Chapter 27 - The Harbor Transfer Post
“Welcome to the Eastern Legion Recruit Sisera,” the Optio said looking up from where he sat.
The NCO laid the parchment on his desk and studied the big farm lad. He was dressed in bleached out woolen pants and a pullover. Washing clothes in ocean water took out the color and most recruits arrived after a sea voyage looking the same. Their clothing bleached out and their bodies out of shape.
Not being a Legionary and having no assigned duties, many recruits arrived weak from lack of activity. His training NCOs called it Civilian Malaise and they had a cure for it. The farm lad appeared to have trained every day as would any active duty Legionary.
“What’s your story Sisera?” the Optio asked.
“My father has a farm in the Western Province, sir,” Alerio explained. “I have two sisters and…”
“Shut up Recruit,” the NCO ordered. “The proper response is I want to be a Legionary.”
“I want to be a Legionary, sir,” Alerio responded.
“Go find the supply tent and have them issue you recruit equipment,” the NCO ordered. “Dismissed.”
The Optio was pleasantly surprised when the farm lad slammed his right fist into his chest. He returned the salute and waved the lad away. Almost no recruits knew about saluting. He’d keep an eye on this one he thought. But a Legionary pushed into his tent with a stack of papers and he promptly forgot about the Recruit.
Alerio wandered around the straight roads between the perfectly aligned tents. As the Transfer Post for the Eastern Legion, all shipped in supplies, transferring Legionnaires and Recruits, passed through here. Command tents were behind the Optio’s quarters and closer to the center of the compound. Further out, near the earthen walls, sat the larger supply tents. He took a walkway toward one of them.
“Recruit Sisera, reporting for my recruit equipment,” Alerio said as he stepped out of the sun and into the shade of a supply tent.
A Private looked over from where he was stacking bundles of wrapped supplies.
“Four tents over,” he said pointing to his right.
Alerio left the tent. As he walked, he peered into the open tents on either side of the road. In each, men were sorting and stacking items into separate piles. Some were handling bundles, others barrels, and in other tents, they rolled amphorae into groupings.
“Is this the right supply tent?” Alerio asked as he stepped into the indicated structure.
“These are all supply tents,” a Legionary replied waving an arm to indicate their surroundings. He had a scroll in his other hand and half of the long document dangled all the way to the hard-packed sand floor.
Remembering himself, Alerio said, “Recruit Sisera reporting for my recruit equipment.”
“Oh, those supplies,” the Legionary said then over his shoulder shouted. “Tesserarius. You have a recruit in need of gear.”
The Legionary went back to counting bundles and checking them against the scroll. An arm appeared between rows of stacked goods and motioned to Alerio.
“Recruit, come back here,” a voice ordered.
Alerio made his way deeper into the tent and noticed the temperature rise the further back in he traveled. A Corporal stood holding a tightly wrapped bundle of gear. The bundle was dropped to the ground and the NCO reached onto a shelf and pulled down a backpack. It was thrust into Alerio’s arms.
“Put this on Recruit,” the Tesserarius ordered.
Once Alerio had adjusted the pack he felt items being placed in it. The first three items hit the bottom of the pack and jarred his shoulders. Other items didn’t weigh nearly as much.
“Pick up your gear and report to the armory,” the Corporal said as he held out a scroll. “You are responsible for the equipment. Every item. Lose any item and you will be charged. Break an item and you will be charged a replacement fee. Sign or make your mark here.”
“But Tesserarius, I haven’t inventoried the gear,” Alerio explained.
The NCO stood in the hot humid interior of the tent glaring at the recruit. The tension lasted until Alerio signed the receipt and struggled out of the tent.
The backpack straps cut into his shoulders and the bundle in his arms was so large, he had to lean around it to see where he was going. Where he ended up was halfway around the compound at the armory.
Unlike the rest of the Post, part of the Armory was a block walled building with a goat skin roof. Not so much a roof, the cover was there just to block the sun and allow for air flow. Alerio stepped into the shade of the building and was hit by a wave of hot air.
