Micky didn’t know what to feel as he watched the man be towed away. On the one hand, it was a revenge on a man he would never be able to touch. Not truly, on the other, the dish felt cold and bitter. Micky understood, in noble houses you were either the strong partner or you were the weak partner sold off to the highest bidder.

No matter who ‘purchased’ his hand in marriage the man would no longer have any say in their life. He was the weak partner, and therefore the courts would always side with the strong partner that would better serve society as a whole. It was a justification, he knew, he also knew that he might have had a fate very similar to his former legate’s should his family had been of any greater standing, or dire circumstance. No, should the need arise, his fate might have been worse, and he would have ended up as naught but a bed warmer for some rich power player.

It was not uncommon to self off the weak children in starving households after they were deemed useless from the divining. It would be better to feed the other mouths, and the childs own mouth, to simply sell them off to slavery, or worse. So Micky could see himself in the man, should his fate have only been slightly different. To see such a fate, even if deserved, it disturbed something inside himself. Something vulnerable, something that screamed to attack in order to defend itself. Micky quashed it down, now was not the time.

The army had suffered a devastating defeat and would soon be back to where it had started. All the ground Amelia had gained was almost instantly lost the moment she left. It was a clusterfuck. Totaly, FUBAR without repair. And while the legate was at fault, there was no way that this could continue. Worse, they were now headless, say what you would about the legate, at least the army had a unifying ethos while he was around. Now, Micky could only see what was clearly going to be a grapple for power. The Senate of Centurions would never agree to anything, and at best would group up by those that had a similar ethic. This would then lead many unviable strategies with many armies, as long as they stroked the right ego, and many viable ones without enough soldiers to carry them out, Micky almost wanted to cry. Worse, there was no way he could run from it despite seeing the impending doom from across the Aegis Sea.

Micky left the tent, he had things to do and not much time to do them in. He had barely set up when he was abducted in front of his soldiers. They were probably worried, if not for himself, than their own fates. Not to mention his second was abducted as well, likely from when she came to protect him. Not that it helped, but he couldn’t fault her for the sentiment.

Micky found the camp in relative order when he had arrived. Though there was an obvious pale over the camp, they knew that their fates would not be decided in a day. Better to set up a place to stay then to await orders. Though Micky would have them redistribute the rows. Just because he was away and not able to oversee the distribution of tents didn’t mean that they should ignore regs and slipshod the place together.

Unfortunately Maymay was already taken away to travel back to her mother. While it was stated that she would not take Maymay back under any circumstances, it was highly unlikely that she would allow her daughter to simply die. Luckily, he did receive correspondence later, that she was recovering and that he would see her at Gervarn, School for the gifted and privileged. Also known as the state run school for the nobility to play games of statecraft with the mortals.

After several hours of yelling at people. And some more of reassuring that ‘Yes, nothing happened.’ and ‘No, you are not being reassigned.’ Micky received a message from a scribe. It read basically “When this session of inquiries and inquest is over, meet up for a special senate gathering.”

Micky forwarded the message to Prin, his de facto bodyguard and later arrived at the designated tent with some guidance. He raised a brow at the fact that it was so quiet. Even as he lifted the tent flap he found that there wasn’t even much sound for the sound damping enchantment to, well dampen. Instead, the occupants were speaking casually at slightly above speaking volume to carry across the tent.

What was slightly frightening though, was the nature of the conversations… “Ah, it is such a shame, I hear that your third son will be sent to the grinder shortly. Do not worry, my soldiers will take good care of them!” The grinder was the valley of the dead (not [Dead]) that was being protected by the general bronze wall himself. It was a charnel house as the kingdom of Aene constantly sent soldiers in to take back land from the necromancer. It never succeeded, however, should one be of a certain level and have competent allies, the levels were amazing. Or so Micky heard.

“Oh nonsense! I have it on good authority that I will be having you second daughter under my command soon. I shall give her personal attention! She shall gain at least 10 levels in no time, I swear on death!” Of course the senior centurion in question did not state whose death. These were some of the tamer, and less convoluted comments being traded around. Some were so convoluted that Micky couldn’t exactly make heads or tales of it. Why would the price of fur have anything to do with the minor famine of a wolfman village… ‘Oooh, that’s dark’. Micky thought.

