“My soldier,” she said with a note of pride. “You look the part, the dashing leader you told me of and I always believed you to be.”
There was some talking outside and then almost immediately a knocking on the door.
“I will be there shortly,” Stiger called out in the language of the dwarves, not wishing to part so soon.
Stiger stepped over to the small bag containing his possessions. There wasn’t much, just a leather-bound dispatch pad, charcoal pencil, the gold torc he had taken in personal combat with an orc, and his purse. His pipe and the remainder of his personal items waited in the time from whence he had come and would likely never return. Stiger placed the dispatch pad and pencil into his cloak pocket. Using a thick leather tie, he affixed the gold torc to his chest armor, where he had worn it before.
Stiger hefted the purse, feeling its weight. The coins within chinked. It was only a small sum. He glanced up at Sarai. To her, it would be a fortune. He tossed her the bag, which she caught.
She opened it and her eyes went wide at the sight of the gold coins within.
“If you see the need,” Stiger said, “spend what you will. I mean that.”
“Promise that you will come back to me,” she demanded, throwing the purse onto the table as if it might burn her. “Ben, swear to me upon your honor and love for me that you will come back. You must come back to me. I cannot lose another I hold dear.”
“I will, you have my word on that,” Stiger said. “If it is the last thing I do, I shall return to you.”
He grabbed the saddlebags and threw them over his right shoulder. Tucking his helmet under an arm, he unlatched the door and swung it open and found himself face to face with one of his guards. The dwarf stepped back and to the side as the cold air flooded in.
Centurion Sabinus and Father Thomas were mounted and waiting in the yard. Stiger stepped through the doorway and stopped. Captain Aleric and his entire company were drawn up in ranks, all two hundred. Sarai followed him out. An order was shouted. The company, with their captain standing to their front, snapped to attention. Stiger studied them for a prolonged moment. He had not expected this show of respect, especially after his heated argument with Aleric.
Stiger made his way over, passing slowly before the ranks, studying the dwarves. Their armor was polished and maintained perfectly. The captain offered Stiger a smart salute. Stiger drew himself up and dutifully returned it, fist to chest, legionary style. Stiger made a point of running his eyes once again over the company.
“I already know they can fight, but your warriors look good, Captain,” Stiger said in dwarven. “Very good, indeed. You have a fine company.”
“Thank you,” Aleric said and puffed up at the compliment.
“As we discussed last evening, you will keep Sarai safe.” It was not a question, but an understanding.
“I will,” Aleric affirmed. “Upon my legend and our lives, we will watch Sarai until you return.”
“Thank you.” Stiger turned away back toward the farmhouse and hitching post, where he had left Sarai’s horse saddled and ready to go.
Misty was a young brown mare that Sarai had acquired the previous spring. Stiger had risen well before the sun to brush the animal down and saddle her. The horse was a good mount, but she wasn’t Nomad. He had no doubt she would meet his needs over the next few days. He secured his helmet to the back of the saddle and then worked on the saddlebags behind his blanket. Stiger made a point to check that everything was secure, especially the saddle.
Most horses Stiger had known had the unfortunate tendency to breathe in when being saddled. When the horse finally exhales its saddle ends up loose, which is certain to dump the rider. Sure enough, Misty was no exception. The saddle was slightly loose. He undid the strap and cinched it tighter. Satisfied that all was secure, he untied Misty from the hitching post and with practiced ease swung himself up and onto her back.
The horse took a few nervous steps. Stiger tightened his hold on the reins and Misty stilled. He was in control here, not the horse. Stiger shifted himself back a little, finding a better seat. The saddle was old and the leather badly cracked in places. It showed its wear, but it was well broken in and comfortable.
The horse knew that they were going for a ride and pawed at the ground in eager anticipation.
“Easy, girl,” Stiger soothed, patting the horse on the neck. “We will be on our way soon enough, but then, before you know it, you will be missing your warm barn stall and quiet pasture.”
