While they sipped beer, the man and Alerio talked about trading between ports, what cargos his ship hauled, and the man’s life as a sailor. All the while something was nagging at the back of Alerio’s mind.
When the beer was gone, the man went back to caulking his ship and Alerio strolled over to the other four sailors standing watch at their boats. After a few sea stories, he crossed the beach and started up to stairs.
At the first level plaza, he returned the empty mugs to Pholus. As he turned toward the next set of stairs, Hyllus’ refrain came back to him, “Don’t get caught by surprise.”
Chapter 25 – Conjecture or Conclusion
Corporal Cephas had a look on his face as if he’d just bitten into a spoiled olive. He sat behind the desk in Second Century’s office and glared at the source of his indigestion.
“A merchant wants to row out at first light,” repeated the NCO. “I don’t see a problem with him wanting to get an early start on a long voyage.”
“It’s not that they’re leaving,” explained Alerio. “It’s the fact he hasn’t completed repairs. Why would a merchant be in such a rush to leave Bovesia in a leaky boat?”
“Sisera, you’ve just reported in. After you’ve been here for a time you’ll realize that all merchants, sailors, and oarsmen are crazy. Why else would they spend their days on the open sea?” questioned Cephas. “Look, with my Centurion at Headquarters with half the Century. And my Sergeant off training new Recruits, it leaves me in charge of the Second. I’m not about to round up five ships’ Captains and grill them on why they do what they do. Go get some sleep. You’re teaching a class in the morning.”
***
The sky blushed pink but no light appeared over the mountains. Alerio had completed his calisthenics and was sitting on a barrel running a stone over the blade of his gladius.
“Second Century, on the parade ground for training,” shouted Corporal Cephas as he marched from the Headquarters building. He glanced around as if looking for something. Then, he spotted Alerio, “I thought you over slept?”
“Good morning, Corporal. I’m an early riser,” replied Alerio as he hopped off the barrel. “Ran sprints, did long jumps, hand balancing, and stretched already.”
The sounds of men grumbling and putting on hobnailed boots came from the tents.
“Lance Corporals. Hurry them up,” Cephas called out to his squad leaders. “You’ll soon be burning daylight, and you know how much I hate waste.”
A short blast from the trumpet on the roof rang out followed by four more individual notes.
“The ships have rowed out,” announced the Corporal pointing to the stand on the rooftop of a building. “More will be rowing this afternoon.”
“Is that how it works?” asked Alerio.
“Everything at Bovesia is like the tide,” said Cephas. “Ships roll in and roll out as steadily as the waves. When do you want to run the class? After the exercises or before?”
“Let’s do the training first,” replied Alerio. “That way, if I need to work one-on-one with some of them, I’ll be able to pull them aside.”
“Pretty confident you’ll find flaws, aren’t you?” asked Cephas.
“A Sergeant told me years ago you can always improve. If your technique is solid, then work on your attitude,” replied Alerio.
By now weak morning light had touched the bare ground and Legionaries were emerging from the four tents. In tunics without helmets or armor, they lined up with their shields. A rank of five backed up by a rank of four. The squad leaders, who would be the fifth men in the second ranks, adjusted the ranks before marching to the head of each formation.
“Second Century. This is Lance Corporal Sisera, a gladius instructor,” Cephas stated. “This morning he’ll be running you through some drills.”
Legionaries by virtue of their occupation and the training required to stay in the Legion were jaded, cynical, and suspicious. They didn’t give respect. It had to be earned.
Cephas knew this and after announcing Lance Corporal Sisera, he drifted back to watch the entertainment and read a scroll; one of many he needed to review. Being a Century’s Corporal and acting Sergeant was tough. Cephas had discovered that if he worked on small thing while watching other things he could do twice the work.
“Who is your best swordsman?” Alerio inquired softly as if he were shy and unsure of himself.
An older Legionary stepped out of the ranks.
“That would be me,” the Legionary boasted as he drew his gladius and swung it through the air as he strolled toward Alerio. “Where do you want me to strike you? Low so it hurts or high so it shows?”
Behind the man laughter ran through the ranks of Legionaries. In the Legion if you professed to be a specialist, then by the gods, you’d better be extraordinary. Specifically, if you taught the gladius. The weapon a Legionary used when he fought belly-to-belly against an enemy.
“That’s an interesting question, Private,” replied Alerio as he drew his own gladius. “Give me a second, please.”
More laughter rose from the formation as the Private said confidently, “Take all the time you need, gladius instructor.”
Alerio used a shuffling gate to cross the open ground toward the rows of thorn bushes. All the Legionaries watched as the Lance Corporal reached into the wall with his hand and the gladius. When he turned around, he held a long half inch thick branch. As he meandered back to the formation, he used his gladius to strip off the thorns. By the time he reached the Private, his gladius was sheathed and he held the switch in his right hand.
