> 4thLegion*
>
> (Abbreviated | IV LEGIO, Brazen Fourth, IV-LG)
>
> Dictum: Triumph beats Infamy
>
> Solem Rubrum Mons | Bronze and gold sign representing a red sun emerging behind a black peak (Comparable emblem to the City of Demames, but for the coloring)
>
>
>
>
>
> Organizational chart
>
> -Summer of 193NC, during the siege of Tollor-
>
> Overall strength ~3782*
>
> (Legio general staff not included)
>
> ~2800 legionnaires,
>
> ~982 other units
>
> (350 cavalry, 180 ranger/scouts, 200 slingers, 220 engineers, 32 medics)
>
>
>
> Legatus Legionis | Nonus Sula (Demames – His father was second cousin to Duke Paulus Sula of Demames. One of the four more influential officers in Lucius Army, some would argue the most influential, but not everyone agreed.)
>
> Aide de Legatus, Prefect (General Staff) | Pete Dumont (Demames. The Prefect was Nonus Sula’s closest friend and advisor.)
>
> Prefect | Harrison Jacobred (First non-Lorian senior officer, his family a cadet branch of the Redmonds’ of Kadrek, founded by the Duke’s younger second cousin Jacob. A political appointment.)
>
> Prefect | Rufius Valens (Prefect Declan’s younger brother that got promoted in his place after the latter was killed in Maiden’s Wedding. Rufius had sailed for Kadrek immediately upon receiving word from his late brother. The Baron was ‘unaware’ officially of his offspring whereabouts, the appointments revealed after Lucius entered Cartagen. The reason given the distance involved and the Fourth’s participation in a different theater in the war. Gold Phalera recipient for his spirited defense of the walls during the siege of Pascor.)
>
> Prefect (of engineers) Isaak Boston (Lesia. A decorated officer.)
>
> LID officer (Centurion rank) | Hugh Bolton. (Kadrek- Late Rolo’s cousin.)
>
> LID Sergeant Rob Zerou (Yepehir)
>
> Optio (of Cavalry) Roger Bailey
>
> Quartermaster | Sulpicius Scrofa (also Keeper of the purse)
>
> Solem Rubrum Mons Signifer | Duc Gratian (Centurion Quintus’ second cousin)
>
>
>
> First Cohort
>
> (ICH-IVLG)
>
> (Moniker the laconic ‘Triumph’. Sula’s personal red and black Demames banner, embroidered in gold at the corners of the square.)
>
> Strength 850 legionnaires*
>
>
>
>
>
> First Century
>
> (ICN-ICH-IVLG)
>
> Gold Standard of a painted red sun
>
> (Monikers ‘Them Crimson Banners’, Sula’s Guards)
>
> 400 Legionnaires (The vast majority of the century were awarded the golden Phalera after their heroics at Stad River, 2/5 of them posthumous. The unit doubled its size with the addition of Anorum’s cohort in early summer 192NC)
>
> Centurion (Primus Pilus) Paulus Didicus (Decorated officer)
>
> Decanus Derio Papus (First Maniple) (Decorated Legionnaire)
>
> Decanus Baro (2nd Maniple)
>
> Decanus Trebius (3rd Maniple)
>
> Decanus Avienus (4rth Maniple)
>
>
>
> Second Century
>
> (IICN-ICH-IVLG)
>
> 150 Legionnaires
>
> Centurion Lar Montaus
>
> Decanus Badi Littera
>
>
>
> Third Century
>
> (IIICN-ICH-IVLG)
>
> 150 Legionnaires
>
> Centurion Sissena Draco (A distant kin to Baron Draco)
>
> Decanus Varo Bellator (A decorated minor officer. Cited for misconducts several times.)
>
>
>
>
> Fourth Century
>
> (IVCN-ICH-IVLG)
>
> 150 Legionnaires
>
> Centurion Publius Surinas
>
> Decanus Vala
>
>
>
> Second Cohort
>
> (IICH-IVLG)
>
> Gold Standard, a bronze plaque with the number of the Cohort in red.
