Optio Horus observed the farm lad.
“Quick time march,” shouted the Sergeant. The Recruits went from marching to a slow jog.
They didn’t mind the run until mile five. At that distance, a few fell back holding their sides and gasping for breath. As the column moved forward, more Recruits slowed and drifted back. Recruit Sisera on the last row offered encouragement and physically pulled two men along with him. Regardless of Alerio’s help, the trail behind the unit was soon littered with walking and limping Recruits.
The non-hackers weren’t alone. Sergeants talked to them, offering assistance at a high volume and directly into their ears.
“Does it hurt you to run? The enemy runs all day. Are you weaker than our enemies?”
“Do you want to die? If you can’t run away, the enemy will kill you first?”
“It only hurts until you die.”
Some responded to the motivation and jogged to catch up. Others were lost in their misery and couldn’t respond.
At mile six, the column made a U-turn and headed back to the Transfer Post. In the weeks to come, the distance would increase until every recruit could run twenty miles in under five hours. Those failing to meet the time and distance, wouldn’t graduate.
As the column reach the main gate, the Optio called, “Unit, march. Left foot. Stomp. Hold up your heads, you are Recruit Legionaries. Be proud.”
Stragglers stretched out behind the column as if it had a long tail. Because Alerio had pulled two recruits along, he was separated from the main column by a few steps. As the unit began to march, he kept running and pulling to close the distance. Before he could reach the last row, a Sergeant stepped in front of him.
“The order was to march,” the Sergeant growled. “Half rations for those not keeping up.”
Further back, where those truly suffering staggered in, another Optio shouted, “Quarter rations for the non-hackers.”
They were halted at the mess hall. As announced, the first group got a full meal. Recruit Sisera and his companions received half a meal. The remaining Recruits had only a quarter of a bowl of stew. In the Legion, performance was rewarded.
Chapter 35 - Hand Launched Missiles
The rest of the day was spent having the Recruits dress in their armor. Straps were tightened and pieces adjusted for fit. Optio Horus walked among them striking them with the flat of a wooden gladius.
“Tighten the shoulder strap,” he’d say as a Recruit jerked back from the strike.
It was the first time any of them had seen him smile. Bruised and bone weary, the Recruits were ordered to clean their gear, their bodies, and get some sleep.
***
“Recruit Training Century, on the road for chow,” the Sergeant said softly.
It was still dark and the exhausted Recruits were sound asleep. Yet a few heard and repeated the order. Soon, the Recruits were dressed and piling out of their tents. They marched as a unit to the mess hall for a quick meal then back to the practice field.
They were greeted by the training squad and lines of measured off rows.
“Javelins and shields,” ordered the Optio.
Once the recruits had their equipment, they were lined up at marked off areas. The areas started about a shoulder’s width wide and angled out until they were ten yards wide and forty yards deep. A bale of straw was laid every ten yards down the center of each range.
With the heavy wooden shield and a javelin, the recruits took turns launching the missiles. Most had an issue balancing the shield while throwing the javelin. A few understood the benefit of counterbalancing the shield and using the momentum to aid their throw. Recruit Sisera was one of them. Sergeant Horus took notice.
After assessing their abilities, some recruits were pulled out for extra javelin training. Others were lined up and instructed to touch the edges of their shields together. They were split in half and turned to face each other. For the rest of the morning, the recruits jabbed at the other’s shields with the javelin.
“You can only throw a javelin once and kill one enemy,” an Optio explained. “Or you can stab over your shield a hundred times and kill a hundred of the enemy.”
For the rest of the day, the recruits were rotated between the shield wall and the range. At the end of the day, the entire training Century was queued up at the range.
“Recruits. You have four targets on the range,” Corporal Thornernus announced while pointing at the straw bales. “Hit the fourth bale and you get full rations. Miss it and you’ll receive three quarters rations. Hit the third target and you’ll also receive three quarters rations. Miss three and you earn half rations. You have three javelins to earn your food.”
