Infinite Courage Page 3

Gentle waves rolled by lifting Alerio and for a moment he could see the shoreline. Then it moved on and, from the trough between waves, his vision was restricted to the high ground above the beach. On the crest of the next wave, he lifted an arm and signaled for the swim to begin.

  Pentri Umbria raced into the water followed by four others. The aggressive swimmers splashed into the sea then Alerio lost sight of them as he floated between waves. On the next lift, he noted the beach was mostly empty. Only a few hesitant Legionaries remained but they were walking into the shallows.

  He was far enough out to make the swim challenging without being an endurance course. Once the Optio arrived, they would organize a swim to test the Century’s skills.

  A single swimmer came out of the swells and Alerio assumed it was the Decanus from 6th Squad. Behind the lead, four more stroked and kicked the surface trying to catch Pentri. But they didn’t seem to be gaining on the swift Legionary. The five rounded their Corporal and headed for the beach. Treading water, Alerio rotated to watch the race for second place. Then the splashing of arms and hammering of feet by a multitude reached him and, at the top of a wave, he saw the bulk of the Century approach. Resembling a school of fish breaking the surface or an isolated storm creating white caps, they churned the water and kicked sprays high into the air. If there was a sea monster in the area, the chaos of the Century swimming around Alerio was sure to drive it away.

  The stronger swimmers positioned themselves on the outside of the pack. They swung wide to avoid the mass of lifting arms and thrashing legs. Closer to the turning point, some attempted to cut the distance by crowding to the inside. To prevent from being overrun, Alerio shoved a few back, making them swim around him. It worked and swimmers following those in front flowed by at a distance.

  The first segment of the Century had completed the U-turn and was heading for the shore. Behind them, the bulk of men had just reached Alerio’s position and begun to circle. Further back, the slowest segment had yet to reach the turning point.

  On a wave, Alerio looked for the beach. It was empty. Just before the wave passed, he noted a single figure nearing the shoreline. Lance Corporal Umbria was indeed as swift as he claimed.

  A swimmer nudged his right shoulder. Believing the line of returning and circling swimmers was about to swim over him, Alerio fluttered his legs and swung his arms to turn and fend off the mob.

  Then webbing flew over his head, sunlight filtered momentarily through a checkerboard pattern, before a fishing net descended over his head and shoulders. Three pairs of arms slammed into him and shoved Alerio under the water.

  The natural tendency when something falls over your head was to lift your arms and attempt to dislodge the object. Alerio began to reach for the fishing net. But the hands pressing down on his shoulders helped the weapons instructor focus. Instead of trying to fight the hands and the net, he dug under the silk bandage around his waist.

  Between the small lead weights distributed around the edges of the net and the pressure of the hands, Alerio sank. His lungs cried out for air and he wanted to battle his way back to the surface. Shoving aside the urge to take in a breath, Alerio concentrated on locating his assailants.

  The thought of turning the water red with their blood and leaving their traitorous bodies for the fish ran through Alerio’s mind. Resisting the temptation, the Corporal jabbed out with the Ally of the Golden Valley dagger. The long double-edged blade pushed through the netting and sank into flesh. Before the wounded man could backstroke away, the dagger retreated, swung to Alerio’s front, and again breached the rope. After deeply puncturing another man’s flesh, the blade withdrew.

  Far under the surface and free from the grips of two men, Alerio could have cut the net and escaped. But then the third assassin would swim away unmarked. Scissoring his legs, Alerio fought the weight of the net, moved upward, and shoved the blade at the last assailant. He was rewarded with the satisfying feel of a blade entering skin and slicing flesh. The Legionary assassin must have twisted away from the sharp edge, causing the blade to slice sideways.

  There was a cloud of blood in the water when Alerio retracted the dagger and guided it up along the profile of his face. When the blade reached the fibers on his head, Alerio cut the net and allowed it to settle on his shoulders. He wanted the net, he wanted the men who attacked him, and he wanted the man who planned the mission. But mostly, Corporal Sisera wanted a breath of air. With powerful thrusts, he kicked for the surface.

