The fort of Mytilene loomed above them on the hill. Points of light moved on the walls as sentries walked their paths in the darkness. The oak and iron gate was shut and the single road that led up the sheer slopes was heavily guarded.
Gaditicus had left only twenty of his men on the galley. As soon as the rest of the century had disembarked, he had ordered the corvus bridge pulled in and Accipiter slid back from the dark island, the oars barely splashing in the still sea waters.
The galley would be safe from attack while they were gone. With all lights forbidden, she was a blot of darkness that enemy ships would miss unless they came right into the small island harbour.
Julius stood with his unit, waiting for orders. Grimly, he controlled his excitement at seeing action at last after six months of coastal patrol. Even with the advantage of surprise, the fort looked solid and dangerous and he knew scaling the walls was likely to be bloody. Once more, he examined the equipment, testing each rung of the ladders he had been issued, moving amongst the men to make sure they had cloths tied around their sandals for silence and better grip on the climb. There was nothing out of place, but his men submitted to the checks without complaint, as they had twice before since landing. He knew they would not disgrace him. Four were long-term soldiers, including Pelitas who had ten years of galley experience behind him. Julius had made him the second in the unit as soon as he realised the man had the respect of most of the crew. He had previously been overlooked for promotion, but Julius had seen the quality behind the casual approach to uniform and the quite astonishingly ugly face on the man. Pelitas had quickly become a staunch supporter of the new young tesserarius.
The other six had been picked up in Roman ports around Greece, as Accipiter made up her full complement. No doubt some of them had dark histories, but the requirements for a clean record were often ignored for galley soldiers. Men with debts or disagreements with officers knew their last chance for a salary was at sea, but Julius had no complaints. His ten men had all seen battle and to listen to them tell their stories was like a summary of the progress of Rome in the last twenty years. They were brutal and hard, and Julius enjoyed the luxury of knowing they wouldn’t shirk or turn away from the dirty jobs – like clearing the Mytilene fort of rebels on a summer night.
Gaditicus walked through the units, speaking to each officer. Suetonius nodded at whatever he was told and saluted. Julius watched his old neighbour, feeling fresh dislike but unable to pin it to any one thing in the young watch officer. For months, they had worked together with a frosty politeness that now seemed unbreakable. Suetonius still saw him as the young boy he and his friends had tied and beaten a lifetime before. He knew nothing of his experiences since then and had sneered as Julius told the men what it was like to come into Rome at the head of a Triumph with Marius. The events in the capital were only distant rumour to the men on board and Julius felt he wasn’t believed by some of Tonius’ friends. It was galling, but the first hint of tension or fighting between units would have meant demotion to the ranks. Julius had kept his silence, even when he heard Suetonius telling the story of how he had once left the other tesserarius swinging from a tree after cracking his head a few times. His tone had made the incident seem nothing more than a little rough fun between boys. He had felt Julius’ gaze on him at the end and pretended surprise, winking at his Second as they went back to their duties.
As Gaditicus walked over to the last of his units, Julius could see Suetonius grinning behind his shoulder. He kept his own eyes on the centurion and saluted stiffly as he stood to attention. Gaditicus nodded to him, returning the salute with a quick motion of his right forearm.
‘If they don’t know we’re here, we should be able to burn out that little nest before dawn. If they’ve been warned, we’ll be fighting for every step. Make sure the armour and swords are muffled. I don’t want them giving the alarm while we’re on the exposed flanks of that place.’
‘Yes, sir,’ Julius replied smartly.
‘Your men will attack the south side. The slope’s a little easier there. Bring the ladders in quickly and have a man at the bottom of each one to hold them steady so you don’t have to waste time looking for a firm footing. I’m sending Suetonius’ men to kill the gate sentries. There are four of them, so it could be noisy. If you hear shouts before you’re close to the wall, sprint. We must not give them time to organise. Understand? Good. Any questions?’
‘Do we know how many are in there, sir?’ Julius asked.
Gaditicus looked surprised.
‘We’re taking that fort whether they have fifty or five hundred! They haven’t paid taxes for two years and the local governor has been murdered. Do you think we should wait for reinforcements?’
Julius coloured with embarrassment. ‘No, sir.’
Gaditicus chuckled bitterly. ‘The navy is stretched thin enough as it is. You’ll get used to never having enough men and ships if you live through tonight. Now, move to your position and take a wide berth around the fort, using cover. Understand?’
‘Yes, sir,’ Julius replied, saluting again. Being an officer, even the lowest rank, was difficult at the best of times. He was expected to know his business, as if the ability came with the rank. He had never assaulted a fortress before by day or night, but was supposed to make decisions on the instant that could mean life or death for his men. He turned to them and felt a fresh surge of determination. He would not let them down.
‘You heard the centurion. Silent progress, split formation. Let’s go.’
As one, they thumped their right fists into their leather breastplates in acknowledgement. Julius winced at the small sound they made.
‘And none of that noisy business either. Until we are in the fort, any orders I give are not to be acknowledged. I don’t want you singing out “Yes, sir” when we’re trying to move silently, all right?’
One or two grinned, but the tension was palpable as they made their slow and careful way through the cover. Two other units detached with them, leaving Gaditicus to command the frontal attack once the sentries had had their throats cut.
Julius was thankful for the endless training drills as he saw the smooth way the men separated in pairs, with four of the long ladders to each unit. The soldiers could run up the wide rungs at almost full speed and it would take only seconds to reach the top of the black walls and get into the fort. Then it would be vicious. With no way of knowing how many rebels faced them,