Muted Implications (Clay Warrior Stories Book 12)

by J. Clifton Slater

  “We should go help Second Century,” the Centurion from the Third suggested.

  “Hold your line,” Alerio told him.

  Another flight of arrows dropped onto the Legion assault force.

  ***

  The ambushes were well planned and executed. Having Centuries patrolling the flanks saved the formation. But did nothing to lessen the visual impact or feeling of being pressed on three sides.

  “We should retreat to the warships,” a Legionary shouted

  The infantryman beside him asked, “should we run?”

  Fear caused more defeats than any bad formation. Like a disease, it would spread through the untested Centuries and break down unit cohesion. If Tribune Sisera did nothing to address the fear, he would face a stampede.

  Alerio ran angling across the assault line. He sprinted by the Centurion, grabbed the shoulder armor of the Tesserarius, and slung the NCO into the two frightened infantrymen.

  “Get up. Are you paid to lay around on the ground?” he asked the three Legionaries. Then to the assault line, he barked. “Form a fighting square.”

  “Shouldn’t we retreat?” a Centurion inquired.

  “If we abandon the battlefield,” Alerio questioned, “where will the survivors from the Second and Seventh go?”

  The young infantry officer glanced to the south then to the north.

  “Form a fighting square,” he called to the other Centurions. “Form a square on Tribune Sisera.”

  Two Centuries pivoted back until they created sides. Alerio marched up and positioned himself between them. Another Century walked backward and flowed around the Tribune. In good order, the Centuries created the four sides of a box.

  “Stand by javelins,” Alerio ordered.

  Chapter 37 – Assault on the Tribune

  Scattered across the field, the infantrymen of Seventh Century ran as individuals. Just beyond the tree line, two more Legionaries dropped to their knees. The spears jutting from their backs became obvious when they fell on their faces. At the sight of the dying men, Alerio wanted to beat Lolliginis with both fists. Putting his disappointment and anger away, he focused on the situation.

  “Centurion, throw javelins,” Alerio ordered the sixth Century’s officer. “Once a majority of the Seventh is close, break the attack.”

  “Yes, sir,” the Centurion responded. Moments later, he instructed. “Sixth, throw two.”

  The first flight of eighty javelins soared over the running Legionaries. While the iron tips drove barbarians to the dirt, the Sixth Century threw the second round of javelins.

  A third of the warriors from the forest dropped, pinned to the soil. The remaining barbarians changed direction. When the warriors from the forest broke for the stockage gate, the doors to the town swung open.

  “Centurion. Run them down,” Alerio told the officer of the Sixth, “and hold the gate.”

  The Century pivoted out by squads and, in columns of ten, sprinted after the retreating barbarians.

  With the attack from the north side diverted, Alerio spun to face the south.

  ***

  The Second Century’s shield wall bent back at each end. But it was understandable as the barbarians spread wide trying to get around the formation. While the Optio anchored one side, the Tesserarius fought and directed infantrymen on the other end. And the young officer remained in the center calling commands.

  “Step back, brace, advance,” Modus shouted. “Step back. Step back. Brace. Advance.”

  The retreating shields mixed with the short attacks kept the warriors off balance. Every time the barbarians gathered to attack, the Legion shields shot forward and the gladii bit into their warriors.

  “Centurion. Get Third Century out there and teach the barbarians respect,” Alerio commanded.

  “Yes, Tribune,” the officer acknowledged.

  With the gates open and warriors pouring through, Alerio decided to follow young Modus’ example. He would attack.

  “Fourth and Fifth Centuries, go help the Sixth hold the gate,” Alerio directed. “It wouldn’t hurt to take the town while you are there.”

  With the Centuries racing for the gates, Centurion Lolliginis stumbled up and saluted.

  “They came out of the deep woods,” he complained. “We didn’t have a chance.”

  “You had a chance,” Alerio scolded. “But those five legionaries on the ground didn’t. They didn’t because you were not in charge.”

  “But Tribune,” Lolliginis protested.

