Torrential rains blanketed the coast, it's source the looming clouds that had settled over the land almost four days prior. Warm ocean water lapped the rocky shore below the mild cliff that the city of Oppido Mamertina sat upon. Blocked by the dreary overcast and unrelenting downpour, the gentle grade and contours of the land gave a view of the port to the city's south and the villages that were laid north and south of it, Taurianova and Cosoleto respectively. With winter came the temperate waters that settled near the coast and in turn the clouds and precipitation, something the locals were accustomed to. The winter rains that the inhabitants of the shores were familiar with was that of one to two day showers, paused by clear days with beautiful suns between. This squall however had remained strong, without respite, for the better part of four days with no end in sight. Groves of olive trees swayed in the sea breeze, the dirt roads interwoven through them were washed out and muddy pools accumulated atop the already saturated soil.
The sun had set relatively early, shrouded by clouds, and in the hours of darkness that had followed the illumination of the moon and stars was overpowered by the cover. The villages surrounding the lot of shipping containers, the size of a town itself, were particularly dark this evening. The storm, coupled with the movements of several battalions of Legionnaires, had inhibited the citizens from going out or participating in any Saturday night activities. The arrival of the military men and their equipment was coincidentally shortly after that of the storm that ceaselessly hovered above, almost as if it were an omen. While the street lights were out in Taurianova and Cosoleto, the sidewalks vacant, the port was bright and stirring with activity. Giant spotlights lit up the yard and cranes that moved methodically loading the two Handysize break-bulk cargo ships lined up inside the inlet. With the dedicated equipment of twenty-two Ship-to-shore cranes, each reaching up to twenty-three rows of containers, and benefiting from the natural depth of its water as well the longest linear quay available on the Parthonopian coast make the Port of Taurianova the second largest port in Parthonopia for container throughput.
The design of the port could be traced back to the political and programmatic situation in Massa in the early 1970s, in particular the labor strike and revolt in Oppido Mamertina. To pacify the revolt, Duke Egidio Amalia, who had only recently taken the office succeeding the passing of his father, offered to build a steel working center in Mamertina, as well as a railroad stump and the port south of the city. The prospect that the project would create 10,000 jobs and drastically improve the local economy softened the people and the coastal area of the Piana di Taurianova, traditionally cultivated with citrus fruit and olive groves, was identified as the appropriate site for the steel plant. Construction started by 1978, the land between the two villages clears and excavated. Eventually some building materials accumulated and a few small warehouses and office facilities were erected. However, the plant was never built, between a lack of funding and poor management, and the land left vacant. The port area, involved in the unfinished construction work, was finally re-purposed as a large commercial port in the late 90's when an older Duke Egidio had envisioned the port as a global hub capable of catering for the huge modern container ships, whose size and relevance for international trade kept growing.
The vision of a flourishing trading center was never achieved, largely caused by the serious lack of infrastructure in the form of easily accessible roadways from the port. It was built regardless, funded largely by foreign merchant companies and backed by the local Condottieri who provided the labor. The vacant site where the steel factory was intended to go was leveled and became the massive graveyard of shipping containers that were stacked there today. Under the glow of commandeered roadway construction lights Legionnaires furiously worked amidst the rows of stories of containers. They had taken control of the port under the orders of Field Marshal Ignazio Victor Friuli, who had led them there over night on the 29th of January, leading into the morning of the 30th. Since then they had ravaged the dockyard; piles of packages, items ranging from diapers to brand new televisions, wasted away in heaps on the ground enduring the rain. The contents of whole shipping containers were emptied, dumped right where it was. A work detail of up to a thousand men, a tenth of the whole force, were carrying out their tasks, what looked like looting to the civilians witnessing it. There were five ships stationed in the port when the army arrived; one, a Produz merchant vessel that raced out immediately, mid loading, at the sight of them. The two cargo ships of Parthonopian origin were seized and partially unloaded. Over the course of the past two days the work details had been laboring without rest, refitting the ships and loading them with the supplies raided from the port and towns.
