Infinite Courage Read online

  10th Squad managed to run up the face before the steep incline forced them to lean forward and use their hands. While Tescum’s contubernium moved steadily up the hill, Ostrei’s struggled. The leg wound caused immediate issues and required two men supporting the injured man. They fell behind. Then the Tesserarius dashed up beside them. As he climbed, he offered encouragement.

  “1st Squad, you are falling behind. At this pace, you’ll be on the hill all morning,” Alerio informed them. “When I was at Volsinii, I watched heavy infantrymen die on slopes not much steeper than this. You won’t die today. But you’ll feel like it.”

  Corporal Sisera moved on and reached the top just behind the 10th Squad.

  On the practice field, the waiting Squads appreciated the Corporal taking time to motivate the distressed Legionaries.

  “Come on 1st Squad, put your hearts into it,” Alerio called down while tapping the stick into his palm. They reached the top and fell on the crest. Alerio lifted the stick, waved it, and shouted down to the practice field. “2nd Squad and 9th, on the line. Go.”

  While the next two contuberniums raced up the grade, the first two squads picked their way down to the base of the hill. One needed to race and win one more heat before they were done. 10th Squad had a chance. The 1st Squad didn’t. The man with the wound at his waist was already bleeding through his bandage and bending over favoring his side.

  It went unnoticed that Corpora Sisera didn’t tap the club into his palms once Ostrei’s unit left the course. He held the stick along his leg or waved it overhead to signal more starts. But the next time 1st Squad came to the line; the branch dropped and began tapping Alerio’s palm.

  ***

  For the fourth time, 1st Squad staggered to the base of the hill. With them were the Legionaries of 8th Squad. All sixteen were covered in dirt, sweat, and blood. Most from cuts on their hands and skinned knees. But the bandages on Ostrei’s men were saturated and the wounded Legionaries had their eyes compressed against the pain. Seeing the struggling unit, the caring Corporal Sisera scrambled down to the starting line.

  “I feel terrible about the suffering of this contubernium,” the Tesserarius proclaimed while tapping the club into his palm. “Maybe we should call off the rest of the games. I fear the squad can’t continue. The six remaining squads will return to the Century area and forgo the feast.”

  “Hades Tesserarius, I can’t help it if 1st Squad is dēfutūta,” a Legionary announced. “I’ve been up this hill and I’ve earned my share.”

  “But if 1st Squad doesn’t make it to the top,” Alerio mentioned as the stick continued to tap his hand. “Then your victory won’t count.”

  “They will make it up the hill,” promised the Legionary. “Even if I have to kick their cūlī almost to the top.”

  “If that’s what it takes to keep the competition going. Stand by. Go!”

  The five healthy but exhausted members of 1st Squad attempted to help the three injured men. When they faltered, Apulia Frentani’s 8th Squad stepped up behind them and shoved, kicked, and even picked up two and tossed them up the hill. As ugly and brutal as the climb was, Corporal Sisera watched impassively while tapping his palm with the club.

  By the sixth round, Horatius Ostrei and 1st Squad were on their knees at the starting line. Only one other squad stood with them. The remainder of the Century lounged around eating slices of boar and bread. Between streams of vino, they called out insults at the final two squads.

  “Lance Corporal Enitui. Take 4th Squad to the top then join me at the feast,” Alerio directed.

  “What about the 1st Squad?”

  “Once your contubernium has been served, they are welcome to crawl over like snakes and join real men at the feast.”

  While the eight men swarmed up the slope, Corporal Sisera marched to Horatius Ostrei. The Lance Corporal knelt in the dirt with his forehead resting on the ground. Alerio squatted beside him and leaned close to the Decanus’ ear.

  “The next time you want someone dead, be sure the job is done right,” Alerio whispered. “And maybe come for me yourself. It’ll save me the trouble of cutting your throat in the night.”

  The stick hit the ground and bounced. Then another item clicked as it landed by the club. Horatius raised his head and gawked at his own coin purse.

  “And fix the slit in the back of your tent,” Alerio ordered as he stood and peered up at the eight men almost at the top of Victoria hill. “Dig deep 4th Squad, you’re almost there.”

