(Hear this, afore the chief comes back!
Hey, no cackling prithee… we good?)
So he reached amid the tiny harlot’s parted legs,
Now that was a stunt!
Grabbed a fistful of bloomin’ cock ‘n balls instead o’ a ripe fuckin’ cunt!
Then n’ there she… oops he, offered a randy slightly kinked, peach-colored smile,
Why darling, the sweet lad said, learn to be more versatile!
A wench’s pink façade do the garments make
As to the heaven’s all sisters bellow alleluia!
Now ye darn fool, don’t you stop to gawk!
Just drop the foul thing alike a rock!
(Aye, a rock…
Oh, Ebe’s in shock,
O’ goddess’ feathers… come ‘n make a lock.)
And from this abode of godless decadence
Ever far and ever away… shall you walk!
-
Far & Away
(Ode to the tiny harlot)
Sir Dominique Valwarin,
The Carmine Bard.
Born 45 NC in Jelin, the Crabs (Duchy of Tollor)
– Died 109 NC in Eplas, Altarinport (Duchy of Raoz)
----------------------------------------
*here the live version
-
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Lear ‘Razor’ Hik
‘Captain’
‘Butcher of Drek River’
‘Man from Atetalerso’
The outmost arbiter
Part I
-Faster than any bird-
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-
> 3rd Legion
>
> (Abbreviated | III LEGIO, Bloody Third, Old Sister, Lucius Legion, ‘Scarlet Legion’, Double L. Also LL, III-LG)
>
> Panthera Tigris | Reddish bronze and gold standard representing the head of a snarling Blacktiger, very similar to Regia’s gold non-snarling banner, the royal Aldenus family crest and the First Legion’s emblem used in banners and armour. After 193 the banners and armours changed to use the more easy to mass-produce IIILG logo, leaving only the officers and the First Cohort still using the more difficult to maintain tiger embroidery and engravings (mainly on the shoulder guards). It remained present on the crimson shields though throughout the campaign and is being used also on liturgical symbols today.
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
> Organizational chart*
>
> After the end of Lucius southern campaigns that dealt with Regia’s Civil War.
>
> Third’s last increase in roster strength and later the unit’s standard disposition
>
> (Overall strength ~4018?*
>
> -Legio general staff not included, supply train personnel not included)
>
> -2800 legionnaires,
>
> ~1298? other units
>
> (350? mixed cavalry, ~300 heavy Slingers, 290? Scouts and Rangers, 300 Engineers, 58 medics)
>
>
>
> Legatus Augustus* omnis Legionis | Lucius ‘Bloody Tiger’ Aldenus –also Praetor Maximus after 191 NC, King Lucius after 193. *To differ from the Governor ‘Legatus Proparetore’ rank Macrinus of Greater Kas had started using.
>
> Lucius didn’t personally lead the Legion after late 194 with Consul Veturius taking that role and Tribune Trupo acting as the day-to-day commander, until the unit was split up to serve in various missions.
>
> Aide de Legatus Legionis | Late Marc Gripa’s position remained vacant for a while. Acting as Aide de Legatus Legionis in the field, was Director Ramirus.
>
> Consul, also (Legatus Honoraris) | Galio ‘Old Oak’ Veturius. Never officially received his ranks during the campaign but it is assumed the promotion –to Legatus initially- came from an anecdotal King Lucius’ direct quote in public. He was paid as a Tribune for years and later a full Legatus salary, which is as accurate as the official roster & ranks list. Again promoted unofficially for a while to his final rank of ‘Consul’ of the Quadrumvirate/Tetrarchy or its respected Mediator. Acting Governor of Storm’s Rest. The Consul’s original armour was so heavy with all the decorations he had received from Lucius, Galio had it secured on a stand in his office as a prop. The Legion’s quartermaster officially proposed in a letter –still disputed whether it was a jest or not- that a soldier should be tasked with following the Consul and carrying around the heavily laden armour in a permanent posting, but Galio turned down the suggestion as ‘ludicrous’ and fined his good friend Ramsey Kolt a week’s pay for ‘poor judgement’ and an additional three weeks for cluttering the army’s ‘official channels with nitwitted gags and buffoonery.’ Thus the Consul had rounded up the fine to help the unamused quartermaster –Ramsey Colt- easily calculate the total sum Ramsey had to charge to his own person.
>
> Galio Veturius remained the most respected high-ranking officer in the III Legio and the soul of the army until the end of his life. He served a full term of twenty-five years in the First Legion initially and retired with honors plus a Centurion’s pension. Notably had volunteered as a lowly-guard in the city of Alden, from where Lucius picked him up before leaving for the North. He officially came out of retirement to start a new full term with the Third Legion from which he famously never retired, as he refused to read his discharge papers at the end of his second term.
>
> Reached the rank of centurion twice in the Legions and was named first a Tribune -without being a noble. (He was from a prominent family though. A privilege he’d lost due to his ancestor’s actions and he regained it through his service later in life), later a Legatus and finally Regia’s first Consul in two centuries. Quadrumvirate’s Mediator. Without a doubt the closest high-ranking officer to Lucius (with the addition of Marcus-Antonius later) and an immovable part of his inner circle.
>
> Tribune | Varus ‘The Book’ Trupo (Lesia. Baron Trupo’s of Flauegran, disinherited second son. One of the three powerful Wine Barons.) Also Scribe de legionis and its military historian. A member of Lucius inner circle. Later a Quadrumvir alongside Sula, Macrinus and Merenda.
>
> 2nd Prefect | Julius Draco (Whitetiger, Regia. Son of Baron Vibius, the Duke’s Shield. A strict training officer that excelled in the 2nd part of the 18 months campaign.)
>
> 3rd Prefect (of engineers) | Potis Durio (Lastport, Lesia. the fourth Durio of distant Lastport to reach the rank of Prefect in a Legion and the second to do it whilst serving with the Legion’s Engineers after his great-grand uncle Tito Durio. Decorated officer. The road connecting Anorum with Cartagen bears his name. Served in the Legions (First & Third) from 186 until 210. After his retirement in 210 aged forty-five he moved to Armium and served as a minister of Public Works for the throne of Lesia.)
