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Legatus Lucius Alden
The useful Scholar
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The sword's hum came from the weapon rack. A soft buzzing sound reacting to the sounds of the wind blowing on the closed windows wooden shutters. Lucius turned his head to listen to the exotic music and felt Faye’s warm body stir next to his, a hand resting on his chest comfortingly.
“You’re awake,” his wife murmured, her breath caressing his left ear.
“Thinking of the future,” Lucius admitted.
“Does it always hum like that?”
“Not always. Not the same.”
“Sounds like a lullaby,” Faye whispered. “Put Roderick to sleep right away at least and for that I’ll be forever grateful to it. Gods, I felt less tired campaigning wit you whilst pregnant.”
“Mmm. You are doing an admirable job Faye.”
“You got me trapped Alden, what else am I going to do now? I can’t think of anything else than me two sweet boys,” Faye teased him with a comical pout. “The story of me life.”
Lucius pressed his lips on her forehead, recognized the familiar feminine taste of her skin and smiled.
“We both know you’re far from trapped, or without influence. Poor Sula is at the end of his wits with Martha.”
“See, I told ye she was trouble. Them fake northern girls are like that,” Faye chuckled, fingers tracing the lines on his muscular chest.
“Fake because she’s wearing a dress?”
“Don’t play the fool wit me Lucius,” Faye warned him and gasped when he turned and trapped her under his arms, putting his weight on her. “I yield milord,” she said smiling. “Ye can punish me now.”
“I’ll never do,” Lucius said throatily and the sword’s humming changed, its notes sharper steering him away from his lewd intentions much to Faye’s disappointment.
“Great,” Faye murmured when he let her go and put both his legs down the right side of their bed.
“You have my heart Faye Alden,” Lucius told her truthfully. “I hope my countrymen return the love I’ve received from yours.
“Aww, darn it,” Faye cursed and slithered naked towards him over the covers. “You romantic beautiful specimen, me broth’r tried to kill you, both of them. Plenty other northmen did. As for the other part, they are gonna hate me and you know it.”
“They better keep it to themselves.”
“Stop it,” Faye murmured. “I knew our time here was limited. I wish I could keep you all for meself, but I can’t. Fuck!”
Lucius stooped to kiss her passionately and stop her cursing. It almost led them to another round of lovemaking afore they both calmed down.
“I need my head clear,” Lucius apologized.
“Just wait for your son to wake up again and you’ll have plenty of headache through no fault of yer wife,” Faye grinned, but then her flushed face turned serious. “What’s on yer mind?”
“What did you think of Galio’s kin?” Lucius probed her.
“Made the old man happy seeing him,” Faye retorted. “But I was expecting something manlier, ehem… I’ve known girls with more muscles than him.”
“He’s a historian Faye, worked in a library,” Lucius noted.
“What’s that first thing?”
“A historian writes down events that happened in the past, like lets say… our campaign against the Vanzons. He finds more about it based on witness accounts, written memoirs, or his personal study of the era and each event. His retelling of what happened of course is sometimes biased, or even inaccurate.”
“So like a common bard, but without the music?” Faye queried with a frown, only half-jesting.
“Haha, now that sharp barb would have you murdered in a library,” Lucius warned her smiling.
“You don’t trust him.”
“He works for Lord Nattas.”
“Is he a big Lord then?”
“I don’t believe Storm holds a title, but it wouldn’t surprise me if he did by now.”
“Isn’t he a friend of yours? Took a risk to return yer father’s sword me thinks,” Faye countered.
“Storm is a creature of the court,” Lucius told her. “He owes everything to my father, but he’s far from a saint and he lusts for things above his station. A lot of stuff don’t make sense.”
“All people lust for stuff above their ‘station’ Alden.”
“Not all people are as capable as he is, nor half as ruthless. Storm would never risk his position, unless he’d been cornered.”
That position slipping through his fingers.
“Or for a friend,” Faye noted looking at him.
“Even for a friend.”
“You could find out more.”
“Galio wouldn’t like me questioning his nephew,” Lucius admitted.
“Galio would never question an order from you and he doesn’t have to know,” Faye countered. “You know that Lucius. You just don’t like it because you respect Galio. They are not the same man and you owe nothing to this sneaky fool. Fuck him and fuck this Lord Nattas, they should come clean. Curse ‘em to all Hells, they should all come groveling an’ ask for yer forgiveness for wronging you!”
