Cladius took a last look out of the carriage as they descended through the sloppy hills, overlooking the frosted forest. The first snowflakes of the year descended over the road like leaves from the trees of heaven, a fitting prelude to their arrival. His heart sank as they approached, wondering what the reaction of the people would be. The last leg of his journey he had wondered at the forests and steppes, he had seen humble people harvest and march, but was about to encounter the true meaning of oppression. And he felt responsible.

The architecture in Adachia was unlike anything Cladius had seen, and he could notice from afar. The houses were perfectly round and tall, built with small gray bricks, the doors were small and some of the triangular thatched roofs were twice the size of the houses. Some had been replaced with Itruschian wooden shingles, as the original roofs had probably been burnt during the siege.

When the caravan finally rolled through the village, most of the streets were empty, but he could see a gathering of people leading up to the town square. Most were women, and as they approached, Cladius noticed their clothes; the quality was fine, fashioned out of good textiles. Some, however, were charred or stained with dust and blood. Their expressions were like those Cladius saw fifteen years before, of his own people in the cities surrounded the capital, of men and women who lost their homes, their children, their honor, against themselves. Cladius did not want to see it as fate for the crimes their tribe had committed before. No, it was desire for revenge that had plunged them into death and suffering, one that had broken peace between two nations.

A line of legionaries surrounded the women, and they stood like towers, holding on to their spears close to the edges of the street, guarding the road. The caravan halted at the town square. It opened and Larius was the first to step out into the cold. The rest followed. Cladius felt sickened when he heard the mute applause. He looked around, and although most of the people’s faces were expressionless, a small group of women awaited close to the main carriage, all wearing the same blue hemp dress and fur coats with rich embroidering, their hair braided over their heads with interlaced winter flowers. They smiled widely, but Cladius noticed bruises and lacerations on their arms.

Larius stepped out, the women made way, and one of them stepped forward and presented him with a bouquet of flowers.

“I thank you, people of Adachia!” he lifted his hand. Cladius stood still, his eyelids tense at the bizarre scene he was witnessing.

The new arrivals were led to a high wooden platform. The centurion awaited next to an old man wearing ceremonial clothes, collars of gold and a red pointed hat, with a veil on the sides that covered his ears. A long beard extended down to his belt of gold.

Larius, the guest of honor, ascended the wooden platform and gave a bizarre speech. Since he found the round houses grotesque, he commanded the construction of a big wooden villa, which would require considerable time before its completion. He decided to settle in a tent, where the floor was covered with multiple imported carpets. That was set up in a day.

Cladius tried as much as he could to retreat to the town market and observe the downtrodden barefoot women and the little children with dust on their faces. They all walked reluctantly, without demonstrating any emotion other than their despair.

A woman sat next to a staircase of rock. She had strong bones and a ruddy complexion, but her lips seemed withered with hunger and thirst. Her tunic seemed to have been fine and ornate, but its colour had faded, and it was torn on the sleeves and the collar. It was of hemp, similar to linen, but not as shiny. Cladius approached her discreetly.

“Excuse me, good woman. I am a man of the capital. I was worried about what happened here. How has it been? What can we do to alleviate the suffering of this town?”

The woman’s eyes did not blink, lost in the immensity in front of her.

“It is all gone. All. All hope. All is lost,” she answered.

Cladius sighed.

“What hope?”

“The hope of justice. Of deliverance.”

“Deliverance from what? From us? Please tell me, woman,” Cladius spoke softly. “I know a great injustice has been done in this place. Tell me, therefore, what can I do to help? Let me tell you I will do my best to alleviate your burdens.”

“Nothing can be done.” The woman cut him off. “No sons, no fathers. No life. We are lost. We’ve lost our way. The only thing that’s left is our children. If we go to that land. To your land. We will lose them forever.”

Cladius took a deep breath.

“What could I do for you?”

“Nothing.” She shut her eyes. “What could you do? You’re a pawn, nothing else.”

“Tell me.” Cladius knelt in front of her. “But how? Tell me about your hope.”

“Our… Our sage. He spoke of it.”

“Of what? Of the Mysteries?”

“Of hope, of Defenders rising from the dust. From the forest.”

“The forest…” Cladius stood up. “Tell me, who is defending.”

She pointed with her finger to the wall behind them, where many signs hung. Cladius walked toward it and read through them. Crude drawings represented a couple. Another one, a young woman, and the third one, a small boy.

“Wanted alive? Is this the bane of the Empire? Four children?” He shook his head and walked down the stairs.

“Sire...” the woman called behind him.

“Yes?” Cladius turned.

“They captured the boy. He’s in the dungeon.”

***

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

While Larius inspected the small barley farms and the immediate switch to an agriculture-based community, Cladius was supposed to oversee the remnants of the metal industry. That, he would take care of shortly. First, he wanted to see the boy that had killed two soldiers. What a murderous creature. It made him tremble, but he respected the brave commitment to defend his people.

Cladius walked down into the basement of the old chieftain’s house. Passing through the horrid smell of human waste and the sorry sight of women chained, the old guard seemed oblivious to their pain.

“There he is,” the guard said, pointing to a young man. A sorry sight. The boy’s ribs were showing, his wrists were bloodied, bruises covered his face, and coagulated blood covered him. “Totally mute.”

“Mute?”

“Yes. He’s always been,” the guard said.

“I see.”

The boy quietly opened his eyes.

“Alright,” the guard said. “So, there is not much to interrogate, as you see.”

“Yes...” Cladius cleared his throat. Could it be a cruel mistake? That boy didn’t seem capable of hurting a fly.

“I’ll leave you, if you don’t mind. I can’t stand in this place for long,” the guard muttered, covering his nose.

