The Medic glanced up with a quizzical look on his face before shaking his head and returning to the task of bandaging the wound.
Another transport arrived behind the first ship and fifty more Legionaries disembarked. The Republic had landed a full Century of heavy infantry, their Centurion and NCOs, a half squad of signalmen, and skirmishers. Not enough to take the town but certainly enough to hold the dock and warehouse district of Messina.
Act 5
Chapter 30 - Sunrise Surprise
Alerio found a better fitting pair of boots. As he slipped his bandaged foot into the left boot, a familiar voice greeted him.
“Lance Corporal Sisera. A Greek shield and chest armor, Legion shoulder rigs, an Egyptian pit fighter helmet and an Illyrian sword,” Gerontius stated observing Alerio’s scavenged equipment. “It must have been a busy night.”
“It was First Sergeant. Glad you could make it,” Alerio offered with a grin. “First Sergeant Brictius and the Sons’ Captain are walking the defense lines.”
“I’m sure they’re up to the task,” the First Sergeant of the Southern Legion replied. “What I need is your opinion of where to put Tribune Claudius’ command post.”
“We’ll need to push the Qart Hadasht troops back across the avenue and up a few streets,” explained Alerio. “From there you’ll have access to the Temple of Adiona. Other than the Citadel, it’s the highest observation point in Messina.”
Gerontius turned and looked to the north. The Temple and hill were in silhouette against the starry sky. Before the First Sergeant could turn back, an oarsman walked up behind him.
“Lieutenant Sisera. The men want to know if they can light a fire,” the oarsman inquired.
Gerontius spun around and watched the exchange.
“Keep it out of view from the alleyway,” Alerio instructed. “Behind the warehouse works. Have the Sons rotate between the shield wall and the fire until relieved by Legionaries.”
“Yes, sir. And thank you for pulling us back,” the oarsman said as he turned to go. “It was getting a might rough. Glad you finally got dressed though, Lieutenant. A naked officer is unsettling.”
“Naked and an officer?” exclaimed Gerontius as the oarsman vanished in the dark. “I guess it was a busy night.”
***
Alerio watched as two more transports were towed to the dock. Tribune Gaius Claudius climbed over the rail and as soon as he touched the dock, the First Sergeants, two Centurions, plus a Corporal of the signal corps rushed to greet him.
With two Centuries of heavy infantrymen landed, the Sons of Mars were relieved from their five locations. In the dark between the warehouses, oarsmen in mismatched gear were replaced by Legionaries with their heavy shields and javelins.
Seven transports made the crossing before a crown of white light appeared on the mountains to the east. The last one hundred Legionaries didn’t arrive. At the sight of four Qart Hadasht Triremes entering the Strait, the signalman in Rhégion Tower waved the ships and patrol boats to stand down. In the coming daylight, the sea and Strait once again belonged to the warships of the Empire.
***
“First two ranks, on line,” shouted sub-commander Gisco. As his orders were repeated by Qart Hadasht Lieutenants, the senior officer faced the warehouses. “This is your last chance to end the rebellion. Send out your Captains and save yourselves. Or else, face the swords of the Empire.”
“We can’t do that,” yelled Milon Frigian from the deep shadows. “You’ll have to come in and get us.”
“First two lines forward,” ordered the sub-commander. “No mercy!”
All along the western edged of the avenue, soldiers marched from the eight streets. They angled to lineup with the warehouse alleyways and lowered their spears.
“Forward!” the sub-commander shrieked.
The soldiers were marching to the alleyways in three ranks followed by their Lieutenants. Their officers couldn’t see over the tall helmets when they repeated the command. And the first rank didn’t have the authority or right to question their officer’s orders. They marched into the alleyways.
The long spears should have found gaps in the loose formation of the oarsmen’s shields. With holes punched in the line, the soldiers would assault through, breaking the Son’s line and the second and third ranks would follow killing those knocked down or wounded. It was a standard Qart Hadasht military tactic used successfully against armies and rebellious tribes. Every adversary of the Qart Hadasht Empire had broken from this style of assault.
