Clay Warrior Stories Boxset 1

by J. Clifton Slater

  Lupus was driven forward two steps before he could regain control. Turning, he faced Alerio with his gladius in the guard position.

  “Now, we’ll fight properly,” the infantryman growled between clinched teeth.

  “First off, Private Lupus, I want to thank you for volunteering,” Alerio complimented as he raised his blade. “You see, there is nothing to correct if there is no mistake.”

  “Your mistake, gladius instructor, was in facing off against me,” Lupus spit back.

  The blades touched for half a heartbeat. Before Lupus could set for his first attack, Alerio’s blade twirled around his blade. In effect, it created a tunnel of spinning steel locking both blades in place. Lupus pulled back his blade trying to extract it. As his gladius withdrew, Alerio’s blade jutted forward until the tip rested gently against Lupus’ throat.

  “Get back in the ranks, Private Lupus,” warned Alerio. “Unless you prefer to bleed for your pride.”

  Lupus smiled and nodded his head as he sheathed his gladius.

  “Thank you for the lesson, instructor,” the Private said as he backed cautiously away from the steel tip of Alerio’s gladius.

  “Enemies of the Republic come from many tribes,” Alerio informed the assembled infantrymen. “They may have simple primitive weapons, but remember this, it’s their primary weapon. If you stray from your training and attack the weapon instead of staying with proven gladius techniques, you may end up dead. Do you follow me?”

  “Yes, instructor,” forty voices shouted back. Loudest among them was that of Private Lupus.

  “Draw!” ordered Decanus Sisera.

  He began walking between the ranks adjusting arm or leg positions. Once Alerio was satisfied, he had them pair off and begin gladius drills. Tesserarius Cephas rolled up the scroll and joined him.

  “That was dangerous, going against a gladius with a stick,” commented the Corporal.

  “It only works one time,” admitted Alerio. “After the demonstration, they’ll know to stay with the basics. Lupus could have easily deflected my stick at any time. Instead, he lost focus and his attitude deteriorated.”

  “In your final analysis then, it is about attitude,” ventured Cephas.

  “After a certain skill level,” explained Alerio. “Attitude is everything in a sword fight.”

  Chapter 26 – Over Confidence Kills

  Most of the Legionaries were running sprints under the watchful eye of their Corporal. A few were off to the side with Alerio for additional gladius instruction. Although it was still early, the sun was climbing and it looked to be a beautiful day.

  Alerio finished and sent the infantrymen back to their squads to join in the sprints. As the men raced back and forth, Alerio strolled to the edges of the garrison and peered down into the valleys. The side of the hill with the river he looked down on mud flats and brown water. On the other side of the Legion hill, farms dotted the landscape between crops of trees. He could tell the farmers were poor as none had oxen or horses to pull the plows. With a brother, son, or wife guiding the plows from behind, the farmers were harnessed up front so they could pull.

  ‘It’s a hard life,’ he thought remembering his childhood and his father’s farm. Then he glanced at the infantrymen who were sweating and sucking in great lungsful of air. ‘Life is hard everywhere.’

  Suddenly, the trumpet interrupted the sounds of men grumbling and breathing deeply. From atop the lookout stand, it blared out three long notes followed by two notes. Then, the trumpeter repeated the call.

  “Second and Third Squads,” shouted Cephas. “Grab your helmets, minimum armor, and shields. Take boat two. First and Fourth, full kit, cover the choke points. Move it, people.”

  “What’s up Corporal?” asked Alerio once he’d covered the distance from the thorn bush wall to where Cephas stood.

  “Three notes signify pirate or enemy warship activity off our coast,” explained the Corporal. “Two means a merchant vessel is inbound. By repeating them, we know the ships are in contact or soon will be. I’m heading up to the lookout. Care to join me?”

  “If it’s all right with you, I’d like to go out with the patrol boat,” Alerio requested.

  “Get your helmet but leave your armor. You can strip off a helmet and shoulder armor and swim. With the side armor, you won’t have time and you’ll sink like a rock,” advised Cephas. “Forget a shield, you wouldn’t need it. Besides, this should be over quickly.”

