by Jim Roberts
The Vagabonds
Book Four of the Code of War
By Jim Roberts
Cover Art by Orina Kafe
Copyright 2016 James Payette
Kindle Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Amazon.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. 1.3
Acknowledgements
I wish to dedicate this book to Ron Friedman and Harry Gregson-Williams.
And to my Ma, for everything.
This book contains course language and extreme action/adventure violence.
Reader discretion is advised.
The Peacemakers take on the cruel private military known as Olympus. The battle for the Code of War has only just begun...
Ex-Army Ranger Joe Braddock and his unit of Peacemakers take on the mysterious PMC known to the world as Olympus. The cruel Military will stop at nothing to bring down Braddock's team of elite military operators, while at the same time trying to recover the enigmatic Code of War: two discs containing immense power that somehow holds the key to Olympus's ascension...
Praise for Olympus Rises
Olympus reveals itself to the world. Joe Braddock and Danny Callbeck steal one half of the Code of War. All epics must have a beginning...
"PULLS NO PUNCHES . . . exciting for fans of militaristic action!" − Adam Knight, author of Overdrive: Cowboy Ending
"SMART, EFFECTIVELY WRITTEN . . . it's (like) G.I. Joe mixed with Die Hard" − HeroicFantasyWriters.com
"FAST PACED SPECULATIVE FICTION . . . a worthy addition to any book lovers’ collection!" −John Reinhard Dizon, author of The Kingdom
"THIS IS WHAT G.I. JOE MOVIES SHOULD HAVE BEEN LIKE!" − M. Joseph Murphy, author of Council of Peacocks
"NEVER A DULL MOMENT . . . there are moments when the story is frightening in its realism!" − Ava Armstrong, author of A Sense of Duty
Praise for The Peacemakers
Olympus has risen. For Joe Braddock and his warrior brother, Danny Callbeck, the war with the enigmatic military known as Olympus has only begun. A globe-trotting adventure awaits those with the courage to fight...
"I'M VERY IMPRESSED WITH THE WORK OF JIM ROBERTS...an ideal selection for a 4th of July present!" − Walter Rhein, author of The Bone Sword
"I LOVE THIS STORY . . . Jim Roberts is an up and coming new writer!" − Ava Armstrong, author of A Sense of Duty
Praise for Stream of Madness
Joe Braddock returns to the Middle East in search of a lost comrade. Amidst a hellish landscape of war and murder, Braddock must face an enemy bent on his utter destruction. The action never stops as the Code of War rages on…
"FILLED WITH ADRENALINE AND TESTOSTERONE...you feel as if you are viewing the characters face-to-face!" –Ava Armstrong, author of A Sense of Duty
“War is the realm of uncertainty; three quarters of the factors on which action in war is based are wrapped in a fog of greater or lesser uncertainty. A sensitive and discriminating judgment is called for; a skilled intelligence to scent out the truth.”
– Carl Von Clausewitz
"The die is cast"
-Julius Caesar
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
About the Author
Prologue
Italy, 412 AD
THE CHAOS of war echoed across the courtyard as Honorius stabbed his gladius through the belly of an unlucky Legion soldier. Blood flowed from the grievous wound, staining the grounds of the once proud villa of Pentedattilo, home of the mighty Roman General Suetonius. The Legionarii screamed in pain. Pulling the blade free, Honorius kicked the man to the dirt.
So much death.
Beyond the courtyard—on the mountain path below—Honorius watched as the last of his men battled valiantly to hold off the invading horde of Roman soldiers. The dream that was Olympia had died on the vine. There would be no reinforcements this day—no one to come to Honorius’s aid in this crushing defeat.
It was time to flee.
Turning toward the villa proper, the Tribunus laticlavius left his men to hold off the encroaching attackers.
The end would come soon. For him, and the dream of Olympia.
It had all seemed to so perfect. Nestled within the high peaks of Monte Calvario, the villa was the largest in Italy—remote, well stocked and heavily fortified. It made the perfect home to the greatest general in Rome’s history. In this place, the newly formed Brotherhood of Olympia had risen an army and built great weapons of war.
Soon, it would be a ruin. Destroyed by the hell that was the Empire.
As he reached the entrance to the atrium, Honorius heard the screams of his own men, dying at the hands of the invaders. Dozens of Legion soldiers poured into the courtyard, hot with the thrill of combat. There would be no quarter this day.
Gritting his teeth, the Tribunus threw open the atrium door and rushed in, slamming it behind him. He reached for the heavy iron bar to the side and slung it across the entrance, barring the way, at least for a few precious moments.
