Chapter 31: Aftermath A Soldier's Life
Ranobes
Chapter 31 Announcement Patreon is getting chapter 41 and 42 today
The mood was somber as we grabbed our packs from up on the muddy ridge while Mage Durandus searched the storm giant and where he had been focusing his digging efforts with magic. The stormy sky slowly cleared, and the sun started sporadically showing through the clouds. The men left back at the road would know we had succeeded when there were no more storm clouds. Exhausted from the fight, it took a lot of energy to climb the muddy slope multiple times to get all the packs down. As Durandus recovered his aether, he healed himself and the most severely wounded men.
After setting the camp up, the grizzly job of digging the graves started. Durandus told us to bury them on the far side of the crater, well away from the dig site. The soft, muddy ground made it feasible with our terrible tool set. We made crude shovels from destroyed shields and spears. The dead men were stripped of their legionnaire gear, placed in shallow graves, and then covered. The ten of us were exhausted as the night rolled on us with no warning since we were essentially in a massive hole. We lost daylight earlier and faster than expected. Durandus was still studying the dig site well into the night and got irritated when disturbed.
I did not even bother setting up my tarp tent. I just laid out my oiled cloak and bed roll. Others did the same, and the night watch was going to be a single person at a time, a one-hour shift each. I was even woken to take my turn. Not that you could see anything other than Durandus with glow stones mounted on spears driven into the ground at the dig site.
The morning came, and my hip and thigh throbbed. The rocky slide that had torn up my canvas pants and the damaged flesh was probably infected. As the camp stirred, a legionnaire noticed and said, "Have Durandus heal that. His aether should have recovered by now." I nodded and took out a meal bar, unwrapping it and nibbling on the cracker outside. It was like a dam of hunger had burst, and I consumed the bar rapidly with a canteen of water. It was one of the best meals I had ever eaten, but I knew it was just my body telling me I was starving for calories.
After the meal, I limped over to the mage and asked him, "Mage Durandus, can you heal my leg? I think it is infected."
I waited patiently while he continued to stare at the ground. Finally, he spoke with some excitement, but not looking at me, "There is an entire city covered under the swamp. A city built for giants!" He knelt in the mud, pressed his hand to the earth, and whispered to himself, "What was it searching for?"
I asked again, "Can you help with my leg? I think it is infected."
He looked up, irritated at the interruption. He put his hand on my thigh, and I felt the familiar feel of aetheric healing. I focused on it as the warmth spread and dirt and tiny stones were pushed out of the flesh. I thought I had cleaned the wound well, but I was wrong by the amount of material being extruded. Next time, I would save a potion for myself. When he was finished, he returned to studying the ground with whatever magic he was using. I returned to the others who were setting up their tents and going through all the gear from the comrades. Laying out weapons, personal items, and bulky gear in three piles. The two men looked up, their faces black with dirt. My own face could not look much better. One man said, "Besides the coin purses, you can take what you want. We will get the coin to their families through the Legion Hall." I walked over and picked up the best spear of the bunch and the spear I had brought with me and dropped when I had been thrown back when the archer exploded in front of me.
The other man commented, "You did well. We would all be dead if not for your actions yesterday."
"I am glad someone thinks so," I looked quickly at the mage to indicate who I was talking about.
A grunt of agreement, and then he said, "We never experienced a defeat like this before." I would not contradict him, arguing that it was a victory since the giant was slain. It certainly felt like we had lost. "We have sustained heavy injuries before, but Durandus usually heals us right after the fighting."
The other man added, "And he has never been injured that badly in battle." He picked up some small black bags in a pile. He whispered to me, "Want some glow stones? If you pawn them, they are worth over a gold piece, and we will not take them all." I still had the one from Leonidus but bent down and scooped up seven. The stones were the size of a small chicken egg and maybe four ounces each. He smirked and nodded as I brought them to my pack. I felt like he was offering me a reward for my efforts in the fighting. Two pounds of glow stones was a fair amount of weight, so they would be added to my dimensional storage later. I returned and sat with them.
"Do you think we will be heading back tomorrow?" someone asked another man. I was happy that they were talking around me. Surviving the near-death experience had brought me into their trusted circle.
"Probably. He might have spells to see deep into that muddy earth, but he doesn't have a single one to dig," his fellow said with some malice directed at the mage.
I asked, "Does he always loot the legionaries for essence when they die?" They looked at each other and then back at me.
One shook his head, "No. Well. Usually, a dozen monster corpses keep him busy, and we rarely lose anyone. I have been with him for almost four years. Although we rotate the men in our company, I think only nine," he paused thinking, "no ten have died in all that time. Most of our missions are escorting some baron or baroness between cities. We typically just see a wandering monster or a few bandits."
I nodded. "I am filthy. I am going to bathe in the swamp," I laughed at the absurdity of it—going into murky water to get clean. "Can you come and guard me for a short while?" Both men struggled to their feet, and a few men joined us.
We stripped and bathed in pairs while the five others remained on watch. Four men remained to watch over the engrossed mage. The filth was real, and even bathing in murky water, I was thrilled to get cleaner. I pulled some things out of my hair that I cared not to identify and just flung them away.
