Infinite Courage

by J. Clifton Slater

  Infinite Courage

  Clay Warrior Stories

  Book #8

  J. Clifton Slater

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. I am not a historian, although I do extensive research. For those who have studied the classical era and those with exceptional knowledge of the times, I apologize in advance.

  The large events in this tale are from history, while the dialogue and action sequences are my inventions. Some of the elements in the command and control of the Legions are from reverse engineering, the requirements necessary to carry a command from the General to a Legionary on the end of an assault line, fighting for his life. Hopefully, you’ll see the logic to my methods.

  I need to thank Hollis Jones who kept the story on track and grammatically correct with her red pen. Without her, the project would have wandered far from my plan. And my writer friends and support group who keeps me sane. You are much appreciated.

  Infinite Courage

  Act 1

  Consul Valerius Mesalla and Consul Otacilius Crassus formed Legions and marched on Sicily. While they didn’t participate in pitched battles with the Carthage Empire, their Legions fought many small battles. Each unique and all against some sixty odd cities and towns on the eastern half of the island. Welcome to 263 B.C.

  Chapter 1 – Licosa

  The sandals of thirteen handlers and hoofs of thirteen mules, loaded with fourteen tents, and fourteen sets of camp equipment, crunched on the stony beach. One of the pack animals and its handler marched with a Legionary at the front of the slow-moving caravan.

  “Why does Centurion Megellus want us to set up at Licosa?” Alerio Sisera pondered.

  “How would I know, Corporal?” the mule handler replied.

  “It’s a rhetorical question,” Alerio told the man. “It’s only twelve miles to Velia where Crassus Legions are training.”

  “Should we push on and join them?”

  “No, Grilli. We follow orders,” Alerio explained. The Legionary pulled out a goatskin map, identified a landmark, and called back to the lines of men. “Our campsite will be around the bend, on the other side of the villa, and just off the beach.”

  “Whose villa is that?” Grilli inquired.

  The house and compound had come into view far down the beach. As they approached, details became noticeable. A balcony on the second story overlooked the sea and the Villa’s compound was surrounded by a small unkept wall. Fallen stones from the wall and overgrown bushes and weeds showed the neglect of an absent owner.

  “I don’t know and it’s not marked on the map,” Alerio informed him. “It looks like a vacation estate. Somewhere for a nobleman to get away from a city or a landowner from his farm in the heat of summer. A place where he can enjoy the sea breezes.”

  “I’d like to have a summer villa,” announced Grilli. “Or a fishing boat. Or a farm.”

  “You have a job,” Alerio pointed out. “As do I. Let’s get to the site and set up the camp.”

  “This would be more fun if we were at Velia,” Grilli suggested. “There are more games and entertainment where the Legions are training.”

  “Grilli, this is the Legion,” Alerio corrected pointing back at the pack animals. “It’s not supposed to be fun.”

  “No offense Corporal but, the Legions are twelve miles further south,” the mule handler commented. “What you have here are tents and cooking utensils for a new, untested Century.”

  ***

  Alerio eyed the broad strip of flat land between the ocean and the toe of high hills to the east.

  “Grilli. Have the handlers drop the Centurion’s tent to the north and the squad’s in two rows,” Alerio instructed. He stood in an area close to the foothills using his hands to indicate the placement. “The NCOs’ tent goes on the south end.”

  “And the corral?” the mule handler inquired.

  “Put the mules south of the handler’s tents,” Alerio told him. “I don’t think the Optio would enjoy the aroma of mule. I know I wouldn’t.”

  “Speaking of aroma, where do you want the latrines?”

  “Beyond the corral,” Alerio advised. “I’ll have the Century build the practice field on the other side of the merda facilities.”

  Grilli dropped the reins for his mule and began directing the other handlers. Soon there were two rows of five tents between the large folded Centurion tent and the NCO tent. Four handlers began leveling the ground, spreading sand, and setting up the officer’s tent.

