Then the Empire sub-commander added to the Captain’s worries.
“Second rank, forward!”
***
Alerio limped to the end of the dirt path and adjusted his pace. With his right foot, he stepped down onto the dock. From the shadows in the alleyway between warehouses, he made out the shapes of shields at the end of the passageway. Beyond them, Qart Hadasht soldiers stood in a semicircle jabbing with their spears. He hobbled quickly into the alley.
“Pull back four steps,” the Legionary shouted, “Pass the word. Four steps, on my count.”
Some of the oarsmen in the rear turned to see who was shouting orders. They saw a mostly naked man still dripping seawater with a bleeding left foot. Then, one of them recognized him.
“Lieutenant Sisera has taken command,” he bellowed. “Standby, four steps back on the Lieutenant’s command.”
“Step back!” shouted Alerio. The order, repeated through the ranks, was followed and the line moved inside the corners of the warehouses.
“Step back!” he called out again. When the rows moved this time, the spearheads from the soldiers on the sides could no longer reach the shields.
After two more steps, the Qart Hadasht soldiers hesitated.
“Douse the lanterns and fires behind you. Make them come in after you,” Alerio told the oarsmen. “They’ll have to bunch up in the dark. Hold here and if you can, grab a spear and drag the cūlus to your ranks. You know what to do with him.”
“Are you staying with us, Lieutenant Sisera?” one asked.
“You’ve got this under control,” Alerio assured them. “I’ve got to go check on less hardy oarsmen.”
As Alerio limped away, an oarsman observed, “The Lieutenant isn’t wearing armor. Why, he’s barely got anything on.”
“That’s because he wants to leave something for us to do,” another crewman replied. “If he had armor and two swords, he’d kill the soldiers and leave us bored.”
***
After pulling back another group of Sons and having the fires extinguished, so the walls forced the soldiers to enter a tight and dark space, Alerio limped up beside Frigian.
“Back four steps, Captain, and kill the lights behind your men,” the Legionary suggested. “Use the walls to narrow their attack line.”
Frigian snapped his head around at the voice. He’d been so focused on the fight, Alerio’s arrival surprised him. Then he ran his eyes from the exposed chest down to the bloody foot.
“Didn’t you leave undamaged with a nice set of Legion armor?” inquired Frigian. Before Alerio could explain, the Sons’ Captain shouted, “Standby oars. Back one step.”
The order was repeated and his line backed up. Three more times he called out and the oarsmen retreated deeper between the buildings. The Empire soldiers paused rather than march into the dark and guarded space.
“Went for a swim and picked up a splinter,” stated Alerio. “A big splinter.”
“Oarsmen know to lift their feet when walking on a deck,” scolded Frigian.
“I’d love to stand here all night and learn the finer points of being a pirate,” Alerio explained. “But you have two more lines that I need to pull back.”
The Legionary reached down and picked up a dead oarsman’s Greek shield and sword. With a nod, he hobbled towards the next alleyway.
***
“Recover your lines!” the sub-commander shouted. “We’ll dig the rats out of their holes at daybreak.”
Shortly after the soldiers retreated, Alerio limped back to Frigian’s position and sat down on a crate. He lifted his left foot.
“We held them,” gushed the Sons’ Captain.
“At dawn, I’ll wager you’ll find my bloody footprints all along the dock,” proclaimed Alerio.
“We usually cut the loose skin and bandage the raw meat,” Frigian explained as he examined the foot in the light of a lantern. “It’s like a blister. Open it up to saltwater and it’ll heal in a day.”
“I’ve had blisters on my feet and this hurt way more,” replied Alerio.
“You’ll never be a good pirate, Lieutenant Sisera,” the Captain teased him. “You’re too delicate.”
Then the splashing of oars rowing in rhythm reached them. Holding the lantern out over the water, they saw nothing. But their eyes were looking for the bow of a transport ship. The noise came from lower, near the water level.
A Legion patrol boat eased into the light with a taunt tow rope attached behind the coxswain. At the end of the rope came a transport.