I thought about taking one of the dead man's pants or even pulling one from my storage. We had only stripped the bodies of armor and possessions, not clothes. We buried them with their clothes.
The man I washed with tried to start a conversation, "This water is not bad. I remember passing a swamp as a child with leeches as big as my fist!"
I noticed one of the black bottom-feeding fish scurry away from my feet, and I swore and kicked at it. Stumbling back, my foot caught on a root, and I fell in. The man laughed, but I did not appreciate his humor. He was one of the archers I saved with a healing potion. He continued to talk, obviously trying to make me uncomfortable, "You know, now that the storm and lightning have cleared, I bet the giant frogs will return with the other predators. Your company killed a big snake? Wonder if there are any more in the swamp?"
I played his game and acted nonchalant. "Yeah, took all twenty of us to bring it down, and it swallowed two men during the fight. They barely survived. With any fewer men, and without our mage, they would have drowned in the snake's gut."
It worked as he suddenly became more observant of the surrounding water. I finished cleaning as best I could and returned to my tent. I pulled all eight of the glow stones into my dimensional space. I was not going to carry the extra two pounds out of the swamp. Around mid-day, with nothing left to do, I milled about the piles of equipment since everyone had now picked it over.
Each of the dead men had their prized possessions whittled down to a small sack for their families. At least I would not have to help carry them out. Well, so far, I did not think I would have to. I probably would if asked. It felt too much like robbing the dead to me. This was not a fantasy game where looted people. Still, I searched for something more edible to eat. I had one bag of trail mix left and the ration bars. One canteen smelled like wine, but I was not in the mood. I found some wrapped sausage, which I munched on while I ate. I also found the heavy metal fishing line with the hook the soldier used. I pocketed it.
The soldiers had packed fairly light, so there was not much of interest. I added a small sewing kit; just a wallet of needles and heavy thread, a small jar of horse rub for chafing, and a small, wonderfully crafted wooden flute wrapped in an oiled cloth. I couldn't play a lick, but maybe I would find the time, and it was a beautiful instrument. It would have been a shame to leave the flute behind weather in the elements.
As I returned to my tent to rest, the mage finally broke his gaze and returned to our camp. He seemed to be seeing it for the first time, his daze broken. He was completely healed and only looked slightly pale from lack of sleep and aether usage.
"We will be returning in an hour. You can pack everything up." He looked over at the pile of gear I was standing at. "Take what you can carry." With those words, he went to his larger tent that had been set up by the men and started to eat his own rations. He deeply thought about whatever he had found and ignored everyone as we picked up the camp.
An hour later, Durandrus packed up his tent and carried his backpack out of the swamp. The rest of the men were too burdened with gear to help him. We were going to have to stay the night on one of the small islands.
The mage was distracted as we made our way through, and twice, the men in the lead fell into deeper waters. Both times, Durandus had to save them with his magic from drowning with their heavy packs. When the sun set, Durandus chose an island, and we began to set up camp. As we did so, one of the giant frogs found us. A man had been shitting on the island's far side, and the frog grabbed him and pulled him in and under with its rope-like tongue. Durandus scrambled from his position, but the frog was already in deep waters with its prize. Durandus fumed, "You are all getting sloppy! In dangerous terrain, it is three! Three men at all times together!" He continued yelling at the legionnaires, but they were numb to the verbal assault. When he was done with his tirade, they returned to camp duties, mourning the loss of their companion in silence.
I realized the man taken was the one I had bathed with in the swamp water. Well, he was right about one thing. The predators of the swamp were returning to their territory now that the storm had been dispersed.
Chapter 32: Swamp Things A Soldier's Life
Ranobes
Chapter 32 Announcement Patreon has up to Chapter 42
The loss of another legionnaire hung heavy on the company. The remaining men were splitting the night watch, and we were all bundling our tents toward the center of the island. I was asked to participate in the second watch and agreed without hesitation. I was going to share it with four other men. The air remained humid, but the temperature had dropped significantly. Mage Durandus had only dried himself before going to sleep. He informed the men that he was still recovering his using his aether healing men in the morning. We would have to sleep in wet clothes tonight.
I slept heavily, even soaking wet. I was roused in the middle of the night and felt yesterday's aches. Durandus had only healed the skin and cleared the infection on my leg. My muscles were still sore. Since there was a chill, I wrapped my bed roll around me while I went to serve on watch. We sat, and the watch was explained in a whisper, "We will each cover an arc of a quarter island's shore. Your arc is here," he pointed out in the moonlight the range of my focus. "The water is still, and the moonlight is strong. Focus on the shoreline and look for ripples in the waters. If you see anything just tap me and point it out. I will decide if the alarm needs to be raised."
We positioned ourselves on a rotting log on one side of the camp. The other three men took the other side of the camp. It was about fifteen minutes before my partner whispered, "Eryk, right?" I nodded in the moonlight. "I am Brutus."
"Nice to meet you, Brutus," I whispered back. "How long have you been with Durandus?"
"About two years," he whispered back and was quiet for a period. "I always thought having a company mage with healing would be good. It did not help that the giant was splattering us with one swing."