“Why, my wife is ruthless enough to walk in a real court, but for the matter of cursing like a sailor,” Lucius replied with a frown.
“Do noble southern girls not blaspheme in bed milord?” Faye taunted him and there was that gleam in her eye Lucius had come to recognize as a line he shouldn’t cross. Faye’s biggest fear was her humble origins.
“They avoid it in court Red,” Lucius replied. “But you’re right, they do it in the corridors and when they gossip. When they’re drunk and in whispers at dinners.”
“And in bed?” Faye probed.
Lucius nodded with a clench of his jaw. “In bed as well.”
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“Lesia asked again for the release of Baron Palma,” Trupo continued reading from his reports, a couple of hours later. “His family is offering a thousand gold coins and two thousand in silver and they proposed Kadrek, as a neutral spot for the meeting.”
“That’s a lot of coin for a Baron, is the family getting a loan for this?” Lucius asked him, everyone present frowning. “They are gentlemen. We will refuse again,” he continued not wanting to dwell on it further. “The Baron will be returned from his ‘northern vacation’, when the King agrees to a written recognition of the status quo. Now anyone here understands why they are satisfied to slow walk this haggle?”
“They intent to strike against us,” Galio said, standing next to his nephew. The young man watching their morning meeting in silence.
“Or make us think they are,” Lucius said. “But they are also looking for the opportunity to slip some of their agents through to Kadrek given the opportunity. Check on Sula’s forces. No deal, the Baron stays put. Let’s put an agent on the merchants that opt to stay longer than necessary there. Make it obvious.”
“Aye Legatus,” Trupo said and gathered his papers. Lucius glanced at Ramirus to give him the okay to proceed with their little plan and the LID officer stood up with a smack of his lips.
“I have another missive from Sula,” he started. “He asks Macrinus for assurances on his previous orders. I held it from him, so we can comb through the details first.”
That part of it was true of course, as while Lesia was fine with waiting for the right opportunity to strike, Lucius wasn’t as inclined to give it to them.
Move the pieces, his instincts were telling him.
But don’t tell anyone about it.
“Macrinus will do what he’s told,” Galio intervened abruptly. “Sula as well, end of discussion.”
“You should check it yourself Tribune just the same,” Lucius said. “Then deliver it to the Governor and make sure we are all on the same page here. Ramirus you can go with the Tribune.”
Galio stood up, his legion armour rustling and turned to his nephew, a signal they needed to leave the meeting. Lucius stared at the quiet man intently.
“Mister Sirio,” he said and Galio stopped to glance his way, Sirio’s reaction a composed smile. “I heard you were working in the Library of Alden, afore transferring to Cartagen.”
“That is correct my Lord,” Sirio replied hauntingly unable to control himself. “I was restoring and sorting through the ancient texts in Alden. A very diligent task.”
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“Anything of importance discovered?” Lucius asked him with fake interest. “It was a fascinating topic of discussion in my youth.”
“Why, actually there are plenty of details in the old texts that shed light to the histories,” Sirio replied, the probe on one of his passions and Lucius’ interest deeply gratifying to him.
“I shall keep your nephew for a tad Galio. Talk of past events and secrets hidden in ancient texts,” Lucius told the expecting Tribune casually and Galio grimaced, but nodded.
“Of course milord, I will straightened out this deal with Macrinus,” he said with a salute and after giving another worried look at the pleased Sirio turned around and walked out of the meeting, followed by the acting inconspicuously Ramirez.
Lucius waited for them to leave the hall and then turned to the young historian, Sirio dressed in a warm doublet under his heavy leather coat, with not a hair escaping his well-combed head.
“Sit down mister Sirio,” Lucius said gruffly and pointed at the chair nearest to his side of the conference table. Faye who was watching from a smaller table, her ear on Endariel’s richly adorned handle, chuckled at the historian’s startled reaction.
Sirio managed to find the chair quickly though and calm himself down.
He gets spooked easy, but recovers equally fast, Lucius thought impressed.
Why?
“This is my wife, lovely Faye Alden,” Lucius said and Faye put the exotic sword down to return the affectionate term with a bright smile.
