Brutal Diplomacy
Clay Warrior Stories
J. Clifton Slater
Books by J. Clifton Slater
Military Adventure both Future & Ancient
Clay Warrior Stories
Clay Legionary
Spilled Blood
Bloody Water
Reluctant Siege
Brutal Diplomacy
Galactic Council Realm
On Station
On Duty
On Guard
On Point
This is a work of fiction. While some characters are historical figures, the majority are fictional. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
Brutal Diplomacy takes place in late 264 B.C. when Rome was a Republic and before the Imperial Roman Empire conquered the world. While I have attempted to stay true to the era, I am not an historian. If you are a true aficionado of the times, I apologize in advance.
I’d like to thank my editor Hollis Jones for her work in correcting my sentences and keeping me on track.
Now… Forget your car, your television, your computer and smart phone - it’s time to journey back to when making clay bricks and steel were the height of technology.
J. Clifton Slater
E-Mail: [email protected]
Twitter: @GalacticCRealm
FB: facebook.com/Galactic Council Realm & Clay Warrior Stories
Brutal Diplomacy
Flash point Messina, 264 B.C.
The Empire of Carthage (Qart Hadasht) - manipulative and arrogant, the only diplomacy Carthage understood was their way or the tip of a spear.
The Republic of Rome - direct and efficient, the only way Rome could get vicious enemies to sign peace treaties was brutal pacification.
The Kingdom of Syracuse – economic power on the southern tip of the island of Sicily. Grown tired of raids on his inland cities and on his merchant ships at sea by the Sons of Mars, King Hiero II threatened retaliation on the residents of Messina.
The Mamertines (Sons of Mars) - pirate rulers of Messina and the harbor. A nonentity in the power struggle for Sicily (Sicilia) until they broke faith with Syracuse. Their call for help against King Hiero II caused the Republic and the Empire to clash. The conflict started the first Punic War.
Brutal Diplomacy is far from a scholarly work. This is an adventure story. Although some of the characters were real people, the settings as close as my research allowed, and the action follows historical events, the story is fiction.
Act 1
Chapter – 1 Gladiator Games
The Insubri warrior’s sword slashed towards the Legionary’s torso. Jerking back saved the Legionary as the steel tip miss his bare chest and hip by inches. As the sword dropped below waist level, the Legionary surged forward crowding inside the barbarian’s guard. The hilt of the gladius slammed into the solar plexus of the Insubri. The warrior bent, collapsing around the pain. With his face screwed up in agony, and his mouth open to grunt from the blow, the northern tribesman attempted to shuffle back. But his attempt at putting a safe distance from him and the Republic’s fighter failed.
Driving with his right leg, the Legionary propelled his body forward while raising his left knee. It smacked into the forehead of the retreating barbarian. The hard bone of the patella impacted the barbarian’s head as loudly as a hand clap. When his head snapped back, the movement exposed the Insubri’s throat. Instead of using the Legion short sword, the Legionary lashed out with his left fist and tapped the Adam’s Apple of the tribesman.
Gasping to pull air through his windpipe as he rocked back and over, the Insubri smacked his head and shoulders into the sand. Semiconscious, he lay staring at the sky with glassy eyes while choking.
“Very impressive,” commented Senator Spurius Maximus. He let his eyes run over the two other warriors recovering from bouts with the Legionary. “Can they win?”
It was a weighted question. The Legionary could train the northern slaves with the aim of them winning. There was no doubt he would teach them, because nobody refused the powerful Senator, especially, not a lowly Lance Corporal. After that, the winning was up to the individual Insubri warrior.
“General Maximus. They’re experienced fighters. And, all three have good and bad habits. I can enhance the good and tamp down the other, maybe,” replied Alerio Sisera using the Senator’s preferred term of address. When two of Maximus’ house guards roughly jerked the choking Insubri to his feet, Alerio warned them, “Break the merchandise and you’ll take his place on the training sand and at the funeral games.”
