Fortune Reigns

by J. Clifton Slater

  The warrior, pulled to the side by the weight of his great sword, received a hasty slash along his ribcage. But, he was powerful and managed to bring his shield around before Carnifex was able to line up for a stab. The two-handed blade arched up and across, forcing Carnifex to lean back. A deep furrow on the face of the Legion shield marked the passage of the blade’s tip. Rising to shoulder level, the long blade hung for a moment as the giant tightened his muscles preparing for a targeted downward slash.

  Carnifex spun in a circle. Using the edge of the Legion shield, he bumped the giant’s shield, briefly, off center. Thrusting into the closing gap, the gladius sliced the massive warrior’s other ribcage to the bone. Reacting to the pain, the Empire warrior jerked the two-handed blade downward in an uncontrolled hack.

  The Centurion relaxed his left arm. Instead of being thrown to the side by the heavy blade, the power of the giant, and the weight of the Legion shield, Carnifex allowed the arm to float in the direction of the force. Although his arm overextended, he remained balanced. The only real damages: a corner of the Centurion’s shield was sheared off and he was exposed.

  The massive warrior seethed with anger. His strikes had done no damage to the broad-shouldered Legion officer. Now, he had his enemy open with the big shield out of position. But, his sword was outside that shield. He needed to draw it back in order to deliver a killing strike. To give him time to withdraw the long blade, he slammed the Centurion in the chest with the Empire shield.

  Legionaries trained with their shields. Besides their gladii and javelins, shields were their most effective weapons. The natural inclination when receiving a face full of wood and leather was to back away. But that would throw a Legionary off his attack line, leaving a breach and his squad mates unprotected. Training included attacking with a shield and defending against attacks by a shield. Legion instructors delivered a lot of smashes with shields during drills to teach the proper techniques. Conversely, weapons instructors ate a lot of oiled hardwood from irate Legionaries returning the favor.

  Weapons instructor Carnifex dug in his left foot to anchor his place and bent his left knee to brace against the Empire shield. As he set one side of his body, he rotated his right leg back, pivoted his upper body and bent away from the full force of the blow. The warrior’s shield connected with the left side of his chest and shoulder. While he absorbed the impact, Carnifex swung his right arm down and twirled the gladius in his fingers. From forward facing, the weapon flipped, putting the blade to the rear. Then, he raised his arm and stepped forward with the right leg.

  The giant had his sword arm back, bringing the long blade up in an arc. In a heartbeat, it would swing over his shoulder and chop the Legion officer killing him instantly. Then, a hand, holding a gladius, appeared above the Empire shield. Before the massive warrior’s sword rose further, the gladius stabbed down into the Empire soldier. The short blade entered his lower throat and shattered the top of his sternum before piercing the giant’s heart.

  As the huge soldier dropped to his knees, Sanctus Carnifex pulled his gladius free and stepped back.

  “Close the gap,” he ordered while shaking off the Legion shield. It tumbled onto the other broken shields. The Centurion sheathed his gladius and clasped his hand over his elbow.

  “Trouble, Sweet Butcher?” inquired a line officer.

  “He hits like a mule,” replied Carnifex.

  “Not anymore,” the Centurion stated. He pointed towards a group of Empire soldiers carrying the giant on their shoulders away from the fighting. “Thanks for that. He was about to carve a hole in my lines.”

  “I thought he was going to carve a hole in me,” Carnifex responded while indicating the three broken shields. “Or, begin to remove body parts. Where are we in this ugly fight?”

  ***

  The wounded lay between the trees being tended to by the less seriously injured. Around the defensive line, they were down to two ranks. Soon, the injured, those able to hold a javelin or handle a gladius and shield, would be required to man the lines again. Before it came down to the last man defense, Qart Hadasht trumpets sounded and the attacking soldiers pulled back.

  In the distance, assault commander Carnifex saw Senior Tribune Claudius and Senior Centurion Valerian ride into view. As they drew closer, ranks of Legionaries, grouped around unit flags, trotted ahead of the staff officer and Centurion.

