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Lucius Alden,
‘Bloody Tiger’
Lord Lucius Aldenus the third,
Praetor Maximus,
Legatus ‘Omnis Legionis’
King Lucius III
Scorned Hearts
Part I
-Eyes that cast a distant gaze-
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> The Bloody Tiger’s court
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> Kingdom of Greater Regia
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> (after the addition of Kas, the northern territories & Storm’s Rest)
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> Established circa 193 NC (in most cities after Lucius entered Cartagen) or 192 NC (in Asturia after the King’s marriage to Lady Monica Holt) per Sirio Veturius & the Holts with a few divisive scholars giving 194 NC (the end of the two King’s era) as the starting date.
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> Circa 195 NC (during the ‘Battles between the Great Lakes of Kaltha’ & D’Orsi’s Expedition)
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> -
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> ‘The Throne of Regia’
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> King Lucius Aldenus, the third.
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> Queen ‘Red’ Faye ‘Numbers’ Alden
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> Queen Monica ‘Holt’ Alden
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> Prince Roderick ‘Lord Tigon’ (b.190 NC in Kas)
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> Prince Alistair III (b.193 NC in Cartagen)
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> Prince Ralph III (b.194 NC in Cartagen)
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> Alistair II ‘De Weer’ Alden – ‘Blond Crow’ (b.191 NC in Alden –Jeremy/Janneke)
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> Princess Vacia (b.193 NC in Cartagen)
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> Princess Patience ‘De Weer’ Alden (b.191 NC in the city of Alden -Jeremy/Janneke)
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> Aegium branch
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> Baron Vinicius Alden (Lord of Saltville –Alden of Aegium)
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> Aurelius Alden (b.192 NC in Saltville –Alden of Aegium /Magdalena Riveras)
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> Lady Sandra ‘Rhodium Rose’ Alden (b.184 NC in Aegium –Alden of Aegium /Magdalena Riveras)
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> Aldenfort branch
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> Baron Reynard Alden (Aldenfort –Alden of Canlita Sea/Aldenfort)
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> Brutus Alden (b.177 NC in Aldenfort –Alden of Canlita Sea/Aldenfort)
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> Not in line of succession
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> Doris Alden (in exile, former Duke of Aegium, disinherited with royal decree. Wetull’s advisor, Director of South Eplas Trading Company)
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> -
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> The Quadrumvirate
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> A closed military council directly below the King under oath & tasked with running the military & ‘matters of outmost importance for the realm in the King’s absence’ per Lucius’ order ‘Quintus decem’ or ‘Royal decree number fifteen’. The deliberately vague wording of the king’s decree placed enormous power in the hands of the Quadrumvirate.
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> Under
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> Consul Galio ‘Old Oak’ Veturius (Governor of Storm’s Rest, King’s Advisor)
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> Propraetor Macrinus (Lord Governor of Greater Kas, Warden of Northern territories, Commander of Fifth Legion ‘Nordic’)
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> Tribune Varus ‘the Book’ Trupo (active Commander of the Third Legion, Secretary of War Cabinet, King’s Advisor, military historian. A Lesia noble from Sartor. Guardian of the Capital & the East Border.)
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> Legatus Nonus ‘Solid’ Sula (Commander of the Fourth Legion, ‘temporary’ Governor of Aegium. Distant kin to Duke Sula of Demames. Guardian of the South Coast.)
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> Legatus Marcus-Antonius Merenda (Commander of the First Legion. Youngest legitimized bastard of Sir Seleucid Merenda the Lord Commander of Cartagen’s Royal Guard. Guardian of West Border.)
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> The Council
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> Consul Galio Veturius as the leader of the Quadrumvir.
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> Grand Duke Hunter Holt of Asturia (former Commander of First Legion. Former Shield of the King. He was usually represented by an adjutant or Sir Flavius Nasica.)
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> Duke Paulus Sula of Demames (usually represented by his cousin Baron Drusus Sula.)
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> Duke Sissena Brakis of Illirium (Regia’s Admiral, Master of Ships)
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> Lord Robart Holt (Regia’s Treasurer, Master of Coin.)
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> High Baron Montague Valens (Cartaport. The King’s Shield. Royal Governor in absentia.)
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> Baron Curtius Vendor (Two Rivers Castle. Master of Justice.)
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> Director of LID Vibius Ramirus (The Third Legion’s intelligence officer and Lucius’ close advisor had taken over the duties of the Master of Silence after Lucius abolished the office. Director Ramirus build permanent LID offices in Regia and allowed his agents to work independently from their various Legion postings. A controversial decision.)
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> Grand Disciple Aulus Ventor (High Priest of Tyeus standing in for the ‘Five’.)