  Act 2

  Chapter 5 – Usurped, mangled?

  Three days later, while the Century ran unarmored shield drills, five wagons appeared on the beach. Rolling from the south and with an Optio on the lead wagon, suggested the caravan was coming from the Legion camps at Velia.

  “Corporal Sisera. Looks like we’ll soon be doing this with real shields,” Trax Dircium said while pointing to the supply caravan.

  “And none too soon,” Alerio replied. “I’m sick of watching you show off those titan-like arms.”

  “They do make the other lads jealous.”

  “Lance Corporals. Work with your contuberniums,” Alerio shouted. “I’m going to greet our visitor.”

  Alerio dropped down the embankment from the practice field and marched partway across the gravel zone. While he waited for the slow-moving wagons to reach him, the Corporal took the measure of the Sergeant sitting on the first wagon.

  He was a middle-aged man with a shot of white in the short hair at his temples and wore a frown on his lean face. The Optio didn’t look in Alerio’s direction. Rather the Sergeant sat stiffly on the seat board, stretching his long neck to observe the Century’s empty-handed drills.

  “Optio Gustavi?” Alerio inquired

  The wagon driver reined in the horses and the first rolled to a stop.

  “I’m Ibis Gustavi. Who are you?”

  “Corporal Alerio Sisera, Tesserarius of Maximus Century,” Alerio reported. “We’re glad…”

  The Sergeant cut him off with a sharp jerk of his arm.

  “First off, it is Megellus Century,” Ibis stated before swinging down from the wagon seat. Once on the ground, he spun and looked down his nose at Alerio. “And I haven’t appointed my Tesserarius, yet.”

  “Yes, Optio,” Alerio replied then attempted to explain. “It’s just that Senator Spurius Maximus ordered me here as your second in command NCO.”

  “Senator Maximus is in the Capital and not in Licosa,” Gustavi advised. “Whereas Centurion Fenoris Megellus is here and in command.”

  “The Centurion is here?” Alerio asked.

  “In the villa up the beach and has been for two days,” the Sergeant informed Alerio. “The slow dances the squads are doing on the practice field, is that your work?”

  “Yes Sergeant. We didn’t have equipment so I thought the drilling would help with unit cohesion,” Alerio reported.

  “They look silly and the drills are unnecessary,” Gustavi commented. “It’s not why the Century was formed.”

  “It’s not?”

  The Sergeant didn’t respond to the question. He turned and spoke to the wagon driver.

  “Drop my gear at the NCOs’ tent and take the wagon to the villa,” Gustavi ordered. He lifted an arm and indicated for the remaining wagons to head for the camp. Only when the horses were in motion did the Optio address Alerio.

  “Corporal Sisera. Seeing as you’ve usurped command, order Megellus Century to the camp,” Gustavi instructed. He emphasized the new name of the unit. “Let’s see how badly you’ve mangled the squad assignments.”

  Usurped, mangled? Alerio’s head buzzed with the words as he marched off the beach. When he met with Spurius Maximus, the Senator had been clear in his goals for funding the Century.

  ***

  A few weeks ago, Alerio stood in front of Maximus’ desk as the Senator finished reading a missive. Laying down the parchment, he looked up and smiled.

  “Stand easy Corporal Sisera. For the Legiona
ries in a shield wall their motivation is to live and remain uninjured,” the former General stated. “Killing the enemy assures the first two. Walking away from a battle healthy, as well as, receiving steady pay and full rations is their reward.”

  “It is that sir,” Alerio agreed.

  “Step back one layer from the battle line and the Corporal’s goal is to assure his squads take ground and perform as a unit. His pay is higher, rations more substantial, and he may receive a little extra if they win the fight with a heroic deed or two,” Maximus stated. “Step back, metaphorically, and the Optio has responsibility for the discipline of his Century. Pay, yes, and rations absolutely but, his drive goes beyond the immediate fight. If successful in routing the foe, a Sergeant may receive a bonus from the capture of soldiers and enemy weapons.”

  “It’s a rather simplified way to look at the duties of a Century’s NCOs, sir,” remarked Alerio.

