While he waited for the man to come back, Alerio gathered his cloak and squeezed out as much water as he could. The water ran down the trough. As it traveled, shiny inlays shimmered in the bed of the channel. He wondered if the objects would twinkle if the trough was blocked off and flooded.
The man reappeared at the end of the hallway and beckoned Alerio to come. Dropping the end of the soaked cloak, he marched towards him. At the end of the hallway, the man indicated for the Legionary to enter a room.
***
“What in Discordia’s name is this?” growled a large man sitting behind a desk. He waved a recently unfolded piece of parchment in the air and glared at Alerio.
Although older and a little thick around the middle, the man maintained enough muscle to present a formidable figure. His hair was gray and cut short as a Legionary would wear it. Alerio had no idea who the man was or what was in the letter. The gray-haired man calling on the Goddess of Strife and Discord gave no clue. So Alerio did what every enlisted soldier does when confronted by a person of importance, he saluted.
“Lance Corporal Alerio Sisera. 47th Century, Seventh Squad, Gurges Legion,” he announced with a cross chest slam of his fist. “And sir, I have no idea what’s in the Centurion’s letter.”
The man glanced down, read a section, and peered at the Legionary over the top edge of the parchment.
“Lance Corporal Sisera, I am Senator Spurius Carvilius Maximus,” the man stated. “You can call me General Maximus. Seneca was my First Centurion when we beat the Samnites. See that shield?”
The General pointed to a wall behind Alerio. Turning to look, the Legionary saw a Legion heavy infantry shield that had been cleaved half its height by a sword. Mounted on the walls to either side of the doorway were damaged weapons. A broken javelin, a chipped gladius, as well as tribal implements of war. All showing use during a battle.
“General that shield is in need of repair,” Alerio observed.
“Eight years ago, that shield saved my life, Lance Corporal,” related Senator Spurius Carvilius Maximus. “We had the Samnite's leaders trapped in their last fort. My third maniple had the honor of the final surge. Then, I did something stupid. Yes, Generals do stupid things. I rode parallel to my lines. I stopped behind the second maniple, ahead of my personal guard, to get a look at the barbarian’s defenses. A unit of Samnites cavalry smashed through and surrounded me. My horse went down and I leaped to the ground drawing my gladius. All I could see was ponies, hairy savages, and long swords. I deflected several but something rolled into my legs and I fell. One brute jumped from his mount and ran at me, his sword held high for a killing blow.”
The Senator reached out and took a gulp from a silver chalice. After wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he continued.
“Four thousand heavy infantrymen under my command and I lay like a lamb on an altar,” Maximus described. “The barbarian rushed at me yelling a victory cry. I feebly pointed my blade at him as if he would be kind enough to run himself through and die for me. Three steps from me, he began the kill strike. My world shrank to his thick, hairy forearms and the long, wide sword. It was falling towards my face and there was nothing I could do to stop it.”
The Senator stood up and walked around his desk. He marched across the room and stood by the damaged shield. Placing a hand on the oiled surface, he spanned the split with his fingers.
“Suddenly my view of the savage and the sword was blocked by a Legionary’s body and an infantry shield. This shield,” Maximus explained while running his fingers up and down the edges of the cut. “The sword’s blade sliced the infantry shield almost in half. Deep enough that the Legionary holding it began to bleed heavily from a cut on his left forearm. Most normal men would have retreated to care for the wound. Or, at least, use the shield for self-protection. Not him. The shield was at first in front of me, then behind me. Next, it appeared on my side to stop strikes before shifting to the other side where it defended me against more attacks from the savages. All the while, the Legionary bled. Yet the shield never failed to protect me from Samnites’ blades.”
Standing taller and seeming more like the General he’d requested Alerio call him, Maximus crossed in front of the doorway and lifted a long, tribal sword off of three wall pegs.
