Bastion

by Kyle West

  “What do we do, then?” Samuel asked. “The answer is simple: we keep working. We keep building our walls, and the news of the attack will only spur our men on harder. Before this year is out, Colonia will have the largest walls in the north. That my enemies have resorted to these tactics tells me they are afraid of openly defying me. The Emperor would not have his governors fighting, and once I find the one who instigated the attack, I will have everything I need to show Augustus.”

  Unless he isn’t on your side, Anna thought. You’ve always been too trusting of him.

  Anna could feel that a similar sentiment stewed among the senators. The majority hated Augustus — it was the reason they had come north in the first place. Many had been slaves under his regime. Others had been poor, and in Colonia they had found a new life. Native Wastelanders had found a new home in Colonia, and for the first time in decades and with the threat of the Radaskim quelled, people felt safe. Samuel wanted the peace to last a little longer, but the attempt on his life was a direct challenge to that.

  Anna wanted Samuel to take action, not stick his head in the sand — but what that action could be, she couldn’t say. And from the looks the other senators were giving him, they were of a similar mindset.

  “Governor Neth,” came a confident voice from the other side of the stands. “If I might have a word?”

  The voice belonged to Victor Thomas, and leader of a faction — called the Separatists — that was directly opposed to Samuel. Thomas was an old American — at over sixty years of age, he had survived slavery in Nova Roma for three decades, and no one hated the Emperor more than him. One could see the toll it had taken in the myriad of lines etched deeply into his face, and his brown eyes burned with vitriol. It was that passion, that hatred, that had others of a similar mindset following him.

  “Yes, Senator Thomas?”

  “Do we need to dance around the issue? Can we not admit that it is Augustus who wants you dead, or are you going to pretend that his interests and ours align?”

  Behind him, other senators of his party began to murmur their agreement. The Loyalists, among whom Anna sat, were silent. Samuel didn’t look at all fazed by Senator Thomas’s challenge.

  “Senator Thomas, I just returned from Nova Roma and I can assure you, the Emperor is behind us. When we established Colonia, he agreed to let us have our own laws and our own Senate, knowing the cultural differences between our two peoples. In return, we would owe our loyalty to Nova Roma. When you were sworn into the Colonian Senate, you yourself took that oath — as much as it might have irked you. Augustus and I talked at great length during my visit for a solution — solutions I intend to lay out before the Senate today. With Augustus’s backing, the governors and Black will have no choice but to back down.”

  Thomas laughed, openly and loudly. “Let’s hear it then, Governor. I’m sure we will all be entertained.”

  Senator Thomas sat down with a flourish, and all eyes went to Samuel.

  “The Emperor is pleased with Colonia,” Samuel said. “And I was pleased to present all the great strides we have taken. After a mere two years, we are one of the north’s most prosperous provinces. The Emperor told me, privately, that he would let Colonia remain slave-free, only he has the interests of all of his Northern Provinces to protect. The solution we came up with together I will lay before you now.”

  The entire senate went quiet, and from the look on Thomas’s face, none of what Samuel said had swayed him.

  “Beginning this July…” Samuel paused, and from the way he paused, Anna knew it was not going to be a popular announcement, “any immigrant arriving in Colonia must present proof of Novan citizenship in order to be accepted into the city.”

  Thomas and his supporters began, all at once, to argue against it. Samuel merely waited for the arguing to die off before continuing.

  “No immigrant who is already settled into the city is in danger,” Samuel said. “This would only apply to new immigrants arriving, beginning in July.”

  July was only a month away. It wasn’t much time for Colonia to implement the new measure, but Anna supposed it could be done. She knew Colonia could not continue growing unabated forever — and it could have been that Augustus had ignored this problem for so long, knowing the importance of having as many immigrants in Colonia as possible to man the scrap caravans, social status be damned. But now that the city was flourishing, Augustus had to bow to the will of his governors. He couldn’t not address the problem — not forever, anyway. There was the problem of Colonia growing too much, too fast. Already, food supplies had been stretched thin. Work was still undergoing to retool Old World irrigation equipment to water farms along the Colorado, but it would be years before Colonia was self-sufficient. Until then, the city relied on grain shipments from Nova Roma, which came in through Colossus. Governor Vasquez of Baja California was openly hostile to Colonia, and only Augustus’s influence kept him from bottlenecking the city’s food shipments altogether.

