Clay Warrior Stories Boxset 1

by J. Clifton Slater

  “Handling raw leather is hard work,” Tomas explained. He slowed the mules so the guard patrol would be in front of his team. “I needed someone with a strong back and one who knows how to keep his mouth shut.”

  “You there. What’s it like working with the Armorer to the Gods?” another teased.

  Tomas swung around and clubbed Alerio in the shoulder with the whip handle. “He’s deaf and dumb,” Tomas explained. “As I said, I like my help to keep their mouths shut. With him, it doesn’t matter.”

  Alerio opened his mouth in surprise but didn’t utter a sound when the whip handle smashed into his shoulder. He peered out from under his cloak at the armorer. Tomas ignored him as he pulled on the reins as if attempting to restrain the mules. In fact, he pulled both to their left.

  “Aromataque gee, Aromataque gee,” Tomas shouted at the mule before saying to the city guardsmen. “Sorry. She’s getting tired and ill-tempered. Do you want to search my wagon? There’s nothing like the aroma of fresh leather, goat urine, and lye to liven up your evening.”

  Between the thought of smelling fresh tanner’s products while avoiding the snapping jaws of the mule, the city guard decided against searching the wagon. The Lance Corporal motioned for the wagon to move on.

  “Have a good morning, Master Kellerian,” the guard NCO said.

  The wagon crossed the boulevard and Kellerian and Sisera could hear the guards talking about how mean it was to strike a deaf mute so hard. It just confirmed the guardsmen’s opinion that Kellerian was a tough taskmaster and none of them would like working for him.

  Along the quiet road bordering the Portunus Temple, Alerio whispered, “That hurt.”

  “I know,” admitted Tomas. “But it had to be convincing.”

  “Now I understand what Nigellus meant,” Alerio replied.

  “Nigellus was a good student,” commented Tomas. “He knew how to take a hit. What did he say?”

  “Pretty much the same thing,” answered Alerio. “Sort of the same thing.”

  They reached the harbor intersection and Tomas turned the wagon to the left. Six blocks later they crossed the north-south boulevard.

  The sky was pitch black and other than the widely spaced lanterns, there was little light. A single lantern marked the intersection before the city’s defensive wall. Tomas turned left and guided the mules towards the Chronicles Humanum Inn.

  Chapter 41 - Discipline, Death, and Intelligence

  “Colonel Nigellus. Corporal Gratian reporting as ordered, sir,” announced the NCO as he marched into the great room of the inn.

  “Tesserarius. Glad you could make it,” replied the Legion Battle Commander. “What have you brought me?”

  “Sir, First, Second, Fourth and Fifty squads,” Gratian stated. “Heavy infantry of the Central Legion. Our armor is in transit but we’re ready to go.”

  “I like your spirit Corporal,” Nigellus said. “But, I think we have time to wait for your equipment. Have the men get some rest. It’s going to be a busy day tomorrow.”

  “Yes, sir,” the Gratian acknowledged. He slammed his right fist into his left breast.

  Nigellus returned the salute, pivoted his head and spoke to Thomasious, “I’ve heard people say the Republic is doomed. Our young people are soft and aren’t hard enough to face the struggles we did in building it. That young NCO brought forty Legionaries into a closed city and was ready to go into battle without his armor. If he’s an example of our youth, the future is in good hands.”

  “It’s not the young I worry about,” replied the innkeeper. “It’s the old and fearful. The ones who want to stop progress and seek safety behind treaties with our most vicious enemies.”

  “Senator Ventus and his compatriots haven’t succeeded yet,” Nigellus reminded him. “I have intelligence from our defensive forts. It should be enough for the Senate to stop any treaty.”

  “I hope so Champ,” Thomasious said softly. “I hope so.”

  The two men sat, each keeping his own counsel, while in the courtyard, forty Legionaries gambled, slept or chatted in the chill of the evening. A Legionary was sitting on a barrel with a cluster sitting around him listening while he softy sang a song. One figure paced between squads offering words of encouragement or advice.

  Tesserarius Gratian, usually the first to take a chance and always up for a bet, couldn’t relax. Being the senior NCO for a clandestine mission going against the wishes of the Senate wasn’t what had him worried. Paramount for the Legion Corporal was the safety of his men.