I recalled Brutus was the lone survivor of the spearmen. He had received a massive blow to his skull and been knocked out and revived after the fighting. "We should just be happy we survived and get back to the city," I whispered back. Two loud clicks from the other side of the camp had Brutus turn his head quickly.
"Hold up a minute. That is a signal for a possible attack," he remained still, and we both listened hard. After five minutes, a single click came, and he relaxed, "It happens two or there times in the night. We have a strong moon tonight, but the dark still plays tricks on the eyes."
I looked up at the moon and studied it. Unlike the moon I was accustomed to, this moon was twice the size and had deep blue coloring. Maybe it was covered in water because it had a glossy look. "You shouldn't stare at it," Brutus said. "It will ruin your night sight for a few minutes because it is brighter than the surroundings."
"Is the moon covered in water?" I asked as he was proved correct. Everything looked much darker as my pupils reset.
"I think so. It is called Neptune's Tear. Neptune controls the tides and storms," he said, tensing, shifting, and pulling a dagger, "Quiet!" he rasped as he focused. I saw it too. There were ripples in the water on the shore. He stood and produced his glow stone bag. I pulled one from my dimensional space. I had charged all of them, so I knew it was ready. He moved to the right, "If I see something, I will throw the glowstone at it so we can fight with more light."
"I am ready as well," I whispered back. Brutus tapped twice on his spear with his dagger, signaling the others on the watch for a possible enemy. I gripped my own spear tightly, trying to see movement in the blue-gray-lit swamp. I started to get an uneasy feeling rising in me. "Do you?" I questioned.
"Yes." he tapped twice more on his spear. "The smell is getting stronger." I inhaled deeply, and the stench of the swamp was stronger. I hadn't noticed. "It might be the giant tortoise again stirring up the swamp waters nearby," Brutus said hopefully.
"Should we wake everyone?" I asked, trying to find movement.
Brutus started to say, "Yes," then the alarm went up on the other side of the camp. Metal banging together. "Go help them. I will watch this side of the island so we don't get attacked from behind." I hesitated for a moment before running through the camp to the other sentry position. The tents were stirring as I passed them.
A scream of pain from where I was running to, "It has got me! Cut it!" I hurried, thinking it was a giant frog tongue pulling a man to a watery grave again. I took my light stone and threw it toward the screams for help. What I saw did not make sense to my eyes.
A mound of vegetation had wrapped wrist-thick vines around a man's legs and was pulling the man toward itself. He had lost his bow and was stabbing the vines with a dagger. To my left, the other pair of sentries was hacking away with short swords at a similar mound of plant mass. The swamp thing was attacking us like in a bad horror movie from Earth. I ran and stabbed the body of the one pulling the archer in. He screamed at me, "Cut the fucking vines!"
He was only a few feet from the body of the monster. The tents were lit with glowstones, and the other men would be here soon to help. I started stabbing the vines pulling him, but it did not break them. His foot reached the mound, and the vegetation moved aside for his foot to be pulled inside. Glow stones were tossed around the fight, and two men appeared next to me and began to hack the vines with swords. Chunks of gooey plant parts started flying off the creature from the assault.
We were making progress. A vine lashed out from the creature and slammed down into a swordsman's shoulder with an audible crack. His knees buckled, and he dropped his short sword and struggled to pull a dagger with his other arm. Finally, Mage Durandus arrived and moved to cast a spell at our creature. A lightning bolt flared in front of me, blinding me and forcing me back a step with a minor clap of thunder.
"No lightning," rang across from a soldier in the other fight. "It is a shambler. Lightning only heals it!"
I was blinded but heard the mage swear, "Damn it, shambling mounds, should have known."
I stepped away as I attempted to find my sight by blinking rapidly and listening to the struggle. The loudest sound was the scream of the archer being pulled in, and I could hear his bones breaking. I blinked my sight back to see the man inside the mound, his body crushed in the mass. His screams mercifully ended when a vine forced its way into his mouth, filling his throat.
I could see the frost on the ground as the mage started to freeze the creature as he had done with the storm giant. The creature tried to lash out at the remaining swordsman, with the archer's life now ended in its body. Brutus yelled from the other side of the clearing, "Got another one over here!"
With my spear ineffectual, I grabbed the short sword from the legionary who dropped his when the vine whip had broken his shoulder. The mage had frozen the creature and was out of his range, so I rushed to help Brutus. On the other side of the camp, the creature was dripping with swamp water as it moved onto land. Brutus' light stone shadowed the mound to make it look even more menacing.
Brutus was backing up toward the camp, not engaging. He looked at me, "How is it on the other side?"
I told him, "Mage Durandus has one captured in ice, and the others are hacking the other one."
"I do not know much about these things," he admitted. Our scout was the one that knew lightning healed them. "What do you say we keep backing up until we reach the others for help?"
"That sounds like a bloody brilliant plan," I remarked at the smartest thing I had heard in a while.
Another man was grappled and pulled inside one of the creatures. They couldn't kill it fast enough, and the mage was occupied freezing the other one. His panicked cries and then screams ended in under a minute.
