Clay Legionary (Clay Warrior Stories Book 1)

by J. Clifton Slater

  “Might be a merchant guarding a valuable shipment,” Velius replied. “Or Rebels trying to bring in weapons. We’ll see.”

  Alerio overheard the conversation and strained his eyes trying to see the caravan. There was a smidgen of dust in the distance, but rising against the flat range stretching North, he couldn’t tell if it was small and close or, towering and far away. What he could make out in the hazy distance were the tops of ragged mountains. From the pass, they appeared to be no more than teeth on a saw.

  The Light Infantryman faded back behind the shields and joined four others. The five Velites had baskets of javelins and would act as close in artillery if it came to a fight. Between the missiles and the moving wall bristling with steel, a reinforced squad of Legionaries was a formidable force. In this case it proved to be unnecessary.

  Two of the caravan’s guards jogged ahead of the wagons. The Legionaries shields were up and only the tops of the Heavy Infantry’s helmets and eyes were visible. Behind the shields, Gladii were sheathed as each Legionary held an iron tipped javelin in their right hand.

  The merchant guards stopped ten feet from the line. They grinned at the show of military might and raised their hands away from their curved long swords. As the oxen drawn wagons approached, Lance Corporal Velius and Private Didacus took a circular path to the side of the first wagon. Their route was designed so they wouldn’t block the line of attack between the Legion Squad and the wagons.

  “What are you hauling?” Velius asked as the oxen waddled to a stop.

  The oxen herder pointed to one of the guards trailing the wagons. At the rear of the last wagon, a man, with soft footfalls and almost no movement to his shoulders, seemed to glide forward to the second wagon. His face was hidden behind a scarf and long sleeves hid most of his arms. With nimble fingers, he untied a strap and peeled back the cover.

  He moved gracefully to the first wagon and repeated the procedure.

  “What are you hauling?” Velius repeated.

  “Honey from the Golden Valley,” the man said in a sing song accent. Then he reached over the wagon’s side and his arms disappeared.

  Alerio and the rest of the squad flexed. Didacus shifted his shield to provide cover for himself and the Lance Corporal if it came to a fight. The man didn’t brandish a weapon when his arms reappeared.

  He lifted out a polished wood box. With it balanced on a sideboard, he raised the top and extracted a pouch of coin and a scroll. He offered the items to Velius.

  Ignoring the offerings, the Lance Corporal marched over to get a better look at the box. Inside, were more purses of coin and a stack of identical scrolls. He shifted his focus to the wagon and inspected the cargo. After carefully looking over the short, stubby amphorae, he moved to the second wagon. Once satisfied the wagons held nothing except jars of honey, he marched back to the man.

  “There’s a tax,” Velius began to explain but the man ended the conversation by handing the Lance Corporal the pouch.

  “All right move along,” the Lance Corporal ordered. “Second Squad, by fours, wheel left and wheel right.”

  The line of Legionaries broke as the four on the left pivoted as a unit until they were lined up along the pass instead of across it. The right three Legionaries mirrored the maneuver and were joined by Didacus as they lined up along the other side of the pass. If the caravan guards attacked, they would be trapped between the shields of the Legionaries. Smartly, they simply urged the oxen into motion.

  As the wagon wheels began to turn, the man handed Velius the scroll.

  “For your commanders,” the man said as the second wagon rolled by. The man fell in behind it and the caravan moved away.

  The Lance Corporal waited until the wagons were out of arrow shot distance before ordering the squad to stand down. He unrolled the surprisingly short scroll. Usual a scroll was used for long missives and parchment for short notes and letters. This had hardwood knobs and a thick center post but only a short section of parchment connected at the end.

  He read from the odd scroll, ‘Return the Nocte Apibus. Retribution is due. Heed this, the Dulce Pugno.’

  The man said it was for his commanders and Velius would happily deliver the scroll. Any document signed, from the Dulce Pugno or Sweet Fist, was a document he’d gladly turn over to high authorities.

