Chapter 2
Alpine Mountains
“Could you repeat that please?”
“The entire area of Vicenzo is being destroyed by the Iberian Empire. It won’t be safe to stay here.” Luna nearly screamed the last part, but knowing better she managed to keep her voice at a steady whisper. Well, a hiss or cough was admittedly more accurate, but that wasn't the point. They needn’t the attention.
Alan added “It’s the truth... the imperials are burning everything to the ground. Villages, crops- people have either run or been killed. Not died, killed. Murdered! It’s like an all-out war has broken out.”
“And they’re losing...” Luna muttered.
“It’s the so-called enemy in the mountains...” Blaan told the members of the Lupus tribe, his wolf-like ears twitched as he added “They’ve been pushing the Imperial Army out of the mountains, so they’re resorting to this.”
“But to scorch the earth so...” one of the older members of the tribe muttered.
“It leaves us with little options and time.” Blaan admitted.
Luna shook her head and said “Perhaps, but regardless, we must act swiftly!”
The Lupus people were not known for their weakness. Their wolf-like ears, unlike dogs, were sharper. They weren’t ones to panic. Not as subservient. The lone act of their ears lowering and tails stiffening was enough to express their unease. Still, the men of the village only eyed the other. Everything felt a little quieter, and it allowed everyone to consider what they were facing.
Their entire village was nothing to boast about. A few tents, a few bows and arrows for hunting, a few blades for self-defense, and even some of the girls like her would often have to go off on scouting missions. They were in no position to face the most powerful army in the world or the enemy that was defeating them so unequivocally.
“They’ll begin moving up the trails sooner or later. We can either meet them or flee further up the mountains.”
It was her father who finally spoke. The man’s arms crossed, old scars visible in his sleeveless shirt.
One of the women asked “Can the old and sick make the journey? We can carry the little ones but-”
An old man barked “Worry about yourselves. If we can’t, then we can’t, no use losing everyone over it.”
Blaan tried another suggestion, “Would it be possible to try and side with the Iberians? If they’re desperate-”
The old man barked and interrupted him immediately, saying “Even if they did, they’d keep you all on a tight leash and hold hostage anyone who couldn’t fight, and anyone who could, would be used as frontline troops that would be the first to die in any combat. The Imperials learned their lessons from past uprisings. It would be a worthless sacrifice to side with them.”
Lune crossed her arms, mirroring her father. His gaze turned to the road that led to their village, a look in his eyes she recognized all too well.
Running it is…
Imperial Capital of Iberia
“Ah! A good shot, dear brother!” Lucious said with a grin as he pulled the string on his crossbow back.
Antonius had a more common bow. He pulled the string back but didn’t secure it to any mechanisms as he carefully held the bow between his fingers. With only the subtlest movement, he released the arrow that flew straight into the side of a rock near the pond and shattered it in two.
The fields of their palace grounds were still plenty green and bright as spring continued to transform into the earliest stages of summer. Trees and bushes were carefully maintained by their servants, the trails were kept clean. If anyone were to doubt the glory of their empire, they needed to only peer at what the two sons of the emperor called their “backyard” to realize just how powerful they truly were.
And yet...
“Ah! Another good shot!” Lucious said, grin widening.
Antonious only sighed, stepping back before grabbing his pouch and taking a sip of water. Or was it perhaps wine?
Lucious couldn’t care less as he lifted his crossbow and shot an arrow right into the bowl of fruits they’d set up across the crystalline pond with a simple pressing of the mechanism’s trigger.
“And as precise as an Imperial soldier should be. Really, dear brother, it may not have the range but... there’s just a certain charm to the crossbow.” He added with a confident grin.
“A politician shouldn’t bother with matters of killing. Leaders have the killing done for them.”
“Leaders know when to get their hands dirty.”
Antonius blinked incredulously, opening his mouth to disagree, but no words of disagreement emerged. Instead, he lifted his bow once more and took another shot. The arrow flew true, fast, and with as much conviction as could be expected of any bowman.
He missed again.
“Good shot!”
“Oh, shut up.”
“Oh, but I mean it. The speed and power behind the arrow is excellent. Sure your aim is off, assuming you did not intend to hit that specific blade of grass over there. But what’s truly important my dear brother is that you take the shot.”
“Must you be such a nuisance in our conversations?”
“You seem to enjoy them.”
“Your presumptions are not as accurate as your shots.”
Lucious laughed at that, but the moment was cut off when one of the Praetorians approached. The soldier’s purple cape was a stark color in the green garden, but like most things in their great empire, it was a symbol of power.
