Toward the Black Forest (2)
The legion stayed in Belanga for two days. Despite the barbarians occupying the surrounding area and running rampant, the city still brimmed with vitality.
I notified the market overseer that the legion would soon depart. At the same time, I asked him to introduce merchants who could help us dispose of the women and goods we'd brought.
He gladly accepted our requests, grinning from ear to ear.
While merchants came and went through our camp, I gathered the centurions and discussed our next plans with cool heads.
"The Thunder Tribe has plenty of men with experience serving in the imperial army, and even quite a few born in the empire. They'll know how to mimic nearly every basic legion tactic."
That was our main concern.
"And you—letting these merchants swarm in and out like that? Our movements are bound to leak to the enemy. Wasn't that a risky move?"
Most of the centurions nodded in agreement.
I explained myself.
"Of course it was deliberate. Long ago, one of my old commanders—a battalion commander named Kandudal—had a massive barbarian tribe in his jurisdiction. Their name's lost to history now, but they caused trouble constantly.
With over six thousand warriors, they weren't easy to handle from a battalion commander's perspective. Do you know how he dealt with them?"
The men pondered for a moment.
I continued before they could figure it out.
"Every first of the month, Kandudal would march his soldiers out of the border fortress where the barbarians could see them clearly.
Then he'd loop them around and bring them back in through the same gate. The barbarians thought he'd called in a full legion and got scared stiff. They didn't dare cross the legion border again until that incident a few years back."
"So, deception. It'll work best if we make sure they get a good, clear look."
Rubiot caught my drift.
"Exactly. I want them to know our movements precisely—when and where we're marching, and what our target is."
"But if our plans are that exposed, won't we walk into an ambush?"
"They could try. But would they charge straight at us if we make it look like our army's ten times bigger?"
The centurions' eyes widened at my words.
Ten times.
Our legion of just 2,500 men, multiplied tenfold, made 25,000.
Imperial history had seen such massive armies only a handful of times. Even the barbarians had rarely witnessed anything like it.
That number—that sheer presence of such a host—held the power to overwhelm and suffocate the enemy on its own.
"We'll disguise the legion as an army of over twenty thousand. Think we can pull it off?"
"Just tweak Kandudal's method a bit. It's doable."
"If they buy it, they'll have to play it cautious. I'm in favor."
"We'll do it your way, Centurion Ain."
Most of the officers approved.
I turned to the commander of the 11th Cavalry, who had been silently observing.
"What do you think, Commander Jarumal?"
"Even with the ruse, they're cavalry. It'll unravel soon enough."
"You're right. That moment will likely be our toughest hurdle. But the key to this fight is how close we get to the Thunder Tribe's heartland.
The nearer we bring our spear tip to their core, the more they'll prioritize action over caution. They might abandon their villages and flee, but after Heigirt's march south to challenge the emperor, that would cost him too much face. He can't afford it.
If this bluff buys us just two days, I have full confidence we can beat them."
Only then did conviction light up the officers' faces.
I looked around at my comrades and stood.
"Then let's go grab that lion's tail—Heigirt's. The legion triumphs!"
"Glory to the 16th Legion!"
We shouted our victory cry and dispersed to our posts. It was time to hunt the lion cubs.
After an early breakfast, I assembled the legion in the square. Citizens and merchants emerged one by one, drawn by the unexpected spectacle.
I handed the legion standard to Rikius, drew my sword, and pointed it at the gates.
"Eagles of the 16th Legion! Today, we bring justice to the bandits who ravage the empire and defy order. In the legion's name, show the empire's might. Infantry, advance!"
"16th Leeeegion! Advance!"
Rikius bellowed my order. Soldiers gripped shields in one hand, swords and spears or standards in the other, marching in perfect formation.
I watched with satisfaction.
Soon came the archers with bows slung over their shoulders, then the quartermaster troops laden with supply wagons, and finally the cavalry, all filing past in order. The endless procession drew fresh awe from the crowd at the imperial army's splendor.
Then the first soldiers out the gate looped around the walls and reentered through the opposite one, reappearing in the square—this time carrying standards mimicking those of the 11th Legion, prepared in advance.
The troops circled the square repeatedly, but the onlookers had no idea. They just assumed more units were passing. By those numbers, our force seemed boundless—well over ten thousand.
I unveiled the legion standards we'd crafted overnight, one after another. Fakes, sure, but the civilians couldn't tell.
I projected utter confidence that this war would end on our terms. With those numbers, it didn't look like a lie.