  Before he could return to the Raider Camp, his squad was required to patrol the areas on either side of the pass. A caravan was a good lure to draw out a squad. If an enemy wanted to attack, they could wait to see if the Legionaries relaxed after checking the merchant’s vehicles. Second Squad wouldn’t relax.

  “Left and right units, forward march,” the Lance Corporal ordered. The four men on the left and four on the right side began marching towards each other. When they were four steps apart, he commanded, “Squad, halt, one-two.”

  “Left flank, right face. Right flank, left face,” Velius ordered. The two units performed the ninety degree turns and now the squad faced in one direction. “Second Squad, Raider Century, forward march, left, stomp, left stomp,” he directed at the squad. They marched Eastward, out of the pass, and onto the plane.

  While the squad drilled and patrolled, the Light Infantrymen headed South following the caravan. Although they couldn’t see its destination they could judge if the merchant’s wagons halted or veered off the road leading to the trading town.

  For decades, the trading town, some five miles from the pass, had been the resupply and preparation stop for caravans and travelers heading North. For those traveling South from across the plane, the trading town was the first civilized settlement they encountered in over a hundred and fifty miles. It was a major economic center due to its location. To avoid the trading town and the pass, travelers would need to journey hundreds of miles to the West and travel around the mountains or, set sail on the ocean to the East.

  Second Squad marched, drilled, and patrolled on both sides of the pass until the sun hung low over the horizon.

  “Second Squad, route step,” commanded Velius. This directed the squad to break their uniformed steps and allowed each man to choose his own footing.

  They angled off the pass, climbed into the ravine, and trudged upward towards the Raider Camp.

  Chapter 45 - Quarters of Raider Sergeant Horus

  Alerio sat cleaning his gear. As the junior member of the squad, he was forced to a position almost to the next tent in the row. Across the walkway, First Squad was cleaning their gear. They had been training or rotating to guard posts during the day while Second Squad patrolled. Insults and taunting were bantered back and forth across the walkway as both squads sat cleaning their gear.

  Second Squad’s Lance Corporal Velius had continued on to the command tent. After reporting in, he would return to inspect the equipment. No one wanted to fail inspection as it meant extra guard duty, punishment, or latrine duty, which to everyone, was the worst punishment.

  The latrines were downhill from the weapon’s range and beside the trail leading out of the camp. In the view of most Legionaries, it was the perfect spot. An enemy who attempted to infiltrate the camp from that side of the trail would have to dodge the deep holes, half filled with merda.

  Alerio’s armor, shield, knife, and the pearl handled dagger were cleaned and laid out for inspection. He was honing Private Didacus’ gladius and planned to start on his next. It had been a good first day with the new squad. The heat of the day passed and it was turning into a pleasant evening. Even though he would draw third shift guard duty, Alerio was happy.

  Lance Corporal Ceyx Eolus climbed the hill from the range after a visit to the latrine. The heat of the day had passed and he was preoccupied with planning evening patrols and guard posts for his Light Infantrymen squad. As usual, he ignored the barrage of Heavy Infantrymen’s barbs as he made his way to his tent on the second row.

  He marched stoically between the flying insults and was almost to his tent when a glint from an Infantryman’s display of equipment drew his attention.
Ceyx stopped and his mouth dropped open in surprise and horror. Laying among the armor was a forbidden dagger.

  The gear belonged to the young Infantryman who had defeated two Archers that morning.

  “Where did you buy that?” the Lance Corporal demanded while pointing to the pearl handled dagger.

  “What, this?” Alerio asked as he leaned over and picked up the curved weapon. “I didn’t buy it.”

  “Do you know what the inscription on the blade means?” inquired Eolus.

  “No. I was presented the knife as a reward for killing four assailants,” Alerio bragged as he twirled the dagger, showing off.

  Ceyx stared at the young Legionary with a shocked look on his face. As he opened his mouth to speak, a Signalman ran up.

  “Lance Corporal Eolus. Sergeant Horus wants you at the command tent right away,” he said while still six steps away. “He said drop everything and double time.”