Rain drops pounded the steel containers, echoing inside as soldiers rummaged through the contents, looking for what they were asked to bring back first and then grabbing whatever they could for themselves after. Whole container units, loaded with canned food and other goods, were loaded onto the seized ships. The priorities of the search were first for non perishable foods, then bedding, clothing, and toiletries; they were preparing for a long voyage and most of the men were entirely unaware as to the destination. The catalyst of the entire situation, the Field Marshal Friuli, whose position as a Field Marshal was entirely questionable at this point, sat in the passenger seat of an SUV driving southbound alongside the two and a half mile stretch of container storage. He stared at the windshield wiper that slapped back and forth with speed as pickup truck technicals, soldiers in the bed, flew past him going in the opposite direction. The vehicle came to a stop and pulled off onto the right side of the road way as a fork lift carrying a container came towards them, blocking the path momentarily.
"I can walk the rest of the way." Friuli said to the driver as he opened the door and exited the car into the downpour.
His destination was the small customs office at the private marina that he had made a base of operations for the voyage preparations. He popped up the collars of his rubber rain poncho, water beading off the brim of his water proof bowl hat. Not far from the marina, he cut down an aisle of containers to see a gang of Legionnaires on loot duty. With flashlights a handful of them combed through the second container from the ground, throwing things down to the men below who threw it, in turn, into the back of a truck. Friuli walked up to the lot of them and yelled up to the man standing at the edge of the container, pointing his light into it. The man turned his light to Friuli and the soldiers snapped to attention. "Field Marshal, sir!"
"What have you got in there boys?" Friuli inquired.
The soldier, a young man barely growing stubble on his face, looked at his partners before hesitantly answering, "Um, cigarettes, sir." Friuli nodded in earnest and raised both his arms up. Water droplets trickled down his sleeve as he waved his hands, gesturing for the boy to throw a carton down to him. He caught the box and tucked it inside his jacket, "Get your CO over here, mark this one to be put on the ship." He let the men get back to work as he briskly jogged the rest of the way to the office. As he rounded the last corner a little over a minute later he was first struck with a salty mist to the face before the blinding lights that lit up the building and the marina docks. The small, mostly civilian owned, boats rocked with the current with the spotlights on them. Friuli noticed the brake lights of the SUV he had been in as it idled in front of the building. He shook his head before questioning what the commotion in front was all about; there were thirty plus people crowded outside, gathered between Friuli's vehicle, two idling military jeeps, and the staircase that led inside.
Almost the entire office staff was lined up with their backs pressed against the exterior wall under the roof overhang. It was rather loud between the chatter, car engines, and incessant, foaming barking from the three large dogs being held tightly by the Colonel Baldo Pherigo and an aide. Pherigo had an exasperated look on his face, as did most of the people there, as he leaned all of his weight back while the two leashes he held dragged him forward. Friuli turned his attention towards the direction the dogs were howling at and locked eyes with Vincenzo Fiorino who was hurriedly walking towards him. Vincenzo had a similarly frantic look on his face as he saluted Friuli and said, "General Bichieri is here, sir."
"Right here? Now?" Friuli was taken aback.
"Yes sir, he wants to speak with you," Vincenzo nodded before turning around and leading Friuli around the backside of his car and through a string of looming riflemen who were staring down General Aroldo Bichieri and his string of riflemen in front of their jeeps. Aroldo had his head hung down and his hand cupped over the top of his cigarette as he pulled on it. As Friuli's soldiers parted for him he walked into the square the crowd formed with his arms opened wide. Vincenzo stood off to his right as Friuli shouted over the rain, "Aroldo! I haven't heard back from you in four days," he stopped walking just five feet short of Aroldo, "I am surprised to see you."
