“Maybe they didn’t know about the Legionaries in Messina,” ventured Frigian.
“Unlikely. There are enough spies and farmers traveling to and from town to warn them,” Claudius pointed out. “Something was driving the Syracuse commander. And it wasn’t to draw out the Legionaries.”
A hush fell over the men in the command tent. It was deep in the night and they’d all had a busy day. Finally, Creon broke the silence.
“I assume Tribune, you didn’t summon us to Temple Hill to discuss the motivation of the Syracusan commander,” offered the Sons’ Captain.
“We need to show a strong Legion presence at the south wall and in town,” Claudius explained. “To do that, we’ll be thin at the docks.”
“You need the Sons to guard the harbor for you?” guessed Creon. “Seeing as the only two forces likely to row in are angry Qart Hadasht soldiers and equally rabid Syracusan soldiers. I believe it’s in our best interest to assist you.”
“Thank you, Captain Creon. I’ll give you a day or so to rest and organize your troops,” Claudius exclaimed. “Once the Sons have the harbor secured, I’ll move my command post to Citadel Hill. It’ll give me a better vantage point to observe the Syracusan forces and to watch over the harbor.”
“Good night, Tribune,” Creon said as he, Alerio, and Frigian stood to go.
“Lance Corporal Sisera, a moment of your time, please,” ordered Claudius.
While the two Sons’ Captains pushed aside the tent flap and left, Alerio waited. Long after the crunch of the Captains’ sandals on the gravel faded, the Tribune called out.
“Sergeant. Are they gone?” he asked.
His personal guard stuck his head through the flap.
“They’re on the steps and headed down, sir,” the Optio reported.
“Thank you. Sisera we can speak freely,” Claudius announced with a smile. “First, Captain Sisera, you did an admirable job commanding the defense of the south wall. I expect you’ll be an excellent Centurion someday.”
“Thank you, sir,” Alerio acknowledged the compliment. And although exhausted, he brightened up at the Tribunes praise.
“Now about the Sons. I don’t trust the Sons of Mars. I need you to remain with them and be my eyes and ears.”
“Yes, sir. Are you expecting trouble from the Sons?” inquired Alerio.
“Not in the sense that they’ll attack us,” Claudius explained. “It’s just, they aren’t disciplined. Messina harbor is key to General Caudex and the Legion landing. If you think the Sons are failing or lacking in vigilance, I need to know. If required, I’ll shift additional Legionaries to protect the harbor.”
“I can do that, sir,” promised Alerio. “Is there anything else?”
“No, Lance Corporal, dismissed,” Claudius said releasing the tired Legionary.
Chapter 40 - The King Arrives
The old boar snorted, dug a rut in the soil with his tusks but didn’t charge. Instead, he remained in the tangled underbrush.
“Think the old pig will ever come out?” Frigian asked holding a spear at waist level with the iron head pointing at the barely visible animal.
“Maybe if you ask him nicely,” a crewman suggested. He also held a spear aimed at the boar.
“I don’t think please come out so I can kill you is anybody’s definition of nice,” Alerio added. The Legionary grasped two javelins, one in each hand, poised at shoulder height.
“Left or right, Captain Sisera? You can’t do anything with a throw by the weaker arm,” commented another of Frigian’s oarsmen.
To the crewmen, Sisera looked ridiculous holding two javelins. None of them knew he was ambidextrous and lethal with either arm.
***
After two days of rounding up pirates for guard rotations and exchanging Officer of the Guard duties at the dock, Frigian had recommended a pig hunt.
“Something to get your blood boiling,” the pirate had promised. “And unlike the Syracusan troops who may kill you, the boars, while dangerous, are good eating.”
As Tribune Claudius’ staff packed his gear and carried it down Temple Hill to a cart, Alerio, Frigian and six members of his crew set out from the warehouse district. Carrying spears, javelins, poles and hemp rope, they crossed Messina, circled around Citadel hill, and left the town through the small west gate. High in the foothills, they crossed a trail made by a sounder of swine.
Two of the oarsmen spotted a sow in the brush. A quick thrust with their spears and tense moments while they crawled in to drag out the boar, gave the hunting party their first wild pig.
“Not a bad size,” exclaimed Frigian. “But we’ll need a lot more meat if we want to return with any bragging rights.”
That’s when loud snorting, the snapping of branches and popping of roots came from deep in the thicket.
“That might be more meat than we can handle,” commented an oarsman as a huge shadowy shape appeared in the thick brush.
***
“Left or right, Captain Sisera? You can’t do anything with a throw by the weaker arm.”
“Don’t worry about Sisera’s aim,” urged Frigian with a hint of fear in his voice. “Keep your spears ready.”
“I have two thoughts,” another rower added. “One is I hope he doesn’t come out. The other is, if he does, I hope seven spears are enough to bring him down.”
“If you wanted fresh goat’s milk, you should have stayed in Messina,” another replied.
“I’m here. I’m holding this perfututum spear,” shot back the rower. “So, you can…”
“Enough! Keep your minds on the task at hand,” warned Frigian. “This is what separates men from little lads. The hunt, the bragging, and the eating. Or the stripping of flesh from your bones by sharp tusks.”
