Clay Warrior Stories

A gladius is a short sword. A prodigy is a talented youth. Put them together and people die Welcome to 271 BC This is not the full-time professional Legion of Imperial Rome. This is the levied Legion of the mid-Republic and it is messy. If you like Roman adventure and 3rd Century military historical fiction, you will love the Clay Warrior Stories series. Going further than historical fiction, the Clay Warrior Stories are adventure books designed to make you want to strap on a shield, draw a gladius, and join a Legion battle line. Set in the years before and during the 1st Punic War, the series follows the exploits of a young, hot-headed swordsman. From a lad on his father's farm, to a Legion training camp, to the Capital of the Republic, Alerio Sisera learns that sharp steel and quick reflexes are not always a Legionary's best assets.

In the capital of the Republic, politics and scandal are normal. When a powerful citizen conspires with outside forces, normal becomes treason. Welcome to the world of 266 BC. Lance Corporal Alerio Sisera is in transit to the southern Legion. When thugs from a protection racket grab his travel bag, Alerio's plan is simple. Locate the gang leader and negotiate with him. Unexpectedly, the hunt leads Alerio to a conspiracy, the murder of two Senators, and a treaty that threatens to destroy the Republic. Resolutions in the capital take many forms. For Alerio Sisera, it's a gladius and spilled blood.

It only takes one player in the secrets, surrogates, and spies game to go rogue. Then greed exceeds rationality and Legionaries die. Welcome to the world of 265 BC When a patrol boat of butchered Legionaries washes up on a beach, Lance Corporal Alerio Sisera volunteers to be the scout for the Legion's response. But, he runs into complications and is forced to exceed his assignment. Suddenly, he finds himself in a blood feud with a powerful enemy, posted at a besieged harbor garrison, and fighting for his life against overwhelming odds. Reinforcements are not coming. Surrounded by enemies, it's up to Alerio to battle with his gladius while standing in bloody water.

A battlefield covered with dead Legionaries An Empire encroaching on the Republic A Senate in turmoil Welcome to 265 B.C. Alerio Sisera will need all of his skills as a heavy infantryman, a scout and a weapon's instructor to survive. Standing with two gladii in a river of blood, the Legionary will battle for his life in the Reluctant Siege.

The tide of soldiers washed over the Legion shields Buried, the ranks of Legionaries sagged. "Push!" the Legion NCO yelled. Welcome to 264 B.C. Over the grunts and cries of men struggling against the mass of bodies pressing down on them, the Optio bellowed again, "Push!" And the Legion shields rose, rolling back the tide. The higher the shields, the more soldiers slid off, and the straighter the Legionaries stood. One shield tilted back, and a mercenary soldier tumbled behind the ranks. An infantryman stepped back and drove his blade between the soldier's ribs. Once the breach was sealed, he returned to his place in Legion combat line. With the Qart Hadasht Empire controlling the port of Messina and the shipping lanes, one Legionary is sent across the Messina Strait to do the impossible. Open the harbor for the Legion. Once behind enemy lines, Alerio Sisera relies on his style of physical negotiations and brutal diplomacy to complete the mission.

A tale of war, tactics, subterfuge, and luck. And one man's struggle to resurrect his reputation. Welcome to late 264 B.C. The Legion is a machine of war. When the gears are turning, those not in sync with the machine get pulverized in the cogs. Most of the time, it's the enemy. Unfortunately, for Lance Corporal Alerio Sisera, the gears have political and egotistical parts that are just as sharp as gladius blades. Caught in the wrong place by vindictive officers, he is sentenced to a session on the punishment post and is badly injured. Wounded and disgraced, he must now save the same Legion that sentenced him to the harsh discipline. Where an average man might falter on the journey, Lance Corporal Sisera charges headlong into the fray. The fates have thrown down the challenges and Alerio faces each with his shield and gladius as he fights and prays that Fortune Reigns.