We backed halfway to the others when the fighting started to die. A call that it was dead reached us. Mage Durandus yelled his creature was contained and for everyone to finish off the one in camp.
Mage Durandus came to our aid first, and the ground frosted over as he began his spell. Soon, we all surrounded the creature and waited for the limbs of vine-like limbs to freeze before hacking them off. I joined in, and soon, the mound was nothing but a big pile of green vines and sap. We were all sweaty and covered in the sticky goo. Another victory in defeat—two men lost to gruesome deaths.
The scout said, "The frozen one is still alive. We should hack it to pieces."
Durandus countered the order, "No, it is more likely to give an essence if it is alive." He took out his plate-sized essence collector and placed it over the pile of goo. It flared for a moment, but nothing formed. He frowned. He moved to the other mound, and our group of seven moved with him. This hacked mound also gave nothing but a flash.
"Damn it. It should have given something!" Durandus voiced angrily. I think because the soldier was trapped in the remains, he thought either the shambling mound or the dead soldier would have yielded something. His last hope was the living mound, frozen in place with a body trapped inside.
The scout advised, "Durandus, we should just hack it to pieces before you attempt your harvest."
He waved him aside, "It is contained. If the ice casing cracks, you all can move in and slash it to death." We all moved in close, and I was facing the trapped man whose face was twisted in pain and agony with a vine shoved into his throat. That could have been me.
Durandus placed held the disc out and began the process. Apparently, it took longer on living creatures because it was still glowing after a few seconds. The mage's face was expectant and smiling. That was when the ice coating shattered, and a heavy vine instantly slammed into his body and threw him out into the swamp. A heartbeat later, we were hacking away at the not-so-frozen creature.
The scout yelled, "Brutus, go get the mage. Eryk, use a potion on him! Go!!"
I didn't tell him all I had were ten cure poison and two stamina potions remaining. I just moved with Brutus into the water. I hoped there were no more of these creatures. I still had my dimensional trick, at least. "How far did he fly?" I asked.
"Don't know, space out about ten feet, and we will walk away to look. Walk slow and stay alert." I took out a glow stone and held it high as we walked in waist-deep water. We were almost thirty feet from shore, and the safety of being in a group. My anxiety grew, and a silvery reflection at my feet startled me. It was the essence collector. I oriented my dimensional space to the area and moved it into my space without bending and going into the water to pick it up.
A minute later and almost seventy feet from shore, we found Mage Durandus floating face down. Brutus hesitated and then waded toward him and flipped him over. "He is dead. Must have been knocked unconscious and drowned. Terrible fate for a water mage, to drown." He did not sound too disappointed. I thought the mage's death was karmic.
Shambling Mound Monster:
Chapter 33: Collecting the Collector A Soldier's Life
Ranobes
Chapter 33
Watery blood filled Durandrus' mouth as he floated between us. "Do we bring him to shore?" I asked Brutus.
Brutus considered and searched him. He found the mage's pouch with essences he had accumulated and a small coin pouch. He considered for a long moment before saying, "Shit. Damn, Truthseekers would talk the theft out of us if we took anything. Let's bring him to shore and see what Flavius wants to do."
We floated the body to shore, and men came and helped us drag him up to the center of the small island. They had already buried their companion's two bodies in the island's soft soil. Flavius was the archer-trained scout who was taking command of the remaining men. He looked at the body and just rasped angrily, "Greedy bastard. It finally bit him in the ass." He looked up and addressed everyone, "Ok, we are going to haul the body back to the road." He picked up the mage's pouches. The essences will be divided among us, and the coin will be sent to his estate. Did you find the collector?" He asked Brutus and I.
Brutus answered, "No, could have gone anywhere. Eryk was holding the glowstone aloft the entire time we searched, and we didn't see anything." I kept a straight face, and Flavius grunted.
"Ok, we will search for the collector in the morning. If we don't find it by mid-day we will head to the road," Flavius announced. He pulled the string on the essence sack. "Since essences collected on campaigns are administered at the discretion of the commanding officer in the Legion, I will be handing these out!" There was a chorus of affirmations as the seven of us circled around him.
Flavius took his cloak and placed it on the ground. He slowly dumped the marble-like essences onto the cloak. There were thirty-seven smaller marble-sized essences, three golf ball-sized essences, and seven more in between those sizes. "For those of you who have never consumed an essence before, the small ones are minor essences, the middle-sized ones are major essences, and the three large balls are apex essences. Each one is ten times more valuable than the prior. Now these," he took the three apex essences, "are required to be turned into the Empire." He moved them back into the pouch.
Someone asked why, and Flavius replied, "First Citizen privilege. They buy them all to use amongst themselves. You don't want a Truthseeker asking you if you consumed one. Although working for Durandus these last few months, the laws are pretty loose." There were murmurs of agreement among everyone. He had taken the apex essence of the storm giant and consumed it right away, and that must have been his pattern in the past.
"Now the question is most of these minor essences are from our comrades. Do we want to consume them or return them to their families?" Flavius asked us. An argument ensued. Two men really wanted to consume them, and two wanted to return them to their families, not that we could tell which essence belonged to whom. In the end, we added one minor essence to each of bag of personal possessions—leaving nine small essences and seven medium.
