Chapter 73: Raid on Pompeii (I)

Chapter 73: Raid on Pompeii (I)

Dorin pressed her advantage relentlessly, forcing Varus to retreat step by step. She swung her wooden sword repeatedly until Varus, unable to dodge in time, was struck on the shoulder, causing him to cry out in pain.

Dorin immediately stopped and asked with concern, “Are you okay?”

Varus rubbed his shoulder. Dorin had held back, so there was no serious injury. As the pain subsided, he replied, “I’m fine.”

“Should we continue?” Dorin asked, blinking and showing a hint of superiority.

Not wanting to be looked down upon by a girl, Varus gritted his teeth and said, “Of course we’ll continue!”

“Then let’s go again.” Dorin immediately took up her stance.

“Halt!” Instructor Rufus, who had somehow already stood beside them, stepped forward and asked Varus: “Have you never practiced sword fighting before?”

“N-no, I haven’t,” Varus answered honestly, feeling a bit ashamed.

Rufus was surprised.

As a former primus pilus of a legion, how could this boy’s grandfather have failed to train him from a young age? That’s a deeply ingrained Roman tradition!

What Rufus didn’t know was that ever since Quintus lost his son and daughter-in-law, he had been consumed by revenge, neglecting the care and education of his grandson.

After thinking for a moment, Rufus said, “Dorin, go over to Marcus and others and spar with them in turn.”

“Yes, sir.” Dorin glanced at Varus before turning to leave.

“Child, you won’t be sparring today,” Rufus said kindly. “Let’s start by practicing the basic stances of sword fighting. See, you should hold the wooden shield like this... Yes, that way it’s easier on your arm, allows you to exert force more efficiently, and prevents injury... Step forward with your left foot, brace with your right, and squat slightly. Keep the wooden shield in front of your chest, with the wooden sword hidden behind it but ready to strike at any moment... Perfect, just like that. And remember, always keep your eyes on your opponent. Even if blood splashes on your face, you can’t blink. Understood?”

Under Rufus’ careful guidance, Varus spent the rest of the time practicing his sword fighting stances and movements alone. By the time Rufus announced that the morning’s military training was over, Varus was so exhausted that he could barely lift his arms.

Then, Acco directed everyone to form up again and return to the farm’s backyard.

Agnes stood outside the dining hall, and upon seeing them arrive, she immediately called out with a beaming smile: “Children, come and have a jar of milk first to quench your thirst!”

Amid the chorus of “Thank you, Aunt Agnes,” there was a soft “Thanks Mom,” which came from Nesuya.

Varus, holding his jar of milk, sat down at a wooden table and took a sip. The drink was both sour and sweet, with a delightful taste that was refreshingly cool. He drank it all in one go and then let out a contented burp.

“Tastes good, doesn’t it? This is a special recipe from the kitchen, with a bit of honey added. It’s something most people don’t get to taste. We’re lucky to be in the logistics camp with Aunt Agnes looking after us; otherwise, we’d be stuck drinking greasy soup for lunch. So today’s a good day,” a boy chimed in, speaking rapidly. “You shouldn’t have finished it all at once. You should’ve saved some to go with the bread—it’s better that way.”

Varus remembered the boy’s name was Menas and replied with a frown, “But I’ve already finished it all. Menas, what should I do?”

After a moment of hesitation, Menas picked up his own jar. “I’ll pour you a little more.”

At this moment, Varus recalled what Maximus had said to him two days ago when he first joined the evening study session: “Child, you’re new here, but don’t worry about being excluded or bullied. These kids have all had hard lives, and they understand the importance of looking out for one another. They’ll treat you like a brother, and I hope you’ll see them as brothers and sisters too. Make this place your home, and live here happily...”

As Menas poured half of his milk into Varus’ jar, Varus felt both touched and a bit ashamed.

Menas leaned in closer and whispered, “You really got beaten up by Dorin today, huh? That girl’s nothing like a regular girl—when she starts fighting, she goes all out like a madwoman, with no sense of restraint.”

“Menas, are you talking bad about me again? Is your skin itching for another beating?!” Dorin’s voice suddenly came from behind, startling Menas. He quickly shook his head, “I-I wasn’t saying anything bad about you. I was just telling Varus how to enjoy his milk properly. Right, Varus?”

Seeing Menas winking at him, Varus nodded and said, “Yes, that’s right.”

“Sir, enough talking, let’s get on board! We can’t wait any longer!”

“Yeah! After these tough days of training, we’re eager to become heroes!”