“Back it down,” shouted Sergeant Martius from the coxswain position.
The patrol boat jerked to a stop but the transport drifted forward.
“I said, back it down!” the rowing instructor yelled. “Have you forgotten all of your training.”
Curses came from the six rowers on the transport as well as splashing from their frantic efforts to stop the bigger ship. Finally, it eased until the ship floated and lines were thrown to the dock.
“Sergeant Martius, any trouble with the crossing or the marker fires?” Alerio called down.
“Lance Corporal Sisera? Is that you?” the Sergeant asked gazing up from the boat. “You are out of uniform.”
“It’s been a busy night,” replied Alerio. “Are the signal fires positioned properly?”
“Yes. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go back to Rhégion and collect you another half Century of Legionaries.”
Fifty fully armored Legion heavy infantrymen and a Centurion climbed over the rails and down to the docks. Soon javelins and shields were passed over the side and distributed.
“Lance Corporal Sisera. You’re out of uniform,” an NCO observed as he marched up.
“First Sergeant Brictius. It’s been a busy night. This is Captain Milon Frigian, commander of the Sons of Mars on the dock,” Alerio said introducing the men.
“Captain Frigian. Nice to meet you,” the First Sergeant said briskly. “Where is the heaviest concentration of enemy forces. We’ll get Legionaries there right away.”
“The Qart Hadasht soldiers have retreated for the night but it’ll get ugly at dawn,” Frigian said.
“Ugly for them,” promised Brictius. “Show me your defenses so I can have my lads relieve yours.”
The two walked away with Frigian pointing out the locations of his oarsmen. Alerio sat down on the crate and tenderly touched the rip on the bottom of his foot.
“Do you need help?” asked a Legion Medic.
“Doc. I do,” Alerio exclaimed. The Medic glanced at the foot before pulling out a honey, mint and salt salve. As he smeared it on the puncture wound, Alerio let out a sigh and said, “Doc that feels great. Better than a mug of fresh goat’s milk.”
The Medic glanced up with a quizzical look on his face before shaking his head and returning to the task of bandaging the wound.
Another transport arrived behind the first ship and fifty more Legionaries disembarked. The Republic had landed a full Century of heavy infantry, their Centurion and NCOs, a half squad of signalmen, and skirmishers. Not enough to take the town but certainly enough to hold the dock and warehouse district of Messina.
Act 5
Chapter - 30 Sunrise Surprise
Alerio found a better fitting pair of boots. As he slipped his bandaged foot into the left boot, a familiar voice greeted him.
“Lance Corporal Sisera. A Greek shield and chest armor, Legion shoulder rigs, an Egyptian pit fighter helmet and an Illyrian sword,” Gerontius stated observing Alerio’s scavenged equipment. “It must have been a busy night.”
“It was First Sergeant. Glad you could make it,” Alerio offered with a grin. “First Sergeant Brictius and the Sons’ Captain are walking the defense lines.”
“I’m sure they’re up to the task,” the First Sergeant of the Southern Legion replied. “What I need is your opinion of where to put Tribune Claudius’ command post.”
“We’ll need to push the Qart Hadasht troops back across the av
enue and up a few streets,” explained Alerio. “From there you’ll have access to the Temple of Adiona. Other than the Citadel, it’s the highest observation point in Messina.”
Gerontius turned and looked to the north. The Temple and hill were in silhouette against the starry sky. Before the First Sergeant could turn back, an oarsman walked up behind him.
“Lieutenant Sisera. The men want to know if they can light a fire,” the oarsman inquired.
Gerontius spun around and watched the exchange.
“Keep it out of view from the alleyway,” Alerio instructed. “Behind the warehouse works. Have the Sons rotate between the shield wall and the fire until relieved by the Legionaries.”
“Yes sir. And thank you for pulling us back,” the oarsman said as he turned to go. “It was getting a might rough. Glad you finally got dressed though, Lieutenant. A naked officer is unsettling.”
“Naked and an officer?” exclaimed Gerontius as the oarsman vanished in the dark. “I guess it was a busy night.”