Flavius continued, "The color of the essence determines which aspect of self it is related to. The darker colors are all physical traits. The lighter colors are the mental aspects."
Flavius slowly went through the colors from memory:
Strength
Dark Purple
Intellect
Light Purple
Power
Dark Orange
Reasoning
Light Orange
Quickness
Dark Green
Perception
Light Green
Dexterity
Dark Yellow
Insight
Light Yellow
Endurance
Dark Blue
Resilience
Light Blue
Constitution
Dark Red
Empathy
Light Pink
Coordination
Dark Pink
Fortitude
Light Red
(note to readers I will go back and make sure earlier chapters are consistent with this)
Of the nine small essences, four were dark purple strength, two dark red constitution, and three dark orange power. The seven larger, major essences were five dark purple strength, one pink empathy, and one dark pink coordination.
Curious, "I asked what about magic-related statistics?"
Flavius thought for a moment. He slowly spoke, "I think aether essences are a milky pearl-like. Channeling I have seen before. They are glossy black. The others," he focused and shook his head. "I read it too long ago to remember. I just remember one was clear like glass."
"What was the one Durandus consumed from the storm giant?" Another legionnaire asked.
"Probably the common lightning affinity. I did not see it. All the magic affinities have some glow and animation to them. These physical and mental," he indicated the ones on the cloak, "Only glow softly in the dark."
Everyone looked anxious. Flavius said, "We will pull chips for the order of selection. Once for the lesser and once for the major. The two extra lesser extra will be determined by the lowest two chips on the third pull."
The chips ended up being a deck of cards with the Roman numerals on them from a pack. One through seven was pulled. I pulled six for the lesser essence. On my turn, I took the dark orange essence for power. The next draw was for the lowest number. I got one, but it did not matter; only strength essence remained, so I took one. The final draw was for the major essence, and this was the big one. I wanted the pink coordination essence, but I drew the number five.
Brutus got a two on the draw, and when his turn came, I offered, "Brutus, I will trade my two minor essences and my fifth selection for your turn?"
Everyone listened as Brutus asked, "Which one are you planning to select?"
With all eyes on me, I said, "The pink coordination." Flavius' eyes betrayed him, and he had also planned to select that. I did not get a read on the others. Brutus nodded slowly and handed me his card, and I gave him my card and the two essences. I selected the pink essence and put it into my mouth immediately. As it dissolved, it had a salty taste to it, but it may have just been the dried sweat from the hands of the people handling it. The familiar cold, tingly lighting washed through my body.
Others started putting their own essence into their mouth, and I almost warned them about taking multiple ones. I think some people planned to sell them, or maybe they worried about consuming the essence of a fallen comrade. When the selection ended, Flavious announced, "It is a half-day trip to the road. It is going to be much more difficult without Durandus to guide us. Get six hours of rest, and then we will pack quickly and search for the collector in the light. Eryk and Brutus, you are on watch for the first two hours."
I was about to say something but then remembered while everyone had been fighting, we had been back peddling and drawing the third shambling mound toward the others. We did the least amount of fighting of everyone here. As I stood in the morning's light, standing back to back with Brutus, I asked, "Are essences important? Are they the soul of the being you take them from?"
Brutus answered slowly, "Some people think so. The orcs in the west in the Boutan Caliphate, for one. They consider it a great honor to consume the essence of their conquered enemy. The teachings of the Telhian Empire are that a person's essence is sacred before they die. Once they die, the essence is for their family to do with what they will. Usually, it is used to strengthen the children if it is collected."
A few men started snoring, and we could see the larger insects going to feast on the corpses of the monsters. I asked, "Why was everyone so upset when Durandus harvested the bodies of the men?"
"Because he would have sold it and not given them to the families," Brutus said steelily. "In the Empire, it is also not common practice to harvest your own men, even in times of war. Outside of Legion Mages and Mages of the College, only the Temple of Minerva has priests with collectors within the Empire."
"How do Legion Mages get away with harvesting people and consuming apex essences?" I asked, trying to understand, and listening keenly.
"The mages of the Legion and the Mage College are the true power of the Empire. Anyone that can learn true spell casting is revered," Brutus said, surprised. "How is it in your home country?"
I panicked because I didn't know how they treated mages in the Duchy of Tsingia. I could only find the country on a map and knew they exported lumber. I had not told anyone in this company where I was from, so maybe I could just make something up. "The same. The mages are a class above the common folk in Tsingia."
"Tsingia? You are a long way from home. What brought you up here? There are a lot of foreign men in the army, but they are uncommon in the Legion ranks," Brutus said, and I could hear the curiosity in his voice.
"Bad luck. How about you? Why are you in the Legion?" I tried to focus the conversation on him.
"Me?" He laughed, "I am the bastard son of a bastard son of a Baron who owns nothing but barley and hops fields. I was taught to fight, and rather than join the Baron's guard, I joined the Legion. It pays better, and I will get my pension after twenty years."
"Pension?" I asked, turning to face him.