“This blade should have ended my life,” he explained holding the blade in two hands. “When my personal guard finally fought their way to me and drove off the Samnites, the Legionary and his shield were in front of me defending against any last attempts. By then, he was on his knees. The shield holding him up instead of him holding the shield. Covered in his own blood from helmet to knees, he turned his blood streaked face to me and said – General, the line belongs to the Legionaries of the heavy infantry. Generals belong with the command staff. Then, he toppled over. I thought him dead.”
General Maximus reverently placed the Samnite sword back on the wall pegs. He strolled across the room and resumed his seat behind the desk.
“I was informed that Centurion Seneca had seen my brash ride,” Maximus related. “He grabbed the shield from a wounded Legionary and sprinted a quarter of the length of our line to defend me. While he was recovering, I foolishly asked him what reward he would claim. He asked for two things. One was to give a share of the Samnite’s spoils to the Legion. That one cost me a fortune. Second, he asked if I ever received a letter from him, I would drop everything and read the note. No gold or public awards for him, only that I pay personal attention to his communiqué.”
Alerio watched as a smile broke the creases on the Senator’s face.
“In this case, the letter is worth more than the spoils I shared with the Legion,” declared Maximus. “Where is Tribune Peregrinus?”
“At his father’s villa,” Alerio replied. Maximus’ smile faded and he shook his head in understanding. “But I have the Legion dispatches and his pack.”
General Maximus’ eyes popped wide open and the smile returned.
“I’ll take the dispatches,” he instructed while clearing scrolls and parchment from his workspace.
Alerio dug into the pack and pulled out a packet of oiled goatskin wrapped letters. He peeled back the waterproof skin and handed the sealed parchments to Maximus.
The Senator read the names on the outside and separated them into four stacks. He selected one and opened it. Then, he stopped, studied Alerio and opened his mouth.
“I want to know what happened. But hold it until I get Marcus here,” the Senator tilted his head back and yelled, “Belen!”
The man who had opened the door for Alerio strutted into the room.
“Yes, General?” Belen asked.
“Send word to Villa Flaccus. It’s important that I see Marcus Fulvius this afternoon,” directed Maximus.
“Senator Fulvius is holding a reception for his selectors,” Belen reminded Maximus. “He is likely to beg off your invitation.”
“How do I phrase this?” Maximus asked sarcastically. “Inform him that if he wants my block of voters to elect him Consul tomorrow, he’ll get his cūlus over here, now! Of course, phrase it more diplomatically.”
“Of course, General,” Belen assured the Senator.
“Lance Corporal Sisera. My secretary will show you to the cook shed. Have something to eat while I read the dispatches,” instructed Maximus. “When Senator Flaccus arrives, I’ll need you to tell us about Volsinii. So, go light on the vino.”
“Yes, sir,” Alerio assured him as he followed Belen out of the room.
Behind him, he heard General / Senator Spurius Carvilius Maximus swear as he opened another letter.
Chapter – 20 Consul Elect, Senator Marcus Fulvius Flaccus
“Spurius, this had better be worth it,” a tall, thin man warned as he walked into the General’s study.
“Senator Flaccus. May I introduce Lance Corporal Alerio Sisera,” Maximus exclaimed while directing the man’s eyes to a Legionary standing off to the side of the room. “He was with the late Quintus Fabius Gurges at Volsinii
.”
“You summoned me here to see a Legionary…,” Flaccus stopped and he stared at the old General. “You said the late Gurges. As in, Quintus Fabius Gurges is dead?”
“Yes, killed in action at Volsinii,” confirmed Maximus. “Per Legionary Sisera.”
“How can you take the word of a single Legionary?” questioned Flaccus.
“I have the Legion’s dispatches,” explained Maximus while holding out both hands as if presenting a work of art. “Armenius Peregrinus was the courier. But his family locked out our Legionary, and the dispatches, once Armenius was carried into the villa.”
“If Peregrinus had gotten his hands on the dispatches, he would have used them for political ransom,” Flaccus stated. “Can you imagine the mess Caudex would have made if he got his hands on them?”
“But he didn’t. Thanks to an eight-year-old pledge, they were delivered to me,” Maximus gloated. “Here is your chance to bask in the glory and the adoration of the public.”
