Lost Legio IX: The Karus Saga

by Marc Alan Edelheit

  “I know that,” Dio said. “Karus, the men love you, especially after you held the legion together against the Celts. In their eyes, you can do no wrong. It’s her they are concerned with. Think about how it looks. We find only one person in this entire city and she’s a prisoner. No one knows why she was imprisoned. Next thing, she is your guest, living in the palace alongside you and secluded from view. The circumstances she was found under are mysterious. We have been transported to a strange land, empty of people, with two unfamiliar suns, an odd-looking moon, and stars that don’t match our own. Add to that, sickness is running through the cohorts and followers. People are scared, and trouble may come of taking her out into the city.”

  Karus turned a sour look on Dio. “Then they will see her. That will help put these rumors,” Karus said the word as if it were distasteful, “to rest. She is flesh and blood. Nothing more. She has nothing to do with anything. By the gods, they will see her.”

  “That’s what I am afraid of,” Dio hissed. “Taking her out into the city is a bad idea, especially now with the sickness. The legion’s been through a lot lately. We need to find a better way to handle this, to introduce her so that she is accepted.”

  “My mind is made up,” Karus said, tone becoming hard. “She offered to show me the temple district. I would learn more about their gods and, through them, her people.”

  “Her people,” Dio scoffed, becoming heated, “where are they? Certainly not here. What do they matter now?”

  “Everything,” Karus said. “I’ve heard enough. Our people will see her one way or another. They will adjust. It is that simple.”

  Dio looked as if he wanted to argue, but clamped his jaw shut as Amarra descended the last few steps and approached, her escort trailing.

  “Karus, Dio,” she said, bowing her head slightly. “I believe you say, uhm … greetings.”

  “Amarra,” Karus said, switching to her language, at which he was still a poor speaker. “Good morning.”

  She gave him a faint smile, and Karus felt his heart warm slightly.

  “Will you excuse me?” Dio said stiffly, declining to return Amarra’s greeting. Without waiting for permission, he stalked angrily off in the direction of the palace.

  Karus noticed Amarra’s brow furrow slightly as she watched him go. Karus let out a soft breath. He would have to speak to Dio later and make things right. He glanced over at Ipax, wondering what the optio thought of Amarra. Did he consider her a threat? Bad luck? The optio’s face was an inscrutable mask. Karus was sure he had heard everything that had transpired, as had his men. They scrupulously avoided Karus’s gaze. So be it, thought Karus as he beckoned Optio Ternus over, who was in command of Amarra’s guard this day.

  “Sir?” The optio straightened to a position of attention.

  “You and your men are dismissed,” Karus said. “Ipax here can manage.”

  “Yes, sir,” Ternus said. “When will you return?”

  “I expect to be back in four or five hours,” Karus said. “You may resume your duties then.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Ternus said. Karus thought he saw the optio flash a smirk at Ipax before forming his men up and marching away. Ipax showed no reaction, as would Karus had he been in the other’s sandals.

  “I am looking forward to the tour of the temple district,” Karus said, switching back to Latin. She had proposed this excursion last evening, and at the time, Karus had thought it a good idea. The more he learned about this land, including the people’s beliefs, the better. Having heard Dio out, he now questioned that decision, though only a little.

  “It will be my fun,” she said, though she appeared a little nervous, or perhaps simply ill at ease. Karus chalked that up to having been confined, first in the dungeon and then in the palace for so long. She had spent very little time out and about. Whenever she had, it had been closely supervised and limited to the palace gardens.

  “Pleasure,” Karus corrected. They began walking toward the gate. Ipax snapped out an order, and Karus’s escort formed up behind them into a double line of four each.

  Eighth Cohort was using the parade ground. It was one of the largest open spaces in the city and perfect for formation drill. Centurion Arrens stood to the side with another centurion, critically watching as his cohort began to move through the drill. Karus noted Amarra’s eyes on the Eighth as they maneuvered smartly from a marching column into a battle line six deep.

