Fatal Obligation Page 5

  Chapter 8 – A Father’s Glory

  Off to his left and above the trees, the Samnite’s stronghold of Abellinum rested on the high ground. A few things came to Alerio’s mind. He knew the Via Appia had been constructed to facilitate the movement of military units during the Samnite wars. But seeing Abellinum only five miles away meant this section of the road was the staging area for the Legions. They camped here before marching up hill and attacking the fortress. The elevation and the walls gave him a new appreciation for the Legionaries who climbed the heights to bring the Samnite to the peace table. His patron, Senator Maximus, spoke with respect of the tribes’ fighting abilities.

  As if Senator Maximus’ words willed the thought to life, the road swept gracefully around a rocky outcrop and the village came into view. Huts and buildings occupied the corners of the crossroads and on the roads stood ranks of men in armor. Although mismatched in dress, their formations were ordered. Each Osci warrior held a spear and a shield, and the unit facing west on the Via Appia lowered theirs as Alerio approached.

  “Halt, Latian,” ordered a tall man with a drawn sword.

  If this had been on a barren stretch, Alerio would have taken the chariot into the fields and gone around them. But the village covered a large area. The Osci had archers and mounted warriors plus a Legion cavalry patrol was outside a large tent. With no way to avoid it, he reined in the horses. The team stopped three spear lengths from the ranks of iron tips.

  “What is the meaning of blocking the Republic’s road,” he demanded.

  “Osci land, Osci fields, Osci mountains, Osci rivers and streams,” the unit’s commander recited. “Osci steel and muscle. Osci road!”

  The Samnite leaders had signed a treaty and ended the war about twenty-six years ago. Long before Alerio was born and when the Osci Lieutenant was just a wee lad. Yet, he maintained a tribal attitude.

  Alerio glanced back up the road, down to each side of the chariot, lifted a hand to shield his eyes, and gazed further eastward.

  “Can you even read the mile markers, you illiterate cūlus?” question the Legionary.

  The Samnite Lieutenant wasn’t the only one with an attitude.

  “What did you say to me?”

  “I asked if the sword in your hand is for slicing bread or cutting grain,” Alerio replied.

  “My sword and my arm slay braggarts and fools.”

  “How do you do against Legionaries?”

  “Step down off your woman’s ride and I’ll show you.”

  Alerio pulled his shield free, jammed his arm through the straps, pulled one of his swords, and jumped from the chariot.

  While the Latian prepared, the Samnite took a shield from one of his men and walked to the side of the road.

  “During the war, my father butchered Latians by the hundreds,” the Osci officer informed Alerio. He banged the side of his shield with a sword that was heavier and a quarter longer than Alerio’s custom sword. “Come, I hunger to kill one myself.”

  “Fact and lore are two different things,” suggested Alerio as he approached the Osci officer. “One fills graves with your ancestors. The other is the fantasies of a feeble old man.”

  At the insult to his father, the Lieutenant stepped forward while swinging the sword up and over his shoulder. He powered it down at the Legionary.

  Alerio stumbled to the side, just managing to get his shield in position to absorb the blow. Off balance, with his ankles crossed, the Legionary was driven down. He ended up sitting in the dirt. A cheer came from the Osci warriors. The Lieutenant stepped back and raised his arm which caused the ranks to increase their roars of approval.

  Alerio crawled to his feet and wavered before settling into a Legion guard.

  “I know women on the thrasher racks who can hit harder than that.”

  The Osci officer brought his sword down in a sweeping motion. As before, Alerio hesitated before stepping sideways to place his shield between his body and the blade. Even so, the strike rocked him and he took a couple of steps sideways before recovering.

  “I am going to cut off your legs, your arms, and then your head,” the officer assured him. “You will die slowly.”

  “Nobody is going to die from those weak cuts,” suggested Alerio. “Unless you can talk them to death.”

  The Lieutenant charged Alerio. When the shields collided, the Legionary was lifted off his feet. He flew back, landed on his heels, and tumbled over, hitting the ground hard. Shouts and screams of encouragement rose from the ranks. Again, the Osci officer stepped back and acknowledged the cheers of the Samnite soldiers.

