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Marcus-Antonius Merenda
Scrap at Visserhaven
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> First Legion
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> Abbreviated | ‘The Legion’, ‘First’, ‘the Army’, ‘Primo de Brutis’, RCEMR-I
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> Dictum | ‘Odio Patiantur Dum Timent’*. ‘Semper Deinceps’ (archaic Lorian for ‘Ever onwards’, an expression attributed to Marcus-Antonius Merenda.)
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> Panthera Tigris | Reddish bronze, silver and gold standard representing the head of a soberly contemplating Blacktiger, very similar to Regia’s gold non-snarling banner, the royal Aldenus family crest and the 3rd Legion’s roaring Blacktiger emblem used in banners and armour. Legatus Merenda added a rectangular metal plaque containing in large gold letters the phrase Per Virtutem followed by the abbreviation RCEMR (Rex, Consul et Exercitus de Magna Regia) under the sculpted head in 194 NC, a now famed acronym in archaic Lorian that translates ‘By virtue of the King, Consul & Army of Greater Regia’ which all other Regia Legions adopted soon after.
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> Organizational chart*
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> During the series of battles fought between the great lakes (fall of 194 NC – Spring 195 NC)
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> Overall strength ~3450? **
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> -Legio general staff not included, supply train personnel not included.
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> -2800 legionnaires. (Almost 2000 of them taken from the first Cohort. The First had a mixture of a good number of veterans in their second twenty-five year term –mainly in the 1st and 2nd Cohorts, another big portion of experienced soldiers trained by Ligur in their fourth or fifth year – with the 3rd Cohort and two fifths of fresh recruits ranging from a year to a couple of months serving with the 4th or the auxiliaries.)
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> ~200 engineers and apprentices (mostly local Issirs) + 500 or 1000 workers temporarily attached. 48 Scorpios, 40 mounted. 15 catapults. 3 heavy trebuchets. 8 Scorpios and the 3 trebuchets were permanently installed inside or near Eagle’s Nest as part of the fortifications.
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> ~ 250 heavy Rangers. (The unit was formed in Eagle’s Nest.)
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> ~ 30 medium Cavalry led by the Legatus (At least forty mounted Scorpios –ten per Cohort- absorbed the majority of the usable local horses)
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> ~ 20 medics under Dottore Galerius Bulla (Cartagen)
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> ~ 150 animal-drawn wagons (Merenda confiscated over 400 horses but they were of poor quality or unsuitable for warfare)
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> Legatus | Marcus-Antonius Merenda (One of Sir Seleucid’s many legitimized bastards. Received classical education in Cartagen. The youngest Legatus ever in the history of the Legions. He was five years younger from Caesar Lucius I and seven from King Lucius III who were the other two at the time that he got promoted in 194 NC. A Quadrumvir, the ‘most skilled but also unpredictable of the bunch’ according to Sirio Veturius’ description of him and the ‘handsomest officer that ever donned the Lorica Segmentata after Tribune Trupo’ according to Tribune’s Trupo’s autobiography, who considered Merenda’s lack of a prominent mustache a big minus.)
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> Aide de Legatus | Prefect (of general’s staff) ‘the Legatus half-arm’ Domus (Gold Phalera recipient. Maimed and disfigured left arm. Transferred from the 2nd Cohort of the 3rd Legion. Promoted twice in a few months by Merenda. A self-educated lowborn, his family worked the Merenda household lands historically and the Legatus childhood friend.)
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> 1st Prefect | ‘the Brute’ Memon, (Legatus Ligur’s old aide du Camp. Promoted to Prefect by Ligur just before he ‘committed’ suicide. Represented the old guard of the First Legion. A lowborn.)
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> Optio | Damian ‘milord’ Holt (Asturia, Regia. His father Robart Holt, former director in the Bank of Trust’s main office in Cediorum, was third cousin to the Duke of Asturia and a financial advisor to King Lucius. A political appointment.)
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> 2nd Prefect Damascus (Sabretooth Castle, Regia. A young member of the old guard. His family associated with Baron Scylla.)
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> 3rd Prefect (of engineers) | Servius Celsus (Cartagen. Legendary engineer. Wealthy family of builders. Started studying architecture in Cartagen’s Academy of Arts before switching to Anorum’s Military School. The inventor of ‘mounted artillery’. Injured in the battle for the Lorian Plains but recovered. Rebuilt First Legion’s artillery in record time during the fall of 194 and laid down the plans for roads, fortifications and utility buildings –finishing a number of them himself- of what was later to become Celsus Industrial District of Eagle’s Nest.)
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> Optio (of engineers) | William ‘Niger’ Nak (Originally Issir’s Eagle. An Issir of a good family. Captain of the Guards Emil Nak’s son that served under his father. Skilled engineer and deeply religious having studied in Midlanor’s Military Academy. The first Issir with a high officer’s position in the Legions.)
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> Quartermaster | Ninius Arminus. Legion’s Recruiter, scribe and Keeper of the Purse.
