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B3 Chapter 6: Under New Management
🕑 Added 2025-10-15 01:39:48 +0000 UTCB3 Chapter 6: Under New Management
At Tiberius’s words, the duke grimaced slightly. It was the briefest of expressions, a mere flash across the serious man’s face. Yet it spoke volumes.
To some extent, it was understandable. Considering the treatment he’d received at the hands of his last liege, Tiberius rather doubted the man was eager to come under the yoke of another so quickly. Yet as he’d already said, the man had little choice in the matter. Not if he wanted a chance to retain what he already had.
“My fealty?”
“Indeed. Tomorrow, before we march, a small ceremony will be held before all of the men. One in which you will swear fealty to me.” Tiberius stated. “In exchange, I will guarantee you dominion over your current lands after Novara’s king is deposed. Should you prove your loyalty and competence during this campaign, then we will discuss the expansion of your holdings.”
The duke frowned, but nodded in agreement. These were terms that they had already discussed in writing to some extent, and incredibly fair ones at that. Tiberius could have insisted on the seizure of his lands, but given the scope and speed of their conquests? Having someone experienced in the management of these lands would be quite a boon indeed. If he could be trusted to do so, of course.
“Command of my men…?”
“Will remain with you for the moment.” Tiberius confirmed. “As a commander, however, you will report to me. Overall decisions and tactics will also be decided by me.”
Marcus cleared his throat. “Pardon me, emperor. I must ask… Do you intend for these forces to become another Legion?”
The emperor remained silent. Unlike with the elves, he knew little about the training and general competence of the duke’s men. And even if they were somehow good enough in battle to warrant being called Legionnaires, he rather doubted that a single one of them held a mindset and values befitting of a citizen.
That was even without the consideration that turning these men into a legion would drastically change their battle capabilities in the short term. The elves had shown that much. No, any retraining would be a matter for after they’d conquered Novara.
He allowed the silence to stretch on for a little while, just to see the duke’s reaction. The man’s jaw was set. His face betrayed little, but Tiberius could still read a hint of worry in it—worry that diminished only slightly as he shook his head. “No. Two Legions will suffice.”
“My own scouts informed me of your forces as we approached.” The Duke of Redcliffe said. “You have… considerably more men at your disposal than the late baron’s reports indicated.”
“Our forces have grown since Hausten.” Tiberius admitted. “Something which should prove reassuring.”
The duke nodded slowly. “It is. I fear it may still not be enough, which is why I have called on the forces led by my son as well. But is it true that the elves have sided with you?”
“What, you doubted my words?” Marcus tisked. “What reason would I have to make up such a fantastical detail?”
Tiberius ignored the man. “Indeed. They, too, have sworn fealty to Rome.”
The duke blinked. “Truly? How…? The elves are historically a reclusive race. The fact that they have emerged from their forests at all is one thing, but to place themselves under your banner…”
“Our nations have history together.” Tiberius said simply.
“Truly? I will admit, I had not heard of Rome before all of this. And while I do not consider myself a scholar, the texts I consulted held no mention of your empire’s name either…”
The duke quirked a questioning eyebrow, but Tiberius did not elaborate. Marcus cleared his throat slightly. “It is a bit of history that Novara seems to have forgotten. Perhaps I can fill you in later… with the emperor’s permission, of course.”
Tiberius gave his approval with a nod. The time for secrecy was long past. Now, sharing the tale of Rome’s glory—both past and present—may better serve their interests than hiding their origins.
Eventually, the duke let out a tired sigh. The man seemed to age a decade in a minute as he met Tiberius’s steady gaze. “Very well. I, too, will swear fealty to you as my new liege. As I mentioned, the men I have brought with me do not represent the totality of my forces. They are simply my personal retinue and a portion of the duchy’s last remaining soldiers. I cannot leave my lands completely undefended, you understand. But know that their quality and loyalty are unquestioned. None are below level fifteen, and most bear a majority of uncommon skills.”
The decision was completely understandable. Still, despite the duke’s obvious pride in his forces, the description left Tiberius a little… underwhelmed. The fact that they were cavalry units certainly helped, as they would still open up additional tactical possibilities. But if that level of strength was considered elite? Then perhaps the Legion would face even less resistance than he thought.
“The remainder of the duchy’s forces are being pulled back from the western front,” the duke continued. “As previously discussed, they plan to rendezvous with us en route.”
“I see. There is one matter I would like your opinion on.” Tiberius tapped a finger on the desk. “What will be the consequences of your forces leaving the warfront?”
“That… is a less pleasant topic.” Duke Redcliffe winced, shifting slightly in his seat. “You see, he and his men were stationed at Corwyn Pass.”
Marcus blinked, his eyes darting to meet Tiberius’s own. But he already recognized the significance of the location. The bard had spoken to him about it during one of their many, many talks.
“They disengaged successfully from the orcs two days ago, collapsing the pass behind them from what I understand. But they do not expect it to hold them for long. At best, we have a few more days before orcs finish excavating the pass and begin flooding through in earnest.”
“Hmmm…” That was troubling news for a number of reasons. He began turning over the complication in his head and evaluating how it might change their existing plans. “What is the probability that the king is able to move additional men to reinforce the position before the orcs break through?”
The duke scoffed. “Honestly? Practically zero. All of the men available are preoccupied on other fronts. Reshuffling them would just provide other openings for the orcs to come through, albeit less direct ones. And that’s assuming he’d be able to even communicate the orders in time.”