>
> Optio (of Cavalry) Jago Davy. (A Nord from Maza Burg. Gold Phalera recipient.)
>
> Centurion (of Medics) | Dottore Silvio Marianus (Decorated for bravery in the field. Later Regia’s Royal Dottore.)
>
> LID officer | Director Vibius ‘Vulture’ Ramirus, (Legion Intelligence Department). A Centurion equivalent rank in the registry. A member of Lucius inner circle. Ramirus stopped traveling with the Legion after establishing offices for the agency in most cities.
>
> Aide de LID officer | Severus
>
> Sirio Veturius. Former LID agent. Royal Scribe. (Accepted a government position in the Capital to be near his wife). Very old family of historians and officers. The III Legio Tribune’s nephew. Infamous Lord Nattas’ son in law through marriage. A later prominent historian who wrote extensively about the turbulent period mainly from Regia’s and the Praetor’s perspective. It soured his relationship with many prominent lords. A known Luciophile, his writings are not widely accepted as accurate especially beyond the Shallow Sea (mostly in the Khanate) and parts of Jelin, but he’s considered a superb source for the period from most academics regardless of that. Curiously Sirio is rumored to be Queen Lussiel’s (an alleged towering academic herself) favorite historian for his acerbic prose despite being critical of Wetull’s policies in his writings.
>
> Quartermaster | Ramsey Kolt, also Keeper of the Purse. Served in Lucius’ administration after his retirement as a Master of Coin.
>
> Panthera Tigris Signifer | Brim ‘Stout’ Solomon (Lesia). Emblematic military standard officer. ‘Wherever the Third has traveled’ was the well-used quote ‘Stout Brim has as well.’
>
>
>
> 1st Cohort
>
> -Gold Standard, a square red banner shaped like a spear with an oak tree in gold depicted on it, for its first commander Galio Veturius.
>
> Monikers- Red, ‘Old’, Gold Oak’s, ‘Gata’
>
> Strength 850
>
> 1st ‘Agricola’ Century
>
> Centurion, Primus Pilus| ‘Sturdy’ or ‘Baldie’ Brevis. A decorated, risen through the ranks officer. Gold Armillae (arm-band) with oak leaves and swords recipient for saving a unit from destruction twice. Mentioned in the dailies. -400 legionnaires (in four 100-strong Maniples)
>
> 1st Decanus| Surus (first ‘Kato’ Maniple)
>
> 2nd Decanus| Santiago ‘Jacob’ Scaro. A Cartagen academy educated recruit. The late Roderick Scaro’s kin. A loyal and landed Lorian family. Roderick had been King Alistair’s squire for decades, the late King’s aide and Lucius’ weapons teacher. (Second Maniple)
>
> 3rd Decanus | Gurus (Third Maniple.)
>
> 2nd Century Centurion| Venius ‘Caligula’ Gata. The late Primus Pilus’ Gata first cousin. -150 legionnaires (in three 50-strong Maniples)
>
> 3rd Century Centurion| Artur Mangas (Nord. A decorated officer)
>
> 4rth Century Centurion| Surus (Gold Phalera recipient. Maimed at Oldfort. Promoted to Centurion to take over for the KIA Servius Capito.)
>
>
>
>
>
> 2nd Cohort
>
> -Gold Standard
>
> (Monikers Blue, ‘Sula’)
>
> Strength 650
>
> 1st Century (previously 2nd of the First Cohort -moniker Mark-Antony’s lads-)
>
> Centurion| Mede, Nord. Famous one-eyed legionnaire risen through the ranks. A gold Phalera recipient thrice. Cited for misconducts multiple times. Mentioned in the Legion’s Report multiple times. Late Centurion Kato’s friend.
>
> Decanus Tertius (transferred with Mede from the 1st Cohort)
>
> Decanus Titus Afer (2nd Maniple)
>
> Decanus Lar Polus (3rd Maniple)
>
> 2nd Century Centurion| Josi Vala – 150 legionnaires (in three 50-strong Maniples)
>
> 3rd Century Centurion| Ardi Damian
>
> 4rth Century Centurion| Spurius Dio
>
>
>
>
>
> 3rd Cohort
>
> (Moniker Purple, ‘Lucky’)
>
> Strength 650
>
> 1st Century Centurion| Placus Lepidus (Highly decorated officer and trainer. Thrice recipient of the Golden Phalera. One of the Third’s most respected and skilled officers. A masterful attacker. Had been with the 3rd Cohort since its inception. He’d formed for years a very-successful duo with late Centurion Falx leading the 3rd Cohort, until the latter was killed fighting Regulus at Ligur’s east flank in the battle of Mercator’s Inn.) -200 legionnaires (in four 50-strong Maniples)
>
> 2nd Century Centurion| Donlon (Decorated, risen through the ranks, officer. Promoted and transferred from the 1st Cohort.)
>
> 3rd Century Centurion| Julius Sepofa
>
> 4rth Century Centurion| Jorgen Osmond
>
>
>
>
>
> 4rth Cohort
>
> (Monikers Kas, ‘the young’, Macrinus Lads)
>
> Strength 650
>
> 1st Century Centurion| Sextus Silvius - 200 legionnaires (in four 50-strong Maniples)
>
> 2nd Century Centurion| Keegan Dixon (Kas) - 150 legionnaires (in three 50-strong Maniples)
>
> 3rd Century Centurion| Jason Gordon (Kas)
>
> 4rth Century Centurion| Kaleb White (Kas)
>
>
>
>
>
> Legio Scouts
>
> Centurion| ‘No arms’ Slag. (A highly decorated officer and trainer.)
>
> Decanus | Phil Owens. (A Nord.)
>
> Not with the unit always but acting as trainers.
