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Authors: Evan Currie

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The river delta of the Nile was one of the richest areas of the Empire, and certainly the richest land of the region. If they didn’t check the invaders’ forces quickly, the rampage they could begin would be legendary.

The Twenty-Second Deiotariana Legion quickened its pace, knowing that it would take days to run down the enemy forces, but every hour they left them unchallenged, the people they had been levied to defend would be dying.

****

“Scout reports the enemy’s main position is almost eighty milestones from here,” Aelia reported, his eyes glancing between Cassius and Dyna.

They, in turn, glanced at each other before nodding in silent agreement.

“Movements?”

“Coming this way, currently moving about four to six milestones per day.”

Cassius couldn’t help but shake his head in wonder.

“Currently?” he said, his voice a little dumbfounded.

“Yes, Centurion,” Aelia grinned. “That report is accurate as of twenty minutes ago.”

Dyna was smiling widely as she looked over the map, tracing her finger along the coastal road.

“The question is, where do we meet them?” she asked, examining the possibilities.

Knowing where the enemy was, and their precise direction and movement rate while they were still so far out, had given them a tremendous strategic advantage. They could literally choose their battlefield and thus force the enemy to face them on terrain that gave up tactical advantage.

“I presume you don’t want to meet them from within city walls?” Cassius asked dryly, already knowing the answer.

“No. If we lock ourselves within
impenetrable
walls,” she said with a sardonic lilt in her voice, “then we give up mobility to the enemy. The territory here is too large to defend from a single point. We’ll have to meet them and destroy them in the field.”

Cassius sighed but knew it made sense. Honestly, he was growing too old for this sort of campaigning. He’d done his time, years earlier, and had been quite happy to accept the sub-command of a nice city Garrison like Alexandria. It should have been a peaceful assignment, had this mess not broken out.

That said, she had a point.

“Alright.” He pointed. “We catch them here, at the river crossing.”

“Oh?” Dyna examined the map.

She’d never been that far to the east, having arrived in Alexandria by sea, and so didn’t know the exact layout of the region but could make a fair guess at his reasons.

“Yes,” Cassius said. “I’ll wager they’re planning on crossing the bridge here, and with as many men as they have, that won’t be a simple matter. We can beat them to it and get your siege forces set up well in advance. That should leave you free to savage them as they try to cross.”

“Won’t they turn back?”

“No, they’ll divert this way.” He traced a finger down the river. “About two, three hundred yards. The river widens here, and they can ford it on foot.”

“So you want our main force waiting to ambush them?”

Cassius nodded automatically, but grimaced as he realized that would put Dyna and her rather valuable Immune forces at a higher degree of risk than he would prefer. “No, we can situate in between the two points. We’ll have time to move either way if they choose to bull through—”

“Cassius.” Her voice was cool but chiding. “Do not coddle me or treat with me as a fool. We do not have enough force to cover both, am I correct?”

He sighed, but had to agree. “Yes, my Lady. I was thinking of leaving our main force here, where the river widens into the shallows. However, I want to point out that this plan is not without its risks. They may choose to bull through at the bridge, and if that happens…”

“My forces and I will die as my ancestors did at Thermopylae,” she finished simply. “I can imagine many worse ways to die, Cassius.”

“I believe some of your siege Immunes may disagree with you on that,” he countered, some heat coming into his voice.

“I do not intend to set out to die in a blaze of glory, Cassius,” Dyna returned, her voice cooling as his heated. “We’ll devise our blockade so as to be sufficient as to turn them aside and into your waiting forces.”

Cassius sighed, but finally gave in. Sometimes you just had to take chances when you went into battle. In this case, the main issue was that they didn’t have enough forces to cover both likely crossing points. If they focused all their forces at the bridge, the enemy would simply bypass them and be mostly across the shallower portion of the river before they could shift to counter them. That meant they needed to leave a smaller force at the bridge, but one with enough power to make the enemy move as they wanted them to.

