Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Valencia was snapped back into the present happenings by a window being shattered. A shell had crashed nearby, and the shrapnel had collided with the building. Not fazed by the danger, she walked over to the table, where the men still seemed oblivious to their surroundings. Carefully picking her steps around debris, she stood between the men and gave a mocking salute.

“Gentlemen. The city is being shelled. That means we have less than an hour before the enemy sends troops in. Have you solved the issue of our escape?”

Cassius merely returned to studying the map, along with some new notes he and Caligula took. Even he seemed to be ignoring her, Valencia knew she was part of the conversation now. Caligula, however, made it very clear he was involved and not happy with it. He turned his disheveled head towards his comrade, with a puzzled look upon his face.

“Shelling? What? Oh. Yes. The Empire. They must be mad.”

“Of course they are mad! That's what this entire damned conflict is about!”

Valencia used all of her freewill to refrain from slapping Caligula. As brilliant and powerful on the battlefield he was, Caligula seemed to suffer from some mental...emptiness. Whether it was from drinking, combat, or birth Valencia never knew. She was a little afraid to find out. No matter how he got the issue, though, he was brilliant when he was calm. His current behavior seemed to show the completed opposite of calm.

Caligula started muttering about bees as be began pacing around the room. He stepped over bodies, and even seemed to be conversing with some. At one point, he even slapped a corpse for disagreeing with his opinion that the current bee population was in decline. Caligula continued this odd show until Valencia coughed politely. He snapped out of his trance.

“What? Oh. Right. We have a plan.”

Valencia rubbed her temples with her fingers. She had little patience and little time. Why she had to spend it with a silent soldier and an insane horseman were beyond her understanding. She would have prayed for an answer, had she not forsaken the gods so long ago. There was no room for clouded truths and lies in her heart. No room for foolishness and dreams in her mind.

A shell burst directly in the side of the building. Debris and bricks burst down from the wall, while the gaping hole let the wind and rain in. They were knocked to the ground from the concussion. Caligula was knocked into a pile of bodies. Cassius was flipped back behind the now overturned table. Valencia was buried under the debris with only her boot sticking out. Her muffled screams shook Cassius out of a daze.

“Valencia! Breathe slowly! Caligula, get up and help me dig her out! Move!”

Cassius leaped over the table and rushed over to the pile. Taking out his trenching tool, he began to throw the wreckage off from his companion. The building, being as old as it was, was made up of very loose limestone bricks. This allowed for Cassius to easily remove the rubble off of Valencia. Even though his effort was quick, she still seemed to be in a lot of pain. When he managed to pull her out, Cassius saw that she was had a large gash on her leg, tearing through the trouser from the ankle to the knee.

“Ugh...it hurts. I think my left leg is broken.” Valencia tried to stand up and test this, but collapsed in a fit of pain. Caligula ran over and held her up by throwing her arm around his shoulders.

“Gah! A couple of ribs too, I think. We've got to get out of here!” Valencia managed through pained gasps. Caligula, help her hobble over away from the hole, to shelter her from the wind. Cassius glanced around at the wrecked room, and shook his head in sorrow.

“It cannot be helped now. The city is lost...”

Cassius walked over to the overturned table and picked up his rifle. He walked over to the hole, and stood there with one foot standing on the rubble in the hole. Glancing at the sky he said, “Cali, take Valencia to the docks. I'll make my way to the capitol building and sound the retreat. I'll gather who I can and draw the entry force away.”

“Wait! Can't you tell me how exactly you plan to sound the retreat? The capitol must have been obliterated already.” Valencia managed through clenched teeth. She looked longingly at her friend, hoping he was not running off to die valiantly. No matter how glorious he died, he would still be gone forever.

“Quite simple. I'll make my way north, through the ruins. If the map was correct, we should have a Republican Guard regiment in the capitol district. I've served with the particular one there, and I know some of them still live.”

“And...What of me and Cali? We can't just hobble along in the midst of a bombardment towards the docks! It's a mile away; we'll never make it before the city is overrun.”

Caligula pointed out the window Valencia had previously been looking out. He gestured at the group of soldiers that had been taking the cart. A shell had landed by and killed three of them, along with the old woman. The other two were hiding behind a fallen pillar.

“Those two. We can pay them for a ride, yes?”

Shaking her head, Valencia muttered, “Fine, d****t. Let's just go. And Cassius, be careful. We need you.”

“Of course. I'll see you two very soon. At the docks, in heaven, or in the special hell the Empire reserves for traitors.”

And with that, Cassius climbed out into the pouring rain and trudged off into the now-forming fog. His silhouette could be seen for a few yards, gun in his left hand as he marched into what must be his demise. That would've been the thought, except his friends knew him much better than that.

“Damn Cassius. Always a hero. Come Val. We must leave now.”

“Urrgh, alright. Take it easy, but not too slow. We have to get the ship ready, so Cassius can hurry down when he's ready.”

Caligula scratched his chin with his free hand; Valencia was using his other arm as support.

“When? Not if?”

Valencia chuckled “Yes, when. He says he'll be back, and he will. I was there at Dakar, remember?”

“Of course. How could I forget? It's where you met him, and I met you.”

Caligula adjusted Valencia so she could walk on her good leg and helped her through the hole. They carefully made their way over the loose pile of rubble and out into the rain. Faint cries could be heard from all directions, and the smoke from various fires added to the clouds. They made their slow march in the opposite direction Cassius took, to the southern docks.

When they arrived at the two soldiers, Caligula proceeded to gently set Valencia in the cart bed. This alerted the soldiers, and they jumped up from their cover.

“Hey, that's our ride.”

