Uncertain Honor

by J. Clifton Slater

  Uncertain Honor

  Clay Warrior Stores

  Book #16

  J. Clifton Slater

  Uncertain Honor is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. I’m not an historian although, I do extensive research. This book is about the levied, seasonal Legion of the mid-Republic and not the fulltime Imperial Legion. There are huge differences.

  The large events in this tale are taken from history, while the dialogue and close action sequences are my inventions. Some of the elements in the story are from reverse engineering mid-Republic era techniques and procedures. No matter how many sources I consult, history always has holes between events. Hopefully, you will see the logic in my methods of filling in the blanks.

  The manuscript for Uncertain Honor has been beaten into submission by the ever-diligent Hollis Jones. With each fine-tuning, she and her red pen tightened and adjusted the story. Her editing notes are the reason the story makes sense and flows. For her work and guidance, I am grateful.

  If you have comments, please e-mail me.

  E-mail: GalacticCouncilRealm@gmail.com

  To get the latest information about my books, visit my website. There you can sign up for the newsletter and read blogs about ancient history.

  Website: www.JCliftonSlater.com

  Thank you for being a part of Alerio’s stories.

  Euge! Bravo!

  Table of Content

  Uncertain Honor

  Act 1

  Chapter 1 – the Wedding

  Chapter 2 – Ostia Naval Offices

  Chapter 3 – The Naked Beast

  Act 2

  Chapter 4 – Failed Invasion

  Chapter 5 – Overextended Services

  Chapter 6 – Flying Rabbits

  Act 3

  Chapter 7 – Heart and Duty

  Chapter 8 – Gods and Grain

  Chapter 9 – The Special Branch

  Act 4

  Chapter 10 – Chasing Rations

  Chapter 11 – The Price of Chance

  Chapter 12 – Revenge is a Waste

  Act 5

  Chapter 13 – Grain for Hungry Mouths

  Chapter 14 –Bronze Rams at Dawn

  Chapter 15 – Battles at Sea

  Act 6

  Chapter 16 – Commotion and Control

  Chapter 17 – Competent Leadership

  Chapter 18 – Chaos at Kelibia

  Act 7

  Chapter 19 – Dominate the Beach

  Chapter 20 – Taking Fort Kelibia

  Chapter 21 – Passion nor Compassion

  Act 8

  Chapter 22 - Senatorial Decree

  Chapter 23 – Regulus Legion North

  Chapter 24 – Account Rebalance

  Act 9

  Chapter 25 – The Dagger Wound

  Chapter 26 – Better Off Bored

  Chapter 27 – Hold and Fury

  Act 10

  Chapter 28 – Rulings and Regrets

  The End

  A note from J. Clifton Slater

  Other books by J. Clifton Slater

  Uncertain Honor

  Act 1

  After eight years of war, the heavy infantrymen of the Republic had imposed massive damage on the forces of the Qart Hadasht Empire. Not enough to drive them out of Sicilia, but certainly a foreshadowing of the future. While the Legionaries dominated on soil, victory at sea was less assured. The Roman Senate took accounting of their successes and decided to capitalize on their strength. They would skip over Sicilia and take the ground war to the walls of the enemy’s capital.

  Seventeen thousand legionaries, light infantrymen, officers, cavalrymen and their horses, plus supplies needed to be transported to the Phoenician city. The endeavor would entail almost doubling the current fleet of warships, plus leasing transports. The Senate voted for the funding, passed the necessary decrees, and appointed a proconsul to oversee the work. For the legislatures, the plan seemed reasonable and complete. From dirt level, building an armada to transport four Legions eight-hundred-twenty-two sailing miles was ridiculously complex.

  Welcome to 256 B.C.

  Chapter 1 – the Wedding

  Gabriella undid the loop of wool, freeing the bridal rope. Then, to the horror of the witnesses, the bride lowered her head and examined each of the frayed ends.

  “She might not,” an old woman whispered.

  “Do it,” a young unmarried girl coached in a soft voice.

  “Walk away,” another matron suggested.

