“One of the men was released to deliver the King’s proclamation. It was a long march through the mountains and back. In the meantime, the King grew tired of feeding and housing the three captives. As they were related to the men who had crippled his Captain, a cousin of the royal family, the King deemed them outlaws and hanged the three.”
“Later in the year, four wagons of honey rolled into the royal stockade. When asked about the three captives, the men and women escorting the honey were hanged. All except one man. He was sent back to the mountains with the King’s demand for more of the exquisite honey.”
“That winter, the original family raiders gathered. Again they spoke of their experiences and the lessens they learned defending the families against the horsemen. While they analyzed their tactics and taught the best to their young men, a blacksmith smelted iron and added carbon to the mix. He hammered and folded the hot metal, and hammered and folded some more, until the blades were steel. Using the Captain’s curved blade as a guide, he duplicated it many times over. Families dug through their possessions and produced pearls which were embedded in the handles. These were the first Night Bees.”
“Before spring, while frost still lay upon the fields, ten men snaked down the mountain. They traveled by night and lay hidden during the day. At the royal stockade, they didn’t go to the gate and announce themselves. Rather, they scaled the wall at night.”
“The King and Queen were supping with their daughters. Fat foul lay upon the table and delicate wine filled their goblets. Servants hovered at their elbows, salivating and hungry, yet ready to fulfill any of the royal wishes. As the King burped, ten men entered the royal hall. While the servants backed away, ten men with scarves wrapped around their faces and welding exactly the same curved blade, slit the royal throats. Honey was poured over the royal bodies. After finishing dispatching the royal family, the assassins melted into the night.”
“Over the Centuries, rich people have hired the Dulce Pugno to solve problems,” Eolus said. “In cases where the assassins were killed, the Nocte Apibus were returned to the Golden Valley. A few men though to keep a Nocte Apis as a trophy. All the trophy collectors were killed. You ask why their threat is different from a bounty offered by a gang of thugs?”
Lance Corporal Eolus paused and held out his palm for the curved dagger. Alerio lay the weapon in the outstretched hand.
“Because to have this,” Eolus turned the weapon over so light reflected off the blade. He then exhibited the Nocte Apis to everyone in the room before saying, “To possess this, is to be next in line for centuries of honor killings by the Dulce Pugno.”
Everyone watched as Eolus gently presented the knife to Alerio as if it were a snake likely to come to life and strike.
“Hold on,” Sergeant Horus ordered as he reached for the scroll. He snatched it from his desk and unrolled the parchment. “The message says Nocte Apibus. There’s more than one missing?” he asked.
Alerio coughed to clear his throat and said, “There are three more. The Centurion and Sergeant at the Harbor Post and a Lance Corporal of the Guard all have one.”
Horus sat down heavily in his field chair. “Where is Centurion Stylianus?” he asked. “I’d like an officer in on this.”
“He’s still in the trading town,” Corporal Manfredus said. “Working his contacts for information about the Rebels.”
“Lance Corporal Eolus. Thank you for the information. You are dismissed. There’s nothing the rest of us can do tonight,” Horus stated. “Sisera. You’re bunking in here. Lance Corporal Velius, I want guards around this tent until morning. Have the first shift bring his gear. We’ll sort this out tomorrow.”
In the early morning while the moon was still visible in the western sky, the guards outside the tent issued a challenge. Moments later, a Scout was ushered into the command tent. He was met by four drawn Gladii.
“Stand down,” ordered Sergeant Horus. He recognized the Scout. While shoving his sword into its sheath, he demanded, “Report.”
Manfredus, Alerio and the Duty Signalman also put away their blades.
“Centurion Stylianus has been taken,” the Scout announced. “We were gathering information. Something has the Rebels stirred up so we split up to cover more ground. When Centurion Stylianus didn’t show at the appointed time, I waited ‘til sundown. When he still didn’t report in, I started asking around.”
“What do you mean, taken?” Horus asked softly. The veins in his neck were budging and his eye was twitching yet he remained otherwise calm.
“At the stables, I learned five Rebel sympathizers had rented ponies. They had Centurion Stylianus with them,” the Scout reported. “The stableman said they headed out on the road towards Crotone. I figured you’d want to know. At this point, they have half the night’s head start.”