  The army of the Empire retreated trying to get their companies back over the stone wall. But there were too many mercenaries and soldiers in the narrow field. With no room to maneuver or time to flee, they set lines preparing to fight.

  “Centurion Carnifex. Are we going to get into that?” a blood-splattered Private inquired.

  “No. We’ve completed the mission,” Sanctus replied. “And, we’ve had enough fun for one day. Let’s enjoy the show.”

  Centuries spread out forming the front attack ranks. Behind them, Legionaries stacked up twenty ranks deep waiting for their chance to fight. Like a saw blade through dry wood, the Legion began chewing up the army of the Empire. Once they had advanced beyond the trees on the banks of the Strait, the Senior Tribune and his runners rode to the battered assault detachment.

  “Senior Tribune Claudius. Good morning, sir,” Carnifex said while delivering a cross chest salute. “We are glad to see you.”

  Looking around at the wounded, Gaius Claudius ordered a runner to fetch a medical team before he replied.

  “I thought you’d bring a few of their units over the wall,” Claudius explained. “But it seems you’ve drawn half their forces.”

  “We couldn’t help it, sir,” Carnifex reported indicating the exhausted and wounded Legionaries around him. “Every time they attacked, we beat them. They kept sending more and more units over the stone wall after us. And we kept beating them.”

  “Colonel Requiem will be along shortly with General Caudex. Give them your report,” instructed Claudius. “Then get your detachment back to Messina. From the looks of it, you all need to report to the Medical tent.”

  Tribune Gaius Claudius reined his horse around and galloped off with his runners.

  “Colonel Requiem is trusting the Legion to the Senior Tribune,” remarked one of the Centurions.

  “I guess he wants to make a battle commander out of him,” Carnifex replied. “Let’s get this detachment cleaned up and ready for the General. Legionaries, on your feet.”

  Act 4

  Chapter 17 – Canes Venandi

  Gaius Claudius trotted from the assault detachment to the center of the field. Legionaries behind him waited in ranks. To his front, two rows of Legionnaires battled with the army of the Empire. A third rank passed forward new javelins when one broke.

  “I don’t think the stone wall will be a problem,” Gaius announced as he rode up beside the Senior Centurion.

  “No, sir. They have so many scrambling over it, we’ll simply tag along,” responded the senior line officer. Then he called a Centurion to the rear of the attack line. “You are lagging behind. We need to hit that wall as one. Make it one!”

  The line officer and his NCOs shouted to their Century and the slightly concave shape in their section straightened.

  “Third maniple to the front,” Valerian ordered. Holding up two fingers, he turned his head and instructed. “Bring up two.”

  On the attack line, the commanders passed on the order and the fighting Legionaries at the front angled their shields to create uniformed gaps. The third rank shuffled through the second maniple, who were thrusting javelins at the enemy, and surged a full step into the enemy line. There, they took over the hard work of shield to shield fighting.

  What had been the front rank, stepped back. Gasping to catch their breath and shaking out tight muscles or applying pressure to cuts, they walked towards the rear of the Legion formation. As they ambled back, two fresh lines jogged forward to the assault line. For a brief moment, the rotation left only two maniples at the front.

  “Second maniple, fall b
ack,” Valerian ordered as the two fresh lines filtered into place.

  It only took a few heartbeats and the Legion personnel on the attack line completely changed. Fresh Legionaries maintained the intensity and forward momentum. On the other side of the fighting, the Qart Hadasht Captains and Lieutenants, from different units and cultures, attempted to shuffle fresh troops to the front. But they lacked the training and discipline and, most importantly, the cohesion between units of the Republic’s Legion.

  “The stone wall doesn’t look that high,” commented Senior Tribune Claudius. “In the dark from the swamp, it seemed to be a formidable obstacle.”

  “It’s big enough, sir. If we came at it across an open field, they’d have archers and spears ready,” explained Senior Centurion Valerian. “We’d have lost a lot of Legionaries taking that wall. But with their troops on this side, the flow of fighting will carry us over it.”

  Fighting along the assault line approached the stone wall. Five paces from the structure, the Senior Centurion called out.