  ***

  The thrashing of the weaker swimmers hid the attack. None noticed and that was fine with Alerio. He wanted revenge not help. But a Tesserarius lacked the authority to order a hearing or a session on the punishment post. What he controlled were pay and supplies. While those tasks wouldn’t satisfy his immediate need for retaliation, one of his jobs did. Dragging the fishing net, the Corporal swam behind the last Legionary in the Century and thought of the best Legion practice for doing his duty and punishing the offenders.

  At the beach, Alerio dunked his head and slipped the fishing net from around his neck. He left it underwater and strolled onto the beach directly to the section with rocks and gravel. As if following a ritual, he selected and stacked larger stones.

  “What are those for, Corporal Sisera?” a Legionary inquired.

  “An altar to my personal Goddess,” Alerio replied while arranging the rocks into separate columns.

  “Who is she?”

  The Legionary didn’t get an answer. His Tesserarius was already moving away from the little shrine and marching in the direction of the NCOs’ tent.

  ***

  “Grilli. I need two favors.”

  “Whatever you need, Corporal Sisera.”

  “I want a limb about the length of my arm and as thick as my wrist,” Alerio replied. “And I need the mule handlers to go on a hunt.”

  “A few handlers spotted boar tracks in the hills,” Grilli reported. “It shouldn’t take much to gather a hunting party. And finding the stick isn’t a problem. Can I inquire why you need it?”

  “In your own words, I’m about to become someone’s worst nightmare,” Alerio said as he ducked into the tent. Moments later, he emerged wearing a tunic, his hobnailed boots, and a dual gladius rig strapped on his back. “Just leave the stick by the tent. I’ll collect it later.”

  Decanus Tescum watched as the Corporal crossed from the NCOs’ tent to 10th Squad’s area.

  “That is an interesting harness, Tesserarius,” observed Lucius.

  “It comes in handy at times, Lance Corporal Tescum,” Alerio offered. “Go to the beach and call in the Century. Once everyone is gone, have Palinurus locate a little temple I built. Straight down from it, he’ll find a fishing net in the water.”

  “We’ll retrieve the net for you,” Tescum promised.

  “Keep it hidden until I call for it.”

  The short squad leader started for the beach and Alerio wondered why he didn’t order the squad to follow him.

  “Lucius is moving,” right pivot Palinurus announced. “10th Squad, get up, and get moving.”

  The big man lumbered after his Decanus followed by the other six men of the contubernium. Alerio started to ask about the unusual command structure when Lucius turned his head, winked, and faced back towards the beach. As long as the squad performed, Alerio would let them work things out their own way.

  Corporal Sisera marched to the Centurion’s tent, turned about, and marched back down the length of the camp. During his patrol, the Legionaries who lingered on the beach returned. When 10th Squad appeared, he noticed Palinurus had a large bulge under his tunic.

  “Maximus Century. We have a grave issue,” Alerio announced while turning to check each squad. Then he paused and eyed one in particular. “We have infantrymen missing. 1st Squad, you are short three men.”

  “Three of my contubernium have fallen ill,” Horatius Ostrei answered. “If we had servants, it wouldn’t have happened.”

  The statement surprised Ale
rio. Was that Ostrei’s problem with him? No, the Lance Corporal expected to be the Tesserarius. The lack of servants was probably just one issue Horatius used to gather sympathy for his claim.

  “If they are too ill to appear, we’ll send them to the Legion for treatment,” offered Alerio. “4th Squad, send a runner to the mule handlers. Have them prepare litters. The rest of you help Decanus Ostrei bring his men out of the tent.”

  Lance Corporal Acharis Enitui turned to one of his 4th Squad Legionaries and started to issue the order. Ostrei spoke up and halted the process.

  “That won’t be necessary,” Horatius stated. “They just need a little rest and they’ll be fine.”

  “My information is for every heavy infantryman in the Century,” Alerio advised. “They don’t have to stand to listen. Call them out.”

  Horatius crossed his arms, elevated his chin, and stood in the defiant pose daring the Corporal to challenge him.

  “Century. On your feet,” Alerio ordered. Of the Legionaries in the other nine squads, about half were sitting. They stood and the NCO called out. “Stand By.”