  “Yesterday,” Karus said, drawing her attention away from the Eighth, “we spoke of your people and why they left the city. You said they fled. Why?”

  “Yes,” she said, eyeing him with what he thought might be guarded caution. “They leave, fled, you say.”

  “It was not sickness then,” he said, wishing to confirm that yet again. Ampelius had stopped by a short while before. Dio’s words and what Ampelius had told him had it at the front of his mind. The sickness was spreading at an alarming rate, and if it continued, the surgeon assured him a quarter of his men would be down, ill within a week. More after that. Worse, several of those who had been stricken first had died, with only a handful managing to recover.

  “Sickness?” she asked in her thick accent.

  Karus made an exaggerated coughing sound.

  “Ah,” she said with a shake of her head, “no, no sickness.”

  Amarra said something further in her own language, which he did not understand. He must have frowned, for she tried again. A look of frustration furrowed her brow. Then, she snapped her fingers, face lighting up.

  “Orc,” she said, “many orc. That right word? Yes? Many.”

  Karus stopped in his tracks just before the gate and turned to her in astonishment, pieces of the puzzle finally sliding into place. “Are you saying that the people of your city left because orcs are coming?”

  She paused a moment, as though thinking through what he had just said, mentally translating Karus’s words. Amarra pointed at him. “Soldier just like you. Many orc come … ” She made a funny screwed-up face as she struggled and said that strange word again, scowling, then seemed to settle for another word. “Come, they come.”

  “Here?” Karus asked, alarmed, and pointed at the ground. “They are coming here?”

  “Yes,” she said with a firm nod and a pleased expression. “I pray to god, High Father, for help. He show me you, not Dvergr.” She pointed at the legionaries acting as their escort. “And you and you and you. Dvergr, they no help, no friend.”

  Karus wasn’t sure what Dvergr meant in her language, but he rocked back on his heels, stunned at what he had just learned. The people of this city—no, of the entire region—were fleeing over the creatures. More incredible, she believed that the Ninth had been sent by her god, the High Father. Karus did not like the sound of that.

  His thoughts trailed back to Felix and his comment on the price the gods would extract for their deliverance. Was this it? He hoped not. How could one legion stop what so many were fleeing? Surely the people of Carthum had an army, a professional military force beyond the city guard? The walls of this city were strong and sound. He had seen the captured standards in the great hall, the martial images in the colored glass. They bore mute evidence to this city’s military prowess. Besides, a city as large as Carthum would have plenty of young men to call into service. It made no sense to flee from such a defensible position.

  Karus rubbed at his jaw and considered canceling their visit into the city. He was so alarmed that he thought of immediately calling for Felix and Dio to get their thoughts. Then, with a glance to Amarra and her eager look, he changed his mind.

  Karus had learned over the years not to overreact. There was no immediate threat on the doorstep of the city and hence no emergency. Valens was out there. He trusted his cavalry commander to spot any threat long before it neared Carthum. He should have some warning in advance. The key there was should.

  He would have to alert Valens though. The next dispatch rider was due to leave tomorrow morning. With him, Karus
would send word of what he had learned. When he returned from seeing the temples, Karus would solicit Dio and Felix’s opinion on the matter and then write his dispatch to Valens.

  “We go? Now? I show you High Father’s temple,” she said, eyes shining with excitement.

  “So,” Karus said to confirm what she had said as they resumed walking toward the gate, “an army of orcs is coming, here?”

  “Army?” She seemed confused by the word.

  “Me and my men,” Karus gestured wide with both arms encompassing the area around him and then pointed at the sentries standing before the gate and the cohort drilling. “Army.”

  “Ah,” she said, with sudden understanding. “You army … yes, orc army, man army coming. People leave, hurry.”

  “That must be some army, sir,” Ipax commented from behind. “To get an entire people to up and flee, to leave the protection of these stout walls.”

  Karus glanced over at the optio, forgetting he and his men had been within earshot and listening.

