"We've no food, Vespasian!"

A dire plea sure, but Vespasian was glad not to be called Worm for the first time on the journey. A dozen people heard the quip, yet now the whole Urzoth Kingdom knew him as the Worm. "Oh, yes. Have the– the– they found anything? The ones who went out to hunt?"

"Why would I say we don't have food if they had brought back something? This is why they call you that." The old woman spat back. She had known Vespasian since he came to live in the eastern Urzoth village and despite being annoyed by his peculiarities, the old woman cared for him.

Vespasian slunk away in silence. Without direction or purpose, he walked through the loaded down wagons and idle Urzoth men and women. He moved one foot then the other and kept his eyes to himself, lost in his thoughts.

"We will move before night, do not unpack and remain ready." Otto had instructed. The harshness of the words echoed in Vespasian's mind. He thought of the savage leadership of the Nu that he had witnessed from the lower ranks of their society. Though he was too young to know what the Empire's puppets, his own family, in The Bryer were like, being given away by them so easily had left Vespasian with a bitter taste. Now, he thought, the blunt and often cruel ways of the Urzoth feel oddly comforting– genuine, if nothing else. Vespasian came out of his thoughts when he reached the edge of the sprawling camp.

Brennus, Otto and the four advisors that had been seated with them in the large hut all those days ago were each on horseback a fair distance away speaking to a group of Novissime soldiers from the fort. One of the advisors, a burly man with fiery red hair turned and rode back toward the Urzoth camp

Oh, it's Titus! Oh no, they'll have me tell the general about the Nu. He's going to make me. I don't know if I can. What if the Novissime recognize me? If they know who my father was... They won't understand about the Nu. Vespasian panicked as Titus came close, but the advisor rode past him without so much as a glance.

"The king and the royal council will meet with the general." Titus bellowed when he had reached the center of a large crowd of Urzoth. "We will find out where to hunt and let them know of the approaching horde. It should take no more than a few hours. The general said if you want to trade or buy goods from the fort you can. Their merchants will come to us. But do not enter the gates! Also," he shook his head in disgust, "their soldiers will come take our weapons. Obviously we don't want any issue during this, so put everything in as few wagons as necessary and deliver them without a problem. Have it ready before they come! We will work out their return while speaking with the general." Titus did not address the protests from the Urzoth as he rode back to the king. Vespasian was relieved, though with a degree of disappointment at being completely overlooked.

The main citadel of Fort Annius towered above its outer stone walls. The walls themselves would have been the tallest structure most Urzoth had ever seen. Brennus, Otto and the advisors had gone inside at the height of the sun and now the sky had begun to color with the onset of the cold night. Vespasian had set a fire and sat with the old woman. He watched the dark shadow of the walls crawl over the Urzoth camp.

"At least it's something." The old woman snarled. With two stubby fingers she tore a piece of mold from the hunk of hard bread Vespasian had given her and tossed it into the small fire. "Won't be much without meat though." She tore at the bread with her teeth and chewed as she spoke. Vespasian took the woman's grumbling the same as he would have received a sincere thank you. He poked at the fire with a long stick. After a few pokes, he found the courage to finally ask. "I forgot your-"

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"What have you to trade then?" The shout of a Novissime man interrupted Vespasian. The man was so enthusiastic, with a performative tone, that Vespasian dropped the stick and turned. He could see the man standing on the back of a wagon.

"We've got nothing to trade, snake! You've taken it all!" The crowd shouted back.

"Oh, come now! I offer meat and you would turn me away! Surely you have something to offer?" Vespasian crooned his neck. "Ok! Alright, I understand these are hard times for your fine people. If you've no goods, perhaps there are some strong, able bodied youths among you willing to work off the debt?"

"You offer us dogs for slaves!" The crowd hissed, ready to pounce on the merchant. The old woman paid no mind as Vespasian stood from the fire and ventured closer to the scene. In the back of the Novissime wagon, he saw the carcuses of large dogs stacked to the man's knees. Vespasian heard the buzzing from the swarm of flies grow louder as he neared.

"I offer you good food, enough to last the night, and all I ask is the time and youthful vigor of any among you. Can we survive without each other?" The man shouted, arms outstretched in a grand display. The crowd boiled less.

"The worm!" A man shouted from the crowd.

"He's one of you. Knows horses too!" Another yelled.

"How fortunate!" The merchant turned to Vespasian. The crowd's sickening gaze was on him, too. "Perhaps he would be so generous as to offer himself to help a poor merchant and the proud Urzoth people in their time of struggle?"

Vespasian couldn't speak. He couldn't think before the crowd had thrust him toward the merchant and lifted him up onto the wagon.

"Ah, he is older than I'd like. On the small side too. But for him I'll pay. Are there any more you'd like to offer?"

No. No. Not me. I was just. What is happening? Vespasian crumbled as he looked over the desperate mob below. As he searched the faces for sympathy the merchant tossed the dead dogs out of the wagon and pushed Vespasian to its blood stained floor. The wagon was out of sight of the Urzoth camp before Vespasian knew he was shackled hands and feet to it.

***

Night crept further west. It had nearly darkened the entire sky before the old woman began to wonder where Vespasian had gone. It did not take long for her to find out.

"You sold the boy for some dead stray dogs?" The old woman said in disgust. The men were skinning and preparing their meal. "Have you come so low? What will the king do when he hears? How many others are gone?" The mention of Brennus stopped some of the men. They looked up from their work. The woman saw an evil desperation in their eyes, but she was fuming and did not heed the silent warning.

"Yeah, where is the king? They said it would only be hours and then we'd be off again." One of the men asked the others.

"The king don't stand for meetings this long." Another said.

"You're lucky he's still up there! When he hears-"

"Quiet woman!" One of the men rose and shoved her to the ground. It was no use for the old woman to fight. She tried to lift herself, resigned to retreat to the small fire Vespasian had made her.

She felt a sharp pain on the back of her head, then her face was in the dirt. Another blow struck her side. She recognized it as a kick and rolled to her back in time to see a large rock in the hands of a dark eyed man with long, filthy, twisted yellow hair. She perceived the rest of the blows, but did not feel them. Then she was gone.

"The Novissime are an evil bunch. My guess is the king is already dead. They're probably sending for the legion to come crush us." One of the men said.

"It'll be easy for them. They've taken our weapons and starved us." The men continued to prepare their meager feast.