Casca 9: The Sentinel Read online

By the time Casca and Hrolvath reached the entrance to the port, Hrolvath was in full control of his faculties again. He told Casca how he had been lured to the home of the praetor and had to be stopped from making an embarrassing outburst of emotion to Casca for saving him.

  They were met on the docks by Sicarus and three fully armed and armored mercenary squad leaders. It seemed that if Casca hadn't returned within a few more minutes, Sicarus and his entire force were prepared to go after them.

  When he began to question Casca about the events of the evening, Hrolvath gave Casca a pleading look not to disgrace him in front of his comrades and leader. Casca simply shrugged it off and said that Hrolvath had been drugged by someone who said he had information for Sicarus. But he'd taken the boy back before any real harm could be done to him. It was close enough to the truth, and it got Hrolvath off the hook for leaving the dock without permission.

  Sicarus knew that there was more to the story than that, but he was wise enough not to push it any further. He dismissed the squad leaders, sending them back to their men to spread the word that everything was all right.

  Hrolvath, he told to go to his bunk; they would speak in the morning. Hrolvath touched Casca's arm in gratitude as he left to obey. Once they were alone, Sicarus tried to get Casca to tell all the details of what had occurred, but to no avail. Casca just said for him to wait until morning; then he'd know without being told.

  That confused Sicarus, but he decided to wait until the morning to see what it was that Casca had meant about him finding out.

  Returning to his hammock near Hrolvath, Casca lay down for a good night's sleep, content with the way things had turned out. It could have been much worse.

  Casca was woken the next morning by a bellowing coming from Sicarus's direction on the upper deck. Grumbling, he hauled his butt up to the topside, where Sicarus was fuming. The glare of the new day hurt Casca's eyes. He squinted through them, trying to focus on the reddening face of Sicarus.

  "What is it?" he mumbled through thick teeth.

  Sicarus fumed at him. "Do you know what has happened since your return last night?"

  Casca grumbled, "How the hell could I know anything? I've been asleep?"

  Sicarus leaned closer to him, still shouting. "The praetor was found in his garden. His throat had been opened, and two of his personal slaves were standing over him, beating the body with branches. When the vigils questioned them, they said everything was the fault of a scar-faced man who had attacked them and forced them to do the whipping. They claimed they never cut Comelius's throat." Casca said nothing till Sicarus began to laugh. "I was told this by Corneliuis’s deputy, who said the slaves were obviously liars. He had them put to the sword before dawn for their crimes of murder and perversion."

  Sicarus grinned evilly as he continued. "Oh, and by the way, the new commander asked me to extend his personal invitation for you to come to dinner any time you're in the neighborhood."

  Casca joined Sicarus's grin with one of his own, replying smoothly, "Thank the deputy for me, but I think that you will probably have too many things for me to do around the ship for me to have any free time before we leave port."

  Sicarus agreed emphatically. "You can bet your ass you're going to be busy. I think it is best we get loaded and get out of here as soon as possible."

  The new commander of Cyrene, Frontus, was a reasonable man who had for years loathed and detested the perversions of Cornelius Pompeianus. He and his sick harem had received the punishments they deserved. He wished the scar-faced man well, for he had done him a great service, and now he hoped to be confirmed in his new office as soon as word was sent to and returned from Constantinople.

  With his cooperation, the loading of the requested supplies was sped up and the trireme and its escorts were able to take to sea that same night, to everyone's relief. The next stop would be Tripoli and a meeting with their commander in chief, the great Belisarius.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN - Belisarius

  At Tripoli, the ships were offloaded, to the relief of the men and the horses. Here they would stay long enough to give their animals time to regain their strength from the sea journey. Belisarius's army was spread out in a forest of tents. He had only twenty thousand regular soldiers to fight with, against what they estimated would be over a hundred thousand of the Vandals and their allies from the savage tribes of the desert.