  From the mule with the Optio and Tesserarius’ equipment, Alerio extracted a coil of string on a stick, a hammer, and a stack of short stakes. After measuring out a length, he called Grilli over to take one end of the string.

  “We’ll align the camp off the Centurion’s tent,” he instructed the mule handler. “Pull it tight from the tent pole.”

  Alerio stretched the string so the 1st Squad’s tent rested far outside the centerline, spaced about two tent lengths away from the Centurion’s tent. This gave privacy to the infantry officer and allowed him to talk without being overheard. Alerio pounded in a stake then moved to the other side of the camp and positioned 2nd Squad’s tent.

  They stretched the string, measured distances, rotated between sides of the camp, and lined up eight more tents. At each tent’s location, Alerio tapped in a marker stake. On the south end, he pounded in a final stake for the NCOs’ tent.

  “This side is straight,” Alerio asserted as he wrapped the string around the stick. After strolling across the width of the camp, he peered at the line of five markers on the other side and announced. “We have an ordered Century area.”

  “I’ll have the handlers begin setting up the squad tents,” offered Grilli. Pointing at the ten bundles of tents laid in the center of the camp, he added. “After we level the ground.”

  “Clear the brush, level the earth, and get buckets of sand for the tent base,” Alerio directed. “Leave the tents where they are. I want each squad to erect their own tent.”

  “Part of the training, Corporal?” inquired the mule handler.

  “More evaluation of how the men work together,” Alerio corrected. “They should know how to set up a squad tent. Senator Maximus told me he was hiring experienced Legionaries when I was given this assignment.”

  ***

  Long after sunrise the next morning, a staggered line of thirty-two men appeared on the beach. They came from the north, sauntered into the center of the camp, and dropped their travel bags. After looking from the erected Centurion tent to the NCO tent at the far end and the rows of folded squad tents, their eyes locked on the mule handlers.

  “Why aren’t our tents set up?” one yelled down the length of the Century area. Beyond the NCO tent, a few mule handlers turned their heads to look at the newly arrived Legionaries. The rest remained sitting at their campfires. “Get over here and do your job. Or do you need a good beating to teach you your place?”

  From beside one of the fires, Grilli dipped his head in respect and lifted an arm to point eastward. Several Legionaries followed the direction of the arm. At the top of the high hill, they noted a man dressed in a loincloth with a gladius on his hip, wearing hobnailed boots.

  “Who in Hades is that cūlus?” a Legionary questioned.

  “No clue,” another responded.

  They watched as the man jumped from the crest, landed a body’s length downhill, and began tracking back and forth. As he descended, they could see he glistened with sweat obviously from earlier exercises. Muscles straining from the run, the half-dressed man arrived at the foot of the hill. There he transitioned to a march while crossing a square of level sand the mule handlers had prepared for a squad tent.

  “Goo
d morning, Legionaries,” Alerio greeted the group. He snatched a woolen shirt from the top of a folded tent, wiped off the sweat, and slid on the garment. Before it fell over his head, the Legionaries noticed his battle scars. “We’re going with a contubernium, eight men to a squad.”

  “I’ve brought my own ten-man squad,” the Legionary who threatened the mule handlers stated. “Who are you?”

  “Corporal Sisera. Eight heavy infantrymen to a squad. Now, I’d suggest you set up your tents.”

  “I was supposed to be the Tesserarius,” the Legionary challenged. “Optio Gustavi said it when I signed up with the Century.”

  Alerio looked over his shoulder at the NCO tent, then faced front and peered around the gathered Legionaries in the direction of the Centurion’s tent.

  “Nope. No Sergeant or officer to adjudicate your claim,” Alerio commented. “How about you show some leadership and get your squad’s tent set up? Eight men per, as this is a marching camp and, not garrison duty.”

  The Legionaries broke off and began erecting the first two tents on either side. Alerio watched from the center of the camp without saying a word. When they were finished, he wandered between tents checking the tautness of the guylines. At the complaining Legionary’s tent, Alerio pulled on the lines, walked to the other side, and tested those.