"It's General Bichieri," Aroldo muttered under his breath. Exhaling his cigarette, a cloud of smoke around him, he said much louder, "I wanted to speak with you in person." Friuli nodded, water shaking off the brim of his hat, "Of course," he paused and feigned a smile, "Good," Friuli nodded once more and looked down very briefly, "It's good to see you, Aroldo. Would you believe that the Major Dante Empiaganto tried to arrest me on the 29th? I mean, of all the people," Friuli forced a hearty laugh. Aroldo had no comment, only fidgeted in place. He tapped the ash off his cigarette but it snapped at the filter from getting wet. Annoyed he tossed it to the mud and looked at Friuli.
"Can we bring this inside please?" He said somewhat sternly.
Friuli looked at him blankly for a second and nodded before proceeding to walk up the steps, Aroldo following. The metal staircase into the trailer customs office rattled as they ran up them and inside. A single room building, save for a bathroom in the back, it was cramped with furniture and had a strong damp, salty odor. The white linoleum tile floors were not visible with a layer of mud covering the floor and a layer of hay on top of it to alleviate the problem ever so slightly. The Field Marshal took his jacket off and placed it on top of a desk, his hat after that, while Aroldo did the same before taking a seat on a desk across from Friuli. Friuli looked behind himself and rubbed his bald head for a moment before he leaned back on the paper cover desk there. With a clap of his hands he raised his eyebrows and said, "Smart. Come here ahead of the forces so we can personally coordinate a counter attack."
What Friuli was referring to was the second army group that had arrived in the Mamertina area, a little over twenty-four hours after his had. The four regiment strong Legion detachment he had been overseeing in Carrara, ten thousand men-at-arms, rooted themselves in the positions he had assigned just before dawn on the morning of the 30th of January. A few hours after sunrise on the 31st the first skirmishes erupted, east of the fields and orchard outside the port. Since then, just as the rain, fighting was non stop. Two regiments were in Oppido Mamertina alone, a third split between Cosoleto and Taurianova. Before fighting began, on their first day of the occupation of the region, for upwards to fifteen miles out from the port Friuli's Legionnaires had blocked off and damaged roadways. This was much to his advantage as it had prevented the forces baring down on him from dragging artillery in yet and had drastically slowed down their advance. Regardless, the Mamertina province of the Duchy of Massa was completely encircled and surrounded with reinforcements streaming in to aid the force laying siege.
Aroldo looked at the filthy floor and pulled a hand through his hair before grabbing his pack of his cigarettes from his chest pocket only to see them thoroughly drenched and ruined. With a groan he threw the whole box on the floor, Friuli pulled the fresh carton from his jacket and peeled the plastic wrapping off to grab out a pack and give one to him. Aroldo took it, opened it up and retrieved a smoke, giving Friuli a flicking motion with his thumb for a lighter. Friuli leaned in and lit it for the man who took a long drag and leaned back, "Well, Ignazio, we both know that is not why I am here."
"It is Field Marshal Friuli," he replied sternly, his demeanor changing instantly.
Aroldo scoffed and stood up, "Right, well, Field Marshal," he said mockingly, "no one outside of the grunts you've got trapped here recognizes that anymore. You were right about me coming ahead of the force, however. Tomorrow morning my entire garrison from Lepanto will be here and finish of the resistance you're holding in Oppido. These shacks will be easy pickings from there," he looked around himself and spat on the floor.
Friuli stood up with force and unbuckled the holster of his service pistol, his hand hovering over the grip. Aroldo did not flinch but did back up a pace before continuing, "That doesn't have to happen, Ignazio. After all, we are old friends. You did give me my post babysitting a couple of blind donkeybrains from an impending attack by an army led by who else but their son-in-law? Come with me to Ancona so you can answer for what has happened."
"I did not kill her!" Friuli roared, wiping all of the contents off of the desk.
"Of course," Aroldo said raising his hands, "so then face a trial and prove your innocence, do the right thing."
