Infinite Courage Read online

  “Is something wrong?” Gustavi questioned as if he hadn’t heard the disrespectful interruption of the Tesserarius’ instructions. “A problem with the funds, perhaps?”

  “Enitui. You and I are going to have a conversation about etiquette later today,” Alerio warned.

  The Lance Corporal allowed a smile to cross his face before replying, “Sure whatever you say Sisera.”

  Alerio started to stand and correct Enitui’s attitude. Then he remembered that he was in the middle of an ambush. When under attack, a Legionary was taught to follow his training and not allow emotions to take away his discipline.

  “You will sign as a witness that the Legionaries in your charge were paid,” Alerio informed the Decanus while picking up the quill and offering it to the first Legionary in the line. “Name?”

  ***

  “Decanus Italus present your contubernium,” Alerio said calling 3rd Squad to the table. “You will sign as a witness that the Legionaries in your charge were paid.”

  While Italus shoved his Legionaries into line, the sound of a horse coming from the north reached the Corporal and Sergeant. They turned to see Centurion Fenoris Megellus ride up the embankment, cross the flat, and rein in his mount beside the Centurion’s tent.

  “What’s this? The Century is short of funds?” shouted the infantry officer as he leaped from his horse. He seemed to be performing from a script but was far out of sync with the rest of the actors. “Who is to blame for the inability to pay the squads?”

  Optio Gustavi’s face flushed turning a deeper red and he waved a hand to get the officer’s attention. But the lifting arm triggered a Legionary from 2nd Squad. He sprinted away in the direction of the NCOs’ tent.

  Centurion Megellus strutted into the crowd of waiting Legionaries. Turning to face the table and NCOs, he put his fists on his hips and announced, “My men work hard and deserve their pay.”

  “Isn’t there enough coins to pay us?” blurted out Decanus Ostrei.

  1st and 2nd Squads began to yell about not being paid and that someone should be held responsible. During the outburst, the missing Legionary came back from the NCOs’ tent holding Alerio’s dual gladius rig over his head.

  “What do we have here?” demanded the Centurion as the Legionary held out the leather straps with the two sheaths and gladii. “Pull the hilts and let’s see what’s in there besides blades.”

  The Legionary pulled the first gladius and turned the sheath over as if to empty a pitcher. Nothing fell out. But he noticed a piece of parchment tied around the steel blade. Raising the blade to his eyes, the Legionary read the note.

  “What does it say?” someone called to him.

  He didn’t answer. Instead, he pulled the second gladius and read the note attached to that blade. His face paled and he squinted as if in pain.

  “What do the notes say?” demanded Trax Dircium, the Decanus from 2nd Squad. “Spit it out.”

  “They both say, you have violated my personal equipment,” the Legionary reported. “Cut yourself now or I will cut you later. It’s signed Death Caller.”

  “Who is Death Caller?” asked Centurion Megellus.

  The squad members from the four Samnite squads and the 9th and 10th all pointed at Corporal Sisera. In response, the Tesserarius handed the quill to the next Legionary from 3rd Squad and smiled.

  “Name?”

  ***

  When 3rd was done, Alerio called for 2nd Squad to line up.

  “Aren’t we out of money?” someone asked.

  “No. We have coins for everyone,” Alerio assured him. Then, the Corporal raised his head and looked down the line of Legionaries to the one holding his rig. “I suggest you put my dual sheaths back in the NCOs’ tent. And I better see blood on both blades.”

  While Alerio went about the business of paying the Legionaries, among the squads, the talk centered around the sword fights from the day before. Specifically, the legend of Death Caller and the respect and fear the name generated around the Legions. Lance Corporal Enitui began to sweat but not nearly as much as the Legionary holding the two-gladius rig.

  1st Squad filed by and drifted away. Then Optio Gustavi and Centurion Megellus drew their pay.

  “Master Grilli, present your handlers,” Alerio called to the head of the animal wranglers. “You will sign as a witness that the men in your charge were paid.”

  “I can do that, Tesserarius,” Grilli assured him.

