Legatus Lucius Alden

The Tiger’s Lair

Part III

-Nice to meet you son-

Most have a talent in losing men,

Few are capable of creating armies.

Baron Storm Nattas

Circa 189 NC

The Third Legion settled in Kas and worked on several projects whilst replenishing its force in the summer of 190 NC. Governor Macrinus green-lighted the rebuilding of the ‘Sovya Sector’ with most longhouses outright demolished before the end of the month. The east timber wall was brought down and became part of the permanent camp and its buildings. Work on the Military School, a massive three story square building occupying a city block, started immediately.

Several prominent structures were raised (or had work start on them), like the large Arms and Armour workshop and the Domed Market that soon turned into the heart of the city. The latter was funded in large part by a coalition of local merchants, who realized the potential of a never sleeping market, unaffected from weather.

The Legion construction crews widened the roads towards the Bloody Ridge and the Mouth. Trees were cut down on both sides and at twice the width of the road. The ground dug a meter down, the soil replaced with layers of gravel, cement, crashed stone and then a final sheet of cut slate with a drainage in the middle separating the two large lanes coming and going towards the city.

Northmen visited from Fenford to meet with the new Governor and Lucius. The Crafters Guild’s old leader also came to the city, the first appearance of the elusive dwarf in decades. Master Thersin Bonearm brought with him the richest dwarf in Fenford Dorad Onyxminer, of the famed miner family. Dorad wanted the opportunity to dig for metal at the nearby Bloody Ridge, after he’d found his business getting slowly usurped by the Jarl’s men back in Fenford.

While Governor Macrinus dealt with the city’s needs Lucius turned his attention in the army itself and set up his plans for what would eventually become the ‘Brazen Fourth’. Not even two months after he entered the city an influx of recruits came from the North, Sovya, Regia and even Lesia. Some of them were the Duke’s aggrieved opponents, Nords that wanted a taste of the wars to come, loyalists from Regia and plain criminals. Most of the new arrivals were typically looking for mercenary work of any kind, but with the Third stationed next to Kas they were absorbed there.

Lucius knowing that the Duke would respond soon, kept his eye on Rifjordal where the Juters forces were slowly gathering for an assault at the bridge of Halfostad. Despite what the Duke had feared, Lucius quickly learned the Jarl would have never attacked from Fenford as he could barely control the city there. The North was plagued by the long icy distances separating each opponent and shockingly poor intelligence. Legends and rumors creating more than what was there in reality.

At the end of the second month of summer, although it was probably a bit later than that, the Third Legion had 1760 Legionnaires into Four Cohorts (500 in the First, 420 in each of the other three), 200 Slingers (fifty of them were archers), 100 Cavalry and 200 Scouts (Half of them mounted light cavalry).

Those visiting the training grounds and the massive Castrum covering the whole east side of the city, soon realized there was a fifth Cohort size unit forming slowly. Given the number of civilians working inside the camp (A thousand at least over the two thousand plus the Legion had brought along) the news spread.

(Third month of summer 190 NC)

“Domus, Asina, Drusus and Fuscus,” Arrun said and Lucius nodded at the four men waiting behind him.

“I want a reliable man as commander of the City Guard, mister Fabianus.”

“I trust these four,” Arrun replied. “I’ve been working with them for a long time. They held your shields in the circle.”

“I remember. But I’ve made up my mind,” Lucius insisted.

“We hoped we’d keep working together milord.”

“You’ll continue to do so,” Lucius replied. “Under Macrinus. I want the Forts at the hands of people we can trust. You’ll be the city’s next Captain of the Guard.”

Arrun frowned. “Is there a way I could serve near your grace?” Lucius stared at him.

“I won’t stay here more than I have to Captain. I need to know I’m served after I depart.”

Arrun stood upright at attention.

“You shall milord.”

“Good,” Lucius replied. “Now, go to Macrinus to help him out. We dumped a lot on him.”

He stretched his arms when the men departed and glanced towards Faye’s internal balcony, but his wife moved about little these past days complaining the heat was ungodly in Kas. In reality Kas was probably colder than any city in the south by a very long margin. He set his eyes on the young scribe checking the notes he’d taken of his meetings.

“Mister Ramirus? I’ve asked for an update on the news from Regia.”

“Yes Legatus,” Ramirus said raising his head. “I have the missives here.”

Lucius had bought every bird the merchants were bringing with them and was hiring people to act as messengers of gossip from any visiting city, trying to get an intelligence network up and running as fast as possible. Ramirus was the man tasked with that job, while officially working as a scribe.

He read a couple of the scrolls before staring at the young erudite man again.

“Jeremy is in Alden,” Lucius said. “Why not go to Cartagen?”

“People coming from Asturia speak of him poorly Legatus,” Ramirus replied.