  “Yes,” Karus said, suddenly conscious again of his escort. He could tell the men were hanging on every word, “but I bet they didn’t have legionaries manning the walls.”

  The men of the escort abruptly let out a hearty cheer. Amarra jumped and a few nearby people glanced their way, including the guard at the gate.

  “Karus,” a voice called from behind. Tribune Delvaris was hustling up. “I understand from Felix you will be visiting the temple district?”

  “That’s right,” Karus said, stopping. Amarra and the escort came to a halt also.

  “Might I accompany you both into the city?” Delvaris looked eager. “I would be interested in seeing the temples.” He paused and suddenly gave a sheepish shrug. “I’ve been locked up in the palace with the clerks these last few days. If I don’t get out, I think I will go mad. It’s really an excuse to stretch my legs.”

  “I’m not one for ledgers and accounting either, sir,” Ipax said to Delvaris. “I’d rather be on my feet and out and about. Exercise is good for the constitution, sir.”

  “Very well,” Karus said, somewhat amused. Ipax was a taciturn type and Karus thought that last might be the most he ever heard the man say at one time. With a shake of his head, he started forward once again.

  The optio on duty at the palace gate called his men to attention as the party passed. Karus’s thoughts quickly returned to the orcs. It had always been a possibility that the legion might have to leave the city sooner than desired. But now, Karus suspected that time was fast approaching.

  Where could they go?

  Karus glanced over at Amarra and wondered where her people had gone. It was clear the people of Carthum had fled west. Scouts had seen other peoples—small groups, really—moving in the same direction too. Was there a refuge to the west? Allies to be gained? Perhaps he could find a safe harbor out there, somewhere they could go, at least long enough for him to learn of a path that would take him back to Rome.

  Karus’s thoughts remained turbulent as they worked their way down the street, passing civilians, who moved aside to make way.

  People stopped what they were doing to watch Karus and his party pass. Amarra was their focus. Some of the looks were downright hostile, angry even. Keeping hold of his temper, Karus had to remind himself that his men and the followers were still scared. They had settled in rapidly enough, but there was still the fear of the unknown and what the future held. The sickness was not helping either. When people were afraid, they looked for someone to blame. That had clearly become Amarra. Perhaps, reflected Karus, this had been a mistake. Dio may have been right.

  “Witch! Dirty whoring witch!”

  Karus spun angrily around. His escort ground to a halt. Karus scanned the street but could not identify who had shouted. There were just too many people about.

  Amarra rested a hand upon his arm.

  “It be fine,” she said to him. “I been called badder.”

  Karus looked into her eyes. He found them filled with a deep hurt mixed with a terrible sadness, of which he understood so little. It pained him that she was hurting so.

  “I can see if I can find the offender, sir,” Ipax said, though, by his tone, he sounded doubtful that any search would prove fruitful.

  Karus, already angry, turned it upon himself for not listening to Dio’s council. He balled his fists.

  “No,” Karus said, unclenching.

  “It might be wise to return, sir.”

  “No,” Karus said. To return to the palace now would undoubtedly be wise, but it would demonstrate weakness. Karus could not afford to be viewed as weak. “We continue on.”

  “Of course, sir.”

  A century of men turned a corner and began marching up the street toward them as they started forward. Karus recognized Pulmonus to the side of the formation. He held up a hand to stop them.

  “Halt,” Pulmonus grated, and the century came to a stop.

  Pulmonus snapped off a salute, which Karus returned.

  “Stand easy,” Karus called to the century. As the men relaxed, he noted how more than a few eyes darted toward Amarra.

  “How are your men settling in?” Karus asked him.

  “All right, sir,” Pulmonus said. “We’ve taken a home a few streets over. It’s a little too plush for the likes of these maggots, but better than no roof over our heads.”

  “Good then?”

  “Fine, sir,” Pulmonus said, glancing over his formation with obvious pride. “We’ve got plenty of food. What with stomachs full, it’s just like being back in Eboracum, but less crowded and without the cold, mud, rain, and fog, sir. Can’t say I’m missing Britannia much.”

