Senior Centurion Valerian paced around the supply wagons at the command post. Sometime after moonrise, two medics arrived with a wounded Legionary, passed the man off to the doctor and reported contact along the northern defensive line. Then, they sprinted back to First Sergeant Brictius. Since the message, Valerian had no further updates so, he paced.
From the east, a line of Legionaries marched up from the direction of the harbor. Valerian couldn’t tell the unit as no flag hung from the polished flag pole. Helmets bounced at their sides, packs hung from their shoulders and covers protected their shields.
“Report,” called out the Senior Centurion.
“Centurion Valerian. First Maniple, Requiem Division, Caudex Legion reporting in,” a Centurion responded. “What’s the situation?”
“We’re in contact to the north,” Valerian explained, waving the leading rank to an open field. “Stage your personal gear and form up in columns.”
The first maniple’s twelve Centurions smoothly directed the nine hundred sixty battle tested infantrymen into ranks on the field. After orders were passed, they dropped packs, leather bags, and covers fell to the ground in stacks. Then, the first maniple marched for the north wall.
Valerian stood with his hands on his hips staring into the dark street. Even after the units’ standards vanished and the last rank disappeared in the black shadows, he maintained the pose. Relying on his years of experience, he strategized where to place the rest of the Legion as the units arrived. He no longer paced uselessly.
***
First Sergeant Brictius raced from one end of his position to the other side. There, runners from the young Centurion reported contact coming from that side. Then he pounded ground to the other side and received the same report from the other inexperienced line officer.
The Qart Hadasht’s probes, so far, had been on the flanks. The center, where the First Sergeant expected an attack to be focused, remained quiet. With squads spread out and Sons of Mars’ oarsmen filling in the gaps between the two hundred or so remaining Legionaries, he’d managed to cover the defensive line with two ranks. But two ranks could be breached in the night. His personal laps between placements were his attempt to find the breakthrough before it got out of control. As he ran back to the other side, he heard a familiar sound and stopped.
The unmistakable stomp of hobnailed boots came from the northern gates. Soon, ranks of men appeared in the moonlight.
“A Century to the left,” First Sergeant Brictius ordered. Once the last rank of the eighty Legionaries came through the gates, he shouted again. “Next Century to the right.”
Brictius’ forces had just doubled with the arrival of the unknown Legion units. As more Centuries came through the gates, he realized his Centuries actually had been relieved.
“What’s your unit?” he asked when a third Century came through the gates and a Centurion approached him.
“First Maniple, Third Century,” the officer replied. “I hope you’ve left a few Qart Hadasht for the lads, First Sergeant.”
“I’m going to pull my Centuries back,” offered Brictius realizing the new units were the most hardened veterans in the Legion. And the veterans didn’t play well with less experienced units. “My two Centurions are young and might not appreciate first maniple’s gentle manner.”
“You do that. We’ve got this under control,” the Centurion assured him. “Give me a rundown on your defenses.”
As they talked, two more Centuries came through the gates and split left and right followed by the rest of first maniple. Once the gates cleared, stretcher-bearers carried bloody Legionaries to the doctors at the command post. The first blood of the First Punic War poured onto the ground from wounded Legionaries.
***
“Where is Gaius Claudius?” Appease Caudex demanded. “I thought he’d have the courtesy to meet me on the dock.”
The First Century of Legion HQ surrounded the command post except for three of its members. Two of them bracketed General Caudex while the third Legionary stood at his back.
“General. Senior Tribune Claudius left at dark to do a reconnaissance of the Qart Hadasht forces,” explained Valerian.
“Why would a staff officer be doing the job of our scouts and raiders?” asked Caudex. By his tone, everyone knew it was a rhetorical question. “Just what is going on here? Pirates under the command of a Lance Corporal guarding the harbor. My Senior Tribune running around beyond Legion lines in the middle of the night. And an unguarded command post in the middle of a city. Where are your reserves?”
“This is unprofessional,” added Tribune Maris Eutropius. “Clearly there is a lack of leadership from the command staff.”
