She lurched away from him taking great offense, “That, sir, is an extremely private matter.”
“Please madam, I would like to know in case the gods are speaking to me and I’m simply not listening. I’m sure there is a special place in Hades’ realm reserved for those who ignore what the gods command. I don’t wish to go there at the end of my days.”
The woman’s look softened as she stepped closer once more. “Just the other day, Vesta warned me a person of unnatural birth might seek to corrupt our faith. Are you that individual, Senator?”
This time it was Hastelloy’s turn to project an air of great offense. “Certainly not! I only seek to grow in my faith, not impede upon yours.”
The two shared an awkward silence before Tomal stepped to the middle of the courtyard and introduced the evening’s entertainment. Without further ado, a graceful yet muscular man wearing only a loin cloth strutted into the middle and was met by a scantly clothed woman with flowing dark hair and the hard body of a dancer.
The two circled each other in erotic dance as the stringed music grew in pitch and ferocity. At the climax of the crescendo the man thrust the woman into the air and an impressive exhibition of strength and ballet ensued. The two were soon joined by a dozen more male and female dancers. One by one, articles of clothing were removed during the course of the dance and eventually the artistic display degraded into a pornographic exhibition that encouraged the party goers to join.
The orgy was well underway when Tomal rejoined Hastelloy and the Vestalis Maximus away from the action. “Did you enjoy the performance?”
“I did indeed,” the priestess complemented. “I do believe I will take my leave of the festivities now as a seventy year old virgin will not be useful from here on out.”
“Indeed,” Tomal said as he escorted the dignified woman to the door. “I commend your faith and strength of will. I couldn’t go without sex for even a few days, let alone an entire life time.”
“It is made easy for the Vestals,” she said on her way out the door. “Violating the vow of chastity carries a sentence of being buried alive.”
When the priestess was out of sight Tomal shut the door and turned to Hastelloy, “I think I’d still give in.”
Hastelloy laughed and clapped Tomal on the shoulder. “There’s not a doubt in my mind that you would.”
Tomal moved to rejoin the party but Hastelloy tightened his grip to keep him in place. “We need to talk about business first. Gaius Julius Caesar is growing in power, skill and ambition. Plus he possesses a remarkable ability to inspire loyalty in his men. These traits added to the vast fortune he is amassing in the Gailic wars up north make him a powerful man.”
“Yes they do,” Tomal agreed. “What does that have to do with me?”
“His influence has grown to the point I need someone close to him. The lineage of the name you use, Marcus Antonius, makes you a second cousin to Caesar and our best inroad to his inner circle.”
“That’s fine. I can invite his family to the next party to lay the groundwork,” Tomal suggested.
“I’m afraid that won’t do. We need to reach the man himself, not just his wife, sisters and nephews. I need you to join his army up north.”
“I will do no such thing,” Tomal protested. “You want me to give up everything that I own.” Tomal gestured wide with his arms. “All this to go live under a cold, bug infested tent in the middle of nowhere. Are you out of your mind?”
Hastelloy caught Gallono’s attention and beckoned him to join the discussion with a subtle nod.
Tomal saw the additional muscle coming and declared his resolve. “I don’t care what you say or do, I will not go live in the forest like some animal.”
Hastelloy let slip a slight grin of amusement. “Tomal, I’m not going to do or say anything. I am simply not going to do something.”
The furrowed brow clearly showed Tomal was not following the discussion.
“I am not going to pay the latest collection notice from your creditors or any others going forward,” Hastelloy instructed. “You owe over five million sesterces to some very shady characters. They will be the ones to run you out of this city, not me.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” Tomal squeaked, knowing full well he was a dead man without Hastelloy’s patronage.
“Look on the bright side, Tomal. There is a lot of money to be made in the wars up north. You have a strong military record and will probably be granted a high level command in Caesar’s legions. You’ll be entitled to a portion of the plunder the men under your command take.”
“Just think how nice it’ll be returning to Rome as Caesar’s wealthy right hand man,” Gallono added. “All the respect it will carry, and your wealth might actually be for real rather than borrowed.”
Tomal was still not convinced. “Why me? Why don’t you send this meat head?” gesturing to Gallono. “He sits around all day and accomplishes nothing. He’s worthless here unless some brainless thug work needs doing. At least I’ve cultivated complex social connections we can use.”
Hastelloy stepped between the two men before it came to blows. “Commander Gallono’s purpose is none of your concern. You will leave to go north tomorrow. Now go enjoy your farewell party, and send Tonwen and Valnor out. We’re leaving.”
Tomal pounded off in a huff, ready to breath fire. With him out of ear shot Gallono asked of his captain. “What is my purpose right now?”
Hastelloy turned to face his first officer. “Patience Gallono, all the pieces are still moving into position.”
“They’d better hurry the hell up because there is truth in what Tomal just said and it doesn’t sit well with me.”
On the walk back to his villa, Hastelloy moved along side Valnor.
“I had a disturbing conversation with the head priestess of the college of Vestals. Something in what she said concerns me so I need you to befriend and get close to at least one of the Vestals.”
“Why me,” Valnor asked nervously.