Recruit Sisera was fifth in line. Along the range, fifteen of the recruits had managed to reach the fourth target. Five had hit it twice while the other ten had only hit it with one of their three javelins. Alerio stepped up and rocked his shield up while dropping his right arm back. He rocked transferring the power of the dropping shield through his shoulders and into his right arm. The javelin launched high into the air and arched over. Its point drove into the back edge of the fourth target.
“Full ration,” announced a Sergeant. “Two more throws.”
But, Alerio didn’t pay attention. He was bent over with his right shoulder tucked into his shield. Behind the shield, he held the painful shoulder in his left hand. Sergeant Horus saw the agony displayed on the Recruit’s face and walked over.
“Can you do that left-handed?” he asked.
“Yes, Optio,” Alerio replied. “I believe I can.”
“Do it,” Horus ordered.
With the shield on his right arm and the javelin in his left, Recruit Sisera dropped the next two javelins on either end of the fourth straw bale. Sargent Horus strolled away as if he wasn’t impressed.
Chapter 36 - Every Recruit Has a Weakness
After two weeks of gladii and javelin practice with the shields. Running until the distance became twenty miles and weekly swimming, the recruits returned from the mess hall.
The range had been adjusted. Stacks of straw bales were staggered downrange and armorers stood by a wagon.
“Recruits with archery experience step out,” a Sergeant ordered. “The rest of you break into squads.”
Every Legionary was trained on the bow. However, it was a specialty and, only those with true talent would be assigned to a Bowmen Century. Recruit Sisera stayed with the non-archers.
The experienced archers gathered at the armorer’s wagon and selected bows. After stringing them, they tested the pull. Many returned the original bow and selected another. Once they held bows that met their personal preference, they marched to the range.
Sergeant Horus pointed to Recruit Sisera and waved him over.
“What? No left-handed archery?” asked the Sergeant.
“The bow has never been my friend,” Alerio admitted.
The future archers pulled and soon every target bristled with arrows. As they notched and fired, the inexperienced Recruits were instructed on the finer points of archery.
Over the next several weeks, all the Recruits became proficient with the bow. While they could earn full rations some of the time, the experienced archers earned double rations. The Legion valued and rewarded their specialists.
Chapter 37 - Recruit Guard Duty
Along with the running, swimming and weapons practice, the Recruits were instructed in proper military procedures. After learning ranks and the rules governing military orders, the Recruits were assigned guard duty.
Throughout the day and night, recruits were assigned to walk circuits around the recruit camp. The Century had been issued their metal gladii, bows, and iron tipped javelins. Besides the weapons, their armor had been changed out for new issues. Guarding was more than an exercise. Now it was necessary to protect the valuable equipment.
While training continued, the Recruits began to work more and more in specialized groups. Archers practiced with their bows, and
future infantrymen with shields, javelins, and gladii. They all joined in for marching and tactical maneuvering.
As the training progressed, five of the Optios and Corporal Thornernus discussed the merits of each Recruit. Thornernus expressed his interest in Sisera and asked the others to pass on him. They had begun the selection process and one Recruit wouldn’t make a difference. All the instructors expressed interest in groups of Recruits, except for Optio Horus. He kept his own counsel.
Recruit Sisera and a Recruit from another tent had the overnight guard duty. As the sun rose, their relief marched up and the two sentries retired to their tents. They would be allowed to sleep in before joining the day’s training.
Corporal Thornernus didn’t have to teach a class until later in the day so he lounged in the instructor’s tent. Growing bored with the inactivity, he decided to check on the progress of some Recruits who were lagging in their swordsmanship. The NCO tossed aside the tent flap and noticed a Recruit sneaking between the tents.
The Recruit was bent over to keep a low profile. Thornernus observed him vanishing from sight before reappearing on the other side of a structure. A Recruit avoiding training wasn’t unusual but this one had a knife in his hand. When the man ducked into a specific tent, Thornernus ran over to question the Recruit.