  A long time later the rumble and clatter of a mule team and a wagon came from the side of the inn. Erebus unlatched the gate and swung it open. Tomas urged the mules through the opening and pulled them to a stop in the center of the courtyard.

  “Alright people. That wagon isn’t going to unload itself,” a relieved Corporal Gratian announced. “Fifth squad collect your gear. Forth squad stand by.”

  Tomas and Alerio climbed to the wagon’s sides and unlashed the goatskin cover. Hands reached in and pulled out armor and shields.

  “Just take the top layer,” Tomas instructed. “You can sort out who belongs to what away from the wagon.”

  The packing was precise and soon all four squads had it unloaded. Alerio noticed a few items laying on the floorboards.

  “Is someone missing their gear?” he asked as he glanced around at the Legionaries.

  “Yes, Lance Corporal Sisera. You and I are missing our gear,” Tomas explained as he pulled out a set of new armor. “Here. This one is yours. I’ll need the sections back to adjust them for the dual harness. For now, it’ll protect you in a fight.”

  After handing off the armor, a helmet, and a shield, Tomas reached back into the wagon. He lifted out the fish scale armor.

  “I thought maybe I could test it,” Tomas ventured.

  He was standing on the far side of the wagon and a group of Legionnaires gathered around him to see the unique plates.

  “Well. Don’t stand there gawking,” Tomas complained. “Help me strap this on.”

  While a few hands reached to hold the armor with the small plates, others secured the straps. Colonel Nigellus appeared in the doorway. He stood looking around at the squads strapping on their armor. However, he wasn’t seeing them, his mind was turning over a problem.

  “Lance Corporal Sisera, Corporal Gratian,” the Colonel called out. “A moment of your time, if you please.”

  He started to turn when a voice addressed him from the far side of the wagon, “You’d think a Centurion would be included in a war planning session.”

  Tomas stepped out from behind the wagon. His helmet tucked under his left arm leaving his right free to salute.

  “Centurion Kellerian, reporting for duty, sir,” announced the armorer.

  “You still look as if you could beat a recruit into the sand,” Nigellus replied.

  “I still can Colonel,” confirmed Tomas.

  “In that case, Centurion Kellerian, do join us,” Nigellus said. Spinning on his heels, he marched back into the inn.

  ***

  Once Kellerian, Gratian, and Sisera were seated at the table across from Nigellus and Harricus, the Colonel started speaking.

  “Lance Corporal Sisera. You saw this barbarian on the Qart Hadasht boat?” he questioned.

  “Yes, sir, he met with Gabrielus,” answered Alerio. “On the boat at the pier.”

  “The one thing I don’t have is intelligence on the enemy’s plan,” Nigellus explained. “I would like the opportunity to have a talk with the barbarian. Any ideas?”

  “Give me five Legionaries to take the boat. And we’ll deliver him to you,” Alerio assured him

  “Wouldn’t it be safer to take an entire squad?” asked Corporal Gratian.

  “We can sneak six men from here to the harbor,” Alerio explained. “Moving eleven and we’re sure to be seen.”

  “That’s an odd take on the manpower requirements for the mission,” challenged the Colonel. “Usually heavy
infantrymen prefer going in stomping with a healthy dose of bloodletting. What unit were you with in the eastern Legion?”

  “Legion Raiders, sir,” Alerio explained. “Centurion Stylianus and Optio Horus’ command.”

  “Alright. Corporal Gratian pick five men to accompany Lance Corporal Sisera,” the Colonel ordered then added. “Make sure they are strong swimmers.”

  Centurion Kellerian knew the Republic lacked a large navy and most of their warships were for coastal patrols. Chasing and engaging pirates on the water was dangerous. He agreed with the suggestion to use expert swimmers. But putting a young Lance Corporal in charge of the operation worried him.

  “Colonel, shouldn’t we have a more experienced NCO on the mission?” Kellerian suggested.

  “Lance Corporal Sisera, do you need a more experienced NCO?” Nigellus asked.

  Alerio stood up and bent his head forward to display the crescent shaped scar on his head.

