B3 Chapter 60: A Little Bit of R&R
B3 Chapter 60: A Little Bit of R&R
Upon Marcus’s return to consciousness, he quickly decided that Apollo had decided to punish him specifically. For what, he didn’t know. Maybe the god was secretly allied with the orcs. But the way the sun above slid its luminescent blades between his very eyelids left little doubt about that fact.
“Dammit, Apollo. Does it really need to be that bright?”
At least, that was what he tried to say. The accusation came out more as a mumbled series of dry croaks. Probably for the best.
He threw an arm over his face to defend himself, letting out an involuntary groan at his own stiffness. Evidently, his own body had joined in on the rebellion. Traitor.
A soft hand pressed onto his shoulder. Marcus felt its warmth intensify, then spread through the rest of his body to ease his various aches and pains. A female voice spoke to him in a mercifully quiet whisper.
"You overdid it out there, huh?”
Marcus peeled one eye open. Eleonora stood at his side, her dark hair frazzled and a plain apron tied around her front. The young woman looked as though she’d aged considerably over the past few months, though not without benefit.
[Healer] (Lvl 15)
Marcus nearly vomited. He’d activated [Appraisal] on instinct, yet even that small action sent a spike of nausea and pain directly into his skull at the same time he was ambushed again by the angry sun. He hissed and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to wrestle himself under control.
“Yeah, I know how you feel.” He heard the [Healer] shake her head in commiseration. “Stamina deprivation sucks. It’s actually the worst. I managed to fix up the external wounds, but the only cure for that one is time and rest.”
The girl pressed a waterskin into his hand. The cool liquid soothed his throat. Once he had recovered, Marcus cracked his eye open again.
“When did you get here?”
She looked at him with confusion. “I’ve been here. Who else do you think’s been keeping these id—I mean, ideal soldiers alive and kicking?”
Marcus’s brow furrowed. He couldn’t recall seeing the woman when he’d arrived at the camp. Then again, he had shown up during a rather chaotic period. He’d barely had time to drop off some of his heavier belongings before setting out on his last mission.
“Besides, I’m more useful here than in the capital.” Eleonora continued to explain with a dismissive wave. “No better place to practice healing than on a warfront, right?”
He grunted in acknowledgment. “I’m surprised. I figured that you would insist on staying behind to help the Novarans integrate with their new government.”
The implication was clear. He and Eleonora had made it their mission to mitigate the bloodiness of the Legion’s conquests as well as they could. Which was one of the reasons he was so shocked to see her here. Only a naive fool would entertain the prospect of a peaceful orcish integration. And given everything he’d seen, the orcs were of a similar mind. The idea of talking them down would make for a fine joke.
The [Healer] shook her head. “That’s what I had planned. But… Well, you saw how things went back there. I don’t think there’s much more I could do. Honestly, the takeover went way smoother than I expected. Sure, the Adventurers’ Guild took a bit of convincing, but once orcs started falling from the sky, they had no issues sending out quests to fend them off.”
He nodded in understanding. Honestly, he couldn’t blame the girl. She’d done quite a bit as it was, but now that the external threat had subsided, it was far less likely that the Guild would take her words into account as much. She was merely a bronze rank adventurer—though at this point, she probably qualified for a higher position.
Still… something seemed a little off. Eleonora broke eye contact too quickly and seemed oddly evasive about the whole thing. It felt like there was more to the story that he simply wasn’t getting. It was tempting to activate [Critical Reception] to investigate more deeply, but the very thought of using another skill made him queasy. At the very least, he didn’t get the feeling that she was hiding anything malicious. Though the absence of his skill did make him feel blind.
Taking another sip of his water, Marcus glanced around. He was inside a medical tent lined with rows of simple cots. Approximately half of them held men in various states of health, most of them sleeping or groaning as Legionnaire medics worked on them.
“Don’t you have other patients to work on?”
She shook her head. “Nope. They save me for the real bad stuff. It gives the others a chance to practice and keeps me from burning out on healing a dozen little scrapes and scratches. Otherwise, I’d be lying right where you are every other day.”
Marcus smirked. “Is that so? Well, I feel honored to earn your attention then.”
“You shouldn’t,” Eleonora said seriously. “You were in awful shape. What did you do, try and dig your way through the mountain with your bare hands?”
