Fort Covenant_Tales of the Seventh

by Marc Edelheit

  “Really?” The tribune cocked his head to the side.

  “We must concentrate all available forces here, sir, where there is the chance of holding off the enemy,” Stiger said. “I could not leave them behind to be slaughtered.”

  “And what of Fort Ida?” Declin’s eyes narrowed. “Why are they not with you?”

  “Lieutenant Teevus refused to give up his fort,” Stiger said. “I gave him the chance, but he refused.”

  “I see.” Declin sucked in a deep breath. “Well, at least one of my officers has some sense.”

  “Remaining to fight and die for nothing does not strike me as very sensible, sir. By rights, he should have come with us, especially when I ordered him to do so.”

  “You freely admit to exceeding your orders, then?” There was a sense of triumph in Declin’s tone. “Very well, I have heard enough. Prefect Lears, you may arrest Lieutenant Stiger.”

  Stiger took a step back and glanced between the two officers. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Were they mad? Were they so out of touch? It did not seem possible.

  Lears motioned his men forward. Stiger took another step backwards. Behind him there was a commotion. Swords were drawn. Stiger’s men began moving forward toward the auxiliaries, who suddenly checked their advance.

  “Now, Lieutenant Stiger,” Declin said, “don’t make this worse than it is. I will not hesitate to order the slaughter of your men.”

  With swords drawn and shields out, Stiger’s men meant business. Even Pazzullo’s men had raised their bows, arrows at the ready. Stiger’s gaze swung back on Declin and the auxiliaries, who appeared somewhat uncertain but had also drawn their swords. He wasn’t so sure it would be as one-sided as the tribune had suggested.

  Stiger was moved by the loyalty of his men. Despite that, and even for his own sake, he could not allow them to shed imperial blood. He was simply not his father. Stiger was certain this was a terrible misunderstanding on the tribune’s part. He was confident that when tempers cooled, he would be shown innocent and the tribune would take his news seriously.

  “Stand down,” Stiger said. His men did not move. He hardened his voice. “I said stand down, now.”

  Reluctantly, swords were sheathed and the men moved back and away from him.

  “I would not have enjoyed ordering the deaths of your men,” Declin said. “Prefect Lears, if you would?”

  “Take him,” Lears snapped, seeming to relish giving the order.

  The three auxiliaries who had accompanied the tribune and prefect moved forward. Each of Stiger’s arms was seized in a vice-like grip. His sword and dagger were removed. He was roughly searched for other weapons.

  “There is an army on the march,” Stiger said, directing himself to the tribune. “It’s coming here. I sent word to the general. With luck, the Third is already on her way.”

  “Lieutenant Hollux informed me of your actions,” Declin said in a sad tone. “You should know I have already dispatched a note to your general advising him that we are dealing with raiding parties you mistook for more, something my men are fully capable of handling.”

  “You can’t be serious, sir?” Stiger exclaimed.

  “I am,” the tribune said with a sneer. “Take him from my sight.”

  The men began to drag Stiger into the fort.

  “But, sir,” Stiger said as he was pulled past, “I took an important prisoner. He will confirm what I’ve told you. Ask him.”

  “Stop,” the tribune called and then walked up to Stiger. “I interviewed your Lieutenant Crief and I can assure you he is quite mad. Whatever he has told you is purely nonsense. Nothing of value can be gained from the man.”

  “How do you explain the Rivan heavy infantry that we attacked at Cora’Tol or the enemy cavalry, sir? They are not figments of my imagination.”

  “Listen here, Stiger.” Acid dripped from the tribune’s tongue as he spoke. “You are a traitor’s son. In my mind, you are no better than a dog. I don’t care what your initial orders contained, but I can tell you that I will get to the bottom of it, and when I do, you shall hang as your father should have. I would rather trust Lieutenant Aggar, whom I view as a second son, than the likes of you. Now take him from my sight.”

  “You are making a mistake,” Stiger yelled back as he was dragged into the fort. “There is a Rivan army coming! Don’t be a fool! You are making a mistake!”

  A cohort was assembling on the parade ground. Stiger saw that activity ceased as all eyes turned their way.