>
> (Moniker, the ‘Solid’)
>
> Strength 650
>
>
>
> First Century
>
> 200 legionnaires
>
> Centurion | Opiter Carbo (Demames)
>
> Second Century
>
> 150 legionnaires
>
> Centurion | Glean Lale (Kas)
>
> Third Century
>
> Centurion | Winston Levy (Kas)
>
> Fourth Century
>
> Centurion | Gavin Page (Kas)
>
>
>
> Third Cohort
>
> (Halfostad, moniker the ‘Cultured’)
>
> (IIICH-IVLG)
>
> Strength 650
>
>
>
> First Century
>
> Centurion | Luke Whitt (Halfostad)
>
> Second Century
>
> Centurion | Jim Chad (Halfostad)
>
> Third Century
>
> Centurion | Cornelius Cropp (Unknown, probably Halfostad)
>
> Fourth Century
>
> Centurion | Willie Page – Gavin’s twin brother (Kas)
>
>
>
> Fourth Cohort
>
> (Anorum, moniker the ‘Instructors’, highest ratio of minor officers elevated from this unit after 193NC)
>
> (IVCH-IVLG)
>
> Strength 650
>
> Former training cohort of Anorum, classes of 190-192 NC
>
>
>
> First Century
>
> Centurion | Quintus Gratian (Anorum, the Signifer’s cousin. Gold Phalera recipient for his maneuvers and capture of the bridge during the siege of Pascor.)
>
> Second Century
>
> Centurion | Sextus Mellitus (Asturia)
>
> Third Century
>
> Centurion | Mael Prisca (Asturia)
>
> Fourth Century
>
> Centurion | Tarsus Zeno (Anorum)
>
>
>
> (Transferred from III Legio)
>
> Legion Slingers
>
> 200 Slingers (numbers vary due to severe casualties, 100 well-trained slingers were added in Anorum)
>
> Centurion | Joe Fallon (Nord, Maza Burg)
>
> Decanus | Drusus Thrasea (Anorum)
>
>
>
> (Transferred from III Legio)
>
> Scouts Legio
>
> ~180 Ranger-type units (A mix of mounted archers and light warriors)
>
> Under
>
> Centurion | Gerard ‘Half-Ear’ Pike (Decorated officer)
>
> ~70 Rangers + 50 scouts (A mix of Nords, Lorians and Half-breeds)
>
> + 50 Nord warriors, ‘Marlene’s Brutes’ (lightly armoured with axes and swords)
>
> Under ‘Ugly’ Marlene Lake (only unit led by a female, mostly men from Gerard’s Raiders)
>
>
>
>
>
> Legio Cavalry
>
> Around 350 horsemen (overwhelming majority from Sovya, mainly Halfostad)
>
> -150 Medium Cavalry under
>
> Optio (of Cavalry) | Roger Bailey (Halfostad)
>
> Decurion Ville Hunt (Halfostad)
>
> -50 Heavy Cavalry & 150 mounted Karls under
>
> Sir (later Baron) Norman Gatrell (Moniker ‘Whitebark Knight’. Known Gatrell family from Yepehir. An excellent cavalry officer, knight and nobleman. Was mentioned in the Dailies despite not being in the Legion’s roster. A rare praise.)
>
> The Yepehir nobleman served as Lady (later Duchess) Martha Redmond’s honor guard. Probably another political appointment.
>
>
>
> Legio Engineers
>
> (Isaak’s Aprons)
>
> 20 engineers plus two hundred apprentices (The IV’s engineer unit was built from scratch and was given plenty of resources in the Fourth Legion)
>
> Prefect (of engineers) Isaak Boston (Lesia – transferred from the Third)
>
> Centurion (of engineers) Reb Cable (Lesia)
>
> Sergeant (of engineers) Jack Harbor (Unknown)
>
>
>
>
>
> Legio Medics
>
> Centurion surgeon | Dottore Borealis (credentials disputed, out of the medical academy of Novesium?)
