Unjust Sacrifice
Page 9
“You still need to work the supply depot,” Typus told him. “But I’ll allow the extra training. Keep the Senior Tribune out of the loop. And one more thing, Centurion Sisera.”
“Yes, sir?” Alerio asked.
“Don’t exceed your authority.”
That afternoon, Alerio sent the Century away. A short while later, two other Centuries arrived for training with the weapons’ instructor.
Act 4
Chapter 14 – Over Extended
By week two of training, the Legionary Marines were nasty fighters. Where the standard shield wall was designed to stop impulsive attacks, Sisera’s Centuries dodged, tripped, threw objects, and lunged through gaps. Kicking and scrambling, they drilled on taking an enemy off their feet, killing them and, moving onward. While Alerio taught from the supply depot, the Centuries jumped boards and practiced their unique style of attack further down the beach.
“What are they doing?” Senior Tribune Lubricum questioned.
He and five other noblemen were out for an early morning ride. Their route took them by the shanty town to the area where boards flanked ditches and Legionaries with cut off shields ran around the beach.
“I don’t know, Egidius,” one nobleman commented. “But they need a Legion weapons’ instructor. Those undisciplined antics won’t work in a maniple.”
“I agree,” Egidius Lubricum said. He nudged his horse down the embankment and across the beach to where an NCO in a knee brace stood watching Legionaries jump over a wide gap. “Optio. What is going on here?”
“Ship boarding drills, sir,” Rutri Gurganus replied. “The men are getting good at it.”
“An impossible daydream. All I see are conditioning exercises taken to ridiculous levels,” Senior Tribune Lubricum offered. “Find something productive for them until the real Legion arrives. Maybe an expansion of the naval base?”
Rutri’s face reddened but he held his tongue. Bad things happened to Optios who argued with Senior Tribunes.
“Yes, sir,” Rutri Gurganus acknowledged. “We’ll get to work on building walls and structures.”
The Senior Tribune nodded his approval. Then he and his entourage rode down the beach.
“Imagine trying to train for an infrequent occurrence,” a junior Tribune suggested. “as if Legionaries were pirates.”
“Ridiculous,” another Tribune confirmed.
***
Alerio finished with the two Centuries in the morning and dismissed them. A feeling of wellbeing washed over him as he strolled back to his desk at the supply depot. Not only were the Legionaries becoming a specialized fighting force, but his area of the supply based was organized.
“Bring on the warships,” he laughed. “We’re ready to outfit them when they arrive.”
He ducked under the entrance, stepped into the tent and, stopped cold.
Two young Tribunes and two Greek accountants were standing around his desk. It seemed as if every list of inventory and the delivery bills from the files were spread across his desktop.
“Can I help you gentlemen find something?” Alerio asked as he started to cross the room.
“Stay right there, Centurion Sisera,” one of the Tribunes warned.
From either side of the entranceway, senior staff NCOs stepped out to flank Alerio. They held their gladii down by their thighs.
“There are reports of inconsistencies in the supply depot,” an accountant stated.
“Do not speak directly to the supply officer,” the other Tribune scolded the Greek. “You’ll only give him a chance to think of a defense.”
“A defense against what?” Alerio demanded. “This department is solid. Every wagon load and every item has been accounted for by me.”
“Exactly, as logged in by you,” the other Tribune reported. “Except for the loads of lumber and steel that were diverted to the town.”
“If deliveries were made to town, they didn’t come from here,” Alerio asserted. “Not from this depot.”
“Witnesses overheard the teamsters say the loads were from Alerio Sisera,” the Tribune accused. “And I quote, you know what that means.”
“Is there another Alerio Sisera?” the first Tribune demanded. “And if not, what did they mean, Sisera?”
“I know what it means,” the second Tribune announced. “Centurion Alerio Sisera has been stealing supplies from the Republic. Sisera, you are relieved of all duties pending an investigation.”
Between the unbridled outrage of the young noblemen, the accusations, the rigid accountants, and the armed guards, Alerio figured someone wanted him out of favor. And not just accused, but totally discredited. A fight could only add to the bad situation. Alerio held his hands away from his weapons.
“Take my blades,” he instructed.
The NCOs reached out. One took his gladius while the other drew the pugio from the opposite hip.
“I’ll want them back when this is over,” Alerio commented.
All the papers were dumped in boxes. Alerio groaned inside. The haphazard handling and mixing of the records confirmed his suspicion. Someone wanted him preoccupied with details of these faulty charges. In place of what, he couldn’t imagine.
Then the invaders left his office. They took the paperwork and his weapons. But neither of the Tribunes gave him directions, arrested him, or told him where to go. Without responsibilities or restrictions, Alerio unstrapped the sword belt, placed it on his desk, and walked out of the supply depot and the naval base.
***
It was late in the afternoon when he reached Doctor Allocco’s hospital. Alerio planned to drop in on the physician before finding an excuse to see Gabriella DeMarco. But he didn’t need to visit the clinic or find an excuse. The women and a gang of men were behind the buildings, across a field, standing by a stream.
“How goes the construction?” Alerio asked Gabriella.
