Steam Legion (17 page)

Of course, there was also the fact that he didn’t want to turn on her either. He’d watched Dyna grow up, knew her capabilities, and trusted her. She was a better administrator and planner than he was, and very nearly his equal with a sword and shield. She was more fit to command than him, he was an honest enough man to admit it. He commanded a Century; had she been born a boy, he would not have been surprised to see her command a Legion.

So, there wasn’t really a decision to be made. He packed up his scrollwork and sealed everything back into the Garrison office’s desk, then made his way out of the Garrison and headed for the Library.

Chapter 13

The smoke of the battlefield slowly blew clear as Tribunus Gordian propped his foot up on a toppled chariot, leaning on his knee as he looked over the bodies and burning field. The smell of naptha fought with the stench of burning flesh, filling his nose with a smell he had long since come to associate with victory.

Only in victory did he smell that peculiar combination, because that was the only time he could slow down and take in the environment he was in. Had he been defeated, he would be too busy trying to keep his men organized as they fell back from the field to concern himself with the smell.

Today, however, had been an easy win. The enemy forces were composed mostly of Zealot and conscripted Infantry, which were about as useful against the Legion as the rain was against the burning mountain at Pompei. He had served the Legion since his twelfth summer and was now looking on to his thirty-first, and in all that time Gordian had never seen an Infantry force that could match the Legion in field combat.

If they do not learn quickly, this rebellion will be shorter than Janusi worries,
he thought as he watched the cleanup underway by his men.

The bodies had to be dragged into piles and searched for anything of value, of course, so that they could be burned. He had no time for burials, even if he were so inclined towards enemies of the Empire, but could not leave hundreds of corpses here to rot and unleash sickness on the local area. Some of the weapons and gear would replace those lost by the Legion during the assault, but most of it was near as worthless as the soldiers who had been wielding them, so he didn’t count on much value being added there.

There were few enough ways to beat the Legion, but the most common was bringing in Cavalry. He knew this from hard experience, being on the wrong end of a Cavalry charge on more than one occasion. It was why Gordian had four Cavalry units as part of his Auxiliaries, and six Centuries worth of Light Infantry equipped primarily to defeat a charge. This time, however, none of that had been needed.

I hope your God rewards bravery and doesn’t punish foolishness,
he thought as he pushed off the broken chariot and walked the field, eyes on the bodies of the dead.

A runner was coming in his direction, so Gordian pushed his melancholy thoughts from his mind and focused on the arriving soldier. A quick exchange of salutes, followed by a handed off message, and the runner was off again with something for someone else. Gordian opened the scroll and read it briefly, eyes narrowing as he backtracked and read it all again with more care.

Well, that makes things easier.
He rolled the scroll up and made his way back to where the command tent was already being set up in anticipation of his arrival.

He returned the gesture to the men who saluted as he passed, waving casually as he focused on the Adjutant who was already setting up the work desk inside.

“Tribunus!”

“Relax,” Gordian ordered, tossing the scroll to the desk as he walked around and took a seat behind it. “Send out a runner to call in the Centurions, then return here.”

“Yes, Tribunus,” Lacitus replied automatically before he run out.

Gordian took a fresh sheaf of parchment and a pen, dipping the nib in the inkwell that was precisely where he liked it to be, and began to write. He was still writing when Lacitus returned and stood at attention, waiting for his response. Gordian left him as he was for a few moments while he finished the scroll, then looked up expectantly.

“Message sent out, Tribunus.”

Gordian nodded but didn’t say anything about that. He’d expected no less.

“We’ll break camp in the morning,” he announced.

“Yes, Tribunus, for Jerusalem?” Lacitus questioned, sounding surprised that the Tribunus had felt the need to reiterate his plans when they were already expecting and preparing for the march.

“No, we have orders from the Senate,” Gordian said. “Uprisings along the coast take priority. We have to move south and secure the trade routes.”