  ***

  A group of Osci Chiefs and Legionaries stepped out of the big tent. When two of the cavalrymen moved as if to intercede, their Centurion grabbed them by their necks. The Legion officer indicated the large number of warriors around them. With grim faces and rigid backs, the Legion horsemen stood watching the fight.

  Alerio rolled over and, while bent forward, used the face of his shield to push off the ground. His awkward rise brought jeers from the ranks.

  “Are you sure your father was a warrior?” Alerio asked while blowing out his breath as if exhausted. “With your skills, I would have guessed a goat herder.”

  The Lieutenant began a series of strikes. With each rip across his shield, Alerio retreated. Back and forth, the officer chopped and the Legionary was driven further to his rear.

  After one vicious hack, the Osci’s sword swung wide leaving his midsection open. Alerio stabbed but the tip of his sword went high and glanced off the man’s armor.

  “Kill him. Kill the Latian,” the ranks of Samnite soldiers bellowed.

  With a shove to lock their shields, the Osci officer swung his sword over the shields. Before it reached Alerio’s head, the Legionary dropped to his knees. Then he fell onto his back pulling the Legion shield over him for cover.

  The Osci Lieutenant bent to get an angle for the kill. With a powerful thrust, he rammed his blade under the side of the Legion shield. Silence fell over the ranks as the warriors prepared to cheer their champion when he stood upright. But he didn’t.

  Under the Legion shield, Alerio relaxed from the bridge exercise and allowed his lower back to press the Osci’s blade into the dirt. With the Lieutenant’s wrist gripped tightly, Alerio kicked off the shield and stood.

  “Well fought, Osci,” Alerio said as he pumped the captured wrist as if they were greeting one another.

  When the Lieutenant threw off his shield and attempted to swing at Alerio, the Legionary blocked the punch with his forearm. Then, he rose on his toes and smashed the Osci’s nose with his forehead. Dragging the stunned and bleeding man towards the ranks, he raised both of their arms.

  “To a powerful enemy and a better friend,” Alerio shouted keeping the hands in the air. “Is there no wine for your champion?”

  Someone handed over a wineskin and Alerio passed it to the Lieutenant.

  “Drink, Osci. I thank you for sparing my life.”

  The Lieutenant bristled and tensed as if he was about to protest but he looked into the faces of his men. They waited to see how he would handle the situation.

  “Latian. I grant you your life and safe passage on the Osci road,” the officer pronounced. Then he took a drink and passed the vino to the Legionary.

  “To the powerful Samnite nation,” Alerio exclaimed as he raised the wineskin. “To the Osci’s legendary prowess in battle.”

  The closest ranks cheered and as Alerio’s words were passed to other units, they added their voices. Alerio dropped the Lieutenant’s arm, quickly collected his sword and shield, and mounted the chariot.

  ***

  An older Osci dressed in gold and silver armor strutted up to the Lieutenant.

  “What is going on?”

  “Chief Hirpus. I tested the Latian’s skills,” the officer explained while dabbing at his bleeding nose with his shirt sleeve. “There is no way that uncoordinated oaf could have fought with your son and won. Let alo
ne a hunting party of four.”

  “Then let him pass,” Chief Hirpus declared.

  As the chariot wheeled by, Alerio saluted the Legion officer.

  “That Legionary is an embarrassment,” commented the Centurion as Alerio rolled through the crossroads. “He’s lucky he isn’t in my command. Imagine letting the Osci show him up like that.”

  “Sir, I was in Messina during last year’s campaign,” one of the cavalrymen said. “His name is Corporal Alerio Sisera. He is a weapons instructor and some kind of a priest.”

  “A priest?”

  “Yes, sir. I watched him train the toughest infantrymen and leave them in the dirt,” the Legion horseman replied. “And I heard him singing for the Goddess Nenia. The infantrymen named him Death Caller. I don’t think the Osci knew how close to death he was.”

  “Let’s keep that between us,” ordered the Legion officer. “Now mount up. Let’s go help Chief Hirpus find his son’s killers.”