"Yes. You continue to draw your weekly salary bi-annually. Did you not know? Are you a conscript, then? I think you are still eligible. When I retire, I will find a wife and raise Tegairosian goats." He smacked his lips, "Their milk makes the most divine cheese."
I told him the truth, "I was railroaded into a guilty verdict and forced to join or work as a laborer."
"Railroaded?" Brutus asked, unfamiliar with the term.
I huffed, "It means I was given no other viable choice."
"Eryk, my friend, that describes most of the army and half the Legion," he laughed. "So you must have trained at western Legion camp then if you were conscripted?"
"I guess. No one told me what the camp was, and I was too focused on not getting sent to the army. How many camps are there to train legionnaires?" I inquired of my new friend.
"Just two. The western camps and the camp in the capital for the volunteers," Brutus informed me. We were silent till we were relieved.
When we were called off watch, and two men took our place. I packed up my things rather than get four hours of sleep in the hot, sticky weather. The sun was out today, and it was going to be a miserable walk through the swamp to the road.
The others who had not been on watch wrapped the mage tightly with his personal possessions. They made small floats from empty canteens to tie to the body. I retrieved some glow stones that were abandoned due to their weight to bring the total in my dimension space to eleven. Flavius asked if I could take some of the dead men's personal possessions into my space since they were small but heavy bags, and I agreed.
Flaviud declared the sun was high enough to search for the essence collector, and we walked a grid pattern with everyone in the area where the body was found. I asked Flavius, "Why is this so important? Doesn't the Empire have dozens of these things?"
Flavius clucked irritated, "That was not a normal collecter. It was a dungeon-created one. Smaller, lighter, and supposedly more efficient than most. Like all dungeon artifacts, its value is hard to measure. It was Durandus' most prized possession as well. His brother is going to want it back as well."
I looked questioningly at him, and he clarified the misunderstanding, "Durandus' brother is a mage in charge of another company. I only met him once, and he has the most foul temper. While Durandus was self-serving, he was not cruel. His brother is."
We searched till mid-day like Flavius promised. Then we marked the island, and the direction the body was found in case someone wanted to try their luck in the future. Flavius thought the Legion might send a mage to search or even Durandus' brother would come himself.
We moved in a diamond formation through the swamp. Floating the body in the center with three men ready to respond in any direction. It was a painfully slow process as we were weighed down with too much gear to swim, so we had to find paths no deeper than the chest. Even with the man in the lead having a spear to check the depth, he sometimes stumbled and fell into deep water. It was a rush to save him from drowning every time. After the first incident, we tied a ten-foot rope to the lead man to help with the rescue. I was lucky, as I was never asked to be the lead man in the diamond formation with a spear checking the depth.
We got lucky and only encountered one giant frog and that was when we were resting on an island. A man was grabbed but resisted being pulled inside the maw of the frog. We swarmed the frog and slew it. I twitched slightly since I had an essence collector now and could have used it on the frog. From the collector's noted value, I decided to keep my possession of it secret.
The sun was already setting when we reached the road, and our wet and sore bodies collapsed into the rocky dirt. It had taken much longer than we thought it would, and we all had twice as much gear as when we started. Flavius said we had arrived but had come out on the road too far south. We didn't rest long before Flavius had us moving again north toward a comfortable bed.
A half mile later, we approached an area of charred bodies in the dark. They were all frogs, and this was where we had left the men to guard the discarded gear. The gear and the men that Durandus left behind were not there. "They must have returned to Macha," Flavius announced. "A bath and bed are close men. Just a few more hours." Our spirits rose even though we knew we still had miles to go.
Chapter 34: Spa Day A Soldier's Life
Ranobes
Chapter 34
Our soaked and filth-covered bodies walked down the road. Four men carried the mage in a litter made from two spears. We rotated carrying him as night set in, and the watery Blue Moon bathed us in its light. Every man had a glowstone ready to be released to illuminate a foe if one showed itself. Flavius had us moving quickly, and the city walls came into view after a time. Relief flooded my own body at the sight.
I had turned over a lot of thoughts in my mind on the sojourn back. Should I have revealed myself and risked myself to kill the storm giant with my dimensional space? Men would have lived, and Durandus would probably be alive. The horror of the speed at which the storm giant killed almost twenty shield and spear men flashed through my mind. Experienced men. No, I would have most likely died if I had tried to get close enough. The storm giant was twenty-five feet tall. I could not have displaced enough of his body to win the fight in a single blow.
We reached the gate, breaking my thoughts, and Flavius yelled up to the tower, "Durandus' company is returning!"
"Gates do not open for anyone until first light. Order of the general!" came a return shout.
Flavius swore, "Dragon's Breath! Seven men with the body of a mage. Open the gates, or I will rip them off their hinges and beat you senseless with it!"
There was a lot of movement in the tower, and then a different soldier weakly said, "They went to wake and check with the general. Just a few moments, legionnaire."
It was closer to fifteen minutes before the gatehouse door swung open, and a man strode out half-dressed, "What is this? Durandus is dead?" his voice was coated with disbelief, anger, and worry.
Flavius said, "I will report to the Legion command. May we enter, general?" It was not a question, as we just started walking past. The general swore and cursed his men for not letting us in right away, but it appeared more of an act to appease us.