"Because I will get a fair and just trial," Friuli snarled, pulling the pistol from its holster but keeping it trained on the floor, "What made you think I would let you arrest me? That I would roll over and lead all of these men to their execution for treason they didn't commit?" He raised the gun to his chest level and began to walk backwards towards the door. He placed a hand on the doorknob and began to twist it while Aroldo interjected, a hint of panic in his voice, "Because we are old friends, Ignazio. I don't want to see you killed out here and I knew you wouldn't kill me like this. But Eligio, the brother of the woman you murdered, he will be here shortly behind me. That means no quarter. Come with me now and the men can continue their service for the Legion, some penalties in pay and length of service of course, but they get to live. And so do you! Face a trial, if you really are guilt free then there is no reason you shouldn't."
Friuli threw open the door to the building and stood on the landing of the stair platform. Aroldo's riflemen looked up confused as their commander came out of the building behind the Field Marshal. Friuli shouted down, "Men! Arrest General Bichieri and his boys," before jogging down the steps and towards the riflemen. Most stood in shock but one man, in the center, raised his rifle up towards Friuli who shot him in the chest with his pistol near instantly. There was a brief commotion and the dogs now seemed uncontrollable with their ferocious howling. Aroldo stood atop the landing screaming at Friuli as his men were quickly restrained. Friuli looked up at him and said menacingly, "I should've known! Pherigo's hounds are never wrong in smelling out friend from foe. I have a duty to lead these men, Aroldo. For now it is no longer in Parthonopia, sadly."
A couple of Friuli's riflemen were restraining Aroldo at this point who was struggling and screaming at Friuli who had his back turned at now, beginning to walk away with Vincenzo Fiorino. Friuli stopped dead in his tracks and turned around when Aroldo shouted, "You lead no one! You're shit, nothing! Your mother should have swallowed you!" Friuli looked over to Colonel Pherigo, still gripping his dogs, "Colonel! Let him have one, just a taste though."
Pherigo let go of one leash and the black hound mutt raced towards Aroldo, seeming to do it all in one stride, never touching the ground. Growling the dog tore at the General's arm as he screamed out in pain. Friuli thanked Pherigo, walking over and petting the dog that he was still holding on to. He could hear a trainer bringing the dog on Aroldo to heel as he looked up from the one he was petting and stood up to address the Colonel and Vincenzo who was hovering behind him. "This is it men. We have a set deadline of mid morning tomorrow or we are all dead where we stand. Vincenzo," turning his attention to him, "I want the first cargo ship out of the port and anchored a few miles off the coast within the next two hours. Get on the line and initiate civilian evacuations of Cosoleto and Taurianova immediately."
"I'm sorry, sir, but I firmly believe the civilian population has prevented them from pounding us to the earth with artillery and rushing in to slaughter the rest." Pherigo interjected.
"That is exactly correctly," Friuli nodded, "the regiment there and working in the port need to begin loading onto the second ship. From there we have all night to slowly withdraw from Oppido Mamertina to evacuate. Oppido will be our last stand here and Pherigo," he placed a hand on the man's shoulder, "I want you to oversee the defense there. Relieve Colonel Roncalli and relay the commands," Pherigo nodded to Friuli and saluted proudly before handing him the leash to the dog at his feet, "Take him with you for now, you can use the extra protection. His name is Filip."
Friuli laughed at the name as the Colonel rushed off grabbing several riflemen and one of Aroldo's jeeps and heading north to the urban complex. Friuli crouched down and pet the dog whose disposition made a complete turn around as he laid down in the mud and graciously accepted the affection. Having left his jacket inside he was now thoroughly soaked, just like the dog but lacking the strong smell. Vincenzo was still hovering over him waiting for a command. In the past three days the boy had seen his workload and responsibilities more than triple. He stared blankly at the Field Marshal who stood there staring back, raindrops pound the top of his bald head.
"We never talked about what I told you the other day."