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> High Priestess Augusta Flavia (High Priestess of Naossis from Valeria. Naossis’ Temple had blessed Lucius as King in Asturia after his wedding to Lady Monica and insisted strongly to be part of the Council when Ventor was asked by Duke Sula to participate to represent the ‘Five’ gods.)
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> Baron Jacob II Jacobred standing in for Duke Redmond of Kadrek (representing the semi-independent Duchy of Sovya. When absent Sir Norman Gatrell of Yepehir stood in for Jacob.)
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> Duchy of Novesium (?) The position remained empty for a time with its former Duke Ursus remaining imprisoned in Cartagen’s dungeons and his titles left vacant. New Mayor Reganus of Moon’s Haven (a former Mayor there as well) who had surprisingly won the local landowners vote of confidence in a very tense and bloody race that had come down to a couple of yays was to fill that role. Reganus had petitioned the King using brow-raising flowery language to allow ‘the much experienced & beyond reproach’ Baron Storm Nattas to take over his (Reganus’) duties in the Council until the matter of a new Mayor for Moon’s Haven was to be decided.
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> The position had been vacated by Reganus to enter the race for the nearby much bigger city. Lucius dismissed Reganus’ suggestion, ordered him to ‘concentrate in his new loftier position with the dedication he’d promised during his campaign and forget all about the nearby barony’s business’. Lucius did later allow Nattas to work outside the Council’s meetings to assist in the affairs of the rebuilding city after Mayor Reganus revealed himself unable to manage the workload and of limited intelligence. ‘Never has a stupider & philistine politician of shady peasant stock and no perceptible skills or charisma, elevated himself in so narrow a timeframe in this kingdom’s history’ the King famously commented in a close cabinet meeting after Reganus failed to repair Novesium’s sewer system in time for the rains of winter. The failure becoming even more glaring since Robart’s Holt’s treasury released the funds to him. It caused the coastal tourist city’s streets to flood with rivers of human and animal manure that birthed insane amounts of lice and other infectious parasites come spring.
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> It was to kill three hundred and seventy seven civilians with the typhus fever inside two months in the ‘Spring of Malady’ of 195 NC.
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> -
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> The Tiger’s Entourage
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> Lucius bodyguards, palace & household personnel
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> Consul Galio ‘Old Oak’ Veturius (Advisor)
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> Director Vibius ‘Vulture’ Ramirus (Advisor)
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> Tribune Varus ‘The Book’ Trupo (Advisor)
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> Centurion Mamercus Sorex (when in Capital)
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> Legatus Marcus-Antonius Merenda (when in Capital)
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> Nipius Bonosus, Architect. Sculptor. (Master of Public Works)
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> Prefect (3rd Legion Engineers) Potis Durio. Engineer, Architect.
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> Sirio Veturius. Royal Scribe, Historian. Former LID agent with the 3rd. (Allowed to stay in the Capital after 194 NC to be near his wife. The Consul’s nephew.)
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> Sir Seleucid Merenda (Lord Commander of Royal Guard)
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> Sir Aesop Sabinus, Royal Knight (The King’s Bodyguard)
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> Sir Roman Valgus, Royal Knight (The King’s Bodyguard)
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> Centurion ‘Mangled’ Mede, 2nd Century/1st Cohort. (Alongside Lucius the only other Legion officer considered a ‘named’ warrior by the Northerners. The 3rd Legion unit and its one-eyed half-mask wearing Centurion remained near the Palace grounds and the King per the Consul’s orders to protect the Praetor Maximus. It created some tension with the Royal Guard especially with the presence of so many of Ramirus’ agents that roamed the city & Palace grounds as well.)
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> Percival Gaeta. Royal Adjutant, General of Cartagen Guards (Baron Valens’ old adjutant)
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> Cyrus Falx ‘the elder’ – Royal Chamberlain
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> Cyrus Falx, the second -Royal Attendant. Son of Cyrus the Elder.
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> Licinia Diana, Royal Courtier
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> Dottore Marcus Epolonius (Royal Doctor, Academic)
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> Dottore Silvio Marianus (3rd Legion)
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> Sir Flavian Gregor, Royal Knight (to Queen Monica)
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> Sir Antigonus Calvus, Royal Knight (to Queen Monica)
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> Sir Flavius Nasica, Croton (Knighted ‘for staying on the saddle to serve far-above pay and duty whilst gravely injured’ by Duke Holt after the Lorian Plains Battle. One of the finest equestrians of his era and leader of men-at-arms. Lord Bernard Holt’s childhood friend. Frequented the palace grounds.)