I had a long walk all the way to the other side of the city to reach the villa in the inner orchard. As I passed the upper city baths, I checked to see if they were open. The door was not locked, but there was no one around. I helped myself to soap and a scrubber as I went into the shower and scrubbed the filth off. The water heading to the drain remained murky with dirt for long periods. I located dozens of bug bites I never remembered receiving.
Whenever I thought the water was clear, I would find another patch or crevasse of dirt. My hair was terrible, a greasy, dirty mess that had gotten too long. The members of Dureandus' legion had all been clean-shaven when we started. I was the misfit with the poorly trimmed beard. I had seen numerous barbers, so maybe I could do that in the morning. Finally, sure I was clean, I moved to the baths. They were not heated, having cooled to a lukewarm temperature overnight. I relaxed into the water, not caring, and promptly fell asleep.
I was awakened by a trio of young women whispering and staring at me. I remembered that they were the group of women that took my clothes and washed them last time. The water had cooled even further. I spoke clearly, "My clothes can be burned, but my armor needs washing." I placed seven silver coins on the lip of the large communal tub. "Turn the heat on for the water, wash my armor, and get me a new set of clothes. Do a good job, and there is a silver tip for each of you."
One of the braver women came forward and took the silver. "We will turn on the heater runes, legionnaire." She was young, in her late teens, with dirty blonde hair and soft freckles, pretty in an average way. It had been too long since I had been with a woman, and my desire rose, and I embarrassingly hid it.
I felt guilty of the impropriety of it. "Bring me a double breakfast and see if a barber will service me while I soak," I asked another young woman.
She nodded, "We just prepare and clean the baths up in the morning. The mistress should be here shortly, legionnaire."
I groaned inwardly as I was expecting a verbal fight with the woman for breaking into the baths in the middle of the night. My skin was pruned, but I promptly fell asleep again as the water heated up from whatever magic did it.
I was awoken as two of the young women came in carrying trays of food and drink, and a much older woman followed, showing signs of gray. She had a tight and unhappy face. Hopefully, coin would solve whatever blunder I had made. She said, "You entered my baths past the curfew, legionnaire. Care to explain yourself?" No, not really, I thought.
I inhaled and spoke slowly, "I was filthy after almost dying a half dozen times in the last two days." It was closer to a dozen times in the last week. "I needed a bath, and your doors were open. I have paid for my time in the water and will pay that again if I leave here happy."
"He paid seven silver, mistress," one of the younger women said, trying to help.
The mistress softened. She still did not look pleased but consented to my presence, "Very good then. Your barber will be sent for," she hesitated. "You will pay him from your own pocket." She left, and I dug into the food and drink. Warm wine, fruit, somewhat stale bread, herb-infused butter, and something that appeared to be fresh hummus. I did not taste it as I consumed everything.
I suddenly realized something. After the man had been caught by the frog while shitting, I unconsciously held it in on the return through the swamp. I rushed out of the water to the privy as I urgently needed to make room for the massive quantity of food and wine I had just consumed.
A voice echoed outside the privy, "Your barber is here." It was one of the young women who was giggling at the embarrassing noises I was making.
I finished up, and a middle-aged man smiled as he spoke, "My services are yours."
"Clean shave, hair cut and..." I almost added an eyebrow sculpt, but that was a vanity from a different life.
The shave was done with a foamy mixture that smelled of sandalwood. He used a straight razor, and he shaved my neck first. Having another man go across your throat with a blade is a different experience. He probably sensed my unease as he started talking about his family. The shave was finished, and he applied a balm. The scent was beeswax and cocoa butter. I asked, "What is in this?"
"Aloe, jojoba oil, shea butter, and honey bee wax dissolved in chamomile extract," he replied as he combed and cut my hair. I relaxed, feeling months of growth being removed. Most legion companies were clean-shaven and well-groomed when I saw them in the few cities I had been to. Castille seemed to let us do whatever we pleased. It was like we were the black sheep of the Mage Legions.
When he finished, he used a mirror to show me, which I liked. My off-black hair was finger-length and styled. I asked, "How much for the shave and your entire kit?" He looked confused, as he put his tools away in a large leather satchel. "You have another set at your business, I assume?" I added.
"Yes, but these are my traveling set," he said worriedly.
"How much to replace them?" I asked, not relenting.
He looked in his bag slowly and added up the value. "Seventy silver," He looked at me.
I pulled a gold coin from nowhere and handed it to him, "This should be enough then?"
He still did not look happy at losing his profession's tool set. He said, "I forgot the perfume. It is worth half a gold on its own, and I only use it on my female clients."
Rather than argue, I said, "You can keep the perfume." He finally nodded, somewhat happier as he pulled it out and took the gold coin. He walked out in kind of a daze, like he lost something precious to him. I was alone in the room, and the leather satchel went into my dimensional space.
Personal grooming was in my future. I realized I was accepting my new life. I had not realized up till the bath, but the shock and changes had greatly diminished my desires. Now, they seemed to be returning. There was still no way I was visiting a brothel. I walked to the open dressing room to find my armor clean and oiled and a set of new linen clothes folded neatly next to it.