“My Lady, a pleasure,” Sirio blurted with a sharp bow of his head.
“Hang in there kid,” Faye mocked him and Lucius all but rolled his eyes at the inopportune timing of her jest.
“So, how did you get the job?” Lucius asked the historian to get them back on track and Sirio allowed himself to relax, perhaps expecting a more difficult query.
“My mother had petitioned the governor seeing as she was a widow,” Sirio said. “I believe the name popped out of a report and someone brought it to the King’s attention.”
“How fortunate for you. A lot of scholars wanted the job I presume.”
Sirio of course had a family name well-known to academic circles. His story made sense.
“They did and it was a stroke of luck, but perhaps my uncle following you my Lord, played a role.”
That part was prepared to strengthen his reasoning.
It also made sense though.
“Enough to earn you the spot in Cartagen? That was a quick promotion to the top,” Lucius asked him. “Or was that Lord Nattas’ doing?”
“I think that was Lord Nattas my Lord,” Sirio admitted with a blush.
“How did you impress him?” Lucius asked with a thin smile. “Storm is not the library dwelling guy. If I had to guess, I’d probably put him at the very bottom of a long list.”
Sirio grimaced unsure. “Some of it was me helping him with a task the late King had given him.”
Vague mister Sirio. You didn’t expect me to question it further?
Are you serving me a well-prepared script?
“What was the other part?” Lucius queried and stood up from his chair. Sirio blinked and stared at his hands. He’d set them both on the table.
“I’m married to his daughter Lord Lucius,” he finally said and Lucius frowned not expecting it. In fact he had to ask again, just to be certain he’d not misheard him.
“Storm has a daughter?”
Out of wedlock?”
“He does. It was a… chance meeting,” Sirio said casually. “One could say another stroke of luck my Lord.”
Lucius rubbed his face and glanced at Faye, afore asking to give himself time to sort through the unexpected news. “You favor mead mister Sirio? I’m afraid staying in the north has widen my own tastes a bit.”
“I’m always eager to try new things,” Sirio said, now recovered and surer of himself.
Hmm.
“Gripa,” Lucius ordered his unseen Aide. “Bring us a couple of cups if you please.”
“I’ll give him a helping hand,” Faye announced and got up to leave them alone.
“Thank you dear,” Lucius said. He walked to the map table, situated on the south wall of his hall and stared at it thoughtfully for a moment. Sirio fidgeted nervously on his seat behind him, the sword’s humming probably unnerving him.
“It sings when exposed,” Lucius told him. “Quiet’s down when it’s sheathed.”
“A marvelous weapon,” Sirio commented. “I’ve seen it in action.”
“Mmm. You are a lucky man,” Lucius said and turned to look at him. “Endariel was rarely outside the King’s hand, or his adjutant. Yet it appears this time it found itself in the hands of Lord Nattas and yours.”
Sirio pressed his lips tight, an attempt at swallowing that probably failed.
“How did it happen mister Sirio?” Lucius asked him, although he knew the historian had a story prepared for this query. Something to make sense, but how could it?
“A young aide carried it after the battle,” Sirio started nervously. “When the king… perished, the aide had it on him still.”
“Murdered,” Lucius corrected him solemnly.
“The lords present wanted to nominate a successor and in the tumult someone assaulted the young man. Injured him gravely.”
“I’m listening,” Lucius said seeing him sweating.
“Lord Nattas got his hands on it and hid it to stall the other lords,” Sirio continued nervously.
“Miranda assumed the regency, the realm had been secured until my return, why keep it hidden?”
“Precaution my Lord,” Sirio said. “Not everyone favored you. The Lords cast a vote and Prince Jeremy won it. Queen Regent had to step down.”
No she didn’t.
Unless the things got too bad for her, but how could they?
Were the rumors true?
Lucius kept his tempers checked. Sirio had attempted to dodge his question. “How did Lord Nattas got his hands on my father’s sword mister Sirio?”
“He was near when it happened my Lord.”
“Did he have the young aide killed?” Lucius grunted.
“Of course not, the matter was investigated my Lord. It was a mistake caused by a nervous palace guard.”
“Was he found?” Lucius asked.
“Killed on the spot,” Sirio said puffing out.
“By whom?”