The spearheads of the first rank deflected upward on the tilted Legion infantry shields. As the rank closed in on the uniformed wall of shields, the second and third rank pushed forward. From the over the Legion attack line, javelin thrusts struck and many of the soldiers on the front rank were wounded or killed. Dead, injured, or struggling to draw their swords, they were pushed onto the Legion shields by the mercenary ranks coming from the rear.
“Launch two,” shouted the Centurion, Century’s Sergeant and Corporal from different alleyways.
Heavy iron tipped javelins arched over the clashing front ranks. When the Qart Hadasht Lieutenants witnessed soldiers in their last two ranks fall from the air assault, they stepped back looking down the avenue at the sub-commander for directions.
Sub-commander Gisco, confident in the success of the assault, lingered at the side of the avenue. With a mug of wine in one hand, he washed his face with a damp cloth held in the other. Precious moments were wasted as he handed the cloth to his man servant and tilted the mug to drain it. When he finally glanced around, he was momentarily shocked to see all of his Lieutenants waving the distress signal.
He couldn’t comprehend the meaning. A few without experience panicking was to be expected. But all of his officers at once overwhelmed him. While he pondered the significance of the distress signs, his soldiers died in the alleyways.
Where the Qart Hadasht’s leadership failed, the Legion’s command excelled.
***
Tribune Gaius Claudius positioned himself at the center of the dock. On his right was Centurion Valerian, the newly appointed Senior Centurion of his expedition. First Sergeant Brictius stood to his left. Both men faced away from the Tribune.
“Initial assault broken on the right, Tribune,” announced Valerian after receiving positive signs from two signalmen.
“First Sergeant?” inquired Claudius.
“One positive and one holding, sir,” Brictius explained the delay. A few heartbeats later, he reported. “Initial assault broken on the left, Tribune.”
“Signal the advance,” ordered Claudius.
With hand signs, the Senior Centurion and the First Sergeant unleashed the Republic’s heavy infantry.
***
On the other side of the avenue, the next two ranks of Empire soldiers waited for orders. They could see the Lieutenants signaling franticly but their Sergeants called for them to wait. Their feet shuffling nervously, and their shields lifted in anticipation, they waited.
In the alleyways, the second and third ranks of the soldiers shoved forward. Not that they wanted to reach the unmoving shields and the javelins but to escape the falling javelin heads. There was a safe zone between the rear and the jabbing iron tips from the Legionaries. As men in combat who took time to think or pause for a moment, the survivors of the second and third ranks bunched up in the zone.
The sub-commander decided that all of his Lieutenants were cowards or unprofessional and lacking the fear and respect of their soldiers. After this was over, he’d ship them all back to Qart Hadasht in shame. There was always a new batch of nobly born brats to replace them.
“Third and fourth ranks, forward!” he shouted. Then under his breath, he whispered, ‘I’d better replace the Sergeants as well. And have them whipped for dereliction of duty, to impress on the new ones the need for discipline.”
As the Lieutenants repeated the sub-commander’s order, Senior Centurion Valerian and First Sergeant Brictius’ signs were pa
ssed from the signalmen to the Centurions or NCOs in the alleyways.
“Front rank, standby to draw. Draw!”
Javelins were hastily passed back and by the count of four, gladii were yanked from sheaths.
“Advance. Advance. Advance!”
The safe zone in front of the Legion lines vanished as the shield walls shot forward then retreated. In their place came steel blades. Again, and again, the progressing shields slammed into the soldiers and before they could recover, the blades stabbed out. None of the first three ranks that went into the alleyways marched out. Their bodies, hacked and stomped, were unrecognizable by the time the hobnailed boots passed over them.
***
On the streets, the next two ranks of Qart Hadasht soldiers stepped off briskly and angled towards the mouth of the alleys. They met and merged into three ranks. The leading ranks lowered their spears. Their Lieutenants stepped to the side to allow the ranks to enter the narrow space.