“Guard,” Horus called out. When a sentry stuck his head in the tent, Horus ordered, “I want a man on the dock. As soon as Lance Corporal Remigius returns bring him directly to me. Go.”
“Do you think the Dulce Pugno have something to do with them taking our Officer?” asked Corporal Manfredus.
“I don’t see a connection,” admitted the Sergeant.
“There might be,” Alerio ventured. “When I killed the assassins, they were supporting a Rebel attack on our supplies. If the Rebel’s hired the Dulce Pugno for the killing, it would explain the connection.”
“And the mission failed,” surmised Corporal Manfredus. “Now the Sweet Fist want their Night Bees back and some payback. They’re leaning on the Rebels for a solution.”
“And you think Centurion Stylianus was taken as a bargaining chip?” asked Horus.
“Unless there’s another explanation,” Manfredus replied.
The Sergeant sent the Signalman to fetch Lance Corporal Ceyx Eolus and his gear. Later, Eolus shouldered his way into the tent and set his armor down in a corner.
“You seem to know more about this Night Bee stuff than anybody else,” Horus explained to the Light Infantryman. “I may require your advice.”
“Whatever you need Sergeant,” Eolus assured the NCO as he sat on the ground beside Alerio.
Sergeant Horus paced until dawn. His rapid strolling bothered Manfredus so much the Corporal left the command tent to check on the Raider Camp. While Ceyx Eolus and Alerio Sisera were restricted to the tent, dawn gave the Signalman an excuse to leave. He stepped outside and began his vigil of the team on the peak with the sighting scope.
Chapter 48 - A Troubling Report
The Sun was well over the horizon when Lance Corporal Remigius walked into the command tent. His eyes were red rimmed from lack of sleep and he stunk of fish.
“Sergeant. You wanted to see me?” he asked with a salute that seemed out of place with his rough fisherman’s clothing.
“Centurion Stylianus has been kidnapped,” Horus stated. “Any idea where he was taken?”
“No idea Sergeant,” the Lance Corporal replied. “But, Speckled Pheasant has gone to ground. He’s hold up in a warehouse and has the place surrounded by thugs.”
“It’s as good an idea as any for where they’ve taken our Centurion,” Horus said. “What about the disagreement between the Rebel Captain and his Lieutenants? Anything come of that?”
“Everyone’s pretty tight lipped about the issue,” Remigius admitted. “But, it concerns something they lost. They’ve been asking a lot of obscure questions but none that’ll give us a clue to what they’re looking for.”
“I hate to do this to you and your crew,” the Sergeant said as he grabbed his armor. “But Private Sisera, Lance Corporal Eolus, and I need to get to the Harbor Transfer Post.”
“As a great sailor once said,” Remigius exclaimed. “Not high winds, or heavy swells, nor lack of sleep, shall keep the weary Mariner on shore when duty calls.”
“What great sailor said that?” Horus asked.
“Me,” Remigius replied with a smile.
“Who said you were a great sailor?” the Se
rgeant challenged.
“You Sergeant. Because I’ll be navigating with one eye closed,” the Lance Corporal answered as he yawned, “If I’m not great, you’ll be steering the fishing boat yourself.”
“Lance Corporal Remigius,” pronounced the Sergeant. “Have I told you lately, you are a great sailor.”
“Why, I’m blushing,” Remigius replied. “Thank you, Sergeant Horus. Shall we go?”
Chapter 49 - The Harbor Transfer Post
Remigius masterfully tacked the fishing boat into the wind until noon. Around midday, the wind shifted and the craft went from a time killing zigzag and began running with the wind. Even so, the vessel wasn’t a sloop or a yacht, it was a wide beamed working vessel. It took hours to reach their destination.
The sun had long ago set when the lights of the Harbor of Crotone appeared.
“As close to the Legion Post as you can get us,” Horus reminded the pilot.
“I’ll run her up beside the old pier the training instructors use,” replied Remigius.