  Alerio sprinted for his quarters. Once in his room he pulled on the shoulder armor and snatched up the helmet, then he paused. Draped over a peg on the wall was his dual gladius rig. He unstrapped his single gladius belt and placed it on the peg. As he rushed out of his room, he began tying the straps to secure the dual sheaths.

  ***

  On the river side of the hill, Third Squad was queued up behind the remainders of Second Squad. The rest of the infantrymen were making their way down narrow plank walkways that doubled back three times before reaching a riverside pier. Two patrol boats lay at the dock.

  Boat handlers had one boat untied and stood holding its lines. In the boat, another one sat at the rear. Before Alerio made it to the bottom of the walkways, the first Legionaries down snatched oars from a rack. They boarded the boat, placed their shields on the gunwale, and secured their oars in the oarlocks. Others filed onto the boat and repeated the activity. Alerio grabbed an oar as he passed by the rack.

  The patrol boat had places for thirty rowers. Second and Third Squads manned twenty of them. The two boat handlers pushed off and jumped in adding two more rowers. It left the boat underpowered by eight rowers. When Alerio placed his oar in a notch, the boat was only seven rowers short of the maximum.

  After a hard shove, the boat drifted away from the dock.

  “Stroke, stroke, stroke,” the helmsman called setting a steady pace.

  Soon the patrol boat left the river and ventured into the open sea. Alerio peered over the aft section as he rowed.

  “I can’t see any ships,” he said to the Legionary in front of him.

  “No one in this boat can,” the man replied with a turn of his head. “Look back at Bovesia. We’re taking directions from the overlook.”

  Alerio twisted his head around and after being confused by the sameness of the shoreline, he located the town and the over-watch stand. A distant figure on the stand waved flags directing the patrol boat towards the unseen merchant and the warship.

  They maintained the stroke rate until the beach and the first two levels of Bovesia vanished below the horizon. By then, the upper hull of a merchant vessel appeared. The helmsman angled the patrol boat to intercept the ship. As they drew closer, Alerio recognized the merchant vessel. He studied the rear deck as they drew closer, looking for Captain Hadrian at the rear oar.

  “Hold water,” directed the helmsman.

  The patrol boat slowed and began to drift as the oar blades stayed motionless in the water. A sailor on the merchant vessel waved at the patrol boat and tossed down a line.

  “Merchant. Are you in danger?” shouted Second Squad’s Decanus.

  “We’re running from a pirate,” the man called back. “It’s just over the horizon.”

  “Private Lupus, take half a squad and show your shields,” the Second Squad’s leader ordered.

  An odd feeling rolled through Alerio’s chest. Something was wrong with this situation. He turned to the Third Squad’s leader.

  “Only five Legionaries to repel pirates?” he asked.

  “We do this about every three weeks,” the Lance Corporal replied. “Pirates chase a merchant. We row out, show some Legion muscle, and the pirates row away. We’ll be heading for shore in a little while. Although…”

  “Although what?” inquired Alerio.

  “We’re usually not this far out,” the squad leader said while glancing in the direction of the invisible shoreline.

  Thoughts screamed in Alerio’s mind as Lupus and the four members of his squad gripped the ra
il of the merchant vessel. Unbalanced in the rocking patrol boat, they waited for a wave to lift them and reduce the six feet difference between the transport and the patrol boat. They wobbled and waited to scramble over the rail and onto the merchant ship. The troublesome ideas solidified when Captain Hadrian appeared on the foredeck.

  It wasn’t that the Captain looked out of place that far forward. Or, that the commander of a ship held his hands behind his back, and watched silently as Legionaries prepared to board his vessel. Or, that the sail wasn’t unfurled when the merchant was supposed to be running from a pirate ship. All of these were clues. It was the gladius strapped to Hadrian’s hip that brought the ideas together.

  “Ambush,” cried out Alerio as he stood from the rowing bench. He reached over his shoulders while running down the center of the patrol boat. Drawing the gladii, he repeated, “Ambush!”