  Karus chuckled, as did a number of the men.

  “Now that there are drinking establishments,” Pulmonus continued, “and a regular liquid ration, I’ve got relatively happy boys.”

  “Good to hear,” Karus responded, looking over the legionaries, who appeared fresh, their armor clean of both rust and dirt. It was a far sight from how they looked just a few weeks ago. Then they had been muddy, hungry, and tired. “Where are you off to?”

  “Drill and training, sir,” Pulmonus replied with no little amount of gusto. “We hit the posts first for sword drill, then some formation work with the rest of our cohort, and finally,” the centurion paused and looked back over at his men with an evil smile, “we will have a good run, sir.” There were several groans at that and for good reason. Pulmonus was well known for his fondness of jogging in full kit and forcing his men to do the same. “Busy boys are happy boys, sir. I expect a good day of it.”

  “Very well,” Karus said, well pleased with the centurion’s attitude. Training was a regular part of a legionary’s life. Now that Karus had seen it reinstituted, he had hoped it would bring back a sense of some normalcy. Judging from the looks of Pulmonus’s men, Amarra was unintentionally undermining that effort. “Carry on, then.”

  “Century,” Pulmonus called after offering Karus a parting salute, “forwaarrd maaarch!”

  Pulmonus’s cohort resumed their march. Karus watched them pass, very pleased with their look and attitude, though he continued to notice a few concerned glances thrown Amarra’s way. It troubled him. He would have to do something to diffuse the situation before it became worse. The problem was, Karus just did not know what he could do to fix it. Perhaps Dio or Felix would have some thoughts.

  Farther up the street, Karus came across a woodworking shop. Several wagons were lined up out front, all in various states of assembly. There were both legionaries and civilians working on them. The staccato of hammering and sawing filled the air. The scene was one of chaos, but Karus had long since learned that such things were often deceiving. He was sure there was a system to the madness.

  Across the street, several finished wagons were parked, awaiting removal to an open space near the palace gate that Felix had settled on as a collection point. The sight of the wagons brought Karus back to his concerns about having to leave the city
before they were ready. He did not know how he was going to pull off getting the Ninth home. Keeping her intact was proving a tough enough job as it was.

  There was an abrupt whooshing sound overhead. Karus and everyone else looked up. A gray shape flashed by, one of the dragons skimming the rooftops. In less time than it took to register what it was, the dragon was gone and out of view.

  Karus shook his head as he glanced around. No one on the street had shown any terror or fright at the fearsome creature’s passage, only curiosity. After a moment, they simply returned to what they had been doing. The red, green, and now a gray dragon had been flying over the city for days now. So far, they had shown absolutely no interest in the Romans. Four weeks ago, a dragon would have been an impossible thing, a creature from myth and tale. Now they were a common sight. Karus was about to start forward. Then, he spied Amarra and the look of shock and horror sketched across her face. A cold feeling slithered down his spine.

  “You’ve not seen a dragon before?”

  She shook her head an emphatic no.

  For a moment, Karus wondered how she had not yet managed to see one, as they were always over the city. Then he understood. Under guard, she had spent limited time outdoors, and generally those precious few hours as Karus’s companion. He could not once recall seeing a dragon while in her company. Karus’s eyes narrowed. She had grown up in this land. Why had she not seen a dragon before?

  Since the legion’s arrival, the dragons had been ever-present companions, randomly appearing and troubling no one. Karus, along with everyone else, had begun taking them for granted as having been normal animals of these parts, like deer were common to the forests of Gaul. Studying her now, Karus realized the mistake he had made. Much like the legion, the dragons were recent arrivals too.

  What did they mean?

  “Try not to worry about them,” Karus told her, though he was now very much worried. “They’ve been around for days and they’ve not hurt anyone.”

  She swallowed and then nodded, but looked far from convinced.