Chapter 41 - Traveling Raider Style
Shortly after dark, two figures marched out of the Transfer Post. They headed straight down the Republic road. The guard and Corporal Thornernus watched them until the men vanished into the dark.
“Dangerous for only two men to travel at night,” the Private observed.
“Not if they’re Raiders,” the Corporal replied as he stepped back. “Secure the gate.”
“Securing the gate, Corporal,” the guard stated as he swung the doors closed.
In the black of night, Horus angled off the road and looped back towards the harbor. Alerio followed silently in the footsteps of his Sergeant. They wandered back and forth as if lost until the Optio stopped.
“Over there,” he whispered.
Placing a hand on Alerio’s shoulder, he guided them to a small shrub tree. The Optio dropped to his knees and began to dig. Soon his hands touched a leather bag and he changed from digging down to digging around. Finally, with a grunt, he pulled the satchel free.
From the sack, he pulled two sets of rough woolen clothing and two hooded robes.
“Take off your uniform and stow it and your armor in here,” Horus directed as he shoved the workmen’s clothing into Alerio’s arms. “Keep your gladius but hide it under the cloak.”
Once dressed, the Legionaries each grabbed a side of the bag and continued walking towards the lights of the harbor town. A long trudge over the sand and rocks later, they stopped at the rear of a single-story warehouse. Horus dropped his side of the bag and jumped for the edge of the roof. With a powerful pull, he disappeared over the edge.
Seconds later, he leaned over the roof.
“Hand me the equipment bag,” he whispered.
Alerio jerked the bag to his chest and pressed it overhead. The weight lifted and the bag vanished. A moment later, Horus dropped from the roof.
“Let’s go see about a ride,” the Sergeant suggested. “And, I could use a drink after all the military stuff.”
They took an alleyway and emerged at the wide boulevard facing the harbor. Horus flipped the hood up and stooped so he appeared shorter and less threatening. Alerio flipped up his hood and stooped as well.
As far as anyone could tell, the two nondescript workmen entering the pub were there for a drink after a hard day’s labor. They took seats in the back and the thin one ordered two ales. The ale arrived and the two sat drinking quietly.
“Are we looking for a ride?” Alerio asked as he took another sip of the malty brew.
“We’re gathering information,” explained Horus. “That group in the corner are local thugs. They’re planning a robbery. Not our concern.”
“How do you know that?” Alerio inquired. “I’ve been sitting on the bench for as long as you. All I know about the pub’s patrons is a guy near the door likes the waitress a little too much.”
“Listen and watch their body language,” Horus instructed. “Most people say important things three or more times. Mostly to impress themselves. But also, to be sure everyone understands the issue. When one person leans forward again and again and says the same thing over and over, you can collect a little of the story with each telling. Soon, you’ll know the complete tale.”
“If not for law enforcement, why are we gathering information?” Alerio asked.
The pub door opened and two men entered. They examined the room before one stuck his head outside. Four more men came in and while three stood, three sat and huddled together.
“Them,” replied the Raider Sergeant. “Watch and tell me later what you learn.”
Of the three, one was fat and animated. He would lean in and speak softly. The two other men were very attentive and never took their eyes off the speaker. Four times he engaged one, but only once did he single out the other man. After a round of wine, the three stood and the six men left the pub.
“It was a scolding,” Alerio reported. “Both men messed up, but one really bad. The other not badly enough for a chewing out, but not good enough to be praised. The three standing were bodyguards. I noticed the swords and long knives. Care to tell me who they are?”
“The fat one is Speckled Pheasant, a Captain with the renegades,” Horus related. “The other two are his Lieutenants. I don’t know what they did but I agree with your analysis. Their mission didn’t go as planned. Time to go home.”
They set down their mugs, dropped a few coins on the table, and left the pub. Horus guided them along the boulevard passed the big piers where the merchant vessels lay tied to the docks.
“Optio. If they’re rebels,” asked Alerio as they walked. “Why don’t you bring them in?”
