Clay Warrior Stories Boxset 1

by J. Clifton Slater

  Alerio wanted to shout out there was another military unit in the Capital. They weren’t Legion, they were northern barbarians, but he held his tongue.

  The sounds of chairs sliding back reached Alerio as other NCOs came in and rounded up members of their units. By evening, there wouldn’t be a single Legion squad, Century, or Marine crews of rowers in the Capital. Or, a Legion ship docked at the piers.

  While Thomasious checked out guests, the line of little ears grew. Finally, they filled the narrow hallway leading to the alcove and the innkeeper’s desk.

  “Go eat and come back,” Alerio said from the doorway.

  The hallway cleared rapidly and the line shifted to the cook shed. When the last Legionary assigned to a unit was gone, Thomasious strolled back to his alcove.

  “An unusual form of martial law,” the innkeeper offered. “Now where are my little ears?”

  Alerio leaned out of the storage room and pointed down the hallway. The rear courtyard of the inn was crowded with children. Some eating, other playing, and a few were sleeping.

  “Let’s go find out what the Senate is up to, shall we?” commented Thomasious.

  For the rest of the afternoon, they held meetings with groups of children. Each child was allowed to talk before being released. At the end of the interrogations, a picture of the Senate session emerged.

  “Let’s hear what you got from the little ears,” Thomasious ordered.

  “Senator Ventus opened the session with a plea to hold the Janus festival. It was overwhelmingly approved,” Alerio reported. “Then, Ventus brought up the deaths of the two recently deceased Senators.”

  “Where was the President of the Senate during these discussions?” asked Thomasious.

  “He yielded the floor to Ventus at the opening of the session,” Alerio remarked. “One of the little ears reported hearing a Senator complain about it. Is that normal?”

  “The President of the Senate is the leader of the governing body,” Thomasious replied. “For him to yield the entire session to Ventus was the same as making Ventus the President. What else?”

  “Ventus asked to be named a temporary Consul,” Alerio reported. “But the Senate voted it down. After that, they passed the Legion restraint bill to clear the city until the murders could be investigated.”

  “And that leads us back to the question,” Thomasious pondered. “What is Senator Ventus’ end game?”

  “I have some advice for the Clay Ear,” Alerio warned. “Don’t publish any of this. Not a story, not a gossip piece, not a biting political commentary. The city guard and the barbarians control the streets. You are not safe.”

  “That’s nonsense,” responded Thomasious. “I’m a citizen of the Republic. I have my rights.”

  Chapter 32 - The Qart Hadasht

  With all the Legionaries assigned to units ordered to leave the city, Alerio wasn’t sure of his own travel status. He left the inn and walked to the Legion Transfer building to find out.

  “Lance Corporal Sisera,” he reported. “I’m checking on the ship to the southern Legion.”

  “It’s delayed,” the Transfer NCO replied. “If things aren’t settled in the next few days, we’ll organize a march south. If the Senate reopens the port, you’ll sail. If not, we’ll put together a Century and supply wagons and you can march with them.”

  “How long is the march?” Alerio inquired.

  “Roughly eighteen days,” the Legionary replied. “The march isn’t the problem. It’s having you and the other transferees waiting around until we have enough men to make it feasible.”

  “When do you want me back?” asked Alerio.

  “In a couple of days,” the NCO replied. “The Centurion should have made a decision by then.”

  As Alerio turned for the door, a squad of city guardsmen marched by. He eased back and waited for them to pass.

  “There’s an amphora of merda for you,” the Transfer NCO said while pointing at the squad.

  “The city guards?” Alerio guessed.

  “No. The Qart Hadasht launch the guardsmen are meeting,” the NCO replied. “The Senate chases off Legion ships and invites in an enemy Ambassador. It’s just not right.”

  “For the Festival of Janus?” asked Alerio.

  “Who knows?” the Legionary replied. “I have too many friends buried along the coast because of those cūlus to care.”