Alerio Sisera was sleeping in his bedroll at the back of his tent. He’d pulled the blanket over his head in an attempt to ignore the fact it was late in the morning. When the knifeman entered, he was temporarily blind. Once the tent flap fell his eyes began to adjust to the dark interior.
He located the sleeping Recruit and was two steps towards his target when the tent flap opened.
Corporal Thornernus stepped in and demanded, “What’s going on here?”
The Corporal was also partially blinded in the dim light, but he was an experienced fighter. When the knife swung in his direction, he read the body language and leaned back. Unfortunately, his hand came up in a defensive reflex and the knife edge sliced his palm open.
Alerio heard the Corporal’s question and grunt from being slashed. Still wrapped in his blanket, he sat up to explain why he was in bed while his squad was out training. Suddenly, a shape hurled itself across the tent. Alerio swung his legs up, caught the attacking knifeman in the midsection, and vaulted the man up and over. The taut side of the tent gave way from the man’s weight, a little, before rebounding.
The knifeman bounced off the goatskin leather side and landed partially tangled in Alerio’s blanket. That’s when Alerio noticed the knife. From under the crumpled blanket, the blade jabbed out. Alerio rolled away and his hand landed on his pearl handled knife. Drawing the long-curved blade, he stabbed at the moving blanket trying to defend himself from the knifeman.
A man rose, tossed off the blanket, and stooped in a fighting stance. Before he could attack, a big fist connected with his head. He crumpled to the floor of the tent. Corporal Thornernus added a swift kick to be sure the man would stay down.
“The cūlus cut me,” he complained. “Recruit Sisera drag, this piece of merda outside and let’s have a talk with him.”
Chapter 38 - Five, No Seven Republic Golds
The man woke to bright sunlight and four men standing over him. He attempted to move an arm but it was stretched out. As was the other arm and both of his legs. He realized he was staked out, spread eagle on the hot sand.
“Do you recognize him?” Optio Horus asked.
“He was one of the late arriving recruits,” replied Corporal Thornernus. His left hand was wrapped in a bloody bandage, “From the Western provinces, I believe.”
“Recruit Sisera. You’re from the West. Do you know him?” another Sergeant inquired.
“No Optio. I’ve seen him during training but we’ve never exchanged words,” Alerio reported.
“Optio. Corporal. I have to ask you to leave the area,” Sergeant Horus said as he pulled a curved knife from his hip. The dagger was the same shape as Alerio’s pearl inlaid weapon except it was sans any fancy decorations. Horus added as Alerio began to leave with the NCOs, “Sisera, you stay.”
The Legion Raider knelt beside the staked-out man and asked a simple question, “Why?”
“Why what?” the man replied defiantly.
“In spite of the training you’re still a civilian at heart,” Horus explained. “Let me enlighten you about military field justice. I am a Sergeant and I asked a question. Why?”
The man spit at the Optio. Without a word, Horus nicked the side of the bridge of the man’s nose. Drops of blood began running into the eye on that side.
“If I had my gang here you wouldn’t be able to lay a hand on me,” the man blustered, but the effect was diminished by his attempt to dump the pooling blood from his eye socket. “Back home I’m important.”
“Why?” asked the Sergeant.
“There’s a seven Republic gold reward on him, dead or alive,” the man stated.
“The bounty has gone up. It was five gold,” Alerio said. Horus looked at Alerio and tilted his head as if listening for more, “It was in a pub and I got mixed up in a knife fight with some members of the Cruor gang.”
“I understand revenge and a bounty,” Horus replied. “but just how many of the gang?”
“Seven or eight, I can’t remember,” admitted Alerio.
“You butchered them all,” the man screamed. “The Cruor want you dead.”
An evil grin crept over Horus’ face before he started laughing. The laughter was so out of character for the drab Sergeant, that Alerio pulled back a few steps.