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> Logan ‘Gray’ Barret. Fabled ‘named’ Northern warrior & multiple wars veteran. Considered a mute. Rumored to be ‘Unkillable’, a rare moniker he shared with another infamous ‘named’ warrior Dirk Curd. Member of the ‘over-a-hundred slain’ club. An excellent swordsman with both arms & a superb ranger. Acting leader of the Numbers Warband. Prince Roderick’s Guardian. (The Warband was oath-sworn to Faye and lived inside the Palace Gardens woods.)
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> ‘Hulking’ Layton (A half-giant of unknown origins that Lucius had befriended. Famously always wore a cumbersome ice-bear pelt over his already very-heavy armour. Mentioned in the dailies multiple times despite not being an official member of the 3rd Legion. Sort of joined the Numbers Warband for a while after 193 NC.)
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> ‘Uncouth’ Torcal McKee, Adam ‘Jaws’ Hough, Ned O’ Farrell. (Named warriors, warband leaders & war veterans hailing from the distant Numre Burg -Numbers in Nordic. A Blonden province near the Iron Mountain in the Far North. They were also at times part of Queen Faye’s entourage.)
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Early morning
3rd of Secundus, 195 NC
The King’s Bridge
Little Cartagen
West side of Mabindon River
The road to Cartagen’s West Gates.
“Make way for the King!” Sir Seleucid barked leading his horse against the carts blocking one of the large stone bridge’s lanes. “God damn lethargic loggerheads.”
“Sir Seleucid,” Lucius intervened from atop Nightsilver. “It is much easier for men on horses to maneuver than it is for animal-drawn carts.”
The Lord Commander stopped his warhorse just shy from shoving the panicked merchant over the bridge’s rails and raised the cover of his helm perturbed. “My liege, this is the King’s Bridge.”
“I won’t argue on the name,” Lucius replied with a reassuring smile for the hurrying to get out of the large entourage’s way merchant. “But it is still a bridge for all Sir Merenda.” He stared at the bowing merchant a little more austerely now. “Which means the King gets to use it same as all others.”
“King Lucius my deepest apologies,” the merchant agreed moving his laden cart past them. “Have an auspicious morning your grace. Luthos favor upon you and your household!”
Lucius nodded once in appreciation.
“They look to avoid the taxes at the South Gates sire,” Percival Gaeta informed Lucius as they continued across the wide bridge and past the rows of wagons going the other direction. “So they come to Little Cartagen first, loop around the back roads to reach Godswood and then cross Mabindon’s First Leg there.”
“Where? Are they not using the First Bridge to reach Elysium Fort?” Lucius enquired, now interested in the topic.
“They have cut a road through the forest and they keep setting up small docks or crossings some kilometers to the west in order to avoid the second custom’s checkpoint.”
“So they have a fine road available but they won’t use it to avoid paying for its maintenance?” Lucius asked with a slight purse of his lips. “What’s the other reason?”
“Smuggling. The use the trick to enter the city and the practice just spread to the legitimate merchants as well. The South Gates is a nightmare to go through without proper papers.”
“How do they get past the guards at the West Gates?” Lucius probed watching the civilians, some strangers mixed in with them. Issirs, a couple of Cofols and several Northmen. “Is it that difficult to check on a wagon’s contents these days?”
“We check everything sire. But they enter secretly through the Slums. They dig tunnels under the walls, their entrances inside the dwellings.” Gaeta explained.
Lucius turned to glare at the Commander of the Guards. Gaeta cleared his throat and then added. “We are actively hunting them down sire.”
“Have you located these ‘secret’ tunnels? Praised be Gods Lord Lennox didn’t think of that!”
“Not all your majesty.”
Lucius stopped his horse, they had reached the flooded Grain Fields outside of Cartagen and he could see looking to the North all the hearth smoke rising from the Slums. The latter started some kilometers away beyond the muddy fields hugging both sides of the main road.
“The King stops!” Sir Seleucid barked and turned his horse around to bring their procession to a halt. “Keep your mounts to the sides of the road! Sir Sabinus, you better clean that dirty cloak son!”
“Lesia asked for a meeting about something similar,” Lucius said thoughtfully. His mind was on the expensive desert road –he had under construction- lately and of course on Marcus-Antonius dangerous undertaking. The Legatus had been stuck between the Great Lakes with no close allies near him. Lucius had considered whether ordering Legatus Sula to march up the coast towards the Kaltha border might be the way to solve a potential bad turn of events there.
Could Marcus-Antonius lose the First Legion? He wondered each night. At what point the strategic benefits of stalling the Khan’s advance and bogging him down would outweigh the loss in personnel? Lucius wanted the Khan to lash out in anger and attack him. It would free Lucius’ hands both in the eyes of the weary public and the other Kingdoms that waited to see whether the ‘tiger’ will stay put in its nest or march on campaign again.