  Act 3

  Chapter 9 – Venusia Garrison

  Alerio pulled the team into the one-eighty-mile posthouse. It was deserted and he began to suspect the closed way station wasn’t due to the season, but the Osci. Planting, working fields and herds, and harvesting occupied the tribesmen most of the year. But in the winter, other than hunting, they didn’t have anything to do but harass travelers and the Legionaries stationed in a secluded posthouse. He decided to make the return journey with a troop of cavalry as companions.

  Over the course of the next day’s travel, behind the rhythmic clip clop of the horses, the chariot left the mountains. From the widespread farms of the Osci, Alerio now saw larger Villas for big farms and smaller hovels for the lesser ones. Late in the day, the tops of walls and buildings appeared in the distance.

  Two hundred miles from the Capital, where the Via Appia dipped to farmland and the gently rolling hills of the eastern Republic, Alerio approached the intimidating walls of a Legion fort. Further down the road, the shorter walls and massive buildings of Venusia presented a different type of construction. Older and open in design, the city was as a major trading center. After its conquest almost thirty years ago, the fort was built to defend the region.

  Alerio reined the horses off the road and headed towards the entrance of the Legion stronghold.

  ***

  “Step down and show me your orders,” the Optio at the gatehouse instructed.

  On the practice field, units of Legionaries marched in formation, drilled at training posts, or participated in field exercises.

  “Your garrison is busy,” Alerio commented as he handed over the letter.

  “Between the Samnite, the rebels, and the coast forty miles east of us, we need to be ready,” the Sergeant replied as he read the orders. “We’re here to prevent an invasion force from using the Via Appia to reach the west coast or to put down a revolt. Whichever comes first. Go see the housing NCO in the second building from the stables.”

  “Second building from the stables,” Alerio repeated while he stepped into the chariot.

  As the team moved smartly away from the gate, the duty NCO called out, “Corporal Sisera. Follow the rules and stay out of trouble while you’re in my post.”

  Alerio twisted around to reply. Then, the horses reared up, he was thrown back, and only managed to stay in the chariot by catching a side rail.

  “Merda! I am going to perfututum someone,” a voice growled. “Look at me when I am talking to you, chariot racer.”

  Pulling himself upright, Alerio looked over the horses to see a Centurion standing with his fists on his hips and fire in his eyes.

  “Sir, I apologize,” he said. “I didn’t see you.”

  The officer pointed to a Sergeant watching a Century drilled.

  “Optio. Ask your Legionaries what happens when you don’t pay attention,” the officer instructed.

  The Sergeant called the eighty Legionaries to attention and demanded, “What happens when you don’t pay attention?”

  In one loud voice, the men of the Century replied, “People die. The man on my left dies. The man on my right dies. And I die.”

  Alerio’s heart sank. Apparently, based on the request and the response, he had managed to tangle with the Legion’s weapons instructor. He already knew how this would play out. The ploy was to find a victim for a punishing gladius and shield demonstration. It helped the Legionaries appreciate the finer points of a lesson while saving them bruises.

  After climbing down, Alerio circled the chariot and the horses.

  “Centurion, Corporal Alerio Sisera,” he said while saluting. “Sir, you do not want to do this.”

  With a nasty grin on his lips, the officer ignored Alerio’s plea and faced the Century.

  “The Tesserarius begs for mercy,” he announced, which brought hisses from the Century. “But we are Eastern Legion. Do we have tenderness in our hearts?”

  “No, Centurion,” the original Century replied as well as another who broke from training to watch the show.

  “We are Eastern Legion. Do we offer mercy?”

  “No, Centurion,” the now one hundred sixty Legionaries called back.

  “Corporal Sisera. Dig your gear out of that half wagon,” the Centurion ordered.

  “Sir, I ask you again, please don’t do this,” Alerio begged. “I’ve been on the road too long and have already eaten merda at the hands of an Osci.”

  Again, the Centurion ignored his victim and faced the Centuries.

  “Maybe the Corporal’s courage is stunted from breathing too much horse flatulence,” the officer suggested. Laughter broke out as well as boos. “He rides while infantrymen march. Perhaps, a demonstration of what we do will help him grow a pair of cōleī.”