Alerio hurled the spear. Immediately regretting the loss of his second weapon, he prayed. "Nenia, Goddess of Death, if it's my time, come for me quickly." Welcome to January 263 B.C. Attacking a pair of long spears with his short dagger was going to hurt and add to Alerio's collection of combat scars. And only leave him injured if Fortuna smiled on him. If not? That's why he prayed to the other Goddess. This should have been the easiest, most luxurious duty a heavy infantryman could ever imagine. It didn't turn out that way and, at the moment, he regretted throwing the spear. These are the adventures of Alerio Sisera, Corporal of the Republic's Legions, Weapons Instructor, experienced Raider, Combat Rower, and protege of a powerful Roman Senator.

The two Legionaries appeared to be locked in an embrace. They flew off the top of the slope. Their plunge, however, wasn't voluntary. They were pinned together by a long iron barb protruding through their stomachs. Welcome to 263 B.C. Between clashes of the Qart Hadasht Empire and the upstart Republic, men died. Whether from sharp blades held by strong arms or stones and bolts launched by ancient artillery, the hand of death grabbed souls from both sides of the battle line. Alerio Sisera will need more than an iron constitution, sharp steel, and a sturdy shield. To survive, he'll need his wits, luck, and infinite courage.

The heart and life of a battle is the center of the combat line. A dark, throbbing, and terrifying place. A place where death prowls between enemy shields, waiting for sharp blades to carve out an advantage. Welcome to 262 B.C. A single Legion is rushed into combat to stop a fortified army. The clash between Empire and Republic thrusts thousands of Legionaries into a nasty epicenter of conflict. In the slaughter yard of a failing shield wall, Alerio Sisera and his infantrymen are cut-off and outnumbered. They will need sacrifice, discipline, and deceptive valor to survive the final assault.

When a Legionary pushes the boundaries, he draws a crowd. Either to watch him collect a medal or collect lashes. And if it's really bad, an eighty-foot drop from Tarpeian Rock. Welcome to 261 B.C. There are anxious words to describe being in unfathomable trouble. A feeling of pressure, an emotion of being in over-your-head, and a sense of being smothered. Legion Centurion Alerio Sisera was drowning in the sea and experiencing all of them. From black, to gray, to green water overhead, Alerio transitioned through the ocean layers as he swam upward. Lungs screaming for air, and his chest heaving, his body threatened to take in a breath. It became a competition between the urges of his lungs and the control of his mind. Then, the green filtered sunlight was blotted out. Given any air in his lungs, Alerio would have swum away from the keel of the enemy warship. But the competition for his body was in the final stages. His options were to surface and breathe or, to die. Some depths are not water but intrigue. Both can overwhelm, suffocate, and drown the average man. For Alerio Sisera, he'll need his gladius, several magnitudes of audacity, and his wits to survive Neptune's fury.

Infantry tactics at a sea battle offer dangerous options. Run the boarding ramp into the tips of the enemy's blades. Or fall into the gap between warships. Welcome to 260 B.C. Death waits at both, but if you make it to the enemy's deck you have a fighting chance. With the sea, you are doomed by the weight of your armor as soon as you splash down. There is another option: Be the first Legionary to board an enemy ship. You might surprise and disrupt the Empire soldiers. And win medals and accolades. Or you might die as an unjust sacrifice.

"When this is over, you and I are going to have a short talk over a pair of long blades." The Senior Tribune did not care for Centurion Alerio Sisera and the feeling was mutual. Welcome to 259 B.C. By law, all debts must be paid by the Ides of March. For men like them, sharp steel was the only acceptable currency. Unless something changed, one would emerge a winner and the other the guest of honor at a funeral. Blood payment might not have been the official objective. But it would not matter to an enraged Alerio Sisera as he clutched a gladius and held a temple voucher aloft. Every debt must be paid by the Ides of March. Especially, those of men scheming behind Muted Implications.

A clash of deities... "You claim to speak for the Sky Father. That must give you an amazing feeling of power," Alerio suggested. "But Priest of Jupiter, the Goddess Nenia speaks through me. And it is not a feeling of power. In fact, the voice of death creates a sensation of hopelessness." Welcome to the spring of 258 BC. The expanding war with the Qart Hadasht Empire is changing the Republic's military supply structure. Supplying scattered Legions and far-flung naval squadrons is overextending the provincial quartermaster system. Growing awkwardly to handle the needs, the military organizations are evolving, slowly. Now evil men have found a way to profit from the disorganization. The mission for Alerio Sisera is to bring the thieves to justice. But the Tribune has no idea exposing a criminal enterprise will cause a clash between a God and a Goddess. And require vengeance from his alter ego, Death Caller.

