Rather than placing the blades in a high guard, Alerio held them down as if he were about to impale a charging bull. The skirmishers separated by four steps and shuffled forward.
The first to strike was the Veles facing Alerio’s right gladius. His strike was designed to engage the blade and keep it occupied defending against the attack.
While the blades clashed, the skirmisher, facing the left gladius, delivered a powerful smash. It was designed to put the blade in the weaker arm out of position and open a path to the infantryman’s chest. The ploy would have worked if Alerio’s left arm was weaker.
Alerio dueled with his right gladius countering the skirmisher move for move. When his left blade was smashed down, he didn’t resist. Instead, he used the power of the Veles’ wallop to propel his gladius. The blade swung down and around. Before it arched higher than his shoulder, the light infantrymen stepped forward trying to score the first touch. Momentum carried the blade from the apex of the arc directly into the advancing skirmishers chest.
As the point of the left gladius stopped the advancing Veles, Alerio rotated his right wrist. The blades went from clashing against each other to Alerio’s spinning around his opponent’s blade. The effect halted the skirmisher’s blade in mid attack. Alerio’s gladius reached out and touched the man’s shoulder.
“Two touches for Private Sisera,” Horus announced as the fighters separated.
The Heavy Infantrymen were yelling and slapping each other on the backs. It didn’t matter they’d been shy in betting on the young man. As one of their own, he’d get their full vocal support.
Corporal Eolus, the Light Infantryman, didn’t display any outward emotion. His face was scrunched down as the Scout mentally went over each move of the first round.
The skirmishers saluted the heavy infantryman and brought their gladii up in a high guard. Alerio bowed to them, raised his gladii above his shoulders and held them wide apart. It seemed as if he was inviting the pair of Velites to go for his unguarded chest. They did.
As their blade tips dropped and thrust forward, Alerio rotated his blades inward. The four blades met. Alerio’s were circling rapidly while the skirmishers were on a straight line held almost at arms’ length. Private Sisera’s gladii drove the attacking blades apart. Now it was a race to see which of the combatants could recover first and bring their weapons back to the line of attack.
Alerio let his blades continue to circle until they were inside his opponent’s. He stepped forward and each blade touched a Veles’ chest.
“Two more touches,” Horus announced. “That’s four and the winner is Private Sisera.”
Didacus raced forward and took back his gladius. He inspected the blade before saying, “You’re going to grind out the nicks. Oh, and nice sword work.”
Alerio was halfway out of the pit when a voice cried out, “Signal! Alert Signal!”
The Legionary standing behind the NCOs was speaking to the Sergeant. On the high peak, one of the men at the scope was waving his arms.
“Go,” he said to the Signalman. Then to the Lance Corporal. “Velius, have your squad stand by.”
Decanus Velius shouted down to his men on the practice field, “Second Squad gear up.”
While the infantrymen of Second Squad jogged to their tents, a Legionary from the spotting scope was fast roping from the high peak. He touched the valley floor as the duty Signalman reached the foot of the cliff. They exchanged words and, before any of Second Squad had time to strap on the rest of their armor, the Signalman was back speaking with the Sergeant.
“Lance Corporal Velius. Two wagons pulled by oxen teams. Plus, four guards are traveling from the North,” Horus reported. “Get your squad to the pass. If they don’t have contraband, collect a tax and let them go. And remember, it’s easier to dispose of renegade bodies than to replace a Legionary.”
Chapter 44 - The Eastern Pass
A squad of Light Infantry had led Second Squad out of the Legion Camp. Some went to reinforce the defensive positions guarding the approach to the valley. Others continued down the gullies and ravines making sure the way was clear for the men in heavy helmets, thick leather armor and carrying the large curved shields.
In battle formation, the Heavy Infantry formed a moveable and almost impenetrable wall. Conversely, in steep sided canyons, their movements were restricted by the terrain. The Light Infantry patrol went first to give the heavies warning of any ambush attempted by an enemy force.
Once on the flat land of the pass, the squad of heavy infantry was in its element. They went online blocking the center of the gap.
