Steam Legion (4 page)

The Zealots, had they been led by experienced men, should have pushed the advantage and fallen upon the retreating forces of the scattered Garrison. Warriors though they may have been, however, most were not soldiers. They had invaded on the power of their faith, not their mastery of martial skills and techniques. When the Roman soldiers turned their backs to the Zealots, the warriors of God cheered and immediately returned to following the guidelines written in their holy book. As had been ordered in the past, so they would do now, and around them, the city of Alexandria continued to burn.

In the center of the city, where the Great Library stood, Dyna’s small cadre of Legionnaires was wrestling the large bronze tubes into place along the walls surrounding the Campus. Designed more to keep the sound of the city’s hustle and bustle at bay than an invading army, the walls were a poor substitute for proper fortifications, but they would have to serve.

“What are these blasted things, anyway?” one of the Pedes grunted out as he roughly manhandled the heavy piece into place, open maw of the tube pointing out over the city.

“Something the dreamers came up with, no doubt,” another answered, not caring.

Life in the Legion was simple enough, in his book. Someone told you what to do and you went out and did it. He didn’t have the head for a Centurion’s life, nor the stomach, if he were honest with himself. As a Pedes, he may find himself fighting, but most times it was just about digging ditches, planting stakes, and generally preparing a camp for defense and rest.

Anything else was the domain of the higher ups.

“They need to dream up something a little Tartarus-blasted lighter then,” the first grumbled, shaking his head. “They said mount it like a scorpion, so I think that does it. Don’t look like no scorpion I ever used.”

“I expect Cassius or the Lady will be by to tell us what’s what in short order.”

The first grunted, leering slightly. “Some Lady, that one. I hear all the Roman nobles spend vacations in Sparta to, heh, ‘see the sights.’ Guess we know what the sights are, eh?”

“Are you simple in the head?” the second hissed. “Didn’t you see what she did? She butchered armed men at the wrong side of seven to one odds. Don’t go making cracks like that.”

“What is she going to do?” The first rolled his eyes. “We’re Legionnaires of Rome, not some temple-loving farmers with delusions of adequacy.”

“She,” a soft voice sounded from behind them, startling the two, “will simply execute you and pay the fine to the Emperor if you disrespect her any further.”

They turned slowly to see Dyna standing behind them, Cassius a half pace to her rear, shaking his head.

“Yes, my Lady,” the second stammered out quickly, half bowing as he backed away.

She ignored him, eyes boring into the lout who had spoken his mind a little too clearly. “Sparta may now be considered a remnant of the past, a place for curious nobles to visit so they might watch our training and the abominations that now pass for our way of life, but I am a noble of Rome nonetheless. Insult me again, Pedes, and I will leave your blood cooling on the ground while I replace you with something less aggravating. Clear?”

He nodded furiously. “Clear.”

“Good.” Her tone changed, the matter apparently settled. “Once the cannons are in place, you will need to stoke the boilers quickly. Send a runner to fetch fuel from the workshop.”

“Cannon, my Lady? Boilers?”

“These are Master Heron’s re-creations of Archimedes of Syracuse’s steam cannon. I’ll show you how to operate them shortly, but get the boilers heated quickly. Time is a luxury we do not have in abundance.”

“Yes, my Lady!”

“My Lady.” Cassius looked to another point.

Dyna followed his gaze and recognized the first trickle of men appearing along the lanes leading to the University. Some were in armor, some rags and tatters, but they were welcome whether they be Legionnaires, free men, or slaves. She had work for each, of that there was no doubt.

“Get them squared away, Cassius,” she ordered. “Armor for those who have none and need it, tools for the rest. The Zealots of Jerusalem will not be far behind.”

Cassius saluted, slapping his fist over his chest. “At your command.”

