Seed of a Rift Tyrant [LitMOBA]

Chapter 40 - Marching Out and the Emperor in the Crow


"...The First Legion are marching on the capital."

The words hung in the air.

A chaotic uproar filled the gathering night as the youths throughout the amphitheatre had vastly mixed responses. Around Palinus the reactions were quiet questions and fear, but the majority of the conscripts were from the 2nd hill with a more military background who knew exactly what this meant… and they were incensed - several of the young men had jumped to their feet and began yelling questions at the tribune.

The outdoor amphitheatre was filled with noise as hundreds of people spoke at once.

Taking the opportunity to sit back down, Palinus joined Seline who seemed lost in thought.

"What does that mean." he asked.

She gave him an odd expression.

"It means civil war Pal…" she had a sharp look in her eye as she glanced up at the tribune standing silently on the stage, "and we are being sent away to the rift trials to avoid it."

The next few hours were a blur of high intensity standing around and waiting.

In the way that Palinus had come to understand was endemic to military organisation they were rushed from place to place where they would be hurried along as fast as they could go, only to get where they were going and be forced to wait.

After the crowd had been browbeaten into submission the team had been hurriedly herded past one of the loot chests. Palinus hadn't been handed anything but he saw objects that he suspected were calculii passed to Bruchts, Seline and Vesuvia.

They hadn't had time to discuss what they got as they left the amphitheatre. While the rest of the training legion turned right and returned to their barracks, Palinus and the team turned left - joined by most of the first century and the nominated teams.

They walked awkwardly in their small groups towards the quarter store. The experience of returning to the large warehouse filled with tables was more uncomfortable than reminiscent in the light of torch stones and surrounded by people they had very recently been fighting against.

Dozens of conscripts joined them as they stood at tables being yelled at, poked with pins and scissors as they were stripped of their conscript tunics and fitted with another uniform. Despite the urgency of the staff they still spent most of their time standing around and waiting, and it was awkward.

The evening had stretched well into night by the time they were back outside.

In the light of flickering torch stones they stood together in a new century. Standing directly to Palinus's right was Vel, surrounded by his team - the former 111s. Their brown conscript tunics had been replaced with the vibrant red of the legion and on the 111s the uniform looked dashing, the arrogant team preened as they stood in their uniforms. Even the enigmatic Bakano had traded out their voluminous dark robes for red.

Scowling at the mage and their comfortable looking robe, Palinus couldn't help feel a creeping frustration. He hadn't been given an option for his uniform and he tugged at the uncomfortable leather straps of the leather armor that dug into his shoulders and cursed the new fabric of the red tunic against his skin that felt stiff and scratchy.

His discomfort looked like it was echoed by Rufian who mirrored him tugging at his own tunic. Something about the surrealness of the moment triggered the boys as they laughed at each other until they were shushed by several of the young men and women who surrounded them in the formation with a gesture.

Coming up a path towards them they could hear several voices in some sort of argument.

As they came into the light of the torch stones, Palinus recognised Tribune Asterius being berated by an aging soldier with a salt and pepper beard wearing the uniform and armor of an over-legion Centurion. The veteran soldier didn't seem to care that he was being observed by the century yelling at a superior officer as he continued his rant as they walked to the front of the formation.

"... and they have been here, what? ONE week some of them? What are you thinking, trying to take these children into the forests… they will march up the Via Sanguinis to early graves is what."

The man didn't pause for breath as he turned to face the conscripts.

"Greetings children! You are no longer conscripts, but I am not going to call you soldiers yet… it will take a bit more than walking in lines and wearing a uniform to prove yourselves." The veteran soldier turned his rant towards the young soldiers. Tribune Asterius moved as if to comment but chose to remain silent as the soldier glared at him. "I am Centurion Felusian, former commander of the First Legion, 3rd century … I am here to lead you up the Via Sanguinis!"

He paused to let the enormity of the statement sink in. They all knew of the blood road and the stories of battles fought against the Silvanmen along it.

"With the success of the recent campaign the blood road will not be as fierce as it can be. But do not mistake me - there will still be bloodshed before we reach our destination.

As to where we are going… All you need to know is that we are going into an area that is Stoneman mountains as much as it is Silvanmen forests. So if you were worried about the strange and scary Silvanmen Druids then think again, because you will be facing much stranger and scarier."

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As the centurion stared at the young men and women of the newly formed century he let the words hang and stared intensely into their faces.

"Hrmph!" Tribune Asterius cleared his throat, "Thank you Centurion Felusian, your guidance will be invaluable.

We will be marching North and meeting up with several similarly drafted centuries who will join my command. We will then continue until we reach the northern border where we will set up a command and begin the Rift Trials.

