Steam Legion (16 page)

The assembled Centurions saluted. Even if they didn’t agree, they would accept his decision for the moment.

“So, get your men ready. Tomorrow we go to war.”

****

“Via!” Dyna cast about, annoyed as she found herself unable to locate the armor she had worn that night that seemed so long ago now.

She wasn’t looking forward to strapping her breasts down inside that portable metal tomb again; her tender flesh still cringed at the memory of the pinches inherent in moving around while strapped into improperly fitted armor.

“Yes, my Lady Dyna?” Via said as she appeared from somewhere, honestly Dyna wasn’t sure where.

“Where is my armor?”

“This way, my Lady.” Via bowed her head, gesturing to the next room.

Dyna frowned but followed the slave into the room where Via stepped up to a large cabinet and pulled open the double doors. Dyna’s breath caught as she spotted the armor she had worn, yet clearly not. It had been reshaped, in places clearly re-forged, and was amazingly now intended for the female form.

“When?” she asked, confused.

Via shrugged. “I had your measurements available, my Lady. At first I left the piece, uncertain as to whether you would wear it again. However, you have since made it clear that you would join the men in the field, so I contacted Master Isthene. He was pleased to have his masterwork used as it was intended.”

The lithe slave smiled slightly. “Even if it meant adding bulges to the chest.”

Dyna snorted softly. Master Isthene was well-known for his appreciation of the female form, despite his mastery of arms and armor, and had created several statues to various Goddesses that were considered to be of the highest quality. Adding breasts to his previous armor smithing would hardly be a disappointment for the man.

She casually untied and dropped her stola to the floor, where it puddled at her feet. She stepped out of the fabric, allowing Via to gather it up and set it aside. The armor was as light as she remembered, perhaps even lighter, and so after she had put on the soft under-tunic, she lifted the mottled armor over her shoulders and let it settle.

“Hold still, my Lady,” Via said, helping shift the armor into place and beginning to tighten the laces. “Breathe out.”

Dyna did, grunting as the laces were pulled tight and tied up.

“And now in.”

Her lungs filled, and the pressure of the armor increased on her chest, but Dyna was pleased and honestly a little surprised that she didn’t feel more of a pinch on her breasts as it did. She twisted and moved, checking the range of motion, and was pleased to note that it felt more natural than any armor she had ever worn, even the old leather suit she wore as a child on occasion.

“Perfect,” she breathed, smiling.

“As you say, my Lady,” Via said from behind her. “Your weapons?”

Dyna accepted a clean steel gladius from her, hefting the balance of the superior weapon in her hand. It was, again, nearly perfect, but there was something that caused her to frown.

“My Lady?”

“This will not do,” Dyna said finally, handing the sword back.

“This was the finest gladius in the armory,” Via answered, confused.

“I can tell, Via,” Dyna smiled. “We don’t make them out of steel for the Legion, far too costly. No, the quality is not my problem. Help me finish getting dressed and I will explain.”

Via was clearly confused, but fetched the greaves to strap onto Dyna’s lower legs.

“My father, his father, and many times down through the line would have had me killed as an infant if they thought that I might someday have the audacity to stand in a phalanx, Via,” Dyna explained as the armor was tightened and set. “And they would be right to do so.”

“I don’t understand,” Via said, working mechanically. She had helped dress many men before they left to command their Legions, and the motions were very familiar to her fingers.

“Every member of the phalanx is equal, Via,” Dyna said, helping hold the greave in place. “There is no room for either a superior officer, nor a weak link. I am both.”

Via didn’t say anything, but it was clear that she didn’t understand from the look on her face.

Dyna just smiled as she got to her feet, the greaves strapped into place. “I won’t be standing in the Phalanx, Via, so I will draw a weapon more suited to my needs.”

“Yes, my Lady.” Via decided just to fall back on her trusted responses, given that she had no idea why the sword she had brought would be unsuitable.

Dyna examined herself in the polished bronze of her mirror, nodding with satisfaction. “Excellent. Come along, Via. Let us pay Master Isthene a visit.”