>
> Centurion Kiri Dosser
>
> Decanus Placus
>
> Decanus Goff
>
>
>
>
>
> Legio Cavalry
>
> Also ‘Long sabers’ a wordplay for their famed commander and the ‘four-legged legionnaires.’
>
> Optio | Jago Davy. Decorated Nord officer. Served under the legendary Tribune (posthumous rank) Kent ‘Thin Knees’ Long and was one of the few survivors of the latter’s unit.
>
> Decurion | Marc O’Halloran.
>
> Sir Flavius Nasica (Croton, on loan from Bernard Holt and Duke Holt after spring of 193. Not with the Third after 195 NC as he stayed in the Capital near Queen Monica.)
>
>
>
>
>
> Legio Slingers
>
> Centurion| Mamercus ‘Unhurried’ Sorex (A decorated officer. Part of the Praetor’s inner circle and friend for years.)
>
> Decanus | Bill Wallace (Nord)
>
>
>
>
>
> Legio Engineers
>
> Prefect (of engineers) | Potis Durio
>
> Centurion (of engineers) | Toni Drano (Lesia, recently promoted. Cited for misconduct.)
>
>
>
>
>
> Legio Medics
>
> Centurion (of medics) | Dottore Silvio Marianus
>
> 2nd Dottore | Riminus
>
>
>
> Detailed:
>
>
>
>
>
> Legion Scouts
>
> & Rangers’
>
> (Also ‘the barbarians’, Kaeso’s gang)
>
> Overall strength ~290+ warriors and rangers
>
> ~200 from Lady Faye Alden’s warband (40-60 joined after Oras Navel under Ned O’ Farrell)
>
> -various mixed units of fighters,
>
> Mainly heavy axemen, but also swordsmen- under the overall command of famed Logan ‘Gray’ Barret and the half-giant ‘Hulking’ Layton. (Mentioned eight times in the dailies, the Legion’s detailed reports when in campaign. Cited ‘verbally’ for several misconducts multiple times after that, mainly excessive hunting of the King’s deer, public drunkenness, quarrels and ‘mild’ looting of the capital’s markets, which the throne usually stepped in to reimburse with a royal decree. Some killings were exempt and were dealt with internally.)
>
> When the majority of the unruly unit (warband) was called upon to receive their medals for their major contributions in Lucius’ campaigns and loyalty, most of them asked for more gold instead, with Logan refusing outright but settling for a load of ‘good blades’ and the gullible Layton asking for a herd of milk cows since ‘metal hurt his teeth’, which the army quartermaster readily provided, much to the amusement of the prominent Lorians attending the event.
>
> Featured several ‘named’ Northmen warriors like ‘uncouth’ Torcal MacCee, Adam ‘Jaws’ Hough, Ned O’ Farrell and briefly the brothers O’ Dolan, Cole and Aiden from the distant Rifjordal. The latter were both killed at Oldfort within a day. It must be noted here that the unit was oath-sworn to Red Faye and kept receiving skilled new fighters every season from Fetya, mainly the distant Blonden province, more specifically the remote Iron Mountain’s Numre Burg (meaning Numbers in old Nordic) from where her warband hailed from. Moved to the Capital and famously set up a camp inside the Palace’s extensive gardens. Their red banner resembled a square Legion standard and had the old Lorian numeral ‘L’ on it under a gold diadem, for number fifty and in honor of the Northern Queen.
>
> Around 100 Rangers (Some Nords, but mostly Anorum, Cartagen recruits. The unit was still rebuilding at the Battle of the Lorian Plains. The unit was destroyed completely and then rebuilt from scratch after the end of the campaign.)
>
> Under Centurion | ‘No arms’ Slag. (A Nord. Had joined as a teenager. Recipient of the Corona Vallaris and two gold Phalerae for extreme bravery. Honorably received his full retirement sum and yearly pension early, plus land in Storm’s Rest, but opted to remain with the Third Legion. One of four rangers to survive the battle. Famously trampled under a warhorse’s hooves twice during the engagement as he stood up after the first pass. Crippled in both arms –lost the left and had screws bolted in to his right- after the penultimate engagement at the Lorian Plains, but stayed after he recovered as trainer and strategist.)
>
> Decurion | Phil Owens (acting commander)
>
> Other officers and trainers included the other three survivors, namely Centurion (retired) Kiri Dosser and officers ‘Ugly’ Placus and ‘Blind’ Goff, serving as trainers after they recovered from their injuries. Dosser and his group were released from the Legion after receiving full pension. The trio worked as bounty hunters on Jelin after that traveling the whole continent.
>
>
>
> Legion Cavalry
>
> Strength 250 (-350?) mixed riders. The unit returned to Storm’s Rest after a brief stay in the capital and then used in the cleaning up operations from Oras Navel to Anorum. (Nords mainly but also 150 recruits from Anorum after 194 NC and from then on.)
>
> Included thirty men & women of Praetor Maximus’ entourage usually though those they stayed in the capital with Lucius.
>
> (The attached around a 100 men-at-arms under Sir Flavius Nasica of Croton were transferred to the Palace’s guards since the winter of 195 NC. Sir Nasica had kept receiving reinforcements from Asturia for years, mainly skilled riders wanting to follow the action initially and later serve in a prestigious –and lucrative- posting near the Asturia Queen to support their families.)
>
> Queen Faye Alden (Nord) –not active after Krakenfort and she spent most of her time in the rear or with her warband after 192 NC. She was pregnant to Ralph Alden the third, during the final battles of the campaign. She remained in Cartagen after that-
>
> Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.
>
> Optio | Jago Davy (Nord)
>
>
>
> Legion Slingers
>
> (Attached short range unit
>
> – Semi-autonomous, usually deployed by the Legatus.
>
> Only unit employing women and men under sixteen)
>
> (Strength fluctuating during the campaign due to casualties, usually ~300 men and women.)