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> Scribe de Legionis | Caius-Metilus Plautus (Studied under Di Cresta in Cartagen. A military historian, polymath and biographer. Famously Marcus-Antonius admitted that ‘our good Plautus is over-qualified for the job which is as rare as a pretty maiden walking through the Castrum’s gates on the morrow. Take note now mirthful gentlemen that I’ve used both pretty and maiden in my words.’)
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> Centurion of LID | Cornelius Pilatus (Alden)
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> Decanus of LID | Furius Tasius, ‘the second’. Also ‘Furious, the Tenor’ (Vinterfort)
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> Panthera Tigris Signifer | Centurion (Honoraris) Sextus Crassus (Aldenfort. Member of the old guard. Famously stepped forward and surrendered the trapped First Legion’s defenders to King Lucius at the waning stages of the Lorian Plains battle.)
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> Centurion Primus Pilus, ‘Retired’ Glycia (1st Cohort. Serving for 2nd twenty-five year term. The unit’s moniker ‘Old Mother’ also attributed to him, an affectionate term as it basically birthed all other Cohorts after the 194 NC reorganization. Very influential member of the old guard in the First Legion and Ligur’s favorite field officer.)
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> Centurion ‘Ravenous’ Indus (2nd Cohort. Transferred from the 3rd Legion. He had also served under Merenda there. Several soldiers had petitioned the King to follow the Legatus in his new command but Lucius ordered Trupo to stop accepting the transfers after a while.)
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> Legionnaires (attached) Vegetius and Cucan. (The ‘Praetorians’. Hailing from Cartagen, decorated legionnaires and members of the Legatus inner circle. Transferred from the 3rd Legion but while in the 2nd Cohort they stayed near the Legatus acting as his personal bodyguards.)
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> Centurion Reganus (3rd Cohort. Sabretooth. Promoted in fall 194 NC.)
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> Centurion Andronicus (4th Cohort. Anorum. Took over as trainer of recruits in the summer of 194 NC. Promoted to first centurion of 4th Cohort in fall of 194 NC.)
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> Centurion of Rangers Aulus Cita (Vinterfort. Unit formed from scratch in Eagle’s Nest using locals and volunteers or Cohort dropouts for various misconducts that had been stuck with the main group.)
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> Decanus Noud Kost. (Legion Rangers. Badum, had retired in Moeras. An Issir hunter/tracker and former First Foot ranger. The First Legion’s rangers were a mixture of Lorian and Issir volunteers from Moeras and Eagle’s Nest. The only unit in the legions that was armed with the Castalor-type crossbow.)
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> *Archaic expression attributed to Magnus Lucius I that translates -‘let them suffer in hate, so long as they fear us.’
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> *Archaic Lorian -‘First of the Brutes.’
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> ** At least six hundred young Issir volunteers in two spear infantry formations serving as auxiliaries. (The first Legion deploying spears at such numbers although they had been used in the past). About three hundred of Nak’s and Baron Eman’s guards forming an independent allied formation. Over five hundred civilians (sources give a number as high as one thousand) stayed back and worked under Celsus in various projects during the months preceding the start of hostilities.
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Eleventh Month of 194 NC
Early Morning
Artillery drills
Optio Nak raised his right arm to signal he was in position. He was standing next to the range-finding flags deep inside the hemp fields about three hundred meters away from the slopped ledge where the three trebuchets had been erected overlooking the flats. The massive counterweight, approximating a ton according to Celsus had been lifted and locked in position by the thirty man crew. Mostly locals that had stayed after the Baron had reluctantly issued the evacuation order for women, children and those too old or scared to assist in the effort. Over five thousand people had taken the long road turning into refugees the previous months. But enough had opted to stay clinging to hope that the Horselords wouldn’t come their way.
“Release on three!” An excited Celsus yelled and waved a flag for ‘Niger’ Nak to get out of the way.
“Isn’t he far enough?” Marcus-Antonius asked looking through the spyglass.
“We have a twenty meters gradual elevation,” Plautus commented. He was busy drawing an eloquent scene, with the muddy fields extending under them as a backdrop. “Given the bigger counterweight deployed this time, I expect the boulder to shoot over the Optio and reach four hundred meters. It’s why the Prefect of engineers is so alarmed.”
“What?” Marcus-Antonius grunted snapping his head to glare at the scribe, a hysterical Celsus jumping up down at the edge of the short precipice whilst waving his small flag right and left. His words now holding a much deeper meaning.
“Right damn it. Head right! Or left!” The engineer yelled at the nodding oblivious Willie Nak who turned around and sprinted straight back to the west towards the edge of the fields as fast as he could.
“Three!” A fanatically eager Issir apprentice boomed and released the hefty counterweight’s lever plunging in panic for the ground. The torsion swung, the arm rotating violently with a screech and the massive sling snapped with a crackling sound to hurl the heavy boulder away.
Everyone watching and there were a lot of them, the Optio’s father Captain Nak and Baron Govert Eman amongst the crowd turning silent as the large projectile traveled in the air towards the Hemp Fields. The Optio sprinting hard in the distance, the boulder closing in over him, as it first started dipping and then plunged down.
It smashed the ground with an explosion of mud and uprooted shrubberies twenty meters in front of the recoiling young Optio that found himself bombarded with pulverized material.
