Centurion's Rise

by Henrikson, Mark

  Hastelloy had his flagmen signal for the left and right flanks of his formation to set sail and draw the line out farther to create more separation for his ships to maneuver. Tomal responded in kind by sending his wings out wide to prevent any kind of envelopment maneuver. The center continued sailing forward at flank speed while an abnormally large contingent of ships was held in reserve.

  “Why do you think he’s choosing to keep so many vessels out of the engagement,” Valnor asked.

  “I don’t think choice has anything to do with it. I’m quite certain the queen of queens insists on remaining out of the fighting along with an adequate protection force just in case,” Hastelloy responded.

  “Why would she hamstring her own attack force like that?”.

  Hastelloy turned away from the action to stare directly into Valnor’s doubting eyes and made a declaration of fact, “Because at her core she’s a selfish coward who manipulates others into fighting her battles.”

  “That’s a bold assumption,” Valnor challenged.

  “Examine the evidence,” Hastelloy said as he returned his line of sight back to the sea. “She married her brother to get a foothold in power. Next, she seduced Julius Caesar to kick the husband out of power leaving her as the sole ruler with the backing of Rome. When her Roman sponsor died she seduced the next Roman in line to defend her power base. Tomal’s weakness for fine things and lust for power made him the perfect target for her considerable charms.”

  “When this battle goes bad for them,” Hastelloy went on, “she’ll pounce on the first opportunity to save her own skin and flee. It’s in her nature because above all else, she’s a survivor.”

  Valnor said nothing further and simply chose to look on with grim anticipation as the central cluster of ships came into range of each other’s catapults and archers. The air about them hummed with the thrum of heavy projectiles launched by catapults and the soft hiss of arrows sent on their way by archers.

  The smaller ships, for the most part, managed to dart in and out of the larger ships harassing them with close quarters arrow barrages. Then before the target could orientate itself to give an adequate response, the fast little ships sped away to safety once more. Little damage was done to the enemy vessels themselves, but the deck and oar crews took casualties with every pass.

  Eventually some of the grappling irons on Tomal’s ships connected with their prey. Like a spider moving in to consume a moth captured in its web, the deck crews pulled the little ships alongside for boarding. Six of Hastelloy’s ships were already in the process of being taken over, while another two were getting hauled in.

  “Our archers aren’t able to do enough damage,” Valnor cried out. “One by one they’re going to grab hold of our ships and take them over.”

  “The beauty of a grappling iron is it imbeds into an enemy ship so deep it can’t be removed without considerable effort,” Hastelloy said in a level tone that gave no hint of anxiety.

  “Exactly,” Valnor hollered. “Our ships can’t get away once the grapples hit.”

  “Why would we want them to get away when it gives us the perfect opportunity to destroy the enemy?” Hastelloy asked.

  Valnor looked closer at the situation. It was then that he noticed the six ensnared ships were hanging unusually low in the water, which caused the larger vessels to list noticeable to the side. Soon water rushed over the bows of the smaller ships and the sea began pulling the vessels to the bottom in earnest.

  The unbreakable embrace the grappling iron created between the attacking and sinking ship pulled the larger vessel under the waves as well. Hastelloy and Valnor looked on as six of the mighty Quinquereme capsized and soon vanished beneath the waves. A few minutes later another was pulled under, but the last managed to detach the grapple in time to allow the smaller suicidal ship to reach bottom alone.

  “There, I think that’ll make the other ships abandon that particular assault technique, don’t you?” Hastelloy asked with a satisfied smile. “That leaves them with trying to ram our ships or shower us with arrows. Both will be difficult considering our speed and maneuverability advantage.”

  As the hours passed, Tomal’s ships grew slower and slower in the water as their crews were utterly decimated by the fast moving archery strikes. The task would have been considerably more difficult had the rest of Tomal’s fleet chosen to engage. To their detriment; however, they chose to hang back and protect the queen.