“Revolutionaries in name only here in Crotone,” Horus replied. “Until they do or say something rebellious, we can’t. Out at the Legion Forts, they cause trouble. Here, it’s mostly a protection racket. They extract funds from merchants to support the Cause. When the merchants get fed up, they’ll call for the Legion. In the meanwhile, we keep an eye on the renegades.”
Further down, fishing boats were anchored in the shallows. The two Legionaries stepped off the walkway and onto a rocky beach.
A campfire glowed in the distance and they angled up the beach towards the flames. As they approached, Alerio could see a man sitting and tending the fire.
“It’s a good night for a stroll,” Horus said to the man poking the fire.
“Not good for fishing,” replied the man. He didn’t look up.
“Still, I’d like to see your boat,” Horus insisted.
“If you’re going to be like that Sergeant,” the man said standing and reaching out to grasp Horus’s wrist. “We can be gone as soon as your gear arrives.”
There was a noise further up the incline and Alerio reached for his gladius.
“Steady there, Private,” Horus said. “It’s only our gear.”
Two men hiked into sight hauling their equipment bag. The man at the fire walked to the shoreline and began pulling on a rope. At the end of the line, rested a midsized fishing boat. It slowly came towards them.
Chapter 42 - Raider Post Eastern Province
Two men rowed and the third handled the rudder. At the entrance to the harbor, the men hoisted a sail and the fishing boat tracked into the wind. Horus curled up in his robe and went to sleep. Alerio, on the other hand, sat watching the dark shoreline race by. As they traveled, the land shifted from flat to hills. As the moon rose, the shore’s profile grew taller until the hills loomed over the water.
Someone shoved a piece of bread and a wedge of cheese into his hand. He ate as he marveled at the waves and the illumination of the moon reflecting off the water.
Later as the sun touched the smooth horizon, the boat turned and entered the mouth of a river. Steep cliffs loomed over both sides of the waterway. Horus stood, stretched and yawned.
“Introductions,” he announced as two men pulled down the sail. “This is Private Alerio Sisera. He’s good with a gladius and has a price on his head.”
Alerio was shocked the Optio would reveal information about the bounty.
“How much?” the man on the till asked.
“Private Sisera, this is Decanus Remigius,” Horus said. “It’s seven Republic golds.”
“Ba, I’m up to nine,” Remigius bragged. “Welcome to the Raiders, Sisera.”
“The two rowing are Lance Corporal Wido and Private Ireneus,” Horus said before turning to the pilot. “Remigius. We overheard our favorite rebel Captain, Speckled Pheasant, chewing out two of his Lieutenants. Can you find out what they were discussing?”
“Absolutely Sergeant,” the Decanus replied. “After we do a little fishing. We have to maintain our cover.”
“Just get me the information,” Horus ordered as the fishing boat bumped against a rough pier.
While the Raider Sergeant jumped to the dock, Wido and Ireneus hoisted the equipment bag and tossed it onto the rickety boards. Alerio jumped next.
“Private Sisera bring the bag,” Horus ordered a
s he started up a narrow trail.
Alerio looked up to the top of the hill looming over the river. The trail was no more than a winding footpath carved into the side of the towering knoll. He lifted the bag and placed a foot on the track. It slipped on the small pebbles scattered over the risers.
“Careful there Private,” Lance Corporal Remigius shouted as the crew dipped the oars and moved the fishing boat down the river.
High above, Optio Horus reached the top and vanished over the crest. Alerio adjusted the load on his shoulders and gently placed his foot. Behind him, laughter rolled across the water from the retreating fishing boat.
Chapter 43 - Legion Raider Camp
Alerio struggled to the top. The land flattened and stretched for about twenty yards before dipping off. He traipsed to the other edge and happily found a set of steps carved into the hill side. Below him, Legion tents were neatly arranged in a wide valley. On the far side of the valley, the slope rose until it was higher than his plateau.