“Please,” Cladius said. “Do what you must.”

“Fine.” The man left the room promptly, disappearing through the other exit.

Cladius stared at the boy, whose eyes fixed on him.

“What did you do?” Cladius muttered.

The boy, of course did not respond, but chuckled.

Cladius looked around and knelt.

“Boy, I really would prefer if you succeed,” he said in a whisper. “This can never be forgiven.”

Suddenly, he heard someone behind him. He turned, alarmed, and saw a young man cleaning the floor with a sponge, right at the feet of another prisoner.

“Oh...” Cladius turned quickly.

“No,” the man responded. “Go on.”

“And what did you do?” Cladius asked. “You’re a soldier, aren’t you?”

“Well, I was too nice to them, that’s why. That old priest at the temple. He was complaining that the ropes were too tight, and I took him for a walk. I brought him back and that’s when they caught me.”

“I see. Tends to happen,” Cladius said, but he knew there was more to it. He cleared his throat. “So, did this boy really kill those two?”

“Yes.”

“So they’re all kids. All the ones causing the trouble.”

“Yes, they are, very dangerous, huh?”

“Have you seen them?”

The cleaner swallowed.

“No,” he said, his face turned a little paler than before.

“Haven’t you?” Cladius raised an eyebrow.

“No. I mean, I remember the girl from when we captured them all. You know, blondes are not that common back in Itruschia.”

“So she’s blonde.”

“Yes, and she’s about fifteen or sixteen.”

“What else?”

“I think she was the daughter of the main goldsmith, blacksmith. The man really did everything. They lived at the top of the hill.”

“And what about the husband?”

“Well, they say he was a citizen. Mother was Gadalian, father is a general up north.”

“So a traitor.”

“Yes. And… Something else.” The cleaner lowered his voice.

“These people who resist hold them as some kind of prophesied kings.” The man shook his head.

Cladius paused, and for an instant looked at the boy. He quickly turned back toward the cleaner.

“What’s your name, soldier?”

“Felix, sire.”

“Felix. For how long are you staying here?”

“A month, sire, then I’m going back to normal duty.”

“Will they let you keep the same rank?”

“Yes.”

Cladius put his hand on Felix’s naked shoulder.

“Talk to me when you’re free.”

“Thank you, sire.” Felix smiled faintly.

Cladius left the prison lamenting not being able to help them. Or could he? Maybe he was being cowardly. No. His way of doing things was at the negotiating table, not there. But he was alone. All the others were on Larius’ side.

But as he walked at night through the streets of Adachia, even though their bodies were hungry and their spirits were down, he knew the numbers were on his side.

At night, the first meeting of the Committee was held at the village’s tavern. Larius ordered half the reserve of goat milk, to celebrate the end of an era. A great feast was served with perhaps the last valuable cattle of the land. A chilling breeze filled the air, carrying the scent of grilled fat.

“So, how’s your research going, fellows. Florianus?” Larius asked, holding a vase of goat milk.

“The state of the Legion is still good,” Florianus said. “Eight casualties on our side so far, two of whom were devoured by a bear. One missing was confirmed dead. The presence in the forest has quietly increased, but we haven’t found the terrorists yet.”

“Only the mute boy. When’s his execution?” He asked.

“I believe it’s at the end of the week.”

“Bastards.” Larius shook his head. “Alright. We’ve got to move on to other topics. Cladius? Please.” Larius signalled at him with a smile.

Cladius cleared his throat.

“Tomorrow I will inspect the workshop on top of the hill.”

“So what have you been doing all day?” Larius asked.

“Just getting to know the village, the people, to know what I’m working with.”

“I see. So this is the way you work. Fair enough. Just don’t get too friendly.” He let out a loud laugh.

“And…” Cladius said. “I was thinking of importing hemp clothes. The women’s industry was quite good.”

“That plant.” Larius squeezed his lips. “It was also used in some rituals. Those rituals we referred to.”

“We’re talking about the roots.” Cladius continued. “Have you seen the quality of the fabric? It’s quite good. It is similar to silk if sewn properly. Perhaps we could offer it as a cheaper alternative.”

“Well, the distributors from the Great Trading Road won’t like it.”

“So?”

“We’ll think about it,” Larius said, clearing his throat.

Cladius’ eyebrows raised.

“And… So… They haven’t found these people. Have they? The terrorists,” Cladius said.

“No,” Floranius said.

“How often have they checked?”

“They do routine checks. They send a few soldiers here and there,” Florianus said.

“Did they not get my orders?” Larius asked. “I told them to scan the whole thing. What if we send a full on invasion?”

“Invasion?” Cladius raised an eyebrow.

“Hold it right there. I know what to do.” Larius stood up. His one eye sparkled in the light. “I know.”

“What?” Cladius asked anxiously.

“We can’t find them? Big deal. We’ll burn down the whole thing.”

“Burn it? Burn what?”

“The forest of course. Besides, we need to make way for farming fields. Keep that in mind. Why don’t we do it now?”

“But… The forest, it’s important,” Cladius said.

“We’re changing everything here. But, you’re right. Let’s do some hunting ourselves before. You’re correct, there’d be no fun in it if we burn it all now. We’ll enjoy some hunting before the winter gets too cold. More fuel to burn.”

Cladius swallowed.

“And we’ll start hunting right away. About these bears. I love hunting them stinking bears. Let’s hunt them all first, and display them in the town square, along with those stinking forest rats that keep killing the soldiers.”

Suddenly, Florianus clapped.

“Yes. Let’s solve these problems once and for all,” he said.

“That’s my boy,” Larius smiled.