The guards had witnessed the three large and muscular barbarians fall, unbloodied, to the armed weapon’s instructor. Neither wanted to fight the Lance Corporal or fight in the death matches of the games. They loosened their grips and slowed down as they dragged the warrior over to a bench. There, they deposited the warrior beside the instructor’s other groggy students.
“If these aren’t adequate, I’ll go buy three more,” General Maximus declared. “Flaccus sent back sixty from each tribe when he shipped back the spoils from Volsinii. As enthusiastic as our Consul is, I’m surprised he stripped the town before razing it to the ground. You were there, weren’t you?”
“No, sir. I was in Volsinii with General Fabius Gurges’ Legion,” explained Alerio. “I missed General Flaccus’ campaign. When he marched north, the Legion sent me to Sicilia.”
“Oh, that quagmire,” Senator Maximus moaned. “Between Syracuse, the Qart Hadasht Empire, and those accursed Sons of Mars in Messina, we should just beef up our Southern Legion. Let them wear each other out. Now, about those replacement Insubri?”
“These will do, General,” exclaimed Alerio. “But they were starved during the march to the Capital. If you want them to have a chance against the Etruscans, they’ll need to be fed.”
“It’ll be worth the price of the rations to take Consul Codex’s coins and put him in his place,” Senator Maximus stated. “What else do you need?”
“Time for them to strengthen up,” Alerio said. “And time for me to teach them.”
“Junius Brutus Pera lies in state until tomorrow and the funeral games are two days after that,” replied Maximus. “You’ve got three days to work your Legion magic on the barbarians. Don’t let me down.”
As the Senator strutted towards his Villa, Alerio called the four house guards over.
“Did you serve in a Legion?” he asked. All four confirmed they had and he continued. “I saw good men run down by Insubri cavalry. And more butchered by the Etruscans warriors. I don’t hold any love in my heart for either tribe. But General Maximus wants victory. When you’re tempted to mistreat or short ration those three, remember this…”
Alerio pointed to the three warriors slumped on the bench.
“Across the city, three Etruscans are being fed, watered and trained,” the Lance Corporal explained. “Forget they’re enemies of the Republic. Think of them as prized, and yes dangerous, race horses. Guard them, care for them, and during the games, bet your coins on them. Do that and they’ll kill three Etruscans for us. And, you’ll make a profit.”
“You really think they can win?” one of the house guards asked. “The Etruscans are being trained by Corporal Daedalus of the city guard. He’s a great swordsman. I saw him destroy every opponent in the harvest games last year.”
Alerio turned so his right shoulder faced the guards displaying a row of scars. Then, he reached across his chest and traced the two lines on his shoulder cap with the tips of two fingers.
“See these scars? Corporal Daedalus tattooed them on me,” Alerio informed them. The faces of the house guards fell as they peered at the marks left by Daedalus’ gladius. “Yes, he stabbed me. Just bef
ore I beat in his helmet and knocked him out. If the marshal hadn’t pulled me off, I’d have killed him. You see, I was upset at him for marring my perfect skin.”
The house guards studied the crescent shaped scar on the Legionary’s head, the line on the back of one arm, the scars on his forearms, the top of one hand, and on his right hip. All from blade attacks. Then, there were the sunken holes in his thigh and side from where arrows passed through the muscle and flesh.
“Excuse me,” one of the guards expressed his puzzlement. “I don’t understand what you mean? No offence Lance Corporal but, your skin is far from perfect. You’ve got battle scars.”
The other three guards groaned.
“What he means is, he’s better than Daedalus,” another guard explained.
“Oh, then why didn’t he say so in the first place?” asked the confused guard.
“Weapon’s instructor, the Insubri will be well cared for,” another guard promised ignoring the thick-headed guard. “When do you want to start the training?”
“Feed and water them and let them rest tonight,” answered Alerio as he slipped a tunic over his head. “I’ll be back before dawn.”