>
> Medic Dorothea
>
> + 30 other nurses and medics
>
>
>
>
>
> *Around two thousand five hundred civilians, merchants, medics, carpenters and smiths, following in the supply train. Twenty Scorpios, later thirty-five (the Sula historically favored the deployed of war machines in large numbers), four Catapults plus a prototype ‘Deliverer’. The classified weapon probably a copy of the archaic pre-Reinut Issir design. The IV Legio had almost five hundred horses and various mounts, due to its larger than usual cavalry element, mostly drawn from Duke Redmond’s troops. The IV Legio spent most of 193 involved in Maiden’s War aftermath and Duke Dolf Van Calcar’s campaign against ‘the Crabs.’
----------------------------------------
----------------------------------------
Legatus Nonus Sula
The Siege of Tollor
Part I
-Stubborn Crabs-
----------------------------------------
----------------------------------------
> Duke Dolf Van Calcar, after winning at Pascor marched down the coastal road through Naossis’ Skirt Forest and took over Hoff’s Tower (he swiftly renamed the castle as Dolf’s Tower), then the nearby Crabsville. Instead of remaining there, his part of the forest secured, the young Duke continued on and a reluctant but without the ability to communicate directly with Lucius, Legatus Sula followed with the IV Legio. Four months later and through the summer of 193, Dolf’s forces attacked Tollor and its new Duke Maas Hoff both from land and sea.
>
> Despite their defeat months earlier, the people of Tollor defended their city and port valiantly, while Pascor’s navy got bogged down trying to take control of the Crabs. A cluster of small islands in the Canlita Sea across from Tollor. Dolf’s inadequate forces got repeatedly thrown off the walls, the latter in much better condition than Pascor’s and he asked Legatus Sula to assist him.
>
> Sula was unwilling to commit units to the assault, but ordered his engineers to bombard the besieged city and sent patrols to the coast in order to block Duke Maas from reinforcing and supplying the defenders of the isles.
>
> More than three months later, with the rains falling and the chill of fall upon them, the front hadn’t moved significantly. Dolf was still outside the walls of Tollor, a force of rangers led by Stefan Carus had taken over Bogville at the edge of Bogbeast Marches and north of the city, but Edgefort started receiving supplies and volunteers from Badum and Tigerfall Castle during the summer.
>
> This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.
>
> The reason for it being that the Duke of Riverdor, refused to bequeath Badum to Aafke and her daughter Rena, as Dolf had brazenly proposed. While typically a male heir should have been considered first, the absence of one did offer the opportunity to Lady Aafke to claim the baronship. Anyway the souring of the relations between the two Dukes, led in Badum helping Tollor openly. The latter managed to keep control of the road towards Lotus River, while soldiers from Badum secured the village with the same name near its bridge.
>
> With Edgefort resupplied in men and materiel, Duke Maas pressed against Dolf’s forces for control of the Marshes and was able to keep the defenders spirits high despite relentless bombardment from Sula’s and Dolf’s war machines.
>
> They did manage to damage the walls though in several places and burned half the city afore the rains saved the defenders from that ordeal. Through it all, Tollor refused to give in, probably because no one trusted Duke Dolf to keep his word.
>
>
Sula’s left boot had sunk in the mud. He could feel moisture spreading from sock to foot and he had to move from his position, the rain pouring down on them relentlessly for four straight days. The waters had risen, small wayward streams coming out of the flooded marshes penetrating the forest and the mostly ruined by now outer districts of Tollor to the north of the city.
The water being what it was didn’t stop there and rolled down the shores to the walls of their camp afore pouring into the large lake. Everything was under a foot of watery mud, with some exceptions and the road was like a small river you could still cross or follow, but only if you resigned to getting soaked to the bone.
“That’s Baron Darvot and the mayor’s son that Ribar Sequer fellow,” Dumont commented, water dripping from his chin, his helm and armour gleaming at the lightings thoroughly soaked.