And yet...
“Sirs, the emperor wishes to see both of you in the throne room.”
“Did our father say why?” Antonius asked, readying yet another arrow.
“Yes, it is to discuss new information on the enemy in the Alpine mountains.”
The man needn’t have said more.
***
Lucious observed his father with as neutral an expression as he could muster, but the man was shaking ever so slightly where he sat. Leg jumping up and down like an excited teenager. His hands tapped his throne in an unsteady rhythm. His generals appeared uncertain, and the hooded figure in the middle of the room was quite frankly not helping matters. Its ragged hood was worn and rotten, not something anyone should wear in such a sacred room. The shifting tail was arguably a greater offense. Already devoid of any fur, the way its pale, boney structure swayed on the smooth clean floor left disgusting little marks that Lucious forced himself not to scowl at.
As the generals gathered around them, his father finally asked “Please let us know how progress goes in the Alpine Mountains.”
Seljuk spoke in a voice Lucious found grating but he kept the thought to himself.
“The enemy from another world has terrifying weaponry, Emperor. Their arrows pluck our fliers from the sky like hunters killing birds and they now have to fly cautiously low and far away to survive. Their armored chariots crush our infantry like grapes, and would have crushed our cavalry had the late General Atilla not managed to withdraw many from the field on time. Even then, their mighty thunder finds Imperial Soldiers nowhere near the barbarians and slaughters them where they stand.”
“How is such a disgrace possible?!” Emperor Adrian Sol Traianus demanded, his tapping fingers balling into a fist that he promptly smashed onto his marble throne, only hurting himself, not that he showed it.
“My spies have been unable to get close enough to understand the exact process, but they utilize a weapon that appears much like a large tube that points to the sky. They adjust the tube’s positions at times, often after these strange boxes many carry make some incomprehensible sound, and after a moment, these weapons erupt and launch massive projectiles into the air. These projectiles then slam into Imperial Forces leagues away with such force that many are killed immediately. Sometimes these projectiles break apart and spread out into much smaller ones, creating a rain of metal arrows that rip men to shreds. Sometimes the projectiles also erupt, spreading fire and death that swallows entire groups of soldiers.”
“But how can they know where our men are?!”
“My spies have been observing them this past week, and we have seen various groups of men, often no more than eight or ten, push on foot through the mountains, trailing Imperial troops from a distance and, perhaps in a manner similar to my tribe’s way of communicating, send information back to the camps where the large tubes launch their projectiles from.”
The men were silent for a moment. The sudden, horrible information made the air feel so heavy Lucious felt himself waver slightly where he stood.
Then, nervously, his voice trembling, the emperor asked “Can your people capture or kill these men?”
“We plan on it. They are quite vigilant, but we are hoping for an opportunity to present itself to capture one alive. Once we do, the special slaves from the east will work their magic and we may gain enough information to truly hurt them.”
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His father suddenly perked up, his voice stronger as he asked “There is good news then?”
“Yes. Their carriages are too large for the mountain passes and we have yet to see any of the metal birds the Darius expedition encountered. And with the scorched earth policy already taking effect, they will have to slow down to properly supply their forces. Without their carriages, men will have to carry everything or stop while they wait to bring in these metal birds. Either way, this suits us more and gives us opportunities to hurt them.”
"Then the matter is settled. We may carry on at our leisure." Luscious tried, smiling at his father.
His father looked deep in thought.
"Father? Would you care to join Anthonius and myself in a good old-fashioned hunt?"
His father said nothing, the generals remained silent, and General Tiberius specifically appeared frustrated.
"Oh come on, the mountains are doing their job. Now is not the time to act like little girls about to meet their suitor!"
His father, now calmer, spoke slowly while continuing to look ahead "Quite the opposite. Now is exactly the time to plan what to do. We need decisive action now more than ever."
Tiberius nodded, the older general adding with a stern expression "Even if it takes them but a month to break through the mountains, if we are unable to stop them in open fields, then we must at least deny them the land."
"Yes, and you're already scorching the earth for leagues. Vizcenzo is already on the chopping block, father, so what more can be done? I sincerely doubt the demi-humans there will be spared so the enemy gaining collaborators is unlikely and if your orders are even partly followed the land will be uninhabitable for generations."
No one spoke.
Feeling confident, Luscious pressed his point, "And this is assuming the cowards are willing to keep fighting. Imagine the supply lines for such magic. Even if they have magical chariots, can you imagine how much effort that would take? To keep enough men fed from here to the Alpines? And this is assuming they refuse to negotiate to the end. No matter how you see it, father, our men are doing their best and…" he shrugged, "...it seems to be working at the moment."