“The carpenters have finished the water wheel and the laborers have dug the circle,” she told him. “Nicholas is waiting for the metalworkers to finish the hub.”
A wooden flume started uphill at a pond and narrowed to a spout at the end. Where the water came out, a circular hole was cut in the dirt. The flow of water just touched the edge of the excavated earth. River rocks layered the bottom of the circle and a large stone with an indentation occupied the center of the bed of rocks.
The metalworkers hammered a round piece of iron until the edge was flat and the center created a fat point. Under the guidance of Nicholas DeMarco, the metal was set in the center of the wheel and nailed into place.
“Get it up and flip it over,” Nicholas ordered. “Slowly. Be careful of the blades.”
Ten laborers lifted the wheel, rolled it over, and carried it to the layer of rocks. Gabriella’s brother dropped to his belly beside the circle of dirt and Alerio walked over to watch the operation.
“A little to the right,” Nicholas directed the men positioning the water wheel. “Right and down. Good, set it.”
Pushing off the ground, he instructed carpenters to set a beam with a cross piece into the top of the wheel. Once poles were tied to the beam to keep it upright and the wheel level, Nicholas smiled at Alerio.
“That, Centurion Sisera, is a water wheel,” he bragged.
“It looks like a wide wagon wheel on its side,” Alerio told him. “although I can see how the water will hit the blades.”
“The pressure of the water hitting the blades will spin the wheel,” Nicholas explained. “In turn, rotating the upright beam. A cross piece at the top of the beam will roll the runner-stone around the bed-stone. As long as water can run down the flume, the stone will roll and grind grain.”
“What’s left to do?” Alerio inquired.
He attempted to visualize a mill and the grinding process. Other than the horizontal wheel turned by water, he didn’t understand.
“We build a floor at the grinding level with a hole for the beam. We lower the bed-stone down over the beam and put a roof on the structu
re,” Nicholas said with enthusiasm. “And we grind fine wheat flour for tasty bread.”
“I had some supplies delivered,” Alerio questioned. “Do you have the receipts?”
The young man glanced around at the lumber, the metalworkers, and the laborers. He shrugged.
“I haven’t a clue where any of this came from,” Nicholas confessed. “You might check with Gabriella.”
***
Alerio moved to stand beside the beautiful Gabriella. He smiled at her.
“Do you have the bills from the wagon loads I had delivered?” he inquired.
“They’re in our shop,” she replied. “Come with me and I’ll get them for you.”
As they strolled back to the building, Alerio peered at the woman’s profile. At birth, Venus used her hands to shape Gabriella. Only a Goddess could form the soft lines of her face, the curves of her upper body, and molded the supple hips.
“Is something wrong, Centurion Sisera?” Gabriella inquired.
Alerio quickly straightened his head and looked forward.
“No, ma’am,” he replied.
“You were staring awful hard,” Gabriella remarked. “I feared, I had dirt on my face.”
“No, ma’am, you are perfect,” Alerio gushed. “I mean, you aren’t dirty. Ah, there are no…”
“I think I get the point, Sisera,” she said, allowing a smile to grace her face. “That’s odd. The backdoor should be open.”
The backdoor of the one-story leather shop was closed. The DeMarco’s had two apprentices and two servants. It being an unusually warm day, the door should be open to let in air.
“Stay here,” Alerio ordered Gabriella.
He sprinted for the corner, kicked up gravel as he turned down the alleyway, and raced for the front of the building.
Chapter 15 – I Am More
The double doors at the front that let in light and allowed customers to see the premade merchandise were open. For this, Alerio was grateful. But it didn’t relieve the feeling of apprehension.
He slipped to the edge of the doorframe, leaned around and peered inside. A man with a steel knife stood with his back to the doorway. On their knees in front of him, the staff of four huddled and quivered.
One man holding hostages didn’t constitute a problem. When a second and a third man crossed behind the frame of a side door, Alerio began to worry. They appeared to be searching Gabriella’s officer for something.
Steel knives were a clue. Anybody could buy an iron knife. The investment in a steel blade told him two things. The man had money to spend meaning he was a successful thief and preferred working with quality gear. Faced with a fighter, Alerio slipped his hand to his hip. Of course, both his gladius and his Legion dagger were not there.
Scrutinizing the interior of the shop, he spied a three-foot long dowel and a short-bladed leather tool. Only the tool sat on a workbench across the room from the hostage taker. The stick, although less deadly, rested on a shelf halfway to the hostages.
Three steps in, the man spun to see who entered the shop. At four steps in, the man raised the blade. Then Alerio snatched the stick from the shelf and leaped at the man.
As a trained fighter, the man instinctively parried the stick. If the attacker had been afraid or leery, the deflection should have allowed the thief a breath to adjust.
But the Legion weapons’ instructor whipped the dowel around the steel blade and poked at the knifeman’s eye. The man dodge backward opening a space for Alerio’s foot. It caught the man’s knee and, in addition to being painful, the kick propelled the robber back into a stack of leather scraps.
“Get out,” Alerio ordered the DeMarco’s staff. “Move, move, move it.”
The apprentices and servants rushed to the exit. As they fled, a thief wearing a red scarf came from the office to see about the yelling.