“Ah,” Domus observed calmly. “That veered left a bit Celsus. But overall a much better effort.”
The rattled officer of engineers managed to get up, Celsus had tripped over his feet trying to warn Nak earlier and slapped some of the dirt off of his pants with the small broken flag. “Anyone got the range at that?” He asked his apprentices after checking to make sure the shocked Optio had gotten up as well.
“Three sixty or eighty,” a young eagle-eyed Issir reported. “It landed in between.”
“Run down there and measure the flags again,” a heavy-breathing Celsus ordered and turned to look at the blank-faced Legatus. “We have the other two loaded sir. We could reload the first in half an hour and fire a full volley.”
“Let’s keep it a single shot every time,” Marcus-Antonius retorted and gave Domus the spyglass. “Give Nak a bit of a chance to make it out of there alive Prefect,” he added and smiled reassuringly at the worried locals. Mostly the lad’s father.
“I’ll need a facsimile for scale Legatus and more volunteers,” Celsus argued.
“You don’t need them. But I do. Just hit the general area and you’ll be fine. There’s no way anyone or anything survives a hundred and fifty kilo rock Celsus. It’s a matter of weight and density right Plautus?”
“Coupled with velocity Antonius.” Plautus retorted mockingly.
“You could at the very least pretend to be in the army,” Marcus-Antonius admonished him. “When in public. People will think we suck each other cocks in between ruining their fields or trying to murder their commander’s son.”
“I shall strive to be more discreet Legatus,” Plautus countered with a smirk and started gathering his brushes. “Though the first I believe they could forgive much easier.”
“Hah-hah,” Domus chuckled and then paused to glare at Vegetius and Cucan that rolled about elated. “Get the horses,” he ordered the mirthful duo.
“Yes sir.” Vegetius replied sobering up. “We were discussing the Optio’s dodging skills—”
Domus raised his clenched fist threateningly at him. “The fuck I care? Wait, I now see your ears are clogged with shit Vegetius. Maybe I should knock your head about to get them working again? How about it?”
“It won’t be necessary Prefect!”
A sober Marcus-Antonius turned to look at Vegetius. “Find me Glycia.” He ordered austerely.
“Right away sir!” Vegetius replied snapping to attention for a smart salute.
“It’ll be twenty-five minutes. The lads are working fast,” Celsus insisted hopefully and the Legatus grimaced.
“I’ll have your report later Celsus. By Tyeus, let’s hope it contains no casualties,” he rustled and then signed for Domus to follow after him.
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The Baron, a short overweight Issir of about forty years paced back and forth agitated inside Eagle’s Nest stone citadel’s small hall. His teenage daughter, Lady Oline Eman entered with a servant carrying a tray of tea and dark nicely round whole grain wafers. She brought a cup of tea to Marcus-Antonius’ table and placed it carefully near him. The Legatus watching the clad in a high-neck dress comely Issir female with teasing eyes.
“Would the Legatus favor a homemade wafer?” Oline asked in a hushed manner. “They are soaked in dark caramel syrup but left to dry.”
“I find that dark is my favorite color lately.” Marcus-Antonius replied with a pleasant grin. “Maybe you could enlighten me in the procedure milady? It sounds absolutely fascinating.”
Oline raised her eyes to stare in his face shocked. Antonius was equally shocked as he didn’t know Issir girls blushed or that it could be so visible.
He reached for a wafer, brought it to his mouth and chomped at the flavorful crunchy biscuit with enthusiasm.
“Oline that’s enough hospitality. The Legatus has eaten breakfast in the camp already, I’m certain.” Her father intervened abruptly. Antonius had, but was also feeling the starts of a craving returning. “Leave us now girl, we have important matters to discuss you wouldn’t understand.”
“Yes father,” Oline replied and stepped to perform a curtsy that amused the legion officers present. “Legatus. Officers of the First.” She added before leaving them, followed by the servant.
“Thus our morning turns ever duller,” Marcus-Antonius recited sadly. “And we now stand engulfed in the sounds of ominous distant thunders.”
“Legatus I can’t tolerate this manner of talk,” a miffed Baron Eman grunted to the surprised-looking Marcus-Antonius who sat back on his chair and glanced at the busy Plautus across from him on the table. The latter was preparing blank scrolls in order to scribble down notes for the meeting.
“Cyprian of the Aldenus, writing under the pseudonym Tacitus.” Plautus elucidated without raising his head, as he was cleaning an ivory quill’s tip. But then he did to add. “Or his young lover who he kept locked away.”
“Ugh?” The Issir Baron grunted and glared at the scribe.
“The Legatus was reciting the ancients. Long before Reinut, people could be equally naughty or deprived.”
“Hah-ha!” Domus chortled, always eager to get a good laugh out and the Baron blinked at the scribe’s rudeness.
“They are big and smaller scandals in all peoples histories,” Marcus-Antonius interposed and left it at that.
“Legatus your engineers are demolishing buildings in Moeras,” the grimacing Baron said after a seething moment. “People would expect to find their residences intact on their return.”
