Return to the Mainland (1)
Before withdrawing after driving off the Dane tribe, I sent Rikius back to the continent first. I needed to confirm whether this series of invasions and incidents had all been Heigirt's doing.
If that was the case, he'd be making his move by now, so we had to prepare thoroughly before heading back to the mainland.
While awaiting word, I dispatched legionaries to the eastern coast to crush the Danes guarding their fleet and ships. Fortunately, the defenders were just a handful of elderly and infirm, so there was little resistance.
The soldiers dragged the prisoners they'd captured before me.
"Kneel."
The soldiers forced the boys and old men they'd brought to their knees before me. They were still young, but as they carried Dane blood, many matched our soldiers in height.
As I scanned them, my gaze settled on one particularly scrawny boy. What reason would the Dane army have for dragging a runt like that along?
Intrigued, I stopped in front of the boy.
"Lift your head."
The blond boy, face smeared with dirt, looked up at me without a trace of shame. He had delicate, soft features—an oval face like a polished egg. Had he been born a girl, he might have been doted on, but as a warrior, he was sorely lacking.
I clicked my tongue and turned to leave, but then I noticed something pressing against the child's chest.
'The girls on the frontier used to do the same.'
To avoid being looked down on by rough soldiers and locals in the borderlands, girls often disguised themselves as boys. In places where barbarian law of the jungle trumped imperial rules, being female was a fatal weakness.
So the kids would crop their hair short and bind their chests to pass as boys.
That was one reason you only saw young women back at legion bases.
I stared at the girl in boy's clothing for a moment, then ordered the soldiers to haul the rest away. As her tribesmen were dragged out, leaving her alone, the girl looked flustered for an instant.
I sat in my chair, chewing on dried raisins, and addressed her.
"Who are you? You don't look like warrior material—more like a girl who shouldn't even be on those ships. Must be someone special."
My question wasn't off-base. Barbarians believed women could never be warriors. There were rare exceptions, but it was unheard of otherwise.
The girl glanced toward the tent entrance, checking for an escape route.
Pointless. My guards surrounded the tent.
"……."
"Royalty?"
The Dane girl said nothing.
"If you won't answer, no choice. I'll have to strip you bare and toss you to the starving Briton prisoners."
As I raised my hand to summon a soldier, the girl finally spoke.
"I'll talk."
Her accent was surprisingly pure imperial—proper diction from a tribe with no contact with the empire? Definitely not common stock.
I let my interest show.
"I'm the youngest daughter of Dane King Orestes."
"A barbarian princess, then. Why join such a dangerous expedition with status like that?"
"That's—"
"A tool for political marriage?"
I'd seen barbarians treat their daughters as disposable pawns often enough. The girl bit her lip. Right on the mark.
Of course. The Danes weren't idiots; they wouldn't think planting a flag made Briton theirs.
They'd probably planned to ally with the rebel Cladius clan through marriage, solidify their hold, and secure control.
"Then you're worthless now. Even if you got back to your father."
She bit her small, plump lip at my words.
"The Danes won't take Briton anyway—not after that thrashing. No more dreams for them. And as a prisoner, your father won't give a damn about you. The question is, what to do with you?"
At my query, she placed a hand on her tunic and ripped it open. The cloth binding her undeveloped chest was fully exposed.
"Do as you wish. A daughter of the Danes fears no man, no night."
She spoke boldly, but her trembling eyes betrayed her.
I chuckled and extended my hand.
She hesitated, then approached. I shrugged off my cloak and flung it over her.
She caught the red eagle cloak and paused.
"I haven't decided your fate yet. We can settle that after hearing from your father. Until then, you'll be treated as a guest of the legion. Oh, right—one thing I forgot. What's your name?"
"Erenia. My father named me 'Daughter of the Storm.'"
"Not a bad name. Cogol, centurion!"
"Yes, sir."
Cogol paused at the entrance, spotting the topless girl. His glance my way felt a touch insolent.
I ignored it and gave orders.
"Take this girl, Erenia. She's the Dane king's daughter—treat her with respect."
"Understood."
Cogol got the implication.
We'd treated Heigirt's kin with courtesy before. Even enemies could be diplomatic cards; handle potential pawns with care.
Once Cogol led Erenia away, I leaned back in my chair, lost in thought.
'The Dane king dreamed of ruling Briton. If that's part of a larger plan, maybe Heigirt and the Dane king coordinated.'
