B4 Chapter 43: Unfinished Business
B4 Chapter 43: Unfinished Business
The single word rumbled dangerously like a swiftly gathering storm. Prometheus, the titan of forethought and wisdom. A schemer at heart, one who had neither been seen or heard from since escaping his eternal punishment. Until now.
Before Jupiter could move to strike down Prometheus where he stood, the titan raised his hands in an offering of peace. "I mean no trouble, cousin. In fact, I come to you as an ally."
Lightning crackled around Jupiter. "An ally? Do you think me daft, that I have forgotten your crimes? I should have you chained up simply for daring to show your face."
The divine eagle sitting at Jupiter's shoulder cawed in approval. Mars saw the titan wince. His lips twisted into a pained grimace that he supposed was meant as a smile. "Ah, but what a waste that would be. For you and yours have already benefitted from my actions, independent though they were. Who do you suppose ensured the continuation of our mythos? Whose plans ensured the foundation for this new generation remained intact?"
"You claim credit for such a thing?" Jupiter accused.
"Come now, cousin." Prometheus rasped. "I have never known you to be naive. Mere isolation never would have been enough for Ceres and Faunus to continue their existence. Not with an entire world hunting them down. Surely you have seen the signs of a hand working behind the scenes."
"Lies," Ceres hissed. Mars saw Faunus’s hackles rise, the satyr deity's features twisting into a more animalistic form.
Prometheus calmly took in the rest of the pantheon. "If you doubt my words, then perhaps more recent examples are in order. The destruction of that orc horde was quite fortuitous, after all. Quite fortuitous indeed. If the mortals had not stumbled upon the proper piece of insight in time... Who knows? Perhaps this budding empire would have wilted on the vine."
Mars saw his own scowl matched by the other gods. He didn't like the scheming titan's insinuations. Yet he couldn't ignore them entirely. The manner in which the orcs had been defeated had seemed a bit strange, though such matters were too far below his notice to investigate in detail.
"I understand that my past actions were... not entirely popular among present company." Prometheus's gaze flicked to Jupiter. "But look at what humanity has become. Look at the quality of the offerings, the songs and temples they raise in your name. I am even working to turn those orcish brutes into devout worshippers of your names. Between that and the work I have done to selflessly ensure my family's own continuation... All I ask is to be granted a chance."
Jupiter simmered atop his throne. Mars could clearly read the discontent brewing there. The fact that Prometheus had ever been freed from his torment still rankled at the god, who wasn't particularly known for forgiveness. Then again...
It was Apollo who spoke up first. "If I may be so bold... " The golden god shrugged. "We are collecting allies, are we not? Ones that are far weaker and less capable than he. I suggest we grant him that chance, father."
Mars looked around at the other gods. There was a mix of emotions there
He personally didn't trust the titan in the slightest. Even his being here was a calculated move, one that he undoubtedly had an escape plan for.
But he also saw the value that such a deity could bring.
"I agree." Mars spoke up begrudgingly. "We will have need of his strength."
Apollo flashed him a brilliant smile from across the hall. Mars ignored it. Doubtless the sun god had other machinations in mind when he'd made his statement. Though whether he was clever enough to outmaneuver the titan remained to be seen.
There was a bit of muttered discussion as the others raised their own arguments. However, he saw in Jupiter's face that he'd made his decision.
"Enough." The king of the gods raised his hand. "Prometheus. I shall allow you the mercy of serving the pantheon. For now. Pray I do not change my mind."
Prometheus flashed that ghoulish grin of his again and bowed. "Your judgement is, as always, righteous cousin. Or shall I say, lord."
Mars frowned down at the titan. There were clearly more plans at play here, ones that he intended to bring to light. He just hoped he could do so before they blew up in their faces.
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***
Quintus was well and truly sick of the desert.
It had been months since the Third Legion's first foray into the place. In that time, he'd led his men on two separate patrols of the entire elven border and a number of forays deeper into the sands. The former had proven quite productive. The elves had taken his advice seriously and begun a chain of defensive outposts along their border, growing them right out of the trees themselves. The construction efforts redoubled once he returned with his report, and he managed to extract commitments to garrison them with elven Legionnaires and even a few elven militia members as well.
That freed up his Legionnaires to locate the source of the monster attacks---an effort that had seen considerably less success.