  Alerio left the office and wandered to the warehouses. Using the long buildings and the crowd of workers as cover, he eased forward to get a look at the docks.

  A smallish ship rowed up the river and smartly pivoted in mid-channel. He had to admire the seamanship when the boat sped towards the pier. Just before colliding with the pilings, the rowers reversed oars. The ship went from slicing the river water and leaving an expanding wake to gently nudging against the dock.

  The launch was narrow with carved images on the fore section and the aft tail. And, it was a true tail. The stern rose until it curved over the pilot where it ended in a point. It reminded Alerio of a scorpion’s stinger.

  Five large brass shields lined each side of the ship. But twenty oars had raised when the launch reached the dock. If Alerio figured correctly, the ten shields were for Qart Hadasht soldiers meaning the ship had ten rowers and ten warriors in its compliment.

  As dockworkers caught and secured lines to anchor the boat, a coach pulled by a team of four big horses rolled up. The first person to emerge was Gabrielus resplendent in his Tribune armor.

  The northerner marched to the squad of city guardsmen and, amazingly, began issuing orders. Soon, the squad was in line facing one direction. The bronze shields from the ship were pulled down and ten men in brown armor marched off the ship. They came abreast of the city’s squad, halted, and turned sharply to face the guardsmen. In a move screaming of intimidation, the Qart Hadasht soldiers had turned so they were just a foot from the guardsmen’s faces. Additionally, they were taller which forced the guardsmen to stare at the Qart Hadasht squad’s chests. On command, the soldiers stepped back in unison for five paces.

  Gabrielus signaled someone on the boat before turning and waving at the coach. Senator Ventus stepped down from the carriage. A tall man dressed in an ornate robe stepped onto the dock from the Qart Hadasht launch.

  The two men met at the center of the ceremonial lines. They exchanged hugs as if they were longtime friends before linking arms and strolling to the coach. Ventus and the Ambassador disappeared into the carriage and the two squads trotted forward to flank the vehicle.

  When the coach and the squads left the docks, Alerio was surprised to see the Senator’s bodyguard still standing on the pier. Gabrielus watched the carriage for a long time before turning and walking to the Qart Hadasht boat.

  A tall man with long blond hair appeared on the deck. When Gabrielus stepped onto the ship, they embraced. Looking closely, Alerio noticed the same short nose, high cheekbones, wide set of the shoulders, and matching height. If not brothers, they were certainly related by blood.

  The man on the boat was maybe a couple of years older but leaner as you’d expect from a northern tribesman. While they spoke, the tribesman patted Gabrielus’ armored chest and both men laughed. Food was brought out and they sat at a table. While they ate, Alerio eased back from the corner of the warehouse and sprinted away.

  He didn’t break stride until reaching the door of the inn’s great room. Rushing across the floor to the counter, Alerio waved frantically for Thomasious Harricus to follow. At the end of the counter, Lance Corporal Sisera pushed through the double doors and raced down the hallway to the rear of the inn.

  “What seems to be the trouble?” asked Harricus when he stepped into the courtyard.

  “Senator Ventus is meeting with an Ambassador from the Qart Hadasht Empire,” Alerio blurted out between gasps of air.

  “That fits with his agenda,” Harricus explained. “I finally collected enough information to figure out his plan.”

  “You mean why he’s ki
lling off his opposition?” asked Alerio.

  “Now look who’s talking treason,” teased Harricus. “Senator Ventus is a free trader. He believes the Republic will be better served by making peace with the tribes on our boarders. And by making trade deals with neighboring city states and Empires like Qart Hadasht.”

  “Master Harricus, my father’s farm is fifteen miles from the border,” Alerio explained. “If not for the Legion, and I mean active heavy infantry, the northern and western tribes would attack and kill every citizen between my father’s farm and the Capital. How can you make peace with barbarians who think like that?”

  “Well, the barbarians are savages, I agree,” Harricus replied. “But there’s no connection between trading with ocean going cities and the barbarians. Maybe if we made friends and expanded our trading partnerships, we’d have more resources to use for growth. The Republic does spend a lot on defense.”