“Buildings can be restored,” Marcus-Antonius replied sobering up as well. “People’s lives cannot. They’ll find refuge with Lord Rik in Forestfort.”
“The De Weers are supporting the usurper. They are quite open about it,” the Baron hissed.
“I’ll trust the De Weer I’ve spoken with personally to do what’s decent Baron,” Marcus-Antonius replied calmly. Eman made to argue but he stopped the local nobleman with a dismissive gesture. “You ask query, it is only polite to give time for response.” He told him, the Lorian use of Common giving the trying to follow his words Baron fits. “We are creating a corridor between the forest and Moeras. We’ll control the trees and the village. Celsus came up with the plan.”
“You’ll trust this man? I just watched him try to murder the commander’s son!” The Baron exploded.
“I’ve been on the receiving end of Celsus’ schemes,” Marcus-Antonius elucidated. “He knows how to hurt an opponent given time and the means to do it.”
“You’ll lose both villages this way. Meertje for sure.”
“We’ll defend the flanks. You have heard the plan five times already.” The Legatus grimaced. “The castle will anchor our frontline. It stands at slight elevation, facing wide open fields that are quite the quagmire this time of year.”
Baron Eman rubbed at his nape tiredly. “You’ve taken our grain, livestock and what few horses we had Legatus. Emptied the Castle from weapons and appropriated very expensive crossbows we had purchased to use on the walls.”
“I’ve put eight Scorpios on your walls. Three lines of artillery before them at the ledge overlooking the fields. Two Cohorts will defend the slopes leading to them along Nak’s guards. If this doesn’t stop the Horselords, a couple of hundred crossbows held by shaking hands wouldn’t also.”
“You are openly recruiting Issirs,” the Baron grunted hoarsely. “I’ve seen no papers and no agreement signed Legatus.”
“The Legion makes its own contracts with each soldier and honors them,” Marcus-Antonius retorted and stood up to eye the shorter Baron austerely. “It will repair the streets, erect warehouses, and workshops. Build new roads carving out the landscape to help people and material move faster. Construct a second fishing port to replace the one abandoned and help the town depending on it not to starve the following summer. When we leave this place, Eagle’s Nest would be capable of handling twice the produce and export three times that. Hopefully you’ll have Scaldingport’s or Riverdor’s market open by then. I will put a good word to Regia’s merchants.” He paused to stare at his officers and then his face relaxed. “Think not of the future in dark colors for it helps you not. But it would surely ruin your present. King Lucius’ own words. If we succeed here Baron, your people shall return and rebuild what was ruined on sturdy foundations. The alternative is bending the knee to the Khan and then watch your daughter whisked away to be sold as commodity in Eplas’ slave markets until the novelty wears off.”
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An hour later
Glycia marched towards them followed by the three Centurions of the First Cohort and the sullen Centurion of the Second, the familiar emaciated figure of Indus.
“Legatus the First is ready to depart for Visserhaven.” Glycia reported loudly.
“The mounted Scorpios?”
“Already on the move sir. They were at Merenda’s Docks last night.”
“Couldn’t you lads have given my name to a more prominent place?” Marcus-Antonius griped. “It’s a plaguing fishing spot. Is the beach there nice at least?”
“Not really sir,” Glycia admitted rigidly. “The lake floods anything bordering it after a heavy rain.”
Marcus-Antonius stared at the angry dark sky. It was about to pour down buckets on their heads again.
“Maybe the weather will improve en route,” he told the inflexible veteran Primus Pilus. Glycia was well into his forties.
“I don’t believe it shall sir. But I’ll wager it’ll worsen.”
You ain’t getting a laugh out of this one, Antonius decided.
“I guess we’ll taste the local splendors soaked after all,” Marcus-Antonius jested much to Domus’ mirth, no one laughing harder than Vegetius until the sobering up Domus’ landed a loud slap on Cucan’s helm that rattled the legionnaire and forced his friend to stop.
“Prefect… I wasn’t the one—!” A stunned Cucan protested whilst trying to get his helm to sit right again. Domus cut him off abruptly afore Cucan had the chance to finish.
“You were standing closer.”
Morning, 30th day of the Eleventh month of 194 NC
Visserhaven, large village lake Port
North banks of Granlake
Marcus-Antonius stepped out on the roof of the two-story building at the center of Visserhaven. The sole main street, wide enough for four carriages to travel side by side and leading to the arched gatehouse. The latter along with some remnants of outer walls in the periphery part of the old city that had disappeared under the lake and buried in mud. Standing at two meters tall these parts of the ancient wall had been incorporated into the village’s houses.
A thunder crackled on the sky, but no more rain came. The downpour had lasted through the night and the morning had found the deserted village port under a foot of water. The main street turning into a shallow canal that one could easily traverse but not without soaking his boots and pants thoroughly.
“Just once,” Domus griped unable to find something to lift his spirits, not after taking a monumental tumble after stepping inside a shallow hidden crevice by the side of the street. The Prefect had found a small fish swimming inside his helm when he finally ploughed it out of the mire. He was still dripping water and had found no solace in Marcus-Antonius’ tease about the weather being fine considering what it had been like in their previous campaigns. “I’d like to visit a well-made city with coin in purse, walk on a wide dry and tiled street, then sleep in a fancy palace,” he continued scrubbing at the mire on his neck with a dirty towel using his good hand.