Off to his right, three Legionaries stood watch on a peak at a large tube of leather. They had their backs to him looking away from the valley. To his left, a range was organized. Legionaries and men in robes performed weapons training. Behind the range, a small well-traveled ravine marked the exit to the encampment.
He was three stepped down when a Corporal and a Decanus jogged up. They waited for him at the bottom of the stairs.
“Private Sisera. I’ll take Optio Horus’ gear,” the Corporal said. “This is Lance Corporal Velius. He’s your squad leader. I’ll get with you later.”
The Corporal opened the bag and grabbed the Sergeant’s gear. He jogged off without another word.
“Is he always so talkative?” Alerio asked Decanus Velius.
“Centurion Stylianus is off Post and Corporal Manfredus has been running the show, solo,” Velius replied. “He has a lot to discuss with Horus. Follow me.”
They strolled between evenly placed tents on straight walkways. On the last row before a range, Velius turned towards a tent. Men were sitting outside watching the action on the range while sharpening gladii, mending armor, or patching big heavy infantry shields.
“Private Sisera is our new guy,” Velius announced. “Show him the ropes. I’ve got an NCO meeting.”
The Lance Corporal spun on his heels and rushed off.
“Alerio Sisera,” Alerio said introducing himself to the seven Legionaries.
None looked up. After an uncomfortable length of time, one stopped and jerked as if just noticing Alerio.
“Wow, where did you come from?” the Legionary asked. “You shouldn’t sneak up on a man like that. Bad for the nerves, you know.”
Another stopped honing his blade with a stone and studied Alerio from toes to head.
“He’s a big lad,” he observed. “They must feed them good in recruit training these days. When I graduated, I was nothing but skin and bones.”
A rock flew over and struck the man in the shoulder.
“That’s because you were on quarter rations the whole time,” another squad member teased.
“Because you are uncoordinated,” the rock thrower added.
“I’m not uncoordinated,” pleaded the Legionary. “It’s just the instructors didn’t like me.”
“Don’t mind them Alerio. Their mothers dropped them on their heads when they were babies,” another Legionary said as he stood. “Name’s Didacus. Let me show you to your bunk.”
Didacus ushered Alerio into the tent and pointed out a wooden pallet next to the entrance.
“We slept on the ground in training. This is much better than being a Recruit,” Alerio stated.
“Mountain spiders and scorpions,” Didacus replied flatly. “They like the body’s warmth so we sleep off the ground.”
Before Alerio could say more, shouting came from outside the tent. They stepped out to find a bowman standing nose to nose with one of their Legionaries.
“If you think you can do better, unknot your coin purse and lay a few down,” the Archer challenged.
Didacus looked at another squad member, “What now?”
“Pholus said the targets were too close. Said, he could hit those targets with his javelin,” he recounted. “Seems the Veles heard him and took offense.”
“Come on big mouth,” the skirmisher challenged. “Let’s see what you and your javelin can do.”
“Not only me,” Pholus bragged. “My whole squad can hit those targets.”
Didacus slapped a palm to his forehead and exclaimed, “This is going to be expensive.”
“Why is that?” Alerio asked.
“We are Second Squad, heavy infantry, Raider Century,” Didacus said with pride. “You take on one of us, you get all of us.”
“Hold on a second,” Alerio said loudly. The Archer and Pholus turned to look at him. “How about we go javelins against bows, then double or nothing, gladii against gladii,” he suggested feeling proud about maybe saving his new squad some coin.
“No, javelin against bow,” the light infantryman offered. “Then we switch to bow against javelin.”
“Done,” Pholus shouted. “Five coppers each.”
Alerio was shaken. He’d meant to tilt the competition in his favor. Now, with the bow as the second weapon, he worried about letting his new squad down.
The eight heavy infantrymen grabbed their three javelins and walked to the range.
“Three javelins at the targets and we’ll shoot three arrows.,” the Veles explained. “Then we switch and the archers will throw three javelins. Afterwards, we’ll sit back and count our money.”