“What is he waiting for?” inquired Alerio.
“The wise old boar is waiting us out,” ventured Frigian. “See how he’s settled. If we turn, he’ll run and soon be lost in the hills.”
“Then let’s bring him out,” suggested Alerio.
“How? You going to sneak in there and wrestle an animal ten times your size?” questioned an oarsman.
“No, I thought I’d nudge him with a javelin,” Alerio informed the hunting party.
“Go right ahead,” a rower said. “I’ll stay right here behind this spear.”
Alerio drew back his left arm and powered it forward as he released the javelin. The shaft crossed to the undergrowth, threaded between the thick bushes, creased the boney head of the boar before burying the iron head in the wild pig’s back.
The great animal squealed an ear shattering wail and shredded the brush as he charged. Fully embedded, Alerio’s first javelin flopped back causing the iron tip to rip the creature’s lung. Mad with pain and furious with the two-legged animals invading his territory, the boar thundered across the clearing.
The second javelin struck at a steeper angle and the iron tip pierced deeper. The massive boar staggered but remained on his feet streaking forward. Seven spears sank in and still, the giant wild pig came at the men.
Frigian and his rowers leaped out of the way of the charging boar. All seven men hit, rolled and came swiftly to their feet. With knives in hand, they faced towards the boar. Then it stumbled, righted itself and stopped. With a last shake of the broad snout and sharp tusks, the wild pig fell to the ground.
“I pronounce the hunt a success and over,” Frigian announced between shallow breaths. Like all the men, he was shaking from the close encounter with the fierce and muscular animal. “Lash him and the little one to poles and let’s head back.”
“Whose pig are you calling little?” challenged one of the oarsmen who had brought down the sow.
Frigian strolled to the sow and spread his arms to the length of the wild pig. While still holding his arms out, he moved to the boar. Laying his hands against the wide side of the huge boar, he displayed the size difference. Without a word, he turned his head and smiled.
“She’s still a nice ki
ll,” protested the oarsmen.
“I never said she wasn’t,” Frigian replied. “Lift them and let’s get back. We have a pig roast to prepare.”
Two oarsmen balanced a pole on their shoulders with the sow dangling between them. The boar required two men on each end to lift the pole to their shoulders. Frigian and Alerio took the lead and the happy hunting party started down the hill to the first ravine. As the porters of the wild pigs slowed to navigate the gully, Frigian stopped to direct the crossing. Alerio surged ahead climbing the slope.
As he approached the top, the whinny and neigh of horses reached him. Raising up, he peaked over the crest. Below, four Qart Hadasht cavalrymen moved slowly, letting their mounts pick their way through the foothills. If they weren’t already at the next shallow valley, Alerio might have engaged them. He scurried down to Frigian.
“Empire cavalry just over the hill,” Alerio explained. “I’m going ahead to warn the Legionaries.”
“A complete unit?” asked one of the oarsmen. He lifted a hand from the pole and, with a sad expression on his face, pointed to the wild pigs. “Do we have to leave them?”
“Only four and they have moved away,” replied Alerio.
“The Goddess Diana is watching over our hunt,” the oarsman responded.
“Let’s hurry before she changes her mind,” suggested Frigian. “Captain Sisera, we’ll see you in town.”
Alerio saluted and climbed to the top of the hill. After checking to be sure no more horsemen were there, he glanced back and waved the oarsmen forward. Then he vaulted over the top and ran for Messina.
***
Alerio rounded Citadel Hill and almost ran into Senior Centurion Valerian.
“Slow down, Lance Corporal,” Valerian advised to the huffing and puffing and soaking wet Legionary.
“Qart Hadasht cavalry to the west moving south,” Alerio blew out before inhaling deeply.
“How many?” demanded Valerian.
Alerio bent over with his hands on his knees, lifted one hand and displayed four fingers.
“Mounted couriers. If that’s all, there’s no threat,” Valerian ventured. “If they are heading for the Syracusans, that’s a tale yet to be told. Walk with me.”
The two men strolled casually up the slope so Alerio could catch his breath. They glanced up to see the Tribune on the crest gazing to the south.
“Tribune Claudius. Let me be the first to congratulate you on seizing Messina,” Valerian said as they reached the top of Citadel Hill.
“Thank you, Senior Centurion,” replied Claudius. “Please express my appreciation to the Legionaries for their sacrifice.”
The Tribune hadn’t looked at them. His head was turned as he continued to stare off towards the south.
“Over the River Longanus, I see more Syracusan forces,” Tribune Claudius reported while lifting an arm indicating the thin ribbon of water beyond the battlefield. “Based on the number of columns, I believe King Hiero II has arrived. And, with a sizable army.”
“Orders, sir?” inquired Valerian. Then he remembered Alerio. “Lance Corporal Sisera reported a mounted Qart Hadasht courier detail of four riding to the south.”
“Lance Corporal Sisera, please tell the Sons’ Captains, I now understand the motivation of the commander of the Syracusan advance force. He was putting on a display because his King was coming. He didn’t want to admit he let his soldiers sit idle for weeks,” Claudius explained. “Ask the Sons if they will maintain their surveillance of the docks.”