Tiberius replied, "Underestimating the enemy is dangerous."
"How am I underestimating them? Am I not merely making observations based on what we know now?"
Tiberius fell silent.
"But by all means, if you think there is some obscure detail I missed…"
To his irritation, Seljuk interrupted him with a cough.
"If I may, General Octavius and Warlock Augustine have some ideas they sent for approval."
Emperor Adrian perked up slightly.
"Mainly for the scorched earth campaign…"
Luscious scowled now but remained determinedly silent. He crossed his arms as they decided the fate of peasants with as much energy and interest as they would discuss that evening's dinner.
Alpine Mountains
American Command Post
“None at all?” General Abrams asked, eyes hopeful for a shred of good news.
The younger officer only shook his head to emphasize the emphatic "No, general."
There was an uneasy silence amongst the men in the tent that was now the main American Command post in the region. Some crossed their arms. Others clasped their hands and eyed the map on the table they each sat around. “Command Post” felt misleading somehow. Sure, it was a large tent, with a large table, full of crude maps with built symbols for different elements littered all around its surface, painting a picture of the ongoing invasion. Not all that different from what they’d all seen in Korea, or in his case, World War Two.
But still…
The Air Force colonel was the first to break the silence, gaining their attention as he said “They’re barbarians. Plain and simple.”
General Abrams glanced through the open slot on the tent that made for a crude window. The fields outside surrounded by misty mountains felt all too familiar. The mountains spread around them like walls that almost appeared to cover the horizon itself as a few snow-tipped peaks touched even the clouds above. Perhaps it may have brought memories to some of the Appalachian or the Rockies, but it didn’t have quite the same air. The dryness of it all. The Rockies were bluer, they felt a tad colder, wetter. The Appalachians were greener, fertile, greener trees, and bluer rivers that flowed through it all.
This new world felt like neither of those.
Despite the green fields and aquamarine creeks, they were based around, and the blue sky, their surroundings appeared to be not only hotter but older. Yet it was home to many people. The mass graves not too far from where they stood were a testament to that, but so were the burnt-down villages their scouts were finding.
A Navy captain added “He’s right. They did the same to the people in Dallas, I can’t say we should expect much more from them.”
The Marine colonel spoke louder than the rest, countering with an almost angry “Well we can’t just ignore the civilians, otherwise we’ll never properly establish ourselves here.”
The Air Force colonel said “Will it matter? Presumably, they’re turning all civilians into combatants. Look at these pictures. Empty or burnt-down villages all over the mountains. Recently, too! Reminds me of the Japs...”
“I don’t like where you’re going with this.” Abrams said, his mind slowly moving to the memories of how that war ended.
"Me neither." Colonel Masters, the man in charge of the 3rd Marines Expeditionary Brigade, spoke softly.
“Good God, man, you’re a Marine!”
“Yes, and if you point me or my men to an enemy, we’ll slaughter them.”
“But?”
“But I don’t like this suggestion that everyone in this world is possibly hostile.”
“That's what was happening in Vietnam. If we had-”
“Enough...” General Abrams finally interrupted at the mention of the Southeast Asian nation. Controversies like that would have to wait.
“These reports are concerning enough, but let’s talk data. We’ve been here a week. What exactly is our collective progress? Masters?”
The Marine colonel said, “I have my guys pushing east, setting up camps, my engineers are with yours, blasting out the roads so we can get our trucks and tanks through quicker.”
“How’s the progress on the mountain passes?”
“Slow. This area here is somewhat hilly, flat, mostly workable, but... once you’re out of it, the jagged peaks, the cliffsides... it ain’t the best environment for a tank.”
“We did it in Korea, we can do it here.”
“Not exactly. Korea already had wider roads for trucks and tanks... we’re starting from scratch here. With heavier tanks than what we had in 1950.”
“Then we’ll have to start depending on the flyboys a lot more.”
The Air Force colonel said “My boys are ready to go once the strips are set up. I’d argue we should stop pushing out and focus on building our airfields first. We can have Thunderchiefs, Sabers, Phantoms, Starfighters, whatever you want, all pounding these savages back to the bronze age before the end of the month.”
“I would argue that range would become an issue then. One place to land and take off... not great for fuel. We still need better maps, the lay of the land is making it difficult even with that wolf girl's images. Radars are picking up the slack but it’s taking some time given the terrain and lack of air assets.”
The Marine colonel interjected then, “Actually, that does bring up a point some of my guys brought up to me.”