Micky found a seat. It appeared that almost everyone had brought a bodyguard that stood imposingly behind them. With this crowd casually threatening each other as a warm up session, Micky didn’t blame them. His partners were two grizzled vets that looked the least imposing of the lot. Though Micky doubted they were, at least they weren’t trading casual death threats of friends and family.

“Order, order you dry old blood bags! Call to order this session of the senior senate.” Stated a grizzled vet. While the two next to Micky, a old man that looked like a hunched grandfather, and an old woman that looked like a grandmother next door seemed bored. This one was covered in scars and wrinkles. It was almost hard to tell what was a scar and what was a wrinkle. It was definitive that you wouldn’t be able to tell where a scar ends and wrinkle begins.

“We are here to respond to the coming threat of counter offensive. We started it, now they will finish us.” Stated the man.

“Ha! They started it when they attacked unprovoked and without warning. We’ll bloody them up right good!” Blustered a weak looking man. He seemed middle aged instead of the eclectic collection of old codgers that most of the meeting was made of.

“Pah, like that’ll happen. Just wait till’ some other young buck comes to try their hand. What would we truly do? We’re no legate, we shouldn’t even be here and now. Centurions should never be commandin’ an army.” Stated another grey haired old man.

“Order, order! This is not up for debate. It’s on good authority that they will take a week to arrive. It will be lucky if we have an army by then. No, we need to vote a legate to command us.” This received a load of grumbles. “Fine, at least a commander in chief. We must have unity!” Stated the speaker of the house. They seemed to be taking charge of the situation.

“You knew round ere’ kid?” Asked the woman next to Micky.

“Pah, course he is. You see that doe eyed stair? Ha! Over his head. Don’t let the bluster fool you kid. This is how these things usually go. How we decide how to move the army really. You must be new to the senior senate. This is where the real power is. Well, would be. But that’s only with legates at the minimum. Usually it’s generals deciding things and having a pissing match though. No real army would leave it to centurions to decide the fate of an army. Just ain’t right.”

Micky was about to respond when the speaker screamed for order again. “Alright, so we’ve decided to elect a temporary chief. So, now the question is who? This will be a valuable promotion that could make your career.” Stated the speaker.

“Pah, he means break it he does. Their looking for a scapegoat on the dirty. There’s no way this doesn’t end in a clusterfuck. And before you ask, no we don’t have the power to actually elect a commander in chief, let alone a legate.” Said the old man. The granny next to him just nodded her head, she didn’t feel the need to interrupt the old man this time.

“If that’s the case then I elect the former legate’s protege. I feel that it is best that they succeed their former mentor and patron.” Stated the speaker. The votes were distributed in and odd system. Those that voted for, raised their hand. Those that voted against, put their hands across their chest. And lastly, those that abstained did neither of those.

Micky, of course, abstained. Of the 27 gathered together, 17 voted for, 7 against, and 3 abstained. Micky’s partners in crime voted against. Micky didn’t feel that he had enough information to vote either way, so he abstained.

“As more than double vote for than the collective of against or abstain then I would like to open the floor to our new commander in chief to decide our strategy, senior centurion Micky Anderson.” Stated the speaker.

‘What, what?’ Thought Micky as all eyes turned to him.

“I reject!” Stated Micky. There was no way that he was about to accept a ‘promotion’ to scapegoat.

“It has been decided chief. You are our newly elected leader.” Stated the speaker.

“I do not believe that you speak for me, sir. I told you that I reject the appointment.” Stated Micky.

“Now now, you can come up with a strategy later. In the meantime we shall all sign the petition, this meeting is adjourned.” Stated the speaker. Quickly those that voted for walked up to sign the scribes appointment papers. After all of their signatures were placed onto the paper they just as quickly left the meeting. The old man smacked his back while the woman patted his shoulders. They left before signing, clearly they weren’t going to be a part of this. It seemed that all those that did not vote for, were leaving without signing the papers.

Micky continued to argue against the assignment but nobody bothered to listen. Soon he had assignment papers stating that he was the commander in chief of the army. Papers that he himself did not sign. Just as quickly, to him at least, he was in new quarters in a new tent, that formerly belonged to the former legate. Micky looked around at his new office. He really wanted to throw a tantrum right now, but he was more shocked that he was the commander of the entire army. Well, it could hardly be called an army at a few million. It was more a detachment that was sent out to acquire resources. But it was still an independent force that he was the sole commander of.