Lucius had a plan half-ready in his head on how to tackle the Khanate’s armies. That is several plans depending on who sided with him or not. He didn’t really need Kaltha’s assistance to implement it but he couldn’t justify moving the rest of the Legions over another kingdom’s borders after his many speeches on ‘the need to end wars on Jelin and work to help the civilians prosper.’ The cultured politician in Lucius urged for caution which the fiery general in him didn’t want to listen.
‘Publica Regia cautiones nititur et ludis insanis indulget’, Tacitus had written many years in the past. Cyprian of the Aldenus. Regia’s public strives in assurances and indulges in crazy games. Pleasant distractions and soft cuddling, Lucius thought. Grandiose plans and the return of ancient territories not really as exciting to the commoner’s ear whilst pregnant with dangers and uncertainty.
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“Where’s Trupo?” Lucius asked and looked to locate the Tribune. The mustached officer approached on a fine warhorse, resplendent in his shiny armour. “You heard me Tribune?”
“Lord Bernard queried on instructions on the same matter sire,” Trupo replied using a soft cloth to clean some of the splotches of mud that had landed on his outfit from all the horses moving about. “Apparently the Flauegran wines don’t outshine the competition unless it is in the coin needed to savor them.”
“Your family produces a third of that wine Tribune,” Lucius noted raising a brow.
“Sartor wine really worth’s every penny sire,” Trupo assured Lucius defending his estranged family’s business. “But when ill-repute venues offer similar vintages in half the price even the most savant of drinkers are bound to take notice or indulge in a sip or two.”
“Ill-repute?”
“Initially. Then the owner of a better establishment is enticed to make a deal himself to get his hands on the novel product.”
“I signed a decree. Every bottle from Goras is to be taxed heavily until their leaders reach out for a general agreement on imported goods.”
“The idea of borders limiting their access to the markets is nigh offensive Maximus.” Trupo noted.
“Such hubris! Do they still think themselves the old ‘merchants of the Imperium’? Eh. There will be no open borders without a deal with an official entity. Not with a war going on. No carte blanche. A deal Trupo involves assurances, military cooperation and a common agreement on the sea routes.”
“The Cofols want the freedom to buy land and open warehouses in the corresponding ports… or cities.”
“The land belongs to Regia. We shan’t sell what has taken blood and soil to win. What’s wrong with our own warehouses?”
“The rent is expensive sire. People spot a fancy Cofol merchant and go for the kill. Metaphorically speaking. Either way we’ll never agree on a long-term price with the Cofols. They love to renegotiate deals.”
“What does Robart think?” Lucius asked after he climbed down from the warhorse to stretch his legs.
“The treasurer is pressured from the Bank of Trust to keep the prices up. If I can be bold sire, you are also considering a loan to speed up public works. This fact weighs in Robart’s negotiations with his former colleagues in the Bank,” Trupo replied.
“Because Lesia would rather not to have a worthy competitor in their market,” Lucius noted. “How is Regia profiting by helping their neighbors apply pressure on Goras?”
“You are trying to mend relations my lord.”
“I do,” Lucius agreed. “These are my mother’s people.”
“And my country men sir. By the way Goras has asked for the right to moor in Aldenport, Illirium and Aegium.”
“It is a package deal,” Lucius grunted as he’d discussed the matter earlier that year.
“Indeed sire. They want us to back Elsanne’s bid for the throne of Kaltha. It will secure their east border from a nasty surprise.”
“Because Goras has an agreement with the princess and her pirates. They don’t want to sour their relationship with Scaldingport which is the best port they have access to at this point.”
Lucius wanted to negotiate with Lord Ruud but not in a package deal with Elsanne. Same with Goras. Each one of them presented different challenges. With Ruud it was the matter of Jeremy’s kids. He couldn’t have a claimant for the throne living in Scaldingport. The matter of Elsanne had far-reaching implications. Lord Anker had the legitimate heir’s back and unless someone could produce evidence to the contrary, Lucius would never side with a pretender after all that had happened to him. Goras… was a different beast and the Cofols were hiding behind the man ruling in Wetull. You don’t use a fake shield to protect yourself or side with against the Khan which was what Lesia (or the Wine Barons at least) seemed erroneously to believe. No, you find yourself the best shield possible.
“We could wait for them to blink your grace,” Trupo suggested interrupting his thoughts.
