* * *
Two minutes later, the battle was joined in earnest. As it unfolded, Gaius followed the action with a running commentary for the benefit of the Fourth-of-Five, explaining the methods and principles of Roman tactics. The warchief was an attentive student. A very knowledgeable one, too, who asked many pointed and well-aimed questions. His own people had never been slouches, when it came to warfare; and now, hidden miles away in a forest camp, the warchief’s own native legion had already begun its training.
Commander Tambo watched some of the battle, but not much. He was a naval officer, after all, for whom the tactics of iron-age land warfare were of largely academic interest. He was much more concerned with keeping a careful eye on the ECM monitors. By allowing the natives to follow the battle with the help of modern technology, the humans were breaking the letter of Federation law.
The spirit of that law, of course, they were trampling underfoot with hobnailed boots.
Ainsley simply watched the battle. Quite transfixed, he was; oblivious to everything else.
Ironically, his interest was purely academic. But it was the monomaniacal interest of a man who had spent all but the last few years of his adult life studying something which he was now able to see unfold before his own eyes. A Roman legion in action.
A purist, of course, would have been outraged.
Such a purist, in his own way, was the legion’s expert consultant and field trainer, the former centurion Clodius Afer. Throughout the course of the battle, Clodius Afer danced back and forth between the viewscreen and the far wall, to whose unfeeling stones he wailed his black despair.
Roman legion, indeed!
Smiling, Ainsley leaned over and whispered to Gaius: “Is the rumor true? Did Clodius Afer really call Colonel Tsiang a `slant-eyed bastard’?”
Gaius grinned, though his eyes never left the screen. He was keeping a close watch on the legate commanding the legion, in order to provide him with expert consultation after the battle.
That legate was a former colonel in the Chinese Army. Of the ten tribunes commanding the legion’s cohorts, four were Chinese, three North American, one German, one South African and one Pakistani. True, there was one Italian centurion, and three Italian file-closers. But the overall national and racial composition of the legion was a fair reflection of modern Earth’s demographics, except that it was skewed toward Chinese and North Americans. This, for the simple reason that all the legionnaires were former soldiers, and only the North Americans and Chinese still maintained relatively large standing armies.
“Oh, yes,” murmured Gaius. “Fortunately, Tsiang’s a phlegmatic kind of guy. Good thing for Clodius. The colonel has a black belt in at least five of the martial arts.”
He turned his head. “You might want to watch this, Clodius Afer! They’re getting ready for the first volley of javelins!”
Two seconds later, the former centurion’s face was almost pressed to the screen. “They’ll screw it up,” he groaned. “Damned amateurs think they’re throwing darts in a tavern.”
Silence ensued, for a few seconds. Then:
Gaius grinned. Clodius Afer scowled and stalked off. Robert Ainsley hissed, face pale.
“God in Heaven,” he whispered shakily. “I had no idea.”
The former tribune’s grin faded. “A good javelin volley is like the scythe of death, Robert. It’s pure butchery.”
“Was this one good?”
“As good as you’ll ever see. I knew it would be.”
Ainsley studied Gaius for a moment.
“You’ve never shared Clodius Afer’s skepticism. Why?”
Gaius snorted. “The old bastard’s just jealous, that’s all.”
The former tribune jabbed his forefinger at the screen. “Every single one of those legionnaires, from the legate down to the last man in the ranks, is a hand-picked volunteer. The cream of the crop—and it was a huge crop of volunteers. Every one’s a soldier, and every one’s dedicated to this cause. Not to mention the fact that, on average, they’re probably half again as strong and twice as fast as the average Roman legionnaire of our time. So why shouldn’t they do well?”
Ainsley rubbed his chin. “It’s still their first real battle.”
Gaius shrugged. “True. And it shows.” He nodded at the screen.