>
> Centurion | Mamercus Sorex
>
> Decanus Jeb Lynch (Maza Burg)
>
>
>
> Legion Engineers
>
> (Leather aprons, ‘Bestia’)
>
> Stationed in Storm’s Rest since the winter of 195 NC
>
> 200 Legio Engineers (about thirty percent of them from Lesia)
>
> + 100 apprentices (engineers, blacksmiths and carpenters included)
>
>
>
> Legio Medics
>
> 10 Dottore and surgeons
>
> ~50 nurses
>
>
>
> Around two thousand five hundred civilians (some soldier families), merchants and technicians (Civilian blacksmiths, carpenters, laborers, Armorers, hunters, trappers, whores, musicians etc.) following in the supply train. At least three hundred and fifty (350) various-sized carriages and wagons carrying mostly foodstuff, cots, leather tents, precut wood, tools and weapons – at least thirty two (32) pre-built war machines, including twenty-four Scorpios, seven Catapults of mixed munition, a long range Trebuchet and an unspecified variety of siege engines - among other things.
>
> ** The 1st Century of the 2nd Cohort under Mede stayed in Cartagen and in the Palace’s grounds with Lucius. Redeployed in Novesium in the first month of 195 NC to assist with the typhus epidemic as part of Dottore Epolonius’s relief effort. The famed medical scholar and King Alistair’s personal Dottore was to lose his own life trying to save as many people as he could. Epolonius did a remarkable job in stopping the disease from spreading. He also kept the official casualties to a stunningly low number, even if the latter feat along other parts of the incident, are heavily disputed today by the victims’ families. Hundreds of Lorians lost relatives living in Novesium or visiting the city, with no explanation on what really happened to them.
>
> *** The Third Legion was stationed in Storm’s Rest during 195 NC to help in the various constructions there under Prefect Potis Durio. Most of its leadership (Consul Veturius, Tribune Trupo, Director Ramirus etc. stayed with Lucius as his advisors.)
>
> **** Various units were used to keep control of Oras Navel or escort caravans. Also to control the wilderness towards Anorum or around the rapidly growing Storm’s Rest, especially after Novesium’s refugees were redirected there from the capital during the ‘Spring of Malady’.
>
>
-
Clouded night ahead of us, Lear thought, silently observing the camp fire’s dying embers, the mounted legionnaires that escorted them had constructed earlier. The 2nd Maniple of Third Legion’s, powerful 1st Cohort’s, 1st Century under young Decanus Santiago Scaro. A hundred men strong unit. The men had created four more campfires for themselves right before the Flower Bridge and the road to the northern gates of the Capital.
They had also cut down nearby trees and leveled the terrain for their horses with complete disregard for the passing patrol’s complaints. The Cartagen guards patrolling the road between the bridges had left to continue their rounds casting sour looks at the legionnaires. An internally circulated letter from Storm’s Rest and Comenius Paetus, the LID agent stationed there, had alerted all nearby military units to provide assistance for Lear’s group ‘whether they wish for it or not. All amenities needed for the successful completion of this vital task are at an officer’s disposal, the moment the latter undertakes it by order of Director Vibius Ramirus.’
When you get stopped by a hundred armed soldiers vowing to come along with you or else, Rhys had declared in his forceful manner. You shut yer mouth and do as you’re told!
Edge had thought it nice to ‘have better company for a change,’ Mark was pretty drugged-out most of the time to offer anything of worth and ‘Tracer’ Jack was just happy ‘people came to appreciate the value of our lives.’
It was doubtful any of the soldiers had any orders regarding Jack or his safety–despite his value- but there it was just the same.
The trio of assassins that had helped them, not a solid group or even from the same guild apparently, despite their amicable company –for the most part- were fine with it.
Rhys was older, around forty years old. Selussa was half his age and the Gish’s face, a male of sorts dressed in women’s garbs, looked pretty ancient at times or when the paint wore off. Didn’t move like an older person all the time, which made Lear believe the whole thing a charade. There was a dynamic in their group with Rhys being the vocal leader but Selussa having most of her suggestions accepted in the end and the little Gish playing off of the two of them to get his or hers.
Silent Servants and the Circle’s assassins with a touch of the League of Forsaken Slayers. According to the Gish. Rhys refused to accept another party of killers was involved and Lear couldn’t really agree or disagree with him, as they had faced plenty of killers already.
Of all kinds.
One more group was both one too many and also not much of a surprise at the same time.
“Sergeant Bulla,” Decanus Scaro said sitting next to the thoughtful Lear, “that’s Leroy over there, spoke with Varus Gryllus. We can enter the city without problems tonight. Minimum travelers, cold night and empty streets. We’ll ride the whole way. We can reach the palace in a couple of hours.”
“Uhm.” Lear grunted and pursed his mouth. He could see the young officer shifting his weight from one foot to the other. Scaro’s uniform and armour looked pristine and polished. With the carved tiger heads at the shoulder pads and the nicely engraved laminar armour gleaming in the light of the flames. “What did Leroy Bulla say to the Guard’s officer?”
“Nothing. He asked for our mission details but it’s an army matter mister Hik.”
“Did he look nervous?” Lear probed and stood up with a grimace of pain. He rubbed at his right knee some, to alleviate some of the discomfort.
“Not really.” Scaro blinked unsure. “You expect trouble Mister Hik?”
Lear stared at the lithe, comely Cofol female, serving tea to her friends and pursed his mouth. The mind goes where it wants to go. When you’re on the clock and on edge, not all instincts are noble or pure in nature.
A problem for younger heads this though. Lear had been there and done that, wasn’t that much keen on bothering with it again. Skilled women were trouble, be it in bed or trade. Eleonora was like that, Manuela obviously. Selussa seemed nicer in comparison until you remembered what she was and who her friends were.
The Gish chuckled throatily and gazed forlornly towards the sleepy by the fire Mark, the latter sitting next to the whistling Roland Edge across from Lear.
“Trouble is out there. Always,” Lear rustled raspingly. “You’ll either surprise it first, or it shall. Better to make the first move in a scrap lad.”