  Not until the last handler collected his due did Alerio pass the accounting sheet to Gustavi.

  “Please witness my pay draw,” Alerio requested. After counting out a stack of coins, he signed and handed the quill to the Optio. “Please witness my signature.”

  “I don’t know how you did it, but you managed to get everyone paid,” Gustavi offered as he signed his name beside Alerio’s signature.

  Before they could breakdown the table, a cavalry troop and two Centurions rode up from the beach.

  “Centurion Megellus?” a Senior Centurion asked.

  “I’m Fenoris Megellus.”

  “Good. Let’s go into your tent while the cavalrymen search your camp.”

  “Searches for what, Senior Centurion?”

  “Stolen armor, helmets, and gladii,” the senior infantry officer replied as he slid off his mount. “Come with me, Centurion.”

  Megellus sheepishly followed the Senior Centurion to his tent. Once they vanished and the flaps closed, the second Centurion dismounted and marched to the NCOs.

  “Payday?” he inquired.

  “Yes, sir,” Alerio answered.

  “I’m the Tesserarius for Crassus Legion,” the officer explained. “When you join, you’ll be under me for pay and requisition. Show me your accounts.”

  Optio Gustavi stood and went to watch the cavalrymen as they entered and exited tents.

  “New equipment?” the Legion Tesserarius commented while reading the ledgers. “And what’s this about construction material for a villa?”

  “Those supplies and the Legionaries’ equipment were purchased before I reported to the Century,” Alerio explained.

  “It appears your Legionaries are ready to go to war.”

  “I need a few more months for that, sir,” Alerio suggested.

  “You’ve got a week,” the Centurion informed him. “The Senior Centurion wants his Centuries drilling together. Describe your Century.”

  “Second maniple at best,” Alerio reported. “Some experience but not enough to rate third maniple and more than enough to rank above first.”

  “You’re a veteran and could claim a spot in the ranks of the third maniple,” advised the Centurion. “Or even join the 1st Century.”

  “That’s very kind of you, Centurion,” acknowledged Alerio. “But my patron wants me here and here I’ll stay.”

  The cavalry officer marched from the far end of the Century’s area and stopped at the table. Optio Gustavi arrived a half step later.

  “No extra gear,” the mounted officer reported. “But most of what they have is new.”

  The Centurion held up the accounting form and eyed the lines.

  “It’s what the Legionaries were issued when they reported to the Century,” the Legion Tesserarius explained. “And you found nothing extra. No spare shields, armor, or helmets?”

  “Nothing. Just lots of new equipment.”

  “Senior Centurion Publius. We are done here,” the Centurion called to the officer’s tent.

  Inside, Fenoris Megellus stood stiffly in the center of the empty tent. Publius prowled the interior but managed to have his lips a few fingers from Megellus’ ear whenever he spoke.

  “There is a reason Centurions drill and live with their men,” Publius barked. “From the looks of these quarters, I’d say you not only didn’t live with your Legionaries, but I would bet coins that you haven’t drilled with them.”

  “Senior Centurion, I’ve been busy.”

  “Mister Megellus. I have thirty-six other infantry officer
s and every one of them drills with their Centuries,” Publius advised. “Any one of them not proficient will be helped by some of my more experienced Centurions. But you have an advantage. Corporal Sisera is a veteran and a weapons instructor. Let him help you before I do. Understand?”

  “Yes, Senior Centurion. We’ll be ready in a month or so.”

  “No, Centurion Megellus. You’ll pack up and join the Legion within the week,” Publius ordered. “And when I signal an order, your Century better be the first to respond.”

  The Senior Centurion marched through the flaps leaving Fenoris Megellus shaking. Some of it was anger but mostly it was fear. He never wanted to be an infantry officer for the heavy infantry.