Alerio rested the edge of his shield on the ground. As an unproven Legionary, the Decanus had placed him third from the far right. This was the enemy’s left side and traditionally the weakest point of an attacking line.
Private Pholus anchored the far-right side. Private Didacus anchored the opposite end of the eight-man line. Both ends were key to pivoting movements and both Legionaries were proven combat veterans.
Lance Corporal Velius paced behind the line talking to each Legionary. His job was command and control. If this was a Century formation, he would be looking to the Corporal or the Optio for guidance and orders. But this was a patrol stretched across a third of the narrow pass between the foothills. Here, his word was law and his orders unquestionable.
The Scout, who had gone into the hills for a better view, reported back.
“The two wagons are about a quarter of a mile out,” he reported to Decanus Velius. “I couldn’t see what they’re hauling. But their guards are armed with bows and long swords.”
“Might be a merchant guarding a valuable shipment,” Velius replied. “Or Greek revolutionaries trying to bring in weapons. We’ll see.”
Alerio overheard the conversation and strained his eyes trying to see the caravan. There was a smidgen of dust in the distance, but rising against the flat range stretching north, he couldn’t tell if it was small and close or, towering and far away. What he could make out in the hazy distance were the tops of ragged mountains. From the pass, they appeared to be no more than teeth on a saw.
The Light Infantryman faded back behind the shields and joined four others. The five Velites had baskets of javelins and would act as close in artillery if it came to a fight. Between the missiles and the moving wall bristling with steel, a reinforced squad of Legionaries was a formidable force. In this case, it proved to be unnecessary.
Two of the caravan’s guards jogged ahead of the wagons. The Legionaries shields were up and only the tops of the heavy infantry’s helmets and eyes were visible. Behind the shields, gladii were sheathed as each Legionary held an iron tipped javelin in their right hand.
The merchant guards stopped ten feet from the line. They grinned at the show of military might and raised their hands away from their curved long swords. As the oxen drawn wagons approached, Lance Corporal Velius and Private Didacus took a circular path to the side of the first wagon. Their route was designed so they wouldn’t block the line of attack between the Legion Squad and the wagons.
“What are you hauling?” Velius asked as the oxen waddled to a stop.
The oxen herder pointed to one of the guards trailing the wagons. At the rear of the last wagon, a man, with soft footfalls and almost no movement to his shoulders, seemed to glide forward to the second wagon. His face was hidden behind a scarf and long sleeves hid most of his arms. With nimble fingers, he untied a strap and peeled back the cover.
He moved gracefully to the first wagon and repeated the procedure.
“What are you hauling?” Velius repeated.
“Honey from the Golden Valley,” the man said in a sing song accent. Then he reached over the wagon’s side and his arms disappeared.
Alerio and the rest of the squad flexed. Didacus shifted his shield to provide cover for himself and the Decanus if it came to a fight. The man didn’t brandish a weapon when his arms reappeared.
He lifted out a polished wood box. With it
balanced on a sideboard, he raised the top and extracted a pouch of coins and a scroll. He offered the items to Velius.
Ignoring the offerings, the Lance Corporal marched over to get a better look at the box. Inside, were more purses of coin and a stack of identical scrolls. He shifted his focus to the wagon and inspected the cargo. After carefully looking over the short, stubby amphorae, he moved to the second wagon. Once satisfied the wagons held nothing except jars of honey, he marched back to the man.
“There’s a tax,” Velius began to explain but the man ended the conversation by handing the Decanus a coin pouch.
“All right move along,” the Lance Corporal ordered. “Second Squad, by fours, wheel left and wheel right.”
The line of Legionaries broke as the four on the left pivoted as a unit until they were lined up along the pass instead of across it. The right three Legionaries mirrored the maneuver and were joined by Didacus as they lined up along the other side of the pass. If the caravan guards attacked, they would be trapped between the shields of the Legionaries. Smartly, they simply urged the oxen into motion.
As the wagon wheels began to turn, the man handed Velius the scroll.