The opinions range from holy man to talented tactician, Marcus Flamma informed Alerio. "And extend all the way to you being a brutal killer or a full on drunk." "If it pleases you, I am all of those," Alerio replied. "Usually one at a time, but often I combine them." "See, you don't care what other's think about you," Marcus summed up. "How can you do that?" "Pray and think?" Alerio asked. "Or fight and drink?" Welcome to summer 258 B.C.

"You treated us like dirt then taught us to fight as a unit. That is the mark of a professional military officer," Metie stated. "Last night you became a spirit and walked among the soldiers. Now you leave sacrifices for their dead and thank your Goddess for sparing us. That is very priest like. The guardsmen, Tribune, are conflicted." Alerio Sisera had made killers out of a handful of guardsmen to win over one Captain. The other three Captains were in their regions and hundreds of miles away. And each would require a different task to give Alerio an endorsement as a Military Attaché. Tribune Sisera prayed for an opportunity to get all four Captains in one place. He should have remembered Aesop's warning, "Be careful what you wished for, lest you get it." Welcome to 257 B.C.

"Fresh hate is fuel," Alerio whispered. Groaning with agony from the pain in his tortured body, he struggled to get the tunic over his head. Reluctantly, Hektor handed him the armor and Senior Tribune Sisera added. "They wanted someone to die this night. I'm only fulfilling their wish." Outside the tent, Alerio scooped a bucket of water from the barrel and carried it to Phobos. Picking up on his master's mood, the stallion danced sideways in anticipation of combat. The frantic movements reminded Alerio of lessons from his youth. "You're right," he uttered to the horse. "Never allow your temper to rule your emotions. And never temper your revenge with passion or compassion." Under the influence of the memory, the Legion officer's breathing calmed, and his mind settled. Once the stallion had enough water, Alerio tossed the bucket in the direction of the barrel and mounted the beast. A moment later, man and horse trotted away from the supply depot. Alerio neither rushed Phobos nor reined him in. Rather, he allowed the animal to move at a steady pace towards the Consuls' headquarters. Senior Tribune Sisera could have delayed the retribution, but honor demanded the killing take place before sunrise. Welcome to 256 B.C.

"Jealousy is but one road to the preordained," Hektor offered. "Are you a seer, now?" Alerio challenged. "No, sir. I'm a youth who worries about how you're being treated." "Colonel, we're all apprehensive about what fate their jealousy is driving you towards," Centurion Pelle added. "I've sworn a Tribune's Oath to a God and a General," Alerio informed them. He tugged the crested helmet down over his head before saying. "We can sit with bowls of camp stew and talk about our feelings later. Right now, I have a battle to win." Welcome to 255 B.C.

Savage Birthright is the plight of Princes, usurpers, and those who inherit the burdens of powerful fathers. When extortion draws Alerio Sisera to an Illyrian capital, the Legion officer finds an old adversary who needs his help, a poison kiss from a masked woman during a street festival, and a city full of people who want him dead. From a Prince who needs to prepare for the trials of ascension, to a Priestess who wants to be Queen, Savage Birthright throws Battle Commander Alerio Sisera into a nest of vipers with no way out. Welcome to 252 B.C.

Some skills need to remain relevant. Everybody starts at the bottom when they change careers. Alerio Sisera understood the concept. He even recognized the difference between being a military man who lived by the gladius and a politician who used a pen to craft agreements. But the theory went to Hades when a series of brutal robberies required Lictor Sisera to investigate the crimes. Bringing fresh eyes to the scenes, a different perspective to the questioning, and postulating a hypothesis ended when blades were drawn. In Abject Authority, Alerio is forced to fight for his life while trying to enforce the laws of the Republic. It seems even as a politician, Alerio Sisera needs to keep his blades sharp because some skills are never truly retired. Welcome to 251 B.C.