“I don’t believe, I know more my Lord,” Sirio croaked.
“You either do, or you don’t,” Lucius told him and sighed. “Anything in between is a concocted lie mister Sirio.”
“My Lord I’ve told you the truth! You can verify my words easily,” Sirio protested and pushed himself to stand up from his chair, but Lucius cut him off with a wave of his hand.
“Truth needs no servants to be believed,” Lucius told him. “Why is Lord Nattas not in the Royal Council meetings?” his question catching Sirio unawares and he all but went down on shaky legs.
Remarkably the young man managed to calm himself down and assume a sincere look.
“Helping you my Lord,” he told Lucius. “Comes with great risk. I believe Lord Nattas is paying for it.”
Hmm. He’d be dead more like. Too much time has gone by. The fact he isn’t, means he has something on them and a deal was struck. It has nothing to do with me, although it rings true.
Everything Sirio had told him ringed true, but Lucius felt the young man was lying through his teeth.
“Was the matter of the daughter the reason?” He asked going another way.
“My Lord?”
“She’s a bastard,” Lucius snapped. “Born out of wedlock. Was Storm fearing exposure?”
“He had her legitimized my Lord. The late King knew of her,” Sirio blurted out.
“Who is her mother?” Lucius asked him. Perhaps it was a matter of revenge, he thought. If Storm had a passion it was women.
“A whore,” Sirio told him without batting an eyelash.
Ah.
“You’ve done work for Lord Nattas mister Sirio,” Lucius said tiredly.
“I have my Lord.”
“Has he found out who had my sister killed?”
“He’d given his findings to the late King,” Sirio replied. “Most of the perpetrators were punished my Lord. That’s all I know.”
Lucius nodded. “Is Scaldingport one of those involved?”
“Not to my knowledge. The suspects were fanatics, but they had help from the inside.”
“Give me a name mister Sirio!” Lucius blasted him.
Sirio gulped down, turning pale in the face. “Magister Gordian my Lord.”
What?
“The Priest of Uher?” Lucius grunted. “He confessed to it?”
“He did,” Sirio replied looking sick and on the verge of collapse. “In writing my Lord.”
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Lucius sighed and tasted the sweet drink an hour later. Sirio had departed in the meantime leaving him without anything more of substance. The fact that the priesthood had Silvie killed had shaken him.
“What do you think?” he asked Faye that was playing with a flushed Roderick. His son busy pulling at the cords of her leather top.
“He’s scared to make a mistake, but what he said made sense for the most part. Your people are not very civilized Lucius, for all yer lofty words,” she told him. “You’ve seen him up close though. Eyes don’t lie, the seers say.”
Lucius grimaced at her superstitions. “His eyes are haunted. He gets this shocked look at times, as if he’s traumatized, or knows something that will have him killed.”
“Yet he aspires to put everything in writing?”
“Not everything written is the truth,” Lucius replied.
“You will win him over,” Faye assured him. “Or you can send him back. He barely survived the first time. There’s a solution there.”
“Faye you are not that cruel,” Lucius said. “Think of the old man.”
“I ran with brigands afore I met ye,” Faye reminded him. “And that old oak is as sturdy as they come.”
“Not on this matter. He’s proud of him like a father,” Lucius countered. “How come a brigand leading lash like you fears of the south?”
Faye got up and walked towards him. She placed Roderick on the table in front of Lucius, the baby going for his papers curious.
“Never said I feared it,” Faye told him. “But I worry about what it will do to you. To us. Nothing I’ve heard today, eased my worries. I may have yer heart, but your mind dreams of Regia.”
Faye my northern lash has poetry in her, he thought moved at her cute outburst.
“Let me work on those worries,” Lucius murmured affectionately, but she pointed at the wandering Roderick instead.
“What will ye do with him?”
“Our son?” Lucius asked and retrieved the gasping baby from the edge of the table.
“Ah,” Roderick said drooling over his armoured chest.
“The scholar,” Faye replied with a smile.
“He’s useful,” Lucius said and gave Roderick his pendant to play with. “I asked Ramirus to take him under his wing.”
“What need do you have of a historian?” Faye asked.
“We won’t be waging war forever wife,” Lucius replied honestly. “It may not seem like it now, but learned people are needed.”