  The large reserve fleet did accomplish the objective of preventing Hastelloy from pressing in to finish the now rather lethargic target ships. Cleopatra was a touch braver than he gave her credit, either that or she still felt too threatened to make an escape. Hastelloy decided to test which was the case.

  When Hastelloy felt a shift in the late summer wind toward the west, favoring the sails of Cleopatra’s ships, he issued an unlikely order. He sent his ships engaged in the center toward the north and south flanks to definitively turn the tides of battle in those locations.

  “What are you doing? That’s going to open our center,” Valnor shouted. “You’re giving those reinforcements the perfect opportunity to join the fight.”

  “Remember our enemy,” Hastelloy countered. “I’m giving her the perfect opportunity to escape.”

  It took only minutes before the sails of Cleopatra’s ships rose and filled with the strong westward wind at their backs. Her fifty ships rushed through the recently vacated center and into the open sea beyond. They never fired a shot, and didn’t even bother looking back at those left behind.

  With the reserves now gone, Hastelloy was free to envelop his foes and utterly destroy them. The large vessels were now so undermanned they barely moved at all. This made the job of landing flaming canisters of pitch from the forward catapults a simple matter. As more and more of the explosive projectiles hit their mark, the inevitability of defeat must have hit home with Tomal.

  Hastelloy watched Tomal’s flagship and a dozen others make a break from combat and follow Cleopatra’s fleeing ships.

  “Oh no you don’t!” Hastelloy said with an uncharacteristic anger behind his words. “Your mutiny ends today, right here.” He moved to issue new orders to the signal flagmen when Valnor slid in front of him, blocking Hastelloy’s path.

  “No,” Valnor said with a rarely heard command authority from the young man.

  Every instinct in Hastelloy’s being demanded he toss his helmsman aside to complete his victory, but prudence prevailed. He stole a glance around the deck of the ship and saw all eyes focused on the two of them. In the men’s eyes, Valnor was in command and that façade needed to be maintained. All ears would be listening to the next words spoken, so Hastelloy shifted into their native Novan tongue to keep the matter private.

  “You’re out of line ensign. Now stand aside and let me end this.”

  “Now is not the time,” Valnor protested.

  “The neck of our very dangerous adversary is exposed,” Hastelloy hissed through gritted teeth. “Now is precisely the time to strike the final blow.”

  “What then?” Valnor countered. “He regenerates through the Nexus and this all starts again? Defeating him is not the objective, he must be turned back to our cause.”

  “A humbling defeat will bring him to heel,” Hastelloy insisted.

  “No, it will anger him further,” Valnor said, “I have a better way.”

  “And what would that be, Ensign,” Hastelloy snapped.

  “My commanding officer once instructed me to use the nature of my adversaries against them,” Valnor instructed. “I plan to take his advice.”

  The moment Valnor turned his own words against him, Hastelloy felt the blood rush of battle vacate his veins. His mind cleared and he realized he did not need to show Tomal who was boss, only that Tomal was wrong. Hastelloy exhaled a soft laugh and clasped Valnor on the shoulder.

  “Very well, we’ll do it your way,” Hastelloy said and then raised his voice for the signal men to hear clearly. “Let those cowards
retreat. Focus all fire on the remaining enemy ships.”

  Hastelloy’s fleet reorganized itself and focused catapult fire on each adversary, one at a time. The deck crews were still sufficient to put out the fires caused by one or two strikes, but a dozen or more proved too much. Soon Tomal’s entire fleet was consumed by flames sending a large volume of wreckage to the bottom of the sea. The next day Hastelloy and Valnor presided over the surrender of Tomal’s considerable land forces.

  “We should load our men and set sail for Alexandria,” Valnor lobbied. “We have them by the short hairs and need to press in before they can assemble a resistance.”

  “We don’t know that is where they’ll go,” Hastelloy countered. “They’ll go wherever they have allies. Unless we get lucky, they will continue to slither away to another suitor unless we cut off every possible place they can go.

  “What do you suggest?” Valnor asked with a gasp of frustration.