  “I have a point to make and while your observation is correct, you’ll miss it if you focus on the mundane,” the Senator cautioned. After his protégé dipped his head in acknowledgment, Senator Maximus continued. “An infantry officer has additional motivation beyond pay, food, and bonuses. Showing his courage to his Century and the senior officers may get a Centurion a small piece of the slaves, weapon sales, and confiscated goods. And if he and his Century show extreme bravery, they are used in strategic areas with more chances to collect honors and accolades.”

  “You make the Legion sound like craftsmen in a marketplace,” Alerio observed.

  “Now you’re beginning to understand this lecture,” the Senator commented. “The Senior Centurion and Senior Tribune are beyond caring about their pay schedule or worry about their next meal. They have more on the line, so to speak, with concerns about keeping their positions. Success brings them shares of spoils and rewards from the battle commander and the General. Plus, the senior staff may collect accolades from the Senate with the promise of bags of gold. I’ll not talk about the Coronels. They are professional military with designs on a Senatorial position or being selected by the next General as a battle commander. But what about the Consul/General? A parade through the city with throngs singing his praises or orders from the Senate isn’t why he risks life and reputation to march a Legion off to war.”

  Alerio shifted his feet, feeling uncomfortable at someone discussing a Consul in mercenary terms. But Spurius Maximus was a prior Consul, a General, a hero of the Republic for his campaigns against the Samnites, and a powerful Senator. While a farm lad wouldn’t, a politically astute man of Maximus’ status could describe motives in any manner he saw fit.

  “A winning Consul when he returns to the Senate owns far more than when he marched out. What comes back to the Capital as a victorious General are acres of land, sacks of gold, and personal trade agreements with important people in subjugated cities,” the Senator explained. “But there are hidden men behind it all. Men who loan money to the Republic to fund the Legion. Armor, weapons, rations, pay, and the means to transport the Legion to battle are expensive. To gather the amount necessary, the Republic reaches out to these wealthy men.”

  “Men like you, sir,” Alerio suggested.

  “Yes. And I expect victory and a return on my investment. But there is another side to this. My desire to protect the Republic. Between the barbarians to our north and the encroachment by the Qart Hadasht Empire to our south, we must defend the Republic,” Maximus professed. “In the end Corporal Sisera, war is about profit and protecting our wealth.”

  “Sir, I appreciate you educating me, but as a simple infantryman, I have no investment funds. And unfortunately, no head for business or politics,” Alerio exclaimed. “There has to be another reason you ordered me here.”

  “You are about to be put in a position to start reaping some of the benefits of war. As the Corporal of a combat Century, your assets will increase. Earn glory and victory and you’ll soon be an Optio. As your patron, I can promise you the promotions won’t stop with the Sergeant’s rank,” the Senator assured Alerio. “I wanted you to understand the monetary side because I’m funding a Century and you’re going to be the Tesserarius.”

  “I’m honored, sir. But the Corporal is chosen by the Century’s Optio and Centurion,” Alerio reminded him. Then he thought for a moment and questioned. “You’ve just explained the monetary advantages of war by a Legion. What is the upside of funding a Century?”

  “Almost none, unless the Century does something extraordinary,” Maximus admitted. “I have a friend who lost most of his merchant fleet over the last year. He had purchased a Tribune position for his son. Unfortunately, Fenoris Megellus got stationed with the Northern Legion in a support command. For three years, the young noblemen supervised the building of bridges, roads, and Legion posts. In the end, he earned no glory or bonuses. Now my friend’s son is without means. As a favor, I’m funding a Century for Fenoris.”

  “Wouldn’t it be cheaper to buy him a Tribune position on a General’s staff?”

  “Sisera, you may not have a head for business or politics, but you do form interesting questions,” teased the Senator. “While helping a friend, I also aim to help his son. Being an infantry officer will mature him and place him under strict Senior Centurions.”

  “Or get him killed, Senator,” Alerio suggested.

  “That’s why I want you there to train the Century,” Maximus remarked. “Centurion Megellus and his Optio, a man named Ibis Gustavi, are recruiting infantrymen and buying armor and weapons. Belen will give you coins to purchase tents and camp supplies.”

  “Thank you for the opportunity, General.”