Alerio left the sand pit area, crossed the Senator’s manicured lawn and took the clay brick path around the Villa.
Once past the front gate, he paused to bow respectfully to the statue of Bia, one of Jupiter’s winged enforcers. After a silent prayer thanking her for his bodily strength, Alerio turned south and headed for the Chronicles Humanum Inn.
Chapter 2 – Tangled Up in Politics
The great room of the Inn held a full complement of junior officers, senior NCOs and a few lady friends. Every table was full of food and drink. Two waitresses scrambled to keep the customers happy. Behind the granite counter, Thomasious Harricus busily filled mugs with vino.
“Give me a mug of wine, Master Harricus,” Alerio ordered as he approached the innkeeper. “I’m heading for the baths.”
“I’m curious to know what Senator Spurius Maximus wanted with you,” Thomasious replied as he slid a mug across the granite top. “But as you can see, my establishment is at capacity.”
“Where did all the Legionaries come from?” Alerio asked.
“Still lingering at the Capital after General Flaccus’ victory parade,” explained Harricus. “They’ll be heading out to new assignments in a day or so. Right now, I’ve got a bunch of them here and I need to make coins. Off you go.”
“We’ll talk later,” Alerio promised as he walked to the double doors at the end of the counter and pushed through to the rear hallway.
***
The Lance Corporal soaked in the tub sipping his vino. It was the first chance he’d had to relax since the trip from his father’s farm. When he reported in at the Legion Transfer Post at the Capital, a letter from Senator Maximus waited for him.
‘Lance Corporal Sisera. As soon as you receive this missive, report to my Villa without delay. General Spurius Maximus.’
With a slight detour to drop his gear and clean up a little at the Chronicles Humanum Inn, Alerio had taken a carriage to Villa Maximus. There he found three half-starved Insubri warriors and an impatient Senator.
“Consul Codex wanted to see Insubri and Etruscī die on the wood,” Maximus explained. “Probably as public revenge for Senator Gurges’ death. My friend, Junius Brutus Pera, was deathly ill. I convinced his sons to hold a public gladiator fight in his honor when their father’s strings were cut. As a result, instead of simply crucifying the Insubri and Etruscī, six captured tribesmen are going to entertain the crowd in death matches.”
“Why am I here, General?” asked Alerio.
“You’re going to train the Insubri, weapons’ instructor,” Maximus announced. “And when they win, I’m going to gloat in Appease Codex’s face while I take the whiny cūlus coins.”
Alerio shook his head to clear the memory. He couldn’t get over the disrespect the politicians showed each other. When rivalry between units in a Legion arose, they settled it with physical games. Afterwards, they saluted the winner with drinks. In the Senate of the Republic, the rivalries took a darker turn. The games involved political maneuvering and mentally stabbing your opponent in the back. Afterwards, the winners gloated while the losers plotted revenge. It was well over the head of a simple Lance Corporal.
***
“Lance Corporal Sisera?” a man asked as he stepped into the bathhouse. Thick set and wearing the armor of a city guardsman, the man stood with his fist resting on his hips. Following closely behind, came another large guardsman. Their swords were sheathed but, due to their size in the confined space, they didn’t require blades to be threatening.
“I’m Alerio Sisera,” he responded while eyeing his sword and knife which he’d left on a bench, far out of arm’s reach. “What can I do for you gentlemen?”
“Did you hear that, he called us gentlemen,” the lead city guard exclaimed.
“He doesn’t know us very well, does he?” the other replied.
“My friend is right, Sisera, you don’t know us,” the first sneered. “And you don’t want to. Just be sure the Insubri die gloriously at the funeral games and you never will. If they win, you’ll wish you’d never met us.”
“Listen up, Sons of Coalemus,” Alerio instructed as he climbed out of the bath. “Tell Daedalus, the next time he wants to talk with me, come himself. Don’t waste the God of Stupid’s time by sending the two of you.”