If they decided to punch through the bridge, Dyna and her forces would be wiped out. However, even in that scenario, Cassius suspected that her smaller force would be able to significantly maul the enemy enough to all but cripple them. He didn’t like it, but it was the best strategy they had.

“Alright,” he nodded. “Let us be about it, then.”

Dyna smiled, her eyes glinting just a little too eagerly for his liking, but Cassius put that aside. He couldn’t do anything about it anyway.

“We march at dawn’s break,” Dyna ordered.

“As you will it, my Lady.” Cassius saluted.

****

Plumes of black smoke filled the sky behind them as the Zealot forces marched away from the burning fields, already reforming into marching order from the minor distraction the brief bit of pillaging offered them.

“Get the stragglers back into line,” the Commander ordered coldly as they rode. “We don’t have time to indulge their base instincts. Not yet.”

“Yes, Commander.”

The Adjutant wheeled his horse and headed back to relay the order, leaving the Commander alone toward the front of the line as the majority of the group continued to move along. He deplored the need to slow his march in the way he had, pillaging the local townships and burning the fields behind them. However, while he had significant forces, he lacked the logistical supply lines to keep them properly supplied.

Everything he and his comrades did had to be done with the knowledge that the Roman Legions were certain to cut off their supplies in short order, restricting them from most methods of resupply. That meant that, in the short term, they had to pillage the local townships of supplies in order to stay mobile and active. Unfortunately, doing that slowed them down significantly, and he had no doubt that fleeing farmers would shortly arrive at the closest town and runners would then be sent on to warn the larger walled cities like Alexandria.

At least we have a few days before they can get messages passed all around,
he supposed.
By that time, we should have cut through several more townships and be almost upon Alexandria.

The port at Alexandria was the next key piece in destroying Roman control over the region, at least long enough to levy sufficient forces so that they could secure Judea for themselves. There were two primary ports in the region, and they now controlled the one at Caesarea, which left only Alexandria to bring under control or destroy.

His mission was no less than strangling Rome’s supply lines just as much as they would soon be strangling his own. The race was to see who managed to succeed the fastest, a race that, as far as he could tell, he was winning. The damnable thing was that he couldn’t be sure.

He sighed, snapping his fingers until one of his aides ran up beside the slowly walking horse and handed him a map. He opened it up as he rode, tracing the route with his finger. “Two days to the bridge.”

He hummed slightly to himself, then quickly rolled the map back up and handed it off to his aide.

He’d feel much more confident once they were on the other side of that river, with nothing but fat Romans and farmland between them and Alexandria itself.

The column marched on, their feet beating a rhythmic staccato sound as they made their way along the Roman-built road toward their goal. Ahead lay the harbor of the second wealthiest city in all the Empire and, with it, control of the entire region.

Chapter 19

When the chariot slowly jerked to a stop, mostly by being steered off the rocky road and into the softer sides where it rattled off stones and was finally mired down in the dirt, Dyna groaned and happily jumped clear. Heron’s genius was beyond imagining, but she was convinced that he’d only come up with the device once he was too old to be expected to ride on it for a reason.

As she slowly moved and stretched out her pained muscles, she looked up ruefully to where Craftsman Sensus was grinning down at her.

“We need to make this more comfortable to ride,” she said with a rueful chuckle.

“That,” he said, “and a better way of stopping would not go amiss either.”

She nodded, conceding the point, then forced herself upright and let out a breath she hadn’t been aware she’d been holding. The large stone bridge that spanned the river was just ahead of them, and they had a great deal of work to do in a short time.

“Alright,” she ordered, calling over one of the Legionnaires she had assigned to her group. “I want the cannons set up along either side of the road. Make certain you have good lines of sight on the bridge proper. While the Immunes are getting those set up, I want the Pedes to gather brush to hide the cannons from sight.”

He nodded. “It will be done.”

