The Sword of Jupiter (Imperium #1) - Chapter 8

Seventh Legion & Ninth Legion Camps, South of Devnum

Velius  led Ky towards a much larger tent in the center of the camp, which he  assumed was Velius’s quarters or some sort of meeting area. Inside,  eleven men were gathered, each introduced by name and their position,  none of which made much sense to Ky. He hadn’t considered it yet, since  so far he’d only met the commanders of legions which he’d internalized  to being equal to a regiment in the ground forces of his time, although  without, apparently, the larger command apparatus that he was used to  which existed between field commanders and their Emperor.

Velius  outlined Ky’s plan for them, which didn’t take much time considering the  simplicity of the Seventh Legion’s part in the upcoming battle.

‘Could  you explain how the military operates here?’ Ky asked the AI internally  as Velius began explaining each commander’s responsibilities for the  upcoming battle.

“Not all information on current Roman  military formations is currently available. From reviewed historical  documents, there is a known deviation from the organizational structure  of either second century B.C.E. at the point of the deviation or the  structures from the time period of the early Roman Empire. Extrapolation  from reviewed historical documents suggests Roman organization  structures developed on a new path adapting structures used by other  nations to counter falling Roman manpower and respond to repeated Roman  defeats.”

‘So the structure they have now is unique to this timeline.’

“Correct, Commander.”

“Do you have details of the current structure used in this timeline?”

“Yes, Commander. Enough information on current structures is available to extrapolate.”

‘Then extrapolate.’

“Due  to manpower shortages, the largest field unit currently deployed by the  Romans is the legion. From reviewed records, it appears the legions  rarely work in groups greater than three and normally deploy in singles.  According to the map and documents in the council of war you attended,  the Romans can currently only field five legions. Each legion is  commanded by a legate and reports directly to the Emperor or the senior  legate if the legions are operating collectively. The legion is made up  of nine standard and one reinforced cohorts and led by their senior  centurions. The standard cohorts are made up of six centuries of eighty  men each while the reinforced cohort has five centuries of one-hundred  and sixty men, with each century headed by a centurion. The centuries  are further subdivided into eight-man units called contubernium led by a  decanus. The legion is supplemented by one-hundred and twenty man  cavalry commanded by a centurion and which could be further divided into  groups of thirty, each lead by a decurion.”

‘What about artillery’

“Romans  of this time seem to use artillery only in sieges, a rare occurrence  due to their defensive nature. Each cohort is assigned between one  hundred and five hundred auxiliary troops who are used for tasks ranging  from manual labor to skirmishing to manning artillery pieces as needed.  There seem to be no soldiers dedicated to artillery itself.”

‘So,  let me get this right. They use whoever is the highest-ranking  centurion to lead a cohort, which leaves his century under his second in  command. They have no serious cavalry and no one who’s actually  dedicated to learning field works and artillery.’

“Not  precisely commander. The armies at this time are primarily focused on  heavy infantry with cavalry’s primary role being scouting or as mobile  ranged weapons. Although enough information on artillery in this  timeline is not available, the corresponding artillery in the  originating timeline was limited in quality and functionality and not  primarily used in a field setting. As for command structure, this is  largely correct. With some exceptions in support staff for the legate  such as engineering and clerical specialists, Romans on this timeline  have no concept for staff officers.”

‘That seems like a poor way to run an army.’

The AI had no response to that and Ky let it drop. Velius was winding down his instructions and turned to Ky.

“Ky, anything to add?”

“No,  you covered everything. Just remember you must hold them in place until  the Ninth Legion can strike them. If they break through your lines,  they will be able to turn on the weaker Ninth and wipe it out.”

“Good. Make sure your men have a good night’s sleep. We expect the Carthaginians at some point tomorrow morning.”

“Do you have some well versed in artillery?”

Velius turned to a man whose name Ky didn’t remember with a questioning glance.

“Sepurcius has always been a bit … overzealous when it comes to those damn things.”

“I’ll need to talk to him, next,” Ky said.

“Right. Gordianus, bring your man here. The rest of you, get to it.”

The ten men filed out of the command tent, leaving Velius and Ky along.

“I find your organizational structure very strange.”

“Really?  Even after our displacement by the Carthaginians, Rome is still known  to have the most professional military in the known world.”