Sula watched the small assault team climbing the destroyed part of the wall near Tollor’s East Gates, most men slipping in the mud and rocks, afore tumbling down the four meters of elevation. The defenders using smaller hurled rocks to defend against them, keeping their ammunition for a better day.
“The machines can’t operate today,” Dumont reminded him as the Baron approached with Captain Sequer. “Keep it vague Nonus.”
Sula murmured under his breath, dripping water and his left boot thoroughly soaked and covered in mud that hopefully would wash away soon.
“That’s a pouring eh?” The Baron guffawed and looked to stand on a flat rock to avoid the worst of the mud. “It might give us an early snow this season,” he added.
“That’s better?” Sula grunted and eyed him under the rim of his helm.
“We could do with a good freeze,” the Baron replied. “But it doesn’t get as bad here, as in Brownfort.”
“Uhm,” Sula rumbled.
“So, the Duke asks whether it would be favorable to fire a couple of volleys on them to clear them off the parapets,” the Baron said casually, hands crossed behind his back. Sula considered shoving him off the rock he was standing on. The smaller Baron would tumble nicely all the way to the shores and into the lake with a bit of luck. The distance was less than a hundred meters.
“We would damage the torsions,” Sula replied what Prefect Boston had told them. “Perhaps the Duke should consider talking with Tollor again?”
“They are a stubborn lot,” Darvot replied puffing out.
“I would too in their place,” Sula retorted. “Seeing as the last time they agreed to a ceasefire your lot murdered them.”
“That’s not what happened Legatus,” Darvot protested.
“I was there Baron and you weren’t,” Sula retorted. “So I’ll trust my eyes and ears over whatever Hagels wrote in his chronicles.”
“What am I to say to the Duke?”
“Tell him to stop for the day. Wait for the weather to improve, or talk with Maas,” Sula suggested with a shrug.
----------------------------------------
----------------------------------------
Sula stood at the door of the Legion headquarters’ building, the yard of the Castrum flooded and the water covering the two steps of the raised wooden square structure. The sky above them clouded and the occasional thunderous lighting showing black clouds and no sign of the two moons anywhere.
It had stopped raining.
The humidity chilling to the bones and the soldiers suffering in their search for a dry spot to rest. He rubbed his eyes, the lights inside the walled yard otherworldly, the many small campfires afore the tents giving a thick white smoke that added to the lake’s usual misty waters near the Crabs.
On a clear summer night one could see the distant Valeria Island from the highest rise of the Crab isles, the latter connected with Tollor via a thin strip of land that was now underwater, the locals called the Tail. Pascor Marines had landed there in the summer, but the narrow terrain favored the defenders and the navy had to evacuate them a week later.
Most of Duke of Pascor’s attacking plans have ended that way. Dolf was a good naval commander, but lacked his brother’s strategic mind despite his cunning.
“Dolf will never take the city,” he told his aide that stepped outside with a bronze cup in his hand. “Even if he does, he won’t be able to hold it. The Duke’s greed is larger than his stomach. What do you have there?”
“I savor your wine,” Dumont replied with a grimace.
“Is it any better?” Sula had received it from Martha who had stayed in Crabville with the twins.
“I'd rather drink rum. You think we’re turning into pirates?” His friend jested.
“It’s better than the water here,” Sula griped. “We have close to a hundred men sick again.”
“You would think it would be better.”
“Maybe north of here, not in the lowlands. The wells have flooded as well. All manner of shit poured in.”
“Well, if I live long enough to retire,” Dumont commented. “I won’t do it here or in Pascor for sure.”
“Aye,” Sula agreed thinking of the twins. Virgo and Jacub. Their mother as well. “Any word from Lucius?”
“There’s word he won at Oldfort. But it’s from Asturia and the Duke puts out a lot of propaganda to demoralize Ligur.”
“Ligur lost an arm during the Battle of the Turncoats. Kept on fighting. Steered the first out of trouble and brought a part of it back in Alden,” Sula replied. “He won’t get rattled.”
