“Understood, sir. Who is this agent?”
“His name is Nerthus. He’s one of the Praetorian Umbra’s gang. They have some sort of operation going within Oberon itself, so he will be your eyes on the ground. While I can’t tell you much more than that, just know that he’s a professional, and he will probably find you first.”
“Are we to engage the bandits upon discovery?”
“That is a judgment call on your part, Else. Listen to Nerthus to size them up. If they are small in number, then yes. If not, hook up with the other two Outrider contingents and mount a joint attack. I doubt they could stand up to three Outrider groups working together. The primary task, of course, is the recovery of the stolen items. Make that happen however you can. In this rare circumstance, killing the bandits is secondary to recovering their stolen cargo. If they flee and leave the objective, secure it and come home. Ken?”
“There is one small wrinkle to this mission,” the Legion Commander took a deep breath. “Namely that we don’t know the nature of what was stolen. That it means so much to Ebizar forces us to be cautious about it. Sadly, the majority of the stories you’ve heard about his cult’s dark rituals are true. Which means we are probably not dealing with a mundane object. Because of this unknown quantity, I’ve spoken to Varvara, the Weaver’s representative here at the Citadel. She agrees with the Praetorian Militant and myself that the possibility of our objective being some powerful, corruptive, magical item is too great to ignore. And, not to knock our own capabilities Johan, but we are not skilled or equipped for that possibility. So, the Weaver’s have agreed to attach one of their order to your unit for the duration of this mission. He will be nominally under your command, but if the target does indeed turn out to be magical in nature, he is tasked with handling and transporting the item. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
Atrarch nodded. “Good. Your brother should already have sent your lists to the Quartermaster’s office. I also notified them to release five horses to you and your men this morning, with supplies for a week. You are to leave as soon as you return to your barracks. But before you leave here, go meet the Weaver’s representative and bring him with you. And Johan?”
“Sir?”
“I know you haven’t had much, if any, first-hand experience with Weavers, so let me warn you. They do things a little…differently than we do.”
“Understood sir.”
“Commander?”
“Sir?”
Atrarch’s voice softened. “You’re a good man. You wouldn’t be here otherwise. And you lead good men. Listen to what they have to say. And make sure they know you listen. Same with Nerthus and the Weaver. But you are in command. You decide how to do things. Don’t doubt yourself, and they won’t either.”
“I won’t. Thank you sir.”
“Dismissed.”
Johan saluted the two senior men, who returned it back, and he spun on his heel and marched out, his helmet tucked under his right arm. When he was gone, the door closed behind him, Atrarch sighed and looked at Hauge.
“I wish we didn’t have to do this. This one is going to be ugly.”
The Praetorian simply looked down at the map. “I know, but we don’t really have a choice. This opportunity will let us kill two birds with one stone, so to speak.”
“That’s rather poor phrasing, sir.”
Hauge winced. “I know. But I need men I can trust on this one. Men I know are still completely loyal and will bring anything they find back to us. Kinnese and Samnusen are good Outriders, as are their men. Or I suppose I should say they were good Outriders. We don’t know if either is loyal anymore. You and the Praetorian Umbra were right, though. I’ve become too insulated from some of the actions of my men. We can’t trust some of them anymore.”
Atrarch was silent for a few moments before responding. “I know. Gods go with those lads. We need men like that for what’s coming.”
Johan, after asking Jonvar for directions, knocked on the large black iron door that led to the wing of the Citadel set aside for the Weavers. His palms were sweaty in his gloves, and his heartbeat rose a little. Young Boy Johan took hold of his mind for a sec, his imagination racing. Sir Aldir had a Weaver at his side also. Ilarion, the mighty Weaver who supposedly harnessed the sun itself. Ilarion the Cunning, who once lured a dragon out of its lair and forced it to swear fealty to Aldir. Ilarion the-
“Yes, can we help you?”