“I’m  sorry, Legate, I wasn’t implying your men weren’t professional. I just  know of some other organizational structures that might be more  effective.”

“Again, I’d like to hear about these at some point.  You seem to have a wide range of knowledge we do not. I’d be a fool to  not hear about it.”

“Maybe. Mine is all theory, however. I was a  very different kind of soldier than you or your men, so my theory may  not work in practice. Once this is over, however, I’ll share what I know  and you and your fellow legates can decide what would work best with  your armies.”

Velius gave a rye laugh and looked away.

“What?”

“One  of the reasons Globulus and some of his old guard dislike me is my lack  of respect for the old ways. I’m not sure you’d find many welcome  ears.”

“We can deal with that when we get to it.”

The tent flap opened and a man younger than Velius ducked through. To Ky’s age, he was almost a child and not a soldier.

“Legate?” the young man said, slapping an arm across his chest and keeping his eyes downcast.

“You’re  Favonius Gordianus’s man?” Velius asked, sounding as if he was  harboring some of the same doubts Ky felt when he saw them.

“Yes, Legate,” he said, his voice squeaking.

“This  is a guest of the Princeps who has agreed to help us prepare for  tomorrow’s battle. Gordianus tells me you are familiar with our siege  engines?”

“Yes, Legate.”

“Do you have something that will  hurl clay jugs filled with a liquid roughly a hundred yards and keep the  vessels intact on launch?” Ky asked.

“The onagers would be able to. We made adjustments to them in last season’s campaign to throw containers of Greek fire.”

“All of your shots went on target?”

“One  misfired, and the container fell, catching the crew and equipment  alight, but the rest hit close to their targets. I’ve been working on  modifying my weapon for greater reliability and accuracy.”

“How many of those do you have in your legion?”

“Three.”

“How many in the Ninth and First Legions?”

“As far as I’m aware, the Ninth lost their baggage train in their last conflict. The First has four, my lord.”

Ky  turned to Velius and said, “How much trouble would Globulus give us if  we asked him for his four to be put under a joint command.”

“It shouldn’t be any trouble, Dominous,” Sepurcius answered.

Velius’s eyes narrowed slightly, aware of a context to the statement Ky didn’t understand or perhaps for speaking out of place.

Velius must have chosen to ignore it because he asked, “Why is that soldier?”

“The  Fifth hardly ever uses their equipment. They don’t have anyone assigned  to look after them and most the men are more annoyed having to  transport them. I’ve asked to borrow parts off them a few times, and  they never care.”

“Perhaps it’s best if we let Sepurcius get the  equipment for us, to avoid Globulus suddenly deciding he must have them  because we asked.”

Velius smiled and said, “It seems you have a very good read on the legate. Yes, that’s probably for the best.”

“Sepurcius,  do you have others you know of that you could trust to man these and  follow specific instructions? We also need someone who knows how to mix  chemical compounds.”

“Yes, Dominous, I do.”

“Before I go to  the Ninth, I will put together a series of containers for you. Velius  has your orders on what to do with them, but please be aware firing  short will blind your fellow legionaries and cause serious trouble for  them in the battle. It’s vitally important you hit the targets Velius  gives you.”

“I won’t fail you Dominous.”

“Good,” Velius  said. “Go and get us the siege equipment and any men you need to operate  them effectively. By my order, they are under your command for the  coming battle.”

The young man smiled brightly and slapped a fist to chest again before practically running out of the tent.

“I see the men have heard of your exploits,” Velius said.

“Why do you say that?”

“The  address Dominous is usually one given by slave to master. They wouldn’t  call me or the Princeps that. The only reason a Roman citizen would  call another man that is if he wasn’t just a man.”

“Velius, please don’t buy into the stories Ursinus and Lucilla are sharing. I’m just a soldier.”

“Sure,” the younger man said, clearly not believing a word of it.

Ky  went over a few more ideas for the upcoming battle and left to begin  his journey to the Ninth. Velius assigned a soldier as a guide and for  protection, even though Ky assured him neither was necessary. Before he  left, he talked to one of the camp engineers and found the supplies he  needed to make his special packages for the artillery. That done, he  headed for the Ninth, who had the hardest task for the next day and with  whom he’d be spending the night.