“Only they don’t wait Tribune,” Lucius said noticing the groups of civilians skirting around the royal entourage stopped by the side of the road. “The ships still arrive in the dark of night. Wine is unloaded and travels up the continent. A sought after commodity reeks of profit and illicit profits birth criminality.”
“D’Orsi might solve the problem for all of us sire. He’s committed,” Trupo blurted afore grimacing in discomfort for the slip up given they were in a public place.
“Any news?”
“Silence from Lesia,” a blushed Trupo replied and brushed his mustache with two fingers.
“I would have had the Barons arrested,” Lucius said pursing his mouth. “To act without consent from the King was borderline treasonous Tribune. I can’t believe your family has a hand in it.”
“I can see the need for action and it’s a semi-legitimate reason sire.”
“No it isn’t,” Lucius replied abruptly, his eyes on the civilians that looked to avoid staring towards the King too openly. “This is the last resort and still… violence can’t be the first or second option in business disputes Tribune. Even if Garth personally ordered the smugglers to come to Jelin –which sounds preposterous- this isn’t a real invasion with soldiers and horses. Not a strong enough reason to risk war.”
“The consensus in Lesia is that Goras is a fiefdom run by surviving half-crazy Zilan, old-gods fanatics, vicious cannibals and cheating scoundrels my lord.”
Lucius rolled his eyes at the absurd generalization. If a bunch of scoundrels in Goras could rebuild a kingdom, the pirates of the Scalding Seas would have had a naval superpower by now given they had a head start to them of a couple of hundred years at least.
“There is a unifying element that allowed all those scattered, thought extinct mind you, remnants of a species to start rebuilding again. You need a genuine cause or a well-dressed story, the sense of hope for your future and a convincing enough force to succeed in that,” Lucius breathed out and felt the sun touch his face as the sky cleared somewhat from the clouds. “Who is gathering information about D’Orsi in Armium?”
“One of Ramirus’ agents. Speaking of stories… there’s a lewd story circulating sire.”
“Best to keep the details to yourself Tribune,” Lucius admonished him. “We need someone in Cediorum. It is where the news shall arrive first.”
“We have a whole ring of people there my Lord.”
“Um.” Lucius nodded, his eyes wandering on the other side of the large road. Some of the merchants had set up small stands there to unload some of their wares to those leaving the capital. Mostly trinkets were on offer and fishing supplies. The strangest group amongst them a trio of merchants, consisting of a lanky hooded man and a couple of half-breeds with darkish skin and whitish hair. Neither Issirs nor Lorians. Only they weren’t really a group the king noticed as his interest peaked. The tall merchant was selling leather articles of clothing and accessories. Belts and straps. Gloves, bags and even shoes. The couple was just standing there idle and the female was looking at the king’s entourage with interest.
All their deeds. Past and future. Old and new, the woman had told Lucius over a year back at Islandport. The sword remembers all souls King Lucius.
The half-breed flashed him a bright smile and Lucius stepped on the concrete road to cross it unwittingly.
“Sire?” Trupo queried seeing Lucius walking across through the traffic with Sir Seleucid barking with a booming voice.
“THE KING IS ON THE MOVE!”
The resting knights scrambled to their feet to follow after the solemn Lucius.
“MAKE WAY! Allgods damn it!” Sir Seleucid kept growling irate behind Lucius as the latter reached the tall merchant with the strangely symmetric but elongated face standing next to the female. The Lorian-looking man seemingly unperturbed by his approach despite the commotion Lucius’ approach had stirred to the people walking the other side of the road and the rest of the merchants located there.
“King Lucius. Blessed be thee my Lord,” a local Lorian merchant of fish-supplies said bowing his head respectfully and Lucius returned the greeting with a nod. He glanced at the shifty-looking kid next to the grinning female and then at his brazen partner. A sister perhaps given the similarities, although she stood much taller than the younger male who was of a stockier built. Almost as tall as the indifferent to his presence merchant who had Lucius’ height and the King was a man of considerable stature.
“He’s a foreigner your grace,” the female explained with a curtsy as if to prevent Lucius from lashing out. “Please don’t have us arrested.”
“I’m strongly inclined for your young friend has a crook’s face,” Lucius retorted and the young thug went to smile at that afore the female slapped him once upside the head to stop him.
“He lived a troubled life your grace.”
“Of petty crime?” Lucius taunted.
“Aye, it was a fine line Nard walked,” the half-breed acknowledged and the merchant reached inside his robes in that instant, brought out a very large piece of fresh vanilla cake and slotted it in his mouth turning away momentarily. He started chewing on it audibly, giving Lucius very weird vibes.
“How did you know about the sword?” Lucius asked her, now his attention drawn towards the mysterious merchant.
