Betrayal (Part 2)
The legion steadily rebuilt its strength. We incorporated bandits into our ranks and bought slaves with legion funds to swell our numbers. Through tireless efforts, we surpassed 2,200 men.
On top of that, Governor Rabirando of East Libitus—late as he was—sent over 2,000 men, securing more than 4,000 troops for the first time since Cassius took command.
The training was insufficient, but the numbers were satisfying enough.
I spent my days rigorously drilling the new recruits and preparing optimal armament to counter barbarian cavalry. There was no room to rest if we were to drive out the barbarians before winter at the latest.
While we threw ourselves into feverish war preparations, Griham wasn't idle either. Ten barbarian settlements had sprung up around Belanga, and vast pastures spanning hundreds of acres were laid out for the enemy's cavalry.
The foe was meticulously preparing to repel us.
But we were determined to fight with our lives on the line and push them beyond the border.
After about a month of nonstop preparations day and night, an envoy arrived from the south. His attire was more splendid than any herald we'd met the day before.
We only guessed his identity from the banner he carried.
The envoy of Emperor Baccus himself!
The emissary dispatched personally by Emperor Baccus bore an imperial letter.
I prostrated myself and received it.
As I read it, the centurions assumed it announced a new force from the imperial heartland had routed Heigirt, or perhaps praised our battles.
But the contents were utterly remote from our imaginings.
A dizzying vertigo swept through my mind. What the hell had we been fighting for?
I felt the letter slip from my hand.
"What orders does His Majesty issue?"
The centurions pressed for an answer.
I stared blankly at the sky.
Impatient Rubiot snatched up the letter. He scanned it, then crumpled the imperial missive in defiance.
"Baccus! How dare the Emperor of the Empire—!"
He spat curses at the emperor in fury.
For a man who'd crossed perilous fronts and stared death in the face for the empire, his rage was justified.
I hereby issue the following edict to resolve the unprecedented crisis at the empire's borders and clear the misunderstandings and conflicts between King Heigirt of the Thunder Tribe and the legions.
One. The nearly vacant territories under the 11th and 12th Legions shall be granted as fief to King Heigirt, that he may defend the empire's vulnerable frontiers in our stead.
Two. The legions bear full responsibility for the clashes with Heigirt. The instigation of the traitor Anpianus and the overly sensitive, unwise handling by 12th Legion Commander Cassius escalated matters, turning Heigirt into our enemy. All blame falls on the two legion commanders, absolving Heigirt of any fault for being compelled to oppose the empire.
Three. As the Thunder Tribe now guards the northern borders on the empire's behalf, the gold previously allocated as support for the 11th and 12th Legions shall be sent to Heigirt.
Four. Heigirt's official position within the empire shall be Commander of the Bratruria District, with honors befitting the highest allied monarch.
Five. All of Heigirt's kin and tribesmen captured by the empire shall be returned to him.
Six. For merits in suppressing disturbances by certain barbarian tribes at the border, Acting Legion Commander Ain shall be formally appointed Legion Commander.
Mad bastards.
In short, Baccus was carving up imperial territory to gift to Heigirt, and on top of that, handing him a legion commander's post. Naturally, including funds to maintain an army that could turn on us.
Returning prisoners was common enough, but the rest was on another level.
It was tantamount to surrender.
Had the empire ever signed such a humiliating armistice since its founding?
We'd abandoned land before when defense failed, but never gifted territory, gold, and titles while tarnishing our legions' name to exalt the enemy.
Legion commander promotion? Who could care about that amid this?
Fists trembled in shame and fury. Some shed thick tears. To these proud men who'd guarded the empire, this order was a death sentence stripping their dignity.
"Ain."
Rubiot called me.
"Yeah."
"Has the emperor betrayed us?"
I bowed my head low.
"Just a bit more fighting, and we could've driven out Heigirt's minions. Cut off his rear, threaten his tribe, and he'd have no choice but to retreat. But why?!"
I gripped the arm of the man venting his rage.
"Because Heigirt's smarter than our emperor. He knew from the start he couldn't swallow the empire in one bite."
I closed my eyes.
The insane fury made tears threaten; it was hard to keep them open.
"Ain. Rebel instead. Become emperor yourself. Our emperor. Change the world for us."
Rubiot said. The other centurions watched me.
I shook my head. Suppressed emotion trembled in my voice.
"I—and we—are loyal to the empire. Our eagles are the empire's walls and guardians. We are the steadfast shields enduring in place. Don't forget. We are the legion."
A faint sob laced my final words.
"Ain!"
Tears fell from all eyes.
On the day the infuriating, heartbreaking imperial letter arrived.
Despite our valiant fights, we couldn't stop the empire's blood.
Clutching aching hearts, we knelt. The eagles who never bowed now hung their heads.