Via cheered visibly, apparently quite happy to return to the familiar territory of responding to a clear order.

“Of course, my Lady.”

****

The Great Library of Alexandria was one of five similar locations across the Empire and the known world. It was more than a repository of knowledge, it was a living campus dedicated to learning and development. Master Heron was the current Master of the facility, his name known across the Empire as one of the most brilliant minds of the generation, but he was not the only genius in Alexandria, and not even the only infamous one.

Master Isthene was one of the world’s premier metalworkers and had been located in the Library’s sister facility in Rome until a few years earlier. The Emperor’s largess had reduced significantly since Caligula’s death, and Alexandria had access to significant metalworking scrolls that had been unavailable in Rome. Rome’s loss was their gain.

The Master was a man of his late thirties, built like a stone wall from the waist up; he had earned every bulge in his massive frame by way of swinging his hammers and shaping metal for some of the wealthiest patrons of the Empire. Dyna could see as she walked in that he was working on a blade, his current passion by all accounts, and didn’t say anything while he hammered the steel into shape.

Steel was a new material for most of the Empire, expensive and hard to properly forge, but growing in popularity in the circles Dyna traveled in. Adding charcoal to the blade during the forging process gave a much harder and more resilient blade and, as with her armor, charcoal from Tamil provided for startlingly improved results. The Library alone had eight forges that burned full time with men assigned to trying different mixes of materials in order to determine the best formula for various uses.

Isthene turned to them when he was done, eyeing her up briefly before his gaze dropped to the sword carried by Via behind her.

“My blade not to your standards?” he asked, a hint of a smile the only thing that told her he wasn’t actually taking offense.

“I’m not to the standards of your blade,” she assured him in response. “The gladius is best used from the line of battle, and I am not fit to stand shoulder to shoulder in the phalanx.”

Isthene grunted but nodded in understanding.

The phalanx was like a chain, only so strong as the weakest link, and more than that, it required strength of a very specific type. A woman as slight as Dyna could not shoulder the weight she would be expected to handle, and pressure on her position could collapse the line in a worst-case scenario. The gladius was specifically designed to be thrust out from behind the shield line; it was short and nimble, but not a particularly good cutting edge for the sort of slashing you might need to save your life if you were caught without some room to move.

Isthene pointed to the far wall. “Take your pick. There’s nothing there I would not trust with my own life.”

“Thank you.” Dyna bowed her head to the Master before she walked over to the wall and examined the various weapons Isthene had displayed as examples of his craft.

There were weapons there from all corners of the Empire, and some from beyond the borders of Rome. She was at least somewhat familiar with all of them, having studied most forms of known martial skill in at least a passing manner, but most were far enough out of her comfort zone as to be immediately set aside.

It really only came to two, in her opinion.

The first, and her preference, in all honestly, was a Spartan spatha that was mounted high on the wall. There were only two issues with the classic blade of her lineage: first, it was a softer bronze blade, and second, it was too large and heavy for her to comfortably wield.

The second blade was also from her homeland of Greece, but it was the blade preferred by her current home city’s namesake, Alexander. The falcata on the wall wasn’t a re-creation, however. It was one of Isthene’s masterworks. Dyna grimaced ruefully, shaking her head, but closed her hand around the hilt of a blade made famous by a man who had certainly been no friend to either Sparta or her line.

A good blade is a good blade,
she decided as she tested its balance, gliding the spine of the blade along her upper arm as she eyed the edge, and finally nodded firmly to herself, satisfied.

“Good choice,” Isthene rumbled, eyeing up the blade in her hand for a moment. “If you live, bring it back and I will tailor it to you. The blade deserves a master who’ll use it, or a mistress, as the case may be.”

“If I live,” Dyna said with a half wry smile, “it will likely be due to the blade as it sits. I’ll not change it unless there is a real problem.”

“Suit yourself,” the big smith said, his voice not displaying any opinion on the matter but his eye gleaming with a slight glint of approval.