“We went to that place in Asturia,” Marcus-Antonius reminded him.
“That was Naossis’ temple. People lit a candle, offered prayers for surviving the war.”
“Well, I found it rather comfy to sleep in.”
“Not everyone takes the Goddess’ liturgies literally Legatus.”
“Domus,” Marcus-Antonius said looking at him meaningfully. “You are wrong my friend and quite close-minded in your bucolic thinking.”
Glycia cleared his throat interrupting them.
“If he low-key insults you, then he likes you,” Domus explained to the serious Primus Pilus. “Our Legatus is childish like that.”
“I’ll keep it in mind,” Glycia rustled and pointed at the Scorpio installed at the edge of the roof aimed down the flooded central street. “We have four inside the village, another six overlooking the road from the copse. Eighty meters, so within range.”
“You have a Century guarding the machines?” Marcus-Antonius asked.
“The 3rd.”
The Legatus nodded and glanced at the growling skies above them. “You think the waters will rise more?”
“The north shores to King’s Forest edge turn to bogs in winter,” Glycia replied inflexibly.
“Can we hold the village?”
“They’ll need to come inside and take it sir. We’ll make it very painful. Most tend to give up after enough hurting is administered.”
Welp, I got nothing else Glycia. You got everything covered it seems.
Hmm.
Marcus-Antonius shook his head and walked next to the covered with a sheet machine. Its crew saluting and stepping away. He stared across the street at the opposite roof, also occupied by legionnaires and then turned to Glycia.
“They’ll come down the Capital’s road if they appear at some point,” he told him. “Turn west and approach Visserhaven gates and the outer walls. There are twelve houses at the periphery incorporated into the old wall we have demolished. That’s your barrier. A pile of rubble. Then they will be in the village.”
“No room to deploy fancy tactics sir. The main street is the best path but we have it covered and we’ll bottle them up.”
“You might get cut off.”
“Indus is in a more precarious position. That forest goes through his line and splits the front between Meertje and Moeras.”
Yeah it does.
“Indus has the rangers with him and Damascus is covering his rear and the back road,” Marcus-Antonius replied.
“If Meertje falls Damascus might be busy protecting the flank.”
“Mm. But can they support an attack there through the thick forest?” Marcus-Antonius wondered and pursed his mouth thoughtfully. “Is that tower sturdy? Never seen an uglier structure.”
“Celsus called it a raised weapons platform that looks like a tower,” Glycia replied. “Difficult to attack up a slope with machines firing on you, a stone barrier at the top.”
“I just hope Celsus is right and that they’ll eventually come through the center,” the Legatus said and watched the legionnaires bringing down walls to create ramparts that blocked the side alleys. Everyone splashing about in the semi-flooded streets of Visserhaven. “The locals were pretty eager to abandon the place.”
“The best ground leads to the slopes through the center. Nice road, open fields and flat terrain. Celsus has an arithmetic view of any problems as in that at the end of day everything is finite in number. So he looks to bring that number down with brutal methods. You give him the opportunity to work uninterrupted and he’ll kill a lot men.” Glycia replied. “But you’ll need to make sure the new Cohorts hold in the center sir.”
“All scouts say the forest camp is too small,” Marcus-Antonius noted after a small pause. “Maybe a blocking force?”
“A small camp inside a very big forest. A long road cutting through it.” Glycia reminded him ominously.
“There’s that of course. We’ve only glimpsed at a small portion of it Glycia.”
“I expect lots of horses’ sir, which is what we lack the most.” Glycia retorted gruffly. “But horses don’t like mud or watery holes and the main road from the capital has more caltrops than pebbles sprinkled on it. So it might not be important in the end. If I’m them, I’d wait for summer. Attack over hard ground from all sides.”
Yeah. And you could be right. But this a window of opportunity and time is ticking away.
“They’ll go for the flanks first. Indus or here.” Marcus-Antonius decided and Glycia nodded as if it was to be expected. “Then attack the center hoping to overwhelm us and reach the castle’s walls.”
“Celsus’ cone might not be easy to traverse,” the unflappable Glycia rustled in an even tone.
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The Legatus walked downstairs and then out in the street where Vegetius and Cucan were waiting. Vegetius using a spear to fish in the shallow murky waters, splashing about energetically.
Marcus-Antonius paused, his new boots covered in mud and water reaching over his ankles. He stared at the slowly getting ‘fortified’ village and then turned to a frowned Domus.
“There goes our morning field trip. We’ll head back to Eagle’s Nest from the back road and then visit Indus at Moeras. Have ourselves another one…” he started feeling water trickling under his collar. “What?” Marcus-Antonius asked seeing Domus not paying attention to him.