Decanus Scaro nodded. He’d short cut hair, blondish in color and light-green eyes. A Lorian face and jaw over a stocky, muscled frame.
“A quote from Tacitus?” He chanced with the air of an academic and Lear gathered spit in his mouth afore answering.
“Nay. Lear Icarus.” The bounty hunter rustled and spat a fat blob of phlegm on the sizzling embers. Lots of foul fluids had accumulated in the lungs after months on the road.
“Just calm down Captain,” Edge counseled from his spot. “It’s the final stretch.” Edge instantly grimaced in horror not liking how he’d just jinxed himself for no reason and cursed loud in annoyance. “God damn it kid!”
“What?” The startled Mark gasped waking up from his stupor. “Are we there yet Mister Roland?”
“Difficult to do that when we’re not moving,” Edge retorted sourly and glared at the paused Lear. “You think they’ll try something inside the city?”
“I would.” Lear murmured. “Plus I don’t like announcing my arrival.”
“Sometimes it is better if the authorities are notified.” Edge argued.
“Yeah. Lots of authorities though in the capital. People might get confused on who to listen to,” Lear retorted and walked near the separate smaller fire of the Servants and Co.
“Feeling better?” Flix, the murderous Gish, asked coyly.
“Eh,” Lear grunted and found a rock to sit on. Selussa got up and prepared a bronze cup of tea for him. She brought it near the scowling Lear carefully. “I’m full.” Lear rustled scowling some more. The last thing he wanted was having to fight with Rhys for his woman.
“You got all tensed up there! Better watch out!” Rhys snapped and then grinned a golden smile. Selussa rolled her eyes at the attempt at humor –and veiled threat- but the assassin grinned some more on purpose. The incisors much larger and belonging to a predator making his ridiculous look turn sinister. “She won’t bite, hah-hah. Much,” the Servant added and slurped at his tea eagerly.
“It is strong black tea with crushed mint leaves,” Selussa explained. “Good for the lungs. Cleansing.”
Lear eyed the concoction and then took the cup from her hands. He sipped some with a grimace at the bitter, stiff taste.
“No sugar around,” Selussa purred teasingly and walked away like well-scratched cat, in order to return to her spot right next to the smoking Gish. The pipe’s smoke aromatic but also making Lear’s head dizzy.
“Can’t you cut back on the drugs?” He grunted at the Gish.
“It’s for medicinal reasons,” Flix explained coquettishly. “And to keep me company.” The latter ambiguous statement directed to the watching their discussion Mark.
“Ah, gods damn it!” Rhys barked. “Cut it out!”
“No,” Flix retorted stubbornly and snapping his arm emptied the contents of his pipe towards the glaring assassin. Rhys started coughing and cursing, while the Gish sauntered near Edge and Mark.
“Motherfucker… ugh. Fuck,” Rhys groaned opening and closing his tearing eyes. “Got burning ashes in them blasted eyeballs!”
“I understand you intervened on my behalf,” Lear rustled looking at the smiling Selussa.
“A Servant serves Oras’ wishes first and foremost.” Selussa replied and then gazed at him with those exotic eyes. “Balancing the scales or minding not to disturb them too much, is the most important factor with verity its outmost arbiter.”
Lear was of the same philosophy.
“Truth can be cleansing, but how does a killer’s soul find a way to wash the sins away?”
“It doesn’t,” Selussa replied. “Only you can do that. A killer… a soldier… a hunter… they know what they did and why. Nothing can help change our actions in the future. No excuse or need. Which is why a Servant needs to be certain on the reasons.”
“I don’t believe there’s a code assassins follow.”
“Not all do,” Selussa replied. “Not all are the same… or perhaps I’m in the wrong profession.”
“You’ve chosen your path. Eleonora did the same and she could have walked away perhaps but she didn’t. Aye.”
“I was born into it with blade and blood,” Selussa replied nervously and tied her fingers on her slightly raised knee. “I can never walk away. Like my sister.”
She swallowed at that and turned silent.
Lear glanced at the watching with bloodshot eyes Rhys.
“Aren’t you the leader?” The bounty hunter asked.
“It’s a bit more complicated than that,” Rhys grunted all tensed up.
“You’re a couple. No point denying it, I never sleep.” Lear argued. “Heard you plenty of times. Anyways, you don’t have to work the same job or at all.”
“That’s also complicated. The couple thing,” Rhys retorted with a grimace and the starts of a shiver. “But I’m working to secure our future. Need to take care of a couple of things first. Sparing you, set me back a bit. A lot frankly. Eh, I’m still on the fence about it.”
“I appreciate yer candor.” Lear said wryly.
Selussa laughed bitterly to his words. “Rhys is still adjusting to the role,” she said. “But none of us really rule the guild Lear.”
It was nice hearing his name on her lips. Lear grimaced. A man gets tired on the road, desires to unwind and starts searching about for anything pleasing to the palate. An illusion, as in the end all things taste alike. Hint of steel, blood and earth.
“Ralnor mustn’t know,” Lear repeated the words he’d overheard her speak in a terrified whisper the other night. “A strict father I reckoned initially, but now it seems much more is at stake here.”
“Smashed the nail on the head there!” A tensed Rhys grunted.
Selussa stared at Rhys intently and the assassin grimaced before looking away.
“Where’s the sister?” Lear asked to change the subject.
“A bad man took her.” Selussa replied with a frown.
“What happened to him?” Lear probed not minding her discomfort as he wanted to know where everyone stood afore trouble came a knocking at their door.
“Father took care of it,” Selussa replied and Lear caught a strange expression on Rhys’ face. Was it guilt? Maybe fear? A bit of both with a touch of shame. What the assassin knew perhaps different from whatever his lover believed.
A thorny conundrum, when truth can bring sorrow to someone you care about.
But without truth, there can be no real cleansing.
“I’ll head inside the city first. The rest of you will follow after me and put this Gryllus’ promises to the test,” Lear told them and stood up, the cup of tea still in his hand. “If anything happens, you’ll make sure everyone reaches the palace and the king hears Jack’s words. Reads the papers and sees the bag.”
