Chapter 39: Cleansing the Border (4)
The legion marched steadily along the Drvina River. Along the way, we discovered a few small settlements ravaged by barbarian raids.
They were mostly villages of poor farmers who had migrated to these frontier lands to escape heavy taxes back home.
I felt a pang of guilt for failing to ensure their safety, but these were hard times for everyone. With the empire barely clinging to life day by day, protecting every last peasant at the bottom was simply impossible.
If only I could act like some storybook hero, boldly promising to shield them all.
I reined in my horse slowly, surveying the ruined village.
Then a few legionnaires scouting the wreckage shouted in surprise.
"Sir! There's a child here!"
A child?
I was puzzled by their words. Barbarians who crossed into imperial territory usually killed all the men and children during their raids, raping the women before selling them into slavery. Raising enemy kids was a hassle, and even if you did, they'd likely grow up harboring resentment.
Survivors among the children were rare.
I ordered the men to bring the child. Soon, a girl emerged from the basement of a collapsed house, sniffling as she clutched a legionnaire's hand. I looked down at her for a moment before dismounting.
"You're a girl. May I ask your name?"
She hesitated, then bowed her head deeply. No name yet. It was common on the imperial frontier.
In an era of high infant mortality, frontier folk often waited until a child passed ten before giving them a proper name. They were just "firstborn" or "secondborn" until then.
I gave a wry smile and asked her,
"If you don't have a name, may I give you one?"
She looked up at me. Her features were delicate—quite pretty, in fact. If I'd had a child when I first arrived on the frontier, she'd be about this girl's age now.
After a moment's hesitation, she nodded.
"Your name is Lucrecia. It's the name of a noblewoman beloved by the empire's people. If a person's fate is shaped by their name, I believe good days await you. Do you like it?"
A faint smile bloomed on her face.
I called Rikius over and told him to take her, get her fresh clothes, and look after her. He seemed a bit flustered by my orders but saluted without protest.
I watched as she took Rikius's hand and headed toward the rear of the column, then clasped my hands behind my back.
This was nothing but a shallow, selfish act to ease my own conscience for shirking my duty.
Saving one child wouldn't erase my responsibility for briefly neglecting the border.
But wasn't rationalizing and comforting ourselves like this what made us human in the end?
Proof that I'm just an ordinary man, no matter what they call me a hero.
I circled the village once more, then mounted up.
The next two days of marching passed without incident. The engineers who'd gone ahead had repaired the roads diligently, as planned.
But suddenly, I changed our route. Two barbarian chieftains galloped up in alarm as I altered course.
"Excellency, why the change in direction?"
"The weather looks like fog's coming. Marching through the woods in that would be suicide. Wouldn't it?"
They couldn't argue. Fog would neutralize the legion's advantages, and woods on top of that meant certain annihilation. Once they withdrew, I summoned Riti and asked how many caltrops we had.
Caltrops were often used in sieges or retreats to cripple enemy cavalry mobility.
Riti thought for a moment before replying carefully.
"We geared for open-field battles, so we've got about 2,000 left. If we use them properly, we can cover two directions."
"Not bad. Understood."
We pressed on along the new route for a day's march. During that time, I kept watch on our barbarian allies traveling with us, checking for suspicious moves. But they showed none.
They've picked a side, whether they've made a pact or not.
I figured even those who'd wavered at first had decided to join us. They were siding with the clear winner.
It was a rational choice for minor tribes like theirs. As long as we kept proving our strength, they'd stay allies.
And with time to build trust, some might even pledge loyalty like true comrades.
I believed order in the Bellgorod region would be restored soon.
Lost in thought, I saw Rikius ride up.
"Excellency, barbarians spotted nearby."
"An army?"
"Women and children. A few old warriors, but mostly unarmed."
I pondered his report.
A trap?
But few men would send their own families out defenseless as bait.
That would make them monsters who exploited even human emotions for schemes—Heigirt-level fiends. Were there any like that here?
I stroked my chin.
Unlikely. Probably one of the chieftains warned them of our route, sent the warriors ahead, and got ambushed. That's the logical explanation.
I reached a decision. No need for overcomplication—keep it simple and clear.
I spoke coldly.
"As Governor of Bellgorod, I order the 16th Legion: Slaughter the barbarians. No exceptions for women or children. Massacre them. Crush them.
Kill them to the last. Instill hatred and fear in the barbarians with merciless terror."
"All shall be as Your Excellency commands."
Rikius saluted across his chest, then headed to Rubiot.
I watched as the drummers beat the signal and the legion surged forward. The barbarians, stunned by our sudden appearance, abandoned their belongings and fled in panic.
But the women, children, and elderly were too slow. Even the old warriors on horses couldn't all escape.