“For your commanders,” the man said as the second wagon rolled by. He fell in behind it and the caravan moved away.
The Decanus waited until the wagons were out of arrow shot distance before ordering the squad to stand down. He unrolled the surprisingly short scroll. Usually a scroll was used for long missives and parchment for short notes and letters. This had hardwood knobs and a thick center post but only a short section of parchment connected at the end.
He read from the odd scroll, ‘Return the Nocte Apibus. Retribution is due. Heed this, the Dulce Pugno.’
The man said it was for his commanders and Velius would happily deliver the scroll. Any document signed, from the Dulce Pugno or Sweet Fist, was a document he’d gladly turn over to higher authorities.
Before he could return to the Raider Camp, his squad was required to patrol the areas on either side of the pass. A caravan was a good lure to draw out a squad. If an enemy wanted to attack, they could wait to see if the Legionaries relaxed after checking the merchant’s vehicles. Second Squad wouldn’t relax.
“Left and right units, forward march,” the Lance Corporal ordered. The four men on the left and four on the right side began marching towards each other. When they were four steps apart, he commanded, “Squad, halt, one-two.”
“Left flank, right face. Right flank, left face,” Velius ordered. The two units performed the ninety degree turns and now the squad faced in one direction. “Second Squad, Raider Century, forward march, left, stomp, left stomp,” he directed the squad. They marched Eastward, out of the pass, and onto the plain.
While the squad drilled and patrolled, the Light Infantrymen headed South following the caravan. Although they couldn’t see its destination they could judge if the merchant’s wagons halted or veered off the road leading to the trading town.
For decades, the trading town, some five miles from the pass, had been the resupply and preparation stop for caravans and travelers heading north. For those traveling south from across the plain, the trading town was the first civilized settlement they encountered in over a hundred and fifty miles. It was a major economic center due to its location. To avoid the trading town and the pass, travelers would need to journey hundreds of miles to the west and travel around the mountains or, set sail on the ocean to the east.
The squad marched, drilled, and patrolled on both sides of the pass until the sun hung low over the horizon.
“Second Squad, route step,” commanded Velius. This directed the squad to break their uniformed steps and allowed each man to choose his own footing.
They angled off the pass, climbed into the ravine, and hiked upward towards the Raider Camp.
Chapter 45 - Quarters of Raider Optio Horus
Alerio sat cleaning his gear. As the junior member of the squad, he was forced to a position almost to the next tent in the row. Across the walkway, First Squad was cleaning their gear. They had been training or rotating to guard posts during the day while Second Squad patrolled. Insults and taunting were bantered back and forth across the walkway as both squads sat cleaning their gear.
Second Squad’s Decanus Velius had continued on to the command tent. After reporting in, he would return to inspect the equipment. No one wanted to fail inspection as it meant extra guard duty, punishment, or latrine duty, which to everyone, was the worst punishment.
The latrines were downhill from the weapon’s range and beside the trail leading out of the camp. In the view of most Legionaries, it was the perfect spot. An enemy who attempted to infiltrate the camp from that side of the trail would have to dodge the deep holes, half filled with merda.
Alerio’s armor, shield, knife, and the pearl handled dagger were cleaned and laid out for inspection. He was honing Private Didacus’ gladius and planned to start on his next. It had been a good first day with the new squad. The heat of the day passed and it was turning into a pleasant evening. Even though he would draw third shift guard duty, Alerio was happy.
Lance Corporal Ceyx Eolus climbed the hill from the range after a visit to the latrine. He was preoccupied with planning evening patrols and guard posts for his Light Infantry squad. As usual, he ignored the barrage of heavy infantrymen’s barbs as he made his way to his tent on the second row.
Ceyx marched stoically between the flying insults and was almost to his tent when a glint from an Infantryman’s display of equipment drew his attention. Ceyx stopped and his mouth dropped open in surprise and horror. Laying among the armor was a forbidden dagger.
The gear belonged to the young Infantryman who had defeated two skirmishers that morning.
“Where did you buy that?” the Decanus demanded while pointing to the pearl handled dagger.