“That’s a weird-looking horse,” the Prefect said in awe and the alarmed Legatus twisted around to gawk at the small gates. A rider had appeared under the arched gateway, three legionnaires carrying a large log over their shoulders missing him completely. Two more that were pushing a cart laden with pilums inside a broken street-facing house wall failing to notice the stranger as well, although the Decanus watching them did pause in alarm to gaze at the frozen rider.
Another rider had come up behind the first. He stopped abruptly upon seeing the seemingly abandoned village teeming with soldiers and turned his horse around still inside the gateway’s tunnel.
“SCOUTS!” The Decanus boomed and dropped his arm to his gladius already running towards the first Horselord with the bones-covered exotic saddle. The Khanate’s scout turned his horse around using his knees, torso always facing the approaching Decanus and grabbed at a curved bow while everyone at the near, including the Legatus, scrabbled to action.
An arrow stopped the Decanus. It got wedged on his sternum armour with a dull thump and shoved him back, another breaking apart on his right shoulder’s plate. Marcus-Antonius sprinted towards the hurt officer, boots hitting the water, while the two running legionnaires cut in front him armed with pilums.
The last arriving scout was already out of the gates, his friend now inside the narrow tunnel.
“AIM FOR THE PLAGUING GATE!” Marcus-Antonius roared at the two legionnaires and they finally loosed their javelin-type weapons one after the other. The Scout just couldn’t maneuver inside the narrow tunnel and got nailed by a pilum low in the back, near the kidneys. The second skewered him through the back of the neck and pushed him violently off of the saddle. It sent the hapless scout to crash on the side walls of the small tunnel like a broken ragdoll.
“Find the range! Gods darn it!” A sergeant of engineers bellowed from the rooftops overlooking the road. “Fire over the gates!”
“Bellay that order!” A heavy breathing and soaked to the undergarments Marcus-Antonius growled whilst directing the two legionnaires to go and help the hopefully not fatally injured Decanus. “DO NOT FIRE THAT WEAPON SERGEANT!”
“Sir?”
“Let him go,” Marcus-Antonius grunted hoarsely and walked to the arched gateway to find the fallen Khanate scout.
He stooped over the bleeding corpse, noticed that some of the man’s blood had splattered on the stone wall and grimaced.
“Antonius damn it,” an animated Domus grunted coming up behind him, boots thudding on the cobblestone pathway. “Now what?”
“This poor chap was a scout,” Marcus-Antonius informed him and stood up to glance at the dead Horselord’s horse that had stopped at the edge of the tunnel about four meters away. “Small quiver, a saber, a lot of supplies in those bags. Not a Horse Archer.”
“You think there are more in those woods?”
Come on my friend. Hope must follow the facts.
“Is the ground wet after the rain?” Merenda retorted and smacked his lips annoyed as he could feel water dripping down his back and legs.
“Does the Legatus have any more insight on their numbers?” Domus taunted and offered Marcus-Antonius a cloth to wipe some of the mud he’d covered himself with. The Legatus waved it off as it was pointless with the weather worsening every day.
Not with another ride coming right after for them.
“If that was just the scouts camp then we are about to use all those wooden bolts Celsus has been making I’m afraid,” he replied soberly and glanced at the aloof Vegetius and Cucan approaching them. The former having a still thrashing fish nailed at the tip of his spear. “And then some.”
“When you make sense sir,” Domus noted crooking his mouth, Vegetius tossing the fish back in a pool of water before entering the gateway tunnel while the Prefect had his back turned on them. “I’m less worried but not by a lot.”
“Why… when didn’t I make sense dear Prefect?”
“Most of the other times dear Legatus.”
“Eh. You’re atypically moody today. It’s the weather. Do want to hear something uplifting?” Antonius asked him with a manic grin.
“Sirs, Legatus,” the coy Vegetius saluted and poked the dead scout once with his spear to be thorough and professional. “We came as fast as we could.”
“I knew I’ve spoken too soon,” Domus griped and Marcus-Antonius grabbed his shoulder to gaze in the Prefect’s tensed face meaningfully.
“They are about to attack inside a giant semi-circle,” Antonius started with Domus immediately launching a protest before he could finish.
“Just stop. I don’t need to be fed turds. Our north flank is so thinly covered, might as well be open!”
“They don’t know that. The unknown is a barrier unto its own,” the Legatus reminded him and the two legionnaires nodded to show their full support to their commanding officer despite missing most of the previous conversation. Bloody rascals. “We are going to win this Domus. Remember the words I’ve told you the last time we’ve fought side by side?”
“The last time we stood in the field together sir I got trampled by a dead horse to an inch of life and spent the next six months in a hospital pissing soup,” Domus argued stiffly and showed Antonius his ruined arm.
“And yet here you are now a proud high-ranking officer, milking this old story for all that it worth’s,” the Legatus countered smartly and turned to glare at the shifty-looking Cucan and Vegetius. “You two grab the corpse and take his horse. We lack in mounts,” he ordered the odd couple and walked out of the tunnel to march towards his own horse.