“What do you have in mind?” asked Flaccus.
“Tomorrow, as soon as you’re confirmed as Consul, you ask for a warrant to raise a Legion,” explained Maximus. “Lance Corporal Sisera, in brief, tell us the state of Gurges Legion.”
Alerio cleared his throat. He hadn’t expected the death of a Senator to be brushed aside without at least the appearance of grief. These powerful men were playing a political game far beyond a farm lad’s comprehension. Gathering his thoughts, he addressed the two Senators.
“Sirs. The Legion is secure behind their defenses,” Alerio reported. “There are too many wounded to retreat and not enough Centuries to continue the assault on Volsinii.”
“In your opinion, what was the cause of the Legion’s failure to capture the city?” asked Maximus.
“Hold on, what makes you think a Lance Corporal would know about military tactics?” asked Senator Flaccus.
“Let me see,” Maximus said as he picked up Seneca’s letter. “Lance Corporal, where were you during the initial assault?”
“With the reserve Centuries at the Legion camp, General,” replied Alerio.
“And after the Legion was routed?”
“I commanded the squads guarding the gate.”
“And how many barbarians did you and your squads engage while holding the gate?”
“I’m not sure, General. We were kind of busy.”
“According to your Centurion, you fought off over five hundred warriors,” explained Maximus. “While letting wounded and retreating Legionaries through to the safety of the camp. So, I ask you again, what was the cause of the Legion’s failure to capture the city?”
“Cavalry, General. We committed ours too soon and the Insubri’s mounted warriors hit the lines from the rear,” Alerio stated. “Too many of them. Not enough of ours. The maniples had the Etruscī from the city stopped and moving back. It was their cavalry that broke our lines.”
“Gurges’ tight purse strings were his end,” Flaccus commented. “It’s also our problem in the morning.”
“Granted, the Flaccus Legion will take all the reserve budget,” Maximus admitted. “But let me handle that. You give a rousing speech to energize the Senate and the public and I’ll work a few deals to free up the gold.”
“Didn’t you say Armenius Peregrinus was the courier,” Flaccus pointed out. “He could be a problem. His father will use him as a first-hand witness in every public square in the Capital.”
The General again referred to Centurion Seneca’s letter.
“It seems young Peregrinus has a genius for organization,” Maximus ventured. “I believe he will make an excellent assistant to our governor in Crotone province. I’ll make the motion for his appointment along with an award for valor for the young man.”
“And what of Lance Corporal Sisera?” inquired Flaccus.
“Our Legionary doesn’t need anything, yet,” Maximus explained. “However, in a few years, he’ll need a sponsor to appoint him to Centurion. Plus, he’ll need coin to outfit his Century. That’s if the Lance Corporal can keep his lips sealed about what was said in this room.”
Alerio’s mind had drifted back to a comment someone made about needing a sponsor and a heavy coin pouch to be a Centurion. He missed the last part of Maximus’ statement.
“Well, Lance Corporal, can you keep this discussion to yourself?” demanded Flaccus.
Coming back to the present, he stammered, “Yes Senator. Yes, General and thank you.”
“I want you cleaned up and at the Senate at sunrise,” instructed Maximus. “You won’t be called upon to talk. But, if I point to you during the proceedings, simply snap to attention and salute me. Understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Belen will show you out. Senator Flaccus and I have a speech to write,” Maximus ordered. “Dismissed.”
Alerio picked up his pack, slammed a salute to his chest and marched out of the Senator’s study.
Chapter – 21 Chronicles Humanum Inn
It was a long way from the Senator’s villa to the Legion Transfer building near the port. But Alerio didn’t realize it. His mind was full of the possibilities of becoming a Legion officer in the future. Once he reached the boulevard, he settled into the rhythm of the Legion jog and the distance vanished under his pounding boots.
“Lance Corporal Alerio Sisera, Seventh Squad, Forty-Seventh Century, Gurges Legion,” he reported to the duty Corporal in the building.
“Noted, Sisera. First time in the Capital?” asked the NCO.
