In the spring following the Battle of Corvinna, Clodio Salveux was sitting at an inn reading over a letter presented to him by one of his associates in the court of King Odokar, it read: "In the fields of Corvinna Pianuria, outside the eminent city of Corvinna, a great battle occurred between the forces of the Longbeard King Odokar and the Magister Militum Aurestes. In a hard fought battle Arnulf the brother of the King and the general of his army; marched against the army directly led by Aurestes. The earth was laid to waste and the fields were tilled with corpses, which resembled more the sordid remains of a threshing floor, than anything resembling the human form. They fought for a day before Aurestes led a brave charge into enemy ranks and was felled by an enemy solder. It was a terrible battle of which the casualties remain uncounted, and it was only by the grace of the High Father that Arnulf seized the day."

"King Odokar at the end of winter did siege and seize the city of Rumelia. He announced his total victory against the Magister Militum in front of the senate, then in an act full of mercy deposed the boy Caesar Remus Augustus, and did adopt the child into his own house. None would claim that the king did act with anything less than benevolence to the abused child, we can only hope that the Ever-pure shall watch over the boy, and that he not be a reflection of his father. Odokar then with full fanfare, did return the imperial diadem to the Eastern Empire's capital city Basileuousa and impress upon the Eastern Caesar "that only Xenon can be the rightful holder of this Empire's Crown." Xenon in a show magnanimity did return the diadem back to Odokar claiming "that any man who can act with such grace, humility, and with respect to propriety has the right to act as the protector of this diadem."

"The citizens of the empire hold that this correspondence between the King and the Caesar, shows that the Odokar has official support to act as the protector of the Rumelian Heartlands. The Rumelians vehemently deny the office of King, but in this round-about way, have declared Odokar king-in-fact if not by name. It must be the providence of God which has made the situation so, for none could see Odokar as anything but a foreign conqueror; but the senate of the Rumelians, have acted contrary to this basic fact of nature, laud and support Odokar in word and deed. For the Rumelians who can abide nothing outside the purview of res publica, have embraced this foreign king. Odokar in turn seems to have embraced the Rumelians as his own people, and acts more the Rumelian than a proper Goss. A strange equilibrium has formed with the King recognizing the nominal supremacy of the Caesar and the Caesar recognizing the authority of the King as his nominal servant."

"We live in strange times old friend, I hope this letter finds you in good health and may the Almighty protect and keep you. your faithful friend, Brutus of Umbernium."

Clodio pondered on the consequences of the events in the letter. The Gossic King has laid claim to the Rumelian Heartlands, such an event would have been unheard of decades ago, now it stands a as symbol of times to come. If Odokar settles in the south then what will remain in the lands east of the Kingdom? The Longbeard King occupied a buffer position between the northern Danr and the far eastern Hussacks. Now there is a potential vacancy in those lands. Is this an opportunity or a tribulation? Clodio gathered his thoughts and prepared to discuss this with his cousin Theodoric. He felt between the two of them, they could create effective plans to expand and secure the Kingdoms interests in the near future.

In the training yards outside of the palace, Merovic was learning the arts of the warrior, by practicing the ancient marital art's style of "face meets the ground". Vitruvius was his instructor, with both passion and humility, taught his young master how best to handle hits from another warrior. They sparred like this for a few hours until Merovic discovered a foundational lesson in his education, that "travel and change of place impute vigor to the mind." He made himself fleet of foot and in the similitude of a squirrel, he "advanced to the rear" of a nearby tree top. There he boldly made his stand against the vicissitudes of fortune and declared most imperiously his victory in the current spar. He looked down on the impassive face of Vitruvius, who simply sneered and threw his wooden spatha at the teenager.

The flat of the wooden sword deftly struck Merovic's head and he landed on the ground with a grand aplomb. Vitruvius then gracefully acquiesced to the end of the training session, and Merovic gratefully agreed. The ex-legionary then asked: "Well young master, have you learned anything from this spar?"