  “I killed four rebels before I started Recruit training,” he explained. “And I was part of a two-man rescue mission in a warehouse full of Greek radicals. I wouldn’t think a snatch and grab of a barbarian off a boat guarded by rowers would provide much of a challenge.”

  “He doesn’t lack for confidence, does he?” the Colonel asked Kellerian.

  “Or experience. I withdraw my objection,” Tomas replied.

  “Five expert swimmers, I’m on it, sirs,” Tesserarius Gratian said as he stood. “Come on Lance Corporal Sisera. I’ll introduce you to your team.”

  Act 6

  Chapter 42 - Fire Watch

  Alerio lead the five Legionaries out of the inn, past the Cloth Seller’s, the Apothecary, and the Candle Maker’s compounds. The group crossed the road near the city wall and entered an alley. Keeping off the roads, they weaved between merchant compounds following the defensive wall southward before it gently wrapped around towards the west. They veered away from the wall at the south gate to avoid the guardsmen. Once over the boulevard, they slipped back nearer the wall.

  When they moved behind the Golden Valley Trading compound, Alerio thought he saw the shape of a man squatting on the roof of the villa. But it was dark, the light low, and he figured his eyes were playing tricks on him. Two blocks later, the Legionaries arrived on the southern end of a warehouse.

  The six-man snatch team eased along the façade of the storage building. At the far end, Alerio held up a hand to halt the team. He leaned around the corner to get a glimpse of the harbor and the piers.

  “Who are the best talkers?” Alerio asked the Legionaries.

  “You looking to parlay your way onto the Empire boat?” an infantryman asked.

  “You’re one, who else?” inquired Alerio.

  “I talk a pretty good game,” another responded.

  “Alright. There are two merchant ships at the dock,” Alerio instructed. “We’re going to march out acting like city guardsmen. One talker to each of the merchant ships. I want the fire watch on those boats engaged in deep and philosophical discussions with you.”

  “You want us to just talk?” one asked in surprise.

  “It’s better the ships’ watches be talking to you,” explained Alerio. “Instead of calling for real city guardsmen when the sword fight breaks out on the Qart Hadasht launch.”

  “That will only leave us four bodies to take down the ship and snatch the barbarian,” complained another Legionary.

  “Actually, you two are the snatch team,” Alerio said as he tapped the shoulders of the two biggest Legionaries. “The barbarian is on the aft section. When we board, you charge directly for him. Get him off the boat and on the way to the Colonel. Don’t stop for anything. Once the barbarian is clear you talkers break off from the fire watches and escort the snatch team.”

  “There’s going to be Qart Hadasht sailors on that boat,” the one Legionary without an assignment pointed out. “And Lance Corporal Sisera, that leave only you and me to clear and hold the deck.”

  “I know, that’s why I picked you,” Alerio replied.

  “You picked me for a suicide mission?” the Legionary asked with pain in his voice.

  “Actually, I picked you because you were singing in the courtyard,” admitted Alerio. “I fancy a song when I fight. Think of a good song for us. Now, four to the front, the talkers in the rear with me. Everyone ready?”

  Four of the Legionaries reached out. They patted the singer on his shoulder armor as if to offer condolences. Next, they formed up.

  “Forward march,” Alerio ordered and the six Legionaries stepped off.

  At the first merchant ship, Alerio shoved a talker out of formation. The Legionary strolled towards the ship.

  “Yo, where do you hail from?” he asked as he walked up the ramp.

  “Beneventum,” replied the sailor on fire watch.

  “Where you there when King Pyrrhus attacked the city?” the Legionary inquired. “That was what, fifteen years ago?”

  “No. The Greek attacked closer to eight years ago,” the watch replied. “I was in the city when General Dentatus marched in victoriously after the battle.”

  “That must have been a sight,” the Private said as he sat beside the man. “Tell me about it.”

  The voices faded as Alerio and his team moved closer to the second merchant ship. A shove sent the next talker towards the ship’s ramp.

  “When do you sail?” asked the Legion Private.

  “Right after the Festival,” the fire watch replied. “My Captain and the other oarsmen went to it.”

