Clay Warrior Stories Boxset 1

by J. Clifton Slater

  “Fair enough,” Alerio said before looking down at the renegade under his foot. “Well?”

  “The Captain wants you dead,” the man announced. “By now, he’s already left for the Golden Valley. When he returns, he’ll cut your heart out.”

  Alerio reached down and snagged his gladius from the ground.

  “You know I’m getting mighty sick of the Captain and his threats,” Alerio admitted as he rested the tip of the blade on the back of the man’s neck. “I have one more question. How many men does the Captain have with him?”

  “Six archers and four swordsmen,” the man said gleefully. “Even if you catch him, you are a dead man.”

  Alerio slammed his fist into the bottom of the gladius and the blade penetrated three inches. Just enough to sever the man’s spinal cord.

  “What did he say?” asked Ceyx. The Legionary was having a hard time breathing and he held his injured arm delicately.

  “Just that you and I are dead men,” replied Alerio as he wiped the blade on the dead thug’s back. “Let’s go find you a doctor.”

  “What about Speckled Pheasant?” Ceyx asked before a coughing fit forced him to gasp for breath.

  “He’s long gone and traveling with a mixed squad,” Alerio reported. “Right now, I’m more worried about you.”

  Chapter 70 - Rest, You’ll be Fine in a Month

  “Two cracked ribs and a broken humerus,” the Doctor reported. “Happens every time someone stands behind a mule.”

  The Physician had spent fifteen minutes painfully poking and prodding Ceyx. The Legionary suffered the exanimation gamely, yet a few tears had dribbled down his cheeks.

  “I’ll wrap the ribs and put a splint on the arm,” the Doctor explained as he wound a length of fabric around Ceyx’s chest. “And put the arm in a sling. You should be fine in a month. No heavy lifting. Rest and let your body heal is my advice.”

  “What about something for the pain?” inquired Alerio.

  “I don’t peddle them any longer,” admitted the Doctor. “See the old man at the herb tent. He under cuts my prices anyway.”

  They left the physician’s small cubical in the professional building. On the way out, a man stepped in front of them.

  “You can sue them,” he stated.

  “What do you mean?” Alerio asked.

  “You can sue the merchant for lost wages,” the man announced. “I’m a lawyer.”

  “I don’t think the man who did this is in any condition to pay up,” said Ceyx as he pushed by the attorney.

  “Where to now?” Alerio asked.

  “To see the herb man,” Ceyx stated. “Then we’re going back and get some venison. We never did get to finish our meal.”

  ***

  A short while later, they were devouring platters of meat. Alerio was hunched while Ceyx sat stiffly with his back tight. He lifted a piece of venison straight up until it was level with his lips. Then he pulled it to his mouth and began chomping.

  “I need to get to the Golden Valley before Speckled Pheasant,” Alerio whined. “But I haven’t the foggiest notion how to get there. Or how to get past the rebel and his men.”

  “You’re not going alone,” Ceyx informed him. “Even if it kills me, I’m going with you.”

  “Can’t you just give me directions?” suggested Alerio.

  “Well that’s a thing,” admitted Ceyx. “It’s off a main mountain route and kind of north of there. You see, I’ve never actually been to the Golden Valley. As a matter of fact, very few people know the way.”

  The Legionaries busied themselves with meat, bread, honey wine, and worries. All in equal proportions. It was late in the afternoon and the sun was about to touch the mountain top.

  “I know the way to the Golden Valley,” the owner’s teenage son announced.

  He had been at the barrels bending a bow to fit the new string. Because the establishment was mostly empty, he heard the entire conversation. After some thought, he marched to the table.

  “I know a way to the valley,” he repeated. “A short cut that will get you there ahead of any wheeled cart.”

  “And how would you know a shortcut to a place no one knows?” challenged Ceyx.

  “Last year, I was in the high mountains hunting,” explained the teen. “I was two weeks out and deep in a river valley. Suddenly, I heard a voice crying for help. It came from the river, and when I looked, I spied a lad being swept towards the rapids. Don’t know why but, I dropped my gear and jumped in.”