The soldiers shouted eagerly. Carminus cursed playfully at the soldiers and glanced at Aulus beside him.

Aulus spoke in a deep voice, “Give the order.”

Carminus waved his hand and shouted, “Push the ships into the sea!”

The soldiers worked together to push the vessels into the waves, then quickly jumped aboard. The appointed helmsmen adjusted the sails to the right angle. As soon as the sails were unfurled, they caught the full force of the northern wind.

With the strong wind propelling them, the other soldiers didn’t even need to row—the ships swiftly left the shore...

Sailing along the coastline, the ships sped south like arrows. Although the night wind was quite strong, the stretch from Cape Miseno to Sorrento, encompassing coastal towns like Naples and Pompeii, formed a large circular bay (Gulf of Naples/Bay of Naples). This weakened the waves coming from the open sea. Moreover, most of the soldiers were experienced sailors, so even sailing at night, they didn’t encounter any significant risks along the way.

After a little over ten minutes, the soldiers spotted a bright light on the coast ahead—this was the lighthouse at the port. However, the soldiers, familiar with the route, took no action as they knew this was the town of Herculaneum.

A short while later, when they saw a second bright light, Carminus, standing at the bow of the lead ship, immediately ordered the sails to be furled. The soldiers then began to row vigorously, steering the ship towards the shore...

Carminus strained his eyes, peering at the coast under the lighthouse’s glow. “Not this port—further ahead!... This is the one, this is it! Row hard, charge in!”

The soldiers rowed furiously, and the ships surged through the dark, rolling waves, breaking into Pompeii’s new harbor, which was designated for receiving foreign merchant ships. The second, third, fourth, and fifth ships followed closely behind. Soon, the urgent sound of bells rang out across the port...

━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━

Maximus led the main force of the guard team and some of the logistics camp’s leaders to leave the camp at dusk, resulting in the entire guard camp being completely empty.

To avoid being detected by the First Battalion, they first headed south, reaching the abandoned hillside camp of the rebel army. Then, they turned west, reaching the coast and marching quickly south along the flat coastal road.

Due to the presence of the rebel army, few people ventured outside during the day in the Vesuvius area, so there were even fewer at night.

The rebel main camp was about 10 kilometers from Pompeii. Maximus’ army carried no heavy loads, so they marched quickly. After a few hours, they reached the northern side of Pompeii. It was a time of complete stillness, and the army was now lurking less than 500 meters from Pompeii. This area, at the southern foothills of Vesuvius, had uneven terrain, dense trees, and thick underbrush, making it difficult for the sentries on the city walls to spot them.

The soldiers lay on the ground to rest and regain their strength.

Maximus gazed into the distance. Under the night sky, Pompeii resembled a giant beast lying on the ground, sound asleep. The Heracleum Gate, dimly illuminated by torches on the city walls, appeared like one of its eyes, tightly shut.

He then shifted his gaze westward, where darkness swallowed the horizon, making it impossible to distinguish the sky from the sea. Only the sound of the waves crashing against the shore echoed in his ears...

“It’s still early. The assault team probably hasn’t set out yet,” Quintus said beside him.

“How do you know?” Maximus asked curiously, not doubting him. They had marched mostly under the cover of night, and without carrying a water clock, Maximus had no way of knowing the time.

Quintus pointed ahead and said, “Look at those sentries. Deep into the night, people naturally grow weary. Without supervision, these guards will instinctively disregard military discipline, leaning against walls to rest. Only soldiers who have undergone strict training and experienced harsh battles will rigorously adhere to discipline, knowing that a moment of comfort can lead to disaster. But clearly, the Pompeians aren’t such soldiers. See how those sentries are still pacing back and forth? That means it’s still early, so there’s no need to rush, Leader Maximus. You can rest for now.”

Maximus nodded, then couldn’t help but ask, “Aren’t you worried, Quintus?”

“If you’re referring to the sea raid, there’s nothing to worry about. We’ve made ample preparations in advance. If it still fails, it can only be the arrangement of the Goddess of Fate,” Quintus replied calmly. “The only thing I am slightly concerned about is that after breaching the city, Areius Vettius might escape.”

Maximus glanced at the weathered old soldier, then silently turned his gaze back toward Pompeii...

Maximus had dared to make the decision to launch a night raid on Pompeii because, even if it failed, he would only lose 200 soldiers. Though he would face criticism from Spartacus and the other leaders, it wouldn’t be enough to shake his position as the leader of the logistics camp. He could regain any lost prestige through his efforts in the future.