Betrayal (1)
The next day, at the legion meeting, I dropped a bombshell.
"I've decided to meet those bandit bastards plundering the strait tomorrow—in person."
"Ain! That's too dangerous."
"Meet the bandits?"
The centurions tried to talk me out of it.
The strait bandits were on another level from your run-of-the-mill thieves—peasants fleeing taxes and exploitation into the hills. These were a massive organization formed by barbarian wolves crossing the border and corrupt imperial deserters.
They operated under a military-like structure with their own order. Nothing laughable about their power.
They had over fifty ships plying both shores of the strait, and more than two thousand members. Most were battle-hardened deserters or wolf tribesmen, making their combat strength formidable.
The governors of the provinces with stakes in the strait hesitated to crush them outright because of that sheer size. Sure, bribes played a big part too.
I explained to my comrades why we needed to talk to the bandits.
"The legion's already too small. Even if those bastards leave Belanga alone, most of the Bratt region is in enemy hands. If things solidify like this, the barbarians will swarm in en masse soon enough, turning Bratt into their land.
"And that'd just be the start. We've scared them off a bit with our bluster, but the empire's northern defenses have collapsed entirely. With the border legions and field armies gone, the barbarians can plant their asses on imperial soil anytime they want.
"To stop that, we need to rebuild our strength fast, drive them back, and show the barbarians the legion's might."
"But those are rough types. Deserters who hate the imperial army, barbarians mad for profit. How do you plan to convince them?"
"Threats."
"Threats, huh. You got something solid in mind?"
"Of course. Do I look like the type to charge in without a plan?"
My comrades mulled it over, then nodded reluctantly.
"Fine. We'll back you. But take Rikius and Boruman at least. We won't rest easy otherwise."
"Done."
I shook hands firmly with my comrades. They knew this might be a one-way trip.
Still, they let me go because everyone knew how dire the situation was.
That morning, leaving Belanga, Briginsa's daughter unexpectedly showed up to see me off.
I paused, surprised.
"What brings you here?"
"Reasons aside, you're our protector. Just came to say one thing."
"Shoot."
"Don't die out there. Come back alive. Your head's ours—mine and Father's—to cut off."
Her bold declaration made me chuckle.
"Right. Noble princess of the Thunder Tribe. I'll keep my head on tight and return as ordered. And when I do, I'll spank you for that mouth of yours as a lesson."
She huffed and turned away.
We laughed heartily as we set off from the city.
The rowers shouted "Huzzah!" and pulled hard. Rikius wandered about seasick, finally puking in a corner—otherwise uneventful.
I laid the half-conscious Rikius at the stern and asked Boruman,
"You're from the 11th Legion, so you've heard about these strait bandits. Know anything about their boss?"
"Rumors, yeah. They say after Battalion Commander Kalliope, in charge of strait patrols, deserted with his men, he's been running the show."
"Strait patrol commander as bandit king."
I couldn't help laughing.
No wonder the empire was doomed. A high officer ditching his duty to prey on the very people he was supposed to protect. If that wasn't the end times, what was?
We rowed on until thick white fog rolled in. The rowers quickly tied up the boat.
Lighting lanterns helped a bit.
But no opposite shore appeared after ages. I felt deflated. Ships crossing supposedly got hit every ten cheon. Fog hiding us?
We stood at the rocking rail, waiting for something.
Soon, a faint light flickered afar.
"Lighthouse."
The rowers sighed in relief and rowed toward it.
As the boat followed slowly, Rikius shook himself up.
"Better?"
"Yeah. Puked it all out."
His face was still pale.
"Lion on land, can't catch a herring at sea."
I laughed, slapping his shoulder.
Boruman chuckled too.
By then, land neared. But the fog-revealed shore looked off. Our target was a flat bay harbor opposite.
This was steep cliffs.
Boruman caught on.
"Lighthouse. They're luring us to their lair."