  The teen shivered as if recalling the memory of the icy water.

  “I got a hand on his shoulder and towed him to the bank. He was in bad shape but I rubbed his hands, pounded on his back, and lit a big fire,” the teen reported. “He woke and I shared my rations with him. Sometime in the night, five more lads arrived. Most of them around nine years old.”

  “What were six nine-year-old kids doing out in the middle of nowhere?” asked Ceyx. “Was there an adult nearby?”

  “There was but the adult dove into the water to save the lad,” the teen stated. “They never saw him again. Here is the odd thing. The kids knew the way home but, they were too short to make the climb. Seems the adult would lift them over steep areas and let them walk when it was safe.”

  “So, where did the children live?” Alerio asked.

  “The Golden Valley,” the owner’s son replied. “It took me three weeks of lifting the wee ones, one by one, over riffs, across streams, and up short cliffs. But I got all of them home safely.”

  “Did you get a reward?” Ceyx inquired.

  “I make a good bow and great bow strings,” the teen bragged. “Every time I finish one, someone from the Golden Valley shows up and buys it. They pay far more than I could get from any merchant.”

  “And you can show us the way to the Golden Valley?” Alerio asked.

  “For a fee, of course,” the teen assured him.

  “What’s your name lad?” Ceyx asked. “If you’re going to be our guide, I’d like to have a name to call you.”

  “Brianus, or in some of the eastern languages, High Hill,” the teen announced. “Hunter, bow maker, and guide, at your service.”

  “We leave at dawn,” stated Alerio.

  “Can he carry his weight?” Brianus inquired by indicating the bandaged Ceyx. “It’s a hard climb over two mountains before the final climb to the valley.”

  “I’ll carry his gear if need be,” Alerio assured him. “We leave at dawn.”

  “You can pick up fur coats, mittens, hats, and packs at the tanner,” Brianus explained. “Use my name and he’ll give you a discount. I trade him my furs - he owes me. In the morning, we’ll get food stock from my father.”

  The Legionaries finished their meal and feeling better about the odds of completing their mission, left the restaurant.

  “The lad’s quite the businessman,” Alerio observed as they walked up the vendor street and away from the restaurant.

  “We’re lucky to find a guide, on the other hand, we’re running short of coin,” explained Ceyx. “We’ve enough for the teen guide, the food, and maybe the packs and mittens. The coats and hats, well, I wonder if the tanner gives credit?”

  Chapter 71 - Coin of the Realm and Other Currencies

  The tanner took pity on the Legionaries by offering to hold the moldy fur coats and hats until morning. It wasn’t much of a deal as he was just closing up shop for the night.

  Alerio and Ceyx left the tanner’s dejected.

  “We could always cheat Brianus,” suggested Ceyx. “Send him the payment when we get back to the Raider Post.”

  “Sure, and have a friend of the Golden Valley mad at us,” Alerio said. “Just what I need, two vendettas against me by a single assassin’s organization.”

  “The Dulce Pugno can only kill you once,” Ceyx explained.

  “If I were on a Legion Post, how would I raise coins?” Alerio asked. Then, he answered his own question. “At the heavy infantry. They’re always up for
a bet.”

  “You mean men who make their living by the sword?” Ceyx said. “As in caravan guards?”

  “Exactly,” Alerio replied.

  They continued to a cross street and turned west towards the stockyards. At the open-air building, they stepped into the torch light.

  “Anybody care to place a bet against the best swordsman in the west?” Ceyx announced.

  The response was under whelming. No one stepped up.

  Finally, a man stood. He was massive with legs the size of Ceyx’s waist.

  “No one here sword fights,” he rumbled. “You get cut; you can’t work. You don’t work, you don’t get paid. So, no one swords fights.”

  “What do you bet on?” asked the Legionary.

  “These,” the man said holding up a club and laughing. “We have club fights. A man can work with a broken collar bone. Or a broken arm.”