“Baron Scylla has reinforced him they say. Them Sabretooth lads are well trained.”
“You think Lord Ruud is helping them?”
“That’s a safe wager. It ain’t easy for him of course with Lord Anker breathing down his neck,” Dumont replied sipping at the wine. Sula glanced at the sky and spotted a bit of the moonlight coming through. The quiet yard of the Legion Camp, but for the occasional curse heard, now better lit. The pools of water gleaming. “Then again there’s word the crews have revolted in Caspo O’ Bor and took over the harbor there.”
“That sounds like a big problem for the High King.”
“Heh, most say he’s dead. Or as close to it as one can get. Rumors say his flesh melted. Who knows?”
Sula glanced his way.
“That’s a hell of a mess there. Still better than the Cofol Princess taking over,” he finally said.
“You trust Lord Anker?”
“I don’t give a shite about him,” Sula grunted. “But rules are rules. The boy is next in line, unless she can prove otherwise. Given her allies are the Crows, I’d say I’m less than convinced and more interested in Regia’s affairs.”
“You’ll get inside?”
“I want to check on the gates. Haven’t seen a patrol in a while,” Sula replied.
“You’ll have us walk through the mire?” Dumont griped, the Legionnaire standing guard by the door frowning at his words, but saying nothing.
“If you are not willing to get wet,” Sula retorted his eye on the blank-faced soldier. “Then those patrolling the perimeter might be inclined to follow yer example Prefect.”
“Vibius,” Dumont said and the soldier stood at attention. “Grab that oil lamp legionnaire and lead the way.”
“Right away sir!” Vibius said.
“I step into a bucket of turds again,” an unhappy Dumont told a thoughtful Sula. “I’m blaming you Nonus and charge a new pair of boots on the Legatus. Scrofa better not say a word.”
----------------------------------------
----------------------------------------
“Legatus!” The legionnaire snapped at attention, feet splashing in the sludge that mercifully had started retreating after the rain stopped.
Sula walked out of the gates with a curt nod and stared at the peaceful lake’s dark waters in the near distance. Then up the slope they had dragged their machines on, neatly arranged in a row to fire at the besieged city. The Legion camp was not even half a kilometer from Tollor, Duke Dolf’s even closer.
People were coming out of a couple of boats not two hundred meters from him, Oras Eye Moon sudden emergence and pale light revealing them. As if to help him see better, Nesande’s Shade Moon also appeared behind it the clouds retreating, its soft blue light making more details visible.
“Vibius,” a troubled Sula said to the guard standing a meter from his left shoulder. “Who is the Decanus of the night shift?”
“Vellator sir. Third Century, First Cohort,” Vibius replied readily. He was in the officer’s unit.
“Get him posthaste.”
“Allgods darn it,” an approaching Dumont griped looking for a rock to clean the mud off of his boots. “You’ve seen anything?”
“Boats.”
“Ours?”
Sula had no idea. “They have no lights on. Ah, there’s the patrol arriving walking slow as fuck. Grab them. Vellator also and come after me!”
“Good grief. Stay where you are,” Dumont scolded him. “Vellator!” He barked at the approaching Decanus.
“Prefect!” a disheveled Vellator responded gruffly, his young face sporting a crooked healed sword cut on the right cheek half-covered by the helm guard.
“Gather the men from the gates and follow after us,” Dumont told him. “You have thirty seconds. Twenty-nine,” Vellator blinked but ran as Dumont kept on counting down and raised the guards with loud yells.
It made the men who had come out of the boats redouble their efforts to reach the slopes. They are going for the machines, he thought and slapping Vibius' helm started trotting that way the legionnaire following him.
A moment later, two Maniples of the 3rd Century came after them as the alarm was raised inside the sleeping camp.
----------------------------------------
----------------------------------------
Sula arrived first drenched in muddy grime, hacked at one of the men that turned to stop him and cut a piece of a round wooden shield off. Vibius bodied the Tollor ranger the next moment and they both tumbled down with loud curses.
