Fortune's Favor
Decius II
Despite the thousands of soldiers present, the legion's camp beside the Elamu River was unnaturally quiet. Decius walked carefully through the dusty streets between the many tents and tried to take an account of the army. The men were subdued, drifting sullenly from campfire to campfire and tent to tent. The normally ever-present games of dice and wrestling bouts were few and far between. Suspicious eyes watched the sorcerer as Decius moved past the openings of tents where soldiers sat idly.
Soon enough, Decius arrived at the center of the camp and the legion commander's tent. It was a wide red pavilion, trimmed in gold and guarded by four sentries in shining cuirasses and plumed helmets. As Decius approached, one sentry stepped forward and called him to a halt.
"Identify yourself and state your purpose here!" he barked. Decius smiled slightly and narrowed his green eyes.
"Decius Sallax Capricius," he replied, handing over a sealed scroll. The sentry examined it and saw that it bore the red wax seal of the magister militum, the highest-ranking military man in the empire outside the personage of the emperor himself. Decius then tapped the indigo sash across his chest that represented his allegiance to the sorcerer's college, the College Veneficorum. Nodding, the sentry waved Decius through. Returning the scroll to its place in his pouch, Decius entered the pavilion.
Inside, the mood was little different from the camp outside. One man slumped into a chair at the desk while another leaned over it, examining maps and charts. The sitting man was young, perhaps twenty-five, and of regal bearing despite his melancholy outlook. He was handsome and thin, with dusty blonde hair, green eyes, and a long, aquiline nose. He wore a burnished cuirass under a red sash, a white tunic that reached his knees, and a pair of leather riding boots.
The other man was older and taller, with an unshaven face and curly brown hair going gray. He was dressed much the same as his companion, though he wore a dark red cloak over one shoulder and a simple sword at his left hip.
The two men looked up at Decius.
"Who are you?" the man at the table asked, his voice morose.
"Decius Sallax Capricius, fresh from the Collegium Veneficorum at the orders of the magister militum. I am to be your new augur."
The older man snorted.
"We could have used you two weeks ago. You're not much good to us now. A monkey could tell our fortunes."
"Yes, I heard tale of the battle at every drink and meal between here and Chyrosia. Word of the legions' troubles travels fast."
"Indeed," the man at the table agreed, looking into an empty pewter mug. "I am Valerius Caesius Marius, senior tribune of the Third Legion, for now."
"You are in command?"
"Ever since the legate died," Marius replied wearily. "My fellow voyager of the damned in Marcus Drusus Bacarius, the camp praefect. If you have come to join us, I'd advise that you leave now. With both legates and the dux dead, we will no doubt be saddled with responsibility for this disaster. Our position has passed beyond precarious and into disastrous. This whole province will be in rebellion before the end of the month."
Marius reached for a pitcher but found it to be empty as well. With a heavy sigh, he threw the mug to the floor.
"I was about to order the legion to pull up camp and make for Chyrosia and the safety of its walls."
"If you do that, you'll surrender the entirety of Khesh to the rebels. How soon can reinforcements reach us?"
"Aravos Kostanthenes sent word from Amphikara. He will muster eight thousand garrison troops and come as soon as he can, but he expects that to be two months from now."
"A rebellion can spread a long way in two months," Decius replied, looking over the maps and charts. "There is no word from Laraebos? They should have soldiers aplenty."
"The governor dispatched them upriver, into Churax. Our pleas for aid may not have even reached him yet, but he is wholly engaged with his own designs. He will not spare a single nag for our effort."
"Then it falls to us," Decius mused. Marius snorted and Bacarius barked at the servants for more wine.
"The enemy outnumber us five to one, and their cavalry rule the desert. We have little option but to fall back on Chyrosia and wait for reinforcements."
"How many men did you save from the disaster?" Decius asked. He thumbed through a thick stack of papers.