***
Alerio watched as two more transports were towed to the dock. Tribune Gaius Claudius climbed over the rail and as soon as he touched the dock, the First Sergeants, two Centurions, plus a Corporal of the signal corps rushed to greet him.
With two Centuries of heavy infantrymen landed, the Sons of Mars were relieved from their five locations. In the dark between the warehouses, oarsmen in mismatched gear were replaced by Legionaries with their heavy shields and javelins.
Seven transports made the crossing before a crown of white light appeared on the mountains to the east. The last one hundred Legionaries didn’t arrive. At the sight of four Qart Hadasht Triremes entering the Strait, the signalman in Rhégion Tower waved the ships and patrol boats to stand down. In the coming daylight, the sea and Strait once again belonged to the warships of the Empire.
***
“First two ranks, on line,” shouted sub-commander Gisco. As his orders were repeated by Qart Hadasht Lieutenants, the senior officer faced the warehouses. “This is your last chance to end the rebellion. Send out your Captains and save yourselves. Or else, face the swords of the Empire.”
“We can’t do that,” yelled Milon Frigian from the deep shadows. “You’ll have to come in and get us.”
“First two lines forward,” ordered the sub-commander. “No mercy!”
All along the western edged of the avenue, soldiers marched from the eight streets, angled to lineup with the warehouse alleyways, merged and lowered their spears.
“Forward!” the sub-commander shrieked.
The soldiers were marching to the alleyways in three ranks followed by their Lieutenants. Their officers couldn’t see over the tall helmets when they repeated the command. And the first rank didn’t have the authority or right to question their officer’s orders. They marched into the alleyways.
The long spears should have found gaps in the loose formation of the oarsmen’s shields. With holes punched in the line, the soldiers would assault through, breaking the Son’s line and the second and third ranks would follow killing those knocked down or wounded. It was a standard Qart Hadasht military tactic used successfully against armies and rebellious tribes. Every adversary of the Qart Hadasht Empire had broken from this style of assault.
The spearheads of the first rank deflected upward on the tilted Legion infantry shields. As the rank closed in on the uniformed shields, the second and third rank pushed forward. Javelin thrusts struck from the over the Legion shields and many of the soldiers on the front rank were wounded or killed. Dead, injured, or struggling to draw their swords, they were pushed onto the Legion shields.
“Launch two,” shouted the Centurion, Century’s Sergeant and Corporal from different alleyways.
Heavy iron tipped javelins arched over the clashing front ranks. When the Qart Hadasht Lieutenants witnessed soldiers in their last two ranks fall from the air assault, they stepped back looking down the avenue at the sub-commander for directions.
Sub-commander Gisco, confident in the success of the assault, lingered at the side of the avenue. With a mug of wine in one hand, he washed his face with a damp cloth held in the other. Precious moments were wasted as he handed the cloth to his man servant and tilted the mug to drain it. When he finally glanced around, he was momentarily shocked to see all of his Lieutenants waving the distress signal.
He couldn’t comprehend the meaning. A few without experience panicking, was to be expected. But all of them at once, overwhelmed him. While he pondered the significance of the trouble signs, his soldiers died in the alleyways.
Where the Qart Hadasht’s leadership failed, the Legion’s command excelled.
***
Tribune Gaius Claudius positioned himself at the center of the dock. On his right was Centurion Valerian, the newly appointed Senior Centurion of his expedition. First Sergeant Brictius stood to his left. Both men faced away from the Tribune.
“Initial assault broken on the right, Tribune,” announced Valerian after receiving positive signs from two signalmen.
“First Sergeant?” inquired Claudius.
“One positive and one holding, sir,” Brictius explained the delay. A few heartbeats later, he reported, “Initial assault broken on the left, Tribune.”
“Signal the advance,” ordered Claudius.
With hand signs, the Senior Centurion and the First Sergeant unleashed the Republic’s heavy infantry.
***
On the other side of the avenue, the next two ranks of Empire soldiers waited for orders. They could see the Lieutenants signaling franticly but their Sergeants called for them to wait. Their feet shuffling nervously and their shields lifted in anticipation, they waited.