  “You made the mistake,” Prefect Lears said, walking alongside as Stiger was dragged roughly along. “You are nothing more than a filthy bastard, no better than a mad dog.”

  Stiger struggled to break free, but the hold on him was simply too strong. The third man came up from behind, grabbed Stiger’s hair painfully, and forced his head forward so he was looking at the ground.

  Stiger managed to catch a glimpse of Tiro and a few of his men watching from a barracks doorway, and then he was past. A few moments later, they entered a building that smelled bad and was poorly lit by a single lantern. The man from behind still had a firm grip on his hair, keeping Stiger’s gaze fixed onto the battered wooden floor. It was badly in need of a sweeping. He heard a rattle of keys and the mechanism of a lock turning.

  The grip on his hair was released. Stiger looked up and found he was in a small single-room building with three metal-barred cells. The cell door he was standing before was opened and he was thrown inside. He landed in a tumble on the wood-planked floor. Before he could pull himself to his feet, Prefect Lears entered the cell and knelt down beside him. A fist from the prefect slammed into Stiger’s jaw. For a moment, Stiger saw white, and then his vision cleared. He reached up to his jaw, which hurt something awful.

  “How dare you?” Lears hissed, voice shaking with ill-concealed rage. “How dare you order the burning of my fort? When it comes time to stretch your neck, I promise you I will be in the first row to watch. Perhaps I shall even volunteer to assist the hangman. Won’t that be a kindness?”

  “There is an army coming,” Stiger said, tasting blood from a split lip. It ran down his chin and dripped onto the floor.

  “There is no army,” Lears spat. “They are only raiders, you dumb fool. We’ve seen their likes before in these parts. You allowed your imagination to get the better of you. Now, I have to go and rectify the damage you’ve done.” Lears sucked in a breath and released it. “Since my cohort is exhausted from the march here because my fool lieutenant was taken in by your madness, I have to take one of the Covenant cohorts to put this raid down.”

  “Don’t go,” Stiger said. “Please listen to me. You—”

  Lears punched him again. The force of the blow caused the side of Stiger’s head to slam into the floor. Stiger found he was dazed for a moment, and struggled to regain his wits. Lears stood.

  “I shall return to watch you hang.” Lears stepped out of the cell. “The tribune has promised me that singular honor. All I have to do is beat back the enemy’s raiding parties and you are mine. It’s nothing I’ve ever had a problem doing before and shouldn’t prove to be much of a challenge.”

  Stiger sat up as the door to his cell was closed and locked.

  Lears chuckled darkly. “You know, even if you had served honorably, and had been falsely accused, I would still have been in the front row to watch you hang. You understand, family business, but a pleasure just the same.”

  “You are a fool.” Stiger spat out blood.

  “Maybe so, maybe not. But you both shall hang nonetheless.” With that, the prefect left. Lears looked back once, smiling as the outer door was closed.

  Stiger got to his feet. He heard a scuffing off to his side. He glanced around and spotted Hollux in the next cell over, looking rather miserable. There was no one else with them in the jailhouse.

  “Fancy meeting you here,” Stiger said.

  “I’m going to hang,” Hollux said numbly.

  “No, I don’t th
ink you will.” Stiger began untying his armor.

  “How can you say that?” Hollux stood.

  “Oh,” Stiger shrugged out of his armor, “I think the Rivan will get here before they have the chance to put the hangman’s noose around our necks. In the end, I shall be proven right.”

  “Really?” Hollux looked suddenly hopeful. “Do you think so?”

  “I am certain.” Stiger placed his armor carefully against the bars of the cell and then laid down on his bench. He gingerly touched his split lip, which still freely bled. “To be honest, I don’t think it will help us very much.”

  “What?” Hollux stepped up to the bars, gripping them.

  “The Rivan will be the ones that get us,” Stiger said and let out a heavy breath. “Tribune Declin has sent a message to General Treim that will see the Third turned back.” Stiger paused and felt his jaw where Lears had struck him. It ached terribly, but what hurt even more was the knowledge that all of his efforts had come to naught. He glanced at Hollux. “We shall die all right, but at the hands of the enemy.”