“Do they? They cite a reason?”

“You are alive for starters, he’s married to a Crow and he assented the throne without the King’s sword,” Ramirus counted. “Some Lords didn’t bent the knee.”

“What happened to it?”

“It just vanished the day King Alistair breathed his last.”

Lucius pressed his lips tight and played with his Knight’s gold ring for a while.

“Lord Holt is one of them obviously,” Lucius said after a contemplating moment, deciding to move on. “Stubborn as a mule, but he’ll never disobey an order. What about the others?”

“Some speak of Lord Sula, but we have no one visiting from that far Legatus.”

“You need men and funds Ramirus,” Lucius decided.

“That is correct your grace.”

“I have men to spare, but I lack coin.”

“What about the dwarf?” Ramirus probed.

“He thinks there’re riches in the mountains,” Lucius replied sounding unconvinced. “Very fierce folk the dwarfs, not to be underestimated. Smart as well. Despite that I can’t have him digging near our South Fort, or clogging up our road with his wagons.”

“Riches as in?” Ramirus asked his attention drawn to the first part of his answer.

“Diamonds, gems, metal, who knows? I’m interested in iron as well obviously.”

“Gold would be nice, even if it’s not coin,” Ramirus noted. “Would the dwarf pay for the opportunity?”

Lucius looked at him. “Speak clearly mister Ramirus.”

“Well,” The young man said. “If the dwarf is willing to part with some of their accumulated gold for working on a side of the mountains not detrimental to our operations…”

“He wants to use our road,” Lucius pointed out and Ramirus shrugged his shoulders. “You’re saying we open a smaller road towards the ridge just for the miners?”

“If the dwarf pays for it your grace,” Ramirus replied. “I don’t see why we shouldn’t take his gold.”

Lucius climbed down from Stormbolt patting his mane caringly, the large horse bumping his large head once on his shoulder in response. Gripa took the reins from Lucius with a smile.

“I’ll return to Lady Faye,” His aide said and Lucius nodded. “I will leave this big old boy with the Legion’s horses.”

“Thank you Gripa,” Lucius replied looking at the gates of the camp. A sturdy wall had started forming around the Castrum. Less than a meter in height at its thicker base, almost two along the periphery, it was made of large pieces of stone, mortar and would eventually connect with the city walls. By that time the wall would be much higher of course.

A large group of armed men had appeared there. Mounted on horses with military saddles and wearing Legion-type boots. Galio approached seeing him standing next to the headquarters half-finished stone building.

“Legatus,” Galio said.

“Tribune,” Lucius replied. “Deserters?”

Galio frowned, not a difficult thing for him and eyed the approaching heavily escorted leader of the group. The Centurion on watch had dispatched half a Century to keep an eye on those left behind at the gates.

“Never seen a white-gold tunic on a Legionnaire afore,” Galio noticed. “Or such a fine sword.”

“Where is Sula?” Lucius asked him.

“He’s been summoned,” Galio replied glaring at the young man on the horse. “But not apprised on the developments.”

“We’ll talk of this later,” Lucius said and watched as their visitor climbed down and followed one of the Legionnaires. They stopped in front of them and the soldier saluted, before stepping aside.

The young man stepped forward and bowed his head deeply. He’d deep lines on his hard angular face and a thick beard, but also honest sea-green eyes, uncombed black hair and a thick Lesia accent that reminded Lucius of his late mother.

“Optio Potis Durio,” The ex-legion officer said clenching his jaw. “Surrendering the Second Century to Lord Aldenus immediately and asking for clemency for the men sir!” He finished staring at the unamused Tribune Veturius.

“We don’t use the name outside of ceremonies, Optio,” Lucius told him. Durio recoiled, and turned his attention on the correct man.

“Apologies my lord!”

“It wasn’t a mistake,” Lucius stopped him with a smile.

“Durio you say? Any relation to the old Prefect?” Galio asked and the young officer’s face darkened.

“Prefect Durio was my uncle sir,” Durio said with difficulty. The way he talked about it, made Lucius believe the Prefect was more than that for him.

“What happened? I’ve served with Placus,” Galio grunted narrowing his eyes.

“He was executed for disobeying a superior’s order,” Durio replied.

“Placus would never do that,” The Tribune murmured not believing it.

“What was the order?” Lucius asked and the former Optio stared his way guiltily.

“Our Legion was asked to stay in camp, whilst the First Legion was engaged with the Second Foot,” Potis replied. “I asked my uncle to allow me to provide assistance to our former brothers in arms and he agreed, but Lord Caxaton ordered him to stand down,” Durio cleared his throat and continued. “The Prefect questioned the legitimacy of the order and he was punished for it.”

This was during the Battle of the Turncoats, Lucius thought.