Amid the crowd's cheers, we departed Belanga. Our masterful bluff and staging had transformed us in their minds into a host of tens of thousands. The watchful barbarians would hear the same.
Fall for it, hook, line, and sinker.
I mounted a splendid white steed bought in the city for the show and brought up the rear.
"Everyone's looking at us like victory's a sure thing."
Rikius grinned.
I chuckled back.
"An imperial army of over twenty thousand? They'd have to believe it. The barbarians will too. At least for two days, they'll be too spooked to make a move."
"Does Heigirt know we're heading north?"
"He'd have to. He won't take his eyes off his home base."
That was my biggest worry. Heigirt alone was terrifying.
For a barbarian, his charisma to command tens of thousands, his endless stream of tactics that crushed imperial forces—it was horrifying.
A head-on clash with him was unthinkable until we stacked the odds heavily in our favor.
"Still, the distance buys us time. Round trip considered, he won't get a real read on things here for a week."
"Exactly. Unless he plans a week ahead—which he won't—he's no factor in this fight."
I stated it firmly, reassuring myself.
Rikius smiled.
He'd been concerned too.
We hoped Heigirt lacked that foresight. Imagining otherwise was too grim.
The legion marched from Belanga at forty kilometers a day. Three days to reach the northeastern border line.
Along the way, we passed border fortresses abandoned by the 11th Legion and farmlands teeming with barbarians.
Anpianus—that imperial traitor—had flung open most of his border, letting them swarm in unchecked.
I had the 11th Cavalry torch the fields sporadically. Crops sown by imperial slaves and peasants in blood and sweat went up in flames. We razed villages, filled wells.
Barbarians squatting on our soil? Captured and handed to our camp followers as slaves.
Brutal, merciless acts. But we were weak, so we had to be cruel. Mercy is for the strong. We weren't strong enough for mercy.
Our harshness screamed: We won't tolerate the broken order. Stop us with steel and arrows alone.
No compromise.
They got the message—no envoys in three days of advance.
Then we reached the border's edge, as held in the 11th Legion's steadier days.
The world's end.
We halted briefly before the milestone marking the empire's frontier.
Beyond lay desolate swamps and vast forests—an unknown world that had yielded us scant intelligence.
Hundreds of years ago, golden age legions had marched there. None since.
At the empire's edge, we steadied ourselves.
"Carus's lost legion. The black eagle that never returned."
I scowled at the 7th Legion standard—one of those that crossed the golden age border and vanished.
Carus, a senator who became northern Persia garrison commander in his thirties, favored by the three great emperors.
He'd risen on his emperor father-in-law's name, but talent hadn't matched his ascent.
Deceived by cunning barbarians, he turned tens of thousands of imperial troops into headless corpses. Three standards fell into their hands: 4th, 6th, and 7th Legions.
Two were reclaimed over centuries of war. This one never was. And there it stood before us.
"Just one enemy."
"Yeah."
"Scouts?"
Rubiot said.
"No. This is a battle of nerves."
The enemy flaunted our past ghosts, our humiliation—to boast we'd never conquer from here. A warning, dredging old fears: stay out.
Like a dog growling at what scares it.
I sent Rikius forward to speak.
"Playing petty tricks? Afraid of us?"
No reply from the enemy soldier. Instead, faint neighing echoed from the forest. Cavalry.
"A light greeting. Shields up."
Soldiers snapped to testudo as arrows rained down.
After the volley, when we looked up, the enemy was gone without a trace.
I pondered.
"What's their game? Show the lost standard to spook us, loose arrows, then vanish?"
"Provocation. Normally, fear makes you lash out. Arrows flying, reflexes kick in."
"But they know we won't bite that easy."
"Of course."
I agreed with Rubiot. The enemy wasn't simple or stupid. Wary of our bluff perhaps, but seasoned, probing us coolly.
Underestimating them was suicide.
"We could hit now, catch them off guard. They might want us hesitating."
"But we know too little of that terrain. Even if opportunity knocks, play it cautious. Initiative's still ours. Jarumal!"
"Yes, commander."
"Your cavalry takes point."
"Gladly. We'll lead the legion."
Jarumal saluted lightly, wheeled his horse, and vanished toward his men.
11th Cavalry up front? They'd think us aggressive. Let them chew on that.
I nudged my horse's flanks.
"Advance for now. Can't dawdle like we're scared, whatever their intent. Slow and steady—but deliberate enough to press them."
"I'll relay the order."
Rubiot wheeled away.
I gave Rikius the standard and crossed the column.
Thus, the legion stepped into the barbarians' world—even golden age legions hadn't taken lightly.
(To be continued)