  Using his arms for a pillow, Stiger closed his eyes.

  “What are we going to do?”

  “At the moment,” Stiger said, “nothing much. If I am to die, then I intend to do it well-rested.”

  “Sleep?” Hollux fairly screeched. “You’re going to sleep?”

  “Yes, and I would appreciate it if you kept it down,” Stiger said. “It’s been a good long while since I’ve had a full night’s sleep and I intend on getting it.”

  With that, he surrendered and allowed blissful oblivion to overtake him.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “All you do is sleep,” Hollux said, sounding thoroughly put out.

  Stiger cracked open an eye and turned his head to look over at Hollux, who was sitting on the bench in his own cell. Without a fire, the small jailhouse was cold with the early morning chill. They had passed an uncomfortable night, with only their tunics for warmth.

  “So?” Stiger asked. “What’s your point?”

  “It’s been two days,” Hollux said, the frustration leaking into his voice. “We’ve been stuck here for two entire days.”

  “So?” Giving up on the idea of further sleep, he sat up. “What else is there to do? Besides, I’ve not gotten this much sleep in weeks.” Stiger yawned, stretching. “I feel fully rested. You know, it might not be a bad thing to get locked up now and again.”

  Hollux shook his head in disgust. “How can you joke at a time like this?”

  “It’s about one of the few things we are free to do at the moment,” Stiger said. “Get it? Free?”

  “This sitting around is driving me mad.” Hollux stood and began pacing his small cell. “I want out.”

  “I didn’t realize that you were so eager to greet the hangman,” Stiger said, letting slip a slight grin. “That or the Rivan, whoever comes first.”

  Hollux chuckled, finally giving in to the black humor. He stopped pacing. “Anything seems better than just sitting here. They only come in once a day to give us food. We’ve had no visitors. It is boring.”

  “Are you saying my company is tedious?”

  “Don’t start that again,” Hollux said. “Seriously, all we’ve been able to do is talk.”

  “It has afforded us time to become better acquainted,” Stiger said.

  Though Hollux was at least ten years his senior, Stiger felt like the older lieutenant was his junior in age. The man talked incessantly, a byproduct of his nervousness at their current condition. Despite that, Stiger found Hollux an affable fellow who was honest almost to a fault.

  “I’ve learned more about you and your family,” Stiger said. “Your father is an honorable man, your mother a lovely woman. They had two sons and a daughter. Your brother . . . ah . . . ” Stiger snapped his fingers. “Terguna, stayed home to help run your family’s interests. And you’ve told me all about your sister Amelis, whom you adore. Her marriage to that Meklen fellow, a good prospect that turned out not to be so respectable. ‘He’s a real bastard,’ I think is how you put it.”

  Hollux spared him a rueful look, but refused to be drawn out.

  Stiger pursed his lips as he contemplated his fellow prisoner. He had learned that, as he had expected, Hollux had not thrived in the legions. Hollux had been transferred to the auxiliaries, where he’d finally found a place but, in Stiger’s estimation, not a home. Unable to advance, Hollux had settled in, seeking nothing more than to complete his service and obtain his pension. He was an embarrassment to his father, who had effectively disowned him.

  “You have told me so little about yourself,” Hollux said suddenly, turning it back on Stiger. “Your father, next to the emperor, is the most famous man in the empire.”

  “Infamous is more like it,” Stiger said, suddenly feeling uncomfortable.

  “During the civil war he defeated army after army,” Hollux said in a tone that was somewhat awed. “I’ve studied his exploits.”

  “Only to lose in the end,” Stiger said quietly.

  “His battles have become legend,” Hollux said. “It must have been glorious to see.”

  “Glorious?” Stiger said, glancing down at the floor and shaking his head slowly. “I don’t think so. Glory is a word that those who have not known combat freely bandy about.”

  Hollux did not look convinced by that.

  “What was it like growing up under such a man?” Hollux asked. “It must have been incredible.”