“You’ve served with Lesia’s Legion,” Galio grunted still affected from the news.

“For a day Tribune,” Potis replied.

“Lord Caxaton leads the Second Legion?” Lucius asked him to clarify the command structure.

“He does, with Ettore Pintor,” Potis replied. “I know little more, but its build around the old Second Cohort.”

“But for part of the Second Century,” Galio noticed. “Why did they let you go?”

“We deserted the camp,” Potis admitted and hanged his head. “I regret the decision. The valiant thing to do would have been to assist my uncle.”

“Don’t be an idiot,” Galio admonished him. “You would’ve been dead in that case, yer uncle left unavenged.”

“I’m ready to accept the consequences—”

“Any engineers in your group?” Lucius cut him off staring at him coldly. “I would appreciate some honesty Optio. You came here because you know of my situation. Everywhere else you would’ve been hanged on sight. There’s a bounty on your heads.”

Potis stood back and nodded his face hardening.

“The Legatus asked a question, son,” Galio reminded him.

“This is the Second Engineering Century Legatus,” Durio replied and Lucius opened his eyes wide not expecting it. “Everyone back there is a Legion Engineer.”

“Well that’s sweet as a young harlot’s cunt,” Galio blurted out genuinely surprised and Lucius glanced at him. The Tribune shrugged his shoulders. “Should I tell him the news milord?” He asked him and Lucius nodded, the former Optio looking at them unsure.

“Potis Durio, you are henceforth back into the fold,” Galio told him. “Not the same fold, but a fold none-the-less.”

“Sire?” Durio asked.

“Same rank,” Lucius decided and Galio nodded. “For now.”

“You heard the Legatus,” Galio said looking at Durio sternly. “Prefect Trupo will brief you about your duties. Have you eaten?”

“Ahm, no Tribune I haven’t,” Durio replied and gathered himself.

“Well, you’ll be fine for a little while more,” Galio reassured him. “Run to the Prefect now, but tell your men to wait here. There’s water in the trough, good for men and horses. So they’ll be fine.”

“Good for men and horses?” Lucius asked chuckling when the reinstated Optio rushed after the trotting legionnaire to find the Prefect.

“Got to straighten them out immediately milord,” Galio explained. “Them lads from the academy have a big head on their shoulders.”

Eh.

“I graduated from the Academy in Cartagen as well Tribune!” Lucius protested and glared at him. “A good officer, is an educated officer,” He added.

Galio smacked his lips once, but kept his composure, hands clasped behind his back.

“As I said milord, them lads have a big head on their shoulders.”

Centurion Nonus Sula was a medium height, robust man. He’d the classic squarish Lorian jaw and thick neck. Short cut brown hair and piercing washed out blue eyes, under bushy eyebrows. He set that jaw seeing Lucius and the Tribune approach and boomed in a clear a voice to the legionnaires standing behind him next to Centurion Ennius, who had been promoted some months back.

“Cohort attention!”

The men of the four Centuries snapped at their heels, the sudden sound reverberating on the many stone barracks walls surrounding the camp’s central square.

“At ease Centurion,” Lucius prompted him and stopped to examine the men they’ve been drilling, whilst working them hard to burn out the surplus fat and strengthen their core, as the Tribune eloquently had phrased it. Lucius found no fat on them and their gear looked new, the red tunics and armours contrasting to the sea of shining helms.

“Relax men, but no funny stuff,” Centurion Ennius said evenly, himself a thoroughly unfunny person both in looks and character.

“Ennius,” Lucius said looking at Centurion Sula’s face. “You can go now. Head to the barracks of the Second Cohort’s First Century and assume command there.”

Sula blinked taken by surprise, but held his composure.

“Sire?” Ennius asked, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.

“You’ve taken yer orders Centurion!” Galio admonished him grinding his teeth. “Why on Tyeus meaty spear are ye still standing there?”

Ennius saluted briskly and run away without another word.

Lucius sighed and stared at the men pretending not to listen to their exchange, before returning his stare on the expecting Sula.

“Skuff Juter attacked over the Stad River,” Lucius informed the rigidly standing officer. “He won a battle at the bridge, went over it and got mangled and chewed up by Lesia regulars that had arrived from Kadrek to reinforce the Duke. Amongst them the Duke himself with around five hundred Carls, at least two thousand soldiers under Baron Palma of Conium, a score of knights and Armando Ley’s Boars mercenary company.”

“A sizeable force sire,” Sula commented still shook for having just been stripped of his command of the Century.

“Juter retreated over the bridge, but they came after him and he’ll have to fight anew to stop them, or risk them following him all the way to Rifjordal.”

“Or coming towards us,” Galio added.