“I can read a situation and use my intuition since I was very young,” she replied and made to reach and touch Lucius’ chest with her hand but the arriving knights following an irate Sir Seleucid got between them and the king.
“Back away!” Seleucid grunted warningly. “You little shit get your hands out of your pockets. Show me the hands! Sir Valgus grab him!”
Trupo arrived as well and went to check on the merchant’s wares, a pair of gloves catching his eye. The swallowing his cake merchant reached to get them for him.
“Leave them Sir Seleucid,” Lucius ordered and the knights allowed the tackled Nard to get up from the ground they had tossed him violently. “I haven’t reached a decision yet.”
“A decision on what exactly my lord?” Trupo queried in a Flauegran posh accent looking at the pair of leather gloves with interest. “These are positively a darling,” he told the taller merchant. “I see there is a label here. A known brand? S & R?”
“Samblar & Ryfon,” the merchant replied proudly in an accent even more exotic than the Lesia noble officer and Lucius caught the half-breed female rolling her eyes to the white in exasperation at the merchant’s words.
“I stand bewildered for not recognizing the name given the quality I witness,” Trupo admitted nervously, his prominent mustache dancing. “As I consider myself a fashion savant, though admittedly I’m just now catching up with the new trends after a period of cold he-he. Is this a new talent?”
“It most certainly isn’t,” the man snapped a little offended.
“Which of the two are you?” Lucius asked gesturing for Sir Valgus to let go of Nard’s snatched ear afore it detached from the kid’s head and the burly Knight reluctantly obeyed.
“I’m Ryfon. The funny one.”
“What? Sabinus grab that fool—” a disbelieving his ears Sir Seleucid Merenda barked but Lucius stopped him midsentence placing a hand on his shoulder.
“Do you know you’re speaking to the King?” Lucius asked Ryfon calmly and a nervous tick-tacking sound was heard under the small table.
“There is only one king,” Ryfon started pompously looking just about ready to go on a tirade. Lucius narrowed his eyes in suspicion but the woman intervened to add in a teasing voice and defuse the situation.
“And the rumor is he needs no propping up but an honest salutation,” she sang eyeing the numb Ryfon who nodded once and turned to speak to Lucius again.
“Salutations,” Ryfon said steadily this time. “Would the king consider a trade?”
Lucius pursed his mouth thoughtfully. “This king wouldn’t,” he replied meaningfully and turned to stare in the half-breed female’s face.
“I’m Leirda,” she introduced herself warmly. “In my dreams your grace was less interesting.”
There it is again, Lucius thought. A peasant soothsayer. What are you doing? He asked himself and then stared at Ryfon. “Where are you from mister Ryfon?”
“Eplas, oh ye King of the Lorians,” Ryfon replied, a touch a razz in his voice.
“Just Regia,” Lucius retorted with a grimace of irritation.
“Well, Regia must be a demanding mistress then,” Ryfon deadpanned perceptively, still a little too brazen but also with an uncanny sense of humor Lucius didn’t expect.
“Indeed she is,” Lucius agreed with a surprised half-smile and lowered his eyes to see what Ryfon had offered him.
It was the fine pair of leather gloves Trupo was examining earlier.
“A gift to the Ruler of these lands,” Ryfon said in a sober tone. “For allowing passage.”
“That still sounds like a trade mister Ryfon,” Lucius noted and reached to take the soft pair of gloves.
“The King would be correct,” Ryfon agreed and bowed his head with respect.
Hmm.
“Find a horse for the girl Sir Valgus. You’ll take the boy,” he ordered with a last glance at the interesting foreign merchant. “Sir Seleucid will guide the horse,” Lucius added turning to the giddy Leirda.
“I can ride your grace,” she assured him.
“Where did you learn?” Lucius queried unsure. “You owned a horse without land?”
“Pretty poorly from watching others,” Leirda corrected herself with a blush. “Aw. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Perhaps you shouldn’t have. We’ll put yer boast to the test. Also when a king asks a query you ought to answer him,” Lucius told her austerely.
“I can take a horse from the guards at the Gates sire,” Sir Seleucid informed Lucius and he nodded.
“Find Ramirus mister Trupo and remember to check with the birds,” Lucius ordered turning around to head for Nightsilver. “I want to know of any new developments with the other thing and of course learn how Marcus-Antonius is doing. I’m concerned about the latter.”
-
Two hours later
“Word among the palace servants is you brought a peasant girl with you,” Monica commented watching him play with little Alistair. The boy was fascinated with the gloves Lucius had brought back. “A new lover? Should I inform the redhead we are being cucked?”