Honorius was amazed the siege had lasted so long. They’d held for over two weeks against the might of the 10th Legion, as Suetonius’s war machines positioned around the mountainside hampered the climb for the Legionarii. But Suetonius had only a skeleton force left to hold the villa. So many of the Brotherhood had been lost in the Great Battle of the Apian just one month ago.
All falling apart...a dream dying around us...
Honorius turned and rushed through the atrium, wiping his blade on his sleeve before sheathing it. He gripped the lashes that held his galea to his head and undid them, throwing the helmet to the ground. His thin brown hair stuck to his sweat-drenched forehead. He was only twenty-four winters, but had seen such death and pain in his life, it was forever etched in his haunted green eyes.
The Tribunus jogged from room to room, searching in vain for his master. After a moment, a pounding noise came from the atrium entrance.
A battering ram.
It wouldn’t be long now.
A loud crack split the open atrium as a siege stone crashed into the villa, breaking apart across the roof. Honorius had to leap out of the way as a falling slab of stone fell mere inches from his person.
Where was the General?
The pounding at the atrium entrance became louder. The superbly reinforced door, crafted to Suetonius’ own specifications, would hold only for so long against the might of the Legion. If he did
n’t get the General to safety, all would be lost.
From the atrium, Honorius entered into the Peristylium, the once tranquil garden he and the General would often discuss strategy for the taking of Rome. After weeks of siege, it had been reduced to nothing—its beautiful trees having long been turned to firewood.
The whole villa was eerily quiet, save for the incessant pounding of the ram. As Honorius looked through the rooms surrounding the garden, most were in utter ruin; destroyed by the siege.
Finally, he found his master.
Legatus Legionis Suetonius Agrippa, Commander of the 10th Gemina Legion, stood within the tablinum; the office area of the villa. Here, the paterfamilias would watch the daily comings and goings of his home.
At first, Honorius was puzzled when he saw his master. Suetonius still wore his armor and grieves, with his beloved white wolf skin adorning his shoulders. The man was as regal now in his fiftieth year as he was battling the Goths and the Huns in his youth. His hair, white as the skin of his wolf, only added to his magnificence.
Suetonius stood in front of a great marble bust, which he chipped away at with a mallet and chisel. Beyond him, the wall of the villa gave way to a balcony overlooking the valley below.
Honorius was out of breath as he rushed up to his commander, clapping his fist to his chest in salute. This may be the end of all things, but he was still a soldier. Discipline was all Honorius knew.
“My lord, why are you here? The Legion will break in any moment now. There is still a chance to flee!”
Suetonius said nothing, continuing to chip away at the statue.
“My lord—”
“I shall not flee, my friend,” said Suetonius, tapping the chisel against the ear of the bust. A siege bolt slammed into the wall of the villa, causing the Legatus to accidently chip a larger piece away than he meant. He grimaced in annoyance.
Honorius was beside himself, “But...my lord, you cannot stay! The Brotherhood must live on...you must live on. We are lost without our Imperator!”
Suetonius smiled sadly. “The battle is over, but Olympia shall live on.”
“My lord, I don’t understand.”
Suetonius tapped at the marble, unperturbed by the events around him, “I have sent carrier pigeons to our brothers in hiding to await the command of our new Imperator. He shall lead the remnants of the Brotherhood until the time is right to strike once more.”
Honorius was confused. “But...you are our Imperator.”
Suetonius ignored the statement. Instead, he pointed toward the open balcony. “Bring me that crest—the one sitting on that table beside the window.”
Confused, Honorius did as his lord commanded. As he went, his eyes flicked to look beyond the window. Down below the villa, he could see the masses of the 10th Legion Cohorts, no doubt already reveling in their success.
Honorius picked up the crest. He noticed it was made from an odd material he’d never seen before. It was a hard, shiny black mineral, shaped into the form of a coyote head. He passed it to Suetonius. Putting down his mallet and chisel, the Legatus took the crest—running his fingers over the strange object.
“Obsidian. A rare glass formed from volcanic lava flows. Extraordinary, isn’t it?”
“Yes, my lord,” Honorius didn’t know what else to say.
“It has been in my family for six generations, a symbol of a time long forgotten and my right to command. I had always meant to pass it to my own son had he...” Suetonius swallowed his next words. With a final caress of the obsidian, he passed the crest back to Honorius. “Now it is yours.”
“But...my lord, I can not—”
“You must, my friend. This is not the end. You must continue my work.”
Honorius didn’t know what to do. He had suspected that perhaps one day this would be asked of him. How could he take over the leadership of the Olympia Brotherhood? He was nowhere near the military genius Suetonius was.
“Legatus, I won’t...”
“You will survive this day, my friend. To the rear of this house, at the far end of my living quarters is a small latch built into the marble wall. It will open a secret passage that leads through the mountain. Once on the other side, you shall make your way to Syracuse.”