  Anna could see Samuel’s logic, though turning away all those escaped slaves would not be a very relishing task. As one of Colonia’s four Aediles, that responsibility might even fall on her.

  Before Senator Thomas could get another word, Anna stood. All went quiet.

  “Governor Neth is right. How long can we openly defy Imperial law and get away with it? How long before the provinces take measures into their own hands?”

  “They already have!” Thomas shouted. “They tried to kill our governor!”

  “I condemn the attack, as would any right-thinking person here. But my point still stands. How long can we push the Northern Provinces before they take even more drastic measures? They have the weight of law behind them — like it or not, slavery is legal in the Empire. Like it or not, it’s by the hands of slaves that our bellies are full, and it will stay that way until we can rebuild farming equipment.” Anna left a counterpoint unsaid — that farm equipment might never be rebuilt, but she wasn’t going to detract from her own argument. “Perhaps Augustus has said Colonia is exempt from having to follow this law, as part of the terms for its founding, but nowhere does the law grant us the right to harbor people that, by Novan law, are slaves. I don’t agree with it, but I am wise enough to know that it’s not something we can openly defy. I don’t need to remind you that Colossus controls the point by which most of our food and materials enter.”

  “Then let’s take Colossus!” a new, unknown voice said.

  Anna couldn’t see the source of the voice, but slowly, everyone turned their heads, their gazes fixating on a strong, handsome man in his mid-twenties. He sat on the top row, and despite the fact that he wasn’t a high-ranking senator, he carried himself as if he were.

  “That is foolishness!” Samuel said. “El Yermo is a loyal province of the Empire, and it will never be anything but a loyal province of the Empire. You would risk rebellion, and for what? We rebel, we take Colossus, and then we are crushed by Augustus’s legions!”

  “Not when those legions are suppressing invasions in his south.” The senator, whose name Anna couldn’t remember, smiled. “The Empire is weak, Governor. It can’t protect us from the provinces for long. Like it or not, there will be war. Better to accept it than deny it.”

  “No,” Samuel said. “It is too soon to be talking about such drastic measures. The Northern Provinces’ legions would be more than a match for our militia. And I will not entertain talk of treason in this House.”

  The entire Senate broke into argument. Each faction — the Loyalists versus the Separatists — were going at it again. In the past, the Separatists had always advocated a peaceful solution to gaining a free Colonian state, but things were different now. Apparently, gaining a free state at any cost was better than not gaining one at all. Loyalists, meanwhile, wanted to remain a part of the Empire, even if it meant conceding to some of its demands. While Samuel did his best not to align himself with either party, as did Anna and the rest, he was often painted as a Loyalist, and what he said
so far would only cement that image.

  Of late, the Separatists had been demanding increasingly brasher measures, but never had anyone suggested anything as far as openly attacking the Empire. Samuel was right; it was treason. Anna could only wonder how long it would take before news of this reached Augustus’s ears.

  After a minute, the furor calmed, and Samuel once again had the floor. The intensity of his gaze quelled the last of the murmurs.

  “What is your name, Senator?” Samuel called out. “Who are you to speak so boldly during this session? What works have you done to add to the weight of your words?”

  The man stood, meeting Samuel’s stare. “My name…is Murmillo. I was a slave from my youth in the province of Sonora. A gladiator.”

  Anna felt herself become stirred by those words. She remembered her time as a gladiator, however brief, and sympathized with the young man.