Senior Centurion Valerian bristled, snapped around and started to reply to the accusations. But the sounds of hobnailed boots shuffling on the street caused him to turn away.
First Sergeant Brictius came into view surrounded by walking wounded. Behind him, two bloody Centurions marched beside exhausted and dirty Legionaries.
“First Centurion. Move your line and let my Centuries through to the medical tent,” growled Brictius. “We’ve just come from killing Qart Hadasht soldiers in the dark. I imagine my lads will have an easier time killing in this lantern light.”
A ripple ran through the Legionaries behind the First Sergeant. Although half of them were injured, they responded to his words by picking up their feet and marching with their backs’ straighter.
“Half-moon formation,” ordered the officer and one side of the First Century shuffled inward opening a path to the medical tent.
“And what is my First Sergeant doing, commanding Centuries in battle?” complained the General.
“Sir, if we could move to the Citadel, I can give you a full report,” suggested Valerian.
“An excellent idea,” replied Caudex as he glanced at the supply wagons, the medical tent and the dark streets surrounding the command post. “And someone find Claudius and have him join us.”
As the General and his entourage marched westward, Valerian hesitated.
“Nicephrus’ Division of Caudex Legion has yet to make the night crossing,” he explained to Brictius. “The rest of Requiem Division are staged two blocks from here. Get them dispersed to our defensive lines. Leave two of our Centurions here to coordinate. You and First Sergeant Gerontius take the other two Centurions and get a handle on the dock. Secure a warehouse and stow the Legions’ supplies. And be sure our lads coming off the lines have extra rations and get prime campsites.”
“Yes, sir,” said Brictius. “It’s good to have fresh heavy infantrymen.”
“That it is, First Sergeant,” replied Valerian before turning and jogging after the General.
But the second Legion never arrived at Messina Harbor.
***
Colonel Palaemon Nicephrus, after consulting with Tribune Velius of Southern Legion’s Planning and Strategies, decided to take his Legion directly into the fight. Despite Velius’ objection, Nicephrus Division of Caudex Legion sailed from Rhégion to a narrow strip of beach between the south wall of Messina and the forces of King Hiero II.
Thinking to catch the Syracusans while they slept, Colonel Nicephrus landed two Centuries for security. Then, he jumped to the waters, splashed ashore and stood watching as the specialized transports rowed in. Three hundred horses and cavalrymen hit the beach and, once sorted into troops, were ordered to attack King Hiero’s camp. While the horsemen galloped off to begin a shock and awe campaign, the rest of Nicephrus Division began the tedious task of landing. Its four thousand men came in wave after wave of ships grinding onto the shore. If the beach had been wider and, the transports unloaded faster, the infantry might have been able to support the cavalry.
***
Syracusan patrols missed the beaching of the first couple of horse transports. By the time the Legion cavalrymen gathered, messengers were racing to warn Hiero’s soldiers and horsemen.
The mounted Legionaries split apart and approached
the campfires in a three-pronged attack. Their horses trotted over unfamiliar ground and the mounted Legionaries lowered lances. Then their formations flexed and broke apart as Syracuse cavalry charged into their flanks. In the dark, the Syracusans burst through in mass, circled and charged from all sides. After three passes, the integrity of the Legion cavalry disintegrated and the officers ordered a retreat.
However, the hasty decision to attack without first allowing the infantry to set their lines left the horseman with two choices. Ride for Messina’s defensive line or fight their way back to the beach.
Many of those trying for the campfires at the city wall were chopped down from behind. While the mounted Legionaries had to pick routes over the ground avoiding holes and gullies, the Syracusan cavalry knew the landscape.
“Caudex Legion,” shouted the first Republic horseman to reach Messina’s defenses.
His arrival triggered a response from some of the second maniple, Requiem Division. By the time five more riders reached safety, the nine hundred sixty heavy infantrymen of the second maniple were up and forming a barrier of shields and javelins. In the moonlight, they opened for Nicephrus’ cavalrymen before snapping their shields together daring the Syracusans horsemen to come against the iron tips of their javelins.