  Casca and Sicarus had grown closer during the short trip from Cyrene, and Hrolvath was seldom far away. He and Casca still spent most of their time fencing, but Casca knew that he would never be able to master the delicate techniques that required a younger and more supple wrist to execute properly. He did find ways of countering Hrolvath's flickering sword point with less subtle moves of his own that made him nearly the equal of the young man, but not quite.

  Sicarus chose Hrolvath and Casca for his escort, along with two of his other captains, when he was told to present himself to his general. They found Belisarius by searching for his standard that bore the eagles of the imperial house, set on the highest ground so that all who served him would be constantly reminded that he was there watching over them and sharing their difficulties.

  They were admitted into his tent by a guard from his personal troops. He greeted Sicarus with great affection, wrapping his arms about the mercenary's shoulders, hugging him as he would a long-lost friend. This gave Casca a chance to look over the last of the great leaders of the empire. At first glance, he was not very impressive, being of slight build and medium height with thinning brown hair, cut short. But the eyes were quick and full of lively intelligence and good humor. He had a smile that was infectious, and he welcomed Hrolvath and Casca easily. His movements were sure and certain, the mark of one who knows his mind and has little time for self-doubt. Casca could see why Sicarus had always spoken of him so highly.

  The two leaders immediately went into a huddle after the introduction and greetings were finished. Sicarus asked first why he had chosen this time of year, when the rains were coming to the coasts, to make his attack. Belisarius informed him of his thought on the matter. With the rains due, many of the tribesmen would be busy at home with planting and care of their fields. Many of them would be reluctant to rally to the standards of the Vandals at this time. Casca and Hrolvath sat back, feeling privileged to be permitted to listen to the plans being discussed.

  Most of the soldiers of Belisarius came from the provinces of Armenia, Isauria, Thrace, and Macedonia. Casca listened to the two men talk and learned of the changes that had taken place in the structure of the armies of the world since he had last fought with the forces of the empire. The heavy mounted trooper of the cataphracti was much the same as he had been in the past, whether in Persia or in Byzantium, wearing a steel cap mounted with a small crest and a long chain-mail shirt reaching from the throat to his midthighs. Gauntlets and steel shoes provided the balance of the armor. Over his mail there was usually a surcoat of light material. The soldiers in the front rank were also furnished with steel frontlets and poitrails to provide their horses with some protection in the assault. Their personal arms were a broadsword, a dagger, a short bow with a quiver of arrows, and a long heavy lance with ribbons of the colors on the bearer's surcoat and crest around the head to show which unit the bearer belonged to. The cataphracti, as all others, were organized into bands of four hundred fifty. Three bands made a turma.

  The light cavalry was not as heavily equipped. Sometimes they had chain mail; other times they did not or wore only a light mesh cape that covered the neck and shoulders. Each one carried a large shield, which the heavy troopers did not, as they needed both hands to handle the heavy lance and guide a horse at the same time. The heavier armor had to take the place of a shield. The infantry was also organized into light and heavy categories. The heavy, known as the scutati, were protected by a steel helm and a short chain-mail shirt. The shield was a large oblong thing with the same colors on it as those of their turma or regiment. The principal weapon of the scutati was
a heavy short battle-ax with a bladed front and spiked rear, with a dagger as a backup. They were covered by the light infantry, the psiloi, who were for the most part bowmen and able to use a larger and more powerful bow than the horse archers. This made them very effective against the enemy's horsemen. Some units, not very apt with the use of the bow, relied on javelins. For close work they carried an ax similar to the one of the scutati and a small round shield, or buckler, which hung from a strap at the waist.

  The new armies of the Eastern Empire were small but very well organized. For every four cavalrymen there was a groom. For the infantry, every sixteen men were given an attendant who drove their cart, loaded with their supplies, rations, arms, and, if they were lucky on the way back, plunder. For each band, there were sixty picks and sixty shovels. Casca was relieved to see that the modern army had not lost its appreciation for the tactical values of the shovel.