Friuli stood up and placed his hands on Vincenzo's shoulders, "Son, if I did not trust you, you would not be here right now." He gave one strong pat on Vincenzo's arms and turned around, placing an arm over his shoulder and looked out at the port. The lights highlighted the troops working feverishly loading the ships. They looked at their tiny fleet; two cargo ships and two Impetuoso-class destroyers. Vincenzo turned away from the foggy view and asked Friuli plainly, "Where are we going?
"We're going to Nori, Vincenzo." Friuli said with a smile, never turning away from the inlet.
*****
It had been almost a month and a half at sea. For the past forty days the small contingent sailed through increasingly warm weather until it grew colder again. Despite adding to the travel time, they had remained well within international waters, steering clear of any frequently traveled trade lanes as well. It had been mostly nothing but open ocean as the route taken had favored the Aurum Ocean, crossing the vast continental gap between Nori and Lira. The fleet appeared to look like trade vessels guarded by merchant marine ships nonetheless; the two accompanying destroyers that had been seized served as enough of a deterrent to most potential minor threats. The complete lack of a Parthonopian navy, let alone an organized one, allowed for an easy escape from Pyrrenian Bay. The fact that Parthonopia was not a recognized country made it so that Prince Carlo della Ancona was in no place to call for international support to capture to Friuli's escaped force. The only real potential threat was from mercenary groups or straying into the domestic waters of particularly trigger happy nations.
A drastically outdated piece of equipment, having been originally built in the mid 1960's off of plans of hull designs from the early 1950's. Even so their loss was a major blow for the potential formation a Parthonopian Coast Guard, let alone a fleet. The two destroyers were the only ones owned by any Parthonopian coastal state, in direct violation of the Treaty of Oliviera. The Impetuoso and the Indomito were originally intended for the Produz Navy and the Taurianova dockyards were tasked with the job. When payment was cancelled and building still incomplete, Duke Egidio had taken them on as a personal pet project and restored them over the course of the past two decades.
The destroyers had never seen combat before in their career, which was not much of a career to begin with. The Field Marshal Ignazio Victor Friuli, who was no naval commander by any means, was the first to truly christen them. He stood out on the deck of the Impetuoso looking out at the sea; it was one of the brisker mornings of recent and he had an extra jacket on as well as a wool hat. They were close to their destination but it had become increasingly harder to sleep at night and the anxiousness overwhelmed him. Signs of a mutiny were impending in certain sections of the forces. The men were weary and many constantly seasick. The conditions on the cargo containers were less then satisfactory as the intended passenger capacity was low yet they contained the bulk of the force. The stench of vomit was strong in the hallways, corridors, and sleeping quarters. Food and water, thankfully, was not scarce as the looting had paid off. Friuli was worried nonetheless; many of the enlisted men were beginning to have second thoughts and doubted whether they should have ever left.
The plea given by General Aroldo Bichieri had become known by the troops and the question of whether they should have accepted it and turned over Friuli was asked by a growing number in secret. He needed to change the course of things soon and he had banked everything on the famed tales of a pirate and criminal haven far from his homeland. The Magnostrium Island Chains, a land not for the faint of heart, where any one is free from persecution in their homelands and the evasion of warrants is the primary driver in immigration. He was certain that he would be able to find work in the region. This would more than likely require swearing loyalty to a new lord and Friuli had accepted that; he had spent most of his life in service, with unquestionable loyalty, to a man who now wished him dead. His only concern was that of the loyalty of his men to him, which he desperately needed to keep for survival.
He was certain that a warm home on dry land, consistent hot meals and steady employment would assure the loyalty of the over seven thousand former Legionnaires that had escaped Porto Taurianova. All he could do in the meantime was stay the course and pray that order did not crumble before they got there. He was absolutely, undeniably sure, however, that the fleet was close and a new beginning in Nori was soon. Any day now who he thought, looking out at the horizon, before he would have new issues to deal with. He pushed the burning question to back of his head, but it haunted him among the many other problems that stressed. What would happen and what he would do once he was wherever he ended up was a problem for later, getting there was the only task for the time being.