  DeMarco remained fixated on the strands of wool, ignoring the nervous chatter and the rising sun.

  “Senator Calatinus has a daughter of marrying age,” Aquila Maximus said behind her hand. “She is rich and has land. I’m just saying in case this one doesn’t work out.”

  “Lady Aquila, the Senator’s daughter is ugly and not very bright,” Alerio uttered back.

  “Then she’s perfect,” Aquila pointed out. “She will never cheat on you or attempt to swindle you out of your wealth.”

  During the exchange between Alerio and his adopted mother, Alerio never took his eyes off Gabriella. She didn’t seem to notice, until a beam of morning sun lit up her yellow veil.

  The veil illuminated in the rays, almost as if it was the flame of a candle. In the glory of the moment, Gabriella raise her head. With a nod in Alerio’s direction, the bride tied a knot in the bridal belt and drew it tightly around her waist. Now encircling her and symbolling the marriage, the knot and rope would remain in place until her husband untied it on their wedding night.

  ***

  At first the witnesses applauded politely. But Hektor Nicanor, caught up in his emotions, slammed his hands together and yelled so loudly, the sharp sounds caused several people to flinch. Although it did lighten the mood which permitted the crowd to roar its approval of the wedding.

  A woman, long married and faithful to her husband, shuffled forward, and took Gabriella’s hand.

  “She can still walk away,” the older matriarch said in Alerio’s direction.

  Senior Tribune Sisera marched from the far side of the patio and stopped an arm’s length from the older woman. She grabbed his hand and pulled him forward to stand beside Gabriella.

  “Well young lady,” the matron suggested. “You’ve come this far.”

  Laugher exploded from under the veil. Gabriella took Alerio’s hand in hers and recited the traditional wedding oath.

  “When and where you are, Gaius, then and there I am, Gaia," she stated. “For I am bone of your bone, and flesh of your flesh."

  The older married lady reached up and began untying the veil.

  As nervous as Alerio had been in the dark of morning while waiting for the dawn ceremony, he was doubly so now. What if she scowled at the idea of being bonded to him for the rest of her life? What if she changed her mind and ran from Villa Maximus?

  The veil fell away, and full sunlight touched the bride. The white dress and head covering glowed, the gold flakes in her brown eyes sparkled, and Gabriella smiled at him.

  “You two can stand there all day making crazy eyes at each other,” the matron offered. “But there are blessings to beg. I recommend you get on with the tasks.”

  Hand in hand, the couple walked to the torch of Ceres.

  A Priest from the Sanctuary of the Goddess handed Gabriella a burning branch. The bride held the flame against the torch until it flared to life signaling the warmth of the Goddess of a fruitful earth, fertility, and motherly relationships. Behind the couple, whispers of approval ran through the gathering. With a strong breath, Gabriella blew out the branch and handed it to the Priest along with a couple of coins.

  “May the Goddess Ceres bless this union,” he intoned, “and gra
nt you many sons and daughters.”

  Alerio and his bride curtsied to the Priest. They strolled around the patio acknowledging the guests while heading for a pair of other Priests. In the back of the crowd, Spurius Maximus and Marcus Regulus watched as the Priests of Jupiter set their mugs of wine on a table in anticipation of the couple reaching their location.

  “What happened, Spurius,” Senator Regulus teased, “you wouldn’t untie your purse strings and pay for the Flamen Dialis?”

  “I’m glad I didn’t vote you into the Consul seat,” Senator Maximus told him. “For your information, Jupiter’s Head Priest is ill, and one of the three Majors was out of town. And lastly, when your daughter marries, know that two Flamires Majores do not come cheap.”

  “I didn’t run for Consul, Spurius, and you know it,” Regulus joked. “But you did saddle me with the yoke of Proconsul. But I forgive you, in light of your advice concerning my daughter’s nuptials.”

  “As far as Proconsul,” Maximus acknowledged, “you are the best man for the job.”

  “But I’m only one man and the task would be too much for Hercules,” Regulus admitted.

  “What you need, Proconsul Regulus,” Maximus suggested, “is a senior tribune with knowledge of training oarsmen, drilling legionaries, and building and outfitting warships.”