  This new force even carried with them litter bearers, known as scriboni, to take the wounded from the field. For this they received a nomisa – a small gold coin – for each man they brought in to the surgeons still alive. This novel innovation certainly helped the fighting man's morale. He was impressed with the new formations and the care that was being shown for the welfare of the warriors.

  They learned that they would stay at Tripoli two weeks. Then, in a coordinated thrust, they would attack Carthage by both land and sea. Sicarus was to take his bands and land to the north of the city, to burn and pillage. By this action he would hope to draw off most of the city garrison to chase after them. Once the warriors of the Vandals were out of the city and far into the countryside, the mercenaries would make a large circle and return to join the main force under Belisarius, which would by then be in position to assault the walls. He had with him more than his usual complement of engineers, with their catapults and dart throwers; also, he had the secret weapon of the Byzantines, Greek fire, the composition of which was a most carefully guarded secret. With this, they would be able to throw fireballs over the walls of Carthage and set the city on fire, creating confusion and panic before the first of their men hit the walls with scaling ladders.

  Once the mercenaries had returned, their primary task would be to harass the light cavalry of the Vandals, wearing them out until the heavily armored men and horses of the cataphracti could mass and ride them down.

  Casca and Hrolvath were permitted to leave the two leaders alone to their planning and return to their ships to aid with the transferring of tents and supplies to the shore, where they were set up in an area separate from those of the regular army. Casca agreed that it was wiser to keep them apart, as there was normally little love lost between the higher-paid professionals of the mercenary bands and their contemporaries in the regular forces of the empire.

  Once Sicarus returned to them, he called a meeting of his staff, many of whom had wondered exactly what position Casca would be placed in. Sicarus made him the senior instructor in swordplay and gave him some authority as his aide-de-camp. Casca had to take a couple of the mercenary captains out into the desert and whip their asses to establish his right to his new role. Luckily, they were reasonable men and only wanted to make certain that he was worthy of the honor shown him by Sicarus. Once that was established to everyone's satisfaction, there was no further trouble.

  Although Hrolvath had no match in swordplay, Casca showed him the use of the pike and lance, teaching him how best to use his quick eyes and reflexes to the best advantage. The subject of his experiences at Cyrene was never discussed, but Hrolvath had taken on a new and stronger attachment to the scar-faced Roman.

  During their stay at Tripoli, Casca had an opportunity to watch Belisarius at work. The man was everywhere, overseeing every detail of the forthcoming operation. He did everything he required of his men and usually did it better. Beneath his slight form was a deceptive strength of both body and will. Casca wasn't sure which was the stronger, not that it mattered. Belisarius was an exemplary leader of men and a fine tactician who believed in setting up rehearsals of proposed actions.

  He had a wall built of sand, the height of a man's chest, to represent the walls of Carthage and its gates. For hours his ballistae and catapults were fired in order to learn the best angle to reach over the walls and fall on designated targets inside the city.

  Casca understood the reasons for the man's successes in battle. He always planned ahead. Belisarius would not be caught unprepared by either good fortune or bad luck. Whichever the fates cast in his path, he would be ready for it.

  He sat with Sicarus and Belisarius several times more before they again took ship. Both men and horses were reluctant to leave the security of the land for the wallowing, heaving ships, but they were given no choice in the matter. Bitching and complaining was as normal. They broke their tents to return with ill-humor back into the bowels of the galleys and traders that would carry them to the north of Carthage for what they hoped would be their last sea voyage. Most would have preferred to have ridden or even walked the hundreds of leagues to and from their destinations rather than spend one more hour trying to keep their stomachs from crawling out of their mouths.

  Once clear of Tripoli, the ships of their convoy swung far out to sea, avoiding the coast, where the single-masted warships of the Vandals prowled like sea wolves. When they were between Sicily and the African coast, they turned to the east and made a dead run, timed to reach the shore at the first hour of dark, when their movements would be less likely to be observed by watchers on the coast or ships at sea.