Soon, our vanguard caught the stragglers.
"Aaagh!"
Shrill screams pierced the air as heads rolled ownerless across the ground. No mercy for women or children. In peacetime, one might ask how anyone could trample the weak so brutally.
Philosophers would foam at the mouth, insisting humans must act humanely.
But these were our enemies. If we didn't kill them, they'd kill us. To defend the empire's long border, we had to rule with absolute violence and terror.
Only by showing that crossing meant certain death would the hordes lurking in the Black Woods abandon thoughts of invasion.
To protect the empire, we had to be crueler than the barbarians.
Beneath the empire's fluttering banner, I silently oversaw the slaughter, then summoned the barbarian chieftains.
Usiper and Jeshuter soon appeared before me, faces paler than before. Ignoring them, I gazed at the carnage and said,
"The legion is now fully engaged. It's time to test your true loyalty to the empire. Flank them.
Kill any women the legion misses. Crush the children. Hunt down the fugitives and sever their heads. Bring them impaled on pikes.
I'll judge your loyalty to the empire by that."
"B-but, Excellency, they..."
Jeshuter stammered. Slaughtering their own would bind them irrevocably to us. For minor tribes caught in the middle, it was an unwelcome demand.
But nonsense. There was no middle ground between irreconcilable foes. Fight us or submit—one or the other.
I scoffed.
"A truly regrettable aside, Chieftain Jeshuter. That's an order. If you mean to defy it, do so now. I'll gladly treat you as enemies. Well?"
He swallowed dryly. Then Usiper spoke.
"Our tribe will obey Your Excellency."
The bearish man said it with an inscrutable face.
I chuckled. My gut said he'd hedged bets with both sides.
But they'd crossed the Rubicon now. At least the tribes who'd come with us couldn't easily turn back.
"Chieftain Usiper says he'll do it. What about you, Chieftain Jeshuter?"
My cold gaze fixed on him. Smaller than Usiper, Jeshuter seemed equally lacking in resolve. After agonizing, he replied hoarsely,
"I... will obey Your Excellency."
"Then go."
I issued the order, my red eagle cloak billowing as I slowly rode toward the battlefield where our legion wrought its slaughter.
Caw, caw.
Crows circled the massacre site. The ground strewn with countless women and children evoked a hellish tableau.
But it wasn't enough. To drive late-arriving barbarians into blind rage and reckless charge, we needed more fury.
I ordered the headless bodies hung from trees, the heads piled high and burned until the bones showed. The barbarians who heard the command looked at me like a monster.
I knew.
I'd issued an order no human should.
But to guard the empire's borders and protect those within, we had to be more demonic than demons outside.
If the empire were mighty, no need for this, no reason to fight. But we were weak. The moment the weak start picking means, they lose the war. I'd learned that from hard experience.
Leaving the pyres of smoldering corpses behind, I mounted.
"Excellency, cleanup's done. They had gold, jewelry, valuables—what should we do with them?"
Rikius rode up and asked. I replied nonchalantly,
"Load them on wagons for now. We're not in a position to auction them off leisurely. Battle's coming soon."
"Yes, sir."
I glanced at the soldiers sorting the loot, then crossed the column with the legion standard-bearer.
The troops roared at the sight of my cloak.
"Ain! Ain! Ain!"
I raised a hand lightly in acknowledgment and headed to the command group. Rubiot dismounted to greet me, face splattered with blood he didn't bother wiping.
"The legion has slaughtered the barbarians as ordered."
"Good work."
"Now the barbarians will want to grind our bones to dust."
"They'll come charging in a frenzy. If I'm right, they're a day behind us."
"How do you know?"
"Our barbarian friends sent them there."
Rubiot laughed at my answer.
"Even the enemy dances in Your Excellency's palm."
"Less 'palm' and more 'I've gained experience dancing on the edge of death.' Rubiot."
I clapped his shoulder. Only then did he drop the formal tone.
"Spit it out."
"About the spoils—we should use them strategically in the operation. Troops might grumble, but can you calm them?"
He rubbed his nose.
"The legion's always been loyal to you. Even when fury at Baccus nearly sparked mutiny, one word from you sheathed every sword.
We'll follow your will faithfully. You're the legion itself to us eagles. You are the legion."
His words eased the weight on my shoulders a bit.
Being trusted like this by comrades felt good. The way to repay it? Win, keep winning, fulfill the legion's mission on my back.
"Thanks. That gives me strength. Tell the men it's my will. I'll head up the main road, draw the barbarians in, and pick a battlefield suited for the fight."
"All as you command, my commander."
Rubiot saluted across his chest and bowed.
I returned the gesture lightly, then mounted my warhorse.
(To be continued)