Dyna nodded slowly, watching him as he left. Though he had been following her orders and suggestions, it was the first time he acknowledged them as such. She was one of the few nobles in Alexandria trained for military command, but her recognition from the Empire was a far cry from firm. He could have refused her orders, let the Library burn, but Cassius was an old acquaintance and a common visitor to her family’s lands in Sparta. She knew he was taking a chance; her orders were legal, as such, but also easily assailed. As a noble, if they failed, she would probably not bear the brunt of any repercussions. The Centurion who followed her into failure, however, was not so exempt.

By officially acknowledging her orders in front of members of his Cohort, Cassius was making a statement and taking a terrible risk. If things went wrong, or even if they went right, he could be called to task for surrendering authority to her despite her technical standing within the Empire.

Dyna closed her eyes for a moment, centering herself as best she could. She would not worry about that tonight. There would be time enough come morning or later still for such things. For now, there were barbarians inside the city walls, and there was work to be done.

****

Cassius met the first group at the gates, directing those of the Garrison to the master smith’s shop for arms and armor as needed, the rest to the command of his sub-alterns for assignment. They only had minutes, at best, before the Zealot forces made it this far into the city, and that meant they had a lot of work to do to prepare.

For the Legion, battle was the rarest of events. Most of their lives were all about digging, building, and other sundry involved in establishing a camp. Palisades were first thing Cassius set them to erecting, every spare hand first tearing down nearby buildings, carts, anything that had materials they could use, while most of the rest dug holes to plant the posts.

The record for establishing a preliminary camp in the middle of nowhere was a little under six hours, which, while a remarkably short time, was far longer than they had. Cassius set them to the gates around the University and Library Campus, tasked the smarter ones with commanding the rest, and tried to get choke points covered and enforced as quickly as he could.

He only had a partial squad under his command that he knew and trusted in a fight. Most of the rest were local militia, slaves, and citizens. They were the ones who had already survived their first encounter with the enemy, so there was that in their favor. A man who lived through his first battle automatically became far, far more likely to survive through his career in the Legion. With luck, Cassius hoped, that meant that he had proven survivors under his command this time.

Or under the Lady’s command.

He was going to catch Hades from his superiors over taking orders from her, he was certain of that. The Legion had a passing respect for Roman Senators and nobles, but legalities aside, the respect in the Legion for the Spartans was low. The small section of Greece the Lady hailed from was currently a popular location for vacationing nobles from Rome, men and women looking to wallow in the victories of the past.

Cassius had met the Lady there, on his first tour with the Twenty-Second Deiotariana Legion. He’d been a courier, sent to retrieve the Legatus of his division from where he was…engaging with the locals. Cassius had been rather disgusted by how far the Spartans had fallen, given the legendary status they held in the esteem of so many.

He’d been ordered to wait for the Legatus to be finished with his…distractions, then return with the man to Alexandria. He had little choice, but neither did he have the stomach to be waiting in the pleasure baths for the Legatus to complete his
training
with the young Spartan boys. So for the next few days, he had wandered the area, getting to know a few of the locals who weren’t part of the Roman touring trade, and eventually he’d stumbled into the Agiad lands.

The Agiad line were Spartan royalty traced back directly to the Icon himself, King Leonidas. Dyna could trace her line to the man’s second wife, a woman he’d taken into his home when his first could not seem to bear his children. Her line had become secondary when the first wife, Gorgo, finally conceived and gave birth to a son. Most believed that there was no second line, since Leonidas had dearly loved his first wife, but there was, in fact, a child born to the second wife. They’d lived quietly, as far as the Agiad could, he supposed, and to this day farmed the family lands and practiced the true culture of their forefathers rather than the bastardized version that had come to exist through most of the Spartan lands.

Until that day, Cassius had always believed Legion training to be brutal. Watching a twelve-year-old girl endure ten times worse was something a blow to his ego.

He hadn’t spent a long time in the Spartan lands then, but he had gotten to know a few people, including many of the Agiad house. For all their innate distaste for Rome, they held the Legion in some esteem…warriors to warriors. So he was less surprised than he might have been when, several years later, a courier brought him a request from them, asking that he check on and offer aide to Dyna as she settled in to her studies in Alexandria.