-
image [https://i.postimg.cc/mkFxKZLv/Eagle-s-Nest-195-NC.png]
> On the last month of the year 194 NC, after a series of skirmishes the previous week or weeks, Dhin-Awal who had been informed from his lead scout’s (Mereb of Que Ki-La) forays into enemy territory about the presence of enemy infantry in Visserhaven, ordered the Horse Archers leader Kontar (Visserhaven Group) to secure the lake port. Given Visserhaven’s proximity to the petite plateau that Eagle’s Nest had been built on –in order to avoid constant flooding- and the presence of the rich undergrowth along the trees touching the lake-facing slopes on that side, Dhin-Awal wanted to bring his war machines safely near the town and bombard it from the flank.
>
> The second objective of the immediately departing Kontar was to push forward following the lake’s shoreline, bypass the richer forest hugging the plateau and find an exit to the defender’s rear areas thus cutting them off from the road to Forestfort and any potential reinforcements.
>
> While the Horse Archers (Birka had set aside half a division to bolster Kontar’s flanking attack) moved en masse towards Visserhaven, on the other side of the front, Mereb’s scouts had managed to penetrate the frontline unseen and after following the thick woods found themselves between Centurion Indus’ Second Cohort –stationed inside Moeras- and Aulus Cita’s Rangers –stationed in Meertje and the strip of forest splitting the frontline there- for long enough to deliver an accurate report to Dhin-Awal before they were discovered. The culprit Decanus Noud Kost, a veteran Issir tracker that had enlisted in the Legion’s Rangers.
>
> Dhin-Awal immediately ordered Pourem’s infantry (North Group) to attack Moeras, overrun the village and reach as far as the back road running between the third lake and the grain windmills, which would have cut off Meertje port (located in Smallake) and its defenders. With the flanks secure, the Khanate general would then have ordered the pouring out of the forest infantry and horsemen to attack Eagle’s Nest or besiege it to submission.
>
> The scout’s warning ‘of non-Issirs in Visserhaven’ taken with a grain of salt since the Reserve Army hadn’t come face to face with central Jelin Issir soldiers before and the difference in armour reported by the lowborn illiterate Horselord scout was perceived as just one ‘of the young Riverdor Duke’s many peculiarities’. Dhin-Awal was certain that Duke Charles had reinforced Eagle’s Nest though and remained cautious.
>
> On the other side of the battlefield, Legatus Merenda after managing to get himself lost during a simple recon mission and ending up more than three hundred kilometers away allegedly, was now standing in the way of Khanate’s third pincer. He finally reported to the Consul of the ‘training mishap’ and assured Galio Veturius that the ‘legion is in the process of getting back quite aggrieved by the mistake’.
>
> Whether aggrieved or not the Legion wasn’t.
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> It didn’t move at all.
>
>
>
> Despite repeated calls for King Lucius to recall and reprimand the stalling Legatus that had crossed into another Kingdom’s domain while endangering the whole outfit, Lucius kept delaying a definitive response whilst urging his general staff to contact Marcus-Antonius again. Which was far from easy. The King focused his energy instead to his family, overseeing the plans to repair Cartagen and Cartaport, restore the domed temple that had killed Di Cresta and brute-force the beginning of work for the Desert Road that was to connect Canlita Sea with South Regia.
>
> On the first month of Fall, a moved Duke Brakis was honored inside a packed court for his efforts by the King himself, who then offered his condolences for the younger Brakis’ loss to the Admiral in a lovely private ceremony.
>
> When a pressured by his mostly ‘green’ soldiers poor performance in the ending year Lord Anker wrote in mid-Fall to ask ‘whether any wandering Regia troops were perchance stationed between the lakes’ Lucius had replied ‘not to our knowledge but we could be mistaken Lord Regent’ which could of course be interpreted a number of different ways.
>
> Baron Eman who was asked in turn of the same matter had replied to Lord Anker with the rather laconic and rather uncharacteristic -even abrupt for a minor Issir noble- half-cryptic ‘Negative sire.’
>
> Merenda had gone so far off the rails, no side believed –or knew for certain- that a whole Legion was present between the lakes even after the battles had started.
>
> Kontar’s Horse Archers moved against Visserhaven but were warned by scouts that the enemy had taken up positions inside the semi-flooded port village. Kontar made an initial assault, but quickly realized he couldn’t advance following the central part of the shoreline (before Visserhaven) as it had turned into a bog. So his men dismounted and approached on foot from the road. They then fired a series of volleys over the short ramparts and fortifications, waited for a response and when they got none stormed the quiet village.
>
> It was a bloodbath.
>
>
>
> A stunned at the brutality Kontar pulled his men back after suffering over a hundred casualties for no gains and messaged Dhin-Awal for reinforcements, arms and armour or ‘Satemi’. The latter along with Umi, two lead Khanate engineers Rumen-Kot -the injured admiral’s brother- had dispatched along the bulk of the Khan’s machines to help reduce the fort. Rumen-Kot had remained with the Khan being as he was one of his advisors. Due to bad weather, the machines had been slow to get out of King’s Forest and Dhin-Awal was told that moving them to the flank ‘inside the bogs’ was unwise by both engineers. So Kontar was instructed to ‘regroup, find his spine and try again’.