In the alleyways, the second and third ranks of the soldiers shoved forward. Not that they wanted to reach the unmoving shields and the javelins but to escape the falling javelin heads. There was a safe zone between the rear and the jabbing iron tips from the Legionaries. As men in combat who took time to think or pause for a moment, the survivors of the second and third ranks bunched up in the zone.
The sub-commander decided that all of his Lieutenants were cowards or unprofessional and lacking the fear and respect of their soldiers. After this was over, he’d ship them all back to Qart Hadasht in shame. There was always a new batch of noble born brats to replace them.
“Third and fourth ranks, forward!” he shouted. Then under his breath, he whispered, ‘I’d better replace the Sergeants as well. And have them whipped for dereliction of duty, to impress on the new ones the need for discipline.”
As the Lieutenants repeated the sub-commander’s order, Senior Centurion Valerian and First Sergeant Brictius’ signs were passed from the signalmen to the Centurions or NCOs in the alleyways.
“Front rank, standby to draw. Draw!”
Javelins were quickly passed back and by the count of four, gladii were yanked from sheaths.
“Advance. Advance. Advance!”
The safe zone in front of the Legion lines vanished as the shield walls shot forward then retreated. In their place came steel blades. Again, and again, the progressing shields slammed into the soldiers and before they could recover, the blades stabbed out. None of the first three ranks that went into the alleyways marched out. Their bodies, hacked and stomped, were unrecognizable by the time the hobnailed boots passed over them.
***
On the streets, the next two ranks of Qart Hadasht soldiers stepped off briskly and angled towards the mouth of the alleys. They met and merged into three ranks. The leading ranks lowered their spears. Their Lieutenants stepped to the side to allow the ranks to enter the narrow space.
Suddenly, flights of javelins sailed from between the warehouse walls. With javelins hanging from legs and shields, the front rank faltered. Then, four ranks of Legionaries appeared. Without pausing, they smashed into the surprised Qart Hadasht soldiers.
***
“Contact on the avenue, Tribune,” both Valerian and Brictius reported a
t almost the same time.
“Show the Qart Hadasht some depth,” ordered Gaius Claudius.
Valerian and Brictius held up the hand facing the warehouses and motioned with the fingers of the other hand towards the upright hand.
Signalmen spoke to squad leaders, and the final twenty-six Legionaries marched into the alleyways. Instead of engaging, they stopped at the avenue holding their gladii low and their shields high.
What the Qart Hadasht sub-commander saw and feared were alleyways full of uniformed and ordered military ranks. Believing his troops were outnumbered and about to be slaughtered, he called out to his Lieutenants.
“Retreat. Back four blocks and setup defensive positions!” he bellowed as he pushed aside soldiers blocking his way as he fled up the town’s wide center road.
“The right side Qart Hadasht forces are withdrawing, Tribune,” reported Senior Centurion Valerian.
“They are withdrawing on the left side as well, sir,” Brictius said moments later. Then he added, “Nicely played, sir.”
Despite the cool morning air and the fresh breeze coming off the harbor, Tribune Gaius Claudius was sweating.
“I wonder if it would have worked if their commander realized we only had twenty-six infantrymen in reserve at the alleyways?” Claudius asked as much to himself as to the Senior Centurion and the First Sergeant.
“Should we pursue, Tribune?” Valerian asked.
“I don’t want us stretched too thin,” Gaius Claudius explained. “Get a forward squad patrolling on every street as if we owned Messina. We’ll see how far they run.”
Senior Centurion Valerian and First Sergeant Brictius marched off in different directions. Their signaling calling duties done, it was time they organized the expedition personally.
Chapter - 31 Hilltop Command
Sweat ran down the sub-commander’s face and his ornate plumed helmet partially blocked his vision from where it twisted sideways during the run. At the top of the hill, he slowed and straightened the helmet. There was nothing he could do about the sweat because it was a result of the run and who he faced in the Citadel.
Brutal Diplomacy Page 13