  “There is a connection,” Alerio offered. “Gabrielus met a northern barbarian on the Qart Hadasht launch. If the Ambassador is here to talk peace, why does he have a northern tribesman with him?”

  “This is getting beyond the privy of a simple scribe and innkeeper,” Harricus admitted. “Fortunately, my inn has been serving junior officers for enough years that a few have risen to command status in the Legions. Let me send a message to Colonel Nigellus. He’s in town as a Marshal for the Festival of Janus and should be available.”

  “What can I do?” asked Alerio.

  “Go watch the games. I expect Champ wouldn’t get back to me until he finishes his duties at the Festival,” Harricus explained.

  “You call a Colonel of the Legion, Champ?” asked Alerio in horror.

  “When I met Nigellus, he wasn’t a Battle Commander and in charge of an army,” Harricus said with a laugh. “Champ was a broke Centurion with the southern Legion. He supplemented his income by arm wrestling for coin. I believe there are still a few Republic silvers due on his room bill. So, he’s Champ to me.”

  Chapter 33 - The Festival of Janus

  Alerio was torn. While he wanted to see the festival celebrating the God of beginnings, gates, transitions, and endings, he couldn’t chance being seen by the city guard. It seemed he was doomed to miss the opening blessings. In his room, he looked at the dark cloak and realized he could watch in relative safely from one vantage point.

  Before the sun reached its zenith, Alerio shuffled into the Fireguard District. On the street before the earthen berm, he climbed to the third floor, walked through a hallway, and into The Wine Trough.

  The pub was crowded, but Alerio managed to find a seat on the porch. It only cost him four silvers to buy out a table occupied by three young men. They left with wicked smiles on their faces. For a few heartbeats, he worried he’d see the three again when he left after sundown. But the festival grounds and the crowds drew his attention to the activities outside the city and he dismissed the thought.

  Four Epulones stood around a bull with swords. The crowd stood back as the Priests began stabbing the beast. Alerio knew livestock, and in all his days on the farm, had never seen a bull stand perfectly still for anything. This sacrificial bull was so drugged it was a wonder he could stand. Eventually, the bull didn’t. Amid sprays of blood and the hacking of the Epulones, the noble animal gave up his spirit to Janus and toppled over. While the crowd cried out in delight, a rope was tied around the bull’s legs and a team of mules hauled the carcass away.

  Butchers stood by and soon smaller pieces of the sacrificial bull rotated over fires. While the slaughter and roasting took place, the four Epulones separated and ran to every corner of the festival grounds.

  Most people avoided the nearly naked, blood covered Priests. Some folks in need of a blessing, reached out to swipe fingertips of sacrificial blood off the Epulones. They promptly stuck their fingers into their mouths and sucked off the blood. Alerio assumed they were either hungry. Or they needed Janus to begin, to gate, or to transition something in their bowels.

  Once the Epulones had finished marking everything on the festival grounds with bull’s blood, they raced to the reviewing stand. As the Priests raised their hands, men on the stand waved their acknowledgement of the Epulones’ blessings.

  Senator Ventus and the Qart Hadasht Ambassador occupied the center of the stand with other dignitaries spread out on either side. Three Legion officers stood on the far left. They would be the Central Legion’s Colonel, the Senior Centurion, and the Senior Tribune. If the big officer was Nigellus, Alerio could easily see why he won arm wrestling contests. After waving to the crowd, all the dignitaries, except one, sat.

  Alerio sipped his mug of vino while Senator Ventus stepped to the edge of the reviewing platform. Ventus’ arms waved and his mouth moved but, he was too far away for Alerio to hear any of the words. Despite the limitations, the Lance Corporal decided this was by far the best way to experience a political speech.

  Bored with watching the antics of the Senator, Alerio shifted his attention to the competition areas. He shivered at the thought of the archery range and smiled at the staggered javelin targets. A blush ran down both arms when he ogled the gladius arena. Maybe someday he would compete. But until he cleared the Cruor bounty, he was limited in his public exposure.