It seemed as if the lights from the harbor town barely moved as they sailed by the lighted buildings and the ends of the big docks. Eventually, Remigius shoved the rudder over hard and the fishing boat leaned until water splashed over the gunwale. Minutes later, the boat shimmied as it ground on the sandy bottom. Then, it jerked to a stop.
Horus, Alerio, and Eolus jumped to the pier and raced towards the Legion Transfer Post.
Remigius collapsed on the rudder while Lance Corporal Wido and Private Ireneus dove into the water. Once they had rocked the boat enough to refloat it. They secured the boat and ran off to join their Sergeant at the Post. Remigius stayed on board to catch up on his sleep.
Chapter 50 - Centurion Quarters at the Transfer Post
A Doctor and a Medic were bent over the Centurion. While they sewed, he swore and thundered. Horus, Alerio, and Eolus heard the Officer as a bandaged Corporal Thornernus escorted them towards the tent.
“They rushed the guards on the perimeter,” Thornernus explained as he ushered them towards the Centurion’s quarters. “At first I thought it an all-out attack. But they made straight away for the NCOs’ and Officer’s tents.”
“How’s the leg?” Horus inquired pointing to the field dressing around the Corporal’s thigh.
“Five of them, it wasn’t a fair fight,” the burley NCO replied with a smile. “Poor lads, next time they’ll know not to mess with a Legion Corporal.” He pivoted and shoved aside the tent flap. Speaking towards the officer’s bed, Thornernus announced, “Sir, Sergeant Horus may have information about the attack.”
An arm appeared between the Doctor and the Medic. The Medic was shoved aside and the Centurion’s raised his head.
“Horus. Talk to me,” demanded the wounded Centurion.
“Alerio. Hand me the Nocte Apis,” the Sergeant ordered. Once he held the curved knife, he showed it to the Centurion and explained, “They were looking for this.”
The Centurion shook his head to focus as the Doctor pulled a stitch tighter. After inhaling a ragged breath, the Officer replied, “I have one as well. It’s in my trunk. Are you telling me the attackers were looking for a perfututum knife?”
“It’s a symbol of an assassin’s sect called the Dulce Pugno,” Horus related. “They are very possessive about their knives. In your own words sir, anyone holding a Nocte Apis is perfututum.”
“Well the attackers weren’t trained assassins,” the Centurion observed. “They were barely efficient at all. Well, except for the one who sliced my chest open. If Corporal Thornernus hadn’t interceded, they’d have done real damage.”
“You handled yourself well, sir,” Corporal Thornernus added. Everyone understood a little sucking up wouldn’t hurt when the next promotion board convened.
“Those weren’t the Dulce Pugno,” Horus explained. “They were Rebels commanded by Speckled Pheasant. That leads me to another issue. Centurion Stylianus had been taken by the Rebels. I believe the Rebels hired the assassins and are feeling pressure from the Dulce Pugno to get the four Nocte Apibus back. I think they’ll approach us to trade Centurion Stylianus for the knives.”
“What’s wrong with that?” challenged the Centurion.
“If we bargain once for a hostage, the Rebels will expect us to do it again,” Sergeant Horus replied. “It’ll open a flood gate for kidnappings and demands.”
“Well-spoken Sergeant,” the Centurion said. “What’s your plan to retrieve Stylianus and to appease the Dulce Pugno. And, to punish the Rebels.”
“First I need to collect all the Night Bees,” Horus said listing the steps. “Then, I’ll need two squads of Heavy Infantry and.” The Sergeant stopped and looked around at Lance Corporal Eolus, “How long to sneak into the warehouse and secure the Centurion. You’ll need to guard him until the heavies arrive and butcher the Rebels?”
“Private Sisera and I will need time to slip in and secure the Centurion,” Eolus replied. “We’ll enter, pull the officer to a defensive location, and guard him. It’ll be close once we stir up the Rebels. Don’t be late Sergeant.”
Alerio was shocked to be included in the rescue. He’d expected to be among the Heavy Infantrymen, but to be part of the entry team was a complete surprise. It apparently caught Horus off guard as well.
“Why Private Sisera?” asked the Sergeant. “Wouldn’t you rather have a team of Light Infantrymen?”