  The club was carved from the wood of a hardwood tree. One end tapered to fit a hand or two, while the other end formed a knot of wood resembling a large fist; a crippling weapon as Ceyx’s arm and ribs could attest.

  “Alright, who’s first?” Alerio offered while Ceyx was still thinking of the ramifications of being hit with the club.

  “My oxen are the fastest on the caravan trail,” the giant bragged. “Want to know why? Because I don’t spare the club. I’m your first, swordsman. And your last.”

  A club came flying across the room. Alerio deftly snagged it from the air. He inspected the weapon. It was about an arm’s length long and far lighter than a practice gladius.

  “Are you going to fight him?” Ceyx asked. “He’s a large man.”

  “The club isn’t much different than a wooden gladius,” Alerio responded. “Except, it’s not sharp, it’s longer, it’s top heavy, and the other guy is a giant. All that considered, yes, I’m going to fight him.”

  Bets began to pile up. Alerio’s held a few coins, most of them placed by Ceyx. The giant’s pile in comparison loomed over his opponent’s pile. There was a parallel there but no one in the building cared. This crowd enjoyed raw strength and skill regardless of the difference in height and weight.

  The giant came in with a shoulder level sweep, designed to knock his opponent down and, more than likely, out. Most people would have ducked under the powerful arc to avoid the club’s head. Alerio noticed the giant had all of his weight on his back leg leaving the forward leg free to strike out.

  He wants to kick me, thought the Legionary as he jumped above the sweeping club. On the way down, Alerio shot out a foot and kicked the giant’s front leg. The big man rotated on the over weighted rear leg and Alerio ran up to his blind side and clubbed him in the head. The giant toppled to the ground.

  The oversized drover laid moaning and unable to stand. Even with the yells and words of encouragement from the spectators, he was incapable of continuing the fight.

  “That went well,” Alerio said as he walked to where Ceyx was counting their winnings.

  “Better still,” Ceyx observed as he placed the coins in a pouch. “One fight and because of the odds, we are done here.”

  “Hold on a second,” advised Alerio.

  He walked over to the giant who was struggling to stand. Alerio picked up the large man’s club and spun both clubs around with twists of his wrists. After wind milling them so fast, they became a blur, he stopped and rested the clubs on his shoulders.

  “Anyone else want a shot?” he asked.

  A round of applause was his answer. He handed one club to the big man, set the other down, and marched with Ceyx out of the building. His display of weapons handling was impressive agreed most of the men in the building. One man who had ignored the fight suddenly took notice of Alerio and his performance.

  He was a thick boned man with massive shoulder muscles. His posture was distorted because he stooped. Most knew him as a sullen person with a mean temper and few friends. He didn’t pay attention to the fight, but when Alerio put on the show, he recognized the young man straight away.

  The last time he had laid eyes on the farm lad, they were in a jail cell. Legionaries removed the drunken lad before the brute knew there was a bounty on the boy’s head. The Cruor gang wanted the farm boy dead or alive. And, they would pay handsomely for either. His usual demeanor vanished and he smiled at the idea of the fates dropping a fortune into his lap.

  Alerio and Ceyx strolled happily to the building with individual bedding areas. They paid for two, walked to the sleeping cubes, and separated. Exhausted, the Legionaries laid down without exchanging a word. It had been a long day and both needed rest. It would, after all, be an even longer day tomorrow.

  The brute waited until the middle of the night. He knelt by the hostel manager’s bedroll and woke him with the point of a knife.

  “Two men rented beds. One wrapped in bandages,” he whispered. “The other one is a big lad. Where is the younger one sleeping?”

  “They wanted to be along the back wall,” the frightened manager whispered. “The big guy is in the cell second from the right.”

  “Stay still and stay quiet,” the brute ordered. “It’ll all be over in a minute.”

  The cells were separated by chest high walls of wood. It gave the place a fresh smell and afforded some privacy and security for the guests. Between the cells, aisles led front to back, and rows ran between lines of sleeping areas.

