The Clouds of Caelus
Copyright© 2026 by Lumpy
Chapter 5
Memphis, Egypt
Aelius studied the city ahead of him, its limestone walls and mudbrick buildings rising from the riverbank, and hoped his scouts were right. They had reported that there were no signs of defenders. No fortified positions, no soldiers in the streets, and no sign of Egyptian scouts.
He had sent two more groups of scouts to follow up and confirm that the improbable report was true.
All the reports were the same. No soldiers in sight and only a few civilians, most of whom probably were in hiding because they knew there were armies in the area.
For all appearances, the Egyptians had abandoned the town.
“Tribune Marcellus,” he called to the commander of the twelfth cohort, who’d just arrived at his summons. “Deploy your cohort along the main avenue and stay vigilant. I don’t trust this. Send runners to all tribune commanders. They are to follow behind, advancing by sections and securing each block before moving forward. No one rushes ahead.”
The man saluted and ran off to the legion’s lead element. Twenty minutes later, the ninth legion began moving into the city, a thousand men moving carefully, street by street.
Aelius positioned himself at the highest point outside of the town that he could find, to get a view of their movement until he could move into the city and get a better position.
The first centuries penetrated three blocks without contact. In spite of that, everything still felt wrong to him. He’d entered enemy cities before, and they weren’t like this. Even abandoned settlements showed signs of recent habitation. Here, nothing moved at all.
Thirty minutes of steady forward momentum later, a runner came galloping back toward his command post. “Sir, the twelfth reports they have reached the central plaza and still see no sign of resistance.”
“Tell the tribune to halt at the plaza’s edge and wait for the flanking cohorts to reach his position before advancing further. Pass the word that we are moving our command post just inside the city.”
As the man saluted and rode away, Aelius shifted his command staff inside a taller building, climbing up to the roof, which gave him a fairly good view of most of the city.
The nineteenth and twenty-second cohorts took positions to the west of the twelfth, while the twenty-third and twenty-fourth took positions to the east of them. That gave them a small amount of control of the center of the city, although they still had a lot of the northern section of the city uncleared, waiting on his remaining five cohorts to move in and clear them.
Once all the men in the center were ready, the cohorts began to move forward into the central plaza.
The ambush erupted without warning.
Muzzle flashes bloomed from dozens of concealed positions, rooftops, windows, and doorways that had all appeared empty moments before. The sharp crack of rifle fire filled the air as bullets slammed into the advancing legionaries. Men dropped instantly.
The attack wasn’t just in the center of the city, but across it as every building seemed to suddenly come alive with fire.
In the plaza, the neat formation dissolved as legionaries dove for whatever cover they could find.
Aelius cursed. He’d felt that something was wrong, but he’d still sent his men forward. He knew that was his only choice. He couldn’t leave an uncleared city at his rear, and there was no way to clear it without marching in, but he’d felt there was a trap here, and it pained him to have to spring it.
The Egyptians had prepared well, turning the plaza into a killing ground with overlapping fields of fire from elevated positions. His men were pinned down in the open, unable to advance or retreat without exposing themselves to the crossfire.
“Send the fifty-fourth cohort up, order them around those buildings to the east and try to bring in flanking fire on those positions,” he barked to his runners.
It took time, but they began to get his reserves into position, putting enough pressure on the enemy to allow his men to untangle themselves. From there, his men began to work on clearing buildings, including those that were considered at their rear an hour ago.
Although there was still live fire happening in the area, Aelius moved his command post to a stone building overlooking the plaza where he could direct his men more effectively. Through the windows he watched squads using doorways and building corners for cover, laying down suppressing fire while their comrades maneuvered for better positions.
The only thing that saved them was their new rifles. He had no way of knowing how many Egyptians were out there, since they were well established in hiding points, but the volume of fire suggested a fair number.
In spite of that, his men were out-firing the Egyptians several times over. Where Egyptian riflemen needed precious seconds to reload after each shot, Britannian legionaries could maintain continuous fire. The sustained volleys forced defenders to keep their heads down, giving assault squads opportunities to advance.
The fifty-fourth finally got into position, moving through the maze of side streets, emerging behind the eastern buildings where Egyptian marksmen had established positions. The sudden appearance of Britannian rifles at their rear threw the defenders into confusion. Some tried to reposition to meet the new threat, others attempted to escape through interior passages.
Across the plaza, a squad from the twenty-third breached a doorway, their sergeant leading with a fin-shaped grenade. An explosion blasted through the building, followed by the rapid fire of lever-action rifles as the legionaries cleared each room. Smoke poured from broken windows while defenders stumbled into the street, only to meet concentrated fire from other squads.
His men began to clear building by building. Aelius coordinated the assault through his tribunes, maintaining pressure on multiple fronts while preventing his men from advancing into prepared kill zones. Each structure required careful assault, grenades to clear fortified rooms, followed by close combat with bayonets and rifle butts.
