Daniel Ottalini - Antioch Burns

“I think I’ve got something that may help. It’s out in my wagon,” he said in a slurred voice. His bushy beard trickled drops of liquid as he rose to his feet. He lurched by Regillus and Faristes, motioning for them to follow. Nose wrinkling at the smell wafting from the man, Regillus nevertheless followed him out through a side door into the stables. We need every sword holder we can get. The man was already digging through the back of his wagon, pushing through boxes and haphazardly stacked piles of machinery. Finally, he pulled a long, rectangular box from the wagon.

“Come here and help me lift this thing,” he ordered.

The two younger men grabbed opposite sides of the box. It was surprisingly heavy, and the men grunted as they carried it out into the courtyard.

“Set it down, set it down! You boys are just too slow!” He nagged them. Ignoring the man’s protestations, Faristes and Regillus carefully placed the box down in the center of the courtyard. The bearded stranger pushed them out of the way, prying open the lid and setting to work assembling various pieces of metal machinery. Regillus left the man to his work.

“You think whatever it is will actually be helpful?” Faristes asked.

“Not sure. But in the meantime, let's get you equipped.” Regillus went over to where the Romans had laid out their dead. He said a small prayer and began removing armor from the deceased.

“Sir!” one of his men called to him. “Mongols on the street, coming this way! They’ve got some sort of battering ram!” Cursing, Regillus left Faristes to his own devices. He slammed his helmet back onto his head as he ran, fumbling with his repeater.

“Stall them as best you can! Everyone else, to the gate!” Regillus called. His shouts awakened the resting members of his detachment. They scrambled to join him, leaving their blankets and camp rolls along the edge of the walls. Regillus gathered his small party before the barricaded entryway.

“If they break in, try to hold them here. If we can keep our formation, we have a chance of victory.” Faristes joined them. Regillus nodded to him. “Legion Second Rank Faristes will be joining us for the battle, as will our mysterious engineer friend over there. Let’s try and keep the horsemen off him, perhaps his contraption will win us the battle.” Shouts and screams could now be heard over the walls. The Roman defenders were methodically shooting, ducking, reloading, and firing again over the walls. Regillus could practically see the short bolts stabbing through whatever protection the lightly armored Mongolians had to offer.

The barricade shivered as the first blow from the battering ram slammed into it. Debris scattered everywhere.

“Ready men, use your repeaters. That gate is a choke point! Target and kill them all. If they get too close, switch to your spatha . And remember, stay in formation!” Regillus ordered. The infantry formations might be awkward for them, but it could save our lives. He hoped.

The battering ram struck again. The wagon nearly tipped backwards this time, leaning forward again only at the last second. The sounds of battle spread along the perimeter, as the Mongols stretched the defenders thin.

“Got it!” the old man cried out behind them. At that moment the barricade collapsed inward as the attackers pushed in. Splinters and debris shot outwards, banging off of helmets and shields.

“Whatever it is, use it!” Regillus cried out as he leveled his repeater. “Fire!” he shouted. The repeater bolts shot out, chopping down Mongolians as they picked their way through the barricade remains. The Romans kept up a constant fire, but the Mongolians finally managed to force their way in, using the cover of night and the dead bodies of their compatriots as cover. Chanting war cries, the Mongolians charged over the open ground.

“Swords!” Regillus called as he tossed aside his repeater and drew his spatha . A sizzling sound came from behind them, then the world lit up. Harsh white light blinded the attackers as something incredibly brilliant shot into the air. The Mongolians paused, covering their eyes and crying out in pain.

“Quickly! While they are distracted!” Regillus yelled, charging into the disoriented barbarians. He hacked and chopped, his sword ignoring the quilted cloth armor of the barbarians. Behind him, his pitifully small party of men joined him, spreading panic and chaos among the attackers. Slow to react, the Mongolians were cut down where they stood. Only a few turned to run, but they too were unable to escape. The one-sided charge turned the tide. Along the wall, the sounds of battle diminished as different posts reported their attackers fleeing into the night.

“Roma!” Regillus screamed in celebration as his men recovered the gate. Around him, his men cheered him.

“Reg-il-lus. REG-IL–LUS!”

Regillus soaked in the praise for a minute or two, before motioning his men to calm down.

“Let's get this barricade back together men. I don’t think Antioch will be able to ignore that .” He left his men to rebuild the barricade, and walked back over to the strange old man who had helped engineer such an abrupt turn of fate.

“Thank you. You truly saved us back there.” The man shook his head and proffered a canteen.

“Victory drink?” he mumbled. Regillus grasped the canteen and took a swill of the liquid. Harsh and strong, it burned his throat and filled his belly with fire. He gasped.

“My own special brew.” The man smiled at him. “Engineer Crius Monventus. Formerly of the Western Air Fleet, before that, the Central and Southern Air Fleets. Now, I’m just looking for a chance to join the Eastern Air Fleet.”

Regillus introduced himself as well. The men shook hands.

“Why don’t you stay on with us for a while? I know that the IV Syrian could definitely use a man of your talents.” Monventus shrugged.

“Might as well. It certainly beats starving.”

“What was that back there? That light was brighter than the sun!”

“A phosphorous flare. Perhaps you’ve heard of my other recent invention, the igniculum ?” Regillus shook his head. “Well, it contains a special chemical that can burn extremely bright and hot for a short period of time. I turned it into a projectile for some of our legions. But it is too dangerous to carry around a lot of it, and in my…disagreement with the Western Air Fleet’s leadership, I was only able to take this small amount.” He gestured to the crate at his feet.

“So, do you think that light has gotten Antioch’s attention?”

“Young man, if it didn’t, I’d think that every guard in Antioch is blind.”

Sure enough, the next morning, a relief column of heavy cataphractii rode into Janeria, drawn by the mysterious light in the sky. While impressed with the valiant defense of Regillus’ auxilia unit, they were even more impressed by the creation of Engineer Monventus. Wasting no time at all, the exhausted unit and its civilian charges were hustled back to Antioch.

“How bad is it, sir?” Regillus asked the commanding officer of the cataphract detachment.

“Bad. We’ve no word from any of the river defenses, and only brief communication with some of the river cities. It looks like the Mongolians took them all within a few days of each other, and managed to sabotage the wireless and wired transmitters somehow. It’s a miracle your message reached us. We thought you were dead.”

The heavily armored knight paused for a moment.

“Of course, we may all be dead in the next few days.”

“That imbecile of a governor can take his fancy orders and shove them where the sun does not shine,” growled Legate General Orestus Lucretus Flavian as he prowled the command tent of the IV Syrian. Around him, the assembled officers of the IV Syrian stood ramrod straight, their backs stiff at attention.