  “Don’t thank me yet, Corporal Sisera,” Maximus warned. “You’ll be an outsider forced on the Century. I have no concerns about you gaining the respect of the Legionaries. I fear your bigger challenge will be winning over the Centurion and the Optio.”

  The Senator’s words faded and Optio Gustavi’s words returned, “Seeing as you’ve usurped command, order Megellus Century to the camp. Let’s see how badly you’ve mangled the squad assignments.”

  Chapter 6 – Ill-equipped for War

  As the Legionaries marched in, Ibis Gustavi came out of the NCOs’ tent. He strolled the length of the camp as each contubernium fell out of formation and positioned themselves at their tents. Alerio followed the Sergeant to the infantry officer’s tent.

  “Horatius. What is that fishing net doing on the Centurion’s quarters?” the Optio demanded of the Decanus from 1st Squad.

  Horatius Ostrei shifted his eyes from the sliced net to Gustavi, to Sisera, and back to the Sergeant.

  “It was found and nobody claimed it,” Ostrei replied.

  “Well it doesn’t belong on Centurion Megellus’ tent,” Gustavi declared. He took the net down and tossed it towards the center of the camp. Then, the Sergeant scanned the squads. “Not how I would have placed them, but it’s acceptable. Good job, Horatius.”

  “Optio, I didn’t place the squads, Corporal Sisera did,” Horatius corrected the Sergeant.

  “You were signed on as the Tesserarius. Why haven’t you taken charge?”

  Alerio stared at Lance Corporal Ostrei and allowed a tight smile to crease his lips. Horatius paused before answering.

  “Corporal Sisera and I discussed the position and we decided he should be the Century’s Tesserarius.”

  “Since when do junior NCOs make command decisions? This is not a democracy,” bellowed Gustavi. A moment later, he calmed down and instructed. “Horatius. Move your gear to the NCOs’ tent. Sisera, you will take over 1st Squad.”

  Ostrei’s squad shifted nervously. The prospect of living in close quarters with a man who might hold a vendetta against them sent chills up four of their spines. The other three reach for their wounds and cupped their bandages.

  “It’s your Century, Optio Gustavi,” Alerio remarked.

  “Yes, it is. Now move your gear, Lance Corporal Sisera,” Gustavi ordered. His choice of words implying a reduction i
n rank for Alerio.

  “I wish you luck with it,” Alerio added. “I’ll be moving to the Legions at Velia.”

  1st Squad relaxed at avoiding the new squad leader.

  “You’ll do nothing of the kind. I gave you an order,” Gustavi informed him. “Maybe a session on the punishment post will teach you to respect an order from your Optio.”

  “Sergeant Gustavi. I suspect you had every man here sign an enlistment form and gave them an advance in pay.”

  “Of course, that’s the usual procedure,” the Optio responded.

  “I never signed my name or accepted pay,” Alerio informed the Sergeant. “Thus, you are not my Optio, I am not part of this Century, and I am not going on the punishment post.”

  “Then pack your things and go,” ordered Gustavi. “Corporal Ostrei. 1st through 4th Squads equipment is in the front wagon. The rest of the gear is in the other wagons with supplies. Instruct the men to unload them.”

  Alerio was halfway to the NCOs’ tent when Horatius cleared his throat.

  “Century, stand by,” the newly promoted Corporal Ostrei shouted.

  No stomp or vocal reaction came from the squads. Silence fell over the camp. The only sound was the crunch of Alerio’s hobnailed boots on the sand.

  “Your Tesserarius has called for your attention,” Gustavi growled. “I expect results. Corporal Ostrei, again.”

  “Century, stand by!”

  All ten squads including 1st turned and faced their tents. Respect for their NCOs was the thread that held a Century together. Heavy infantrymen were expected to hold a shield wall and maneuver while engaged with an enemy. They could only do that if the men giving orders were revered. Punishment for a few rule breakers was expected and necessary for discipline. But an entire Century voting with their backs spoke to their lack of esteem for Horatius Ostrei.

  “Century, stand by,” Sergeant Gustavi ordered.

  For a moment, he feared a total mutiny. Then, the squads turned about and replied, “Standing by, Optio.”

  “Fall out and empty the wagons.”