizon. “The patrol boats are dumping them way out. Commander Cephas said we didn’t have time to bury them. We have to clean the beach and make our garrison combat ready.”

  “Where can we find Commander Cephas?” Patroclus asked.

  “He’s either at the tower build. Or, maybe at the grave site,” the Private answered. “Or, at the Columnae Herculis questioning the Egyptians. Or, with the Spartan looking over our defenses. He moves around a lot. Or, he’s…”

  “I get it,” Gerontius said interrupting the Legionary. “Cover that; the bodies stink.”

  “That’s what we thought at first,” the Private assured his First Sergeant. “But after a while, you kind of get used to it.”

  Patroclus and Gerontius marched through the sand and mounted the steps to the first level plaza.

  “Pardon us, Sir,” a pair of sweating Legionaries said as they jogged down the steps.

  By the time Patroclus and Gerontius crossed the first level plaza and started up toward level two, the Legionaries passed them jogging up the stairs.

  “What are you two doing?” Gerontius demanded.

  The Legionaries stopped and turned to face he. “Running from Raiders, First Sergeant.”

  “I don’t see any Raiders,” declared Patroclus.

  “No, Sir. But if you do, we’ll be able to out run them next time,” the two said as they jogged away.

  “First Sergeant. What is going on here?” the Senior Centurion asked.

  “I believe, Sir,” Gerontius said, “That it’s time Corporal Cephas was promoted to Sergeant.”

  “He’s already a Commander according to everyone at Bovesia Garrison,” the officer observed.

  “If Garrison Commander was a Legion rank, I’d put him in the slot,” offered Gerontius.

  “Why is that, First Sergeant?” asked Patroclus.

  “Because, our young Corporal took command after the death of his Centurion and fought a big battle here,” Gerontius explained.

  “And what do you base that on?” inquire the Centurion.

  Gerontius pointed at the buildings around the second level plaza. Four Legionaries were pulling arrows and javelins from the joints in the stonework and adding them to a huge pile in the center of the plaza.

  “Legionaries
. Why are you policing up the area?” asked Gerontius.

  “Because Commander Cephas said it’s unsightly for citizens of the Republic to see the tools of war, First Sergeant,” the Legionary replied. “This is a place of commerce, and we welcome foreign ships to do business here. I think that’s what he said?”

  “Well, Senior Centurion, does that answer your question?” asked Gerontius.

  “It does. I look forward to reading Garrison Commander Cephas’ report,” the officer said as they continued across the plaza.

  Chapter 62 - Columnae Herculis

  “Steady there,” a voice yelled from the roof top. “We’ve got one chance to get this up.”

  “What’s the rush Lance Corporal?” a voice called out from the other end of the roof.

  “Private. Commander Cephas said it has to be up before First Sergeant Gerontius comes for an inspection,” the Lance Corporal replied.

  “Why would the First Sergeant care if it goes up today or tomorrow?” the Private asked.

  “Cephas explained that the First Sergeant likes to watch the sunset from the tower when he’s composing his poetry,” the Lance Corporal stated. “If the tower isn’t up, it’ll mess up his muse. Now, pull.”

  The Senior Centurion looked at the First Sergeant.

  “Epic, or love poems?” teased Patroclus.

  “I don’t write poetry,” growled Gerontius.

  When they looked up, the top of a watch tower appeared. It had been laying on its side. Lines pulled from one end of the roof while poles pushed, and the tower rose into the air.

  Gerontius glanced at Patroclus.

  “Nice to know I can watch an unobstructed sunset,” Gerontius uttered sarcastically.

  “Good morning, Senior Centurion,” a Lance Corporal said from the edge of the roof top. He was standing with his body squared to the tower, and his neck twisted so he could look down on Gerontius and Patroclus. “Don’t worry First Sergeant, your muse is safe with Third Squad. We’ll have the tower secured long before sunset. All right people, we’re wasting daylight. Let’s get this tower leveled.”

  Patroclus started for the Columnae Herculis diner while motioning for the First Sergeant to follow.