“It’s going to be bloody gladius work in the warehouse,” Eolus admitted. “Sure, I’d like a squad with me but only two men can slip in silently. Once it gets hot, I’ll need a swordsman with me.”
Chapter 51 - Preparation, The Hallmark of Legion Raiders
Alerio followed Ceyx Eolus to the armory. When the Armorer bulked at Ceyx’s request, Lance Corporal Eolus reached across the counter, grabbed the man, and shoved his chin into the wooden counter top.
“Armorer. My Centurion is being held captive,” Ceyx said between clinched teeth. “Your Centurion is wounded and being treated by a Doctor. Assassins are hunting your Sergeant and a Lance Corporal of the Guard. I’ve had an extremely long day and I still have to pay a social call on a warehouse full of blood thirsty Rebels.”
The Armorer mumbled something, but Ceyx wasn’t done. “All I require is for you to tool together two sword belts so they fit the broad back of Private Sisera,” he said. “I haven’t the time to run over and ask Corporal Thornernus to come and ask you nicely. He’s rather busy organizing two squads of Heavy Infantry. So, will you make the rig? Or do I knock your teeth out and go find someone more willing to help?”
Despite the budging arms and the weathered hands on the big man, the Armorer seemed intimated by the lean, Light Infantryman. ‘Was it the overwhelming force and the steady flow of words?’ pondered Alerio, ‘Or was the man convinced once he heard the entirety of the situation?’
He didn’t have time to think further about the Armorer’s motivation. Alerio was dragged to the back of the tent. While standing in the midst of hanging leather and metal armor pieces, shields, straps and belts of all sorts, the Armorer snatched sword belts of different sizes and shapes and piled them at Alerio’s feet.
When he produced a short, curved knife, Alerio was worried for a second. But the knife wasn’t for him. The Armorer laid belts over Alerio’s shoulders, adjusted them then carried the belts to a work bench. There, he sliced off sections until the straight edges of the belts had curves and notches.
After another fitting, the Armorer pounded in rivets to permanently join the two sword belts. When he finished, he slid two gladii in the sheaths and held up the finished cross harness.
“I don’t see a reason for carrying two gladii,” he said as he fitted it over Alerio’s shoulders. “You can only use one at a time.”
The hilts hovered just above Alerio shoulder blades. After knotting a strap across his chest to secure the harness, Alerio reached back and easily drew both swords. He carefully inspected the blades.
“They’re fresh
from the metalworkers,” the Armorer said with pride. “You’ll not find a ding or a rough spot on those blades.”
Alerio whipped both blades in a circle before aiming the tips over his shoulders. One went in on the first attempt. Ceyx stepped up and helped guide the other into its sheath.
“Practice putting them away later,” the Scout said. “We’ve got business in town.”
Private Ireneus met them outside the Armory. He had two dark colored, hooded cloaks draped over an arm.
“Wido is scouting the warehouse,” he said as he placed a cloak over Eolus’ shoulders. “We’ll met up with him three blocks from the building.”
He laid the second cloak over Alerio’s shoulders and commented, “A duel rig. Haven’t seen anything like that before. Don’t see the reason. You can only use one gladius at a time.”
Private Alerio and Lance Corporal Eolus jogged after Private Ireneus. The three passed two squads of Heavy Infantrymen. As the left stomp, left stomp faded, they swept through the main gate and flipped up their hoods.
Chapter 52 - Three Blocks Out
“It’s three blocks from here,” Lance Corporal Wido explained. “They’ve placed guards at the entrances, the corners of the warehouse, and on the roof patio.”
“Do we fight our way in?” asked Alerio.
“Spoken like a true Heavy Infantryman,” Wido teased. “No. The roof patio has an interior ladder. That means there’s a landing above the warehouse floor. We don’t know if it’s a complete floor or just a landing. In either case, it’s your best chance of gaining entry and surprising the Rebels.”
“And how, pray tell Lance Corporal Wido, do we get to the upper floor? Fly?” asked Ceyx.
“There’s a street vender booth at the southwest corner,” Wido explained. “The booth has a substantial roof built over the alley. From the roof, you can reach where the clay bricks are set back a course. Not much foot room but it’s doable.”
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