B4 Chapter 17: On the Road Again
B4 Chapter 17: On the Road Again
Tiberius looked down from the balcony into the courtyard of the castle below. There, a collection of siege engines had been assembled to be paraded before him, showing off the latest and greatest of Legion engineering.
He looked down on the procession. Legionnaires swarmed over the machines, ensuring that every detail was just right and that they would work properly. Their sizes varied wildly from a man-sized ballista to a gargantuan siege tower that practically reached the balcony itself. He’d been informed that larger ones also existed, but had been excluded due to size restrictions.
Gaius’s form was a small pinprick below as the boy coordinated things personally. He would have gone down to similarly inspect things, but that was not his place. If anything, the emperor’s more immediate presence would only serve to distract the men and hamper things as they prioritized showing respect over actually doing their jobs.
Still, Tiberius was looking forward to the coming demonstrations. Even if reports had already informed him of what to expect, seeing it in person was another matter entirely.
He saw Gaius’s aide lean forward and speak in his ear. The young Legatus paused, frowning deeply. He glanced briefly up at Tiberius before responding to the aide and making a gesture. The aide closed his eyes.
Tiberius barely had time to ponder the proceedings when his own aide spoke from beside him. “A report from the First Legion, Emperor. The men sent to scour the western mountains have come under attack.”
His frown deepened to mirror Gaius’s own. “When?”
“Earlier today. The centuries involved pulled back out of an abundance of caution. They were unable to identify their assailants, but the tactics used imply that they are intelligent.”
That did not bode well. It could well be the orcs. The green-skinned barbarians were still hiding somewhere in the west, assuming their remnants had not been snuffed out by something else. But there was another possibility as well. The dwarves that Tiberius had heard tell of.
If this attack was waged by the orcs, then sending a full force to extinguish them once and for all would be prudent. But if it wasn’t, then that meant annexing this new race of humanoids would not prove so simple as he’d hoped. He had little intel about their capabilities or locations, either, meaning that sending a conquering force into their lands was a particularly risky venture. If he could have even spared the men.
He needed to investigate further. But it was treacherous ground. If this wasn’t the result of dwarven aggression, then sending more armed men into their territory would perhaps not be the best way to begin diplomatic negotiations.
There was a time where Tiberius would not have cared. Why be concerned about how much blood watered the fields of the empire’s growth? But there were just so many matters that the Legionnaires already needed to tend to. If he could pursue a peaceful and easier integration, then he would. For the sake of his men and his empire.
No, this required a more delicate touch. Someone to feel out the situation and determine what manner of foe resided in those mountains and why they’d attacked. And he had just the man in mind.
***
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“Bam bam ba!”
The patrons of the Gilded Lily roared, shouting the next line to the familiar song. Marcus continued his strumming, enjoying the back-and-forth of the call and response. He’d been playing quite a lot of new music lately, but sometimes it was nice to fall back on the classics.
His current audience was scant and mostly comprised of locals and adventurers. The Legionnaires were off protecting the empire, given that it was the middle of the day, and the only ones with nothing better to do were some local drunks and a few adventurers taking a rest between jobs. Not that Marcus would complain. They made up for their lack of numbers with sheer enthusiasm. And as much of a performer as Marcus was, he could also appreciate a more intimate performance.
The door of the tavern swung open. His eyes flicked over to see the new arrival without skipping a beat—a Legionnaire. One that he recognized.
The man spotted Marcus—not a difficult task, seeing as he was a purple peacock sitting atop a raised stage using [Magnetic Presence]. Marcus finished the song with a flourish, setting his lute down with a grin as the soldier approached.
“Cassius, my friend! It’s been a while!”
Cassius broke into a grin of his own as they clasped arms. “I’ll say. Seems like you’re as busy as the emperor himself these days, eh?”
Marcus gave a dramatic sigh. “I wish you were joking, truly. I’ve hardly been able to
Perhaps you should consider subtlety? I could feel your performance drawing me in from a mile off,
Marcus looked at him with clear affront. “And censor my performance? Why would I ever do such a thing? I have a reputation to uphold.”
Cassius chuckled and shook his head before his expression turned serious. “As much as I’d love to stay and listen, I’m afraid I’m here on business. The emperor has a task for you.”
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He figured as much. It had been at least a week since Grand Mage Claude’s induction into the Legion, and he’d rarely had this much time without Tiberius assigning some task or another to him. It was getting to the point where he might have to request an audience or start searching out things to do, lest the twin princesses catch wind of his downtime. He nodded, waiting for Cassius to continue.
“We have located the dwarves in the mountains. The emperor intends to send a diplomat to speak with them and evaluate their disposition.”
“Hmmm… I see.” He nodded seriously. This was certainly within his area of expertise. Still, he found himself a little surprised. Tiberius had secured his cooperation on no small number of rather sensitive tasks up to this point, but serving as a diplomat to a foreign country? That was a new leap in trust. “How many should I expect to accompany me?”
“None. He intends to send you alone.”
Marcus blinked. That was… quite a bit more trust than expected. Or perhaps he was simply deemed a far more expendable resource than the other Legionnaires? Either way, it meant he’d have less oversight than ever before—and less backup should things go awry.