“Sorry, the shop is closed,” Alerio informed him. “The staff is on break.”
“Who are you?” red scarf demanded.
“Centurion Sisera. But I am afraid, I don’t know much about leather goods,” Alerio remarked.
He tapped the palm of his hand with the stick. If it had been a substantial club, the action might have had more of an impact. As it was, red scarf drew a sica, cut the air twice with the short-curved weapon, and moved forward.
Alerio needed one more thing before he could retreat. It came but almost too late to matter. The third thief stepped from the officer while stuffing papers into a pouch. He wore a vest with six pockets.
“Kill him and meet me,” six-pockets advised.
Now Alerio could get out of the confined space and go to work. He moved quickly to the double doors, stepped into the street, and sang.
They come to me blindly
Not realizing I am more
Clearing the frame, Alerio backed into the street and crouched with the stick extended as if it was a sword.
“What is he saying?” red scarf asked.
“I don’t care,” six-pockets replied. “Kill him and let’s be done with this.”
Unaware their confidence is in vain
Their arrogance a shame
Red scarf and steel knife split apart while six pockets walked away.
All lives a waiting game
***
Alerio shifted to his left forcing steel knife to pivot on his wounded knee. And he continued singing while the injured man turned awkwardly, blocking the blade of red scarf’s sica.
They come to me blindly
Not realizing I am more
Once the two assailants were stacked in a file, Alerio jumped forward, landing within striking distance. Steel knife jabbed out and red scarf ran up behind him, trying to get his blade in the fight.
Unwary their fate is not mine to reimburse
Alerio’s right wrist caught the knife hand and guided it up to shoulder height. Then he slapped steel knife man with the stick twice before kicking the knee again. The man folded and fell to the side.
Ignorant of my curse
All lives are disbursed
The sica sliced over the falling body. Alerio slipped a hand under the other side of the falling man and pushed him back until the thugs collided. With the thieves stacked momentarily, the Centurion lowered a shoulder and drove them backwards.
They come to me blindly
Not realizing I am more
***
Gabriella DeMarco arrived as her staff burst from the doorway. Quickly, she gathered them and sent her four people up the alleyway. Before she could follow, Alerio Sisera shuffled backwards from the shop to the center of the street. Gabriella wanted to follow her staff but screeching and groaning came from the Centurion. At first, she thought they were sounds of pain. Then Sisera separated his legs for balance and lifted a dowel stick. A wooden rod she used to shape leather belts. Although not a weapon, he raised it as if to duel with the three men who emerged from her shop.
The utterances came again from between the Centurion’s lips.
Uneasy on my shoulder sits the judge
Sisera kicked one man, caught him, dodged a sword thrust, then bull rushed both men backward. All the while reaching over his head to tap the men with the dowel. The light pole couldn’t be hurting them.
From her a deadly smudge
All lives end with a nudge
Alerio stepped on the falling man and while the sword blade stabbed downward, the Centurion delivered an overhand blow to a man wearing a red scarf.
They come to me blindly
Not realizing I am more
Sisera growled as he planted a knee in the man’s chest and rode him to the ground. Once down, the Centurion lifted the knee before driving it into the man’s jaw. Gabriella heard the snap of bone breaking.
The smooth violence and the egotistical song upset her. Who claims, ‘I am more’? More than what? Then she heard the answer and it sent chills through her.
Nenia sworn to do her sacrifice grim
On the Goddess’s whim
/> All lives are lived slim
Centurion Sisera was an adherent of the Goddess of Death. Because only a true believer would sing of her in the middle of a fight. And only one ready to accept death would identify as her follower.
Gabriella DeMarco offered a prayer to Spes, the Goddess of Hope, for protection. Then she ran up the alleyway to get help.
***
Alerio used the edge of one hobnailed boot to kick the steel knife from the hand of the other man. He glanced up the street in the direction of the retreating six pockets.
On the Goddess’s whim
All lives are lived slim
He sang before snatching the steel knife from the dirt and charging up the street after the third thief.
***
In a foot race between a street thug and a Legionary, there was one clear winner. To survive in the Legions, one ran. Sprints, middle length foot races and, long distances, Legionaries ran. And so, Alerio had no problem sprinting the length of the town.
Six pockets slowed as he approached the civilian stables. He took time to open a gate. He wasted heartbeats looking over the mounts. The reins went over a selected animal’s head…
Alerio didn’t slow down when he reached the stables. He simply leaped the fence then ran directly at the thief.
Six pockets vaulted up, throwing one leg towards the animal’s back. Then he was swept away from the horse, carried a few steps before Centurion Sisera slammed the thief into the soil. A fist to the side of the thug’s head took the fight out of him.
“Let’s see what you stole from the DeMarco’s,” Alerio commented.
He opened the pouch and lifted out a handful of wadded up paper.
Chapter 16 – Guilt by Allegation
Five laborers stood in a semicircle. Against the wall surround by the men, Doctor Allocco finished wrapping a man’s jaw shut.
“I’m afraid it’s a bad break,” she told him. “I set the bones, but you’ll have trouble chewing for months.”