"Perhaps thirty-five hundred infantry and a thousand horsemen, nearly all from the Third Legion, but not a single gun. I ordered them spiked before they were abandoned, but I fear few gunners were able to carry out the order. The Eighth Legion is reduced to a scant few hundred, though stragglers report there are survivors hiding out in the villages and marshes along the Elamu River and its tributaries."
"And since his victory, what has Battus been doing?"
"Solidifying his gains," Marius replied. He waved his hand over a map of the province, indicating all the land upriver of their current camp. "He has won over all the towns and tribal chiefs north of the Elamu and is drawing forces from the drylands to the west."
"An army is most vulnerable in retreat, and you've barely any cavalry. How did you escape so easily from the defeat at Yamhadan?"
Marius shrugged. Bacarius returned with a fresh pitcher of wine and set it down.
"Through the favor of Apliss," the camp praefect growled in reply. "The rumor is that he and his second quarreled over the loot stripped from our dead. We have used the respite to rally what stragglers we can, but we need to fall back on Chyrosia before they settle their feud or Battus washes his hands of his quarrelsome lieutenant and comes for us himself. They took our field guns at Yamhadan, but they will be of little use against the city walls. The harvest will be in in two weeks. We can last the winter in Chyrosia as reinforcements muster. There is peace on the eastern frontier, along with seven legions."
"Hmm," Decius made a noncommittal reply. He looked to his right, into the side chamber of the pavilion, where two young men in red cloaks sat playing cards. "Tribunes," he called. The men set aside their cards and marched into the main chamber and stood at attention.
"Decius Sallax Capricius, magus of the Collegium Veneficorum and augur of the Third Legion," he introduced himself. "Your names?"
"Rhamut Shoula, junior tribune of the Third Legion," the taller of the two men replied.
"Sarus Jovian Graeborvan, acting senior tribune of the Third Legion," the other man said mechanically.
Decius looked to Marius, "and the other junior tribunes?"
"Dead, wounded, and unknown." Marius said, ticking off a finger for each missing tribune. "None from the Eighth have been found alive."
"What was the last report on Battus' position?"
"He was some hundred miles north, at Shipar, along the Nissibi River."
"What are his objectives?" Decius inquired. "Both short term and long term. Does he mean to crown himself king and rule Khesh himself, or is he merely demanding lowered taxes?"
Marius sighed. "I am not sure he has any. The governor imposed a new tax on beasts of burden and expanded it to include the tribesmen's herds. Much of Upper Khesh lives on the livestock trade and was faced with having to pay a tax they had not saved for. When they protested, the governor had their envoys flogged. Battus was merely the first man to take up arms."
"Hmm. And your fallen dux was a cousin of the governor, correct?"
"Cousin or nephew, I could not untangle their family tree. In any case, it was blood ties, not merit, that won him his command."
"How did it happen?"
The praefect snorted in derision.
"He wrote a letter. It's how we all got our commands."
"The battle, not the appointment," Decius clarified.
"We spent a month chasing mounted marauders. The dux tired of swatting flies and made for Battus' hometown of Haddul to force him to battle. They blocked the ford, so the dux went around, through the palm groves. We never saw them coming."
"Well, that's good. I feared your soldiers had gone soft."
Marius scowled. "You've a lot of military criticisms for a man too young to have attended the cursus militorum."
Decius sighed. "It is true, I have only read about such things while never commanding anything greater than wooden soldiers in the Collegium Commons. However, I come to you not to bury you, but to raise you up at your lowest hour. I have done my auguries and the omens bode well for us.
"You and I each have friends in the curia, Marius. More friends than the governor, that is for sure. Especially once they hear he has provoked the people so irresponsibly. If we send our letters to the emperor wrapped in victor's laurels, we will make this his fault. But if we sit and wait until Kostanthenes relieves us, you will be known as the man who cowered beneath Chyrosia's walls while rebellion burned throughout the province."
Marius' eyes narrowed. Decius smiled.
Good, there is fire in him yet.
"What do the auguries say?"