He masked his misgivings with a smile. “I will endeavor not to let the emperor’s trust be misplaced. How soon must I leave?”
His inflection made the words sound as though he was loath to be gone, but Cassius wasn’t fooled. The Legionnaire rolled his eyes. “As soon as your preparations are made. But he would prefer for you to set out within the next few days. This is a rather urgent matter.”
“Of course, of course,” Marcus agreed easily. He stood from his chair and stretched. “Well, then. Best not to waste any time. I will begin my preparations. Thank you for informing me, friend. It was good to see you again.”
“Likewise.” Cassius broke into a grin of his own. “When you get back, we’ll have to go out for drinks. I’ve heard snippets of that epic you’re working on, but have yet to hear one note from the horse’s mouth.”
The bard chuckled. “I’ll be certain to correct that deficiency.”
With a final wave to The Gilded Lily’s patrons and the tavernkeeper, Marcus gathered his things and swept into the street. As much as he would have liked to leave right then and there, he did have preparations to make. While he’d refilled his spellbook with no shortage of new entries, courtesy of Claude and the Legion’s generous patronage, a solo mission to mountains that may or may not also have orcs demanded a little more preparation. There were also supplies to collect, maps to purchase, and beautiful princesses to bid tearful farewells to.
As he headed toward a store to check off the first item on his list, Marcus found himself passing by House Aridus’s estate. The courtyard was filled with children and teenagers who had yet to come of age, most of them riding horses or playfighting with wooden swords. Well, that’s how it appeared at first glance. But Marcus knew better. These noble wards, most of whom had been orphaned by the orcs’ invasion of the capital, had decided that they would never be so defenseless again. Most of them had taken to combat practice with gusto, regardless of age. And their oldest cousin was more than happy to encourage that sentiment.
“Lord Marcus!”
The bard stopped as Abel jogged over to greet him. The boy had shot up like a weed, now tall enough that Marcus had to crane his neck upward to see him.
“Abel. Busy babysitting as usual, I see.”
The boy shook his head. “Hardly, sir. My cousins work harder than most adventurers I’ve ever known. In a few years, they’ll make fine Legionnaires. Just you wait!”
One of the younger boys reared his horse up, expertly guiding it through a makeshift obstacle course while striking an assortment of targets scattered around the lawn. The boy beamed with pride at the sight.
“Are you coming to tell more stories?” Abel asked hopefully.
Marcus just shook his head. He’d spent a bit more time around these kids than most, at the boy’s behest. Evidently, most of the surviving adult servants of the estate weren’t qualified to educate them on matters such as writing or history. They were lessons he didn’t particularly look forward to, but they weren’t terrible. At least these kids were old enough to hold a conversation. Besides, it had been a while since he’d spent time amongst the nobility, and fallen noble children proved considerably less insufferable than one might fear.
“Not today, I fear.” Marcus sighed dramatically. “I have a new assignment, directly from the emperor himself. I’m on my way to speak with the dwarves.”
Abel’s eyes widened. “The dwarves! Really?”
“Indeed. It seems that the emperor wishes to send me as diplomat.”
The boy grinned broadly. “As to be expected, Lord Marcus. Wait one moment. I’ll gather my things!”
Abel spun toward the estate, but Marcus caught him by the shoulder. “Your things? What for?”
Abel looked back. “I’m coming with you, obviously. Lord Marcus."
“Abel…” He sighed. “This will be even more dangerous than before. I will not have Legionnaires at my side to support me.”
“All the more reason that you need protection.” The boy insisted. “I’m not a child anymore, Lord Marcus.”
Marcus’s mouth thinned. The boy was technically correct. If only just.
[Groom of Neptune’s Chosen] (Lvl 9)
The boy’s class was… strange. Initially, Marcus had feared the boy would be disappointed by it, but that luckily hadn’t been the case. How could he be anything but elated at an Epic rarity class? It was even rarer than Marcus’s own, something that filled him with just a touch of jealousy that he made sure to squash.
As for Neptune’s Chosen himself… Gerald the horse pranced through the grass beyond the gates, the chestnut stallion seeming in rather high spirits. It held a wooden sword in its mouth and was somehow managing to spar with one of the younger kids rather remarkably. The animal had somehow managed to reach level sixteen. How, Marcus wasn’t entirely sure. But he’d seen the horse bludgeon a rabid dog to death with a single kick when it had threatened one of his wards.
“My family will be all right,” Abel continued, misinterpreting Marcus’s look. “The best thing for them is for me to get stronger. The stronger I am, the better I can defend them—and teach them to defend themselves. Same with Gerald.”
Marcus sighed. To be honest, he wasn’t particularly excited about going on this mission alone. Having someone to watch his back would be welcomed. Though it still felt wrong to have that person be a youth. Still, who was he to talk? He’d been doing far worse as a teen himself.
“I suppose… it wouldn’t be such a bad idea,” Marcus admitted. “However, I will warn you. This will be a dangerous mission. I cannot guarantee your safety.”
Abel grinned. “I understand, Lord Marcus. I would expect nothing less of your heroic exploits.”
The boy ran into the estate to gather his things. Marcus watched with a bit of faint amusement. At the very least, maybe this meant he wouldn’t have to run the whole way to the western mountains.