  The brute inched along the aisle and down the row to the right. At the second cell from the end, he stopped at the entrance to the cell. Alerio lay on his side cradling the side of his head. The knot on the back of his head was painful so there was no way to lay on his back. The brute raised his knife and paused. He wanted to study his cash prize for an instant.

  The first dog sailed over the chest high wall and attached his teeth to the arm holding the knife. The second dog turned the corner and latched onto the brute’s lower leg. Between the weight of the dogs, their leverage, and the pressure of the canine teeth breaking skin, they easily took him to the floor.

  Alerio came up with the gladius in his hand. Before he could make sense of the growling and screaming, the manager came running up with a torch.

  “Please, please everything is under control,” the proprietor assured him. “Just a little disturbance.”

  To the dogs, he whistled three times. The dogs began pulling the injured brute down the row. At the aisle, the manager whistled twice and the dogs dragged him down the aisle and out onto the street.

  Alerio followed and ended up standing beside the manager.

  “He asked for your cell,” the proprietor offered as he dispassionately watched the dogs chew on the brute.

  “I wish I had an opportunity to speak with him,” said Alerio.

  The manager whistled once and the dogs let go and stepped back three feet.

  “Take as long as you like,” the manager informed him.

  Alerio took a knee and shuddered at the sight of the half-chewed arms and legs.

  “Why come after me?” he asked.

  “The Cruor reward,” the brute said. Then begged. “Please no more dogs.”

  Alerio stood. “He’s all yours,” Alerio announced as he walked to the manager’s side.

  The manager whistled four sharp notes. There was no growling this time. A single scream issued from the brute’s throat before a dog ripped it out.

  “Merchants stay here and they are targets for robbers,” explained the manager. “Others stay here and they have enemies. All my guests are protected by my lads.”

  He whistled one long note and the dogs came trotting over to the manager. He bent down and ignoring the blood on their muzzles gave each a friendly rub on their head.

  Alerio went back to bed but sleep wouldn’t come. He lay there thinking about the Cruor gang and the Dulce Pugno. Both wanted him dead. He hoped to resolve the dispute with one in the next few weeks. And, hopefully, not disappoint the bounty hunters from the other, by dying.

  Act 7

  Chapter 72 -
Mountain Trails and Quail

  Brianus led Alerio and Ceyx across the mountain route, and behind the warehouses before climbing a foothill. Brianus and Alerio had no trouble with the steep but short slope. Ceyx on the other hand struggled.

  They traveled along the crest of the hill for part of the morning. At one point, Brianus stopped, pulled a big knife, and proceeded to chop down a young sapling. He flattened one end and left two prongs on the other. After inspecting it, he handed the walking stick to Ceyx.

  “Up hill, use it as a staff,” he directed. “Downhill, use it as a crutch.”

  Without another word, the teen stepped off the crest and slid down the hill. At the bottom, he crossed a narrow basin and started up a much steeper rise on the other side.

  By midafternoon, they left the foothills behind and were traversing the first mountain. Tough as iron Ceyx put one foot in front of the other and stayed with his two companions. When he finally stumbled, Alerio dropped back and took his pack.

  “I can manage,” protested the light infantryman.

  “I know. It’s just the thin air requires me to carry a heavier load,” Alerio said with sincerity as he slung the pack’s strap over his shoulder.

  He stepped away and marched after Brianus. It took a few heartbeats for the exhausted Ceyx to process the concept.

  “Wait. That doesn’t make sense,” pleaded Ceyx as he followed. “Thin air makes it harder to breathe.”

  “That’s not how I heard it,” Alerio replied looking back. He was happy to see Ceyx climbing faster without the weight of the pack.

  They settled in a camp site and after dinner, Ceyx was the first to fall asleep.

  ***

  In the week that followed, they climbed up a mountain and down the far side. Brianus knew the trails and when possible, selected gentle sloping paths. He even supplemented their rations with fresh meat.

  As they started up the second mountain, Brianus held up a hand. The guide turned and placed a finger over his lips for silence. Alerio and Ceyx as trained Legionaries, took a knee to lower their profiles.