“Of course, Tribune,” Lance Corporal Alerio Sisera assured him.
“Senior Centurion, I have two fears,” exclaimed Tribune Gaius Claudius as he caught sight of the Qart Hadasht cavalrymen trotting towards the River Longanus and the King of Syracuse. “By capturing Messina, we have united two adversaries against the Republic.”
“And the other fear, Tribune?” inquired Senior Centurion Valerian.
“We may have started a war that will either make or break the Republic.”
The End
Brutal Diplomacy
A note from J. Clifton Slater
I appreciate you reading Brutal Diplomacy. The Clay Warrior Stories are a passion project for me and the success of the series tells me I’m not alone in my fascination with the Roman Republic.
Hopefully, the tension between Hanno and Claudius came through in this book. The actual events, which I attempted to reenact, gave me the bones for this story. And yes, Hanno was crucified by Carthage for surrendering Messina.
The other event I found interesting was the first public gladiator contest held as funeral games in 264 B.C. They took place in the stockyards between captured Etruscan warriors.
Alerio Sisera will fight again. But I have a lot of research to do on the First Punic War before writing the next installment of Clay Warrior Stories.
My readers are amazing. To you, I send a cross chest salute and say, Euge! Well Done!
J. Clifton
E-Mail: [email protected]
Facebook.com/Galactic Council Realm
Fortune Reigns
Clay Warrior Stories
Book #6
J. Clifton Slater
Fortune Reigns 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 for any errors.
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 with her red pen. Without her, the project would have wondered far from my plan.
Content
Fortune Reigns
Act 1
Chapter 1 - Outside Messina’s East Wall
Chapter 2 - Preparing for the Slaughter
Chapter 3 – First Blood of the First Punic War
Act 2
Chapter 4 – An Inauspicious Beginning
Chapter 5 – Caught Between
Chapter 6 – Punishment Post
Chapter 7 – A Bribe and Murders
Chapter 8 – Bees’ Wax
Chapter 9 – Hunting Stand
Chapter 10 – Missives and Responses
Chapter 11 – Horse, Infantry & Irregulars
Chapter 12 – In a Day of Illusions
Act 3
Chapter 13 – A Hero is Anointed
Chapter 14 – Assault at the Wall
Chapter 15 – Dawn and Death
Chapter 16 – Sweet Butcher
Act 4
Chapter 17 – Canes Venandi
Act 5
Chapter 18 – Before the March
Chapter 19 – A Split in the Road
Chapter 20 – Mules and Grain
Act 6
Chapter 21 - The Walls of Echetla
Chapter 22 – Words of Deceit
Chapter 23 - The Bones of a Plan
Chapter 24 – A Celebration of Sterculius
Act 7
Chapter 25 – Retreat from Echetla
Chapter 26 – Give me a Day
Chapter 27 – Pull Us Out
Chapter 28 – Fear and Superstition
Chapter 29 – A Promise Fulfilled
The End
Note from J. Clifton Slater
Books by J. Clifton Slater
Fortune Reigns
Act 1
Fortune Reigns takes place when two Legions crossed the Strait and arrived in Messina. It marked the start of The First Punic War and the first time a Legion crossed a major body of water to fight. And it was almost a tragedy for the blossoming Roman Republic.
Welcome to 264 B.C.
Chapter 1 - Outside Messina’s East Wall
The last blade rapped against the last shield sending a final sharp sound over the Legion positions. It carried beyond them and, a bowshot away, a detachment of Syracuse cavalrymen heard the report. The horsemen nodded in approval at the vicious strike.
“Step back. Set to re-engage. Keep it tight and make it hard,” ordered the weapons instructor. “In case King Hiero the Second’s men are deaf.”
“We already know they’re blind and stupid,” the first shield holder observed as he braced. “Fine. I’m set.”
“Don’t discount Tyche’s blessing,” chided the Legionary standing in front of him.
“The Goddess is with us,” the next man in the half squad suggested. “She may be Greek but, so far, her smile has brought us luck.”
The five facing pairs of Legionnaires all nodded at the statement.
“Squad, about face. On my command, left pivot wheel right to face the enemy. Right pivot forward ten paces,” Alerio Sisera ordered. “Execute!”
The left side swung around, the pivot watching out of the corner of his eye to be sure the shields were tight and the line straight. As their line circled, the right pivot directed his half of the squad forward. Within a few steps, the Syracuse horsemen could see the five Legionaries wheeling left would end up diagonally facing the other five. Smiling at the out of sync drill, they waited for the Legionaries to break ranks in order to run to get into position to engage.
Alerio waited until the left pivot’s line was three steps from slamming into the back of the man on the end of the right pivot’s line.
“Right pivot. About face, wheel left and advance,” Alerio shouted. “Execute!”
The five turned about. As their line swung to face the converging line, they slammed gladii into the shields of the left pivot’s line. As if a drum roll, the sounds of cascading strikes rolled down the five shields as the right pivot’s Legionaries came online and met shield to shield with their adversaries.
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