“In other words, some merchants have bought our services from the Senate.”

Gordian smiled ruefully but nodded. “Most likely. Still, that will put the Tenth back within a few days’ march of where it should be, and I don’t believe we’ll have much trouble if we’re
inadvertently
diverted to some of the townships our mercantile benefactors have less interest in.”

“And Jerusalem?”

“Apparently, the city is of less interest at the moment, compared to the mercantile routes,” Gordian answered. “We’ll probably have to clean up the major trade routes before they’ll leave us to lay siege to Jerusalem and end this idiocy.”

He sighed, but wasn’t really surprised. There was a lot of gold tied up in the trade routes, and leaving marauding bands of Zealots and their conscripts around to wreak havoc on those routes was one way guaranteed to incite further discord across the Empire.

And,
he supposed,
there is also the military wisdom of not leaving any forces at your back while you’re preparing to deal with an enemy to the front.

No, on the whole he was just as happy with the new orders. He’d be able to leverage them into getting most of what he wanted to accomplish completed, and he wouldn’t have to risk his career to do it.

And the longer the Legatus stays in Rome, or whatever pleasure bath he’s currently patronizing, the better for me and the Tenth.

For the immediate future, however, he had a lot of work to complete and very little time to do it all in.

Such was life in the Legion.

****

Dyna and Cassius had led their forces from the walls of Alexandria in the mid-morning as planned, and by nightfall they were camped near one of the first signal hills to the southeast and being debriefed by the scouts they had sent off in that direction.

“The Zealot forces have continued to batter the township’s defenses,” the scout informed them. “Most of the population surrounding the area has drawn back inside the town walls, but many were caught outside in the initial attack. We’ve tried to determine how many were killed, but it’s impossible at this time. We likely won’t know until we eliminate the Zealot forces and can do a census.”

“Like as not, we’ll never know the full damages.” Dyna shook her head. “Too much chaos, too little order. Still, that isn’t our immediate concern. Do you have details on their troop disposition?”

“Yes, my Lady,” the scout confirmed, pointing out positions on the planning map they’d set up in the command tent. “They have siege forces arrayed along the eastern wall, with Infantry and Cavalry guarding them. Their remaining forces have ringed the town, in order to prevent any escapes.”

“No quarter, then.”

“None, my Lady.” The scout shook his head. “They have been pelting the town with fire canister since two days past. The smoke in the town has by times been so thick as to hide the walls entirely.”

“They intend to wage the war according to their holy writ, then,” Cassius said calmly, too calm, as his voice grew cold.

“Pardon?” the scout asked, confused.

“Their writ is quite clear on how they should deal with towns populated by those who do not believe in their God,” Cassius said, lips curling in annoyance. “To the sword and to the flame.”

“Are you certain, Cassius?” Dyna asked, unbelieving. “That’s hardly an intelligent way to wage war.”

“Agreed, and honestly, they wouldn’t be doing it if they had any chance of victory, I would wager,” he admitted. “Like most people, their adherence to holy writ has more to do with practicality than faith once it has been worn down to the bare stone. However, there is no way they can win this little rebellion, and I suspect strongly that their leadership knows it.”

“So they’ll inflict the worst they can
while
they can, is that it?”

“That would be my estimate, yes, my Lady,” Cassius confirmed.

“Insanity,” she whispered, almost unable to believe it.

Those sorts of actions would just force Rome to react even harsher than it might and would most certainly bring down the full vicious might of Roman justice, not only on the Zealots, but on anyone even peripherally involved in their outrages. It was a strategy no sane mind would come up with, especially not when executing it meant going against the most powerful military force in the known world.

“There is a reason, my Lady,” Cassius said, his voice still cold as he glared at the map before them, “that bad things happen when the leadership of a people begins to believe that they are a little
too
connected to the Gods. Remember Caligula.”