He reflexively checked his fingers. They all seemed to be in one piece, luckily, fresh red skin having replaced the raw bloody patches at their tips. Wiggling them, Marcus sighed with relief. “Nothing quite so dramatic. I merely did my duty to distract the orcs.”
“Well, you succeeded on that front.” She sighed. “The battle’s still going on, but I’m seeing fewer and fewer soldiers come through here by the hour. So, unless they’re all dying on the spot, I think they managed to get things back under control a bit.”
Marcus let out a sigh of relief. He'd figured as much, but it was good to have confirmation. If it hadn’t worked, then he very much expected to wake up to a lot more shouting, if he woke up at all.
Eleonora continued speaking. “We’re supposed to move out pretty soon. At least, that’s what I heard. They just need to finish up here first. So I’d suggest getting rest while you can. Oh, and Gaius wanted to see you, too.”
Marcus raised an eyebrow. “Gaius?”
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The girl gave him a questioning look. “You know. The Legatus?”
Marcus did know that, obviously. But what interested him was the casual way in which Eleonora referred to him. That, and the slight reddening of her cheeks at his mention.
He smiled. Perhaps Eleonora did have other reasons for being out here. Regardless, he decided to let it lie for the moment and simply nod. “Ah, yes. Well. Best not to keep him waiting—”
Marcus tried to stand, only for the world to spin around him. He froze in place, squeezing his eyes shut as the dizziness slowly subsided. The [Healer] girl spoke again.
“He can wait a few extra minutes. He'll have to, unless he wants you puking in the command tent. Now lie back down.”
The girl's tone brooked no argument, not that Marcus was particularly tempted to disagree.
He continued taking sips of water and began mechanically chewing a painfully bland piece of dense bread that Eleonora produced from somewhere. At least, he tried chewing it. The first bite nearly broke his teeth on the stuff. He resorted to nibbling until he managed to break off a piece, soaking it in water until it was only slightly more palatable than eating a rock. But the food did help.
The tent bustled as he rested. Occasionally, injured Legionnaires would enter and have their wounds tended to by the other medics. Eleonora presided over their work, though she rarely seemed to chime in with advice. A few men were in bad enough shape that once stabilized, she made her way over to heal them personally. More often than not, the men ended up leaving not long after they'd arrived.
Eventually, Marcus managed to fill his belly with a bit of hardtack and a lot more water. After carefully standing and saying goodbye to Eleanora, he made his way to talk to the Legatus.
The walk took quite a lot longer than anticipated. Hobbling along as he was, Marcus felt forty years older. He half feared that he’d begin to see wisps of gray in his hair the next time he passed a mirror. Although perhaps that wouldn’t be entirely a bad thing. Such characteristics could be quite attractive to the right crowd.
His short, steady steps eventually carried him to a newly erected command post. It sat atop a small rise, overlooking a set of stone fortifications with crenelations that certainly had to be recent as well. Below them writhed a cauldron of death for the orcs that continued to fight.
He tried to regain some of his natural poise as he approached, although it was difficult. The last uphill section of the walk in particular proved brutal. It was all Marcus could do to keep his back straight and his feet plodding forward. But finally, he stood before a group of officers gathered around the Legatus.
The conversation broke off at his appearance as they turned to regard him. “Legatus,” Marcus greeted. “You wished to see—”
His words cut off as he attempted a bow, only to stumble forward halfway through. Rough hands seized him by the shoulders to prevent him from faceplanting. Marcus straightened to see a pair of the Legionnaire officers helping to steady him.
“I did,” Gaius confirmed with an amused tone, although Marcus also read clear concern on his face. “Though I suspected it would be another few hours or so. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you look drunk.”
“Ah, my apologies,” Marcus nodded gratefully to the officers who’d helped him, and they stepped away. “It seems that I’ll be recovering for a while yet. Eleonora did what she could, but…”
He focused on Gaius’s expression as he said Eleonora’s name, but saw no reaction. No obvious one, at least. Once again, he rued his inability to use skills. It made verifying gossip so much simpler.
Gaius nodded. “I understand. I suppose it’s only to be expected. You performed quite the miracle out there.”
Marcus scanned the men’s faces. He’d spent considerably less time with the officers of the Legion compared to the rank and file. Still, his deeds had apparently won him quite a bit of respect with the men. He even received a few brief salutes.