  The men of the Seventh came near the officers and dropped to the soil.

  “Get off the ground,” Alerio shouted. “Your brothers are fighting for the town and you are sitting? Get into to the fight.”

  Lolliginis led his infantrymen towards the stockade wall.

  ***

  With the Second bolstered by the Third, the Centuries formed two lines, straightened the ends, and reversed direction. Now, it was the Legionaries pressing forward and the barbarians scrambling back.

  It became a foot race when the warriors peeled away and ran for the crowded gateway. But the way was not clear. They ran into the tail end of the Seventh. Turning, the rear squads of the Century locked shields and fought.

  Alerio counted eighty barbarians. There were one hundred sixty Legionaries closing in from behind them and another forty on this side of the gate. Plus, there were three and a half Centuries inside the town.

  Tribune Sisera located an untrampled piece of grass. He plucked the stem, stuck it between his teeth, and strolled towards the contested gate.

  “I better be able to walk through unobstructed,” he teased.

  No one heard the staff officer. They were too busy defending against sharp blades while attempting to inflict damage of their own. He sauntered to give his Legionaries ample time to clear the gateway.

  ***

  “On your right, sir,” a voice warned. A heartbeat later, a second voice announced. “On your left, sir.”

  Then two columns of Legionaries rushed by him. Looking back, he noted Tribune Gracchus jogging up, keeping pace with his half of the maniple.

  “Tiberius, what’s going on?” Alerio asked the Tribune in charge of the other half of first maniple.

  “As soon as you formed your assault line,” the staff officer told Alerio, “Senior Tribune Quadruvii ordered my Centuries to dress up and unload.”

  “He could see I had the situation under control, didn’t he?” Alerio offered.

  “The Senior Tribune watched the entire attack from the port side of his warship,” Tiberius Gracchus confided in Alerio. “He sent me forward to be sure the town was secured.”

  Alerio glanced at the gateway. There were bodies of warriors and a few injured Legionaries, but other infantrymen were treating the wounds. The portal was clear as Gracchus’s Centuries jogged through unmolested.

  “Let’s go see the damage,” Alerio suggested.

  The Tribunes walked to the stockade wall and marched into Aleria.

  ***

  Aleria, Corsica consisted of structures of boards with thatched roofs. Commercial shops and craftsmen services were on one street and the others were residential. And the biggest structure in the town occupied a huge sector.

  “Grain storage,” Alerio identified the building for Tiberius.

  “Why set it in the middle of the town?” the other staff officer inquired.

  “To protect their harvest,” Alerio explained. “And from the size, I’d say their fields yield-per-acre is very good.”

  “Protection from what?” Tiberius asked.

  “From us,” Alerio replied, “or someone like us. Hungry, with a lot of mouths to feed.”

  Centurion Modus and two Legionaries marched a big Iberian into view.

  “Is he hungry or part of the town’s militia?” Tiberius questioned.

  Crunching on the gravel street behind the Tribunes announced the arrival of more hobnailed boots.

  “Let’s find out,” Senior Tribune Quadruvii
declared.

  He and a gaggle of Junior Tribunes marched by Alerio and Tiberius.

  “Who are you?” Quadruvii asked the barbarian.

  “Your worst nightmare, Republic pig,” the Iberian replied.

  The Senior Tribune’s hand jerked to his hip. He pulled his pugio and plunged the Legion dagger into the warrior’s neck.

  “We could have gotten intelligence from him, sir,” Alerio said.

  As if Tribune Sisera was not there and had not expressed an opinion, Quadruvii turned to Tiberius.

  “Question the population Tribune Gracchus,” the Senior Tribune instructed. Then he added. “Excellent job capturing the town. I’ll be sure to give you credit in my report.”

  The Senior Tribune and his entourage walked away.

  “Alerio, I had no idea he was going to do that,” Tiberius protested. “I could talk to him.”

  “He knows what I did,” Alerio responded. “And he doesn’t care. I have Legionaries to bury. You captured Aleria and you can have it.”