The Legatus ran to the next intruder, parried a sword slash aside and crashed on the shield with his left shoulder, the Issir gasping wild not expecting the power packed behind the burly Legatus. He retreated, raised his sword to come at him again, but a javelin thudded on his chest and sent him sprawling down as well. Sula jumped over him, boots crunching a wrist when he landed and Dumont cursing his stubborn ancestors both living and departed behind his back.
He climbed up the soft slope grinding his teeth in a mean snarl, slipped near the first catapult and almost went down, but found his footing and kicked a tall Tollor soldier hacking furiously at the machine with an axe, right at the ribs. He heard bones snapping. The man’s head smacked the large catapult’s heavy iron bucket with a loud bang, which would have incapacitated him anyway, but another turned to hack at the charging Legatus. The axe whistled an inch from his face, the unfazed Sula’s blade going for the man’s head the next moment. The ranger jerked it away spastically, but lost an ear just the same and a bit of cheek flesh.
The gory piece flew away and hot blood splashed out. Around him people yelling, bells ringing and both camps coming alive. Dumont chopped an arm off, the axe it held bouncing off of the muddy ground –which was a miracle- and got him on the knee with the flat of the blade –which was plain bad luck with a tease from Luthos. Dumont cried out in pain and Sula had to shove him away from the one-armed Tollor saboteur that came at the injured Prefect with a dagger.
A hack and the man lost another arm, this cut after the wrist, blood spraying the watery sludge and his cries of pain otherworldly. Sula grunted, then swung again opening his neck and the man was silenced.
----------------------------------------
“How’s the knee?” a tired, sweaty and very dirty Legatus asked his close aide and friend an hour later, all the saboteurs dead but for one that missed an ear. Sula remembered him from the brief scrap. You maim a man, you better remember his face, he thought with a frown.
“Fucking swollen and the bone is moving funny,” Dumont rumbled.
“Have Dottore Borealis look at it,” Sula suggested and Dumont grimaced.
“That’s what I fear the most,” he admitted pensively.
“Eh, he’s not that bad,” Sula said, but Vellator smacked his lips unsure. “How much damage did they do?” Sula snapped at him angry.
“Two catapults are out,” Vellator reported. “One damaged, but not critically.”
Turds floating in the meat soup!
“You’re an engineer now Vellator?” Sula growled. “Because for sure you’re not doing a good job guarding the unit!”
“Duke’s fleet has blocked the port sir. Don’t know how they slipped through. They killed the sentries coming out of the sea—”
“I don’t care!” Sula barked. “And I saw what happened. You want to know why?”
“Nonus,” Dumont said.
“I fucking saw them!” Sula growled irate and then grimaced trying to calm himself down. “The enemy walked in our camp almost and tickled our plaguing toes Decanus! We almost got a cock up the arse! Write him down for a punishment Dumont. Twenty lashes. First thing in the morning, to wake everyone up proper!”
“Vibius! You heard the Legatus,” Dumont grunted. “Take the Decanus away. Ah, no stay, sergeant you do it.”
Sula licked his lips and eyed the destroyed machines for a moment. The men had brought torches and were now searching the boats for any survivors lurking about. He spat down, mouth bitter, touched his chest armour that was covered in caked mud and turned to glare at the prisoner. They had given him a cloth to hold over his wound to stop the worst of the bleeding.
“I can have those machines repaired,” Sula told him gruffly.
“Not afore the winter milord,” the man replied through his teeth.
“You guys threw your lives away for this?” Sula retorted.
“The Duke’s orders.”
“Answer my query!”
“Aye, we did,” the man said. “It’s our land and we’ll defend it milord. What are you doing here?”
A legionnaire stooped over him, then swung a beefy arm back and forth. The blows coming fast and heavy.
“Halt!” Sula barked and the legionnaire stepped back, another grabbing the prisoner and setting him upright. The man’s face was swollen on top of bleeding now. Head hanging loose as he had fainted from the punches. “Wake him up,” Sula ordered and breathed out in frustration. “Bring him to the camp and tend to his wound.”
