Insurrection in the Legions by Mark Richards

Author:Mark Richards [Richards, Mark]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Mark Richards
Published: 2021-11-07T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER XIII

V alerius, along with Hereca, was heading toward the camp’s sole exit when he heard a sound, like an overly ripe melon hitting the earth, followed by a strangled cry. He came abreast of a group of legionaries, several wiping their eyes. He saw a figure lying on the ground amid a spreading dark pool of blood. A man wiped his bloody gladius on his cloak. Valerius realized he had just stumbled upon a mercy killing. He stopped, staring at the huddled men. “I’m sorry for the loss of your friend. What was his name?”

The man’s voice was shaky. “Thank you, Sir. His name was Antonius. He was from Ravenna. He was a good mate. He was in bad shape plus much agony and would have died sometime during the night. We shall miss him terribly.”

“Well, listen up,” Valerius said. “I will do everything in my power to ensure his sacrifice is not in vain. His death will be avenged. We are going to make the people responsible for his death pay a terribly heavy price. Once again, my sympathies.”

The men nodded. “Thank you, Sir,” one of the legionaries replied. “We will make someone pay for this. Despite our fatigue, our anger burns bright. You can count on the men of the Fifth.”

Valerius and Hereca continued onward. There was one small sector of the camp’s perimeter that had no ditch. That was the single, narrow entrance, heavily fortified with wooden stakes driven into the ground. It was only wide enough for two abreast to exit at a time. A work party toiled quietly in the night, filling in the trench on either side so that the entrance would be widened. The plan was to exit the camp quickly in a compact formation so that they would be beyond the sentries and pickets of the surrounding force and into the open countryside before Mellitus’s forces could react and stop them.

Valerius watched as the men shoveled the dirt from the spoil back into the ditch. He glanced up from the men’s labor to scan beyond the ramparts. Watch fires had been lit by their foe at various intervals around their fort about three hundred paces distant. Judging from the glow, the fires had diminished as the night wore on. Those on watch were not stoking the fires as vigorously, because they either were too tired or did not have enough wood gathered to fuel the blaze. It would be a fool’s errand to attempt to scrounge wood in the dead of night. They should be able to stealthily approach so that they are close to the enemy pickets before the alarm is sounded, slip through the lines, and not have to engage in a pitched battle.

The last of the spoil was heaved into place and patted down. The men began forming up by century in a compact mass, six men abreast. Valerius and Hereca would stay within the protection of the first century. Once through the lines, they would take the lead into the interior of the Frisian territory, north away from the river.

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