To the rear of the building, a forge was flaring as ironworkers pounded on glowing lengths of metal. One of the muscular men pointed to a side doorway with his hammer. Alerio nodded in understanding and stepped to the door.
The metalworker laughed. The Recruit had to turn sideways to squeeze his body and, the equipment he carried, through the opening.
There was a slight drop in temperature in the tent attached to the forge area. Just slightly, it seemed to Alerio as he trudged with the unbalanced load across the tent.
“Recruit Sisera reporting for recruit equipment,” he announced as he set the bundle on a thick board suspended between two barrels.
“Your merda is touching my counter, cūlus,” a man growled. He was standing deep in the shadows between shelves of gladii and shields, “Who said you could use my space recruit?”
“My apologies, sir,” Alerio replied as he hurriedly lifted the bundle, “Recruit Sisera reporting for recruit equipment.”
“I heard you the first time,” the Legionary said. He plucked items from shelves as he walked towards Alerio.
A large wicker shield was placed on the bundle along with three javelins. A heavy wooden practice sword was thrust into one hand and a dull metal knife into the other.
“Name?” asked the man.
“Recruit Alerio Sisera,” Alerio answered.
“You are responsible for the equipment. Every item. Lose any item and you will be charged. Break an item and you will be charged a replacement fee,” the man announced. “Now get out of my armory.”
There was no way Alerio could navigate the doorway with all the equipment. Hesitantly, he squatted and placed the bundle and equipment on the floor near the door. After checking to see if the Legionary would complain about the placement of his gear, Alerio carried the shield, javelins, and sword through the doorway, the forge building and out to the street. He set the items down and rushed back to retrieve the bundle.
It was difficult, but he managed to balance all the gear in his arms. Standing on the street, it suddenly occurred to him. He didn’t know where he was supposed to go next.
A Decanus, his chest armor oiled to a brilliant shine, his hobnailed boots polished and a buffed helmet tucked under an arm came from around a tent.
“You, on me!” the NCO announced.
He spun and marched away. Alerio stumbled after him while trying to hold and balance the pile of equipment. They walked between supply tents and onto an open field. Across the field and near the earth wall sat a ten-man field tent. On the sand beside the erect tent lay seven large bundles.
As Alerio tugged through the sand, he noted sword training posts and marked off lanes for foot races. They approached the tent.
“Drop your gear and stand by your tent,” the Lance Corporal directed.
Alerio shuffled to the tent entrance and set the equipment down. He braced stiffly. The NCO stared at him for an uncomfortably long time.
“That’s not your tent Recruit,” the Decanus sneered. “That’s my tent. Your tent is over there.”
He was pointing towards one of the large bundles lying on the sand.
“Do you want my tent?” asked the NCO.
“No, sir,” Alerio replied.
“Don’t call me Sir!” the NCO screamed. “I’m a Decanus of the Legion. I’ve worked long and hard and earned the title. You, you haven’t earned anything. Now, move your gear
away from my tent. Now!”
Alerio scrambled to collect his equipment. He had it balanced and began to walk away when the heavy wicker shield slipped and fell to the sand.
“Did you just lose your shield?” asked the Lance Corporal. “If you drop your shield in combat you die, people die, I die. Do you want to kill me Recruit?”
“No sir,” Alerio said as he lowered the equipment to the sand and began stacking it, again.
“Cur! Did you just call me cur?” the Legionary asked. “Do I look like a dog to you? Do you want to pat my head and scratch me behind my ear?”
“No, Decanus,” Alerio said as he finally got the stack balanced and stood up. “I’m moving my equipment to my tent.”
Recruit Sisera stood by his pile of equipment and the bundled tent. He stood until the sun past its zenith and slowly moved towards the flat hazy horizon. The Lance Corporal had long ago disappeared into his tent.
Eventually, four Privates appeared from between the supply tents and came towards Alerio. As they approached, he expected more harassment. Instead, they greeted him.
“We’re here to teach you how to set up a tent,” one explained.