  “Their potential allies reside in the eastern provinces,” Hastelloy instructed. “You should march this army by land around the Mediterranean Sea. On your way you will go through every eastern province and remind them who they serve and what happens if they don’t.

  “By the time you arrive in Alexandria we’ll find Mark Antony and Cleopatra boxed in and without a friend in the world.”

  Valnor stood and pointed at Hastelloy. “Take the fleet and as many men as the ships will carry to follow them by sea. Force the desert witch back to the west while we come around and trap her in the middle.”

  Valnor then looked around at the rest of his generals, “Gentlemen, let’s stretch our marching legs.”

  Chapter 59: On This Rock I Will Build My Church

  “Well, now what?” Gallono asked of Tonwen while the two of them walked toward the final resting place of Jesus to pay their final respects. A wealthy statesman named Joseph was so moved by the teachings of Jesus that he petitioned the governor to let him bury the body in his family tomb located near his house. Tonwen could only envy the faith and dedication the man displayed, for Tonwen knew his was still lacking.

  “I do not know,” Tonwen droned. “I fear I am no longer fit to lead this mission.”

  Gallono had put up with Tonwen’s self loathing and pity party for three days and decided he’d had quite enough. He spun him around by the arm and delivered a backhanded slap to his face that was intended to get his attention rather than inflict pain.

  “Snap out of it Lieutenant,” Gallono ordered. “You’re an officer of the fleet and failure is not an option. We’ve all made human friends who’ve passed away over the years while we live on with regenerated forms. It’s the nature of their existence. He died, he’s not coming back, and there isn’t a damn thing your sulking about will do to change that fact. It’s been three days. It’s time to move on to plan B.”

  “I have exhausted the alphabet with my failed plans to stimulate a faith to combat the Alpha threat,” Tonwen said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

  “Jesus had a huge following, you can build on that,” Gallono offered. “Maybe we can stage a resurrection of him in the eyes of his followers.”

  Tonwen rolled his eyes and looked as if he were ready to scream as Gallono continued his line of thought. “Now hear me out. We get you killed and have the regeneration chamber duplicate the likeness of Jesus. Then when you come back to Jerusalem, we can take his body out of the tomb and pass you off as him coming back to life. You can continue the teachings and will have the legend of the greatest miracle ever performed behind your words – your resurrection.”

  Tonwen could hold his tongue no longer. “I can’t!” he screamed at the top of his lungs and leveled a set of eyes at Gallono that bordered on madness. “I had to use these humans to spread my false faith because I do not believe in the words. People see right through me trying to pull one over on them. I cannot lead the movement because I am not a believer!”

  Gallono looked away from the madman in front of him and spotted two women running down the dirt road toward them. “Pull yourself together, Lieutenant, that’s an order.”

  Tonwen took a dozen deep cleansing breaths to clear his head while they waited for the women to arrive. Joseph’s house sat on a nearby hilltop, and the women were approaching from the garden where the tomb resides.

  “Help us,” the nearest woman cried out. “Help us please, they have taken our lord.”

  “Who . . . what are you talking about,” Tonwen insisted.

  “The stone in front of the tomb has been opened and the burial slab is bare,” the woman wept.

  “What about the guards,” Gallon asked. “What did they have to say about the open tomb.”

  “The high priest was there and paid them handsomely to go into the city and spread rumors that Jesus’ disciples took his body away to make it look like another miracle,” she answered. “I swear to you sir, I was there all night and not a soul came to or left the site.”

  “You may have fallen asleep,” Tonwen suggested. “How can you be so sure?”

  “There is not a doubt in my mind,” she declared. “Now we must return to the city and dispel the lies those soldiers are spreading.”

  As if a switch were thrown in his head, Tonwen shifted into command mode again. He looked over at Gallono, “Go with them, and recruit any other believers you can find to help in your efforts.”

  “What about you?” Gallono asked.

  “I will see this miracle for myself,” Tonwen answered and broke into a full tilt sprint into Joseph’s garden.