  Then the Corporal stood at one corner and looked down the front of the tent trying to see the next tent and the markers for the rest of the row.

  “You seem to have an issue,” Alerio mentioned while lifting an arm and holding it against the front flap. “Your tent is off the line.”

  “Who cares, this is a training camp. We’re not even with the Legions,” the Legionary offered. “Besides, there wasn’t a marker.”

  “That does present a problem,” Alerio responded.

  Drawing his gladius, Alerio vanished around the side of the tent. When he reappeared, the tent was collapsing. The reason soon became apparent. With his blade, the Corporal also sliced the guylines on the other side and the entire structure fell. With his foot, Alerio kicked back a section of the goatskin material. Under the fold, he discovered a marker stake laying on its side and half buried in the sandy base.

  “There’s the issue. Someone stepped on 1st Squad’s marker,” the Corporal announced. He pulled out a piece of parchment and a nub of charcoal. While making a notation, he informed the Legionary. “I’ll get your squad new ropes. But let’s be sure the tent is on the line.”

  “What are you writing down?”

  “The cost of new ropes,” Alerio informed the squad leader. “Your squad will be charged for the resupply.”

  “It was you who cut the lines,” the Legionary bellowed while stepping forward and placing a hand on the hilt of his knife. “If anyone should pay, it’s you.”

  In two steps, Alerio stood nose to nose with the infantryman. When the Legionary attempted to pull his knife, the Corporal slapped his hand on the man’s knuckles, preventing him from drawing the blade.

  “What’s your name?” Alerio questioned.

  “Horatius Ostrei.”

  “We are going to have weapons training Decanus Horatius Ostrei. A lot of weapons training,” Alerio promised with a wicked smile. “And I can assure you Lance Corporal Ostrei, you’ll have plenty of opportunities to show me your skills. For now, I suggest you get your tent set up.”

  Horatius hesitated then glanced around. All thirty-one Legionaries and the mule handlers stood waiting to see the outcome of the confrontation.

  “Fine,” Horatius growled while attempting to step away.

  But the Corporal’s palm shifted from the back of Ostrei’s hand and gripped the Legionary’s wrist.

  “Try that again,” Alerio ordered.

  Horatius Ostrei’s body shook with rage and he started to verbally challenge the Tesserarius. Just before he exploded, he caught the smile on the NCOs’ face and noticed the joy in the man’s eyes at the expectation of an outburst of violence. Ostrei had served five years in the Northern Legion and he recognized the signs. He was being goaded into a fight. An engagement where he could be embarrassed in front of the other Legionaries.

  “If you’re finished, Corporal Sisera?” Horatius uttered. “I’ll help the squad set up the tent.”

  “On the line, Lance Corporal Ostrei,” Alerio reminded him while releasing the wrist. Then in the direction of the mule handlers, he shouted. “Grilli. I need new guylines.”

  Grilli already held the ropes in his hand. Everyone in the camp had watched the exchange with interest and different emotions. Some were amused at the audacity of the Corporal cutting the lines then charging the squad for the loss. Others were angry for the same reason. While suppressing a smile, the mule handler jogged to Tesserarius Sisera and delivered the new ropes.

  ***

  Early in the afternoon, thirty-two more Legionaries made it to the camp. They were a little taller and fairer of skin and hair than the first group. Alerio recognized them but a Legionary in 3rd Squad vocalized it.

  “Samnites,” he exclaimed. “I didn’t know they let tribesmen in the heavy infantry.”

  “The southern tribes are citizens. Don’t be fatuus,” a squad mate chastised him.

  “I’m not simple. I’m just surprised,” he responded.

  Alerio met the new Legionaries. After a short greeting, he stood and watched them set up the next four tents. All went up correctly giving the Corporal no cause for worry about their skills. What did worry him, the squads who arrived earlier ignored and, some turned their backs on the Samnites.

  After witnessing the tension between Latians and the mountain Samnites, Alerio made a note to not have the two groups skirmish. At least not until he knew the men better.