If so, Heigirt's move was inevitable.
Heigirt.
Thinking of the giant made my chest tighten. Commander of imperial forces at Belanga, king of the lowland barbarians.
Once he stirred, barbarians would swarm like clouds. With the mighty cavalry he'd forged using imperial gold.
If he moved now, the empire's price would be too high. My 16th Legion's main force was scattered across Briton and the Drvina River; the empire's field armies were still reorganizing.
Newly forming legions too. If he struck now, we'd be strategically exposed.
I hoped it wouldn't come to that, but always plan for the worst.
I prayed Rikius's news would be "peace on the continent."
Expectations, though, always betray you.
On the third morning, Rikius arrived from Londinium by fast ship, his face ashen as he reported.
"Sir. Heigirt has mobilized."
"Damn it all."
I spat the curse.
Heigirt had raised his army the moment Brikinsa returned from Briton. He knew we'd crush the Briton rebels, but the Danes would hit Briton regardless.
He led his quietly trained 20,000 elite cavalry straight into Libitus.
East Libitus Governor Labirandus shut the gates in haste, but holding off the sudden onslaught was impossible. The capital, Langs, fell on the first day.
By striking the imperial northwest, Heigirt cut off our legions in the homeland from those in Briton.
Even if we returned, we couldn't link with other imperial forces. A shrewd strategic play.
I stared at the vast continental map, deep in thought. Returning to the mainland with just the 16th Legion would be jumping into Heigirt's jaws as he rampaged through Libitus.
Facing his momentum with under 4,000—barely scraping that with barbarian auxiliaries—was folly.
But sitting idle while the empire burned clashed with my nature.
So, what now?
Any way to bolster our numbers?
I'd take Briton legions if possible, but pulling them out was impossible.
Never mind the retreated Hiberia barbarians; northern savages beyond the Great Wall eyed the south hungrily.
In this mess—with one legion wiped out, leaving just two battered ones—stripping Briton defenses was tantamount to abandoning it. After all our blood and sweat, how could we give up so easily?
No way.
Hence the dilemma.
As I pondered, Rikius approached.
"Sir, the men are restless. Rumors of Heigirt's move on the continent are spreading through camp. Shouldn't we hurry back?"
"You think I don't want to? But we're under 4,000—half barbarians at that. If it looks unwinnable, those savages could turn on us anytime. Can't move rashly."
"But we can't just watch, can we?"
"True. Who's outside?"
"You called, sir?"
A centurion entered and knelt.
"Bring Erenia."
"Erenia? Who's that?"
Rikius looked baffled at the unfamiliar name.
"The Dane king's daughter."
"We captured a Dane princess?"
"Apparently."
Mid-conversation, Erenia was dragged in. Unlike our first meeting, she wore clothes befitting a girl. Still, her short-cropped hair and fierce eyes gave her a tomboyish air.
"Sit."
I offered her the chair as she entered.
Once seated, I crossed my legs and spoke.
"Didn't expect to summon you so soon, but urgent business arose."
She looked up.
"Planning to sell me off?"
"Hardly. Just need a letter in your handwriting."
"A letter?"
"Yeah. I want to deal with your father."
Her face hardened.
"After slaughtering my kin, you think my father will listen?"
"Of course. A king doesn't let personal feelings cloud judgment."
"He'd want to tear you apart."
"Sure, personally. But after losing tens of thousands for nothing, rejecting my offer outright won't be easy."
She bit her lip.
"So write my words in the letter. It'll be a new chance for you, your father, and your people."
"What do I write?"
"Have your kin strike empty Belanga. All the wealth and slaves there are the Danes'. In the empire's name, I'll guarantee free trade.
Want land? Buy it. That should perk your father's ears, right?"
Erenia's blue eyes glared defiantly— a look I'd not seen before. Yes, that was royalty.
I met her challenging gaze and smirked.
"Well?"
"How can I trust that?"
"Want guarantees? I pledge on my name. That enough?"
For the first time, Erenia smiled.
Then she stood and began undressing.
She shot back at me.
"We trust promises sealed in blood, not words. Take me. Then I'll write your letter. My father would want that too."
Erenia fixed me with a bold stare.
I studied her face a moment.
Not a flicker of doubt.
'Unavoidable, I suppose.'
Rikius took the hint and slipped out.
I beckoned Erenia closer.
(To be continued in the next chapter)