Dyna grimaced but nodded almost painfully as she acceded to the point. Roman tradition was that the Emperor was at least peripherally related to divinity, but it wasn’t stressed much until the man was safely dead, as a rule

Hades’s sake, I am hardly one to talk,
she supposed.
I can trace my line directly back to Heracles himself, and most believe him to be godly today, even though our own traditions only hold him to be a Hero of old.

Again, however, the view of the general populace said that, while that connection may entitle one to rule, it didn’t precisely make one infallible. Caligula had believed that it did, and like most who usurped the Gods’ will, he came to a bad end.

So too will these Zealots,
she determined darkly.
Would that I could reserve the greatest tortures for their lunatic leaders, but I fear that would only drive the rest into even deeper levels of insanity.

It was likely a moot point at any rate. She didn’t expect them to surrender peaceably to the Legion when the time came. If you knew what was coming for you, you would have to be insane to hand yourself over to Rome after you had committed such atrocities.

Of course, since their sanity is clearly suspect anyway, who am I to say? They just may be stupid enough to offer themselves up as martyrs, like those of their so-called Christian splinter sect have begun to do.

“We’ll bring our forces around from the south,” she said, tracing a map on the path, “well away from their perimeter guards. I want to move our siege forces into place on this hill overlooking the township. That should give us a defensible location from which to hammer their own siege teams.”

Cassius frowned as he focused, tapping the map in turn. “If we bring our Century around the hill from here, they won’t see us coming until it’s too late. The Cavalry can then circle from the other side to cut them off and force them into the Legion’s shield wall.”

“Good,” she confirmed, “We’ll rest some hours, but have the men ready to move after nightfall. I want to be in position and rested by morning’s light.”

Cassius saluted confidently before he stepped out to deliver the orders.

Dyna stared at the map for a long time, lost deep in…thought? No, it was more than that. She could feel the distant drums of battle calling up the blood, hear the horns blow to summon her forward. She was terrified in that moment.

Oh, not of the battle to come. No, she was terrified of her eagerness to join with it. She had never felt that for anything else in her entire life. Not the boys she had played with before coming to Alexandria, not the men she had toyed with since. Not even the work she had made her life’s ambition called to her on such a deep, visceral level.

I will not be lost in the bloodlust. That would be a disgrace to my line and a failure to the men I am commanding.

She forcibly pulled herself back until the thrum of the drums was a distant sensation, still present but no longer as alluring. She would remain in control, and she would not fail her line or her men. She got up and stepped outside, taking a breath of the cooling air as she calmed her blood.

Tomorrow.

Yes, she promised herself, tomorrow there would be plenty of time and ways to indulge herself without betraying those who had confidence in her.

****

They marched through the night, a job made all the harder by the weight of the cannons they dragged with them. Mules and horses took up most of the work, of course, but the wheels were narrow and tended to get stuck if they drifted off the stone roadway even slightly, slowing everything down. Dyna eyed the rocking, bouncing chariots as they were pulled out of the soft side for the fifth time since the march began and mentally continued to make notes on what she could do to correct the problem.

She wasn’t so concerned over the chariots, of course, but was still thinking more about the self-motivated chariot design she had inherited from Master Heron. Even having left Sensus working on the project, she was still looking for the best way to make the device practical.

Larger wheels, perhaps,
she considered idly,
wider too. They won’t sink as easily then, but if I do that, the whole Hades-blasted thing would be near impossible to steer.

It was an annoying situation, like being caught between Scylla and Charybdis. Too much to one side and the first would gnaw on her bones, move to the other and she’d drown in the maelstrom. Larger wheels would keep the chariot from sinking into softer ground, it was true, but they would also increase the force needed to move the chariot significantly and make steering considerably more difficult.

Perhaps what I need is a better method of steering, then?

Her mind was awash in diagrams and concepts while they marched, the mental exercise helping Dyna push down the rising sound of distant drums that filled her ears as they got closer to their destination and her heart rate continued to climb.