“Yeah, we've been ordered to fall back, we have. You two are interfering!”

Caligula, finished with loading Valencia, brushed his hair back with his hand, and turned to face the two deserters. He chuckled a little and walked over to one of the dead men.

“Now, this man here, what with his fancy captain bars, doesn't look like he had the time to shout 'duck', let alone tell you guys to fall back.”

The two looked bewildered. One of them sheepishly looked at his feet, while the other just stuttered out, “W-w-w-well...we're just taking initiative, is all.”

Laughing, Caligula sighed. “Now, it seems you don't even have a horse to pull this little cart anyhow. I've got an idea. Take the supplies off your dead friends there, and come with us. I can pull, and you two can cover us if the Empire makes it in.”

Reluctantly, the two agreed. One of them began grabbing the guns, ammunition, and backpacks of the dead. The other asked, “Do you really think we're gonna be overrun, sir?”

Caligula merely picked up the cart handles, and began pulling. Rather than be left alone, the soldier grabbed up his rifle and trotted alongside the cart. He was Dante, an Optio, and his friend was Augustus, an Evocatus Medicus . Neither of them knew it, but they were safeguarding two of the most important people in New Rome.

They passed almost no one. Most civilians were either already at the docks or bunking down in their homes, hoping to wait out the battle. Soldiers were either dead, deserted long ago, or were holding their positions. Caligula hoped that they would be able to buy even a minute or two. The three friends were the last possible governing structure of New Rome. Their evacuation would determine if the Empire won or lost. The odds were not in Caligula's favor. He smiled as they trudged on.

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Valencia was getting tired of her new ship. She had spent the past month trapped in its hull, hating every moment of it. When she wasn't helping to cook food for hundreds of sailors and soldiers, she was cleaning up their messes. The seas near West Africa were normally not so bad as to cause almost everyone on board to lose their lunch, but winter and the wake of dreadnaughts changed that. Even as she sighed, she could see a massive “city-at-sea” sailing a mile ahead of her. She felt sorry for the women cleaning after the thousands of men on that ship.

Dreadnaughts were a special kind of warship. Instead of focusing on simply firing cannons or guns at enemy ships, carrying troops and supplies, or simply intimidating the enemy in the region, Dreadnaughts could manage to do all three, if not more. Designed to carry up to 10,000 personnel, including soldiers and sailors, they were the size of small cities, with millions of square footage, and acres of space. They were not agile, fast, nor pretty, yet they got the job done. The entire ship was controlled by the commanding officers and ranking Noncoms at the central tower; the massive spire placed in the center of the ship. This allowed full view of the ship and surrounding area.

A cry went out, shouting “Land ho! Land ho! Prepare for a rough landing! The enemy is besieging Dakar!”

No sooner than the lookout announced his messaged, the klaxons began wailing and crewmen all across the transport began running to their stations. Valencia jostled her way through crowds of seamen and soldiers, elbowing to get to her own post down in the kitchen. She smirked as she thought, can't fight off the enemy on an empty stomach. Finally, after being bumped and bruised about, Valencia made her way into the kitchen and began to prepare field ration kits.

As she hurried about the crowded room, the head cook stuck his head in from the hall. “Eh, Miss Vale? The Captain requires you in his office, for a minute or two. I'll cover your station.”

The cook pushed into the steaming kitchen, and shooed Valencia out. She sighed and began the shoving-pushing routine again, to make her path all the way up to the captain's officer. What on earth could he want me for, she wondered, maybe I passed my test? As she continued wondering, she was thankful yet again to not be on a Dreadnought. It might have taken hours to reach the central tower, let alone climbed the ladders and staircases. Instead it took her but ten minutes.

She almost knocked on the door, but caught herself just in time. These doors are several inches thick with steel. Not only would they not hear her inside, but she would appear a fool. Not the brightest plan to initiate in front of her most superior officer. Valencia swallowed, and then pushed open the door.

The room was decadent. Even though it was on a rolling, rocking ship the room was immaculate and ornate. A massive oak table stood in the center, covered with a red silk tablecloth with golden thread tassels on each corner. Dozens of sets of crystal glasses and plates were set about the room, and some contained half-eaten food. The carpet was a deep navy blue, and she could feel its softness even through her boots. Valencia received a sudden chill and feeling of dirtiness about her person.

The Captain, wearing his full-dress uniform, blue and red, stood next to the eating table, stroking his white beard and talking to a companion. It was this companion that intrigued Valencia, and made her catch her breath. To her, he was beautiful. The man was young, looked to be just a few years older than her, yet wore the shoulder tassels of a Decurion from the Cavalry, which was reinforced by his black trousers and red jacket. He was well built, and seemed to barely fit inside his jacket, wide chest almost bursting it. His short brown hair was trimmed to perfection, and rested just halfway between his eyebrows and hairline.

The Captain turned and said, “Ah yes, Ms. Valencia. I would like to introduce you to our friend hear in the Cavalry. He’s putting together a special landing force, and needs an excellent helmsman for his vessel. I told him about your history, and your massive intrigue with the ship. Don’t think I haven’t noticed, Miss. He asked to see you. Miss Valencia, this is Decurion Caligula, Commanding Officer of His Caesar’s Cataphracts.”

Of course, upon hearing this, Valencia passed out onto the deep blue carpet.

Reviews

[E. Ryan Miller]

Again, very interesting. I still find the time/era a bit confusing, but that may be just me. Your plot is intriguing and your characters are developing well. Just a thought... Maybe you could try to find smoother transitions between the back story and present story? It would make the reading a bit more natural, I think. I did find one typo. ;) Last paragraph, "hear" should be "here", I believe. (I do the same thing all the time.)