Clay Warrior Stories Boxset 1

by J. Clifton Slater

  “What’s that?” asked Lupus.

  “Well, it was raining and cold but my savage didn’t seem to feel it,” Helicaon explained. “At first I thought he was drunk on beer or wine. But as we fought, I noticed the water beading on his flesh. When the battle line passed us, I was alone with him. It was the last time I was afraid. After I killed him, I moved up with my messmates. When the battle ended, I went back and checked the brute’s pouches.”

  “What did you find?” Lupus said.

  Helicaon put away his comb, reached into a big pouch, and drew out a large wrapped mass. He tossed it to Alerio.

  “What is it?” Lance Corporal Sisera asked as he peeled open the goat skin wrap. After sniffing, he jerked his head back and coughed. “That’s foul.”

  “It’s bear fat and pine tar,” Helicaon stated. “Waterproofs your skin and helps keep you warm.”

  “Repels friends and foe alike, I’d venture to say,” Alerio observed. “Does it work?”

  “In that battle, the rain was mixed with sleet and snow,” Helicaon said. “And we were fighting on a frozen lake. What do you think?”

  “Think about what?” an archer asked.

  He and the other three came into the lantern light.

  “I’ll show you at the dock,” Alerio informed them as he stood.

  ***

  It took the infantrymen guarding the alleyway a while to move the upended cart and pull back the boxes to open the barricade. Once Alerio and his six-man detail were through, the obstacles were restacked.

  The detail marched down the path and across the ground to the top of the cliff. Taking the ramp slowly in the dark, they descended to the pier.

  “That’s a tiny boat,” Lupus whispered as he felt the leather of the craft. “Are you sure it’ll carry us?”

  “If you don’t want to ride,” one of the archers offered. “I’ll trade places with you.”

  While the two talked, Helicaon tied a long hemp rope to the frame of his boat. After securing it, he began measuring out lengths and tying loops. After each loop, he measured another section and tied another loop. When he reached five, he handed the last coil to Alerio.

  Alerio stripped off his woolen clothing, bundled them up, and tossed them into the small boat. With the loop hung over his arm, he produced the ball of bear grease and pine tar. With a swipe of his hand across the mixture, he began to rub it on his skin.

  “That stinks, Lance Corporal,” one of the archers observed. “But if it’ll keep me warm, I’ll take some.”

  As Alerio and the archers smeared their bodies with the grease, Lupus and Helicaon hoisted the boat and set it in the water. They climbed in and Alerio and the naked archers sat on the edge of the pier gripping the coils.

  “Kick but don’t swim with your arm,” warned Helicaon. “When we get to the other side, get out of the water, and rub your limbs to keep warm. Once we’re out to sea, it’ll warm up a little.”

  “What’s a little?” an already shivering archer questioned.

  “Not enough to notice because by then, you’ll be too cold,” the old Spartan advised.

  “Go,” Alerio ordered as he slid off the dock and into the cold river.

  Lupus and Helicaon began digging in with their paddles. The operation depended on crossing the river quickly. If the swimmers were in the icy mountain runoff for too long, they would drown. Or, become so cold as to be useless for their part of the mission. So, the paddlers matched powerful strokes and the line tightened and soon they were dragging five kicking and shocked Legionaries behind the small leather boat.

  Chapter 51 - Angitia’s Beauties

  Alerio shivered and rubbed his arms and legs. In the distance, he could see fires at the fishermen’s huts. The draw was unmistakable. He had to fight the urge to run naked through the brush and throw himself on the warmth of the fire.

  “Think warm,” suggested Helicaon. “When I was a boy in training, we were taken to the highlands in the winter. Twice a day, we bathed in the mountain streams. The only thing that worked was thinking warm thoughts.”

  “I’m thinking warm all right,” one archer declared. “I’m thinking about killing you all and burning your bodies.”

  “Anger works as well,” added Helicaon. “But the heat of passion burns out fast and leaves you colder.”

  A breaking of branches announced Lupus’ return.