  At the raised curved bow of the patrol boat, he planted a foot, and launched himself sideways. The jump carried him over the gap and he landed, although wobbly, on the high rails of the transport. For half a heartbeat, he teetered on the gunwale.

  A missed timed wave would have thrown him into the gap between the boats. But, the fates wanted to see a fight so the merchant ship rolled to its port side. Alerio was pitched into the air. Before landing on Hadrian’s ship, he caught a bird’s eye view of the cargo boards.

  The cargo of amphorae were gone; replaced by ten Illyrians Pirates. Five were laying below the rail holding their long curved sicas ready to cut the throat of any infantryman attempting to board. The other five held bows in one hand and a handful of arrows in the other. Alerio crashed to his knees on the deck between the two groups.

  Most fights were decided in the first three heartbeats of a conflict. The Illyrians, shocked by the sudden arrival of Alerio, squandered the first heartbeat. He didn’t. Two of the pirates at the rail rolled away with deep slashes in their backs. On the second heartbeat, the Illyrians responded.

  Alerio felt a burning in the side of his thigh. Despite the high angle of the arrow jutting from his leg, he stayed focused on the knife welding men. They were the bottle neck for reinforcements and the key to winning this battle. It’s almost impossible for a man laying down to fight a standing man. Even when the upright fighter had to limp over to make the kill.

  Three of the pirates were out of the fight when the next arrow pierced Alerio’s side. In frustration and pain, he screamed, acknowledging Algea, the Goddess of agony. He so wanted to turn and slaughter the bowmen, but there were still two knifemen at the railing.

  They cast glances at the Legionary carrying two gladii, but he was struggling to shake off the shock of being impaled by two arrows. Their job was to kill infantrymen as they boarded so they ignored him. The one behind them was the archer's concern.

  Alerio fought off the haze that clouded his mind and limped forward towards the pirates. An arrow appeared in the deck in front of him. It came from between his legs. The archers were on their feet and Alerio expected their next arrows would be more accurate. Still, he closed the distance between him and the pirates at the railing.

  On the third heartbeat, a shield came over the railing. Powered by a vaulting Private Lupus, it smashed into a pirate.

  “Shield him,” Lupus screamed as he plunged his gladius into the off balanced pirate’s chest.

  Two more Legionaries came over the rail. One joined Lupus as he stalked the final knifeman. The other placed his shield between Alerio and the archers.

  When the fourth Legionary hit the deck, Lupus ordered, “Battle line.”

  As the fifth pirate from the rail fell from slashes to his face and torso, the five infantrymen linked shields.

  “Advance. Advance. Advance!” shouted Lupus.

  At first, the shields were thrust forward meeting empty air, and the gladii followed also striking nothing. On the third advance, the five Illyrian archers were hammered back against the port side rail. Trapped between the retreating shields and the limit of the vessel, they had no place to go when the blades came. The infantrymen carved into their flesh and all five archers were dead by the time they sank to the deck.

  Alerio smiled as the archers died then his face contorted as his thigh cramped up and the pain in his side doubled him over. He crumpled to the deck.

  Chapter 27 – Win the Battle, Lose the War

  Alerio looked up to see Private Lupus and Second Squad’s Lance Corporal standing over him. The stench of burning flesh clogged his nostrils. He winced as someone tightened a cloth around his leg.

  “We cauterized your wounds after removing the arrows,” the Decanus informed him. “It’ll leave scars but we don’t have anyone who can sew skin.”

  “When does your class on committing suicide begin, gladius instructor?” Lupus inquired. “Because I am going to request latrine duty that day.”

  “Nobody sane requests latrine duty,” replied Alerio.

  “Nobody sane attacks a ship load of pirates, alone,” Lupus offered.

  “I didn’t know there were that many,” admitted Alerio.

  “How many is the proper number?” questioned Lupus. “I’m just trying to gage what level of madness you’d entertain.”

  Second Squad’s Lance Corporal interrupted them. “Can you stand?” asked the Decanus.

  “I can make it to the patrol boat,” Alerio assured him.