The Navy captain turned and said, “The constellations, right?”
“Yeah... the constellations.”
Alpine Mountains
20:08 hours
“Telling you, it’s the big dipper, just... backwards.” Milo muttered.
Isaac ignored him, eyeing the picture of Sheena tucked neatly into his journal while writing next to it. He focused on trying to write in the limited firelight, hard as it may have been, while his mind wondered if it would be legible enough to mail home once they got back to the main Forward Operating Base. Perhaps it could add a sense of authenticity as he wrote in the darkness.
And it was dark.
Training out in the mountains, away from the bright lights of Los Angeles had, in theory, prepared them all for the environment, yet he didn’t have to worry about silent arrows then, or possible ambushes waiting just outside their perimeter watch’s continuous vigil. They were in a war zone now. The front. Reinforcing that fact was the occasional echo of distant artillery. Yet unlike in the jungles of Vietnam or the tense borders between East and West, if someone was killed by an arrow, no one would hear it. Even suppressors made more sound than bows.
And yet, the guys chatted away, and who was he to act any different? He shut his journal and tucked it away, fastening his M1955 flak jacket ever so slightly as he did so, hoping it would stop an arrow. Or three.
“Yeah, I’m telling you guys, the theory that this is some mirror of our world is making more and more sense by the day. Even their letters are almost identical to the Romans.”
Corporal Aronov, with a bored, expressionless tone, said “That’s very interesting, Frank.”
The corporal kept looking over his rifle as if trying to check if the wooden frame of the rifle had swollen in the time they’d been deployed.
Jumping at the chance, Isaac Hilaire said “So you're saying there’s like… a parallel Asia, America, on and on?”
“Well I don't know, but there are multiple theories I've read up on, and the consensus-”
“Man, shut up, what I wanna know is how to say hi to the pretty girls.”
Isaac knew Milo just had to speak up then.
“What pretty girls? Everything I’ve seen so far’s dead, and... Frank, correct me if I’m wrong but hygiene back in Roman times wasn’t exactly great, right?”
Their interpreter shrugged, saying “Hygiene was better than what we’d see in the Dark Ages and they promoted cleanliness, but it’d still not be comparable to what we have back home. Assuming you’re not a country bumpkin.”
“Hey...” several guys growled in ominous unison.
Isaac brought it around, however, “Point is, girls here are probably not going to be offering much ‘side from… well… bugs.”
Corporal Aronov said “Disease, opportunists, gals looking for a quick buck… we’re above that. We’re here to civilize the decadent, barbaric, un-Christian world that spreads before us now.”
The Marines around the campfire somewhat grumbled in various non-commital agreements.
The atmosphere just wasn’t the same. They would chat, but the paradoxically familiar and alien sky above lorded over them like a watchful eye that kept even the most immature of United States Marines watchful even as they tried to relax after the trek through the mountain roads.
Forests were vaguely visible in the distance, and the jagged peaks were like black rips in the starry night sky. Dead trees cast uneven shadows that rustled in the breeze. A few clouds rolled overhead, and they could hear the various familiar noises of the night. Crickets. Owls. Artillery.
Hilaire thought about asking about girls back home, but the thought was instantly dashed aside as someone shouted.
“Halt!”
Everyone went tense for a split second. Hilaire had felt a sense of unease before but it was terrifying how fast it shifted from unease to sudden terror. The shout had been startled, and it could mean anything. Maybe he bumped into someone from another platoon, maybe he just jumped at his own shadow, but maybe there was a bad guy in the darkness. Or two. Or a hundred.
Arms reached for rifles, and a few Marines got up when the perimeter watch shouted back “Hey, get the 'terp over here!”
Frank perked up, but so did everyone else around him, with Aronov standing up first. It wasn’t long before the platoon was made aware of exactly what was there.
There were four of them, all dark-haired, all a little pale, and most fascinating of all, each with wolf-like ears and tail.
Isaac winced when he saw them. Oh, he’d read the information, who hadn’t? There were pictures, and guides given to them and created using information provided by the cooperative demi-human stateside, but to see them in person was wholly different.
Human bodies, human faces, human arms and legs- but the twitchy ears twisted downward like a dog’s, their tails shifting slightly, and something in their all too human eyes seemed to hold the slightest hint of a wild animal. Yet their arms were raised, and they each looked to understand the danger they could be in and the uncertainty that came with their actions as opposed to animals that only had a few instinctual responses.
It was the woman in the group that, with a shaky wave of her already raised hands, said “S-salve.”