  “Twenty-five of Angitia’s Beauties,” Lupus declared as he held up two withering goatskin bags. “The goddess will be pleased tonight.”

  “Back into the water lads,” Alerio said with false enthusiasm.

  “Did I tell you that I hate you, Lance Corporal Sisera?” an archer stated.

  “Right now, Legionary, I hate myself,” Alerio replied.

  The hemp line went rigid and the five swimmers waded in and began to kick as the rope pulled them through the frigid water.

  ***

  Between the shivers, the weakening kicks of their legs, and the endless flow of water across their faces, the five swimmers barely noticed when the water went from turbulent to simply swelling. From killer cold to just cold, they transcended from the Kaikinos River to the Ionian Sea. Far out, the boat turned until they were towed parallel to Bova Beach.

  Alerio caught a glimpse of the first Illyrian bireme, the second and the third. His confidence climbed, if not his temperature, as they passed the fourth. One feature stood out. Along the beach, campfires burned brightly offering warmth. Fortunately, he knew the warmth came with death at the hands of the pirates. So, he clung tightly to the loop and kicked as best he could in the cold water.

  Eventually, as do most uncomfortable situations, the end came in sight. The boat turned and the swimmers could sense the water warming as they neared the shallows.

  Helicaon and Lupus climbed stiffly out of the boat. Their arms were dead from the rowing and their hands refused to grip when they attempted to pull on the rope. All five swimmers were dead weight and none helped by kicking. The Spartan and the Legionary had to force their hands to close and their shoulders to haul on the line. The swimmers were barely moving when they were reeled in from the sea.

  Chapter 52 – Wine for Warmth and a Mission

  Alerio was the first swimmer to revive. He accepted a drink of strong wine as a dry woolen shirt was thrown across his shoulders. Weakly dragging the shirt off his back, he slipped in on properly. It took concentration to pull on the wool trousers and even more to tie the string belt. Then, he pulled on his hobnailed boots and went to check on the archers.

  One was sitting up but shivering violently.

  “Get up and walk around,” Helicaon ordered. “Don’t think about it, just get up, shake your arms and walk around.”

  The Legionary finally climbed to his feet and began to move. Another archer crawled to his knees and looked up at Alerio.

  “Sisera. Remember when I said I hate you?” he asked. “Well, now I hate you even more.”

  “I was right behind you in the water,” Alerio informed him. “The best part of the swim was when you peed in the water. For a fleeting moment, I was grateful for your warmth.”

  The archer stared at Alerio for a few heartbeats. Then, he climbed to his feet and stepped up to face Alerio. After a pause, he threw his arms around Lance Corporal Sisera.

  “That was some adventure,” he whispered. “Let’s go kill some pirates.”

  “First, we need to have everyone fit,” Alerio stated.

  The other two archers were slow to come around. Prolonged cold effects people in different ways. One couldn’t stop shivering and was curled into a ball and crying. His fellow archer just sat with his head bowed. Unmoving or unable to move, he seemed lost in his own mind.

  “What about those two?” asked Lupus.

  “If they don’t come around soon,” Alerio responded. “We’ll have to leave them.”

  The Spartan took the wineskin and approached the unmoving Legionary.

  “See here lad,” the old man said as he sat an
d draped an arm over the archer’s shoulder. “You have a mission and I have wine. And I promise you don’t have to go back into the water.”

  “I thought I was going to die,” the archer mumbled.

  “You almost did. But now you’re safe on dry ground,” Helicaon assured him. “I’m thirsty. Wine’s a good way to rinse the salt out of your throat. Here, join me.”

  The old man took a drink than pressed the wineskin into the hands of the archer. Slowly, the Legionary lifted his head and drizzled a stream into his mouth.

  “I may have had better wine,” he whispered. “But I can’t remember when.”

  “Get dressed,” ordered Alerio. “You may die tonight but you won’t have to get wet to do it.”

  “I’m fit Lance Corporal,” the archer assured him as he stood and took some more wine. “But, let’s never do that swimming thing again.”