  “And where would I find that rare gem?” Marcus Regulus asked.

  “He is about to receive blessings from two expensive Major Priests of Jupiter,” Maximus answered. “Plus, I would consider it a personal favor. If Alerio is busy building a fleet, he won’t be tempted to join a marching Legion. And head off to war leaving his new bride and his mother behind to worry.”

  The Flamires Majores raised their hands.

  “Who comes before the Sky Father?” they demanded.

  “Together we stand as one,” Alerio replied. He reached out and slipped each Priest a coin purse, “as a loyal citizen of the Republic, honoring the Gods.”

  “Jupiter hears your words,” the Priests promised. “This union is blessed by the Sky Father.”

  Alerio and Gabriella, not wanting to release each other’s hands, spun to face the guests.

  “Who has witnessed the joining of this man and this woman?” the matron asked.

  Ten people, as the law dictated, stepped forward and formed a row. Alerio and Gabriella walked down the file.

  “I will attest that the proper traditions have been observed,” each of the ten announced. In turn, they received a coin from Gabriella before finishing. “I am a witness to this wedding.”

  In a flurry, Alerio’s birth mother ran to Gabriella, threw her arms around the bride, and pulled her away from her husband. As an orphan, the bride didn’t have a mother or a female relative to protest the taking of her daughter. Alerio’s mother happily volunteered, and his two sisters swooned at the idea of having another sister.

  “My wife belongs nowhere else, except with me at my villa,” Alerio declared. He reached out, gently removed his mother’s arms, and pulled Gabriella into his embrace.

  The tradition of removing a girl from her home and making her the matriarch of a new household ended the morning ceremonies. The guests broke into clusters, talked, and sipped watered wine. They had an entire day of socializing, drinking, and feasting, before forming a parade and following the new husband and wife to the Sisera Villa.

  ***

  Around midday, the Lady Aquila flashed a hand sign at her husband. In response, he searched for his aide.

  “Belen, is the feast prepared?” Spurius Maximus inquired.

  “All is ready, sir,” his secretary answered.

  “Lady Sisera, may I have the honor of escorting you,” Spurius asked. He offered his arm to Alerio’s birth mother. “I am sure, Optio Sisera can find his way to the feast. I never met a Legion NCO worth his salt who couldn’t locate a table ladened with food.”

  Alerio’s father and Civi Affatus, the head of Villa Maximus’s household guards, were in the back trading war stories. At the Senator’s statement, the former Optios raised their heads.

  “Did you mention food, General?” they inquired.

  ***

  While the guest passed through the doorway to the banquet room, Proconsul Marcus Regulus waited. His mind turned over the idea of drafting a senior tribune to oversee the additions to the Republic’s fleet.

  “Your mind is far away, dear,” Marcia Regulus commented. “Are you thinking back to our wedding day?”

  Marcus blinked to clear his mind and looked down at his wife.

  “How did you guess?” he asked.

  “Save your rhetoric for the floor of the Senate,” Marcia scolded him. “I know better. But please tell me you aren’t thinking about joining a Legion and getting mixed up in the Qart Hadasht scheme.”

  “My dear, I am a Senator of the Republic and the Proconsul of Construction for the fleet,” Marcus explained. “Even if I wanted to, no one wants me in charge of a Legion.”

  “I take a small bit of comfort from that,” Marcia admitted. She hooked her husband’s arm with her arm and squeezed her body against it. “Marcus, for today, please forget the fleet. Let’s enjoy the wedding.”

  “An excellent idea,” the Proconsul declared.

  Regulus stopped and turned Marcia’s face upward. They shared a long passionate kiss before joining the wedding feast. Although they were the last couple to enter the banquet room and caused a delay in the cake cutting ceremony, neither of them cared.

  ***

  Gabriella had been swept away by married women eager to give her the facts of life. Around the gathering of wives, unmarried girls hovered on the perimeter, listening to the words of wisdom. Also, in the crowd stood Isos Monos. Although he mostly created for the Maximus Villa, the Greek artist kept his eyes and ears open for his next commission from another patron of the arts.