  Ceyx was torn. He needed to finish with the young Legionary but the summons sounded urgent.

  “Put the dagger away,” he ordered. “Hide it. Don’t let anyone see it until we speak.”

  After making sure the Legionary stashed the pearl handled knife out of sight, Lance Corporal Eolus spun and ran for the command tent.

  “Eolus. You’re from the East,” Horus said holding out the scroll. “Can you make sense of this?”

  Eolus took the scroll and unrolled the short piece of parchment. For longer than it took to read it, he gazed at the words.

  ‘Return the Nocte Apibus. Retribution is due. Heed this, the Dulce Pugno.’

  He hands shook as he returned the scroll to the Sergeant.

  “Bring the young Legionary here. The new swordsman with Second Squad,” he said softly as if it were a secret. “Have him bring the dagger.”

  “I don’t understand,” pleaded Horus. “What does Private Sisera have to do with the message?”

  “Please Sergeant. I’ll explain, but I need the Private and his dagger,” Ceyx begged. “It’s important.”

  “Bring me Private Sisera. He’s with Second Squad, Heavy Infantry,” Horus ordered to the duty Signalman. “Ask him to bring the dagger.”

  Corporal Manfredus was at his desk jotting numbers in his log book. As the Century’s treasurer, he was responsible for their burial money, pay and any taxes they collected for the Republic. As well, he was the second most senior NCO in the Legion unit.

  He looked up from the ledger, “What’s with the hush, hush Lance Corporal Eolus? It’s just a message. So, tell us what you know.”

  “If it was just a message, I’d gladly give you my interpretation,” stated Ceyx Eolus. “But its meaning goes deeper and the ramifications deadlier. Please, let’s wait for the Private.”

  Chapter 46 - Nocte Apibus / Night Bees

  “Private Sisera, reporting as ordered,” announced Alerio as he stepped into the command tent.

  “Show them the dagger,” ordered Lance Corporal Eolus.

  Alerio reached into his tunic and took out a package. He unwrapped the soft leather wrapping to reveal an ornate sheath. When he pulled the pearl handled dagger, Eolus held out his hand.

  “This is a Nocte Apis as referred to in the message,” Eolus explained as he displayed the weapon to the occupants of the tent. “None may possess a Night Bee except a brother of the Dulce Pugno, or in laymen’s terms, an assassin of the Sweet Fist.”

  “For this they threaten retribution?” asked Sergeant Horus. “Many of us have bounties on our heads. What’s different about a bounty from the Dulce Pugno?”

  “The bounties on our heads are from alley rats,” Lance Corporal Eolus replied. “They’re too cowardly to attack us themselves. So they offer money hoping someone else will do the killing for them. Sometimes people try but mostly, no one takes them up on the offer.”

  “True enough,” admitted Horus. “The Rebels talk a lot but never actually follow through unless they catch one of us alone. So again, what makes the Sweet Fist’s threat different?”

  “Let me tell you a story,” Eolus said as he handed the long curved knife back to Alerio. “I’m from East of the mountains and the legend is told around the evening fires as a cautionary tale.”

  Chapter 47 - Dulce Pugno / Sweet Fist

  “Centuries ago, a wandering troop of families decided to head West,” began Eolus. “Their lands had been confiscated by the King’s tax collectors. Rather than become destitute, they went searching for a new home. The East was crowded with towns and farms, and also under control of the King. Their only escape was to cross over the Western mountains. Now, few had braved the high peaks, mostly hunters and trappers, but no group with entire families had attempted the passage.”

  “They left the flat land in the Fall after their harvest and lands had been taken,” Eolus explained. “Before leaving, they stole back their own ponies. With twelve wagons of possessions and twelve families including babes in arms, the families rushed for the foothills. The King’s men were furious at the missing ponies and gave chase.”