>
> Pourem who was advancing on Moeras with two-sevenths –around a thousand men- of Birka’s 3500 mercenaries along with archers and scouts paused his assault on the larger village. He attempted another flanking attack through the bordering strip of woods but got bogged down under heavy rain and stiff resistance –Indus and Cita were rotating men in and out of the woods- so the Horselord gained very little ground.
>
> In the meantime the roaming Mereb’s advanced scouts informed Dhin-Awal that the road straight ahead was ‘bad and booby-trapped while the plowed fields are clogged up and difficult to navigate.’ The Khanate general called for a stop in military operations under the heavy rains of winter. Under pressure to move forward, he reinforced Kontar with five hundred of Birka’s infantry and asked for more engineers to ‘break through the northeastern woods and the center.’ Rumen-Kot who read the report back in Issir’s Eagle dispatched three hundred immediately but since they wouldn’t arrive for at least ten days, he asked the Khan if they could utilize some of their idling forces to assist Kontar.
>
> Lord Bedas of Sidhyr, the Khan’s Master of Slaves that had lost face during a slaves bloody uprising the previous months and had now over six hundred slaver guards at his disposal inside the capital, offered some of them ‘that had served in the galleys’ to be used as a makeshift ‘marine force.’ The idea was to sail across the flooded Smallake and reach Serpent's Tongue River’s Delta Marches near Meertje. They had already started amassing boats to attempt to sail down the large river after the winter and reach Riverdor but the naval defeat and losses at Colle had delayed their plans. Once on land, they could assault Meertje and take it over, then link up with Kontar’s trapped in the woods troops.
>
> Khan agreed to Rumen-Kot’s plan and less than two weeks later during a hailstorm, Bedas slaver-guards landed near Meertje opening another front to Indus’ northeastern flank. Indus ordered Cita who attempted to defend the village to retreat in the woods and the rangers managed to escape the sudden flanking assault while defending against Pourem’s force. Pourem’s infantry attacked Moeras trying to cut them off inside the narrow strip of woods but despite entering some of the ruined buildings they were pushed back. A hundred meters of ground separating Moeras from the thin line of trees turned into no man’s land with war machines from both sides aimed at the narrow gap in the frontline.
>
>
>
> A month later no one had moved or made any further gains. While the situation was far from pleasant for the defenders, Marcus-Antonius had managed to surprise and eventually stop Dhin-Awal. One must credit the young Legatus –after criticizing his reckless actions- for remaining optimistic and quick-thinking against a vastly superior force whilst inspiring the locals to assist him. Whether Marcus-Antonius was aware of what was against him or not has never been answered clearly till this day and people tend to overblow past feats blinded by the results. For what’s worth King Lucius later summed up Merenda’s ‘one man campaign against the Horselords’ with a noteworthy annotation.
>
> ‘In war, he who has foresight outperforms an otherwise stronger foe for he steps into the battlefield better prepared. It is an instinct but it can be honed and sharpened. Couple this with vision and bravery, then you’ll have more often than not a winner. I believe that deep down all of us standing here would have wished to be in our brave Marcus-Antonius’ boots.’
>
> Far be it from this author to question Praetor Maximus’ words but if I was to offer my humble opinion here, the King was already missing being on campaign not a year after Regia’s Civil War had finished and saw Merenda’s risky actions as a projection of his innermost ambitions. Most of the people knowing him could sense it, despite the busy Lucius not revealing his inner thoughts in public and performing his duties to the fullest.
>
> Perhaps we were all safer whilst on the harsh campaign’s trail and sharing common discomforts with dignity. ‘War is bad, messy and very ugly no question about it -for all. It isn’t as lethal for the few ‘just people’ amongst us though and undoubtedly far less dangerous than politics or court intrigue’ as another great mind -history cruelly tossed aside- had once told this author.
> Lord Sirio Veturius
>
> The Fall of Heroes
>
> Chapter XXII
>
> Legatus Marcus-Antonius Merenda,
>
> -Also addressed-
>
> ‘King & Queen’s favored’, the ‘volatile Quadrumvir’ ‘I Loran-Nore’** or ‘Nya Vanya Maethor’ when on Eplas*
>
> Volume II
>
> Merenda’s Gambit
>
> Chapter III
>
> The forgotten front
>
> A series of brutal battles fought between the Great Lakes,
>
> Also known as the ‘good Legatus war’ in Issir literature
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> Circa eleventh month of 194 NC to late Spring of 195 NC
>
> Followed by ‘A feeling worthy of being court-martialed’
>
>
> * To distinguish him from the ‘Solid Quadrumvir’ Legatus Nonus Sula, the ‘Savvy Quadrumvir’ Tribune Trupo and the ‘Resolute Quadrumvir’ Propraetor Macrinus. It is worthy of note that despite the differences in rank the four generals all had a legion at their disposal. Sula the Fourth, Marcus-Antonius the First, Trupo the Third (through Consul Veturius) and of course Macrinus the Fifth or Nordic.
>
> ** From the Imperial translation of the ancient name Laran/Loran-Lorian + the term Nore/Nori meaning ‘the Lorian’. The second very warm moniker for the usually reserved in their affections in public Wetull natives was only heard once in front of an audience.