  “And left you here to watch the ship?” asked the Legionary in surprise.

  “Yup, I’ve got the duty,” the sailor lamented his situation.

  “I know the feeling. My Centurion put me on guard duty,” the Legionary commiserated. “I really wanted to see the games and, you know, place a few bets.”

  “I too enjoy wagering a few coins on the games,” the sailor admitted.

  The talk of gambling faded as the remaining four Legionaries approached the pier where the Qart Hadasht launch was docked.

  “By twos, double time march,” Alerio ordered.

  The four picked up their pace until they reached the launch’s ramp. Then an arm slammed into the singer’s chest and he and Decanus Sisera stopped. The bigger men of the snatch team charged onto the boat.

  Their shields hit the Qart Hadasht fire watch who was standing on the ramp. He bounced off the shields, the edge of the ramp, and tumbled into the water. Another sailor sleeping on the deck got stomped unconscious as the two big Legionaries raced down one side of the ship.

  At the aft section, the barbarian sat up but was hammered down by one of the big shields.

  “It’ll be easier to carry him if he’s asleep,” advised one of the snatch team.

  “You carry and I’ll tie his hands,” the other suggested.

  So far, the snatch and grab had gone smoothly. Except, the boat rocked, the Legionaries’ hobnailed boots made the deck wood ring, and the fire watch in the water began to yell. All this caused the forward ladder to begin vomiting Qart Hadasht sailors. They came from below deck, half-dressed, and brandishing wicked knives and long heavy clubs.

  The Legionnaires noticed something odd about the sailors. Beyond being hunched over, their sloping shoulders went from huge arms and deltoids directly to their ears. They had no necks. As well, they didn’t shout. Rather they squawked and made grunting noises that rose from deep in their throats.

  “Trolls,” the Legionary beside Alerio whispered before shouting. “Troll! There are trolls guarding the Qart Hadasht boat.”

  Alerio set his shield down on the dock, reached over his shoulders, and unsheathed the two gladii.

  “Trolls or rowers, it doesn’t matter. As long as they bleed and die,” Alerio informed him. Then he suggested. “Now would be a good time to sing.”

  “Now Lance Corporal Sisera?” the Private asked with a quiver in his voice. “You want me to sing now?”

  Two of the odd sailor
s had reached the snatch team. The unencumbered Legionary used his shield to drive one into the deck. But, all the big shield did was shove the short but massive sailor back. He stabbed at the second sailor and despite drawing blood, his gladius was beat down by a club.

  The Legionary holding the barbarian defended his partner’s left side with his shield. As the sailors shoved and beat silently at the snatch team, Alerio took a step forward.

  “Sing now! Sing loud,” ordered Alerio as he ran across the ramp and leaped at the two Qart Hadasht sailors.

  Chapter 43 – Hold the Line Lads, Hold the Line

  Hold the Line Lads, Hold the Line,” the Legionary sang in a basso voice.

  Who are they? We shout.

  They’re in the valley to murder our families

  We’re here to kill, those homicidal savages

  Hold the Line Lads, Hold the Line.

  “Who is she? We shout

  A brown eyed girl looking for a rescuer

  You’re the right Legionary, to be her deliverer

  Hold the Line Lads, Hold the Line

  What if I die? We shout

  They’ll cut us down from left to right

  Second line up, fill the gaps and fight

  Hold the Line Lads, Hold the Line

  Know what I think? We shout

  In a melee brawl, it’s not political debate

  It’s gladius muscle, as Gods test your fate

  Hold the Line Lads, Hold the Line

  Why did I join? We shout

  Cause Sergeants care for you just like

  Your mommy did, on cold winter nights

  Hold the Line Lads, Hold the Line

  The bottoms of Alerio’s boots slammed into the hips on the pair of sailors. They were short and stocky yet the angle of collision bent them sideways. The two sailors blocking the snatch team flew across the deck. Alerio landed on his back. But not for long, he popped up and spun to face the rest of the advancing rowers. Suddenly, the two shields of the snatch team flanked him.

  “Don’t defend me,” he shouted. “Your only job is to get the barbarian to Colonel Nigellus. This is my job.”