“What’s your name Legionary?” Alerio asked while running his eyes from his own hand and up along the length of the thin stick.
“Private Lupus. Right-Pivot of Second Squad,” the Legionary replied with a toothy grin. “Are you going to draw your gladius and fight? Or are you going to draw pretty pictures in the dirt with your stick?”
Corporal Cephas looked up from the scroll and shook his head in frustration. He was about to go rescue Lance Corporal Sisera and save him anymore embarrassment. He took a step when…
“Guard position,” ordered Alerio while raising the stick to cross Lupus’ blade. “Fight.”
The first thing Lupus did was pull his blade far to the side so he could swing back and cut the ridiculous stick in half. Before he could chop it, the switch rotated downward and snapped forward whipping the Private across his stomach.
Lupus swung the blade back and leaned forward to reach the instructor. But, Alerio recovered the stick and bent at his waist to let the gladius tip pass harmlessly by. The stick though snapped forward and slammed into the Private’s right shoulder. Like the strike to the stomach, it wasn’t debilitating. But, it would leave an angry red welt.
Private Lupus lost his temper. With the gladius held low, he stepped forward and thrust the blade toward the Lance Corporal’s midsection. It was intended to be a killing move. The tip and the heavy blade behind it dove toward Alerio’s belly. Just before it ripped open his stomach, Alerio used the stick to shove the tip off to the side.
Stepping inside Lupus’ guard, Alerio rotated the stick upward. With momentum, the branch came from overhead and slapped Lupus’ left shoulder. Lupus shuffled back trying to get distance between himself and his tormentor. A single step at this close of a range and he could butcher the Lance Corporal. Alerio didn’t give him the opportunity.
As Lupus stepped back, Alerio stepped forward staying almost chest-to-chest with the Legionary. While their torsos were mirrored, the stick was busy slapping the Private on the head and neck. When Alerio tired of the head, he began to slap Lupus’ legs.
They had taken four steps when Alerio snaked a leg between Lupus’. A shove sent Lupus down where he landed on his butt. To punctuate the lesson, Alerio placed the tip of the stick on Lupus’ forehead and pushed. Second Century’s top swordsman was forced to lay back and stretch out in the dirt.
“Never underestimate your enemy,” Alerio said as he walked t
o stand in front of the formation. Pointing back to Lupus, he continued, “Private Lupus’ mistake was focusing on my weapon and not his training. The stick wouldn’t have stood against his gladius, if he’d dueled with me.”
Alerio gripped the branch in both hands. Raising it overhead, he bent the stick and it snapped with a loud crack. While demonstrating the weakness of the rod, he watched the eyes of the men at the side of the formation. That, along with listening, alerted him to when Lupus scrambled off the ground and charged at Alerio’s undefended back.
Pivoting to his right, Alerio bent his knees while drawing his own gladius. Lupus’ blade passed over his shoulder. But Alerio didn’t remain stationary. He spun completely around and smashed the flat of his blade into the Private’s back.
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 Legionary said between clinched teeth.
“First off, Private Lupus, I want to thank you for volunteering,” Alerio said 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 stated.
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 blade withdrew, Alerio’s blade jutted forward until the tip rested gently at 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 said to the assembled Legionaries. “They may have simple primitive weapons, but remember that 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 Lance Corporal 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. Corporal 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,” replied 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 become a beautiful day.
Alerio finished and sent the Legionaries back to their squads to join in the sprints. As the men raced back and forth, Alerio strolled to the edge of the garrison and peered down into the valley. The side of the hill with the river was mud flats and brown water. On this side of the 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 Legionaries 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. 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,” said Alerio.
“Get your helmet and shoulder rigs but leave your side 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 duel 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 duel sheaths.
***
On the river side of the hill, Third Squad was queued up behind the remainders of Second Squad. The rest of the Legionaries 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.
Legionary 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 had 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 oars. When Alerio placed his oar in a notch, the boat was only seven rowers short of 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 was waving flags directing the patrol boat toward 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 Lance Corporal.
“We’re running from a pirate,” the man explained. “It’s just over the horizon.”
“Private Lupus, take half a squad and show your shields,” th
e 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?” asked Alerio.
“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 rail 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 ship and the boat. They wobbled and waited to scramble over the rail and onto the transport. The troublesome ideas solidified when Hadrian appeared on the bow.
It wasn’t that the Captain looked out of place that far from his rear oar. 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 as he ran down the center of the patrol boat. Drawing the gladii, he repeated, “Ambush!”
He raced to the raised curved bow of the patrol boat, planted a foot, and launched himself sideway. 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.
Bloody Water (Clay Warrior Stories Book 3) Page 8