“Because you still remain dedicated to your wife and will therefore be easier for a Vestal to befriend since you’ll pose no temptation to break her vow of chastity. Can you do this?”
The apprehensive ensign gave a hesitant nod.
Hastelloy could easily see he needed to bolster the young man’s confidence. “Valnor, your life force has been around now for almost two thousand years. It’s time you step out of your protective cocoon and start embracing risks and responsibility. You are more than ready, and I’m giving you free reign on this assignment. There will be no meddling or supervision on my part.”
Valnor took in a deep breath, straightened his posture as a visible sign of him rising to the challenge, “I won’t let you down.”
Hastelloy put his arm around the young man and gave him a gentle shake, “I know.”
Gallono glanced back with a frustrated look. Everyone had something to do except him.
Chapter 10: Going in Heavy
A procession of three desert camouflage Humvees roared through the crowded streets of Cairo city center. The intimidating size of the vehicles was certainly a factor in other cars giving them a wide birth, but most of the motivation came from the sight of a TOW anti-tank rocket launcher mounted on top of the lead vehicle. Mark sat in the passenger seat of the lead Humvee and navigated the caravan into a private warehouse district.
“You’re trespassing on private property,” the Egyptian army Colonel protested from the back bench. “And you’re outside the scope of operations granted you in this country.”
Mark looked back at the man nestled among six SEAL team members decked out in full combat armor and carrying heavy assault rifles with the safeties off. Somehow the Colonel looked rather small, and the disregarding look from Mark let the man know how valued his input was on the matter. The Colonel got the message and sank back behind the broad shoulders of the men crammed in next to him and meekly went with the flow.
“The target entrance is dead ahead,” Mark sa
id while taking a cursory look around the area. On the surface everything was consistent with your typical industrial park. A dozen large warehouse structures dominated the landscape, except for the small brick structure that lay dead ahead. The building couldn’t have been more than a thousand square feet in size, and there were no windows or loading docks. The only distinguishing feature was a single steel door facing the main street.
Mark picked up his communication radio and issued orders to the headsets worn by each soldier. “We’re going in heavy.”
The two trailing vehicles accelerated to form up on either side of the lead Humvee. All three roared to a stop in front of the building’s single door and soldiers poured out of the vehicles from every point of exit: left, right, back hatch, and even the roof portal. A perimeter was formed amid the gawking stares of everyone in the office park trying to go about the usual day.
Four men brandished a battering ram and hit the front door with everything they had. The door did not even flinch upon impact, and the only evidence to the devastating blow was a black gash. Mark drew confidence from their progress until he realized it was just a smudge from the battering ram’s black paint.
The men delivered six more full force blows to the door which yielded the same result; a door still standing with barely a scratch on it.
Mark looked at the demolitions engineer. “Your turn.”
“Yes sir,” the man beamed and then proceeded to outline the door with C4 explosives and ran the detonation cords out into the street. The rest of the SEAL team and vehicles immediately followed.
“Fire in the hole,” Mark heard just before he plunged both index fingers into his ears and took cover behind the nearest Humvee. Moments later his ears rung and his body ached from the concussion of an explosion.
Mark got back to his feet and once again looked toward the small building expecting to see a gaping hole where the front door once stood. Instead he found the door still standing, looking none the worse for wear. The wooden door frame and surrounding brick facade were blown to pieces and revealed a series of steel bars running through the door and into the walls, ceiling and floor.
“Damn, that was my best shot,” the demolitions engineer admitted.
“Not me,” the heavy weapons operator boasted. The man climbed aboard the lead Humvee and popped his head out the portal in the roof to man the TOW rocket launcher. Mark approved whole heartedly of the plan since the weapon was designed to penetrate tank armor over a meter thick.
“Fire in the hole,” the HWO bellowed with all the glee of a five year old playing with his new Christmas toy. The missile leapt away from the barrel, slammed into the door with a thunderous bang, but no explosion. Mark looked at the damage and was well pleased. The armor piercing round punched a three foot diameter hole in the door that would allow an assault team member to enter and unlock it from within.
“Should I fire another?” the HWO asked from on high.
“No, that’ll do. There’s no reason to use another $20,000 round just so we don’t have to bend over to get through the opening,” Mark laughed.
Chapter 11: Alesia
“Your relationship with Tomal reminds me of an old saying,” Dr. Holmes told his patient. “One who serves willingly is worth ten who are forced to serve.”
“Well said,” Hastelloy responded while allowing a thin, introspective scowl to unfurl across his lips. “With no money coming in and angry creditors nipping at his heels, Tomal had no choice but to leave Rome for the northern territories. His obedience was forced so his service for our cause of returning the Nexus safely home was at best flimsy.”
“So did he do as ordered and join Caesar’s army?” Jeffrey asked.
“Oh yes.”
“But he probably lacked enthusiasm in the assignment and didn’t accomplish much I suppose.”
Hastelloy shook his head, “Quite the contrary. He joined Caesar’s army at a time of extreme peril for the Republic. The Gauls were in open rebellion and threatening the northern borders. The only obstacle standing between them and the city of Rome was Caesar’s men, and they were on the verge of a crushing defeat. The fate of the Roman Republic we worked so hard stimulating into the most advanced society on the planet was on the verge of collapse. Tomal did Rome great service up north, but at great cost to our cause.