  The shadows were long and the orange ball of the sun floated a finger’s width from the horizon when the last sixteen Legionaries appeared on the beach. They were Latian but their clothing and slumped postures displayed a downtrodden lifestyle. Several of them lugged heavy leather bags displaying bulges where flat and rounded objects inside pressed against the material.

  He greeted the late arriving Legionaries, as he did the other groups, and set them to erecting their quarters. While they were setting up the final two tents, Alerio had to step in and issue corrections and instructions. Every Century had its weaker squads and the Corporal had just met his.

  The sun sank into the ocean and night fell on the Century. Corporal Sisera looked over his campfire at the flames burning in the camps of the ten squads. Beyond the squads, the dark and empty Centurion’s tent vanished in the fading light.

  With no officer or Sergeant, Alerio had a decision to make. Set his own training schedule and get started on bringing the Century to fighting form, or allow the Legionaries to lounge around until the Century’s Optio and Centurion arrived.

  Chapter 2 – Resistance in the Ranks

  A pink haze brightened the eastern sky announcing the coming sunrise. In the dark, Alerio tossed back the flap, stepped from the NCO tent, and shouted.

  “Maximus Century! Get up, get out, and get on the parade ground,” the Corporal called. He repeated the order while strolling down the center of the area. At the end, near the Centurion’s tent, he turned about and added. “You will get your swinging mentulas out of those tents, or I will burn them down.”

  The first squads to emerge from their tents were the Samnites. After them, a few more Legionaries came out and stood in front of their tents.

  “Lance Corporal Ostrei. Is 1st Squad too busy having an amor fest?” Alerio demanded. “I suggest ending the warm embraces. Get your people on the parade ground.”

  Laughter came from the 2nd and 3rd Squads as they surged from their tents. Most of the Legionaries were in front of their tents when Ostrei and 1st Squad came slowly from theirs. It was obvious by the swagger that the delay was intentional.

  “Columns of twos, on me,” Alerio instructed. Once two lines of forty Legionaries formed and faced the Corporal. “Turnabout. Decanus Ost
rei. 1st Squad has the rear. Century, standby.”

  Forty feet stomped but the halting reply of ‘standing by, Corporal’ was weak.

  “Let’s try this again,” Alerio shouted while walking beside the formation. “For every sad response, I’m adding another hill to the run. Century, stand by.”

  “Standing by, Corporal,” came the response with more enthusiasm.

  Alerio began jogging to the front but stopped beside a Samnite. In the weak light, he noted the Legionary had reached out and shoved four men back into ranks.

  “Name?” he demanded.

  “Telesia Caudini,” the tall Samnite replied. “I guess with 5th Squad, based on the tent’s location.”

  “Lance Corporal Caudini,” Alerio said acknowledging Caudini as the tent commander and Decanus for 5th Squad. “Pull your contubernium out and take the lead.”

  “Yes, Tesserarius.”

  When the eight Legionaries were positioned at the head of the columns, Alerio stopped by the 9th and 10th Squads.

  “If at the end of this run, you are anywhere except right behind those eight, I’ll make the next week the worst seven days of your life.”

  “Yes, Corporal,” the men in the two contuberniums replied.

  “Century, forward march,” Alerio called. “Decanus Caudini, follow the beach.”

  The Century filed between the NCO’s and the 10th Squad’s tent. Soon, eighty hobnailed boots crunched gravel and sand as the Legionaries marched along the shoreline. Alerio trotted to the front and explained the route to Telesia Caudini.

  ***

  Based on Alerio’s pacing the day before, they had covered about seven miles. When Telesia Caudini and 5th Squad started down a steep flume, Alerio ran ahead, climbed the embankment, and dropped into the neighboring gorge. In front of him, Horatius Ostrei and 1st Squad pushed lagging Legionaries up the incline.

  “Lance Corporal Ostrei. Isn’t this great,” Alerio said from directly behind the squad leader. “I could do the grind all day.”