  Act 4

  Chapter 13 – Part of a War Machine

  Two sheep peered over the crest of the hill then topped it and started down the far side. Behind the flock leaders, the rest of the sheep ambled to the top. At the rear of the flock and further down the reverse slope, the shepherd nudged the slower animals with a tap from his staff. Encouraged by sharp words and raps, the stragglers hurried up the slope. The shepherd wasn’t concerned about predators but the thought of his sheep spreading out on the broad downhill slope was a concern. Once the slower ones began moving, he put on a burst of speed and hiked to the top of the hill. He needn’t have worried. His sheep were clustered in a grassy area peacefully munching on the spring shoots. However, in the valley below him, the scene was anything but peaceful.

  Four hundred and thirty-two heavy infantrymen grunted and pushed against an equal number of opposing shields. Directly behind each line, a second rank pushed the first rank while jabbing javelins over their heads. The two front lines shouted and yelled at each other over their shields.

  Behind the javelin line and stationed at every twenty-fourth man in the shield wall, an Optio and a Tesserarius flanked a Centurion. Behind the Century’s command staff another twenty-four Legionaries waited to be called up. Further to the rear of each Century stood four Legionaries on resupply duty and standing by to act as body bearers for any wounded. Behind them, two mule handlers waited with mules carrying water and vino, wheat cakes, cheese, and olives, plus additional javelins, and bandages.

  No one was supposed to get injured during the mock battle. The exercise allowed the Legion’s command staff to have a look at the individual Centuries. Static inspections and gladius drills could only tell Senior Centurion Publius, Senior Tribune Nictavi, and the battle commander, Colonel Bacaris, so much about the men’s fighting ability. But pitting heavy infantrymen against each other would reveal weaknesses. With the information, the commanders could put their strongest Centuries where they would do the most good. And, adjust their weakest Centuries so they would do the least harm while getting annihilated. No one was supposed to get injured in training. That wasn’t the case when the Legion went to war. Then a lot of men on both sides would be wounded or killed.

  ***

  “Senior Centurion. Can you explain why that Century is a half a beat behind the rest?” challenged Colonel Bacaris.

  Publius followed the battle commander’s eyes. As he’d come to expect, Fenoris Megellus stood at the apex of the slow Century.

  “Move them away from my center,” Bacaris warned. “If I find them at a critical location in my battle line, I’ll have the 1st Century remove them.”

  “I understand, sir,” Publius replied as he kneed his mount. A short gallop later, he reined in behind Megellus. Waving across the shield wall to the other Century, the Senior Centurion chopped his right hand into his left. Then slashed the knife edge of his palm across his throat.

  The Centurion on the other side of the grunting men shouted to his NCOs. In the din of the struggle, his words should have been lost. But the Sergeant and Corporal knew the voice of their infantry officer and could pick it out in the roar of a landslide. Also, the squad leaders on the line knew and recognized their command staffs’ voices.

  “Assault through them,” uttered the Centurion. Quickly his Optio and Tesserarius repeated the order. Almost as soon as it left the NCOs’ mouths, the squad leaders repeated the command, as well as, the pivot men in each contubernium. Two heartbeats after Senior Centurion Publius signaled the Century’s heavy infantrymen gathered the muscles in their shoulders and legs. As a single entity, they powered forward.

  Alerio noted the change in attitude in the Century across from his. Almost as if witnessing a bull inhale before charging, the infantrymen rose, flexed, and lowered their shields.

  “Brace, brace, brace,” Corporal Sisera shouted.

  Two of his squads repeated the order but neither Optio Gustavi or Centurion Megellus paid him any attention. As a result, two-thirds of the Century went from pushing to being knocked over and kicked as the opposing Century battered their way through Megellus Century. Only a two-squad huddle with Alerio fought off the advancing Century.

  Unprepared, the twenty-four men in reserve were knocked off their feet as were the four men stationed for resupply. Then, the assaulting Century fell on the supply mules and when they left, the food, beverages, and extra weapons went with them.

  The heavy infantrymen stopped to kick anyone on the ground, including the Optio and Centurion, as they filtered back to their original position.

  The only men to avoid the violence of the winning Century were Corporal Sisera and his two squads. They stood behind a barricade of shields daring the assaulters to come at them.