The Ninth was camped a half-mile  away and was, if anything, was much more ramshackle than how the  Seventh Legion had appeared. Many of the men looked to be injured in  some way and their equipment was dirty and well used. He’d been told  they’d only recently returned from a fierce battle that had cost them  their commander and a portion of their legion but seeing it was a  different experience for Ky.

Before his trip through the bridge,  combat was an almost surgical thing, where nanites would repair all but  the most serious injuries and the AI could walk back a person who’d been  rendered unconscious, after a fashion. Walking wounded was not a thing  he was used to experiencing in his time.

Ky tried to keep a  positive expression on his face as they walked through the camp,  realizing from each man’s expression that they’d already begun to hear  stories about him and the silly Sword of Jupiter thing. Even though he  didn’t believe in it, they clearly did, and in a battle where they’d be  heavily outnumbered and hoping on luck as much as talent, morale was  key.

He stopped and talked to some of the men, trying to give as  many as he could a word of support or hope for tomorrow’s battle. It was  only when they hit the medical tent that he lost the calm exterior he’d  been fighting to maintain.

“STOP!” he commanded, grabbing one of the priests before he could place a bandage on a soldier.

“What’s the meaning of …” the man started to say as he turned around, only to stop when he realized who grabbed him.

“Dominous, is everything okay?” Aelius said, looking concerned.

Ky  had already tried to squash the Dominous thing multiple times, but  Aelius wouldn’t stop and seemed almost aghast at the suggestion he  should call Ky by his name.

“They are going to kill these men.”

Several  of the priests in the hospital tent began protesting at once. They were  all very respectful but clearly incensed that their professionalism was  being called into question.

“I watched you pull this stained  wrapping off one man, and you were about to apply it to this other man.  You’re going to cause infections that will very likely kill him.”

‘How  would a bandage cause his ailment to spread? We applied vinegar and  honey to the wound and seal it with the bandages to keep the vapors in  the air away from it.’

“While not as effective as true  antibiotics or even primitive chemical disinfectants, both honey and  vinegar were used to good effect in ancient times to combat bacterial  infections.”

Ky ignored the AI, although once again realized  the software offering unrequested opinions suggested things he would  sooner not think about at the moment.

“The honey and vinegar are  well and good, but if you put a bandage removed from someone else’s  infection and place it on that man’s wound, it will just cancel out  everything you’re doing with the honey and vinegar. The infection  spreads by traveling from one infected region to another.”

“A  Varroite,” one priest said to another, both giving knowing looks. “We  know of Varro’s ideas, but they’ve been widely disproven. We appreciate  your suggestions, but please let us work.”

“I have no idea who Varro is. I do know what you’re doing is wrong.”

“Medico,  perhaps you could consider what he’s saying,” Aelius said. “I heard he  took the Emperor from the brink of death to walking briskly out of his  bedchambers by just placing his hand on the Princeps arm. If he can do  that, I think he’s worth listening to. An avatar of the gods knows how  to heal men’s wounds.”

Everything in Ky made him want to tell  Aelius he had it all wrong, and there was nothing mystical about what  he’d done, but keeping these men from killing more sick soldiers took  priority. The priests looked at each other, considering his words and  almost certainly considering both Ky’s supposedly divine provenance and  his connection to the Emperor. Both religious and more practical  reasoning seemed to have its effect.

“What would you have us do?” the priest asked.

“Any  bandages that touch an open wound must be boiled thoroughly before  being used again. The same with bed cloth, clothing, and any metal tools  that might be used on a patient. Anything the injured man touches  should be boiled and dried away from anything that contains bodily  fluids. Continue to apply the vinegar and honey, but make sure wounds  are cleaned when bandages are changed with water that has also been  fully boiled for several minutes. The boiling will kill the things in  the water or cloth that could cause sickness, making it clean to use.”

“So you do believe what Varro said, that small creatures are what cause wounds to fester and sickness.”

“Partially.  It’s too complicated to go into now, and much of it I don’t think  you’ll believe without proof. I can give you some, but the experiment I  would show you will take time. Time which we don’t have. For now, please  humor me. When we come out victorious tomorrow I will talk to the  Emperor and teach you what I know. All I can tell you, for now, is that  where I come from almost no one dies from wounds like this, most  children are born healthy and live to adulthood, and neither sweating  sicknesses nor the pox plague us. I’m not sure if I can make the same  true for the Roman people, at least not quickly, but I can try to tell  you why we don’t fear these things.”