“Sounds like he saved all your hard work from being torn apart by invading barbarians from the north,” Jeffrey countered.
“Yes, but he also found another cause he was all too willing to serve I’m afraid,” Hastelloy said while settling back into his chair to continue his tale.
**********
Tomal stood atop the earthen works constructed around the settlement of Alesia. The Gauls occupied a stout fortress at the peak of a formidable hill. At Tomal’s suggestion, Caesar chose to lay siege rather than initiate a costly and unnecessary engagement. The logic was simple. 80,000 soldiers plus civilians would run out of food and water in short order and be forced to attack the Roman fortified lines rather than the Romans smashing into theirs.
A continuous fifteen foot high wall with watch towers placed every quarter mile reached ten miles in length to completely surround the settlement. Not content with just a wall, Caesar ordered two trenches ten feet deep and fifteen feet wide dug in front of the walls. The enemy had launched several attacks on the construction crews, but Tomal’s skillful command of the cavalry divisions turned them back.
There was one part of the siege that didn’t go according to plan however. A small group of enemy cavalry managed to charge through the lines. Only a few dozen escaped, but they would be back with every able bodied man in the surrounding countryside to try and relieve the besieged army.
A set of outward facing fortifications were hastily erected by the Romans, but would not hold against the second army of nearly 60,000 men that approached. Caesar’s men were now surrounded and outnumbered two to one and in very real danger of being annihilated.
Anticipating the extra man power, the trapped army now moved to engage the Roman lines at focused points along the fortifications. One such point was directly in front of Tomal. The enemy operated in two-man teams. One stood over them both with shields deflecting arrows while the other used a shovel to fill in the trenches.
The Gauls were taking casualties as the Roman archers were well trained, but the job was getting done. The trenches were leveled out at a single point and the workers pulled back.
“Form a phalanx at that point on the wall where the trenches are now flat. They’ll try and press through there,” Tomal ordered as he pointed to the desired location with his sword in hand.
The veterans of Caesar’s army knew their business and went about forming a line of interlocking shields sixteen men deep with spears at the ready. The strength of a phalanx came from organization and discipline. As long as no soldier panicked and ran away to open a hole, the wall of shields and spears was nearly impossible to break.
In the distance Tomal spotted a brewing storm of dust moving quickly towards the wall. A closer look revealed hundreds of bare back horses led by a few dozen riders. Behind them was a sea of men charging the wall at a quick jog.
“Double the depth and brace for cavalry,” Tomal ordered.
The reserve troops moved up to make each line of the phalanx formation thirty two men deep. In unison the second and third row of soldiers dropped the butt of their spears to the ground and braced it with their back foot while the first man held his curved body length shield in place. The effect was a wall of armor with spears sticking out at a thirty degree angle waiting to impale anything unfortunate enough to come near.
The attacking horses broke into a full charge a hundred feet from the wall and slammed straight into the wooden barrier. The first two rows died instantly when they collided with the solid wall at a full sprint, but the impact and weight of the bodies succeeded in toppling the fortification to the ground. The remaining horses hurdled their dead brethren and charged headlong into the
awaiting phalanx.
The horse charge hit the Roman line like a thousand sledge hammers swung in unison. A thunderous clatter of screeching metal and snapping wood nearly drowned out the sickening squeals of the mortally wounded animals. It was the single most impressive sight Tomal ever witnessed. The concussion wave of initial impact with the line rippled backward through the stacked men until the last soldier felt the blow. Then the wall of bodies actually slid backwards several feet. Not by men walking or stumbling backwards, but literally skidding their dug in heels across the dirt as the weight of the horse charge was absorbed.
When only the death wails of several hundred impaled horses remained in the air, Tomal blew three long blasts into the whistle around his neck. Captains within the phalanx began shouting orders and in unison the first three men in the formation stepped to the side and backed their way to the end of the line for a much deserved rest.
The soldier fourth in line stepped up and locked his shield in place with the others. A few injured men with broken or dislocated limbs were carried out, but for the most part the formation looked as if nothing even happened, other than the chest high and twenty foot deep pile of dead horses in front of them that is.
Gaelic foot soldiers started coming through the wide breach in the wall about thirty seconds later. Under heavy archery fire, they lugged the dead horses out of the way to allow a full infantry charge, and charge they did.
A solid mass of bodies smashed into the array of Roman shields. A mighty war cry came up from the phalanx as the second row of men thrust their spears forward, and when the spears broke they used their blades. Every five minutes Tomal blew his whistle one time, telling the man in front to step aside and fall back to let the second man take over with his shield. All the while archers peppered the Gauls with razor sharp death from above.
Slowly, with every blow of the whistle, the phalanx was pushed back from the wall allowing more enemy soldiers to come through. Every time the line widened Tomal had to thin the depth of the phalanx. The loss of life was severe for the Gauls, but their weight of numbers was threatening to overrun the Roman line. It was only a matter of time, and to make matters worse a whole other army was approaching their rear.
Centurion's Rise Page 6