"I’m merely contributing what I can to the effort," Marcus said with a half smile. He had to stop himself from attempting another bow. "After all, our success here is mutually beneficial, is it not? I have no desire to see our lands constantly harried by orcs any longer.”
“How humble and noble of you.” Gaius grinned. “And here I thought that you were all about keeping yourself alive. I misjudged you, Marcus.”
“Well, that as well.” He returned the young Legatus’s grin. “But that doesn’t sound quite as heroic, now, does it?”
The comment elicited a round of chuckles from the assembled group. Gaius shook his head. “I suppose not. Regardless, it doesn’t change what you did. Well done. I’ll make sure that you receive appropriate commendations."
“Thank you, Legatus.” He nodded gratefully. “Now, may I ask for what reason you wished to see me?”
“Yes. Well, given your current state, I already have some of the answers I sought already.” The Legatus turned serious. “I need to know more about what you did. Whether or not you can do it again, and how often.”
“Ah, of course.” It was perfectly understandable, but Marcus had to give the man an apologetic smile. “Unfortunately, I’ll have to disappoint you somewhat. Eleonora has ordered that I use no skills for the rest of the day at least. Assuming that I am well tomorrow, I will be able to recreate those illusions, to some extent. As for the barrier… Well. That one, I am unable to cast again. It was one of the more valuable entries in my spellbook, and until I am able to cough up quite a handsome sum to a willing mage, its page shall remain blank.”
His explanation was all true, but came with some rather direct implications. Marcus had incurred quite a bit of expense for his stunt in both body and coin. And since Gaius had already mentioned some sort of reward, he had absolutely no qualms about suggesting that the Legion assist him in recouping those costs.
Gaius scratched his chin, where the slightest wisps of stubble were just visible. “Hmmm. That may be something that we can address in the future. I’ll need to speak with Claude about it. But for now, the illusions will be fine. I wasn’t aware of the scale of your abilities. Now that we’ve seen them in action, I think we can work them into our plans quite well. Ah, but once you’ve recovered, of course.”
Marcus inclined his head gratefully. “It would be my honor to help. If I may ask… How are things going?”
He indicated the battlefield with his chin. Gaius responded without even turning to look. “Well enough. We should be finished up here in about an hour. However, we have a few problems. A few more problems, I should say.” Another round of chuckles. “We’ll need to resupply soon, and even without stamina reserves, the men are starting to feel a drain from this constant fighting. We will need to recuperate and restock. Something I suspect the orcs will not be particularly keen on allowing.”
“Will they be able to contest us?” Marcus asked. “If we defeat their forces, then…”
Gaius shook his head. "This isn’t all of their forces. Not even close. The twenty thousand or so they sent is only a fraction of what’s in their camp. And with how new arrivals seem to be slowing, I wouldn’t put it past them to move the entire group soon.
Marcus paled. “That many? What chance do we have then? Even if I don’t doubt that Rome’s forces are far superior to Novara’s, this…”
Gaius shook his head. "Numbers aren’t everything. You saw that yourself. If we can appropriately string them out, trap them, crush them, and repeat, we’ll be able to manage even this. But it will be difficult. That’s why we’ll be calling on more aid from the emperor. Whatever he can spare. Legionnaires, auxiliaries, former Novaran loyalists, penal battalions, and the like. Anything will help.”
The bard nodded slowly. He casually moved to lean against a nearby table. His legs were beginning to tire, and he had no intention of showing that level of weakness. “Well, then… I suppose you have a plan for what to do in the meantime?”
“Of course. Many plans. We have to, given how that last battle went.” At Marcus’s questioning look, he continued. “Ah, that’s right. You must have been out of range… The orcs had a trick up their sleeves. They deactivated our skills.
Marcus went stiff. “They what?”
Gaius studied his expression. “I take it that’s not something you’ve ever heard of, then.”
“No, of course not. That’s… are you certain?”
“Deadly certain.” Gaius gave him a wry smile. “Well, then. That’s certainly interesting. Since you’re meant to be resting anyway, I don’t suppose you’d mind if I ask you a few questions about all of this?”
Of course, he wouldn’t refuse. But as Marcus spoke with the Legatus and more details of the situation came to light, he couldn’t help but feel a knot of dread build within his stomach.