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"Certainly Vitruvius, I learned that the ground is hard, the wood of the swords are hard, and you hit very hard. In the aggregate, I would conclude that being hit by any of those three things is a misery best avoided. I would also summate that sparring is hard, combat is hard, and the opponent will always attempt to hit hard."

Vitruvius smirked and then smiled genuinely as laconically stated, "Indeed young master, you have learned much."

"I had a fine teacher" Merovic rebuffed.

They stood looking at each other for a brief moment, just appreciating the beating that the teenager suffered, Merovic clucked his tongue and sighed. He was enduring the training with all the stoicism that he could muster; all boys of the tribe must learn how to fight, and those of noble upbringing must learn how to fight well. He was a family member of the current king so he had to fight well on his own and in a team. He understood the necessity of the practice, but he did not enjoy the process. He was fortunate in that he wasn't learning how to fight from scratch, but his past life habits of fighting, were interfering with his ability to learn combat from a systemic approach.

Everything he learned in the past came from direct experience of fighting, so he internalized a handful techniques and behaviors that were strongly instinctual. He wasn't martial arts master but he was incredibly vicious and desperate when he fought, and that attitude kept him alive to an old age. He would bite, claw, and strike sensitive parts of the human anatomy with no regard for art or flare. The direct inspiration for his original martial behaviors came from a long string of beatings and attacks from local gangs, malicious youths, and psychopaths who liked to prey on the homeless. This gave him an edge in his enthusiasm and dedication while learning but he lacked a crucial patience required for mindful combat.

Vitruvius seemed to sense this dissonance in his behavior, and decided to teach him patience and technique by beating it into him, rather than wasting time by explaining it in words. Passerby muttered and gossiped in low tones that the boy was being mistreated and abused by his chosen instructor. He neither confirmed nor denied those rumors, and simply played the faithful and diligent student. This only seemed to fan the flames of more strange rumors about the teenager. However, all of the spars and training were gradually showing a positive influence on his ability to fight, he was getting quicker and smarter when drilling and practicing.

"Vitruvius, I've been wondering this for awhile now. Why are you using the longer spatha while I am using this shorter lead cored gladius? are you intentionally making my training harder?"

"One, its to teach you how to judge distance when facing an opponent, if you train to use a shorter weapon, you will better learn how to gage timing and opportunities to strike. I am using the longer weapon to train you in spotting both the advantages of timing and to ingrain an instinct in spotting the distance of your opponents swings. Two, the reason for the weighted core is to strengthen your arms and to increase the speed of your swings when using a real sword. Third, I am intentionally making your training harder, it pleases me to see you sweat.

Merovic paused on the last reason and Vitruvius continued: "Remember young master, you can spend a pint of sweat or you can lose a gallon of blood. It's cheaper to work now than suffer later."

The teen boy nodded at the sage council, then he asked his instructor: "How would you gage my progress in training?"

"You have graduated from larva to a maggot."

"That's it?"

"That's it."

"Well, at least I am improving" Merovic sighed, "On the topic of training, how are the "other" warriors handling the fire lances?"

"One of the family warriors shot off his pinky toe in a drill, and another killed a dog by accident."

"How did he lose a toe and how did the other one accidentally kill a dog?"

"The man who lost a toe thought he had wet powder after he lit the fuse; so removed the spike and tried to tap out the bell with his foot, and the powder ignited and blasted apart some rocks which chipped the bell, and a broken piece from the bell shot out and pulverized his toe. It was a messy situation. The other man was so spooked at the sudden toe injury that he forgot that he too had lit his fuse and recklessly pointed the barrel toward a sleeping dog. The dog was killed instantly, the hornbeam spike ripped through his skull, and left a messy cadaver."

Merovic groaned "poor dog, I suppose the saying can only be described as "Friendly Fire, isn't"; well I hope the owner was at least compensated."

"The owner of the dog was the man who shot his pinky toe, and he was not compensated because we paid for his treatment."

"Oh...That is certainly unfortunate."

"What will happen, will happen, young master."

"indeed"

Together, they both shared a minute of silence for the dog and the demolished toe.