“I’ll take a horse,” Dumont said with a grimace of pain.
“I’ll walk some of the steam off,” Sula retorted.
“Most men would have none left after a bloody scrap,” his friend countered.
“Vibius,” Sula grunted. “You walk with me back to the camp. Give our legs a good workout eh?”
“Yes sir,” a tired Vibius replied, looking like he’d rather do anything else.
“For the love of Uher,” a half-jesting half-serious Dumont said on his back. “You spot something else, just call the guards Nonus.”
----------------------------------------
----------------------------------------
“What are we doing here Vibius?” Sula asked five minutes later, the walk back bringing them to the lively Castrum’s gates longer on the return than he remembered.
“Ahm. That would be assisting in the siege sir?”
“Why?”
“Lord Alden’s orders sir,” an uncomfortable heavy breathing Vibius replied. “I think.”
“Vague orders,” Sula replied, glaring at the energetic guards at the gate who saw him approaching and pretended they searched about for any mischief. They had so many lights on, the place was lit up as if it was a festival. That will eat in our supplies, he thought sourly and turned his head to bark at a lively Centurion fresh out of bed, probably Surinas given his large head and nose, to put some of the torches away.
Sula paused mid-move, Vibius stopping abruptly next to him, as he’d spotted out of the corner of his helm an unlikely group of three loitering blissfully fifty meters from the gates. Near the lake’s waters and some large rocks covered in dark blue seaweed. The guards for all their boastful fakery, had missed them apparently.
There will be a good morning talk on the morrow, Sula decided with a scowl. Straighten them up proper.
He walked there, the ground turning soft under his boots and the lake’s waves peacefully splashing at the sandy shores. The scene idyllic, if one forgets about the siege going on behind them and the moonlight reflecting on the dark surface of the waters. Pale white and washed-out blue.
“You,” Sula grunted at the armed, wearing a Pascor armour Issir standing near the other two. “What are you doing? Your camp is half a kilometer that way.”
The Issir turned his head, the man about thirty years old, to look at him. Seemed a little surprised when he recognized the Legatus of the Fourth Legion patrolling the shores at that hour.
“Milord?” he said unsure.
“We had a bit of a problem,” Sula started, his eyes on the couple picking at the algae. A girl and a boy. A young woman and a younger male. Half-Breeds, their faces familiar. “An excursion that’ll set us back,” he continued, the young woman turning to look at him with those large pretty eyes. A dark-skinned Lorian, as if her Issir side had drawn the smaller stick, while her brother had more of the latter in him. Fish Folk, Dolf had said back then. “You’ve seen anything… what in Oras hells are they doing here?” Sula asked curious.
The Issir soldier stared at the couple with a frown. “We’re visiting the lake,” he droned in a casual manner, as if Sula had met them shopping in Demames market when on leave.
“What are they doing in Tollor?” Sula grunted and the girl stood up, her plain dirty robes parting at the leg, the cut revealing no underwear underneath. “I thought the Duke left them in Pascor months back.”
“Ehm, we followed after the army,” the man said and for a moment Sula thought he was an idiot, or seriously confused. Even unsure of what they were doing there. “Then came here to visit the lake.”
“Algae came from the deeps,” the girl said in her singing voice that accent an assortment of many different ones. “The weather gave us what we couldn’t easily reach, if one knows how to use it.”
Great.
“Who gave the order?” Sula grunted eyeing the brazen island girl suspiciously. Her brother was busy sifting through the seaweed flowers as if he was looking for gold.
“No order. She wanted to come here,” the man explained furrowing his brows.
“She?”
“Leirda-Lag. So I thought—”
“Is it a crime Legatus?” She cut him off smiling, her hands making a circle in front of her belly, she then turned counterclockwise. The gesture incomprehensible. “Following your Legion?” The girl added amiably, eyes gleaming naughty as if they had just shared a small secret.