  Alerio marched for the gate. Along the way, he signaled for his Centuries to follow him.

  Behind the Fourth Century, Lolliginis rushed up and fell in step with Modus.

  “I told you the Senior Tribune hates Sisera,” the Centurion remarked. “That was great. Quadruvii might as well have cut off Sisera’s cōleī, tossed them into the dirt, and stomped on them.”

  Modus snapped his head sideways and stared at the other officer.

  “We did the fighting. We pulled victory out of a three-pronged ambush,” Modus scolded. “We suffered casualties and took the town. Now, the other half of our maniple gets the credit. What in the name of Discordia is great about that?”

  Once Modus mentioned the Goddess of Discord, he marched faster leaving the other Centurion in his wake.

  Chapter 38 – Undisputed Valor

  Two days later, the Republic fleet rolled their sails and the thirty warships rowed off the open water of the Tyrrhenian Sea. The low afternoon sun beamed across the Bay of Stagnolu, directly into the eyes of the deck officers and sailors.

  When the last of the Legion vessels entered the bay, one of the ship’s Centurions faced away from the sun to rest his eyes. Behind him, the arms of green land that formed the bay contrasted beautifully against the blue water of the sea. The peaceful scene resembled a fresco. Then, more vessels sailed into the bay. Except, they were not Republic ships and they did not come from the north.

  Five Qart Hadasht ships-of-war, probably destined for the town of Stabiacciu, entered the bay and saw the Republic fleet.

  What saved the outnumbered Carthaginian vessels was the position and momentum of the Legion squadrons. The Republic warships had rolled sails, dipped oars, and stroked hard into the center of the bay.

  The Empire vessels, on the other hand, were still under sail with their oars extended. Between the oarsmen and the wind, the ships-of-war carved hard U-turns.

  A Legion squadron rowed around and gave chase. But the head start, and lateness of the day caused the Republic ships to end the pursuit. They turned back for the bay, allowing the Empire ships-of-war to escape.

  ***

  While the fruitless chase transpired at sea, the rest of the fleet beached near the Stabiacciu River.

  “Tribune Sisera. Take a couple of your Centuries and secure the town,” Quadruvii ordered once the infantry had disembarked.

  Of the Thirty-Eight Centuries on the beach, including the twelve under his command, the Senior Tribune selected Tribune Sisera for the assignment.

  “Do I take Gracchus with me now,” Alerio questioned. “Or will you send him along later.”

  “I have no idea what you are getting at,” the Senior Tribune scoffed. “But if you care to quit your position, I’ll gladly take your letter of resignation.”

  “That will not be necessary, sir,” Alerio told him.

  Alerio stomped away from the staff officer’s area. He willed himself to be calm when he approached the campsites assigned to his Centuries.

  “Centurion Modus. Get them up and dressed,” Alerio instructed. “Three Centuries of the first maniple are going to town.”

  “Yes, Tribune,” the infantry officer responded. He walked the squad areas announcing. “Centuries Five and Seven, gear up and get on the trail. Officers’ meeting at Second Century.”

  In a Legion, the First Century protected the General and the Battle Commander. To accomplish the tasks, the First was composed of one hundred and twenty battle hardened veterans. Conversely, the Second Century was the end of the left side of the first maniple and had the least experienced infantrymen of the entire Legion. Alerio’s passing commands through Modus showed his confidence in Second Century’s young combat officer.

  While Optios and Tesserarii pushed and urged infantrymen into their armor, their officers gathered at Centurion Modus’ tent.

  “We have no intelligence on Stabiacciu,” Alerio warned. He began unstrapping his armored skirt. “Give me a squad to act as a forward unit.”

  “My fourth is flexible,” Modus volunteered, “and their Decanus, Rogatoris, is an excellent tracker.”

  Commanders always assigned important duties to people they trusted. Getting the job done took precedence over favoritism or feelings. Alerio was the choice of Quadruvii despite the Senior Tribune’s animosity. And Alerio noted that Modus offered his fourth as scouts rather than his first squad.