  “That’s not going to happen,” the Lance Corporal informed Alerio. “I mean; can you hold a shield? We have an Illyrian bireme baring down on us and I don’t think they’ll be happy with the way you interfered with their ambush.”

  “I can hold a shield,” Alerio ventured as he placed a hand on the deck and pushed to a sitting position. After pausing to let the spasms of pain fade, he added. “If someone can give me a hand up?”

  Once on his feet, Alerio looked around for Hadrian. He located the merchant ship’s captain sitting between two Legionaries. Both had their blades out.

  “Lance Corporal. Why is the merchant captain under guard?” Alerio asked.

  “He was armed and I figured he was part of the ambush,” replied the squad leader.

  “Pull the gladius and you’ll see he was barely armed,” Alerio stated. “If not for him wearing the sheath, I wouldn’t have known about the Illyrians.”

  “Are you sure?” the Lance Corporal challenged.

  “Absolutely. Besides, if we’re going to have a sea battle,” suggested Alerio looking out at the approaching bireme. “We might as well have an experienced sea captain at the helm.”

  The guards acknowledged the squad leader’s signal and went to join their squads. Hadrian stood and walked to Alerio.

  “The Illyrians asked, after killing three of my men, what I’d wear into battle,” the merchant explained. “I told them my gladius. They never checked the blade.”

  “I’m glad you did,” Alerio confirmed. “Any recommendations about the bireme?”

  “We can’t out run him but my ship is doubled hulled. He can’t ram us without getting stuck. By the time he frees himself, we can be far away in the patrol boat,” Hadrian proposed. “The tide is coming in. If we get movement towards the beach and move into shallower water, we’ll at least limit which side they attack from.”

  “How would that work?” asked Third Squad’s Lance Corporal.

  “They need deep water to circle us,” Hadrian explained. “Without depth or the knowledge of Bova beach, they’ll fear running aground. So, they’ll be forced to come along side us. We’ll dictate which side by turning the other side to the shoreline. But we need to move and move now.”

  Ten Legionaries manned the patrol boat and four others rowed the merchant vessel. Lashed together, they were able to row and tow the transport closer to shore. When the squad leaders could make out individual faces on the Illyrian bireme, they had the patrol boat tow the transport sideways to the beach.

  “A strong swimmer could make it,” Lupus announced when he climbed from the patrol boat. “If he avoided the sh
arks and the Illyrian arrows.”

  Alerio looked away from the approaching warship and back at the shoreline of Bovesia. From this distance, he could see the beach, the steps, and the shields of Legionaries at the second level. Features on faces were blurred by distance, so it looked closer than it was. He started to disagree with Lupus.

  “Shields up and form on line,” a squad leader directed. “If they start with arrows, we don’t want another Lance Corporal Sisera. Keep the shields tight.”

  If Alerio felt better, he would have resented the squad leader using him as an example of a mistake. As it was, he was using all his strength just to stand stooped over. There wasn’t energy left for feelings.

  Four infantrymen grouped on the raised platform shielded Hadrian and the rear oar. They fully covered that ten feet of the transport. The other eighteen Legionaries stood on the cargo boards along the port side rail. Between the height of the side boards and the shields, they presented a strong face to the approaching Illyrians.

  “Where do you want me, Lance Corporal?” Alerio asked the squad leader.

  “My shield and the other squad leader’s shield are with the boat handlers,” he replied. “That leaves one infantryman and us to replace any injured. You’re the forth replacement. If it comes to that, pick up a shield and stand in line. Until then, try not to attract any more arrowheads.”

  The Lance Corporal walked away, no doubt to encourage his men, and Alerio looked around to see where he should go to get out of the way. He noticed Hadrian. The captain was waving to get his attention. Despite the pain, Alerio limped to the ladder and climbed to the platform.

  “Captain. What can I do for you?” Alerio asked while holding his side.

  There was no blood thanks to the hot iron poker, but there was pain. The agony distributed between the entrance and exit holes and the placement of the wounds in his thigh and his side. He chose to hold his side, because holding the thigh required him to bend and that aggravated his side.