Sula had no idea what her game was.
“Little lady, I had intruders sneaking up on me in the middle of the blasted night and ruining army property,” Sula grunted angrily. “You’re too far from your isles.”
“They failed,” Leirda said. Apparently, her name was longer. Sula glanced at her silent brother. “The dark betrayed them after pretending it was their friend. Will they try again, or fall into despair?”
Sula licked his lips. “Does Dolf know?” he asked her narrowing his eyes.
“Why do you care about him? He doesn’t,” she taunted.
“Answer my plaguing query!” Sula roared in his parade voice and the Issir soldier blinked in shock stepping back.
“Look at what you did now,” Leirda said in a teasing lightly scolding manner and reached to touch the man’s hand softly. “You scared me heh-heh. Nard,” she told her brother. “That’s enough for a couple of doses.”
Sula stared in the Issir’s eyes and he saw nothing in there. The man was in a trance. What in the name of Allgods old and new, he thought and reached for his blade.
“You need to leave Tollor Sula,” Leirda said calmly stopping him. “The Wolffish’s kin campaign will end on the morrow.”
“What?” Sula grunted and glared at her comely face. Something isn’t right here, he thought, but Sula couldn’t understand it, his mind unable to focus as if he had drunk all that wine Martha had sent him.
“You’ll use Dolf’s fleet to reach Asturia. Take us along. I long to see the city again,” Leirda continued and walked near him. She wasn’t very tall, but strangely the girl could stare him in the eyes when she stopped afore the numb Legatus, as if she had grown a couple of inches mid-stride. “But then sent them back immediately for they have another job after that. You need to remember this last part or it may turn tricky heh-heh.”
“What is this crap?” Sula rustled and stepped away from her on shaky legs. “You expect me to listen to your words lass? Vibius!” he growled and Leirda shrugged her shoulders. “Take them to the camp immediately. I’ll decide about her in the morning!”
“What about him sir?” Vibius asked a little confused.
Sula glared at the silent Issir and sighed. “Leave him. Let Dolf deal with his own people.”
----------------------------------------
----------------------------------------
Dumont stared at his frustrated face half an hour later surprised. Sula grumbled under his breath and tossed his muddy boots away, then removed his soaked socks. Realizing he was covered in mud the Legatus collapsed on a chair and stared at the closed door of his headquarters.
“You intend to sleep at all? The last patrol and shift starts in ten minutes. Might as well go along with them,” Dumont teased and limped on his bandaged knee to help Sula get out of his armour.
“I caught that couple sneaking around the camp,” Sula murmured trying to make sense of what had happened in his mind. “They had told us that story about Van Calcar back in Pascor. Didn’t believe a word of it!”
“I heard,” Dumont said. He placed the armour down and gave him a clean tunic to change into.
“That lass is plenty weird,” Sula rustled. “That brother too. Sneaky, rat-faced motherfucker.”
Leirda Lag, the soldier had said and the half-breed turned her hands. The scene returning to his mind. Right becoming left, the ending turned into a beginning.
“Fish Folk,” Dumont said with a shrug. “Wow, you seem spooked. What did she say?” his aide asked him.
“She said the siege will end on the morrow,” Sula murmured replaying the encounter in his mind again.
“Hah, I wish,” Dumont replied and limped away with a groan. “I hope you didn’t pay any coin for that Nonus. More than half the camp prays to Tyeus for that. You got swindled my friend, but hey, she’s comely, in a disturbing local manner.”
“Mmm,” Sula retorted looking at his dirty hands and left it at that.
----------------------------------------
----------------------------------------
read it at Royalroad : https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/46739/touch-o-luck-the-old-realms
& https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/47919/lure-o-war-the-old-realms
or enjoy it again at Scribblehub https://www.scribblehub.com/series/542002/touch-o-luck-the-old-realms/
& https://www.scribblehub.com/series/547709/the-old-realms/
The chapters are re-edited and re-posted regularly at both places