"Not a single ship or man lost to the sea. Smart way to bandit."
I laughed in disbelief.
Patrol commander as boss—efficient system for crime, apparently.
As we neared the cliff, a deep cave yawned. To test, I had rowers backpaddle. Archers appeared above, arrows trained on us.
"Stay put. Glide into the cave slow. Or we make you a pincushion."
One archer barked.
No choice—we entered as ordered.
The cave held small boats with odd numbers docked.
As we disembarked, armed thugs approached.
"Hey, imperial army trash. Here for the coastal patrol partnership?"
They snickered.
I watched, then snatched a sword from one, pressing it to his throat. Meanwhile, Boruman and Rikius subdued two others, taking their weapons.
The bandits stiffened, sensing trouble.
"As you saw, we're imperial army. Not deserters, not unlucky captures. I came here looking for you from the start.
"I'm Ain. Proxy legion commander of the 16th, last eagle holding the northern frontier. I want to see your boss."
Revealing myself flustered them. They conferred, weapons still on us, telling us to wait. A proxy legion commander wasn't small fry.
How much time passed?
A gaunt, irritable middle-aged man descended a ladder from above. Slim build, but eyes radiating veteran aura.
His men bowed as he appeared.
He scanned slowly, eyes settling on me.
"You're the imperial proxy legion commander come to see me?"
"Yes."
"Hah. Interesting. Never thought I'd see an imperial commander walk in unarmed. Got guts—I like it. Ain, imperial commander. For old army ties, names: Kalliope. Head bandit here."
He puffed his shoulders.
Kalliope had been a star officer in the imperial army. Unrivaled coastal defense talent; his unit racked up kills.
But that was it.
The capital ignored minor frontier wins. Provincial authorities didn't care if no raids hit today.
His 18th Legion commander and brass ignored too. Focused on border graft, not coasts.
Ignored and sidelined, Kalliope and men grew weary. No replacements for dead, supplies cut. Foes strengthened; they weakened.
Kalliope confronted the governor for catapult funds, ships, men.
Governor issued expulsion for bypassing protocol.
Enraged, Kalliope pissed on his house in protest. Punishment swift: flogging for dishonor, legion reprimand.
Disillusioned with empire and army, he and loyalists deserted. The worthless empire became prime 'business' turf.
I listened silently, arms crossed.
"World's rotten, empire corrupt everywhere. I know better, crisscrossing frontiers in battle."
"Then why stay loyal? To a crumbling heap?"
"It's the only world we know. We warriors might thrive under barbarians. But our women, children—in their brutal world?"
"Tough, sure. Better than rotting here with no future."
"Really? You'd be wrong about barbarians. They crave women and land greedily.
"Living in their world means losing that much. Empire doesn't demand so much, does it?"
"Not directly, but indirectly through taxes and rot."
"Fair point. Still, we're empire eagles. Guard the walls with hope tomorrow improves—even if today sucks.
"If we can't change it, give the next generation time. That's my belief."
"Faith in the future. Naive for these dark times."
"Yeah. Learned from the greenhorn commander I served. Humans grow from flaws. Even careerists eventually prioritize honor, duty. If old dogs can, kids sure can. I believe that."
"Your story?"
I nodded silently.
Kalliope smirked wryly.
"Model soldier in end times. Not bad. Might've thought different meeting you sooner. But humans change. I was dutiful once; now realist bandit. Can't go back."
"Can't you?"
He clasped hands behind.
"Your words stir me a bit. Got greenhorns not fully bandit yet. Take 'em if you want—they're not like us."
"Pity?"
"Nah. Lingering soldier conscience. Hate letting a dutiful man walk."
Kalliope turned, summoning men to escort us to the newbies.
Up the cave ladder: a quaint village with all ages mingling.
His man told us wait, gathered villagers.
Soon, hundreds of sturdy men assembled.
He brought them, calling them unfledged chicks.
I scanned them slowly, then spoke.
(To be continued)