  “Not in this lifetime,” Alerio assured him. “Get dressed and move around. You’ll feel better.”

  “And that leaves one,” observed Lupus. “Any more tricks from you, old man.”

  “Just one,” Helicaon said. “Throw him into the water. If he wants to live he’ll swim back to shore. If not, he’ll die. In either case, you’ll know where he stands.”

  One of the archers was kneeling next to the curled-up Legionary. As he patted the man’s shoulder, he whispered, “Lance Corporal Sisera. Can we start a fire? We can’t see the pirate’s campfires from here so they shouldn’t see ours.”

  “The Illyrians on the first level plaza will see it,” Alerio said to him. Then, he knelt and placed a hand on the curled-up Legionary. “I’m not going to throw him in the water. We’ll leave him here with Helicaon. Collect your equipment and let’s get moving.”

  “I’m not staying here and missing the fun,” the Spartan announced. “Your lad will have to fend for himself.”

  After Lupus removed his squirming sacks, the three fit archers grabbed their bows and bundles of arrows from the boat. Alerio plucked his dual rig from the bottom and slung it over his shoulders. It wasn’t surprising when Helicaon reached in and pulled out a gladius.

  “Are we ready?” asked Alerio.

  “Hold on,” Lupus begged. “Almost done.”

  The Legionary stood away from the rest. Higher up the bank, he was lost in the moonlight shadows and the dark of the steep hill.

  “All set,” Lupus said after a while. “Let’s go see who is blessed with Angitia’s gift.”

  Alerio led and the others followed him towards where the pirates were camped.

  Chapter 53 – Wolves in Hades

  As the evening deepened into full night, all the civilians and a few of the Legionaries on the plaza slept; except for those on guard duty, and three squads. Those infantrymen sat around cook fires sharpening their gladii, or eating, or mending their equipment. Garrison Commander Cephas finished another round of checking on the night guards and walked wearily to where the squads sat.

  “Go in, raise Hades, and get out,” he ordered. “I need every one of you for tomorrow’s fight. Understood?”

  Squads Four and Five replied, “Yes, Commander.”

  The Third Squad growled.

  ‘I’ll have to ask them about that when this is over,’ Cephas thought as he walked away.

  He went to the first man on guard duty and told him to wake up a friend. They were encouraged to have a conversation; not too loud, but enough so the voices created noise from the plaza. After giving the same instructions to the other men on guard duty, Cephas went in search of one of the bards. He figured a ballad couldn’t hurt.

  ***

  Squads Four and Five descended the stairs to the second level plaza. Once on the plaza, they separated and silently searched the area for any hidden pirates. After making sure the level was clear, the squads took up positions on either side of the stairs leading down to level one. A Legionary separated from the ranks and walked back to the stairs.

  “Clear,” he whispered to the eight-man assault squad waiting there.

  Third Squad filed down from level three and crossed the plaza. No one spoke, or stomped, or rattled their equipment. There were pirates snoozing on the stairs; along with about thirty-five Illyrian soldiers sleeping on the plaza below.

  The assault squad stopped and stood perfectly still. Some of their eyes fixed on the quiet and motionless beach below; others cast further down the beach to the fires near the large pavilion.

  Above them on the third level plaza, Legionaries talked and a bard sang a melancholy love song about Cupid’s love for the beautiful princess Psyche. Third Squad stood between the low noises from above and the silent Illyrians below.

  Chapter 54 – The Navarch Pavilion

  Alerio tapped the three archers on their shoulders before pushing them to the top of the beach. Higher up, where the beach met dirt, they heal-and-toed it forward until they could see to the front of the pavilion. Sleeping forms sprawled around two low campfires. Both were close to the large tent’s entrance. From the high ground, the multitude of campfires caused the rest of the beach to resemble a starry night.