Suddenly, flights of javelins sailed from between the warehouse walls. With javelins hanging from legs and shields, the front rank faltered. Then, four ranks of Legionaries appeared. Without pausing, they smashed into the surprised Qart Hadasht soldiers.
***
“Contact on the avenue, Tribune,” both Valerian and Brictius reported at almost the same time.
“Show the Qart Hadasht some depth,” ordered Gaius Claudius.
Valerian and Brictius held up the hand facing the warehouses and motioned with the fingers of the other hand towards the upright hand.
Signalmen spoke to squad leaders, and the final twenty-six Legionaries marched into the alleyways. Instead of engaging, they stopped at the avenue holding their gladii low and their shields high.
What the Qart Hadasht sub-commander saw and feared were alleyways full of uniformed and ordered military ranks. Believing his troops were outnumbered and about to be slaughtered, he called out to his Lieutenants.
“Retreat. Back four blocks and setup defensive positions!” he bellowed as he pushed aside soldiers blocking his way as he fled up the town’s wide center road.
“The right side Qart Hadasht forces are withdrawing, Tribune,” reported Senior Centurion Valerian.
“They are withdrawing on the left side as well, sir,” Brictius said moments later. Then he added, “Nicely played, sir.”
Despite the cool morning air and the fresh breeze coming off the harbor, Tribune Gaius Claudius was sweating.
“I wonder if it would have worked if their commander realized we only had twenty-six infantrymen in reserve at the alleyways?” Claudius asked as much to himself as to the Senior Centurion and the First Sergeant.
“Should we pursue, Tribune?” Valerian asked.
“I don’t want us stretched too thin,” Gaius Claudius explained. “Get a forward squad patrolling on every street as if we owned Messina. We’ll see how far they run.”
Senior Centurion Valerian and First Sergeant Brictius marched off in different directions. Their signaling calling duties done, it was time they organized the expedition personally.
Chapter 31 - Hilltop Command
Sweat ran down the sub-commander’s face and his ornate plumed helmet partially blocked his vision from where it twisted sideways during the run. At the top of the hill, he slowed and straightened the helmet. There was nothing he could do about the sweat because it was a result of the run and who he faced in the Citadel.
“Sun-commander Gisco, reporting,” he announced as he walked into the Admiral’s office.
“Sub-commander, are you well?” asked Hanno setting down a quill. “You seem feverish.”
“Admiral. The rebellion by the Sons of Mars was a diversion for an invasion,” Gisco stammered between deep breaths.
“An invasion?” inquired Hanno as he leaned back in his chair and stretched. His rib cage expanded and, under his robe, the muscles rippled across his chest. “And just who are these invaders?”
“The Republic, Admiral. They must have crossed the Strait during the night,” ventured Gisco. “As uncomfortable as it was, I remained with our troops after an initial engagement with the Sons. I thought if I gave them until morning, they would surrender. When we assaulted, five hundred Legionaries countered. I ordered a retreat and we set up defensive positions.”
“Five hundred Legionaries in Messina?” Hanno stated. He stood, walked out of his office, through the main hall and out the reinforced doors. At the top of the slope, he gazed down on the town. “I would think if there were five hundred of the dirt farmers, they would be marching up the main road by now.”
“Well, maybe I over estimated, sir,” Gisco offered. “They came out from between the warehouses and attacked. I could see more staged there and took the best course of action.”
“And the best course?” Hanno asked with a tilt of his head.
“I pulled our forces back four streets and set up barricades,” explained Gisco.
“A fighting retreat?” asked Hanno.
“Ah, no Admiral,” Gisco confessed. “They didn’t follow us.”
“Let me see if I have all the details, sub-commander,” sneered Hanno. “After one skirmish, you retreated and surrendered a quarter of Messina to a band of garlic eating savages. Is that right?”
“If you put it like that, Admiral,” replied Gisco. “Yes.”
“I do put it like that,” Hanno said with exasperation. “Call out the garrison and pull two companies from the southern wall. Do it now, sub-commander. Do not stop for breakfast, a glass of wine, or to use the latrine. Understand?”
“Yes, Admiral. Right away,” Gisco responded as he headed back into the Citadel to alert the duty officer and have him send out runners.