***
At the beach, messengers alerted Palaemon Nicephrus of the failed attack. Quickly, the Colonel ordered what Legionaries he had to form a defensive line.
While Centurions from the second and third maniples shouted for the Sergeants and Corporals to gather their Centuries, some of the veterans of first maniple marched forward and set a short defensive line. After some shuffling, they pulled the covers off shields, pulled on helmets and tossed anything unnecessary to the fight behind them.
“Step on my cover or gear and I’ll gut you after I finish with the Syracusans,” the veterans warned the maniple forming behind them.
By the time troops of returning cavalrymen reached Nicephrus’ Division, there were three lines of shifting shields to create lanes. As the horses raced through, the shields relocked. Instead of the Legion’s full maniples, the lines were half that number. The mounted Legionaries were ordered to the ends of the lines to prevent Syracusan cavalry from getting behind the formation. Meanwhile, on the beach, as Legionaries landed, they found their places and the Legion’s battle lines grew in length.
In the grey false dawn, Colonel Palaemon Nicephrus ordered the last of his transports to make for Messina Harbor before the Qart Hadasht Navy found them in the Strait and sank his supplies and support staff. Then, seeing Hoplite phalanxes heading his way, he directed a retreat to the walls of Messina.
Three hundred horses landed but only one hundred seventy-five cavalrymen survived. Most of the blood spilled that night was Legionary. This among other things threw General Appease Caudex into a fit of anger.
Chapter 5 – Caught Between
“You are telling me, Senior Centurion Valerian, that I landed two Legions in a stew pot at full boil?” General Caudex summarized. He walked to a chair and sat. Glancing at the signal corps officer, he inquired. “What of Nicephrus Division?”
“He hasn’t landed in the harbor,” the Centurion reported. “I’ve men stationed there. You’ll be the first to know when his ships arrive, sir.”
“It seems, I will be the only one in Messina who knows anything,” shouted the General. “And where is Senior Tribune Claudius? Probably as dead as my plans to sneak quietly into this backwater den of pirates. And before I could solidify my position, we already have contact with Qart Hadasht forces. All I need now is for King Hiero to wake up.”
The door to the Citadel opened and a man with a slight stoop and narrow set eyes stepped into the planning room.
“Colonel Requiem. What news?” inquired Caudex. “Tell me something to please me.”
“Requiem Division is settled in and all the defensive positions are manned,” the Colonel stated.
“I sense more and, from the look on your face, it won’t make me happy,” suggested the General. “Out with it. This night can’t get much worse.”
Colonel Pericles Requiem crossed the room, poured a mug of wine and took a sip. He swirled the vino around in his mouth as if it was the last drink of his life.
“Colonel Nicephrus made landfall on that short stretch of beach south of here,” Requiem informed the General after swallowing the wine.
“He what? We discussed landing there but discounted it,” Caudex said while his hands waved in the air as if to clear the knowledge as if it was offensive smoke. “You said we couldn’t get enough Legionaries on land fast enough to fend off an attack. How do you know he landed there?”
“The remnants of his busted cavalry units are filtering in through my second maniple,” Requiem informed him. “I assume his infantry is near the beach. My Centurions are swapping the positions of my first and third maniples. If the Syracusans chase him, I’ll have a reaction force of veterans ready.”
The door opened and an out of breath Legionary rushed to the signal corps’ Centurion. After a few quick words, the officer looked at Caudex.
“General, Colonel Nicephrus has landed at the beach,” the Centurion informed the General. “A segment of his cavalry has reached our defensive line.”
“Tell me something, anything, I don’t already know,” General Caudex ordered.
“Nicephrus Division is egressing from the beach and moving towards the Legion defensive line,” the Centurion responded. “They are not in contact as they move.”
“And how would you know that?” inquired Caudex.
“One of my Legionaries has the blessings of Theia,” replied the signal corps officer. “Once he had some light, he was able to report on the movement.”