  Anchoring in a small cove twenty miles to the north of Carthage, they remained on board until scouts returned to report that the beaches and cove were deserted. Then, once more, they had to offload their ships. This time there was no pier to make it easier. Equipment had to be rowed ashore in small lighters, and the horses had to be prodded with the points of swords to make them jump from the decks into the sea and swim for the beach.

  It was finished in ten hours, and a secure base camp was laid out. Pickets and trenches were dug in the Roman fashion to provide security for the four hundred fifty men of the mercenary force. It would be the next day before the animals were settled enough to be of any real use. Before the camp was secured, the ships were already back out into the water, anxious to use the remaining hour of darkness to conceal themselves from the Vandal warships.

  In the morning, new patrols where mounted. This time they were sent out to scour the countryside. These, Sicarus had dressed in the costumes of the nomadic tribesmen of the region, hoping they wouldn't attract any attention or curiosity if they were seen. They had orders to avoid any contact with the populace. If they were approached, they were to run away, hoping that those who saw them would think them to be no more than Bedouins, who were not of an inclination to meet with strangers. That would not be an uncommon occurrence. Nomads were historically loners and not given to any more commerce with those outside their tribes than was absolutely necessary.

  The riders began to return at varying intervals. Each had been sent out to different regions of varying distances. As they returned, they were questioned closely by Sicarus as to what they had seen. When the last of the scouts returned, he called together the captains of his bands to go over their plans.

  Taking a map from a case, he pointed out their position and the location of known enemy garrisons and cities. From their place on the coast, they would be able to keep the forces of Hippo Regia tied up with the defense of their own city and prevent them from sending any reinforcements to the aid of Carthage when Belisarius moved on the city.

  Belisarius had given Sicarus a free hand in the conduct of his harassing raids, with only general provisions that had to meet in accordance with his timetable of operations.

  Several of the captains wanted to split their forces to cover more terrain. This was vetoed by Sicarus, who flatly refused to split up his small force where they could be more easily cut up.

  No, they would make a strong single raid toward Hippo Regia,
burning and pillaging all the way. He wanted his men to spread out, giving the impression that there were thousands of them instead of the six hundred fifty of his reinforced bands. If they took civilians as prisoners, they were to let them go, but only after making certain they'd left the impression that thousands of warriors were on their way to attack Hippo Regia. By this ruse, he hoped the Vandals in Hippo Regia would keep to their walls, leaving them free to turn around and make a run for Carthage.

  Before they pulled out, stockpiles of food and weapons were buried in the sands of the beaches. If they were successful and were able to make the ride back, they would have to replenish their stores.

  Casca stayed close to Sicarus, and Hrolvath stayed close to Casca. They found little resistance as they moved across the fields of the African coast. Flames and smoke marked their passage as the fields were set to the torch. Non-combatants were not hurt physically if it could be avoided, but all were left thinking that a major force, numbering tens of thousands, was on the move, heading north. They drove the peasants before them, herding them to the walls of Hippo Regia. The Vandals believed the stories of the number of the Byzantine forces. Their own patrols had met with no success when they were sent out to reconnoiter. Most never came back, and those which did swore they had been outnumbered by at least twenty to one. The Vandals would not leave their city walls. Instead, they had sent by ship a cry for help to Carthage, asking them to send aid immediately, for they were in great danger of being overrun by the massive armies attacking them.

  Once Sicarus was certain that his ruse was working, he turned his men around for the ride to the south. They had come within ten miles of Hippo Regia and now had nearly a hundred and thirty miles to cross before they would come in sight of Carthage. During their ride to the north, Casca had not once crossed swords with a Vandal. He did kill a couple of nomads who'd stumbled accidentally into the path of Sicarus. If they had just ridden on, they would have been left alone. But one had panicked and had tried to draw his bow for a shot at Sicarus. Casca was no more than forty feet from them and to their rear. He took both of them with easy casts from the javelins he carried in a quiver tied to the saddle of his horse.