The four instructed him in unfolding the ten-man tent. They had him refold it so he learned the proper way to stow it. They even took turns pounding in the stakes for the guide ropes. Finally, the big tent was erected and the four Legionaries stepped back to admire their work.
“Good luck Recruit,” they said. Alerio watched as they crossed the field and didn’t notice the Lance Corporal emerge from his tent.
“Attention Recruit,” he barked. “Let me inspect your tent.”
The NCO circled the tent, jerking on each guide rope and thumping on the tent sides. When he arrived back in front of Alerio, he pointed to the stack of equipment.
“The javelins can be strapped to the backpack,” he said grabbing the weapons and tying them in place. He went on to explain how each piece of equipment could be layered for marching. Or strapped on for fighting. After the comprehensive lecture, Alerio had a grip on how to wear his equipment.
“Are you my instructor?” Alerio asked.
“No Recruit. I’m a Decanus in Headquarters Century,” he explained. “We run security for the Post and for the baggage trains going out to the forts.”
“Can I ask why the harsh words and attitude earlier?” Alerio inquired.
“It was a test,” explained the Lance Corporal. “If you had pushed back or attacked me, my Squad would have made sure you were too broken up to be a Legionary.”
“I assume I passed the test?” Alerio guessed.
“If you hadn’t, you’d be sleeping out in the open. On the sand with the spiders and scorpions,” the Lance Corporal said. “Your training class doesn’t start for four days. Instructors will be here from six Centuries to do the training. That way they can select the Recruits they want for their units.”
Chapter 28 - The Acting SOG
Alerio, as all farm lads do, was up before the sun rose. After getting a bowl of mushy corn from the mess hall, he wandered back to the empty training area. With no assignment or duties, he went to the tent and retrieved the practice gladius.
He was going through the sword drills on a post when the Decanus walked up.
“For a recruit, you’re pretty good with the wooden gladius,” the NCO said. He walked by the recruit and went into the NCO tent. When he returned, he pulled his gladius and handed a second to Alerio, “Let’s see how you do against a living opponent.”
They started with basic drills then the NCO slipped in an advance move. Alerio easily blocked the strike and countered. Then, he dipped his blade and grabbed his shoulder. A trickle of blood ran down his arm.
“Oh Hades, I’ve torn the stitches,” the Recruit explained.
“I guess you’ve had enough,” the Decanus said.
“No, let’s continue,” Alerio offered as he shifted the gladius to his left hand.
They ran through all the drills until both were soaked in sweat. When a horn blew, the Lance Corporal pointed towards a road heading away from the Post. Soon lines of Legionaries appeared with a wagon train following. Behind the long string of supply wagons marched several rows of Legionaries.
“That’s a lot of security,” observed Alerio.
Having grown up in a relatively tame province of the Republic, the thought of having to guard supplies didn’t occur to him. A few armed men to protect against highwaymen was all he’d ever seen. Here, there was a Century and a half of heavy infantrymen accompanying the supplies.
Nine years ago, the Legion of the Republic had forced the ruling tribes to sign treaties. While the major cities and towns were under Legion control, the surrounding area wasn’t.
“It’s necessary. The local renegades would kill to get those supplies,” the Decanus explained. “Heck, they’d kill for less. But mostly, they’d kill to prevent the goods from reaching our forts. The problem is, it leaves me shorthanded for Post security. I’m acting Sergeant of the Guard tonight and I need to fill guard slots. Thanks for the workout.”
The NCO was three steps away when Alerio called out, “Lance Corporal. I’d like to volunteer for guard duty.”
Chapter 29 - Guard Post Fifteen
Alerio shifted his shoulders. It was the first time he’d worn the recruit armor. Without time to rub in conditioning oil, the old leather was stiff and scratchy. The helmet flopped as he hadn’t had time to line it with fur for fit. And the gladius and scabbard were on loan from the Post guard command. Despite the uncomfortable armor and the cold of early morning, Alerio was proud to walk Guard Post Fifteen.
