Legate Titus Pomponius Philo looked to the distant, yet still imposing walls of Syracuse, and his face set into a grim expression. His hand rested upon the large pommel of his gladius, and he almost scowled at the uselessness of the weapon set against the reality of the day. The traitors of Syracuse were locked firmly behind the formidable barrier of their walls, and the might of the Roman sword alone could not hope to dislodge them.
“Excuse me, sir?” Came a voice from behind Pomponius. The large man turned from his view of the walls of Syracuse, the wolf skin that draped over his armor and crimson cloak shifting in an almost lifelike manner, and looked to the rough man that had spoken.
“Yes Laelius, what news?” Pomponius said to the Centurion. Lealius was one of his most trusted officers, and as such Pomponius had sent the man to personally begin preparing the VI Legion for siege.
Laelius nodded, his tight-lipped mouth parting to reply. “Sir, the gathering of materials for the siege engines is proceeding apace. The engineers are overseeing the men felling the lumber, and they have given me assurances that we should have all we need to begin construction by the end of the week.”
“Very well,” Pomponius replied. “Continue to send out skirmishes to scout and probe the walls, all along its length. The Syracusans know we mean to breach their city, but as of yet they know not where. I want them guessing for as long as possible.”
The centurion’s head bobbed in understanding. “Yes sir. I shall see to it myself.” With that, Laelius saluted his general with a firm press of his fist above his heart, before turning to carry out his orders.
Pomponius watched Laelius for a moment before looking back to the walls of Syracuse, and returning to the solitude of his own thoughts.
Time is not with me, the legate spoke within. I pray that I am not forced to trade expediency of my mission for the blood of my men. Mars, I beseech thee, grant me such favor.
The VI Legion bent to the task of subjugating Syracuse with alacrity, eager to gain honor in the eyes of their Roman brethren. Yet, even with the might of their will behind them, Pomponius Philo and the rest of the Ironclad, found themselves wanting.
Pomponius had first called for the construction of two siege towers that were to be used under the cover of onagers, and other siege engines, to allow the VI Legion to scale the walls of the outer city. Though his engineers completed the construction of these implements successfully, the Syracusian defense of the walls was fierce. Even with the cover of artillery, the repeated Roman attempts to bring their towers to bear was in every instance rebuffed. The siege was stalled for weeks, and eventually the Syracusian defenders were able to set fire to one of the Roman siege towers, resulting in a large loss of both men and material for the VI Legion.
Seeing that he was wasting valuable time in an effort doomed to fail, Pomponius ceased his attacks, and set back to regroup and reevaluate his strategy.
The light of the waning sun cast a deep orange glow upon the walls of Syracuse. From his vantage point atop a hill overlooking the city, Pomponius could see the face of the stonework was pocked and scarred--wounds from the attentions of his siege weapons. Yet, the walls of the city stood defiantly strong, almost daring him to crash the living wave of the VI Legion against them.
Arrayed before him on the field surrounding the walls, the bulk of the Ironclad stood arrayed in formation. Scattered within their midst were the onagers and ballistae, and in the center of it all stood the remaining siege tower. The glow of torches flickered from the ranks of the soldiers, making them seem almost like a crop of burning stalks in the waning light of the day. Atop the walls, the Syracusian defenders could be seen as well, silhouetted like dark ghosts against the torches of the battlements.
Pomponius moved his attention to the rider that was fast approaching. The man astride the horse was a centurion among the equestrians, but as the use of cavalry in the siege was limited, the man had be relegated to the task of runner. If the man looked with ill-favor upon his new tasking, he was wise to not show it in the presence of the Legio Legatus.
“Sir!” The centurion yelled as he brought his steed to a skidding halt before Pomponius. “All cohorts are set, and ready to advance at your command.”
“And what of the engineers?” Pomponius replied.
“They also declare that everything is in order, sir.”
At hearing this, a strange calm seem to set over the commander of the VI Legion. His dark eyes cast themselves once more over the men below, before drifting inexorably across the daunting walls of Syracuse. At last, Pomponius’ attention returned to the rider.
“Sound the attack.”
The second press of the VI Legion was a daring maneuver, and a strategy that could have easily failed had fortune not favored Pomponius. Since the failure of the siege towers, Pomponius had ordered the construction of a mine beneath the longest span of the Syracusian outer wall. While the engineers worked to fulfill their mission, Pomponius ordered the near constant assailment of the city with his siege artillery. Night and day the engineers and sappers dug towards the great walls, while at the same instance, Syracuse was bombarded from above.
After months of work, the engineers at last declared themselves ready to fell the walls from below. Using the bulk of the VI Legion, Pomponius ordered a full-scale night attack as cover for the breaching of the walls. With the remaining siege tower as a diversion, the Syracusians set to defending the city from yet another Roman attempt to scale over the top of their defenses.
While the attack began, a small group of experienced triarii used the cover of darkness, and the distraction of the main battle, to scale both the outer and inner walls of the city. Once inside, with the battle for the outer walls raging, this group laid in wait. The engineers beneath the outer walls fired the supports in the mine, and subsequently a large section was destroyed. With an opening now made, the VI Legion stormed through the outer defenses.
Hearing that the outer walls had been breached, the small group of triarii emerged from hiding, and fought their way to the least defended inner gate. Once there, they managed to open the gate, and allow the VI Legion to continue its assault into the heart of Syracuse.
My dearest Consul Tiberius Sempronius Longus,
It is with a pleased heart that I inform you of the completion of the Legio Sexta Ferrata’s tasking. Syracuse, and all the traitors within, have fallen to the will of Rome. Even now, as I write to you, my brothers in arms take to refortifying the city in preparation for any further aggression against the Republic in Sicily. I pray that our brothers in the Legio V Almeria are able to stem the advance of the Carthaginian vermin, but I declare that Syracuse, as well as the Legio VI Ferrata will be ready should we be called upon once more.
Along with the news of my success, I must also inform you with a heavy weight upon my soul the cost of Rome’s great victory at Syracuse. In the course of the siege, the Legio VI Ferrata suffered almost a third of its strength to casualties of death, sickness, and injury. Of those lost, I claim full responsibility. The Syracusian defense was sound, and wholly ferocious, and I will confess to my own initial ignorance of the depth of their cunning. If I am to draw the ire of the Senate for the result of my actions on the field, I will bear such solely upon mine own shoulders.
With all my heart I pray you well, and I shall not soon forget your devotion and love for the late Fulvius Lupus. I am but a servant of Rome, and I stand ready for whatever call she bade me follow.
Humbly and with all regards,
Legatus Titus Pomponius Philo