“Well there’s something,” admitted the General. “I haven’t lost any more of my heavy infantrymen.”
“General Caudex. If Colonel Nicephrus is to be replaced, I stand ready to step in,” offered Maris Eutropius. “And do my duty.”
Consul General Caudex’s mouth fell open and he had to stifle a laugh. Visions of Eutropius dispersing punishment and extra duty or reduced rations for the merest infraction during the march and while boarding the ships, sent a shiver through his body. If ever Tribune Maris Eutropius gained a command, the Legionaries under him would mutiny. And the General would probably join them. The last gave him the first laugh since the march from the Capital.
“No Maris. You are a Senior Tribune and belong at my side. I need you to direct the other Tribunes,” the General informed him. “Now, let’s go outside and see if Colonel Nicephrus can finish the movement without losing any more of my Legion.”
The command staff followed the General out of the Citadel. A short distance from the structure, they stopped on the crest of the hill. To the south, they saw fuzzy masses drifting across the landscape. If they didn’t know better, in the low light it could be herds of goats or cattle. northward provided only a view of sharp ridges and a few Legionaries walking their posts. The Messina Strait resembled a dark ribbon but they could see the outlines of transports rowing for the harbor.
“Well at least one thing is going right,” General Caudex breathed out. “Nicephrus’ supply ships are going to make it safely into the harbor.”
But the outlines appeared to be motionless. The longer they watched, the less progress the transports made towards the harbor.
“The tide has turned and the transports can’t make Messina,” commented Colonel Requiem. “They had best head for Rhégion. If they miss that port, the Qart Hadasht triremes will sink them.”
“Don’t you ever have joyful news?” the General inquired.
Pericles Requiem believed himself to be a critical thinker. He weighed each situation and offered the wisest solutions always with the best intentions. However, joy was never a consideration. Then he glanced down the hill.
“I believe, General,” he said letting a smile cross his thin lips. “We’ve located Senior Tribune Claudius.”
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At the foot of Citadel Hill, a Legionary from First Century Headquarters stopped a man covered in dirt and sand. The man’s rough woolen clothing was caked with mud from his chest to his sandals. Even his hair and face displayed recent close contact with damp earth. Yet through the grime, his eyes flashed and the firm set of his jaw revealed the determination of the man underneath.
The guard held his javelin across his chest and blocked the man’s path. In two heartbeats, the Legionary stepped to the side and saluted. Gaius Claudius was back from the dead and he wasn’t happy.
***
“General Caudex. My apologies for not meeting you upon your arrival,” Gaius stated.
“I can see you’ve had your hands full,” Caudex replied. “A lot has developed since you went raider.”
“It was worth it General. I estimate seven thousand Qart Hadasht troops to our north,” reported Gaius. “They’re behind a short stone wall at a choke point between the Strait and a marsh. Combined with King Hiero’s troops, that puts our enemies at over twelve thousand.”
“Yes, that’s interesting,” the General said. “But the Qart Hadasht army is Colonel Requiem’s concern.”
“Gaius. You look exhausted,” suggested Maris Eutropius. “Why don’t you go clean up, have a bite to eat and get some rest. We can handle it going forward.”
“That’s an excellent idea,” Caudex encouraged. “We’ll talk later.”
Claudius half turned towards the Citadel and a satisfied grin snaked across Eutropius’ face. But the Tribune didn’t walk away. Raising a hand, he summoned a staff servant.
“Water, a rag, wine and my viewing tube,” Claudius ordered.
“Right away, Senior Tribune,” the man said. Then he ran for the Citadel.
“I thought you needed to rest?” inquired the General.
“No, sir. For three weeks, every Legionary in Messina has been doing double watches and double duty,” Claudius responded. “We’ve held this together and kept the Syracusans confused enough that they didn’t attack. With only five hundred Legionaries, they could have walked into the city after a brief skirmish. But they didn’t.”
Fortune Reigns Page 4
