The Price of a Hero (2)
Ersia and the empire fought for another month.
But both sides knew full well they could no longer inflict meaningful damage on each other.
The king of Ersia was hounded by his lords' demands to withdraw, while the empire saw no hope of breaking Ersia's numerically superior forces on the battlefield.
It was perhaps only natural that both sides began showing eagerness for peace negotiations.
Shapur's first demand was the handover of Sangara and five fortresses.
Having used those territories as a pretext for war, it was a reasonable ask. In return, he offered to withdraw the Eastern Army.
The imperial government accepted. Though the Eastern Army was prepared for a prolonged war, driving out Ersia and rescuing them were entirely different matters.
With the first condition agreed upon, Shapur tabled his second demand.
He called for gold as ransom for Atica and the civilians captured here.
Mobilizing an army of two hundred thousand had cost Shapur a fortune in war expenses. It was only natural he'd seek to cover them with reparations.
He set the price for Atica and the civilians at two hundred thousand solitus.
The lives of one of the empire's five great cities and its people commanded an enormous sum.
But refusing would mean Ersia destroying the city, hauling off the entire population, and selling them into slavery without a second thought.
After negotiations, the empire bargained it down to one hundred fifty thousand solitus—still a staggering amount.
But the empire still had more to pay for.
The ransom for Atica's brave soldiers who fought for the empire—and for me, Praetorian Prefect Ain.
Emperor Marius wanted us back, but Shapur's demand was the problem. He placed a price of one hundred thousand solitus on our heads.
One hundred thousand solitus!
A fortune that could muster tens of thousands of barbarian troops from the provinces. For an empire weakened by constant wars and civil strife, it was an impossible sum to gather.
Even the one hundred fifty thousand for Atica was barely manageable—another hundred thousand was absurd.
The emperor tried negotiating the amount with Shapur, but he scoffed and cut him off: no deals.
"Can't the empire pay even one hundred thousand solitus for the heroes who fought for it?"
Hearing the terms from my prison cell, the world went dark before my eyes.
One hundred thousand solitus. An insane amount. The empire's already committing one hundred fifty thousand for Atica—if they cough up more, it'll break their back.
I gritted my teeth.
Better to...
I stared at the ceiling.
...hang myself than let that happen.
I'd fought for the empire, not to bleed it dry.
But I soon dropped my head.
The promise I'd made to Rubiot held me back.
Two weeks later, I was released from prison and met the consul sent by the emperor.
"You've suffered greatly, Commander Ain."
I looked at the newly appointed consul Corobus's face and asked gravely,
"Your presence here means the negotiations are concluded, I take it?"
"You could say that."
"What about the ransom?"
At the mention of ransom, Corobus replied,
"His Majesty has paid it in full for you, General."
I stared at him in shock.
"But the empire doesn't have the funds for—"
"His Majesty has granted lands in the Egypt province—his private estates—to the senators."
Lands in the Egypt province.
I knew what that meant and raised my voice.
"That's unacceptable!"
The emperor's power was absolute, but it rested on his vast holdings as the empire's greatest landowner.
Those Egypt lands let him control grain prices and pay the special bonuses the troops craved.
Selling them off was as good as undermining his own throne.
Corobus gave a wry smile at my outburst.
"Precious as Egypt's lands are, they're not more precious than you, General. His Majesty values you that highly."
"Your Majesty."
I dropped to my knees right there.
Marius.
I'd put him on the throne, but he surely had his own philosophy as emperor, his own visions for rule.
And this ruler had sacrificed the foundation of his power for me.
Corobus said, as if consoling me,
"Don't feel burdened, General. What you've done for the empire in this war outweighs His Majesty's grace. We've merely repaid the loyalty we owed."
I clutched the dirt, head bowed.
"So stand tall. Fight for the empire. If you feel indebted, repay the empire more than one hundred thousand solitus—that's all."
Corobus gripped my shoulder firmly.
I bit my lip and nodded.
I returned to the imperial camp with my captured subordinates.
As I arrived, the emperor—who'd been in conference with the legion commanders—rushed out and seized my hand. Seeing the empire's ruler in his purple cloak, not even pausing to change shoes, choked me up.
"Your Majesty."
He pulled me into a fierce embrace. In his arms, my emotions surged.
"I've fallen short and brought great harm to the empire. Had I been wiser, more capable, I wouldn't have delivered such tragedy to you and the empire."