“A soothsayer. She thinks at least.” Lucius replied not minding her jab. Monica had a sharp tongue but knew when to speak freely. He glanced at his young wife.
“What do you think?” Monica asked teasingly and in a much better mood lately.
“I brought a gift for you,” Lucius dodged and her eyes opened in surprise.
“Are you sure it’s for me?”
“They are too soft for Faye.”
“Maybe buy her a pair of gauntlets?” Monica teased and took one of the gloves from the cooing boy. “Are they my size? Oh,” she gasped trying it on her left hand. “That’s… a perfect fit.”
Well then, that’s bizarre.
“I tried them on.”
“Um. Too small?”
“No. One size fits all Ryfon bragged,” Lucius murmured.
“Who is this Ryfon?”
“A merchant I met on the road back from Little Cartagen.” Lucius replied thoughtfully.
“The slums have such quality venues? Why, in Asturia I stayed away foolishly,” Monica commented with a chuckle. “What manner of name is Ryfon?”
“The man hailed from Eplas?”
“Not with that name. Reminds me of Gryphon,” Monica said with a cute frown. “The temple has an almanac of mysterious creatures,” she explained and Lucius raised a questioning brow. “It is how you would have pronounced it in Imperial.”
“My queen speaks Imperial?” Lucius teased her and got up from his chair, lifting the cackling Alistair high with both arms.
“Your queen would like a personal visit,” Monica replied huskily. “Maybe she’ll even wear the gloves.”
Lucius returned her stare while rocking Alistair in his arms.
“I have the afternoon booked,” he finally said.
“What if Faye had asked?”
“I’d say the same thing,” Lucius replied with a frown. “But I’ll make time later. For both my spouses,” he added a little sheepishly.
“We can do late too… us legendary night creatures,” Monica giggled and waved at Licinia to bring little Vacia closer. “If the king wishes to visit our lair and is willing to take the risk.”
Of Faye’s wrath was her meaning.
“The king wishes,” Lucius went along with a genuine smile. “He’s willing to take the risk. What brave knight skirts at the opportunity to conquer a wild beast’s lair?”
“The beast won’t put up much of a fight but it can be wild.”
“The challenge is accepted then.”
“Hah. I’m expecting a pair of new shoes. The order got delayed for quite a while due to a mistake. It doesn’t matter,” a smiling Monica explained. “Maybe I’ll put them on too. A leather winter outfit of sorts.”
“Where’s the rest of this vaunted leather outfit?” Lucius queried and gave Alistair to Licinia to carefully take his tiny daughter in his arms.
“That’s the extent of it your grace,” the young queen replied batting her eyelashes. “I guess we’ll have to make do with what’s available.”
-
Early afternoon
The Palace of a hundred windows
King’s intelligence briefing
“Here it is your grace,” Ramirus said and offered him the pile of scrolls.
“This is Durio’s office?” Lucius asked reading through the short messages between the various agents and the reports attached.
“The local commander of the guards contacted the Prefect’s adjutant with the details and Durio mentioned the incident in his monthly correspondence.”
“So Lord Bernard was on to something.”
“Maybe he knows more and said just enough to be safe,” Ramirus said.
“Are they certain they saw Lear Hik?” Lucius asked. “Why didn’t he return with the army? There are soldiers going back and forth all the time. What’s the meaning for this ruse?”
“He didn’t give them a chance to work on a solution,” Ramirus explained. “The man marched away that same day. Comenius Paetus, my agent there, reported the presence of potential assassins or similar thugs visiting the city those days.”
“Are we certain he met with Lady Mclean?”
Ramirus shrugged his shoulders. “I would have said no two months back but Lord Bernard did mention she was in Asturia in his letter. For another reason but it fits this problem too.”
“Why would the Mclean agree to a meeting with Lear? They are aggrieved from his actions. Said so publicly.” Lucius grimaced and rapped his fingers on the table’s surface. “Couldn’t you pick a better man for this Ramirus? This is a bloody affair.”
“My lord I didn’t pick Lear Hik because he’s a saint but because the business we tasked him to complete was bloody to begin with.” Ramirus scratched his forehead with two fingers tiredly.
“Long night?”
“Haven’t slept in two days your grace,” Ramirus admitted. “What is the army reporting from Eagle’s Nest?”
“Marcus-Antonius is fighting the Khan’s Reserve army. That’s a whole lot of men with swords.”
“What about the forces that moved towards Colle?”
“They didn’t stay there but headed south,” Lucius replied and got up to stare at a detailed map of Kaltha. “I believe everything in Colle did the same. The Khan needs to free Lord Putra’s South Group. They got pushed back towards Hunter Trap’s Forest and Ruud’s army followed them. This would have been a great moment to surprise the Crows with a full out attack to their north flank but the First Legion foiled that plan.”