  “Standing by, Corporal,” Seventy-two men replied while stomping their right feet.

  Dissention in the ranks wasn’t unheard of in the Legion. Aggressive Legionaries clashed over everything from personalities to rations. The disputes were handled in one of two ways. A fight under an Optio’s supervision or a ruling by an infantry officer. Alerio had neither handy, so he used the one tool at his command. Despite what any of the Legionaries felt about Corporal Sisera, discipline and pride wouldn’t let them sit down, fix dinner, or even move without his release.

  An ominous calm fell over the camp as the squads waited. Some Legionaries shuffled their feet but were quickly silenced by their squad leaders. They realized the conflict between Sisera and Ostrei needed to be resolved for the good of the Century.

  Birds chirped as they flew overhead and the sounds of waves crashing on the beach carried to the Legionaries. The stillness stretched out until Ostrei broke.

  “Help them,” he ordered the other members of 1st Squad.

  The four healthy ones ducked into the tent. Moments later, they reappeared supporting wounded men.

  One had a bloody wrap on his thigh, another held a red-soaked compress to his side, and the third clutched a piece of blood-stained cloth to his left shoulder.

  “What’s this?” Alerio shouted. “These men have been attacked.”

  Ostrei’s mouth fell open at the surprise in the Tesserarius’ voice. Grumbling came from the rest of the Century as they saw the bloody injuries.

  “This cannot stand,” Alerio announced. “There may be retribution. Who knows if the assailants will come for 1st Squad in the dead of the night?”

  Horatius Ostrei flinched at the wording. None of the other squad leaders picked up on the threat.

  “Orders, Corporal?” asked Telesia Caudini from 5th Squad.

  “We will protect 1st Squad,” Alerio replied. “Every tent will have a Legionary on watch throughout the night. No harm will come to our 1st Squad. Century, stand down.”

  Ostrei and the 1st Squad relaxed. Corporal Sisera hadn’t accused them of attempted murder. And having to post a watch, wasn’t really a punishment.

  Alerio strolled to 10th Squad, took something from Palinurus, and carried it back to the Centurion’s tent. Reaching up, he hung the fishing net on the front tent pole. As he walked away, Alerio looked into Ostrei’s eyes and smiled a toothy, silly grin.

  It was going to be a long night for 1st Squad. They didn’t know it yet, because Corporal Sisera made an announcement giving them another worry.

  “Tomorrow, we’re holding a hill climbing competition. Squad against squad elimination rounds. Get lots of rest tonight, you’ll need every man in your contubernium at his best.”

  A Century’s Tesserarius could short pay a Legionary, sink a promotion, or withhold supplies. In this case, Alerio used his position as the training NCO to schedule a brutal form of conditioning. Unfortunately for Lance Corporal Ostrei, the 1st Squad wasn’t at their best.

  Chapter 4 – Victoria Hill

  “In the name of the Goddess Victoria, we dedicate this competition,” Alerio announced.

  The Century stood in ranks facing their Corporal and behind him the nine-hundred-foot hill. They nodded reflexively at his words, but the heavy infantrymen were distracted. Drifting on the early morning air, the aroma of roasting swine made their stomachs rumble and their mouths water.

  At the end of the practice field, two large boars crackled on spits. Mule handlers rotated them over fires and, based on the smell, had been since last night. In addition to the meat, wineskins and loaves of bread were lined up and waiting for the winning squads.

  However, before the Legionaries feasted, they had to claim victory over the hill by beating other squads to the top. The promise of food almost overcame the apprehension of the steep climb.

  “Lance Corporals, on me,” Alerio directed. The ten squad leaders marched from the ranks and formed a semicircle around the Tesserarius. “The rules are simple. Win two heats and your contubernium eats. Lose, and your squad keeps climbing.”

  “I object to the competition,” Horatius Ostrei complained. He pointed at the murderous incline and added. “1st Squad has injuries.”

  “If all the squads can’t participate, we’ll cancel the climb,” Alerio announced.

  A smile came over Ostrei’s face then it fled from his features.

  “Grilli. Take the pigs and the bread and throw them in the ocean,” the Corporal ordered while he walked away. “We’ll not have games today or a feast. 1st Squad has issued a protest.”