  Tonwen rounded a row of tall rose bushes and came upon a man-made cave hewn into a stone faced hillside. In the middle stood a circular opening with an enormous boulder moved out of the way. He could see at once why the woman spoke with such conviction at the notion of her sleeping through the event. The stone was so immense, even a dozen men using tools for leverage would have had a job moving that boulder ten feet to the side where it now rest. The commotion of that effort would have woken the dead, let alone a woman dozing off nearby.

  The interior of the tomb was well lit with the morning sun shining into the opening. Tonwen entered the small stone cave, barely tall enough for him to stand upright, and examined the burial slab. Except for a white burial shroud and the heavy scent of myrrh in the air, the tomb was empty; just as the woman said.

  Tonwen’s mind raced with thoughts of how to reconcile what he saw. Did a miracle happen; surely not? Did Gallono enact his plan to falsify his resurrection; not a chance? Could other followers have taken the body and plan to impersonate him; perhaps? Perhaps the priests or soldiers exhumed the body to make a public example of it; that was it.

  He wasn’t about to let his friend’s body be desecrated any further. He resolved to do whatever it took to get the body back. With his course of action decided, Tonwen turned on his heels and ducked through the chamber opening.

  In front of him, eclipsing the sun in a way that gave the figure an angelic halo stood a man wearing a hooded white robe. Tonwen was so caught up in his rage that he nearly bowled the man over.

  “The body has been taken,” Tonwen grumbled as he sidestepped the man and was on his way without a second look.

  “The body is gone because it now lives and breathes before you once more,” the man replied. “It is I, Peter.”

  Perhaps the body was indeed taken to perpetuate a hoax Tonwen thought. He spun around to address the imposter. “Peter is not my name, and he,” Tonwen barked while pointing to the tomb, “would recognize me without needing a second glance.”

  “Would you recognize me without a second look?” the man responded. “We were as brothers, Peter.”

  “Enough,” Tonwen shouted and rushed toward the man and snapped the hood down to his back to reveal the imposter’s face. The likeness was uncanny and gave him pause to consider the viability of his claim, but doubt won out once more. “Why do you call me Peter? He knew me as Simon.”

  “You have been known by many names over many lifetimes,
” the man answered. “Peter, means the Rock in Greek. You will be my rock on earth, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of hell will not prevail against it.”

  Tonwen just laughed at the words, “Wow do you have the wrong man,” he finally managed through his laughter.

  “You lack faith, not ability,” the imposter said. “Did I not heal the ear of Malchus after your blade severed it? Did I not foretell your denial three times before the rooster crows? You will not deny me a fourth time.”

  No one knew of the denials, no one! Not Gallono, not the priests, no one. The rusty locks and chains keeping Tonwen’s faith firmly locked away were shattered in that moment. The light of the world rushed in to cleanse his troubled soul and he emerged a new man.

  “Teacher,” Tonwen cried out on his way to his knees. He raised his head and reached up with both hands to beg his master’s forgiveness. He recoiled for an instant when a hand bearing a half inch diameter hole clean through reached out to him. Tonwen grasped the outstretched hand and pulled it to his forehead and held it there as he wept for joy without shame.

  “What would you have me do,” Tonwen finally managed.

  “Go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.”

  “Thy will be done, Amen,” Tonwen whispered and then felt his own hand connect with the flesh of his forehead. He opened his eyes and looked up to find only a blue sky before him.

  Without hesitation, Tonwen sprung to his feet and ran toward Jerusalem’s city center. Upon his arrival he found Gallono talking with ten other men who were all followers of Jesus. Tonwen told all of them, and any passerby who would listen what he saw.

  Many listened and stood in awe at what they heard, but others jeered.

  “Ignore this fool, he’s drunk on new wine,” a particularly animated fellow accused.

  Tonwen raised his voice for all in the square to hear, “You men of Judea and all you who live in Jerusalem, know this and listen carefully to what I say. In spite of what you think, I am not drunk, for it is only the early morning. You all know that what I speak of was spoken about through the prophet King David.”