  “Rogatoris, we are going without shields,” Alerio directed the Decanus. “Do whatever you can to keep the squad light and fast.”

  “Yes, sir,” the squad leader responded.

  “What about our three Centuries, Tribune Sisera?” Centurion Lolliginis questioned. “What are we doing?”

  ***

  A mile from the beach, two Iberian officers strolled along the defensive wall of Stabiacciu.

  “We should barricade the gates,” the Iberian Lieutenant suggested.

  The commander of the Qart Hadasht garrison knew he faced a large force. Survivors from Aleria reported the military capabilities of the Legion. And runners from the beach delivered a count and a description of the infantry on the Roman warships. Unlike the dead officer at Aleria, the Major preferred direct action over complicated schemes.

  “Lieutenant, I want it short, sharp, and in their sides,” he declared. “But first, pack supply wagons and get them moving to the mountains.”

  “Are we abandoning Stabiacciu, Major?” the officer questioned.

  “We are,” the garrison commander confirmed. “After we hurt their Legionaries and remind their Consul that there is a price to pay for invading Empire territory.”

  ***

  Decanus Rogatoris had been part of last year’s offensive in Sicilia. Just the final weeks but, it was enough for him to claim a squad leader’s position and to have heard rumors about Tribune Sisera.

  “He is known as Death Caller,” one of fourth squad’s infantrymen stated.

  Tribune Sisera was yards ahead and moving fast through the trees.

  “I know and I don’t care,” Rogatoris shot back. “He is a staff officer. And if you want to ride the punishment post, talk louder so he can hear you.”

  “The Tribune is too far ahead to hear,” the Legionary offered. “Besides…”

  A forearm smashed into the infantryman’s chest and the man crumpled to the ground.

  “I thought you understood that quiet went with light and fast,” Alerio pointed out.

  “Sir, I was…”

  “Up ahead, the Qart Hadasht mercenaries have an ambush in place,” Alerio interrupted the squad leader. “Thankfully, they are louder than your squad.”

  Rogatoris nodded his head and fixed his mouth in a stern expression.

  “Don’t you think we should do something about it?” Alerio questioned after a few moments of staring.

  Rogatoris swallowed and nodded his head.

  “We should warn off the Centuries,” the squad leader offered.

  “But then the Ib
erians will scatter,” Alerio remarked. “What else?”

  “We could come in behind them,” Rogatoris responded. “And attack them from the rear when they move against the Centuries.”

  “I like the way you think,” Alerio told him. “Can we get into position silently?”

  “Yes, Tribune,” Rogatoris replied. “I’ll send a man to alert Centurion Modus.”

  After hand signs warning that an enemy was near, the squad leader and Tribune Sisera spoke to the runner. Then the eight remaining Legionaries of the fourth followed the staff officer and their Decanus deeper into the woods.

  ***

  Two hundred thirty-four Legionaries, armed and armored, were far from quiet. In the three-column formation gear rattled and, men talked as they made their way along the trail.

  “Centurion Modus,” the runner from the fourth squad warned. “There is an ambush on the right side of the trail. Tribune Sisera said don’t make the Iberian’s wait.”

  In response, the combat officer sent an Optio to alert Senior Tribune Quadruvii. Then, Modus called out a command, and the columns began moving forward in a Legion shuffle.

  At the fast jog, the columns became noisier.

  ***

  The mercenary scouts heard and saw the men at the heads of the columns. They were approaching so fast the Iberians had to sprint back to their main formation.

  Moments later, the junior officer heard about the approaching Legionaries and ran to consult with his commander.

  “They are coming, sir,” the Lieutenant alerted his superior.

  “Get the men ready,” the Major ordered.

  “Sir, we are scrambling to spring the ambush,” the Lieutenant insisted, “before the Legionaries race through our trap.”

  “Go back to your position and execute,” the senior officer instructed. “And Lieutenant, make it short and sharp. I’ll see you in the mountains.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  ***

  There were two factors separating the prepared moving columns from an attack line. Iberian mercenaries would learn them when they sprang their ambush.