  “It was far from that,” Stiger said, thinking back upon his childhood, the latter end of which he viewed as an unhappy time. “My father is a hard, unforgiving man.”

  Hollux was silent for several heartbeats. “I think there is some of him in you.”

  “Perhaps,” Stiger said, and though he wished to deny it, he understood the truth in those words. He was very much like his father.

  “Come on, it could not have been all that bad,” Hollux said. “I’ve heard you were the childhood playmate of our emperor. Is that true?”

  Stiger nodded, feeling even more uncomfortable with the turn of the conversation. “After the war, it was likely the only reason my family was spared. That and my mother was the emperor’s sister,” Stiger paused, the hurt at her loss pulling at his heart. “She did not make it through the war.”

  “Oh,” Hollux said, a little lamely. “I am sorry. I did not know . . . ”

  Stiger looked up at Hollux and saw that he was sincere. This man dealt with him for who he was, not his family name. It was a rare thing.

  “So, let me get this straight,” Stiger said, seeking to divert the conversation. “After your term of service is completed, you’re going to find a woman?”

  “It hardly matters now,” Hollux said with a heavy sigh and sat down on his bench.

  “Raise a family?” Stiger said, a grin finding its way back onto his face.

  Hollux scowled at Stiger. In the dim light, Stiger thought he saw the other color. After a moment, the expression softened. “Yes, a family would be nice, but I also intended to petition the court for a civil service position. I am sure my father will do nothing to help me. Perhaps a lower level provincial judge, or something like that. Enough to live comfortably.”

  “A peaceful life then?”

  “Until you arrived, I led a very peaceful life,” Hollux chuckled and then made a show of glancing around his cell. “Now, it seems I am destined to face either the hangman or end my days on the point of a Rivan sword.”

  “Now you’re getting into the spirit of things,” Stiger said with a chuckle. “I’ve found that humor can be a soldier’s best friend.”

  “Is that so?”

  The outer door rattled. They only brought food around midday, but bright morning sunlight flooded into the interior of the dim jail from the small slit windows. Stiger and Hollux shielded their eyes against the penetrating light as the door swung open.

  “Been getting some rest, sir?”

  “Tiro,” Stiger exclaimed, lowe
ring his hand and standing. He was pleased to see his sergeant healthy and well. “How are the men?”

  Stiger’s sergeant walked up to the cage.

  “Doing well, sir,” Tiro said, studying Stiger and then Hollux. He gave an unhappy scowl at what he saw. “They’ve been enjoying life some, resting, eating, and generally getting soft. Since we got here, they’ve not had an officer to push them.”

  “Guilty as charged, I am afraid,” Stiger said. “I’ve been shirking, you see.”

  “I would never dream of accusing an officer of dodging his duty, sir,” Tiro said. “Besides, we both know you are not the type.”

  “Varus?” Stiger asked. “How is he?”

  “He’s mending,” Tiro said. “Still recovering his wits with that nasty knock on the head. He’s got one heck of a bump, but Nera’s been taking good care of him.”

  “Nera?” Stiger was immensely relieved to hear that Varus was doing well. “Who?”

  “That woman we rescued back at the farm,” Tiro said. “She’s become quite attached to our corporal.”

  Stiger had never learned the woman’s name and now felt slightly embarrassed that he had not made the attempt. It had been nothing overt on his part. He had just had a lot on his plate at the time.

  “Any news?” Hollux asked, stepping nearer.

  “That’s why I’m here,” Tiro said. “A messenger, along with a troop of cavalry, has arrived from the Third. Can you believe it? The general sent a ranger. I’ve not seen one since the Wilds. Along with the troop commander, he’s with the tribune now.”

  Stiger stepped up to the metal bars of his cage and gripped them. “What word does he bring?”

  “I don’t know,” Tiro admitted. “I was in the barracks and heard word that he had arrived. They were in with the tribune before I could learn something.”

  Stiger wondered what it meant. Was the messenger here with a reply accepting the tribune’s report? Or did he bring word of something else? Was Stiger to be delivered to the general to face trial?

  “Why didn’t you come sooner?” Stiger asked, eyes narrowing. “Why wait so long?”