  Alerio turned from the officer and looked into the faces of the Legionaries. Their insolence at what they supposed was a wagon driver or a cavalryman didn’t bother him. But the arrogance and the disgust they relayed at a young NCO hit him hard. They needed another lesson.

  “I have no armor or gladius,” Alerio informed the Centurion. “But I imagine I can find them quickly. What is your name, sir?”

  “Centurion Holisatri, the weapons instructor for the Eastern Legion,” answered the officer.

  “There will be a lesson this afternoon, Centurion Holisatri,” Alerio assured him. “But not the one you expect.”

  Then, the chariot driver marched to a Century and located a man his size. Before the Legionary could protest, Alerio snatched the man’s gladius from the sheath.

  “Off with the armor,” he ordered. As the Legionary unbuckled his gear, Alerio inspected his gladius. “Who is this man’s squad leader?”

  A Lance Corporal stepped out of the ranks and stomped up to Alerio.

  “Who wants to know?” he barked.

  His gladius as well was pulled quickly from his side. The Lance Corporal reached for it, but the chariot driver shot an elbow into the NCO’s breastplate. He stopped reaching for his weapon while trying to catch his breath.

  “Who are this Legionary’s pivots?” demanded Alerio. “Give me your gladii.”

  Now, Alerio stood holding four Legion weapons. The Century’s Sergeant had enough and raged up to the chariot driver.

  “I don’t know what you think…,” the Century’s NCO began.

  He stopped when the chariot driver shoved four gladii in his face and spread the blades as if they were the ribs of a hand fan. The Sergeant bent sideways to continue his tirade.

  “Rust on the hilt. Rust on the blade. Worn spots on the blade. And this one’s tip has snapped off,” Alerio stated as he tossed each blade to the ground. “What kind of a Century are you running, Optio?”

  The Sergeant stammered and glared at the squad leader.

  “I suggest you get your Tesserarius to free up some funds for a quality metal worker,” Alerio suggested as he expertly fitted the armor to his body. “It seems this squad needs a good grinding.”

  Alerio snatched up two gladii, twirled one in each h
and before dropping one. At the chariot, he pulled down the Legion shield. Then he went and faced the Centurion.

  “You aren’t a wagon driver, are you?” questioned the officer.

  “No, sir. I’m Corporal Alerio Sisera, Legion Raider, and weapons instructor,” he replied. “Shall we get started with the lesson, Centurion Holisatri?”

  ***

  The Corporal followed the Centurion to a spot in front of the Centuries. The officer started to say something, but Alerio ran over to two big Legionaries.

  “Protect the Centurion,” he ordered as he drew his gladius.

  The large men trotted to the Centurion and locked their shields on either side of his.

  “Your enemy is an unknown quantity,” Alerio said as he shifted his shield and bounced his blade on the iron band at the top. “Did anyone study me? My gladius handling or my moves? My ability to quickly put on the armor?”

  “Look here, Corporal,” the Legion officer began.

  “You are in a shield wall, sir,” Alerio shouted. “I am here for a lesson. If you are able, after the demonstration, you can talk.”

  “Then come and face me, you insolent cūlus,” challenged Holisatri.

  As he walked back and forth in front of the three shields, Alerio continued his speech. With each pass, he got closer and closer.

  “The Samnites like to bash. See the scars on this shield,” Alerio explained while waving the shield around for the Legionaries in the Centuries to see the marks left by the Osci Lieutenant. “They also will crowd your shields and come over the top.”

  Alerio jumped forward stopping just out of blade range and mimicked striking over his shield. Holisatri and his two protectors instinctively raised their shields.

  “What I don’t think they do…”

  With his blade held high, he hopped forward. The three raised their shields a little higher. Then Alerio threw his shield to the ground and kicked it under the Legionary’s shield standing to Holisatri’s right. The iron band rammed the ankle of his front leg and he toppled forward. As he fell, Alerio switched hands. With the gladius in his left, he stepped on the bent Legionary and leaped at the Centurion.