Dyna dropped the blade into her belt loop, leaving it to hang against the leather skirt of her armor before she gestured respectfully to the Master Smith. “My thanks for your help, Master Isthene.”

The big man paused, then nodded as he picked up his hammer.

“May Vulcan bless your arms and armor…” he said before considering for a long moment and finally adding, “Mistress Dyna.”

Dyna froze where she stood, eyes falling back automatically to the man who was already turning away from her to heft his hammer and return to work. She forced herself to breathe, not saying a word as she mechanically stepped out of the forge and into the open air. She was so caught up in her own shocked thoughts that she didn’t notice the beatific smile on Via’s face as the slave paced quietly behind her.

****

“Centurion, signal from Laska’s group.”

Cassius looked up and nodded, gesturing for Aelia to relax a moment while he finished the last few strokes to sharpen his blade and then slid the gladius back into the scabbard. “Go on.”

“Zealots have laid siege to Zinzu.”

Cassius scowled, considering that information. Zinzu was a small township to the southwest, hardly worth the effort of laying siege to, but the Zealots weren’t typical conquering soldiers. They were sowing dissent, trying to draw out the Empire and spread the Legion thin. They seemed to be unaware that the Tenth wasn’t in range to spread itself thin, having been called out to deal with more serious problems closer to the center of the rebellion.

Or perhaps they were very much aware and this was a deliberate strategy to cause as much trouble as possible. It was impossible to say at this point.

“What else were they able to communicate?”

“Signals are slow,” Aelia admitted. “However, they report a double Century of enemy men with light and medium siege weapons.”

“Then the township won’t hold long.”

“No, Centurion, they will not.”

“Thank you. Go back to the Pharos,” Cassius ordered. “I want my best signalman close by in case of new reports.”

Aelia slapped his fist over his chest and bowed his head briefly before he backed out and returned to his post at the Great Pharos. Behind him, Cassius found himself in the possession of information that would normally have him chomping to push his Century forward to engage the enemy.

However, now he was faced with the sure knowledge that he didn’t even have enough men to protect the city he was stationed in, let alone lead an armed excursion to repel the Zealot marauder forces plaguing the area.

The real problem was, of course, that he didn’t expect Dyna to offer him any choice in the matter.

Cassius sighed and summoned a runner.

“Yes, Centurion?”

“Are the men ready to march?”

“Yes, Centurion.”

“We march for Zinzu at sunrise. Inform the men,” Cassius ordered.

The runner saluted, fist over chest, and retreated from the Garrison’s administrative offices to relay the order to the Auxiliary forces that had been assembling in Alexandria over the past few days. Cassius himself wished he was as enthusiastic as the men he was commanding. They were still flush from repulsing the enemy some weeks earlier, and he had little doubt that many of them felt immortal.

Whether they were or not wasn’t really what concerned him, though. Fighting the Zealots would hardly overstress a reasonable contingent of Legionnaires, but that wasn’t what he had. He had Auxiliaries, mostly Light Infantry with some Cavalry and siege experts. Even for all that, Cassius didn’t foresee significant trouble with handling the Zealot forces in the immediate area. The Israelites were passionate, he would credit them with that much, but if they’d been good fighters, they wouldn’t have waited this long to rebel.

No, the real issue was that, no matter what direction he marched his men from Alexandria, they would be leaving another path open for the enemy forces to walk right in and finish the job they’d begun some weeks past.

Treading that argument, however, would simply be re-walking a path that Dyna had already clearly stepped on. She was determined, and for better or worse he had submitted to her technical command. Reversing his decision now would be as bad as following her orders and failing. Before he had accepted her technical authority, he could have easily stated to the Senate and his superiors that he wasn’t willing to hand control over a civilian, no matter how qualified.

It was horse crap, but the subtext would be clear. No one would step on him for refusing to hand command over to a woman. At most, he’d have received a small fine and maybe be sent off to another duty station. Having accepted her authority, however, it became a new game. Turning on her now would be tantamount to rebellion against the Senate, and no matter her gender, there was no way that the Legion or the Senate would let him get away with that.