Sarai walked up to him. He leaned down and gave her a kiss, not caring about those watching. She stepped back, a tear spilling from one eye and running down her cheek. Stiger cleared his throat, jerked slightly on the reins, and pulled Misty around toward Father Thomas and Centurion Sabinus.
The centurion offered him a salute, which Stiger dutifully returned.
“I’m pleased you decided to join us, sir,” Sabinus said.
“I suspected you would come around,” Father Thomas said. “Truthfully, I knew you would. You have an incredible sense of duty.”
Stiger was about to respond when the sound of another horse drew their attention. Theo came riding up on one of the stout mountain ponies that Stiger had seen the dwarves use. Theo’s mount appeared well-provisioned and, more telling, his friend was wearing his armor. Theo’s helmet had been tied to a saddlebag and bounced slightly, as did the dwarf.
“And where exactly do you think you’re going?” Stiger asked Theo.
Theo gave a scowl. “I thought that might have been a little obvious.”
“It was my idea,” Aleric said, stepping over to them and switching from dwarven to accented common for the benefit of the centurion. “Theogdin will act as a go-between for you and the thane’s party.” He paused. “It is my sincerest hope that he will provide an invaluable service to you in negotiating the prickly temperament of my people.”
“As in,” Stiger said, “he may keep me from irritating your thane again?”
“I can only hope,” Aleric said. “It would please me greatly for there to be peace between you both. Trouble is in the air, and as old allies, our peoples must work together, even if your legion is not here to restore the Compact and resurrect the alliance.”
“I wholeheartedly agree with you, Captain,” Stiger said. “Truth be told, I am not terribly unhappy that Theo is coming along. It will be good to have a friend along for the journey.”
Theo, on the other hand, did not appear to think his captain’s idea was all that grand.
“However, he is injured.” Stiger gestured at Theo in a halfhearted manner. “Are you certain about him going with us?”
“He is terrible at faking,” Aleric said with a half shrug. “It’s a shallow cut and given time will heal just fine, whether lounging about in camp causing trouble or on the back of a pony keeping you company and also doing his best to steer you out of trouble.”
Theo shook his head in a disgusted manner as Stiger offered him a knowing grin.
“I appreciate you sending him along,” Stiger said to Aleric. “I am sure he will prove an invaluable addition to our party.”
“Knowing Theo, as I do,” Aleric said with a dramatic breath, “he may very well get you into trouble, but at least he won’t be causing me any grief for a few days.”
“Right.” Stiger looked to the paladin and Sabinus. “Shall we get a move on? I believe we have some distance to cover today.”
“We do,” Sabinus agreed, shooting Theo an amused expression before returning his gaze to Stiger. “We will be meeting up with our men at Bridgetown. We shouldn’t keep them waiting longer than required.”
“Why, centurion, don’t you know?” Stiger said. “Waiting is a requirement of service to the empire.”
“Oh, I’ve learned it well enough,” Sabinus said. “‘Hurry up and wait’ should be the Thirteenth’s motto. We were ordered down to Vrell in a rush, but only to sit tight for months on end doing nothing once we made it down here. Oh, and I a
lmost forgot, if we hurry we may catch the thane’s party in Bridgetown. If we miss them, we will meet up with them in Old City.”
“Well then,” Stiger said and set Misty into a slow walk with a gentle nudge, “let’s get a move on.”
Sabinus started his horse forward, as did Father Thomas. Theo spared Stiger an unhappy look as he passed by. Theo nudged his pony sullenly into a walk, bringing up the rear.
“Good fortune,” Captain Aleric called after Stiger.
“Thank you,” Stiger said. “I will take all that I am offered.”
Sarai was standing in the doorway as he rode out of the farmyard. He raised a hand and waved. She waved back.
He suddenly had the uncomfortable sense he would never again see her in this life. Stiger puffed out his cheeks and offered up a brief but silent prayer to the High Father, begging that the great god look after and make her a definite part of his future. He desired nothing more than to grow old with her.