Admiral Hanno let his eyes roam over the town. From the hill, he could see details on the upper section. Further down, the houses blocked more of the streets and the lower section was a cluster of maze-like runs. Beyond the warehouses, the harbor reflected flashes of the morning sun and he observed Empire warships on the Strait. At least he didn’t have to worry about more Legionaries crossing with the Triremes guarding the eastern approach to the town.
Then his eyes caught movement on the hill at the Temple of Adiona. He stood watching as men stretched something on the ground. Moments later, an ugly goatskin tent expanded blocking half the clay bricks of the temple building.
A group of men climbed the stairs and at the top, one turned. Even at a distance, Hanno felt as if the man was staring at him. The Admiral bared his teeth and growled at the man before realizing if he couldn’t see details other than shiny armor and a hint of color on the man’s helmet, the man couldn’t see his challenge.
‘Dirt farmers,’ Admiral Hanno thought as he spit on the ground. ‘Not in my town.’
***
“Who is the big guy at the Citadel?” questioned Tribune Claudius. He stopped at the top of the stairs to gaze across town at the higher elevation.
“I can make out two people, but I couldn’t tell sizes other than one appears larger,” confessed First Sergeant Gerontius. “You have good eyesight, sir.”
“I have always been blessed by the Goddess Theia,” admitted Claudius looking away from the hill. He took in the command tent set up beside the temple. “This location is excellent with a good view of the eastern sector of Messina. Although, I’d rather be on Citadel hill.”
“That’s why we’re here, sir,” Gerontius commented.
***
“Signalman, send two squads to reinforce the squad at the southern end of the street,” Tribune Claudius ordered.
“Yes, sir,” the man answered as he picked up two flags and started motioning with them
“What’s going on, Tribune,” Milon Frigian inquired. He squinted at the section of wall eighteen blocks away. To him, it was mostly haze with a few murky details.
“There is activity over the city wall,” the Tribune explained. “Could be an assault from that direction.”
“Tribune, without a doubt you are blessed by
Theia. But there’s no advantage to attacking the end of your line in a city,” Frigian suggested. “It’s probably a diversion.”
“A diversion,” pondered Claudius as he studied the town below him. While he enjoyed great vision, he couldn’t see through buildings. So, he looked where he could see and that’s when a flash caught the midday sun. Then another flash as a body ran between two large homes on the north side of Messina. “Signalman. Flag First Sergeant Brictius. Tell him to expect an immediate attack.”
“What are you thinking?” inquired Frigian.
“I’ll tell you, Captain. The Qart Hadasht are going to come over the south wall making a lot of noise and putting on a show,” Claudius explained. “But the real show will be below us on the north side. I imagine they’ll try and break through our lines. If they do, they’ll head up the stairs directly for my command post.”
“Cutting the head off the snake, so to speak, sir?” replied Frigian.
“Exactly. Can you put some Sons on our lines on the south streets to back up my Legionaries?” Claudius asked.
“Yes, Tribune, I can do that,” Frigian assured him. “But any soldiers we kill, we keep their armor and weapons. Deal?”
“You really are pirates, aren’t you?”
“Sons of Mars born and bred, Tribune,” bragged Frigian.
“It’s a deal, Captain Frigian,” Claudius assured the pirate.
Frigian rendered a sloppy salute, grinned and ran down the stairs. His hundred or so oarsmen were lounging around the dock. Their Captain soon vanished behind a warehouse heading in that direction.
“Not a bad choice, sir,” First Sergeant Gerontius commented. “We left a Century of skirmishers in Rhégion. Why not let the Sons of Mars take their place?”
“Tell me, First Sergeant. Which would you rather have?” inquire Tribune Claudius. “One hundred and twenty pirates or eighty Legion Velites?”
“The Legionaries of course,” Gerontius replied.
“So, would I. But our Velites are across the Strait and the Sons are here,” Claudius said. “My choice isn’t good or bad, it’s just convenient.”
Clay Warrior Stories Boxset 2 Page 36