“No Corporal, I’ve been here before,” Alerio informed him. “Is the city guard still a problem?”
“The city guard is always hunting Legionaries. Just don’t give them a reason to lock you up.”
“They’ll get no trouble from me,” Alerio assured him as he left the Transfer building.
***
Heading east, Alerio decided to walk. Although the clouds threatened, the rain had stopped, and he enjoyed the familiar stroll. Once over the boulevard, he took the last few turns and stopped at the cloth sellers.
“Master Zacchaeus. I am in need of your services,” Alerio called out as he pushed through the door.
From the back room, the old tailor shoved aside the curtain and stopped.
“Legionary Alerio Sisera. What can we do for you today?” inquired Zacchaeus.
“Interesting turn of a phrase,” Alerio replied. “As it is, I need a military tunic for a sunrise visit to the Capitol building. Tomorrow morning.”
“For anyone else this late in the day, it would require a purse of gold,” Zacchaeus informed him. “But for you, step into my fitting room.”
The tailor ushered him into the back room.
As the old man climbed onto a stool, he asked, “Weapon’s instructor, raider flag from the eastern Legion, Lance Corporal designation, any new awards or units since the last time?”
“You can add a combat rowing insignia,” Alerio said as he stripped off his wool shirt.
“Seeing as you keep adding to your display, I would recommend a shoulder scarf,” suggested Zacchaeus. “It will hasten the process of dressing you for the morning. We can work on the tunic and the scarf separately.”
“Excellent idea,” agreed Alerio.
Once Zacchaeus had fitted a rough tunic to the Legionary, the old tailor climbed off the stool.
“Go have a bath and a bite to eat,” Zacchaeus instructed. “Come back at sundown for a final fitting.”
Alerio paid the tailor, shouldered his pack and left the cloth seller’s establishment.
***
Across the street and a little further down the road, Alerio stopped to admirer the levels of the Chronicles Humanum Inn. After a moment of hesitation, he mounted the steps up to the porch and pushed into the great room.
Junior officers and senior NCOs sat at tables eating and drinking from mugs of vino. Alerio wove his way between the tables until he reached the long granite countertop.
“Innkeeper, can a Legionary get
a vino in this place?” he called across the counter. His voice carried down the center hallway.
“Hold your mentula,” Thomasious Harricus called from the storage room.
He appeared moments later with a basket and a stack of clay mugs. His eyes were on the stack.
“Service sure is slow in this place,” Alerio teased.
“If it’s not to your liking, you can take your business elsewhere,” Thomasious shot back.
“And miss out on your pleasant personality?” Alerio replied.
Thomasious carefully set the mugs on a shelf and spun to face the mouthy customer. Seeing Alerio, he smiled, snatched up a mug and drew vino from a cask.
“There’s nothing worse than a smelly Legionary who doesn’t respect his elders,” Thomasious said while placing the mug on the counter. “Just off the road, are you?”
“Do I smell that bad?” Alerio asked as he took a sip.
“A bath, I can help you with. But a room is harder,” Thomasious explained. “After firebreak district burned, the Senate decided not to let anyone rebuild it. The plan is to extend the Capital outside the defensive walls. They have hundreds of slaves building roads and installing utilities around the hills and out into the fields. And with slaves comes Legionaries.”
“I take it you’re booked up?” guessed Alerio. Then something the Senators discussed came to him and he asked, “Are the roads and utilities expensive?”
“Expensive? My little clay ears tell me all the Senators are worried about financing the expansion,” Thomasious replied. “Just fielding Gurges Legion required them to borrow from this year’s budget.”
“So, any new costs will add to the debt?” inquired Alerio.
“And put the budget into a deficit. Empty coffers are not a good way to start the year,” Thomasious added. “When did you become interested in finances?”
“I’m not,” lied Alerio. “I just thought if I talked to you long enough, you would think of a place for me to sleep.”
“I guess, I can give you a storage room. At least it’ll be a roof over your head.”
Clay Warrior Stories Boxset 2 Page 11