An excited bark drew his attention back toward the farm. Dog came loping over, slowed, and began padding along next him. Stiger glanced down at the animal for a moment as he turned his horse onto the road. The others were riding just a few feet ahead. Stiger steered his horse around an overly large pothole with a fieldstone sitting in the center and then looked back down at the dog.
“Coming along, I take it?”
Dog gave a vigorous wag of his tail and then sprinted energetically ahead, quickly passing the others. It seemed that wherever Stiger went, Dog intended to go as well.
Stiger nudged Misty into a faster walk and caught up to Sabinus and Father Thomas.
“Taking the dog?” Sabinus asked, a slight frown crossing his face. “I heard about what he did at Bowman’s Pond. Hard to believe that shaggy thing Delvaris kept around has a violent side. Well, I guess he’s yours now.”
“He’s not my dog,” Stiger said.
Dog was several hundred yards ahead of them now. Tail wagging vigorously, he disappeared into a small stand of trees.
“I think he more adopted me than anything else. In a way,” Stiger said, “I think he is his own person. He goes where he wills.”
“I agree with you on that point,” Father Thomas said, eyes on the spot where Dog had disappeared.
“Why the rush to get here?” Stiger was curious to know why the Thirteenth had been sent south. He had assumed it had something to do with the orcs coming to take the valley, but now he was not so sure. Why hurry down here months before any threat was known and then have them wait?
“I honestly don’t know,” Sabinus admitted. “Emperor Atticus gave the legate his orders personally. But beyond that, there is not much to tell. The legate did not share what exactly our orders were. The most believable rumor is that a delegation of dwarves arrived in the capital asking for assistance, though I didn’t hear that one until we arrived at Vrell. Heck, I had no idea dwarves were real until we got to the fortress at Grata’Kor. Also, the dwarves did not seem very keen on letting us into the valley . . . so I would rule that rumor out.”
“Knowing legionaries,” Stiger said with a sudden chuckle, “I imagine there are hundreds of rumors running about camp.”
“More like thousands.” Sabinus seemed amused and then sobered. “With the death of the legate, the only one who knows for sure why we are here is Tribune Arvus, and he’s not told me or the camp prefect of his orders. When I asked, I was told to mind my own business. All he has let slip is that we have come to represent the empire’s concerns with the dwarves.”
“If I had to make a serious guess,” Stiger said, “the Thirteenth is here to honor a treaty, called the Compact.”
“A treaty?” Sabinus seemed shocked by this news. “A treaty with the dwarves?”
Stiger gave a nod.
“It dates back to the founding of the empire,” Father Thomas said, “and the time of Karus.”
“That’s incredible,” Sabinus said. “The empire has a longstanding treaty with the dwarves?”
“Yes,” Stiger said, “we do.”
“Why have I never heard of it before?”
“Knowledge of the treaty was intentionally suppressed. After many centuries, it was forgotten by all but a select few,” Father Thomas said.
“What is the purpose of the treaty?” Sabinus asked.
“The Compact was created to protect something of incredible importance to both the dwarves and our empire,” Father Thomas said.
“The World Gate,” Sabinus guessed, snapping his fingers.
“Very good,” Father Thomas said. “You have seen the Gate room and what came through it. You understand the danger it represents.”
“Yes,” Sabinus said. “Brogan explained, but I still think it incredible that you could actually travel to another world like our own.”
“It is,” Stiger agreed. “I was surprised to learn Rome was a real place, just on a different world.”
“Not just mythology, it seems,” Sabinus said
Stiger looked over at Sabinus, a thought occurring to him. The empire’s borders in this time were hundreds of miles from Vrell, perhaps even more than a thousand. “Did you have any problems marching to Vrell? It is a long way from friendly territory, is it not?”
“Oh, it is,” Sabinus confirmed. “The only real trouble was the Tervay. Once we got past them, no one wanted to mess with a small army of over thirteen thousand moving through their lands. And we moved quickly in the event they changed their minds on that point.”
“If I recall,” Stiger said, “the Tervay were a collection of barbarian tribes, is that right?”
“Were?” Sabinus gave a chuckle. “I keep forgetting. This must be ancient history for you.”