  “When we heard of Colonia, the city of freedom, my friends and I managed to escape our captors, killing many in the process. Through many trials, we arrived in Colonia, free at last. You yourself assigned me to a scrap caravan — you probably don’t remember, because I’m sure you’ve done this for many escaped slaves.” Murmillo put a hand over his heart. “For this, I thank you. Bunker 24 was discovered soon thereafter, and as part of the caravan who found it, I was entitled to a share of its profits. Hence, how I am here — from slave to senator in less than two years.” He looked at those around him. “I’m sure many of you can say the same.”

  Several men murmured their agreement.

  “Let me tell you a truth, Governor Neth: rebellion is stewing in the Northern Provinces. They speak of Colonia like a dream — those too afraid to escape will fight as soon as they know we lend them support. The opportunity for victory arrives now! Let us strike while Augustus is distracted, while his legions are thousands of miles away. Let us send a band of men — a band I can lead — to rescue the slaves. I will muster an army such as you have never seen. Thousands, Governor Neth, will join you with just a word from me. My fame is well-known in the Northern Provinces. Tonight, my friends and I could leave this city, and in a matter of months, we will be the terror of the north. Colossus will fall; our food stores are such that we can last months until it does, and as soon as we take the port, they will last indefinitely. Let us put an end to our Imperial overlords. Let the one who desires peace, prepare for war!”

  Most of the senators, even some of the Loyalists, cheered at these words. The young, ex-slave was charismatic, Anna had to give him that, and he had left Samuel speechless.

  “I will hear no more of this,” Samuel said, at last. “Let anything we suggest here be within the order of reason. Augustus’s edict stands. Come July, no immigrant will be allowed harbor in Colonia unless they present proof of citizenship. In the meantime, we must register all undocumented migrants already in El Yermo. If they aren’t officially registered by the end of June, then they are in danger of being mistaken for immigrants who arrived at a later date.”

  “How will we enroll so many?” Senator Thomas asked. “It’s an impossible task!”

  “We have done the impossible before,” Samuel said. “What’s writing down a few names? We’ll put callers on every corner. We’ll send envoys to the far caravans to make sure they are reached. We should be able to get them all before the July deadline. And the walls will continue to rise unabated. Far be it from us to make the first move and suffer the Emperor’s wrath. Let our enemies come to us — if they dare. If they do, they will find Colonia no easy meat.”

  The Loyalists on Anna’s side of the stands applauded, but the Separatists were not impressed. Anna knew that they’d rather take the fight straight to the provinces instead of waiting to be attacked.

  As the rest of the session continued, Anna could only wonder if Samuel was really right.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “GOOD,” AELA SAID. “YOU’VE IMPROVING.”

  I lowered my practice sword and tried to catch my breath. Almost two more weeks of practice nearly every morning with Aela had done wonders. It was at some point last week that things began clicking. I probably had the best Treeform of any initiate in the Sanctum, at least as far as I knew. I could now last about half a minute against Aela before she found a way to get a killing blow.

  It was a free day, meaning there were no classes, and it was well that I had improved so much. The Spring Tournament was tomorrow, and if what Aela told me was true, I’d clean up among the initiates.

  “Let’s go another round,” I said.

  The constant practice for long hours ever since entering the Sanctum had done wonders for my physique. I remembered my first practice bouts with Samal, Ret, and Isaru, and because of their size and strength, I could never last long. I got fatigued very quickly. My strength had been of a different kind — more of the working all day under a hot sun kind. Years of that work had made me thin and wiry, and food was sometimes a limiting factor. Here, I had all the food I needed, and under the rigorous demands of my training, which included lifting heavy stones and weights, my body was filling out. Sometimes, I’d run along the ramparts to keep up my endurance, once I had noticed the Champions doing the same. At times, a Champion would see Aela and I training, and if he had the time, he’d show us a few tricks of his own. Usually, they were too complicated for me to grasp, but I appreciated the lesson nonetheless. Soon, it seemed as if everyone in the Sanctum knew where to find us, and we started drawing something of a crowd. At first, it was just one or two people, but today, a full dozen had shown up — among them were Isaru and Samal. When I asked Aela why they were watching, she just smiled knowingly, as if to say I should know that answer myself.