Johan snapped back to reality, his boyish moment gone. The door in front of him was open, and a fat, squat, grumpy looking bald man was glaring at him. He was shaped like a turtle standing on its hind legs. One hand was holding the door open, the other was holding a greasy piece of chicken. Johan noticed that the man’s face was unshaven, with chicken grease smeared in the stubble around his mouth.
“Uhhh, I am Outrider Johan Else, I am here to pick up the Weaver attached to my unit?”
Turtle grunted angrily, and then stood aside. “Well don’t just stand there, come in, damn you. And keep it down, you’ve already interrupted my brunch. Stay here. STOP, stand right there. THERE! By the Planes, boy, are you always so pushy!?”
Johan froze mid-step. He had only taken three steps inside the room. If Turtle tried to close the door, Johan would be slammed in it.
“I’m sorry?”
Turtle took a big bite out of the chicken and shrugged, seemingly appeased. “No harm done. Just…just stay right there, I’ll go get Varya.” His eyes suddenly went wide, and he threw both hands up in the air. “DO NOT CALL HER THAT!! Her name is Varvara.” Turtle simply turned his head to the left, facing a hallway. “VARYA! YOU HAVE A MESSENGER FROM THE MECHER’S!!”
“Uh that’s not…”
Turtle’s head snapped around so suddenly to face Johan that spittle from his mouth landed on Johan’s tunic.
“ARROGANT and a BULLY? What a FITTING combination!! And YET you come HERE to ask US to do YOUR work for YOU!!” Turtle began waving his chicken drumstick in the air like a flail. He was literally stamping his feet on the ground to match his emphasis every few words. Part of Johan wanted to laugh, the other part wanted to find medical attention for this round little ball of rage before his heart exploded.
A melodious voice, light and beautiful, came from the hallway.
“Osip, calm yourself dear. I know why the young gentleman is here. Please let him pass.”
The effect on Turtle – Osip, Johan corrected himself, was immediate and profound. He walked over to a little bench on one wall, sat down and started eating his chicken, perfectly contented. He looked up after a few bites.
“Oh, she’ll see you know. Have an excellent day, Commander Else.”
Johan starred at him for a moment. Osip waved him by. Whereas Osip’s room was the dull grey of stone, the hallway Johan walked down was painted a bright white, with windows facing out of the Citadel all along the right side. The white paint coupled with the sunlight made the hallway luminescent. As he walked, Johan also realized that his footsteps were not making sounds. Looking down, he did not see a rug or carpet to absorb the sound. He also noticed that he couldn’t even hear his mail shirt ringing silently as he moved. Did Osip the Turtle deafen him with his drumstick-powered crazy rage?
The grand hallway ended in a room with four smaller hallways branching off from it. There were five enormously sturdy oak chairs in the room arranged in a circle. Two people were sitting. One, who had to be the source of the melodious voice, must have been Varvara. She was a woman of indeterminate age, and to be polite, she was rather on the plump side. But she had a pretty, youthful face, and bright blue eyes. Her dark brown hair was braided and ran down the center of her back. She wore a plain brown dress, with the only adornment being a jeweled amulet clasped around her neck. Sitting across from her, was an enormously fat man, possibly the fattest man Johan had ever seen before. He had short brown hair, dark eyes, and ruddy cheeks. His face was so fat he almost looked like an overgrown baby. His robe was a rich red that matched
his cheeks, and instead of boots he wore large sandals. The two of them must be Weavers, Johan thought. But they were hardly the striking figures he had been anticipating. He had pictured frail, wizened old men and women in robes, or young people in acolyte attire pouring over books. He had hoped to feel some sort of magic sensation in the air. He wanted some sort of…validation for his childhood adulation of Ilarion, he supposed. But instead he had apparently wandered into a weight management meeting. The only thing he noticed that was out of the ordinary was the fat man radiated a scent of cinnamon and apples, which Johan found made him even hungrier. He fought himself to not let his disappointment show on his face.
Both of them stood to greet Johan, but the woman spoke first. Her beautiful voice belied her physical appearance, and felt like a splash of cool water on Johan’s face.