The humiliating armistice's ripples were vast. Perhaps the emperor sought time to fortify borders and rebuild field armies by placating Heigirt, but this was no way to do it.
In that disgrace, I saw the empire crumbling tomorrow.
And my premonition proved true.
"We can no longer serve the incompetent Baccus as emperor!"
Our legionaries erupted in rage at the emperor's decision. As citizens, they held veto rights and could openly oppose imperial policy. Before soldiers, they were imperial citizens, entitled to voice opinions to the emperor who decided for citizens and Senate.
But open legion uprising was mutiny. I urgently summoned quartermaster Riti to check remaining funds. We'd spent heavily buying slaves, but some surplus remained.
I distributed it as "the emperor's gracious gift." Without that, calming the furious troops was impossible. After handing out silver, I stood before them humbly.
"Brothers! My beloved soldiers. No one knows better than I how that imperial letter enraged you. I know. I rage at the decision too.
But we are the legion. The empire's wall, the order of this world. Our blades target barbarians, not the emperor."
A few excited soldiers shouted at my speech.
"Excellency! The emperor made our deaths worthless. Insulted our fallen comrades. Barbarian legion commander? Unthinkable!"
"Unthinkable indeed. And I want no part of understanding it. But if we turn our blades backward? Will the barbarians sit idle on their new lands?"
Soldiers bit their lips.
"That's why we must endure. We swore loyalty to the empire. Bear it once more. Wasn't our fight for more than honor alone? Think of our comrades' blood. For the empire's tomorrow we survive for, sheath your swords. As your superior and brother-in-arms, I beg you."
I dropped to one knee before them.
Even the angriest faltered at my posture.
"Legion commander!"
"Excellency!"
Rikius and the officers knelt in shock too.
"Help the 16th Legion stand firm as the empire's guardians. I want to live as the empire's eagle, not a rebel tomorrow."
The soldiers gazed at me awhile. Conflict swirled in their eyes—rage at the empire's arbitrary armistice warring with loyalty to me.
I knew.
With my young blood boiling like theirs, I'd have drawn steel too. But sharing life-and-death bound them in hesitation.
After long pause, they sheathed weapons.
"We trust only you, Excellency. At your command, we'll return to duty."
"Forgive me."
Frontline soldiers saluted chest-high. Legion protocol, but also oath to the empire.
As legionaries reaffirmed loyalty and dispersed, Rikius said,
"Excellency, you needn't kneel."
"No. Today I told soldiers to swallow pride. Friends from unbeatable hells. Proud eagles—to swear loyalty to that damned emperor. What's a knee?"
I bit my lip hard.
Our legion recommitted to the imperial government, but the Drvina River legions differed. Unable to stomach Baccus's reign longer, they rose in arms. Leading was 29th Legion Commander Pompeianus.
Two legions joined the revolt.
Frontier legions all. With northern legions and mobile field army annihilated, few troops could stop them. For Heigirt's showdown, I'd nurtured this legion—now forced into kin-slaying again.
"Pompeianus. Drvina's famed general."
I covered my face with both hands. In the precious imperial army, talented generals were rare. Pompeianus was among the few.
Maintaining full strength in his sector without issue spoke volumes.
Such a man drew steel against the government. He'd lost faith utterly, but I couldn't condone his rebellion.
Whatever his ability, Baccus ascended legally. A mere legion commander toppling him would revive the chaotic soldier-emperor era.
Countless generals challenging illegitimate emperors. In this despair-filled age, it spelled doom.
For the empire's future, I couldn't stand by his usurpation.
Before the edict, I ordered legion mobilization. I also sent Heigirt a letter confirming the armistice held.
Blind trust in them was absurd, but priority was blocking imperial challengers.
Without this mess, we'd have repelled them from Bratr, crossed mountains to face weary Heigirt in glorious battle. No guarantees of victory, but we'd gladly teach invaders a lesson.
Now all was ruined.
"Excellency."
"Rikius? Legion ready?"
"3,000 of 4,200 assembled. Legion primed for march. Quartermaster prepared 10 days' rations, wagons, and siege engines."
"Riti worked hard."
"Yes."
"Tell Zarumal to scout ahead of main body. I'll inspect soon."
"Yes, Excellency."
As Rikius left, I eyed the chaotic northern map. Once scoured sleeplessly to repel barbarians, now for kin-blood. For an incompetent emperor.
Ridiculous.
But.
I swept my face upward.
If I waver here, the empire falls. We didn't spill so much comrades' blood to gift our world to barbarians.
Our legion will give the empire tomorrow. That's our fight's sole meaning. I'll stake my heart on it.
I donned the helmet beside the map. The legion commander's helm felt heavier than ever.
So Rica, give fragile, ordinary me strength for duty. To guard tomorrow for you and our soldiers' families.
I gripped the cold sword, lightly kissing the blade.
(To be continued)