Every Light Infantryman laughed knowing they were proficient with the javelin; the Heavy Infantrymen probably not so much with the bow.
Didacus, Pholus and the other five threw their three javelins. The targets bristled with spears near the center point. Alerio stepped up and one after the other of his javelins hit center mass. His new squad mates pounded his back and taunted the Archers.
The skirmishers released three arrows each and their arrows matched the javelins. Bows were brought out for the Infantrymen and javelins for the Velites. The bowmen threw first.
Only a few javelins landed center target, yet the skirmishers acquitted themselves nicely. The first seven Infantrymen shot arrows.
After the round, the Velites held an edge. Everyone stepped back as Alerio walked to the line.
Seeing as Alerio had saved the Infantrymen with his javelin throws, the squad expected their new guy to win the match.
“Just like you did with the javelins,” encouraged Pholus.
Alerio’s palms started to sweat. He had to inhale deeply several times while trying to steady his nerves. The first arrow hit the edge of the target. A groan erupted from the infantrymen. When his second hit the bottom of the target, they remained silent. On his third shot, they held their breath. It zoomed over the mound and stuck in the earthen embankment behind the range.
“Told you the instructors were getting soft in recruit training,” complained Pholus. “With bow work that sad, he should have been on quarter rations.”
None of the infantrymen would meet the new guy’s eyes. They handed over their coins to the elated Light Infantrymen. Alerio surrendered the bow to an armorer.
“That’s really bad archery,” Horus called out.
The Optio, Corporal Manfredus, and Decanus Velius had arrived to watch the competition. They stood in a group on the slope by the tents. Behind them, a Legionary was positioned with his back to the NCOs. He wasn’t watching the match; he was focused on the high hill with the spotting tube.
The Sergeant dug into a pouch and pulled out a coin. He flipped it into the air and the sunlight reflected off the spinning Republic Silver.
“Sword drills,” he announced as he closed a fist around the coin. “Private Sisera will represent the Heavy Infantry. Velites, pick your two best swordsmen. Four touches for the win.”
Alerio pulled his gladius and walked to a sandy pi
t. He swung the weapon a few times before letting it rest on his right thigh. The infantry squad had no idea if the new Private was any good with a gladius. Nevertheless, he was one of them so they reluctantly pulled out more coins. While bets were placed, two broad shouldered skirmishers joined Alerio in the pit.
“Private Didacus, loan Private Sisera your gladius,” Optio Horus ordered.
Didacus drew his weapon and, with confusion on his face, walked to the pit.
“Is something wrong with your gladius?” he asked Alerio.
“I believe the Sergeant is going to redefine gladius drills,” Alerio replied as he took the sword with his left hand.
“Now we know Velites are tough but they spend most of their time with the bow and javelin,” Sergeant Horus stated. “It’s not fair to pit them up against a heavy infantryman who practices daily with the gladius.”
The light infantrymen nodded and murmured about the unfairness of the sword fight. Even if they had the advantage of rotating fighters against one infantryman, the gladius wasn’t their primary weapon.
“So, for this fight, it’ll be two against one,” the Optio explained as he flipped the Republic Silver to the Legionary managing the bets. “Place that on Sisera.”
Suddenly the Velites crowded around the Legionary shoving coins at the hurried man. Betting was heavy yet, only a few infantrymen added to their wagers. The Scouts, who had been watching from the hill sides, walked down to add their coin to the pile for the skirmishers. One hesitated and studied the young infantryman.
Corporal Ceyx Eolus of the Scouts watched as the infantryman’s left hand grasped the gladius offered by Didacus. The grip was firm and the arm moved with no hesitation. He walked over, and to the surprise of his fellow Velites, tossed coins onto Alerio’s pile.
“Private Sisera are you ready?” Horus asked. When Alerio slammed the hilt to his chest, the Optio turned to the two light infantrymen, “Velites. Are you ready?” They also saluted. “Begin,” instructed Horus.
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