  Sixty-three voices roared their disapproval and turned angry faces towards the seven Privates of Ostrei’s contubernium standing in ranks. Several heavy infantrymen up the stakes by pointing at 1st Squad and mouthing threats. The danger to the contubernium didn’t go unnoticed by the squad leaders.

  “Corporal Sisera, hold that order,” Trax Dircium, the Decanus of 2nd Squad, requested. “We’d like to discuss a resolution.”

  “There’s only one acceptable solution,” Alerio remarked as he continued to walk away. “Grilli. How tender is that boar?”

  The mule handler drew a knife and sliced off a piece. With it between his fingers, Grilli held it aloft and allowed the juice to drip from the fresh pig. Then he put his face under the meat, caught some drippings in his mouth, and took a bite.

  “Corporal Sisera. It must be the salt grass they feed on,” Grilli reported. “This boar is some of the tastiest pig I’ve ever had. It will be a sin to waste it.”

  Groans came from the ranks as the Legionaries smacked their lips in anticipation of having a taste for themselves.

  “Ostrei. What happened to your men?” Lucius Tescum demanded.

  “Watch your tone with me, little man,” Ostrei warned.

  “He asked a valid question,” Telesia Caudini observed. “And if you want to threaten someone, try me.”

  “Bickering isn’t getting us anywhere,” Acharis Enitui, Decanus of 4th Squad, pointed out. “How did your men become injured?”

  “We’d all like an answer to that question,” added Quiris Stulte from 9th Squad. “No one saw them attacked by another contubernium.”

  “It’s complicated,” Ostrei offered.

  “A simple answer is not complicated,” Hallus Italus from 3rd Squad stated. “Dealing with angry Legionaries in my tent is. Your men have knife wounds, not stomach ailments or fevers. How did they get them?”

  “I don’t know,” stammered Ostrei.

  “You strut around telling everyone you should be the Tesserarius,” responded Pentri Umbria. “Yet you don’t know when your own contubernium takes knives to each other. And now you want the entire Century to suffer from your neglect?”

  “There is one possibility,” Trax Dircium suggested. “Unconscious men can’t run. I volunteer the 2nd Squad to beat them. At least I’ll get some pig and not have
to listen to my contubernium complain for a week.”

  “9th Squad will join in the punishment,” added Quiris Stulte.

  “You would beat me and my squad over a little pig?” Ostrei asked in horror.

  “Hades man, heavy infantrymen would certainly beat you over roasted swine,” Caricini Aternus from 7th Squad assured him. “Up north during one campaign, I watched two men die while fighting over a rotting elk corpse. And even after cooking, you could smell the death.”

  “From the elk or from the Legionaries?” Trax inquired.

  “From all three,” Caricini replied. “We still ate the meat before burying the men.”

  Horatius Ostrei peered into the stern faces of the other squad leaders. His dream of being the Century’s Tesserarius, as did his defiance, died at that moment. Even if selected by the Optio or Centurion, these men would never accept his authority.

  “1st Squad will climb,” he declared.

  “Corporal Sisera. In the name of the Goddess Victoria, let the games begin,” announced Acharis Enitui. “1st squad will climb.”

  Cheers from the ranks drowned out Corporal Sisera’s words but the arm gesture to Grilli was unmistakable. The feast would not be discarded. As the yelling faded, Alerio strolled back to the squad leaders.

  “Two wins and you feast,” he repeated then added. “We’ll use a reverse line up. The first match is 1st Squad against 10th Squad. Then 2nd against the 9th.”

  As the squad leaders went to their contuberniums to explain the rotation, Lucius Tescum moved alongside Ostrei.

  “Let’s see if you can keep up with this little man, cūlus,” Lucius whispered. “And later, maybe you and I should have a discussion about respect.”

  ***

  Corporal Sisera picked up a large stick from the ground and stood at the base of the hill.

  “Two wins and you feast,” he said while tapping one end of the branch into the palm of his hand. The motion resembled a man threatening to attack someone with a club. “Squads, stand by.”

  “Standing by, Corporal,” the sixteen racers responded.

  “Go!”