“Somewhat,” Stiger admitted and then shrugged. “I guess you can say it’s now current history for me.”
“True,” Sabinus agreed. “We marched into Tervay lands with four other legions, the Seventh, Ninth, Tenth, and Fourteenth.”
“That must have been an incredible display of imperial might,” Stiger said, marveling and thinking back to his time fighting the Rivan in the North. Though there were four legions fighting in the North, the most he had ever seen together were two in any one place.
“It was impressive,” Sabinus said. “The marching column, from the vanguard of the first legion to the rearguard of the last legion, stretched for over one hundred miles. At least that is what our cavalry scouts told me. Not counting the camp followers, all five legions and auxiliary cohorts numbered somewhere around sixty thousand men. I’ve served eighteen years, sir, and I’ve never seen the like.”
“How did it go when you entered Tervay lands?”
“Predictably,” Sabinus said, “they came out to fight. It was rugged terrain, steep hills, lowland swamps, and mostly forested with no real roads to speak of. They are savages, really.” Sabinus fell silent a moment, thinking. “Despite being thorough barbarians, tough bastards they are, sir. During the first few days of the campaign, due to the terrain it was very hard to maintain organization and set lines.”
“I can imagine,” Stiger said. “I’ve fought over ground like you are describing. It naturally lends itself to the defense.”
Sabinus grinned. “That’s what we did, sir. We dug in and they foolishly came at us. They’d never seen legionaries before and, as hairy-assed barbarians, were totally lacking discipline, and they came at us in a shrieking mob. Some of the new recruits shat themselves, but the veterans knew what was what. We slaughtered them, like felling hay, and broke them in just a few hours. When the order came to break away and strike out on our own, it was a surprise. As the other legions pursued the Tervay deeper into their lands and back to their villages, the Thirteenth slipped away, marching south straight through their lands and out.” Sabinus scowled slightly. “We were getting regular messengers updating us on the progress of the campaign. That continued up until a month ago, but then stopped. We’ve had no word from them since. It has me a little concerned, sir.”
“What
did the latest dispatches report?”
“The last dispatch mentioned the Tervay had abandoned their villages and took to the forests. They were conducting small-scale raids, or had holed up in hill forts,” Sabinus said. “The campaign seemed to have bogged down, with supply becoming a problem, sir.”
Stiger recalled reading about how it had taken four years of bloody fighting to subdue the Tervay. What he had not known was that the Thirteenth had been part of the initial thrust into Tervay territory. He suspected that, much like the scrubbing of the Compact from history, there had been an organized effort to remove the Thirteenth’s mission as well.
“You wouldn’t know what happens, sir?” Sabinus asked.
“I do,” Stiger said.
“Can you tell me? I have friends fighting there.”
Stiger spared a glance over at Father Thomas as they clopped along. The paladin gave a shrug.
“We will eventually subdue the Tervay,” Stiger said, “but it will take time and prove costly.”
Sabinus grimly nodded. Stiger regarded the centurion. What Stiger had just told him was likely nothing Sabinus had not already suspected. Besides, if things played out as they had in Stiger’s time, Sabinus would not be returning to the empire in his own time, but in Stiger’s.
“In the end,” Stiger added, “they will supply some of our best auxiliary cohorts.”
“That’s something, at least.”
“What he tells you of coming events,” Father Thomas said, drawing the centurion’s attention, “you must share with no one. Much depends upon the future playing out as we need it to.”
“I understand, Father.”
They rode in silence for a while, Theo still dragging and bringing up the rear. Stiger spared a glance back at the dwarf. Head down, he was muttering to himself and clearly sulking. Stiger knew he would soon get over it. The irrepressible Theo would return.
Putting Theo’s unhappiness from his mind, Stiger scanned for Dog along the roadside, which was bordered by a small thicket of trees and brush. He saw the animal far ahead, smelling a bush. A moment later the dog plunged headlong into the brush and was lost from view.
The Tiger's Time (Chronicles of An Imperial Legionary Officer Book 4) Page 14