“What, this?” Alerio asked as he leaned over and picked up the curved weapon. “I didn’t buy it.”
“Do you know what the inscription on the blade means?” inquired Eolus.
“No. I was presented the knife as a reward for killing four assailants,” Alerio bragged as he twirled the dagger, showing off.
Ceyx stared at the young Legionary with a shocked look on his face. As he opened his mouth to speak, a Signalman ran up.
“Lance Corporal Eolus. Optio Horus wants you at the command tent right away,” he said while still six steps from the Velites NCO. “He said to drop everything and double time.”
Ceyx was torn. He needed to finish with the young Legionary but the summons sounded urgent.
“Put the dagger away,” he ordered. “Hide it. Don’t let anyone see it until we speak.”
After making sure the Legionary stashed the pearl handled dagger out of sight, Decanus Eolus spun and ran for the command tent.
***
“Eolus. You’re from the East,” Horus said holding out the scroll. “Can you make sense of this?”
Eolus took the scroll and unrolled the short piece of parchment. For longer than it took to read it, he gazed at the words.
‘Return the Nocte Apibus. Retribution is due. Heed this, the Dulce Pugno.’
His hands shook as he returned the scroll to the Sergeant.
“Bring the young Legionary here. The new swordsman with Second Squad,” he said softly as if it were a secret. “Have him bring the dagger.”
“I don’t understand,” pleaded Horus. “What does Private Sisera have to do with the message?”
“Please Optio. I’ll explain, but I need the Private and his dagger,” Ceyx begged. “It’s important.”
“Bring me Private Sisera. He’s with Second Squad, heavy infantry,” Horus ordered to the duty Signalman. “Ask him to bring the dagger.”
Corporal Manfredus was at his desk jotting numbers in his log book. As the Century’s treasurer, he was responsible for their burial money, pay and any taxes they collected for the Republic. As well, he was the second most senior NCO in the Legion unit.<
br />
He looked up from the ledger, “What’s with the hush, hush Lance Corporal Eolus? It’s just a message. So, tell us what you know.”
“If it was just a message, I’d gladly give you my interpretation,” stated Ceyx Eolus. “But its meaning goes deeper and the ramifications deadlier. Please, let’s wait for the Private.”
Chapter 46 - Nocte Apibus / Night Bees
“Private Sisera, reporting as ordered,” announced Alerio as he stepped into the command tent.
“Show them the dagger,” ordered Decanus Eolus.
Alerio reached into his tunic and took out a package. He unwrapped the soft leather wrapping to reveal an ornate sheath. When he pulled the pearl handled dagger, Eolus held out his hand.
“This is a Nocte Apis as referred to in the message,” Eolus explained as he displayed the weapon to the occupants of the tent. “None may possess a Night Bee except a brother of the Dulce Pugno, or in laymen’s terms, an assassin of the Sweet Fist.”
“For this, they threaten retribution?” asked Sergeant Horus. “Many of us have bounties on our heads. What’s different about a bounty from the Dulce Pugno?”
“The bounties on our heads are from alley rats,” Lance Corporal Eolus replied. “They’re too cowardly to attack us themselves. So, they offer money hoping someone else will do the killing for them. Sometimes people try but mostly, no one takes them up on the offer.”
“True enough,” admitted Horus. “The Greek renegades talk a lot but never actually follow through unless they catch one of us alone. So again, what makes the Sweet Fist’s threat different?”
“Let me tell you a story,” Eolus said as he handed the long, curved knife back to Alerio. “I’m from East of the mountains and the legend is told around the evening fires as a cautionary tale.”
Chapter 47 - Dulce Pugno / Sweet Fist
“Centuries ago, a wandering troop of families decided to head West,” began Eolus. “Their lands had been confiscated by the King’s tax collectors. Rather than become destitute, they went searching for a new home. The East was crowded with towns and farms, and also under control of the King. Their only escape was to cross over the Western mountains. Now, few had braved the high peaks, mostly hunters and trappers, but no group with entire families had attempted the passage.”
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