The priests didn’t say  anything one way or another, but Ky could tell one or two were  listening. While he still didn’t like it, he was thankful that the AI  had flashed the ideas of sweating sickness and pox to him as he was  talking. He would have to look in its databases, but his guess was these  were major concerns for people of this time.

Either way, the  priests were doing what he asked, and large pots were being hauled to  fires outside the tents to begin boiling the water for sterilization.

“Have we heard anything about the city levy that is supposed to be joining us tomorrow?”

“Yes, Dominous …”

“Aelius,  when it’s just the two of us at least, can you try calling me Ky. This  Dominous thing is starting to wear on me. I promise you won’t be struck  by lightning or anything. I wouldn’t ask you if it was going to offend  me.”

“I will try,” he said, but Ky noticed he still didn’t use his name.

“You were saying?”

“Yes.  They will join us at first light. We don’t have the room to have them  camp with us, and since their homes are so near, it seemed a better  solution. I am concerned about their role in this. They are little more  use than an unruly mob.”

“They should be up against the camp  followers and rear guard. All they need to do is catch as much siege  equipment and people as possible and make the road impassable. For that,  an unruly mob is just what we need. We’ll hold a century back to  provide them with security once our trap is sprung. If everything goes  right, anyone coming back to the forest road will be disorganized and  easily captured. If things go wrong, it wouldn’t matter where they would  have been at the end of the day, since all of Devnum will be gone.”

“Then  we should try to keep things from going badly,” Aelius said. “I believe  you said you wanted to get an early start. Let me show you to your  tent.”

Carthaginian Camp, Ten Miles South of Devnum

Zaracas wiped his mouth and waved for the slave to clear the food that remained.

“Excellent,” he said as he watched her picking up plates. “Bring me my wine.”

She  bowed and left with all the scraps she could carry, hurrying to meet  his request. They’d been well trained and knew the consequences of not  meeting their responsibilities.

“My Lord,” a voice said from the tent flap. Looking up, Zaracas could see one of his personal guards holding it open, a dust-covered man standing behind him. “The scout has returned.”

“Send him in,” he said as he reached out and took the cup of wine from the girl.

Zaracas’s  hand shot out, grabbing her as the scout came in, holding her in place.  She froze instantly, looking up from the floor so she could see any  command he would give. Releasing her, he pointed at the floor next to  his table, where she knelt at his command.

Turning his attention to the scout, Zaracas said, “Report.”

“While  we couldn’t get as close as we would have liked, due to the Romans  putting out many more pickets than I’ve seen before, we were able to see  their troops’ camps. It appears to be three legions, although one of  those legions’ camps appeared much smaller than the other two. They have  camped in the plains between the mouth of the forest and Devnum.”

“That  isn’t a surprise. We know some of the Romans escaped that fool Arvad  and warned their soldiers. It doesn’t matter; we have four times that  number in our army. We will sweep them from the field tomorrow.  Continue.”

“We saw no sign that they’ve called up their town levy,  although I believe that is only because they are close to town. As, in  your great wisdom, you said, they almost certainly know we are coming,  so I expect their town levy to be in the field tomorrow.”

“Farmers and cooks. They won’t change anything. No sign of the legions they sent north?”

“No,  my lord. We sent scouts two days ago riding far around the town to  detect if they are marching south, but so far none of the scouts have  reported finding anything. If they are marching to the relief here, they  won’t be here before we can defeat these Romans, and prepare for their  reinforcements.”

“Excellent. I never put as much trust in the  cutpurses and oath breakers that the Governor likes to employ, but for  once they seem to have come through. Of course, I have no doubt we could  defeat all seven legions at once, but the great one has entrusted me  with your lives, and so I must hold to the best strategy to keep this  army as strong as possible. We will attack them at our strongest where  they are weakest.”

The scout genuflected further, his head almost touching the edge of the rug that served as the tent’s floor.

“Your brilliance knows no equal, my lord.”

Zaracas looked pleased at the compliment and went on to his next item, saying, “What about their cavalry?”

“The  first two legions have a full complement. It is unclear on the smaller  legion, as they had cavalry with them, but they just arrived, and have  performed no field maneuvers or training since they set up camp.”