  The archers stuck out an arm to be sure they had the proper distance between them. Once satisfied they had elbow room, the three slowly unslung the bundles from their shoulders and squatted down. From the sacks, they extracted arrows, one at a time. As each arrow emerged, the bowmen stuck the arrowhead into the dirt to their front. When they had one hundred twenty arrows placed, the archers strung their bows and waited.

  “The Goddess beckons,” Lupus whispered from behind Alerio.

  “Then answer her call,” he urged.

  There was a shuffling of feet on the sand and Alerio caught a quick glimpse of a form at the edge of the pavilion before it vanished.

  The archers noticed the movement as well. In response, they stood, set their feet, and plucked the first arrows from the soil.

  An apparition materialized from around the pavilion. A naked man glistened in the night except for the dark strip that coiled around his body. Above the shoulders, a cobra’s head turned rapidly from side to side, as if excited about discovering humans on the beach.

  “Snakes. Snakes on the beach,” screamed the apparition as it raced from campfire to campfire. “Who is blessed with the gift? Serpents from the Goddess.”

  At the first pair of campfires, the spirit dropped snakes on the chest of two sleeping men.

  One assaulted man felt the squirming immediately. He brushed the snake aside and jumped up yelling, “Snakes. Snakes on the beach.”

  The brushed aside serpent landed on another sleeping pirate. He cried out and leaped to his feet yelling, “Serpents, serpents. Serpents on the beach.”

  Both men were swept from their feet when arrowheads pierced their necks. As the others pirates around the campfires tossed back their blankets and rose, arrow shafts appeared in their chests. They fell back onto their blankets.

  The action played out around campfires radiating out from the pavilion. A snake landed, was slung onto a mate, and men jumped up shouting about snakes on the beach. The Legion archers dropped several of the first group. But the cry of ‘snakes’ and the panic spread rapidly beyond the campsites targeted by the spirit. It spread so fast; the archers couldn’t keep up with the targets.

  As with all surprise attacks, those initially affected were afraid and vocal which spread confusion to their neighbors. Eventually, the farthest away, and unaffected were able to sort out the chaos. Soon they would discover the archers and the attack would end with the death of the Legionaries.

  Except, from the plaza and the beach near the stairs, Illyrian pirates shouted warnings about an attack from the Legionaries. The attack-cry rolled from the stairs, down the beach, and through each of the unaffected campsites. Midway to the pavilion, the attack-cry clashed with the snakes-on-the-beach cry. In the confusion, pirates had to choose. Chase after an unknown and naturally feared foe, like snakes or attack a solid, recognizable enemy. Thusly, the snake-cry was forgotte
n and the pirates, grabbing knives and swords, ran for the stairs and the fight on the plaza.

  No one noticed the apparition when it stumbled. His words so garbled, one would have to be very close to hear his voice.

  “Goddess Angitia. Come and take me from this realm,” he mumbled. The last two snakes were held up as offerings. Both hands and arms bled from fang marks. He stopped and gazed at the puncture wounds. “Take back your gift, my Goddess, and carry me home.”

  With those words, the apparition dropped to his knees. Slowly, he toppled face first into the hot coals of a campfire. The last sensation of his troubled life was the aroma of a second chance. For Private Lupus, there would be no second chance; his Goddess reclaimed her gift and carried him from this realm.

  Chapter 55 – Steps into Hades

  Third Squad couldn’t understand the words. The cry of the pirates from the beach was too far away making it an undulating roar. Yet, they understood the meaning. Eight shields lifted, and the men howled while running down the steps to the lower plaza. To distract from the beach action and help alert the Illyrians to the attacking Legionaries, Fourth and Fifth Squads yelled at the top of their lungs. Despite the noisy display, they maintained their positions.

  As Third Squad descended the stairs, two abreast, the Legionaries slashed and hacked the pirates sleeping on the steps. At the first plaza level, they slowed and came on line.

  “Advance. Advance,” shouted Procopius, the acting squad leader. “And yell. Let the perfututum Illyrians know, they’ve entered a wolf’s den.”

  The shields shot forward. A few soldiers and pirates who were awake and standing died.