“Seven or eight,” the Raider Optio mumbled as he cut the straps from the man’s arms and legs.
He helped the failed assassin to his feet and took a cloth from a pouch and dabbed away the blood from the side of the man’s nose. Then, he offered the man a drink from his water bag. A gentle shove and the Optio guided the man towards the practice field. Alerio followed.
Chapter 39 - Graduation Day
Corporal Thornernus saw the three men approaching and noticed the Sergeant’s hand on the knifeman’s shoulder. They walked towards the sword practice area. The Corporal called the other Recruits over and had them form a semicircle so they could watch.
The would-be murderer was handed a gladius and Horus drew his.
“I’m not going to fight you, Optio,” the man announced.
“This is a gladius,” Horus said as if delivering a lecture. He walked around the knifeman as he spoke to the assembled Recruits. “We teach you to hack and chop because, in a shield wall, things get messy.”
He strolled back and forth, with his back to the assassin, as he lectured.
“In truth, the gladius is an elegant weapon,” he said finally stopping and standing still. “The blade is perfect for…”
The knifeman charged at Horus’ unprotected back. His blade swung level with the Sergeant’s head to deliver a killing blow.
Alerio was too far away to help. He watched, horrified, expecting to see the Raider NCO die.
Horus dropped to a knee. The blade of his gladius extended backwards from under his arm. It skewed the surprised knifeman. A man could recover from a puncture wound if treated quickly. But, as Alerio observed, when the gladius was twisted in a man’s gut, his intestines get wrapped around the blade and were pulled out when the sword was removed.
The knifeman sank to his knees. His hands attempting to hold in his intestines.
“The gladius is an elegant weapon,” Horus explained as he stood up. “The blade is perfect for stabbing. As such, one must be aware and try to prevent training accidents.”
“You. Run and fetch a Medic,” Corporal Thornernus ordered. He had selected a notoriously slow Recruit for the task.
Act 4
Chapter 40 - The Selection Process
Corporal Thornernus stood in front of his Optio’s desk. Beside him were Sergeant Horus and Recruit Sisera.
“I agree, Sisera can’t be stationed at the Transfer Post,” the Sergeant
stated. “It’s too much temptation for gang assassins and bounty hunters. Has he completed training? Should he? Or should we discharge him for the good of the Legion?”
“As one of his instructors, I’d graduate him today,” Thornernus offered. “But I don’t know of any unit that wants to be saddled with a wanted man.”
Horus who had been silent, spoke up, “The Raiders will take him.”
The Post Transfer Optio spun a piece of parchment around and shoved it across his desk.
“Recruit Sisera sign here,” he ordered while pointing to the bottom of the form.
Alerio leaned down and jotted his name on the paper. Next, the Corporal Thornernus and the Sergeant Horus, as his instructors, signed off on the Recruit’s fitness. The Post’s Sergeant studied the signatures. After checking to be sure it was signed properly, he stood and offered his hand to Alerio.
“Private Sisera,” he said while gripping Alerio’s wrist. “Let me be the first to congratulate you. Welcome to the Legion.”
Corporal Thornernus and Optio Horus both added their congratulations while Alerio thanked them for the hours of instruction. Finally, the Post’s Sergeant had enough.
“Out, get out of my office,” he said with a smile. “I have real work to do. Not babysitting a bunch of glad-handing Legionaries.”
Outside of the Optio’s office, Horus turned to the Corporal, “Thornernus, I need Sisera’s gear brought to my quarters.”
“I’ll arrange it,” the Corporal replied. “When do you leave?”
“Tonight, after dark,” the Raider explained.
“You know most people like to travel during the day,” offered Thornernus.
A rare smile crossed the Raider NCO’s face. “Most people don’t have a price on their head,” Horus replied.
Private Sisera opened his mouth, but Horus spoke first, “Not on you Private. The bounty is on me. The rebels are offering ten Republic golds for me, dead or alive.”
Clay Warrior Stories Boxset 1 Page 8