“What in the…” Rhys paused his words and grimaced. He patted a side pocket on his leather jacket first and then digging inside pulled a small pack of scrolls out. “The fuck…?” Rhys snatched a piece of paper out of the stack and read it furrowing his brows.
A silent Lear watched the assassin carefully but heard a slurping sound coming from somewhere near him and recoiled. He glanced about and then lowered his eyes to spot the Gish standing next to his left leg. Flix sipped at a large cup of tea audibly. The Gish pointed a small hand at the puffing out Rhys.
“Trouble,” he said with a chuckle. “Oops.”
“What is it?” Selussa asked and got up herself.
Rhys rubbed his face hard with a gloved hand and then smacked his lips, the gold teeth clacking.
“Maja opened a god’s darn contract,” Rhys finally told Selussa. “Against Baron Nattas!”
“For what reason?” Selussa asked calmly.
“Seriously? That’s bullshit!” Rhys snapped. “They treat the guild like their office! Next she’ll want to off her husband to grab the whole estate!”
“Rhys calm down,” Selussa advised him serenely. “What does she give as reason?”
“Some nonsense. These people… I swear to Oras, they should get a knife in the lung just to learn their lesson!”
“Why ask for a killer to come at Nattas?” Flix asked wiping his nostrils with the back of his hand. “When a killer lives under the Baron’s roof? Hmm?”
Lear glanced at the Gish with a frown and Flix winked at him in a silly manner.
“He broke the contract,” Rhys replied to Selussa’s silent query. “That’s it, you can’t exactly write an essay. Oras is a god of few words. The rest is on his Servants to find out.”
“If the Baron broke the contract, then what’s the problem? It has nothing to do with her at all,” Selussa asked a little confused. “That’s what you were going to propose anyway.”
“Mayhap alternative problem…” Flix said and walked to his things to get a scarf out. He removed his pink wig revealing washed out short hair underneath. Thinning hair. Then wore the red scarf on his head covering everything to the ears and dropped the edges over his shoulders. Flix stopped realizing everyone was looking at him and blushed fiercely. Then as if remembering he’d paused midsentence, the weird Gish added sheepishly. “Appeared? Um?”
“You’re not making a lick of sense Gish!” Rhys snapped furious at the lackluster reply.
“Oras words sense might not make,” Flix replied a little hurt at his outburst. “But faster than any birds they are.”
Hmm. Lear thought pursing his lips and watched Rhys’ face undergoing several stages of transformation. From bewilderment, then intrigued and finally, eyes ogling and mouth gapping wide to show the molars, realization.
“Get the fuck outta here!” Rhys growled very impressed at the ingenious use of Oras sacred gift and then crumbled the paper in a small ball to toss it in his mouth. He started chewing on the crunchy small papyrus with a grimace of disgust but immediately noticed the looks of shock the other two assassins’ directed his way and elucidated with an angry grunt. “We need to destroy the blasted evidence! How are you guys doing it?”
A numb Selussa pointed an index finger at the dying fire while Flix started cackling hysterically with the pained expression on Rhys’ face.
“The plan stays the same,” Lear intervened raspingly. “Rhys, Jack and the bag are the important things to preserve. Don’t forget that.”
“Ayup, that’s a strong nay Captain,” the approaching Edge snapped. “Push comes to shove, I’m using Jack as a meat shield.”
“What? Take a bloody hike Edge!” An astounded Jack griped, Flix’s uncontrollable cackle turned into a violent cough and Lear thought for a moment the Gish was about to kick the bucket before their eyes.
-
Early morning
17th of Secundus
Road coming from the Flower Bridge and Mabindon River
Cartagen’s North Gates
“Why did the Baron get involved?” Lear asked Rhys just as the lit up gates of the capital came to full view.
“He got spooked you’ll accuse him of murdering Jeremy or Alistair I suppose,” Rhys replied checking his scimitar’s edge with a finger. They rode side by side with the others following and Scaro’s 2nd Maniple completely blocking the road about twenty meters behind them.
“So this Maja is?”
“Maja Nattas. His daughter, legally that is. I’m not fully appraised on the matter or how she pulled that off. I guess the Baron fucked around a lot?” Rhys said and got his satchel out to inspect its contents. “Married to the Consul’s nephew. Well, I didn’t see that coming also, hah!”
Lear glanced at the assassin unsure. “How do you know her? Could she really turn against him?”
“Hey. You got nervous is that it?” Rhys asked him aggressively. “What’s with the hundred queries?” He crooked his mouth and added. “The Gish thinks it’s a warning.”
Lear nodded not minding Rhys’ tone. The bounty hunter had gotten used to Rhys’ character after weeks on the road. The half-breed with the gold teeth was always abrupt in his manners even when asking for a cup tea. Most of the times. Not always. Yeah. When he wanted to dodge something that made him uncomfortable.
“Who’s Ralnor?”
“Got damn it Hik!” Rhys snapped and glared at him. “Cut this shit out. What are we, cunts? Enough with the gossip!”
“You look rather spooked Rhys,” Lear noticed wryly. “That’s the second time in a row.”
“I ain’t spooked… fuck it. Alright… you would be as well, if you knew what I know. I’ve witnessed some pretty creepy shite in this realm Hik.” Rhys grimaced and then sucked at his front teeth. “Why enter first?”
“They might abort if they see us amidst the legionnaires,” Lear replied evenly. “I don’t want them backing off. I want them to come out of their holes, make my case easier to prove. Easier to find.”
“There’s nothing to find you stubborn fuck. The job ends here. The King will deal with the rest.”
“Hmm.”
“You do realize that they can save their case and arse by killing you right?”
Lear shook his head. “My case lays with Jack and the bag. Scaro will make sure they reach the palace safe. But I rather settle this the right away.”