“I intent to take the Legion and rush to assist the Northmen,” Lucius continued just as a rider was heard galloping into the camp coming from the internal city gates. “Check the Duke’s forces and throw them back, if it’s possible.”

“What about Kas my lord?” Sula asked him.

“What about it?” Lucius retorted, his eyes on the rider disregarding the guards warnings to slow down at the gates.

“The Crulls might take the opportunity to come down from their mountains,” Sula explained. “Hit us afore the walls are ready.”

“They don’t have the numbers to do that Centurion,” Lucius replied. “And you’ll be tasked with protecting the city. You’ll use the men you’ve trained for it,” Lucius said and looking at the legionnaires now looking livelier, he added. “There’s a Cohort’s worth of them here, more really. I’ll named it the First Cohort.”

“Legatus?” Sula asked unsure and the rider came to a stop right in front of them, dust covering the three officers.

“What’s this travesty? Have ye lost your mind?” Galio blasted the young rider that jumped from the saddle all flustered and ogling panicked at the high ranking officers.

“Legatus,” The young rider saluted, his hands shaking. “Lady Faye is in labor.”

Lucius mouth went dry and he had to clench his teeth to keep himself from reacting in panic. He cleared his throat, his tongue glued on the walls of his mouth and asked hoarsely.

“Has it started then?”

“Aye sire,” The young man said, his face as white as Lucius. “Gripa implores you to hurry.”

Roderick had said the same words to his father, the day his mother had died.

“I’ll be right there. See that you bring my horse here lad,” Lucius told him and turned to a frowned Sula.

“The First Cohort needs a higher ranking officer to lead it,” He said keeping his voice stable, despite the internal turmoil and knowing everyone was looking at him. “In light of this, you are promoted to a Prefect effective immediately and you are assuming command of the unit.”

“Milord,” Galio told him. “I will brief the Prefect.”

You should see to your wife was his meaning.

Lucius nodded his face grave and turned around to watch for the approaching rider with his horse and to avoid the eyes of the men present.

“Why First Cohort?” Sula asked Galio just as Lucius was climbing on the saddle. “It should be the Fifth.”

“No it shouldn’t be,” Galio had replied just as Lucius galloped away at an easy trot at first, until Stormbolt sensed his anxiousness that is and started galloping to bring him to Redmond Hall as fast as possible.

“This is another Legion,” The Tribune had added to a numb at all that had transpired Nonus Sula.

It is said, the moment Lucius son came into this world was the moment the Fourth Legion was born. The now famed unit came fast and brazenly, marching to battle three days after its christening and earning its moniker a week later. The Brazen Fourth, or ‘Young Sister’ would carve its own history in the years to come.

Lucius arrived at Redmond Hall just after Roderick came to be, announcing his presence with a piercing garish wail that quickly turned to anger. It was said Faye Alden almost died giving birth to him, but fought bravely through the whole ordeal and succeeded. The Legatus who expected the worst given the first reports he’d received from his stuff about her condition, remained surprisingly composed until she opened her eyes and asked him to see their child.

Faye Alden who described the event later recalls he broke down for a minute, before getting ahold of himself and going to fetch little Roderick to his mother. Roderick Aldenus, the first of his name, was born in the last month of summer, the year of the new calendar 190, in the Northern city of Kas.

Lucius was reluctant to leave their side the following days and it was decided that then newly promoted Prefect Sula would take the newly formed Fourth Legion (only at Cohort strength), march down the old road through the woods towards Stag River and attempt to block the Duke’s advance there. Sula had express orders not to get himself into a big battle and wait for reinforcements to arrive from Kas in the next two, or three days, depending on Lady Faye’s recovery.

Two days after Sula left to help Juter, a large force came down from the lightly guarded mountain path –the West Fort hadn’t been built yet- intending to attack the still under construction walls of Kas. Bas Crull had spotted the Legion departing under Sula at full honors and with its banners flapping in the wind, spying at them from the woods.

He informed his father that this was their chance to cut off Lucius and place him between two strong forces without a base or supplies. Lord Crull stripped every man able to carry a spear or sword from his lands and sent them down the difficult, but closer Mount Junction on the double quick.

The exact number difficult to gauge today and heavily disputed by the survivors. Probably close to two thousand soldiers, including Bas depleted Rangers that had slipped inside the Kas valley earlier that month.

It was a good plan, but Bas had spotted the wrong Legion departing.

Lord Sirio Veturius

The Fall of Heroes

Chapter II

(Legatus Lucius Alden,

Northern campaigns,

Second Year

Volume II

The Tiger’s Lair

-Nice to meet you son-

Birth of Roderick Alden and the Fourth Legion,

Prelude to the 2nd Battle of Kas,

And the Battle beyond Stag River

(also known as ‘A Paean amidst the Pines’)

Late Summer of 190 NC)