  The speeches ended and the Legion officers walked down from the stand and separated. Each would act as a ceremonial Marshal for different competitions before relinquishing the duties to the real Marshals of the games.

  Squads of Legionaries were stationed in strategic areas. If anyone got out of hand, they would be subdued, maybe beaten a little before being delivered to the medical tent. The busiest vendors were the sellers of vino and ale so by evening, the Legionaries would be busy policing the festival.

  As the competitions began, Alerio watched as gamblers streamed to and from the betting tents. A Legion NCO wandered between squads, stopping to chat with one before moving on to another squad. Just before the competitions began, the Tesserarius turned full face towards Fireguard District.

  Alerio immediately recognized Corporal Gratian of the Capital’s Western Transfer Post. Apparently, the Central Legion had moved additional Centuries to the festival area. Corporal Gratian was known as an NCO who cared about his men. And, as a man who enjoyed wagering and deal making. Alerio chuckled as he tried to imagine what deal Gratian had made to finagle a duty assignment at the Festival of Janus.

  Corporal Gratian, true to form, finished checking on his men before heading to the betting tents.

  ***

  Alerio watched the gladius fights, the archery shots, and the javelin throws. Tomorrow, the horse and chariot races would begin as well as the ranked competitors in the former games. He decided The Wine Trough was a good venue for viewing. Promising himself to come back for the second day of the festival, he stood and headed for the exit.

  Pausing on the top of the stairs, Alerio glanced down at the dark street and the black holes of the alleyways. Somewhere down there, three young men looked to relieve a stranger of his purse. Alerio thought about teaching them a lesson but he was under a time constraint and needed to get back to the Chronicles Humanum Inn. The best deterrent against crime was a show of force. He dropped his cloak, drew both gladii, and put the cloak back on. If the three were brave enough to mug a man brandishing two gladii maybe they deserved a lesson.

  There was no sense in carrying two swords if your enemy doesn’t see them. At the bottom of the stairs, Alerio began twirling the blades. With spinning steel on either side of him, he causally walked down the center of the street.

  He located the three and walked by with a nod of his head. They responded by shrugging as if to say you won this time. In fact, Alerio’s demonstration had probably saved the lives of the three young men. They just didn’t realize it.

  Chapter 34 - Colonel ‘Champ’ Nigellus

  Alerio arrived at the inn and headed straight to the baths. After a quick clean up, he went to his room and put on the military tunic. It was the fi
rst time since enlisting he’d dressed in something besides armor for a Legion event.

  “It’s a nice look on you,” commented Harricus as Alerio marched into the great room. “Come, join me.”

  The innkeeper sat in the weirdly silent room with a mug of vino.

  “This place hasn’t been this empty, since the day before I opened the inn,” Harricus remarked when he read the look on Lance Corporal Sisera’s face.

  “I’m sure you’ll be busy once the Senate allows Legion units back in the city,” Alerio offered trying to console the proprietor.

  “You misjudged my meaning,” Harricus replied. “I gave my staff the day off to enjoy the festival. Even hired a few workmen to do some needed repairs. Me? I’m relaxing in the evening for the first time in years.”

  ***

  A stallion, especially one accustomed to dominating on a battlefield, creates chaos wherever it goes. The first to sense the alpha equine were the penned livestock. Horses whinnied, mules hew-hawed, lambs bleated, and even the hardheaded goats bleated out a warning as the big warhorse trotted into the rear courtyard. If the animal sounds failed to alert you, the stomping of massive hooves and the deep chested snorting and exhaling of a large horse in a confined space was sure to get your attention.

  “Champ has arrived,” Thomasious announced with a relaxed smile. “Come on, I’ll introduce you.”

  Alerio followed the innkeeper. By the time they reached the courtyard, Erebus was walking from the stables.

  “Good evening, Colonel,” the barbarian said as he approached the horse and rider.

  The stallion began to dance sideways while shaking his massive head.