  “Third maniple to the front,” Valerian ordered. Holding up two fingers, he turned his head and instructed. “Bring up two.”

  ***

  A work detail removed stones from the wall and the Senior Tribune and Senior Centurion rode through side by side. Their runners and the junior Tribunes followed. The work detail continued to dismantle the wall to allow passage of the Legion’s support wagons and mules. In the distance, Claudius and Valerian saw Qart Hadasht wagons and columns of soldiers fleeing from their assault line.

  “The field is yours, Senior Tribune,” comment Valerian as he pointed at the retreating Empire army. “Orders, sir?”

  “What do you think, Senior Centurion?” Gaius asked. “Should we let them go and set defensive positions or pursue them?”

  “Senior Tribune, I’m just the mule driver,” Valerian answered. “It’s the Legion battle commander who dictates the route.”

  The comment rocked Gaius Claudius. Pericles Requiem was the oversized Legion’s commander. All morning, runners kept the Colonel and the General informed of their progress. Not once had Requiem replied with orders or even suggestions for Claudius at the front. Last month, when the Senior Tribune crossed to Messina with the advance units, it had been with twelve Centuries under his command. Looking around, he peered at almost four thousand heavy infantrymen, over eight hundred light infantry, plus Doctors and Medics and over two hundred support personnel.

  “Orders, sir?” asked Valerian.

  “Tell me, Senior Centurion, what is the state of our men?” Claudius inquired as he thought about the hard fighting from yesterday.

  “Good question, sir. There are basically two kinds of canes,” replied Valerian. “Hunting dogs and guard dogs.”

  “And what are these?” asked Claudius indicating the Legionaries surrounding them.

  “Canes venandi,” the senior line officer assured him.

  “Then turn them loose, Senior Centurion,” ordered Senior Tribune Claudius. “And let them hunt.”

  ***

  The narrow spit of land broadened and, at midday, the fleeing Qart Hadasht army divided into companies. Once separated from the wagons and support mules, they began forming fighting units. Empire cavalry, which had been absent on the narrows, appeared and rode to flanking positions.

  “It appears the fox has grown fangs and found his courage,” ventured Valerian. After that pronouncement, he sat on his horse staring at Gaius.

  “You really aren’t going to give me advice, are you?” remarked the Tribune.

  “Not unless you order something inspired by Coalemus, sir,” replied the senior line officer.

  “If I say something stupid, I would hope you would,” Gaius agreed. “They have horsemen and we don’t. Split our Velites and give them three Centuries of heavy infantry on both sides. That should hold the Qart Hadasht cavalry. We’ll go at their center without skirmishers.”

  Gaius watched the Senior Centurion for any objections or signs of disapproval.

  “Yes, sir,” Valerian responded. Then he turned to his runners and began issuing orders.

  While the senior line officer ordered the adjustments for the fighting part of the Legion, Gaius began sending his Tribunes to the support elements. Supply wagons, the Centuries’ mules, and the Medical wagons were directed to stop and set up areas to protect the livestock. Five Centuries were sent back to help arrange and guard the camp.

  “They don’t seem to be in any hurry,” Gaius observed once the crush of runners and Tribunes dispersed. He glanced across the front of the Qart Hadasht’s army as their units scurried into defensive formations.

  “Our assault detachment disturbed their breakfast. They’re probably hungry as well as demoralized from the rude awakening,” commented Valerian. “Should we ruin the rest of their day, sir?”

  ***

  General Caudex and Colonel Requiem, surrounded by First Century Headquarters, rode through the wide gap in the stone wall.

  “You were correct, Colonel,” observed Caudex. “Senior Tribune Claudius is ready for his own Legion.”

  “I’m glad you agree, General. The Republic needs experienced battle commanders,” Requiem replied as he and the General reined their horses around a line of dead Qart Hadasht soldiers. “He’ll need backing from the Senate when the next Legion is formed.”

  “Hopefully, we won’t need to field any Legions for a while,” Caudex pondered. “But, I’m here and out of touch with the politics of the Republic. With my term as Consul growing short, I’ll soon resume my place in the Senate. You have my word that Gaius Claudius will receive my backing.”