Rhys narrowed his eyes. “The right… Good grief. You’re a sick motherfucker Hik. Do you enjoy this?”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” Lear replied vaguely seeing the guards at the half-empty gates standing before the massive barbican’s gates tunnel. “But it ain’t as far as my enemies think.” He added and unsheathed his sword but kept the blade near the body of the horse as he rode towards them.
----------------------------------------
“Look at those armed to the teeth beauties. Who might you be?” The guard’s officer asked eyeing the two well-armed men when they paused in the middle of the torch-lit passageway. The door leading inside the barbican guarded by a soldier resting on a spear. “I expected sergeant Bulla.” The officer added walking towards them, holding a cloth in his hands. He used it to clean them thoroughly. Apparently they had interrupted the officer’s evening meal.
“He’s with Decanus Scaro. Not that far behind us,” Rhys informed him. “Are you Gryllus?” He then asked him, way more aggressively than needed and the assassin realizing his mistake, had to crack a half-smile to soften it.
The gold teeth shimmering unnervingly.
“Aye. Who are you?” Gryllus asked pursing his mouth.
“We’re the scout party,” Rhys lied in a professional manner. “1st Century, 2nd Maniple.” He glanced at the sober Lear Hik.
“Third Legion,” the bounty hunter rustled and watched Gryllus visibly deflating before their eyes.
“That idiot Bulla didn’t… eh, you go ahead now lads,” the rattled Gryllus finally said with a grimace, but he recovered rather quickly. The officer shrugged his shoulders. “Welcome to the capital. Watch your heads on the way in.”
The corridor had a lower ceiling in a couple of spots.
But one could take this statement a number of different ways.
None of them pleasant.
“Thanks.” Rhys replied trying to be diplomatic. “We’ve been here before.”
The Servant’s reply also a little ambiguous.
Lear missed the rest of the exchange as he’d clicked his tongue and gotten his horse going already. He rode through the tunnel at a steady trot and reached the other end of it. The internal gates were also open and he could see some of the buildings of the city beyond them, another tower at the distance, all nicely lit up.
But not illuminated enough due to the late hour.
A couple of guards were conversing with a group of merchants. Another couple of men talking near a group of horses, right next to a watering trough. More of the square behind the gates and the tall walls came to view as he reached the gates, then passed through them without anyone attempting to stop him.
Until someone did.
-
Two minutes later
Bogdan had worked supplies with the First Legion and the 300 back in the day. An older man now than Lear remembered him, close to sixty and surely retired. Then again, if you pick Cartagen of all places to spend your sunset years, you’ll quickly realize shit here is plaguing expensive. Bread and milk cost triple than what they do in the country, women charge you to cop-a-feel as much as they do for the full rodeo elsewhere and whatever coin you’ve gathered working your arse to the bone for years… is just not enough.
“Hey Captain,” Bogdan greeted him leaving the group he was talking to earlier and walked in front of Lear’s now slowly clip-clopping horse. “Recognized the darn long coat. Heh-he.”
“It’s a new coat Bogdan. Bone buttons instead of strings, lots of folk wear it these days,” Lear rustled wryly, an eye on the paused to watch the exchange group of well-dressed cutthroats. “So it’s surprising that ye did so readily.”
“Hah. Always quick-thinking our Cap. Kind of forgot that,” the now grey-haired Bogdan sniggered and clenched his teeth nervously. “What is it now… about twenty years? Details get all foggy.”
I bet you don’t remember what you had for breakfast too.
“Aye,” Lear agreed raspingly and snapped his knees to send the horse bolting forward towards the former mercenary. Bogdan recoiled thinking Lear was going to run him over, but the bounty hunter pulled at the reins with his left hand to turn the horse one way, open the other to swing his sword with the right.
Bogdan managed half-a-gasp seeing the blade screaming at him and sort of twitched his left shoulder. Then Lear’s heavy blade caught the side of his neck, four fingers under the earlobe, cut through soft flesh and the cervical bone on Bogdan’s spine, kept going through the rest of the neck and exploded out of the other side. Gore sprayed everywhere and the severed head went one way, the headless blood spurting body the other.
Lear pulled hard at the reins to steer the irritated horse straight ahead, fierce eyes scanning the square that came alive just as Bogdan hit the stone tiles in two parts. A heavy thud and a smaller one for the head. Some of the details around him -Lear had missed, others he expected.
Bogdan’s crew came at him immediately for starters. Another group also moved towards the violent scene, consisting of five people. A dark-skinned ugly motherfucker, two warriors and a couple of bow carrying hunters/scouts. The second of the two hunters Lear had surprised on the road about a week back.
Lemos had claimed to be a hunter, but Lear had thought him a highwayman watching the road hidden in the bushes. The Gish that liked strolling the woods ‘for herbs’ had spotted Lemos and told Lear about him. Lear had let Lemos go his merry way as he wasn’t working for the city guards and they were on a mission, despite being half-convinced that Lemos had a bounty on his arse someplace.
Any other time Lemos’ head would have been in the saddlebag soaked in salt.
So Lemos decided to thank the bounty hunter for sparing his life firing an arrow into Lear’s horse. The animal dropped on its front legs and then toppled to the side catching the kicking away Lear’s right leg underneath it.
As for the things he’d missed upon entering the square, well… first off, there were two large blocks of soldiers parked before the second tower. A lot of soldiers and they didn’t look like the soldiers Gryllus had working for him.
One could guess that perhaps they were there to assist, like Scaro’s legionnaires, but Lear didn’t rush into conclusions easily. Nor did he ponder on the still distant soldiers for long. The reason being rather simple.
Lear was trying to survive for another minute at least.
Heavy boots hitting the square’s stone tiles, people yelling in alarm and animals neighing scared. His horse bleeding out and shuddering in its final death throes. Lear grunted and pushed with his free leg to get the heavy body off of him. He pulled and thrashed this way and that seemingly for ages but it was only a couple of seconds. Lear jerked his head towards the Lemos and Bogdan’s groups, saw Flix already involved in the scrap, Edge and Selussa burst out of the tunnel riding hard… and Rhys rolling about with a strange woman in the background.
