Harren walked the King’s Road at the front of the entire Fifth Cohort. To either side of the road, a palisade had been erected to shield the length of the road from the rocks, stones and arrows that seemed to fly from the surrounding alleys at passing patrols. It’d been a week since the fire had taken the south-eastern quadrant of the Outwalls and, in that time, the Marshall had taken extreme efforts to maintain control of the southern road from which supplies and men streamed in from Venar.

His cohort was no longer alone in its duty to maintain order beyond the wall. The other cohorts were being forced to pay their tithe in blood as well. And it had been bloody. In the past week, over a hundred men were dead or missing. To bolster morale and replenish their numbers, Longreen had recalled two cohorts of the fifth legion from the surrounding countryside. They’d be regrouping in Blaven, a day’s march to the south, and ought to be arriving at the city within two weeks.

Harren was looking forward to their arrival. The general staff meetings of the sixth legion had been growing more tense by the day. It felt as if they were under siege within their own city.

Even now, he could see hungry eyes watching him from the alleyways whenever they passed a gap in the palisade. At every entrance, there were a score of men assigned to check the residents for weapons before allowing them onto the road. Similar checks were made for any caravans entering the city. The merchants raised uproar over delayed deliveries, so Longreen hung a few of their number and the complaints seemed to vanish overnight.

Harren ran a hand over the hilt of his sword, wincing as he did from the tenderness of his hands. He was far from fit for battle, his hands still blistered and body still aching. But, he was well enough to walk through the city, which meant he was well enough to share the risks with his men.

He glanced over his shoulder at them, taking in their wary glances toward the edges of the road. Even with the palisade protecting them, they still clutched at their shields, ready to raise them at a moment’s notice.

He hardly blamed them. He was at the edge of his frayed nerves himself. In the distance, he could see the sea of tents where the refugees huddled in the surrounding hills. They were a hotbed of Sons activity, far worse than the Outwalls had ever been. The first few days had seen rampant robberies and the pillaging of passing caravans vital to the stability of the city.

Longreen’s response had been as swift as it was brutal. Halfway up the King’s Road, the palisade wall gained occupants- dissidents nailed to the wood and given their wings in a crude fashion.

Hundreds lined the wall to either side of him, their voices long since faded. Some few still lived, their dead eyes following him as they hung from puss-filled wounds. Ravens feasted on the dead, most already missing their eyes and much of the flesh from their face. The smell was ungodly.

It had been shocking at first, but it was amazing how quick one adapted to horror as it becomes the new norm. He barely noticed the bodies, intent on their destination at the far end of the road. A forward base had been established at the edge of the city to support patrols for miles down the King’s Road. The entire third cohort had been assigned to that duty, with the others picking up their former duties within the walls.

Carts pulled off to the side of the road as his men crossed their paths. The drivers peered nervously at him and the corpses along the wall, doubtless unsettled by the changes outside the city since their last visit. He could hardly blame them. As he passed, the merchants bowed their head in deference, but it barely registered in his mind.

He released a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding as they reached the end of the road. Harren led their column into the forward base, stepping through the gate into a clearing manned by hundreds more Venaran troops. The King’s Road passed directly through the center of the base, many travelers pausing within to ask about the changes. New Barracks were being built using building supplies requisitioned from the surrounding area. A stone wall surrounded the complex, far from complete but already built higher than Harren was tall.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

It was amazing what a single legion could accomplish in so short a time when properly mobilized. Within a month, he expected this would be a bastion to rival that within the inner city.

His men passed through the buzzing activity, their numbers making traffic part for them like a knife through butter. He had orders to mobilize the entirety of the Fifth and report to Peltar at the forward base for further orders.

While the barracks were being built, half the clearing was dedicated to dozens of canopied tents which served as mess halls, temporary housing, and command centers. As they neared the center of the complex, Harren raised a closed fist, signaling for a halt.

As one, the marching boots cracked their final step. Harren ordered the men to fall out, letting them disperse

Harren shifted his gaze to Gavin and nodded toward the command tent. Without another word, he made his way towards it, quartermaster in tow. The guards outside bowed their heads at his approach. With the mottled flesh along the left side of his face, it was very rare for him to go unrecognized these days. The thought made him grimace, but he shook it from his mind. He had more important concerns.

He ducked through the tent flap and entered the well-furnished tent. The floor was lined with carpets to hide the dirt beneath while curtains hung from the ceiling to cordon off private areas of the tent. A table large enough to fit the prefectus of every cohort occupied the center of the tent, surrounded by folding chairs. The rest of the tent was austere and devoid of decoration.

Peltar sat at the head of the table on the far side of the room next to a stack of parchment, quill in hand. Harren stepped forward into the room and saluted, feeling Gavin do the same behind him.

“At ease,” Peltar said without looking up. “Take a seat.”

Harren did as commanded and settled into a chair to the General’s right. He waited as Peltar’s eyes flicked across the page and he finally signed his name at the bottom, shifting the parchment to a pile on the right.

Peltar sighed. “How are your men holding up?” he asked.

“Poorly,” Harren answered. “They’ve been running double shifts for nearly a week, and on a day many should be resting, we were called to mobilize.”

Peltar nodded. “The sentiment is shared across the legion, but relief will be coming from the fifth legion before long.”

“And who is relieving the fifth legion?” Harren asked.

Peltar didn’t answer for a long moment, letting the question hang in the air. “If the situation develops, the King will provide aid.”

Harren nodded as if he believed it. “What are our orders?”

Peltar looked as if he didn’t want to say, but forced the word out anyways, “The next competition in the Lord Marshal’s games requires the contestants to leave the city, and some of the nobility will seek to follow as is the custom.”

Harren’s jaw dropped. “You can’t be serious. They’re still planning to hold that?”

Peltar nodded. “I received positive confirmation today.” He took a deep breath. “Your cohort is the least necessary to secure the city, so you will be providing security for the contestants as they leave the city confines and the nobility who choose to follow.”

It took a moment for that to fully digest in Harren’s mind. “That’s insanity.”

“Those are orders,” Peltar countered.

Gavin took the opportunity to speak up, “If we’re to travel to Calumn, we’ll need to requisition supplies for three days of travel, and enough horses to properly equip scouting parties and a vanguard.”

“All accounted for,” Peltar said. He shook his head. “I don’t like it either, but the Marshal is seeking to instill a sense of normalcy.”

Harren laughed. “Normalcy?” He shook his head, mirroring Peltar. The silence lingered a moment before Harren continued, “Like you said, orders are orders. I’ll array my men along the King’s Road, and we’ll regroup once our charges are gathered here.”

Peltar nodded. “Cassandra Longreen will be accompanying you. From my experience, she will take up a great deal of your time and be a constant thorn in your side.”

Harren ran a hand through his hair.

Peltar met his gaze evenly. “You are to follow her orders and whims so long as they don’t jeopardize the safety of your charges.”

“I can manage her,” Harren said, “I’ve known her for ages.”

Peltar leaned back in his chair and regarded Harren. “Sure,” he said, unconvinced.

Harren shrugged, looking back toward the Outwalls. “Hard to imagine a better way to paint a target on our backs.”

“If the Sons call, you will answer,” Peltar said.

Harren sighed, leaning back in his chair. “The Red Sun Rises.”