The Lance Corporal assured him it wasn’t likely to be attacked by rebels. In the near distance, lights from the harbor town glowed and overhead a multitude of stars seemed so close, Alerio felt as if he could reach up and grab a handful. Thirty paces along the wall, wave to the other Legionary and march back thirty paces. Wait and acknowledge the guard on the other section and repeat. The NCO had been by three times while making the rounds as Optio of the Guard. On each circuit, he reported all was quiet along the walls of the Transfer Post.
Alerio counted twenty-eight, twenty-nine and thirty. He stopped and stared into the night. Apparently, the guard on the other post was late in getting to the end of his route. Suddenly, a shape emerged on the earthen wall, an arm waved and the man turned and vanished into the dark.
All seemed well, except the shape was wrong, and there was no creaking of leather as the man moved. Alerio froze. If he called out and it was only his inexperience, he’d look like a fool. If he deserted his post and went to investigate, he could be tossed out of the Legion before actually becoming a Legionary.
He hesitated for a few seconds before racing along the dirt top. The man shape had vanished. Alerio slowed and bent to lower his profile. As he crept along the wall, voices in a strange sing song accent drifted on the still air. Alerio’s foot caught on something. He knelt down and felt a foot. It was a hobnailed boot attached to the body of a Legionary.
Alerio cried out, “Sergeant of the Guard, Attack! Attack!”
Guards along the wall began sounding off that the action was to their left or to their right. This allowed the SOG and four reserve Legionaries to locate the trouble. They raced for a spot between Guard Post Fourteen and Fifteen.
The Decanus was upset but not worried. Putting a Recruit on regular guard duty was frowned upon unless you stacked them up and had an instructor nearby. Now the entire guard force, no, the entire Transfer Post, was awake and on alert.
After his second round of yelling, Alerio heard the sound of feet scraping as people climbed the wall from outside the fort. He drew his gladius.
The shapes, backlit by the lights from the city of Crotone, came level with the top of the wall. Long curved knives reflected the starlight but dark robes hid the men wielding the weapons. There was no hesitation, the four dissents rushed silently at the Legionary Guard.
Alerio arched his gla
dius up and over. On the downward sweep, it chopped into the leading man’s forearm. The knife fell and Alerio kicked him over the wall and into the compound. The gladius continued to spin. In its up sweep, the blade cut into the second assailant’s elbow.
The final two separated and came at Alerio from the sides. At knife distance, Alerio dropped to a knee and reached out. His blade tip ripped a gash in a renegade’s side. But the maneuver caused the loose helmet to rocked and it tumbled from Alerio’s head.
The other attacker planned to drive his knife into the Legionary’s ear and into his brain. One second the helmet was level with his knife and he stabbed at the ear hole. But, Alerio had leaned away to deliver the strike and lost his helmet. The rebel’s knife extended out and carved a slice of the Recruit’s scalp.
With blood flowing into his eyes, and only partial vision, Alerio brought the gladius across his body and opened the knifeman’s gut. The man collapsed and Alerio remained on his knees.
The acting Sergeant of the Guard found one of his Legionary guards dead and another kneeling with his hands over his head. It wasn’t until later when he spoke with the Doctor, he learned how close he’d come to losing two men that night.
In short order, the men on guard duty and all off duty Legionaries were sweeping through the compound and supply tents. Small clusters of heavy infantrymen guarded any exits. Four renegades were captured and questioned. By dawn, command knew the rebels planned to start fires, burn supplies, and kill as many Legionaries as possible before escaping.
The only other deaths that day were from the Officer of the Day’s blade. The Centurion executed the four rebels, then went to breakfast.
Chapter 30 - The Medical Tent
Alerio was propped up on a cot. Thick bandages spotted with leaking blood were wrapped around his head. He listened as the Doctor talked with the Lance Corporal, his Corporal, and his Optio.
“The Legionary’s lucky he ducked when he did,” the Doctor explained. “It took thirty-five stitches to secure the scalp. Even now, it’s bleeding under the bandages. Nothing to worry about, head wounds do bleed a lot.”
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