“...Which means we will soon have a new problem on our hands,” Marcus sighed. “Barbarian orcs spilling onto the plains and looting everything in sight until they are beaten back. Unless…?”
The bard raised an eyebrow. Tiberius knew exactly what the man was asking. He wanted to suggest that some portion of the Legion be sent to reinforce the position. With their speed, there was no question of whether they’d make it in time. However…
“...Marcus.”
“Yes, emperor?”
“What are the orcs like as a race?”
The bard shrugged. “It is as I said, emperor. They are seen as bloodthirsty barbarian raiders who lust for battle and destruction. At least, that’s the prevailing impression of them. In reality, I hear that they can be quite organized when they put their heads together. Hence the ongoing conflict.”
“I see.” Tiberius turned to the duke and considered how to phrase his next question. “Given the history of this conflict, what is the likelihood that the orcs would choose to simply raid and pillage the countryside, rather than focus on striking at the heart of Novara?”
The noble frowned, his head tilting slightly as he thought. “Well… that’s a good question. I’d expect that they’d choose to take the capital before rampaging across the countryside in earnest—the majority of them, at least.”
“I see. And what do you expect the king’s reaction to be when he hears of the threat to his capital?”
“I would expect he’d immediately call all forces to defend him.” The Duke of Redcliffe answered without hesitation. “Regardless of whether doing so would open up additional vulnerabilities along the western front.”
Tiberius leaned back in his chair and thought. A plan began to take shape in his mind. It may involve borrowing a bit of trouble from the future, but if it worked…
He smiled mercilessly. “I believe the circumstances have afforded us an opportunity.”
***
“Legatus.” Quintus saluted. “The scouts have confirmed the approach of the duke’s remaining forces. Some will make contact en route.”
Gaius nodded. When he spoke, his tone was serious, with little trace of the lad’s usual humor.“Good. See that it’s done. Have we received any word from the men scouting near the capital?”
“Not yet, sir.”
“Hmmm.” Gaius frowned. “Let me know as soon as you hear from them.”
Quintus saluted. “Yes, Legatus.”
The new commander of the Legion nodded, and Quintus took the dismissal for what it was. He turned on his heel and headed back toward the camp.
The seasoned first centurion had grown relatively used to receiving orders from the youth, given his previous status as an officer. Still, calling Gaius Legatus instead of Tiberius was taking a bit of getting used to. Quintus had yet to slip up in that respect, thankfully, but it was a streak that he was bound to ruin eventually.
When it came to the actual day-to-day operations of the Legion, however, not much had changed. It wasn’t as though the appointment of a new leader changed all of their standard practices overnight—especially not while they were on the warpath. And given that the new Legatus still reported to Tiberius, even their large-scale priorities still remained the same.
In Quintus’s opinion, that was a good thing. Consistency was key, especially right now. Once Gaius had better solidified the men’s trust in his abilities, then he could afford to alter his approach and call for more sweeping changes.
As he strode through the camp, Quintus took note of the general attitude around him. Legionnaires saluted or nodded their heads respectfully as he walked past, gestures that he returned in stride.
The fact that he remained as Primus Pilus did much for the men’s cohesion. Gaius had only been with them for their most recent campaign, and that, coupled with his relative youth, didn’t sit well with everyone. Sure, the men would take orders, but would they trust their new Legatus with their lives?
Most seemed willing to give the lad a chance, but there were a few in particular that Quintus was keeping an eye on.
Still, the lad’s bearing did instill a bit of confidence that such trust would come quickly. Gaius had adopted a more formal manner with the men, one more befitting of his new station, yet not so much so that his head seemed swollen. He was also making an effort to go out and be seen among the Legionnaires more, rather than allow himself to stay cooped up with his papers and reports.
They were small changes, but effective ones that would help maintain his reputation for authenticity.
“Primus Pilus.” A centurion jogged up to him, the man's helmet tucked beneath one arm. “A word, sir. We’ve gathered the siege engines outside the camp for the moment, but the engineers wanted to review the nature of their fortifications…”
Quintus nodded, indicating for the man to lead on. But he hadn’t taken two steps before he froze in place. A bitter chill swept over him, running up and down his spine like the icy fingers of a mourning ghost. His stomach hollowed into a pit of grief and dread that seemed to have no apparent source.
The Primus Pilus’s head whipped toward the west. Beside him, he saw the other centurion’s attention snap toward the same seemingly arbitrary point in space, as did the head of every other Legionnaire in the camp.
His jaw clenched. He’d felt the sensation more times than he liked to think about. They all had. Quintus had even begun to grow desensitized to it, mostly out of necessity so as not to grow distracted in the midst of battle. But feeling it now…
“Form up!” Quintus roared, his orders carrying clear through the camp. “First through fourth centuries, with me! Sixth through ninth, ring around the camp!”
No one questioned the orders. Most of the Legionnaires were already hastening to don their armor and ready their weapons as Quintus shouted.
A Legionnaire had been killed. Likely one of their scouts, based on the direction. And based on the distance… it seemed they would soon be under attack.
Comments
Beeees!
Probably that guy the kind sent to deal with the duke. And the duke and son are about to get a front row seat into legionary tactics
LordBoris
Better hope It wasn't Duke troops who killed our scout, otherwise they got themselves a big problem