  “They caught up with the families just as the hills transcended to the steep slopes of the mountains. Two wagons were trampled and the families slaughtered. It was late in the evening and the Captain of the King’s horsemen was pleased with the day’s butchery. He ordered his men to make camp and make merry on the spoils from the dead families. Drunken, loud and bragging the King’s men celebrated late into the evening before laying down to rest.”

  “In the still of early morning, twenty men from the ten remaining families slipped into the horsemen’s camp. They silently slit the throats of all but one of the horsemen. The Captain’s life was spared. However, the tendons and muscles around his knees were sliced with his own knife. His wounds were bandaged and he was tied to a horse. It was the last time he would ride as the injuries made him a cripple. The families placed a note of independence on his chest and the horse was set free to find its way home.”

  “That’s the first of the Dulce Pugno?” ventured Corporal Manfredus.

  “Not as we know them today,” Eolus said. “The Captain’s pearl handled knife was presented to the youngest of the family’s raiders. After stopping their tormentors, the families climbed higher into the mountains. Weeks later, they were lost in the snow of the high peaks. Many had died, yet the survivors pushed on. There was no guide, no path, just an unbroken trail of snow. The lead wagon climbed a steep rise and many of the members complained while pointing to a flatter stretch. By then, the lead wagon had reached the top of the rise and its herder yelled back that the way was flat. Because they had come so far together, the other families made the steep climb.”

  “Desperation set in after a week of struggling across the plateau. The mountains were closing in on both sides and the trees thinned. Little game could be found and hunger was piled on top of their many woes. Yet they pushed on.”

  “The land seemed to rise and they feared another mountain peak to circle. But, it proved worse. The mountains closed in and they were stopped by a wall of snow. Many fell to the cold, white ground in exhaustion and despair. Only the hardest of the families rose again.”

  “It was decided to send a group of their youngest and strongest over the snowy barricade. In the morning, as small fires, barely alive enough to fend off the cold, glowed, five young men and three women climbed from the camp. The last the families saw were the eight vanishing over the edge. Those left behind huddled and waited for death to claim them.”

  “A day later, fifteen fish fell from the sky. Many called to the gods in thanks for the gifts of food. But it wasn’t the gods, unless you were a believer. It was the young people. One made the climb down the snow wall and told the tale of a wondrous mountain valley.”

  “They rigged lines of cloth and one by one, the families deserted their wagons and scaled the wall. Some fell, being too weak to go on but most scrambled or were pulled up the face of the snow cliff. On the other side of the blockade of snow, the sun shone across a broad valley. A light
blanket of snow lay from end to end. A wide creek flowed down the center, trees grew in abundance giving promise of good soil, and game tracks were obvious even from the heights of the pass.”

  “Trees were downed and shelters constructed. Between the wild game and abundant fish, starvation was averted. During the long first Winter, all of the men who had participated in the raid told their stories and explained the lessens they learned while defending the families. The young people listened and were in awe of the Captain’s pearl handled knife when it was displayed.”

  “In the Spring, as the snow melted and plants blossomed, swarms of bees awakened from hibernation. Their hives were discovered and the families collected the honey. Soon they had so much, they stopped collecting it. But, they began to move queen bees to domestic hives so the families could attend to the hives. The families began to call their new home the Golden Valley.”

  “The next Spring, a group was sent forth with rough clay jars of honey. Not knowing any other direction, they headed down to the East and the King’s land. In the first two villages, they exchanged honey for seeds. Quickly, they returned to the Golden Valley. Fields were planted and crops grown. Another Winter passed and in the Spring, another trading party was organized. They were at the second village when a patrol of King’s men caught them. Along with their jars of honey, the four men were taken to the see the King.”

  “Now the Queen and King had two daughters and a taste for the finer things in life. But this was centuries ago and securing finer things was difficult. It was before the days of trading between regions so the King and Queen developed the habit of taking the best from their kingdom. The fattest livestock for their herds and coops, the hardiest of grains for their bread and the handsomest young men for their personal guard. All that was superior, the royal family took for their own. When the Queen tasted the captured honey, she demanded her husband claim all the honey from the Golden Valley.”