Not that she needed it, in his opinion. That was one lady who was tougher at twelve than most men he’d met ever achieved in their entire lives. He just showed her around, occasionally grabbed some men from the Legion to help her move one of her projects for Master Heron, and generally played the family friend when and how he could.

He’d know she was accomplished in martial activities, from fighting to running, but had never quite realized just how deep it ran. Cassius supposed that he never really believed she had the killer instinct of a warrior, not until he’d found her covered in the blood of her enemies, sword in hand.

A fell warrior, this one. She’ll make her line proud, as I’m certain her ancestors already are.

****

While Cassius was working to bolster the defensive line, the object of his thoughts was returning to the line of cannons to find that the people she’d left with what she believed to be clear instructions had managed to mess them up.

“No!” she growled, lashing out with a sandaled foot and kicking the heavy brass boiler over. The big container hit the ground hard, water splashing out the inset pipe. “I said stoke the flames, not fill the boilers!”

The Pedes jumped back from the scalding water, glaring at her. “What else were we to do? Heating the water was to save us time!”

“Do
not
think!” she snarled. “Leave that to people with minds capable of the act.” She spat on the ground between them. “Empty the pots, keep the flames stoked. Then reconnect the pots to the cannons, empty, and return them to the fire.”

“But that will melt the brass!”

“You have experience with brass boilers?”

“Some,” the Pedes admitted.

“Good, you’re in charge.” Dyna smiled nastily. “Keep the fires as hot as you can without damaging the pots. Destroy those pots, and I’ll be owing the Empire a fine. Do we comprehend one another?”

The young Legionnaire nodded, pale and pasty, her earlier comment still ringing in the air between them. “Yes, my Lady.”

“Good. Now, you two.” She pointed. “With me and I’ll show you how to arm these weapons.”

She led the pair around to the front of the weapons. “First, roll one of the stone plugs down the bore.” They hefted a ten-pound ball and let it roll down the bore of the barrel, the hollow thunk of it hitting bottom making Dyna smile. She then gestured to the thick bored holes. “Load the projectiles down the bore.”

They looked to the stack of thick bolts on the ground, and one of them picked one up. It was a thick wooden shaft with a heavy iron-bladed head. When she gestured for him to continue, he loaded it into the bore with the blade pointed out, as seemed correct.

“Another,” she said.

“At once?”

“It can take five in one load,” Dyna confirmed. “Go ahead, finish the load.”

The man put four more into the bore of the weapon before she was satisfied.

Dyna patted his shoulder. “Very good. When the water is dropped into the boiler, the steam will push the stone and bolts out with great force.”

“As easy as that?” he asked curiously.

“Not quite,” she admitted, holding up a rough-hewn board. “This is the secret Archimedes hid from us for so long.”

“A board?”

“Precisely,” she said, turning the board over to show that it had a deep notch cut down the center of it. “Specifically, a board with this cut in it.”

“Excellent,” he told her sarcastically. “A worthless board. You can’t even build a foot bridge with this now.”

“Once the weapon is loaded,” Dyna said, ignoring the sarcasm, “drop one of these into place over the front.”

The board fit into a pair of braces, sealing the front of the weapon.

“Without this to increase the force of the steam, the bolts will have no power,” she told him. “Now it is loaded. Go prepare the others, now.”

They only hesitated briefly before they headed on to the next cannon to repeat what she’d shown them. Dyna watched as they went to work on the next one, making sure they weren’t being stupid, then returned to the boilers. The men had again stoked the flames and set the now-empty pots on them to heat.

“Good. Now, fill those secondary pots with water and move the carriages into place,” she ordered. “Keep the flames hot, but watch the pots. Do
not
let them melt.”

She walked the line, directing each step of preparing the weapons for use. They were far from ideal, she knew; each was a little different and required careful attention for best, or even safe, use. Honestly, she would have much preferred a dozen scorpions instead of the steam cannons, despite the fact that the cannons had far more power.