  In a corner, Nicholas DeMarco used three sticks he plucked from the garden to demonstrate the form and function of a lever. Several Legion and civilian engineers commented on the concept. Individuals with technical and mathematical minds tended to gather in groups. Other guests avoided Gabriella’s brother and his contemporaries because they seemed to be speaking a foreign language.

  Absent his bride, Alerio looked around for a safe harbor. A hand rose and waved him to a table occupied by a pair of men.

  “Alerio Sisera, I remember the day when a lost Lance Corporal stumbled into my inn,” Thomasious Harricus greeted him. The proprietor of the Chronicles Humanum Inn indicated a chair. “Today, you seem just as lost. Are congratulations not in order?”

  “Master Harricus. Master Kellerian,” Alerio admitted to his two friends. “I have fought when there wasn’t enough blood in my body to hold up my head. And I’ve faced overwhelming odds that knotted my gut with fear. But nothing matches how I feel today.”

  “You survived those,” Tomas Kellerian told him. The armorer of the Historia Fae pushed a mug of wine across the table. “You will survive this friendly battle.”

  “Are you planning to stay in the Capital?” Harricus asked. “Or will you ship out with the Legions?”

  “What do you mean, ship out?” Alerio inquired.

  “Surely you’ve heard the news,” the inn keeper gushed. “The Senate voted to take the fight to the enemy.”

  A serving girl came up behind Thomasious Harricus, whispered in his ear and walked away.

  “Is the Clay Ear working my wedding feast for gossip?” Alerio demanded.

  Beside running the inn, Master Harricus collected news and social tidbits, then sold them on scrolls under the alias of the Clay Ear.

  “Would I use the wedding of a friend to collect…”

  “He is using your wedding to collect scandalous items,” Tomas Kellerian advised. “But I’m curious. Are you joining the invasion of Qart Hadasht?”

  “No. I’m managing Senator Maximus’ business interests,” Alerio told them. “It’s an opportunity to spend time with Gabriella. Remember I’m newly m
arried.”

  “You certainly are,” Thomasious Harricus confirmed. “Now go greet your other guests. And if you happen to hear any juicy pieces of gossip, I pay generously.”

  “Thanks for coming,” Alerio offered while shaking hands with his friends.

  Alerio stood, turned, and found himself facing Proconsul Marcus Regulus.

  “Senior Tribune Sisera, can I have a word with you?” Regulus asked. He glanced down at Kellerian and Harricus, before added, “Alone?”

  “Yes, sir,” Alerio replied.

  The staff officer and the proconsul left the banquet hall and strolled to the patio.

  “I assume you’ve heard of my assignment,” Regulus offered.

  “I’ve been working with the construction crews to finish my villa. There hasn’t been time to follow the news of the day, sir,” Alerio informed him. “But I did hear you accepted the job of building the fleet.”

  “I did and I need help,” Regulus confessed. “Your father is afraid you will join the Legion and head off to Qart Hadasht. I suggested to him that you come to work for me. You’ll serve the Republic and still get home at night.”

  “I hate to point out the obvious, sir,” Alerio commented, “but the naval facility at Ostia is twenty miles from my villa in Rome. That’s not exactly home by dusk distance.”

  “Family is something I understand. Tell you what. Suppose I rent you and your bride a home in Ostia Town,” Regulus proposed . “You’ll be my adviser for the building of the fleet and still be close to home.”

  From the doorway, Alerio’s adopted mother and his birth mother stepped onto the patio.

  “Is there something wrong with men?” his mother asked.

  “There must be,” Aquila replied. “Here we are at a wedding feast and the groom is off talking about the-Gods-know-what.”

  “I understand the Sisera men,” his mother stated. “Alerio is talking about war and fighting.”

  “Apparently, Alerio is a Maximus,” Aquila avowed, “because they also enjoy chatting about Legion battles.”

  “Ladies, please,” Regulus protested. He held up his hands as if surrendering. “We were discussing not going to war.”