  “That was both sickening and embarrassing, Centurion Megellus,” Publius stated looking down with disgust at the horizontal infantry officer. “Everyone of your ladies should consider going home to work on their weaving skills. Because it seems your Century has no cōleī for combat. Pull out of my skirmish line and move your sorry cūlī to the end position.”

  Fenoris Megellus rolled onto his hands and knees then shoved back and up. Holding his arms where a hobnailed boot’s toe had kicked him, the infantry officer looked up at the Senior Centurion.

  “I didn’t know. We didn’t get a warning the rules had changed,” Megellus protested.

  Publius raised his chin to look over the disheveled Century. On the other side of the line, the Legionaries were drinking the captured vino and eating the seized food.

  “Centurion. Did the rules change?” Publius called to the other infantry officer.

  The Centurion took a stream of vino, lowered the wineskin, and replied, “There is only one rule in the heavy infantry, Senior Centurion. Win at all cost.”

  “There you go Megellus. No new rule, just a total defeat on the shields of your betters,” Publius described. “Now, drag your sorry excuse of a Century out of my combat line before you infect any of my other Centuries.”

  Hisses and the word ‘pests’ followed the Century as they picked each other up, gathered their gear, and marched to the far end of the line. Alerio walked at the rear, his eyes downcast and his brain screaming in protest at the insults. And the shame he felt at his Centurion and Optio for allowing the assault to succeed.

  When they reached the last position, they found themselves facing a bunch of recruits fresh out of Legionary training.

  “They shouldn’t be a problem,” Caudini suggested.

  “Why?” asked Alerio. “If we aren’t acting like a unit, any Century with cohesion will dance right through us. Unbloodied or not.”

  “You really think so?” inquired the Lance Corporal from 5th Squad.

  Alerio ignored the question and strolled to where Megellus and Gustavi stood talking.

  “It was rough but our plan worked,” Gustavi said.

  “What plan?” demanded Alerio.

  “After studying the Legion attack line, I analyzed the best location for survival,” Megellus replied. “In my opinion, I deduced the opportune position was at the end of the maniple.”

  “You do know, sir, they call the ends of the line the fifty percent solution?” questioned Alerio.

  “Explain yourself and the meaning of that vague refere
nce,” demanded Megellus.

  “It simple, Centurion. Command figures that a bad Century is held back by about fifty percent of the members,” Alerio stated. “The Century at the end of the line faces not only infantry to the front but cavalry and skirmishers coming at them from the side. At the end of a battle, only fifty percent of the end Century will survive. Command assumes the worst half will die and thus provide a valid solution for a problem Century.”

  “And we are…?” stammered Megellus.

  “The fifty percent solution, sir,” Alerio assured him.

  ***

  For the rest of the afternoon, they clashed with the new Century across the line. When the other units stopped for refreshments at midday, Megellus Century went without. Their supplies having been consumed by the assaulting Century. Word spread throughout the Century about the Optio and Centurion conspiring to downgrade the Century.

  What hurt the most, they were now viewed as an embarrassment in the eyes of the Legion’s command staff and in the opinion of the other heavy infantry Centuries.

  Legionaries had armor, helmets, gladii, and javelins. But their single biggest asset, the one thing that pushed them through training and drove them to defeat the enemies of the Republic was pride. They could forgive going without food and drink but they could never forgive their infantry officer and their Sergeant for trampling on their pride.

  “Lance Corporal Dircium. Send me a body,” ordered Alerio.

  “Why?” Trax from 2nd Squad questioned.

  “Because I asked for one,” Alerio said while walking up to the squad leader. “Draw your gladius, Decanus. Do it. Let’s see who has the bigger mentula.”

  Trax Dircium had crossed his Corporal several times and in each instance, the Lance Corporal had come away hurting. Under Sisera’s glare, he shrugged and pointed to one of his infantrymen.

  “Private Zelatus. Go with the Tesserarius,” he ordered.

  Alerio guided the Private away from his squad. As they walked, he called to 4th Squad, “Lance Corporal Enitui, Give me a body.”