“Ah, you must be Commander Else. Commander Atrarch informed us yesterday of your mission. I am Varvara, representative of the Praetorian Magus here in the Citadel. I help aid in cooperation between the Weavers and any who require our services.”
Johan bowed slightly to her. “Madam, it is an honor to make your acquaintance.”
She gestured to the fat man. “Sir Else, may I introduce you to Leonid. Commander Atrarch and myself both decided that you needed our best man for this mission, and Leonid is our top man in these regards. He is a highly seasoned traveler, and I feel that you will find him invaluable on your mission.”
Johan again appraised Leonid, highly dubious. ‘A highly seasoned traveler’? Leonid’s pale skin seemed to be sweating just from the exertion of standing up. He obviously never missed meals. Was this yet another test from his superiors? He extended a hand.
“A pleasure to have you with us, Leonid. I trust that Miss Varvara and my commander have appraised you on what we have to do?”
Leonid nodded, his husky voice almost shaky with labored breathing. “Of course. I am extremely interested in every aspect of our assignment, and I do look forward to traveling with Outriders. This will be my seventh posting to an Outrider group, so no need to fear me slowing you down. I know I may not look the part, but I actually enjoy traveling. It does a body good, as it were.” He smiled broadly at Johan and grabbed his ample belly with both hands.
Johan hesitated, and opened his mouth to speak, but Leonid spoke first. “No need to trouble yourself about accommodating my needs on this little trip. My horse and the majority of my necessities were sent this morning with the mounts for your men. Whatever else I require I shall carry with me from here.” He then turned and inclined his head towards Varvara. “Well Varya, again I thank you for the meal. You are always such excellent company. And fear not! With the protection of brave Commander Else and his men, expect me to return within a month’s time. If any complications arise, I shall be in touch.” Bending down next to his chair, Leonid picked up a large, bulging travel pack and slung it across his back. He turned back to Johan. “Right then, shall we be off?” Johan barely had time to nod before Leonid was already halfway to the door.
Chapter 4
“Mission Underway”
Ryker was an avid horseman. His grandfather had owned a modest stable when he was a boy, which had led to no shortage of misadventures for him and Johan to undertake. One of the draws of being an Outrider for Ryker was having his own horse. When he and Johan originally enlisted in the Legion, they had both hoped for the cavalry wing of a Legion, but they were both denied. They had enjoyed themselves enough as grunts, but Ryker missed horses badly, and as long as they stayed in their Legion there was no chance of him transferring to cavalry. But Outriders were their own animal, as it were, and the freedom that their organization offered suited Ryker just fine. So it was with great joy that Toma called him outside to meet the men from the Quartermaster. A small baggage train had arrived, and the men were already helping unload it and carry things into the house. Food, requisitioned weapon and armor kits, a small anvil, and numerous other things requested by the Outriders. But that was not what had pleased Ryker so. There were also eight horses being brought behind the house and hitched, with plenty of feed and hay as well. Seven of the horses were fine specimens. Medium sized warhorses bred specifically for the Outriders. Strong enough to carry the armored men with ease, yet quick enough for fast travel and bursts of incredible speed. They were sturdy, dependable, and very easy to handle. Ryker took to them immediately. The eighth horse, however, was something else entirely. A massive draft horse, it stood a two feet taller than the rest. It came already saddled, with two large wooden chests, one brown one painted bright yellow, on either side in place of saddle bags. According to the stable hands that delivered the horses, it was “ornery”. That was putting it mildly, Ryker thought. The horse was openly hostile. It wasn’t bucking or kicking, but it snapped at anyone who came near it. It also refused to stand with the other horses, preferring to stand alone in the yard and glare. This horse’s presence confused Ryker, as they had no need for an extra baggage horse. The whole point of the Outriders was their ability to rapidly deploy within the Dominion. Having a large, slow draft horse with them would defeat the entire point.