Zaracas  frowned. That was the one area his army was weak. Arvad had taken the  bulk of his cavalry, many of whom had been slaughtered in the marshes  and many more of which were still running or hiding in the countryside. Zaracas had already decided when the Romans were crushed, he would request Maharabaal’s  permission to track down and punish the deserters. Even if the smaller  legion had no cavalry, his mounted force was already outnumbered. He  would need to keep his cavalry deployed in his rear to make sure the  Romans mounted archers didn’t get behind him.

“Fine, Anything else to report?”

“No, my lord. Everything else is what we expected to find from them.”

“Good. Go tell your commander to feed you properly as a reward for your good work.”

“Thank you, my lord. Your generosity is the thing sung of in praise. Thank you, ohh, benevolent leader. Thank you.”

The man kept up his approbation as he repeatedly bowed, walking backward out of the tent. Zaracas ignored him, reaching out to grab the slave girl by the arm and pulling her roughly up to him.

“Now, how should I celebrate tomorrow’s triumph,” he said with a sneer.

Ninth Legion Camp

Ky had slept very little the night before, relying on the nanites  to put him into a short REM sleep and ensure he was rested enough for  the coming day. He’d spent most the night going over the AIs plan,  looking for problem areas.

Unfortunately, there were a lot of  those given the size difference between the two forces. There wasn’t  much they could do at this point. The plan looked good to Ky, but his  tactical experience was limited to fighter command, and he had no  practical experience with ground combat to offer much in the way of  critique. He did have a stray thought that if he was going to stay with  the Romans he was certain to get that type of experience quickly.

Soldiers  standing outside his tent came to attention as he exited. He’d tried to  convince Aelius the night before he didn’t need them, but relented when  the Roman took personal offense to the suggestion. They fell in behind  him and followed Ky to the command tent. He found Aelius already up and  dressed in his armor, his centurions already pulled together.

“How are we coming?” Ky asked as he walked in.

“On schedule Dominous.  The commanders of the Seventh cavalry reported in twenty minutes ago.  The city levy has begun forming up outside the camp, surprisingly most  with their weapons. We’ve only had to arm a few who lost their  equipment.”

“Sold’s more like,” one of the centurions said, which earned him a glare from Aelius.

“What about the Fifth’s cavalry?”

“We have heard nothing from them. I sent a runner to find out what’s keeping them a few moments ago.”

“We’ll  get ready without them. The Carthaginians are starting to break camp,  and we have at least four hours before their units cross the forest  road. We have to be in position before they come out.”

Ky had sent  his drone off to check on the Carthaginians at first light and had a  current feed playing in the corner of his vision. Aelius shared a look  with a man named Lartius, the head of the Seventh Legion’s cavalry, that  Ky had met the previous day.

“You’ll have to trust me that I can see the Carthaginian’s movements.”

“We believe you, Dominous,”  Aelius said, his skeptical tone giving lie to the confident words. “We  will need to take care of the Carthaginian scouts before the Ninth can  move into place.”

“I agree, Legate. Don’t worry; I’ll take care of them. You focus on getting your legion ready to march.”

“How could …” Velius started to say and stopped. “Of course, Dominous.”

Velius  looked fairly unsure but didn’t argue with him, which worked for Ky. He  didn’t want to spend time trying to explain his abilities.

Ky  stopped to borrow a gladius, bow, and a flight of arrows from the  quartermaster. His sidearm wasn’t right for what he needed to do, and he  wanted to save ammo until he absolutely needed it, since there was no  telling what he’d face in the future.

Ky walked out of the camp,  the eyes of the soldiers on him as he walked east away from the army. He  was certain they’d talk amongst themselves about what his leaving  meant, but he wasn’t particularly worried about it. He’d be back with  the army before the main event happened. He’d make sure to move among  the troops, so they knew he was still with them. He still didn’t think  this whole Sword of Jupiter thing was a good idea, but he didn’t seem to  have much choice in the matter. Word had clearly already spread out  among the soldiers, and you couldn’t keep soldiers from talking.

Once  he was far enough out of camp, Ky accelerated, pushing his augmented  muscles hard to cover the ground needed. Considering the size of the  area Carthaginian scouts could be operating in, even using the Infrared  or Thermal settings on the drone wouldn’t have been enough for Ky to be  confident he caught all of them. Thankfully, he didn’t need to find them  alone.