Honorius nervously looked back toward the atrium, where he knew the door would give way any moment. “But, my lord, why Syracuse?”
“Any remaining Brotherhood survivors will meet there. I have stored away the bulk of our remaining resources at a compound in the city. Take command of what remains of our force. Lead them better than I did.”
“But...I can’t leave you sir...you will die.”
Suetonius turned back to his statue, “A dream can never die, my friend. Olympia is an idea that will continue on. One day a world will be born, free of war and chaos.” He sighed, moving the chisel across the marble as if to sooth his nerves, “Pass on what I have taught you, my friend. The ideas and virtues we stand for shall one day lead the world out of madness. Do this for me.”
Honorius looked at the obsidian crest in his hand, his mind a whirl of emotion. I cannot lead Olympia...I am not worthy.
Sensing his young protégé’s thoughts, Suetonius looked Honorius square in the eye, “This is your Brotherhood now, Honorius. Make me proud.” Setting aside the mallet and chisel, he clapped his Tribunus on the shoulders. “Fraternitas bellatorum, qui inhonorem.”
Clasping the General’s hand with his own, Honorius spoke in friendship and honor. “Ad manus fratrum, my Imperator.”
“You are Imperator now, Honorius. Lead the Brotherhood with honor.” Suetonius retrieved his tools and returned to his sculpture, “Go now. Before it is too late.”
Honorius wanted more than anything to stay with his Legatus. The thought of continuing the Brotherhood without Suetonius was unthinkable. But his lord’s orders would be obeyed, no matter what. Honorius made a final bow, then turned away, eyes clouded with tears. He rushed out into the Peristylium and headed toward Suetonius’s quarters. At that moment, he heard the atrium door shatter apart. Harsh voices shouted commands to men-at-arms.
Honorius had mere seconds now.
Rushing into the stately bedroom, he searched the fine marble wall with his hands. Frantic, knowing the Legion soldiers would bear down on him any moment, he searched for the hidden entrance.
After several agonizing seconds of searching, he found the latch. Pulling it, the sound of moving gears could be heard and a tiny section of the wall gave way. Peering in, Honorius glimpsed a set of stairs carved out of the old passageway. Wasting no more time, he squeezed through, no easy task in his armor, and pushed the way closed. Praying he’d not been detected, the Tribunus fled down the stairway.
Farewell, my Imperator.
One day, your ideas shall make the world whole.
By the honor of Olympia, I swear it!
SUETONIUS GRIPPED the mallet tightly as he chiseled off a final piece from the face of the statue. Behind him, he could hear the footsteps of the Legion soldiers, intent on ending his life. The thought of death frightened him not at all. His legacy would go one, remembered by those who carried on his vision of a world at one with itself. Time would see it through.
Suetonius stepped back to admire the statue, finished at last.
“Perfect,” he remarked out loud, “An ideal creation.”
The marble statue stood proudly in front of him. His likeness was now perfectly engraved for all time, standing tall against the setting sun streaming through the window.
“One day, Rome will be restored—a beacon of light in a world of darkness.”
Suetonius turned toward the sound of men rushing toward him. Soldiers of the 10th Legion, clad in burnished armor, ran toward him. Their eyes burned with hate, and they roared with battle lust.
He stood there, still as the statue behind him.
“I am Suetonius Agrippa, Legatus of Rome...and my war will go on forever.”
The lead centurion charged full bore at Suetonius, sw
ord raised.
The Legatus closed his eyes.
The blade fell.
A fan of blood splashed across the statue, marring its perfection. Outside the villa, cheers of victory rose from the throngs of Legionarii, celebrating the fall of the great Suetonius Agrippa.
Thus ended the life of the first Imperator of Olympia, whose vision was destined to change the world…
Chapter 1
Ascension
“Good evening. There has been a stunning development in the South Atlantic today. What appeared at first to be an evacuation of the small British Island of Ascension has blown up into an international crisis. Yesterday, it is reported that at approximately 5:00 Greenwich Mean Time, a radiation leak on Ascension’s Royal Air Force base forced a mass evacuation of the island’s 800 inhabitants.”
“Earlier today, a message was sent to the British government by the Private Military Company, Olympus. It stated that due to the United Kingdom’s lack of care and overall weak leadership of the Oceanic region, the Private Military Company would be annexing the island, as well as claiming a thirty-mile radius around it as a no-fly zone. Exactly one hour after the message was delivered, an attack force of unknown numbers of Olympus troops and equipment landed on the island, apparently unafraid of the nuclear leak.
Olympus representatives have yet to comment on these incredible events. Stay tuned for more to come. Evan Arsenault, CNN News, Washington.”