  Aela and I went back at it. As her blade met mine, my movements were fluid and I seemed to know exactly where the blade needed to be. I could see that what Aela had told me was right; using Treeform, I had to move less than she did, which gave me an advantage at defending. Even so, Aela’s experience meant I could never last for long. Not once in all of my training had I been able to score a hit on her.

  Aela swiped my blade aside, causing me to twist my body around. I dropped my blade purposefully; I didn’t know what caused me to do this. Aela’s eyes widened as the force of her swing suddenly met no resistance, throwing her off balance. I charged her, sneaking past her blade and tackling her to the ground.

  We fell on the grass like that and she just stared at me, as if not believing what had happened. She was completely pinned. I allowed myself a smile as our spectators cheered.

  Then, Aela threw me off of her with surprising strength. I landed on my back, and in a second she was onto me, her sword at my throat.

  “Cute,” she said. “But next time, finish the job.”

  She stood up, and I lay on the grass with my eyes closed. Several times like this, I had gotten close, but Aela always pulled out something at the end to win. You didn’t win by throwing your opponent to the ground. You won by killing them. I had thought I’d finally won, and I wanted to savor the moment. That had been my mistake. When you’re fighting for your life, there’s no room for gloating. There’s only one rule: kill or be killed. Killing had to be your only goal, because if it wasn’t, you’d slip up. Bragging about winning can’t be more important than winning itself.

  I pulled myself up, dusting off my robes. Aela was already picking up her blade. The sky had brightened, and the bell tolled once, signaling the start of breakfast.

  “If you want,” Aela said, “I can give you another hour or two. You’re getting good enough to where I’m starting to benefit as well. You’re what we call a scrapper.”

  “A scrapper?”

  “You always scrap something to keep things interesting, pulling off moves I’ve never seen before. I’d tell you not to do them, because they don’t adhere strictly to Treeform, but it’s entertaining to watch, so I just want to see what you come up with.”

  I frowned. I hadn’t been aware of making moves that weren’t textbook perfect, as
I’d always tried to follow strict form. I was getting to the point where I didn’t have to think of every movement — it all seemed to flow like water; at least, until Aela found a way to break my flow. My goal was to get to that point of Silence, where everything but the fight stopped moving, until the fight was my only focus. Stillness shifted into Movement, Resistance into Acceptance. Battle was a constant give and take, and knowing when to resist and when to accept, when to move and went to remain still, was paramount. It was a balance I was still trying to strike, and the key was being aware of each of the Four Disciplines as they were happening, even as you were aware of what your opponent was doing.

  We went inside to eat, and within the hour Aela and I met up outside. The Grove was more crowded — it seemed as if everyone who was in the tournament was sparring. I was humbled that Aela wanted to help me out more instead of seeing to her own training. Or had I just gotten that good?

  “Let’s go somewhere quieter,” Aela said. “I think you’re ready to learn a new form.”

  I had been pestering Aela constantly to teach me a new form, but she had always insisted I excel at Tree if I wanted to win the initiates’ bracket.

  I followed her through the trees until we came to the South Spring. There was a small meadow near it, where Aela and I went to stand. The sky was bright blue with a few wispy clouds, and birds sang from the surrounding trees.

  “Now,” Aela said, “Treeform is what you should stick to in a tournament setting, no question. But if you’re in a tough fight and you have the opportunity to do so, you should transition into another form, which is handy for throwing your opponent off balance. Switching forms in the midst of a duel isn’t easy. Even I have difficulty doing it. Knowing when to do it, and what form to switch to, takes years of training and experience. When you see two Champions doing it, it seems as easy as dancing. In fact, it is a dance. I wanted you to focus on Treeform because it is our base form. It can transition into most others effectively. This is why Treeform, along with a few others, are called transitional forms.”