"No. I was the inadequate one. I had chances to pay more attention to Ersia but failed—this incompetent emperor. Forgive me, Ain."
Even after paying my one hundred thousand solitus ransom, he apologized to me. Thick tears fell from my eyes onto his shoulder.
"Punish me."
"The general who commanded the Eastern frontier, shedding tears? How many more sins do you want me to commit?"
The emperor placed a hand on my shoulder and led me into the command tent.
As I sat, he said,
"Forget what happened. I'm content just that you're alive."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
I swallowed my emotions and nodded.
"That's enough. Do you know what King Shapur called you?"
"No, sire."
"Lionheart. A general with the heart of a lion."
I recalled Shapur's face at the charge's final moments.
No wonder—a mere foot soldier daring a desperate assault against overwhelming numbers? Unthinkable.
"An ill-fitting nickname."
"I think it suits you perfectly."
"I'm the legion's eagle. That's name enough."
Marius burst into laughter.
"Always the same. True enough—whatever nonsense Eastern Shapur spouts, you're the eagle. Guardian of the empire's borders, protector of its people. No grander title needed."
"You honor me too much."
"No exaggeration. When word spread you were in danger, the northern commanders vied to rush to your aid. Even the barbarians. You're already known by that name up north."
"They've disrespected Your Majesty."
I grimaced bitterly.
"Disrespect? It's only natural. You're the legion now. Soldiers burn with zeal at your name; officers yearn for your command.
The northern troops who hold the line rushing to save you? Expected."
"No. The legions swear loyalty solely to Your Majesty and the empire, kneeling only before the golden eagle."
The emperor nodded.
"That steadfastness is why I trust you. Stay by my side, Ain, and uphold the empire. You're indispensable to it now. Never forget that."
I bowed in reply.
The emperor remained in the east for postwar matters. Establishing border forts along the new frontier and reallocating the displaced Eastern legions was his task alone.
Instead of accompanying him, I stayed in Atica. My condition wasn't fit for travel.
I lay in the governor's opulent bedroom, passing time as Erenia fed me porridge.
"How's the taste?"
"Salty."
After a spoonful, Erenia tasted it and frowned.
"I must've oversalted it."
"You made this yourself?"
"Of course."
I chuckled at her reply.
"You cooking? Hard to picture."
"Why?"
"A sword suits you—not a kitchen ladle."
"Hmph."
Erenia shoved the bowl aside.
I took a sip of cold water.
"Heard the rumors?"
"Rumors? You know I haven't left this bed."
"Then I'll tell you. People are calling you the 'Golden Praetorian Prefect' since your ransom matched Atica's."
"Golden Praetorian Prefect?"
"Some joke you could replace the golden eagle and march us to victory."
"Insolent fools who know no respect for the empire."
I leaned back against the headboard.
"How's your body?"
"Much better. Hard to worsen when all I do is eat, sleep, and rest. Makes me wonder if I've ever had it this easy."
"Even back home?"
Had I never told her about my roots? Racking my brain, I thought maybe not.
"Of course it was hard. I was born in an imperial province. Citizen rights, sure, but my father was a tenant farmer tilling a landlord's land.
We busted our backs for the harvest, only to hand a quarter to the lord and empire. Whatever was left barely fed the family—we never ate our fill."
"Still, childhood should've been easier, right?"
"Not for a tenant's kid. By five or six, I was weeding fields and tending livestock. In imperial villages, you pull your weight or starve."
"Better than the army, though."
"Sure. The army's where people die."
Erenia listened quietly, then kissed my forehead.
"You've lived so diligently, like a fool."
"Not diligently—just flailing to survive and climb a bit."
"You dreamed of rising high?"
"Once. Not anymore. The higher you go, the heavier the burdens, the more you must protect."
"Plenty ignore that and just enjoy the power."
"True. But not me."
She smiled wryly.
"No matter how I wish it, you'll never eye the throne?"
"Right. Not what I want."
"Unless your sense of duty forces it on you?"
I couldn't fully deny it.
"That won't happen. His Majesty trusts me, and he's wise enough to rule the empire."
Erenia twirled my hair.
"Fine. If that's how you see it, I won't wish it on you. But promise one thing."
"What?"
"If some grave dilemma ever troubles you, consult me first."
I met her green eyes. Ambition for the pinnacle still lurked there.
But rejecting this outright was hard. Like it or not, she was my woman now. I answered,
"All right."
(To be continued)