They both bristled, swelled up like roosters, and took a half step to circumvent the bath. Then, a club’s head shot through the door striking one of the guardsmen in the back. Spread-eagle, he splashed into the tub. Next a fist hammered the other guardsman in the back of his head and he joined his friend in the water. Erebus, Thomasious Harricus’ barbarian servant, stepped over the threshold.
“Master Sisera. I’m sorry to disturb your bath,” Erebus announced while ignoring the two men. They were struggling to shove each other out of the way so they could stand in the deep tub. “But I need to lock it up for the night to prevent unauthorized use.”
“I understand,” Alerio replied as he gathered his belongings and walked by the servant.
Erebus stepped out, slammed the door, and dropped a beam across the frame.
“I’m leaving to run an errand for Master Harricus,” the big barbarian apologized. “The bath won’t be open until I get back in the morning.”
“I got the road dust washed off. And some merda from the city streets out from under my feet,” Alerio proclaimed. “Thank you for your assistance.”
“You are welcome, Lance Corporal Sisera,” Erebus said as he lumbered towards the stables.
Alerio headed across the compound to the Inn’s rear entrance. He’d had a busy day and needed a good night’s rest to avoid Insubri swords in the morning.
***
Long before first light, Alerio pushed through the double doors and strolled into the great room. As he expected, Thomasious Harricus sat staring out the window at the dark street.
“Good morning. Care for some company?” Alerio asked.
“Please, I’ve been waiting for you,” Thomasious replied indicating a chair, a covered platter in the center of the table, and a pitcher. “You own me an explanation from yesterday.”
As Alerio sat, the innkeeper poured watered wine into a mug, then he lifted the cover. Ham slices, cheese and a loaf of bread filled the platter.
“I suppose you mean General Maximus’ summons,” Alerio stated as he ripped off a piece of bread and piled ham and cheese on it. “He wants me to train some Insubri for a funeral game.”
“Gladiator blood matches for the public,” Thomasious corrected him. “For years the Patrician families have held private matches at the grave sites. Human blood, after all, helps purify the deceased soul. But, we’ve never seen the sacrifice as a public spectacle. And between hardened warriors, at that. It should be a great show. If you’re training the Insubri, who is training the Etruscī?”
“Master Harricus. If you know it’ll be between three Insubri and three Etruscī, I have to believe, you know that Corporal Daedalus is the other weapon’s instructor,” Alerio said between bites. “It’s just a dressed-up execution. Why is everyone taking it so seriously?”
“There are many factions in the Senate. But two are very large. Appease Codex controls one powerful group,” explained Thomasious. “Can you guess who heads the other?”
“Spurius Maximus?” ventured Alerio.
“Exactly. When Maximus’ man, Flaccus, rode triumphally through the streets of the Capital after draining the city’s coffers to fund his Legion, Codex lost his bearings. He uttered some very rude things in public,” related Thomasious. “The gladiator game is more than a funeral rite. It’s a proxy fight between powerful men.”
“And powerful men don’t like to lose,” Alerio stated as he stood.
“Now, you go off and play with your savages,” Thomasious advised as he stood. “I’ve got to call the city guardsmen.”
“The city guards? Whatever for?” asked Alerio.
“I seem to have rats in my bathhouse,” Thomasious replied. “And I’d like to have witnesses when I open the door.”
Chapter -3 Villa Maximus
“Names!” demanded Alerio of the three warriors standing in front of him. When none spoke, he asked again and gave them something to think about. “Names? Did you eat last night? Were you beaten? I see full bellies and no new bruises. Except for the one’s I beat into you last evening. Wouldn’t you like a chance to pay me back?”
“Petrus,” one replied with a grin on his wide face. “I would pay you back.”
He was a solidly built man - thick of arms and legs with a neck like a bull. Alerio walked over to a weapon’s rack and snatched up two spears. Tossing one to Petrus, the Lance Corporal carried the other as he walked a careful circle around the man.
Brutal Diplomacy Page 1