  “You’ve proven to be a victorious General,” commented Requiem. “History will treat you with honor.”

  “We’ve fought two armies in two days,” General Caudex mentioned. “How many have died to secure a harbor that’s redundant, considering Rhégion is just across the Strait?”

  “Messina is critical to preventing an invasion of the Republic’s southern region,” Colonel Requiem reminded him while pointing at three wagons and fifteen men trailing behind. “As far as how decisive were your victories, we’ll have a count by the end of the day, General.”

  Among the detachment following the Colonel and General, three Greek slaves with big scrolls made notes as other men ran to strip the soldiers of their armor, helmets, weapons and personal items. As each finished salvaging, he carried the equipment to one of the wagons and reported to a Greek. A careful accounting kept track of the presumed value of the equipment, jewelry, coins and, added the Qart Hadasht soldier to the body count. While Legionaries bodies and equipment would be returned to their Century, the soldier’s equipment would be sold and added to the General’s treasury.

  ***

  “Valerian. I’m going to order our flanking units five quick paced ahead and three advances,” Tribune Gaius Claudius informed his Senior Centurion.

  “What are you thinking, sir?” inquired the senior line officer.

  “I’m watching messengers travel back and forth between their command staff and their cavalry. But there’s not much communication with their infantry,” explained Gaius. “I believe the Qart Hadasht General plans a flanking charge to break through the ends of our lines.”

  “Bless your eyesight, Senior Tribune,” Valerian said acknowledging the gift from Theia and the military instincts of the acting battle commander. “Our flanks moving forward will throw off their coordination. You’ll order advances by our infantry to maintain our lines after the flanks move?”

  “Of course,” Gaius said to the wily Centurion who didn’t give advice to staff officers. “Runners, Tribunes. Flanks to advance on my signal. Heavy infantry to follow on my command. Go, alert your Centurions.”

  Gaius finished sending off the messengers and looked up for Valerian. All morning the Senior Centurion had ridden beside him soliciting orders and pointing out the movement of individual Centuries. Now with the Legion online and about to go into combat a
cross a wide front, the senior line officer vanished.

  Two squads broke from a section of a maniple and sprinted towards Gaius. As they approached, one squad wrapped around to his front while the other ten Legionaries completed a circle by running around behind him.

  “What’s the meaning of this?” demanded Gaius.

  “Sir. We have the honor of being the battle commander’s bodyguard detachment,” a Lance Corporal replied. Then to the twenty Legionaries, he ordered. “Spread out, give the commander room to operate.”

  As the members of the squads stepped away to create lanes, two young Tribunes raced up. One had his gladius out as if he was a historic warrior prepared to win the battle by himself. The other trotted passed the Legionaries but, the armed Tribune’s horse jerked to a stop when two infantry shields slammed into the animal’s chest. Not only was he halted, two javelin tips floated in the air a couple hands distance from the young nobleman’s face.

  “Tribune. Put the weapon away in the presence of the battle commander,” a Lance Corporal stated.

  As the young man complied and sheathed his gladius, Gaius asked, “Is that necessary?”

  “Sir. Senior Centurion Valerian said if he sees a bare blade anywhere near you, we will be on latrine duty for a year after we get off the punishment post,” one of the squad leaders informed the Senior Tribune. “The most important unit of a Legion in contact, sir, is you. So, yes battle commander, that was necessary.”

  “I understand,” Gaius said as he waved the frightened Tribune forward. Then, he inquired. “Where is the Senior Centurion?”

  “Sir, at his post,” the Lance Corporal responded while pointing at the center of the three maniples.

  Stationed behind the combat line of Legionaries, Valerian sat on his horse shouting orders and sending runners to specific Centurions. Then, the Senior Centurion twisted around and saluted Gaius. He hadn’t realized it during the running fight to reach the open plain because it felt like a running skirmish. But now, with the Legion in maniples, tensed and waiting, Gaius Claudius understood. Responsibility for this massive engine of war had just been handed to him. At his command, men would fight and die.