That wasn't to say their ventures into the desert were uneventful. They had no shortage of heated encounters with the various monsters found there. They seemed to mass with alarming regularity, growing more aggressive and clever with each clash. In a more recent battle, they'd even hidden their commander within the belly of a massive sand worm, making the group considerably more difficult to decapitate and scatter. They'd only identified the trick thanks to one of Grand Mage Claude's spells, specifically developed to identify such targets.
Still, the groups never reached the same size as that first invasion. These had the feel of probing strikes, attempts to whittle down the Legion and better identify their capabilities. But the result was the opposite. Every encounter had Quintus learning and pushing his limits as a commander, allowing him to innovate and explore new tactics. His men grew in power and experience, the shifting sands beginning to feel mundane rather than strange and foreign. Even his usage of Claude began to improve as he worked the mage's capabilities into the Legion's own tactics more readily.
Yet the hit-and-run tactics and the general ability of the monsters to disappear into the desert meant that he had failed to locate a settlement. If any even existed. Such a location would have to be over twenty miles into the desert, over half a day's march for his Third Legionnaires.
Quintus stood atop one of their guard towers, peering into the thick sand that filled the air. Trying to see beyond it. He hesitated to venture that far, lest they become isolated by their foe. But they were running out of time.
"Sir." A messenger thumped his fist against his chest. "News from the senate. They recommend that we return to the empire in light of recent dragon attacks."
Quintus noted the wording. The senate recommended they return. The emperor hadn't yet demanded it. That meant they still had time.
"Understood. I will take their recommendation into consideration."
The messenger did his best to hide a smile. "Yes, sir."
Quintus waved the man away and sighed. The pressure was mounting. He had no particular aversion to being redeployed northward. The dragons were apparently proving quite the nuisance to farmers and their herds up there. Enough that the lack of cattle could lead to a very hard winter or even famine, should things continue on that direction.
But this threat he faced could turn into an even more troublesome one if not dealt with swiftly. Especially considering the amount of crops produced by the elven lands. And despite his insistence about the looming invasion, it seemed that the senate was still failing to take the matter seriously. A potential threat was evidently seen as less problematic than a current one. Especially since they insisted the Second Legion should be able to take care of it.
Which may have been true. But Quintus was still not confident in their ability to wage war outside the shelter of their trees. Not without a front line to rely on. And especially not since he'd caught wind of Sylendor being sent south with half of his men.
Quintus saw a cluster of Legionnaires crest a distant dune and speed toward the outpost. Scouts, based on their oddly shifting cloaks. He descended from the tower and headed for the command tent to await their report.
He wasn't waiting long. The leader of the scouts strode into the tent shortly after he arrived, still shaking the sand from his dark hair. He saluted proudly. "Legatus Quintus. We've found it. A cluster of monsters like those we've been facing, as well as some semi-permanent structures that are clearly constructed."
"Numbers?" Quintus prompted as the scout indicated the location on a map.
"Maybe a thousand. Aulius sensed more beneath the sand, a few hundred more at least in tunnels. We returned before we were spotted, so we aren't certain of how deep they run or where they connect to. Half of our group remained behind to investigate further. I would guess it's some sort of supply depot."
Quintus nodded. "Good work. Recover, then rejoin the other scouts to gather more information. Do not get caught. The rest of the Legion will be along shortly."
"Sir!"
He swept from the tent, already shouting orders to his centurions. They were already in motion. It seemed the other scouts had been rather eager to share the news as well. He honestly appreciated the initiative. Still, it helped to be seen as in control of the unfolding chaos.
Tents and camps folded down into bare components as the Third Legion prepared to march. Quintus allowed his subordinates to take charge of their men as they formed up. He saw the writing on the wall. Whatever lay on the other side of those dunes was the last fight he'd be able to justify. After this, any further delays in their return could be seen as an act of sedition.
This was their last chance to deal a crippling blow against their enemy. Then, it would be up to the elves. He'd done all he could to ensure they were prepared against this foe. But that didn't mean he wanted to leave his job unfinished.
Quintus allowed himself a small smile as the Third Legionnaires swarmed into neat ranks. The soft faces of fresh soldiers were no more. Now, he led a group of hardened warriors into battle. A final triumph would be the perfect way to round out their first campaign as a full Legion.