‘Have you identified all enemy targets?’ he asked the AI  as he crossed the ridge that would be a major feature of today’s battle.

“Affirmative commander. Seven Carthaginian scouts have been identified.”

“Assign  the priority of targets by the probability of escape and map on my HUD.  Keep checking for more of them. We can’t let even one get away.”

Ky’s  helmet snapped into place as an array of data began flashing across his  vision. The take from the drone reduced to one corner of the heavily  tinted visor as a map showing his position and those of the seven  Carthaginians he needed to deal with before the Ninth Legion began to  march. A suggested vector connected each of the enemy points together as  the AI continually updated positions and how he should approach them.

The  first wasn’t far from Ky. His golden flight suit altered pattern as it  adjusted into stealth mode, something he hadn’t asked the AI to do. Ky  added it to the growing list of things to be concerned about that he  couldn’t do anything about.

He knew the scouts would be watching  each other’s positions just as much as they were watching the Romans, to  prevent exactly what Ky was trying to do. While Ky didn’t have time to  do this stealthily he wasn’t going to be out in the open either. There  was no way people from this time could comprehend, let alone expect, a  hostile to partially blend into the background. Coupled with the speeds  he’d be moving at, their first instinct would be to dismiss the moving  patch of discoloration as a figment of their imagination. If he did it  right, they wouldn’t know they were in trouble until he was right on top  of them.

The first Carthaginian didn’t see him coming. He’d been  staring intently at the Roman camps when Ky exploded through him, bow in  one hand and sword stabbing forward in the other, his enhanced muscles  lifting the man off the ground in an arc. Ky slowed enough to pull the  blade from the man’s chest and then accelerated again. Partly because Ky  was hard to spot and moving fast and partly because they were focusing  on the Romans, Ky was able to dispatch four more before they started to  notice something was wrong. This was thanks mostly to the fourth man  letting out a scream as he was stabbed. Ky’s blade had gone in at an  angle and missed killing the man instantly or otherwise rendering him  unable to scream as he’d been able to do with the scouts up to that  point.

The sixth sentry somehow picked Ky out of the surrounding  fields and brought up his sword in self-defense. It was a valiant  effort, but it didn’t change the outcome. Ky didn’t even bother  attempting to block the weapon as it slashed down towards him, instead  letting the blade slide off his kinetic shielding as if the man had  tried to cut down steel. The scout eyes widened, and his mouth dropped  in surprise as a blue shimmer appeared as his sword bounced off the  shield. That expression would be locked onto his face forever as Ky’s  sword removed his head from the rest of his body, sending it bouncing  into the tall grass.

The final scout was close to the tree line  and furthest from Ky’s starting point, holding the other scouts’ mounts  as they had crept forward to get a look at the Roman line. He happened  to be looking in Ky’s direction when he decapitated his comrade.  Dropping the other reigns, he jumped on the closest horse and turned to  escape.

Ky stopped running and dropped the sword and brought up  the bow, pulling an arrow out of the rectangular pouch with the  connected belt that he’d attached around his waist. In a single motion,  he pulled the arrow back, following the muscle queues sent to him by the  AI, and aligned the arrow with the provided guide path.

The arrow  flew through the air, and dropped down in a smooth arc, ending exactly  at the point where the arrow’s trajectory met the fleeing scout,  slamming into the man’s back at a downward angle, burying itself almost  to the fletching, the tip just exploding out of his stomach. The impact  sent the man spinning off the side of his horse in a corkscrew motion.  The panicked animal didn’t even seem to notice its falling rider as the  smell of copper hit its nostrils, kicking its flight response into  overdrive.

After he had the AI do one more sweep to confirm all  the Carthaginian scouts were gone, Ky began an easy jog back to the  Roman camp. It occurred to him that while firing the bow, the AI finally  felt in sync with his actions as it was supposed to. He hadn’t realized  it, but he’d started subtly fighting with the computer intelligence for  control in most actions. It was so minimal the struggle had been going  on at a nearly subconscious level. For whatever reason, perhaps because  firing the arrow was closest to his training and experience in fighter  combat, the temporary syncing up of himself and the AI brought the  strangeness that had been bothering him into stark relief.

Now he just had to figure out what he needed to do about it while fighting a battle against massively unbalanced odds.