After the now-empty wagons had departed, Vegard approached him, the inventory in his hands. Vegard still looked a little ashen-faced from the night before, but the fresh air had seemed to pick him up a bit.
“Here sir. Looks like everything arrived that we asked for. Everyone is getting set up. I had Toma bring the Commander’s things up to his room, but where do you want your stuff?”
Ryker ran a hand through his hair. “Ahh, just leave it on the second floor landing for now. I haven’t really picked a spot yet. My head still feels like a drum.”
“Ugh, I know what you mean. What’s with that giant horse? It looks too big, even for me.”
“Your guess is as good as mine. Our commander must have asked for it, for some reason. Well let’s go check-
“Gentlemen! How are we this fine morning?”
Both Vegard and Ryker turned to see Johan with a massive man at his side rounding the corner of the house. The fat man was panting, and his cheeks were red and his brow glossy with sweat as he struggled to keep up.
“Guess we solved the mystery of the extra horse,” muttered Vegard under his breath.
“No shit. Now I know why it’s so angry,” whispered Ryker. Raising his voice, he addressed the two approaching men. “Morning sir. You’ve missed breakfast, I’m afraid. But I can report that the café across the square makes excellent eggs, and that our barracks is now kitted out, albeit a bit disorganized. And who have we here?”
Johan and Leonid were now next to Vegard and Ryker. Leonid shook their hands as Johan introduced him. “Gentlemen, this is Leonid, a Weaver attached to our unit for the duration of our mission.” At this, both Vegard and Ryker raised their eyebrows and looked at each other. Johan continued on. “I trust you will afford him the respect and courtesy someone of his station deserves. Vegard, go gather up the men in the meeting room, and get some food waiting for me. I have our mission to brief you on. It’s time to earn our coin.”
The Outriders were gathered in the main room of the barracks, with Johan outlining their mission.
“And that, in a nutshell, is our task. A simple ranging, honestly. We’ll get some action when we hit the bandits, but I can’t see them causing us too much trouble. The only extra wrinkle is the addition of our friend here.” Johan gestured to Leonid, who was sitting on a large stool to one side of the group. The men were all sitting in the main room of the barracks, some sitting on chairs, some on their haunches, with Johan and Ryker standing. “Vegard, I was told at the Citadel that the horses came with provision, are they here yet?”
Vegard stood. “Yes sir, they all came saddled up and loaded for a trip.”
Johan nodded. “Good. Then I suggest we leave immediately. Also, since we are going to be pursuing some bandits who may have local eyes and ears, let’s not announce our presence openly yet. Wear your mail and jackets, but remove their sigils
. You have five minutes. Let’s get to it.”
The men all stood and saluted before scattering, moving quickly. Ryker and Leonid remained behind. Ryker gave Leonid a sideways look before speaking.
“We need a cover story if we are pressed for our identities.”
“Leonid and I thought about that on the way here. We have that part covered. But if we do our jobs right, we won’t need to have any excuse.”
“Okay. Any more info on this person we are supposed to meet in Oberon?”
“None. I didn’t get a name.”
“Well that’s just great, isn’t it? How the hells are we supposed to find this guy? Oberon may be called a little forest village by the city folk, but it’s still got like…I dunno, a thousand or so people!”
“I know, I know. I should have asked more questions. But honestly Ryker, I didn’t even feel like I was really there, if you get my meaning. The whole meeting was a little…surreal. I, on the first day of command, am summoned to meet two of the most powerful men in The City, who personally entrust me with a secret mission? While nursing a massive hangover that they paid for? The whole thing seems so strange. Why us? There are thirty other Outrider units to call on, some much closer to the forest.”
Leonid slid is large posterior off the stool, and slowly waddled over to them.
“If I may add a little insight? From what I’ve been told on my end, it sounds to me like your superiors want a fresh unit that they can count on to be loyal. There seems to be a sense of unease between The Citadel and some elements of the Outriders.”
The Outrider Legion: Book One Page 6