“Lord Anker leaked that a good chunk of the Khan’s Main Army left the capital for Colle.” Ramirus replied. “He knows we’ll inform Lord Ruud about it. Why did Lord Anker do it? Prince Radin crushing the rebels works to his favor.”
“Priorities and character. The Archduke is a known patriot,” Lucius replied simply. “Plus it absolves him of any fault if Lord Ruud opts not to believe us. Did he?”
“Well, his first words to our herald were to come after the snows melt,” Ramirus sighed.
“Is it snowing in Scaldingport?”
“Not to my knowledge,” Ramirus replied with a sigh. “We talked with Lord Sigurd Bach though and he took it upon himself to warn the Duke of the danger.”
“If they fail to guard Boar’s Horn Bridge the Prince might break through and strike between the cities,” Lucius noted pointing at the map. “The Duke needs to move sufficient forces north, leave Putra to wither away through the winter and block the bridge road.”
“There’s no way Putra can break out sire.”
“In war, timing is everything. You apply sudden pressure to a point from both sides and it will crack no matter how hardened or determined the resistance.”
“Could the Horselords mount a joint operation? Half their force needs to be abandoned if they even make it out of the Peninsula.”
Lucius nodded deeply focused on reading the map. “You don’t make a rescue attempt to save everyone Vibius,” he told the listening Director of LID. “That’s just the propaganda part of it. You just want to get some of the men out or even sacrifice them to gain a small window of opportunity to win a strategic battle elsewhere.”
“Sire?”
“The Khan needs to break out to the interior. This must be his number one objective, all others just gravy. Dwin-Awal wants to do it through the First Legion, let us hope he fails and Prince Radin might try the same at Boar’s Horn. Use the rescue mission as a cover to placate the Khanate’s public opinion. I don’t believe he’ll head for Castalor. Nah. He won’t for it is meaningless and it might trap himself as well.”
“Radin would never win against the Princess’ forces. Scaldingport is impossible to take in a swift attack however brazen.”
“He has to take neither Scaldingport nor Castalor. Kaltha is a split country due to the succession,” Lucius replied pursing his mouth. “That was Putra’s mistake. What he needs to do is to force a big bloody battle or capture Rusted where the rebel army’s supply and command center lays and then offer enticing terms. Maybe kill the Old Crow in the process to talk with a more reasonable opponent. Or the Princess for that matter. Everyone is staying there. What’s the name of the unit guarding Ruud’s rear?”
“The Gallant Dogs sire,” Ramirus said and seeing Lucius’ amused stare he added in a dispassionate voice. “A mercenary outfit out of Eikenport.”
“I didn’t know Eikenport could support armies.”
“The King beyond the Pale Mountains can. They were working for him primarily,” Ramirus informed him.
“Does Lesia know of this?”
“It factored into their decision sire.”
“Because Goras was stripped of men supposedly?” Lucius offered.
“If I had to guess on the pitch offered during the pre-campaign meeting then yes sire.”
“Didn’t Garth support the Three Sisters of the Peninsula in their revolt?”
“All reports seem to agree to this my Lord, along the fact that Prince Atpa was forced to grant them their independence.”
“How could the mercenaries transport themselves from Greenwhale Peninsula to Scaldingport in such a short amount of time?” Lucius queried deep in thought. “That’s a huge journey across an endless continent, followed by a sail over an ocean. The logistics alone is a nightmare to pull through.”
“Mayhap that was a completely different army sire?” Ramirus guessed and Lucius nodded once in agreement.
If you can spare an army to the west, another to the east then what prevents you from keeping an army to guard your center? Lucius wondered. Naught but people’s false perception that you are a small fish in a big lake with no brains to spare.
But hopes and dreams aren’t actual intelligence, Lucius decided. Expect more from your opponent to be pleasantly surprised. Underestimate him and you’ll come to regret it. He suddenly had this strange feeling D’Orsi was about to get a very nasty surprise. It was a strange feeling of discomfort this that stayed with the King and wouldn’t let go despite Lucius not having more than a brief memory of the Lesia nobleman or any real fondness.
Lucius had attributed the dark cloud descending over his thoughts to this problem or the many big and smaller crisis’ buzzing around the throne those days.
Eyes that cast a distant gaze fail to discern the presence of the lowly serpent at their feet, Tacitus wrote. And after you strike at the serpent that bits you in righteous anger, you quickly cast the memory aside and declare the problem solved. Alas a truly great intellect can’t fathom or bear the shame of making the simple mistakes all mortals do like standing above a whole nest of vipers until it is much too late.