Either at the start of a good fuck or preparing to dance.
Eh.
Lear cursed and an arrow struck the tiles half a meter away from him, then ricocheted over his head. A moment later another hit the saddle and broke apart. He growled hoarsely, veins showing taut on his neck and heaved with all his strength to free his trapped leg.
Almost lost his boot but he did it. A grunting Lear found his sword, then twirled around once. He managed to land on a hurting knee, his breath coming out rugged and fast.
Get up.
Lear stood up with a groan of pain-induced rage and slashed vertically at an arriving brigand armed with a shortsword. Stupid fuck. He cut him across the chest, the blade turning to sink in the man’s stomach due to his forward momentum. Lear sidestepped out of the spilled innards, yanking the blade out. He swung it wide first and then brought it down on the next ruffian, breaking an axe’s shaft along the way and cutting a Northman across the face.
The man jerked his head aside at the last moment, barely surviving the savage blow, but Lear kicked him between the legs with his hurt foot doubling him over. The Northman, sporting a two finger-wide slash across the face and missing an eye, got a knee in the teeth and as his head jolted upwards, Lear nailed him brutally with the guard of his longsword almost ripping the cracking jaw off of his face.
The man went down like a sack laden with rocks, missing most of his teeth and badly mauled only to be stepped on by Lear, who opened his stride to get into the action unfolding in the square. More and more people were getting involved.
Every thug and their mother in need of coin came to collect, Lear thought sourly whipping the blade right and left to get rid of the gore.
-
> Reached between the tiny harlot’s parted legs, now that was a fucking stunt, a tensed Nattas thought, moving briskly to assist Sudi. Grabbed a fistful of blooming cock instead of a ripe fucking cunt!
>
> “Baron Nattas!” Vel growled. “Get out of the way! My men will take care of this!”
>
> “You better hurry up!” Nattas snapped and got his blade out, still using the sheath as a cane.
>
> He checked on Rhys and flinched seeing the assassin getting a slap from the woman that hurled him backwards three meters. Huh. Selussa leaped from her horse onto a man’s back and stabbed him from both sides of the neck bringing him down. An older warrior stopped his horse and went to climb down slowly but a man reached him first, so he had to defend himself with colorful curses drawing a sword from his back, then dropping it, whilst trying to stay on the saddle.
>
> Pure comedy.
>
> Sudi managed to cut Tristan once more but got punched in the face, losing probably some of his few remaining teeth –a blow for sure- and had to retreat a couple of steps with a pained grunt. From the gates city guards appeared just about ready to intervene but taking a lot of time to do it. Gryllus is riding the fence so hard, his arse-cheeks are on fire from all the blasted grinding!
>
> “Arggh!” A brigand yelled and charged at the arriving Baron, who grimaced in surprise and moved out of the way. The wildly running brigand stopped with a curse and turned to slash at Nattas, but he missed again since the hobbling Baron had moved again –wisely. The brigand cursed again and got a small hammer out of his belt to use along with his shortsword.
>
> You uncouth mule! Nattas thought irate and poked him with the blade in the left eye. Hit the nose instead and carved a slanted line on the man’s forehead.
>
> “Gah!” The ruffian cried out and swung the hammer to break Storm’s cane-wielding arm. Nattas pulled it away but lost his footing and stumbled to the side alike a drunken sailor stepping ashore. His opponent slashed to get him, but a teeth-grinding Storm parried with his blade while half-moving half-toppling sideways.
>
> Shit.
>
> Then and there he offered a randy, slightly kinked, peach-colored smile, the faltering awkwardly in the effort to get his footing while defending himself Nattas thought -now all stressed up, but continuing the lewd brothel song. Why darling, the sweet lad said, you got to be more versatile! The burly thug came at him again committed to use both his ‘weapons’, underestimating the hobbling but much more skilled with a blade Baron.
>
> Nattas was far from a bad swordsman in his youth. As all of late Roderick’s pupils he was good with both arms. ‘Comes a point,’ Roderick used to say when Storm messed up a stance. ‘Yer good arm is busy or gone.’ Ah, the pleasant memories. The fucking warmth. He put his weight on the good leg for better support and used the hollow but longer body of his cane –that hid his blade- to smack at the hand wielding the hammer. When the brigand pulled it away, Nattas smacked him again at the fingers while keeping the man’s sword busy with his own blade. The man cursed irate but got nailed by the cane right below the ear and his head snapped to the side.
>
> “A wench’s pink façade the garments make, as to the heaven’s all sisters bellow alleluia!” Nattas sang in a growl now enthused and with his blood boiling, whilst smacking repeatedly with the steel cane his opponent on the head, the neck and the face. About seven meters away, the small girl stopped fighting and turned to watch the furiously singing Baron with a look of profound astonishment. “Drop the foul thing like a rock and from this house of godless debauchery ever far…” he continued with righteous fervor one of late Valwarin’s lewder songs. “…ever away shall you walk!”
>
> The stumbling back man tried to use his sword to keep the murderous cane away from his head and Nattas took the opportunity to stab him with his thinner blade. The Baron aimed for the other eye this time and he didn’t miss.
>
> Hah. Sucks to be you! Nattas thought elated at the success and stabbed the collapsing brigand a couple of more times with his sword. Once in the ribs and one more in the buttocks. Then a heavy hand grabbed him by the shoulder and a pair of cold eyes stared at him when Storm turned around with a curse.
>
> “Who in the Allhells are you with?” The wrinkled face asked raspingly wearing a murderous scowl. This was the man that had started the bloody scrap.
>
> Still living.
>
> Oh, well… we can’t have everything.
>
> “I’m Baron Nattas who else?” A heavy-breathing Storm replied with a grunt of disdain, pushing the man’s hand away. “Gods damn it man. I’m desperately trying to help!”
>
> Myself.
>
> But Lear Hik didn’t need to know that.