“In the meantime”—she sent a pointed look to Sensus—“the Craftsman and I will be setting up Master Heron’s
special
gift.”

The Legionnaire saluted and headed off to pass on the orders to the others while Dyna and Sensus made their way to the last chariot in the column towed by the automated device. They unlatched it from the chain and, with the help of some of the slaves they’d brought, got the chariot manhandled down to the bridge.

“How long do you suppose we have, my Lady?” Sensus asked, wiping sweat from his brow.

The sun was beating down on them, turning even the lightest work into a task of not insignificant proportions, but that was barely noted by any of them as they felt the pressure of knowing that just behind the stonework bridge there was an enemy force approaching.

“Best guess?” Dyna shrugged. “They’ll be here sometime tomorrow.”

He nodded, clearing the cover from the top of the cart to reveal four figures in iron Lorica Laminata armor lying head to toe in alternating positions. Beneath those four, on a second layer, was another group of four in identical armor.

“I can’t believe Master Heron did this.” Dyna shook her head as she ran her hand over the polished armor.

Unlike the Spartan automatons they had used as part of the ambush back in Alexandria, Heron had truly created something fit for the Gods this time, in her eyes. He had done away with the unwieldy ropes and pulleys used to puppet the armor around, instead using a fantastic array of gears and cords on the inside to control the new models.

They were dressed in Roman-era armor, she saw, but that was most likely to save time, since Spartan armor would have to be custom-made and he didn’t have time to waste. She was amazed that he had managed to get as much done as he had in the few weeks since the attack and said as much as they slid the boards the automatons were resting on out, tilting them down to put the first four into standing positions on either side of the cart.

“With Master Heron holding the whip hand,” Sensus chuckled in amusement, “I believe that the entire city was prepared to dance to his tune. Even many of the Jewish community joined us, Dyna. They were no more pleased with the riots than any of us.”

“No,” she sighed. “No, I suppose they would not be.”

It was not an easy admission for her, if she were honest with herself. The clashes between the Israelite people and the Greeks were legendary, with blood spilt many times in many battles over the last centuries and more. She had worked with many of them in Alexandria, however, and grudgingly accepted that they were as dedicated to the advancement of knowledge as she was. More so, in many cases.

That was neither here nor there, however, not while they had an army bearing down on them and so very much work to do in order to get ready.

The new automatons were designed to be powered by a steam engine instead of the complex array of weights and ropes, and since they only had one engine available, they quickly set the eight figures into place on the bridge, four with swords and polished bronze hoplite shields to the front and four with spears to the back. Once that was done, Sensus carefully guided the automatic chariot into place behind them so they could connect the drive mechanism.

“Four abreast won’t cover the whole bridge.” Dyna frowned as they completed the last connections. “Not even spaced to allow for the spearmen.” She looked back behind them and waved. “Bring two of the cannons here! I want them on either side of the automaton formation.”

Rolling those massive slabs of wood and bronze was more work than putting the automatons into place, but it was done with relative dispatch while Dyna checked the angles to ensure that they had complementary angles to create an ideal kill zone.

“Load them now,” she said. “We won’t want to be too close when we loose them the first time, I suspect.”

“Who’ll man them?” one of the Immunes asked, more than a little nervous.

It was quite clear to them that those two cannons would be right on the front line of the battle, and certainly in the most danger even if the line wasn’t overrun.

Dyna looked to them briefly, then to the few men nearby. “I need four of you for these positions. Speak among yourselves if you like, but by tomorrow I
will
have those four.”

They shifted nervously, but nodded in understanding.

“Thirty-two Legionnaires and myself will be here to defend this position,” she went on. “You will not stand alone with the automatons.”

Several breathed clear sighs of relief, though others grew seemingly more nervous.

“You, my Lady?” one ventured tentatively.

Sensus was now looking as nervous as the youngest of the Immunes. “My Lady, you cannot be here on this line—”

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