There was a particularly fierce engagement in a three-story structure where Egyptian marksmen had dominated one corner of the plaza. Two squads from the twenty-second approached from different angles, one going up a neighboring building and jumping from one roof to the other while another breached the ground floor. The defenders, caught between converging attacks, fought for all they were worth.
Rifle fire erupted from the building’s interior as legionaries and Egyptians engaged at point-blank range. Windows exploded outward from grenade blasts, sending fragments of glass and stone into the street below. A defender appeared at a second-story window, rifle raised, only to be cut down by crossfire from squads positioned across the plaza.
The tide turned gradually as Britannian firepower overwhelmed the Egyptian positions. Each cleared structure became a stronghold, extending Britannian control deeper into the city.
Hours passed in continuous fighting. Aelius moved between his tribunes, coordinating attacks and ensuring wounded men were evacuated to secured areas. The urban battlefield demanded different tactics than open-field engagements, close coordination between small units, careful use of grenades in confined spaces, and constant awareness of multiple firing angles.
A messenger reached his position as the afternoon wore on. “Sir, Tribune Ailpein reports the northern sector is secured up to the government buildings on the south side of the plaza.”
The city was far from theirs while heavy enemy sightings continued in the southern third of the city and along the western and eastern portions. His men had adapted well to urban warfare, using their superior weapons and training to overcome a well-prepared defense. The Egyptians had fought harder than expected, showing determination and tactical skill.
“Move our command post inside the government building and begin the push into the southern half of the city.”
The government building provided an excellent command position with clear views across Memphis’s southern approaches. Runners established communication lines to his cohorts while the wounded were being moved to secure areas in the northern sector, and ammunition wagons rolled through the captured streets to resupply the forward positions.
He was just passing his first orders when a tremendous roar erupted from the southern edge of the city.
Thousands of voices raised in unison, Egyptian battle cries rolled across Memphis. Aelius rushed to the window. Beyond the buildings, a massive force charged into the city from the south, where it must have been concealed, waiting to reinforce or counterattack. Egyptian infantry poured through the streets.
The enemy had been waiting. While his scouts had focused on the obvious defensive positions, an entire army had remained hidden outside the city.
His forward positions retreated from the threat. Cohorts, spread along the main avenue in defensive positions, opened fire immediately, but they were spread throughout the city, tied up in house-to-house fighting.
Britannian squads found themselves under pressure from multiple directions. The situation was deteriorating rapidly. His men were giving ground, falling back from positions they had fought hard to secure. The retreat wasn’t panicked; his tribunes maintained good order, but the momentum had shifted to the Egyptians’ favor.
Street fighting erupted at close quarters where retreat routes converged. Britannian squads found themselves trapped in narrow alleys as Egyptian infantry closed from multiple directions.
He needed something to change the situation, and quickly. His own artillery had started to drop fire on the southern side of the city, but he didn’t have enough pieces to change the tide.
Aelius moved to his runner. “Get in contact with Admiral Valdar immediately. I need him to fire on the southern third of the city. Enemy units are entering in force and we need heavy bombardment to give us a fire break and time to counter.”
The runner dashed out of the building to the signal station set up on a roof far in the rear.
Aelius counted the seconds, knowing that naval gunnery required time to calculate firing solutions and train the big guns onto land targets. But his cohorts needed help, and they needed it quickly.
The first naval shells screamed overhead with a sound like tearing cloth. Massive explosions erupted in the southern districts as rifled cannon sent their projectiles deep into the city. Buildings collapsed in clouds of dust and debris while the concussion of the blasts rattled windows throughout Memphis. The bombardment continued in a steady rhythm as Valdar’s gunners also worked their pieces.
Egyptian formations scattered as the naval fire disrupted their formations. The coordinated advance faltered when shells demolished buildings where reserve troops had been waiting. Aelius watched through his glasses as the enemy assault lost its momentum, officers struggling to reorganize their scattered units under the falling artillery.
But the pressure on his forward positions continued. Egyptian infantry, who had already committed to the assault, pushed forward despite the bombardment falling behind them. The naval fire helped prevent reinforcements from reaching the front, but couldn’t stop the forces already engaged in the street fighting.
The twenty-second cohort fell back another two blocks. Aelius could see his men retreating through the streets, their gray uniforms distinct against the pale stone buildings. They moved in good order, squads covering each other as they abandoned positions, but the steady withdrawal threatened to become a rout if the pressure continued.
Dust clouds rose from the southern sector where naval shells continued to impact.
The bombardment created a barrier of fire and debris that isolated the attacking Egyptian forces from their support elements. But ammunition was limited, and the ironclads couldn’t maintain this rate of fire indefinitely.
Thankfully, something did show up that changed the tide of the battle as horns sounded from the north, from his rear. Aelius turned to see the banners of Prince Cormac’s legion entering the city.
Their reinforcements had arrived. Five thousand fresh men on the double march to the front lines.
Cormac himself appeared at the command post within minutes, his sword belted at his side and his uniform bearing the dust of hard marching.
“What’s the situation?” Cormac asked without preamble.