Today you will be marching out without fanfare, but if you are successful you will be marching back for a triumph…"

The tribune and the centurion explained the logistics of their march. In the brain fog of the long day, all Palinus heard was that they were marching through the night but that they had assurances they would be marching to a camp prepared in advance not too far away.

The exhaustion of the long day was affecting more than just Palinus as he saw several of the young soldiers in the century stumbling as they marched north despite the torchstones clearly lighting the well paved road.

"Well." Rufian commented, "I think we are in the legion now?"

"Hmm," Palinus hummed his uncertain agreement, "I think we kind of are? That happened quickly."

"We aren't really in the legion, you idiots. Weren't you listening?" Seline whispered sharply, "We are a special temporary militia unit acting adjunct to the First Legion."

"All heard is we are getting legion pay rates." Rufian replied.

"Yes we will be, but you don't have a writ until you are inducted-"

"Blah, blah.. Who cares about being a stuffy citizen?" Rufian cut off Seline's explanation.

In truth Palinus didn't care either, Seline was talking about a writ of service which would entitle them to citizenship. He was just happy to be leaving the capital finally.

"It's nice to be getting some spending money, but they could at least have had a little ceremony." Vesuvia griped.

"You heard Centurion Felusian," Seline replied. "You'll get a parade when you come back…"

The mood was strangely introspective for the normally boisterous group of teenagers: thinking of a distant future, uneasy with the sudden change of events and bone tired.

A part of Palinus agreed with Rufian, they were wearing legion uniforms and marching as a century in the Erulean Legion. It felt like it should be a bigger deal, but as he examined the emotion he found that he was less concerned with the status of the legion uniform as much as he was about the strength that it represented. He didn't want to be subject to anyone .

"I don't think I want to return to the capital." Palinus hadn't realised he had spoken the thought out loud until Bruchts responded.

"We haven't seen much of the world yet. The capital has its problems, but where my parents were from… it is a better place to be than most others."

"If we are going towards the Stoneman mountains, will we be going where they were from?" Palinus asked the big blonde boy.

"No…" Bruchts laughed at the question, "What we call the Stonemen Clans in Erulea is a very large group of people in an equally large area. In truth we would need to travel much further north and cross a sea to get to my parents homeland. We will be seeing someone we know though… when we cross the river in Tremona."

"YEEessss…" Rufian started excitedly before mellowing his volume to a hiss as he cracked his knuckles, "That idiot Marcus owes me a calculus."

"That is definitely Septimus VII!" Marcus's insistence pushed the volume of his voice above a whisper as he and Minucia stood in the stairwell leading down to the cellar.

"So you're saying that is Emperor Septimus." Minucia said flatly.

"Yes."

"Here in Tremona."

"Yes."

"In our taverna."

"Yes."

"Didn't we hear he was dead?"

"Yes."

"So the dead Emperor of Erulea is sitting in the corner of our taverna?"

"Yes… but he's not dead."

"You're an idiot Marcus." Minucia said with a laugh as she cast an ars that splashed him with a jet of foamy water and turned back to serve the couple of patrons who remained out this late. Their dingy little taverna, The Crow, catered largely to the merchants and boatmen who made a living where the road crossed the river.

"Bostar! How are you my friend?" Marcus pushed past Minucia to greet a dangerous looking man in dark leathers who came into the taverna.

"Well enough…" The man came to sit at the bar as he had done for the past couple of months, taking an offered cup of wine and a seat by the bar. Marcus pulled up a stool behind the bar and his own cup of wine as he waited for the man to start on another war story.

"... did I tell you about the time in Duroglenn…" Bostar's story trailed off before it even began as he noticed the man in the corner - the same man Marcus and Minucia had been discussing.

He hadn't reacted as Bostar walked into the room, but noticed the attention and glared back at Bostar with a hostile expression. As if daring him to interact.

Without a word Bostar stalked over to the dark corner table and sat down across from the hooded man, launching into a tense conversation.

"See!" Marcus whispered and subtly pointed at the pair

"See what?" Minucia asked.

"I heard that Bostar is a provocator. So his presence confirms that is the former emperor and they are doing something secretive like planning to retake the capital." His voice was intense.

"... idiot. You said yourself that Bostar retired from the under legion. They are probably just swapping war stories. They crowned a Tyrant only a few months ago, so the former emperor is certainly dead. No-one has attacked the capital in thousands of years!'

"I heard the 1st Legion was marching back down the Via Sanguinis…"

Minucia just sighed at her partner.

"So the former emperor has faked his own death."

"Yes."

"To come to Tremona."

"Yes."

"To a meeting with a provocator in our taverna."

"Yes."

"To arrange the most dangerous legion in the empire to attack the capital."

Minucia just sighed at her partner.

"You should focus on the present and stop believing the horse shit the gossip mongers are feeding you."

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