They were not as heavy as the canvas ones that were normal Legion wear but would work for now. I dressed and found the older woman in charge. I had to change a gold coin for silver since I only had one silver left. I gave her ten silver, seven as agreed, and one silver for each of the three young women as promised. After nearly dying, spending what wealth you had was easy. Enjoy it while you can—I think I was developing a soldier's mentality.
The sun was mid-morning when I reached the orchard. I was whistling the Star Wars theme song as I entered the villa. No one was in the entry hall, so maybe they had gone off patrol or wall duty? I had no idea what day it was. I went into the large ballroom where most of the beds were set up and found five men resting. One sat up, and it was Felix. "What the fuck? Have you come back to frigging haunt us?"
"No. I just got a shave and haircut," I said, trying to sound offended.
Felix shook his head in disbelief. "They said Durandus' company was decimated, and they returned in the middle of the night. That was like ten hours ago. Castille, Delmar, and Adrian went to question the survivors. Since you didn't return here and we didn't get a runner, we all thought you were dead."
"The reports of my demise are greatly exaggerated," I quipped.
Firth came out from the kitchen, "You better get your arse to the Legion Hall in the city. Castille is going to rip you a new one for not coming directly to her when you returned."
"Shit." I dropped my armor, spears and gear and took off running.
Chapter 35: Tribunal and Judgement A Soldier's Life
Ranobes
Chapter 35
As I made my way back at a steady run through the city to the Legion Hall, I planned to tell Castille I returned late and didn't want to wake her. Or maybe I should just go with the truth and tell her I fell asleep. I had planned to tell Delmar or Adrian when I returned to the villa, but now I was up shit's creek without a paddle. Two legion men stood guard as I entered and slowed to a walk. At least I had built up a significant sweat in the morning humid weather, so it looked like I had rushed here. In the common room, I found everyone.
Flavius and the five men were seated at a long, dark oak table. Across from them, Adrian and Delmar stood behind Castille, and two men I didn't recognize sat with her. One of them was definitely the commander of the other mage company, as he had the same rank symbols as Castille. I slowed and realized I was not even breathing heavily from the sprint of nearly a mile, so I faked some heavy breathing. All eyes were on me, and I guiltily noted all the men I had returned with still wore filthy clothes and were caked in mud. I could even smell their unwashed bodies from twenty feet away as it filled the room.
Mage Castille did not look angry, but maybe she did look amused at my entrance and appearance. It was the man who I couldn't place who spoke, "Are you legionnaire Eryk?"
"I am." I came to what was attention for being in a Legion formation.
The other mage who I did not recognize, said, "Since we do not have a Truthseeker here, let us confirm their story with him and close the matter. The defensive plans for the city are in turmoil without Durandus and his men. We need to start planning and make a request for another mage from the Legatus Legonis."
Castille didn't seem to care at his words and studied me. The first man spoke irritably, "He has repeatedly denied my requests for a fourth mage company. I do not think he will send anyone, Gregor."
The mage, who I assumed was named Gregor, replied, "We must ask. Durandus was the center of our defense planning. Neither I nor mage Castille can handle the load on the defense."
Castille stopped them both with a slap of the table. She focused on me, "Tell us about the storm giant attack Eryk. In your own words. And be brief." Her eyes told me she did not have patience today.
I relaxed slightly as it appeared my mage commander was not directing anger at me. "Durandus got us there, and we found the storm giant digging. He waited until the giant was resting. Maybe he thought the giant was out of aether. I don't know. He sent the shield wall supported by the spearmen to attack it and distract it while our swordsmen and archers flanked it. The storm giant called down lightning, and it had no effect. The giant charged the shieldmen when Durandus tried to encase him in ice. The giant plowed through the spearman, casting them aside to get to Durandus. I think Durandus thought his shield spell would protect him from any attack."
I took a moment to remember. "It did, but the giant's sword launched the mage 150 feet, his protective ball intact. I don't know when it failed, but he hit the ground and was knocked out. The giant blew apart the archer formation with a lightning bolt. And proceeded to kill all the shield and spear men."
Mage Gregor asked with narrowed eyes, "And what were you doing during all this?"
"I used some potions on the archers and then rushed to give Durandus some healing potions. It got him up again, and he was able to immobilize the giant, and we were eventually victorious. Durandus collected the essence of the giant and consumed it immediately," I ended the bloody tale quickly.
Mage Gregor asked, "And where is the essence collector, legionnaire?"
I was not sure if this was a trap or not. So, I choose my words carefully. "We fought something called a shambling mound on the return trip. The mage thought he had immobilized the last creature and was going to take its essence. It surprised him and threw him into the swamp with the device. We think he was knocked unconscious and drowned. The next day we all," I indicated the six men, "spent hours searching for it. During the search, we couldn't find a trace of it in the swamp." This was true since I had put it in my space when Brutus and I found Durandus' body.
Gregor seemed agitated, his eyes narrowed and brightened slightly, "I want his dimensional pocket searched!"
Mage Castille got angry, "He is under my command authority and does not have to submit to a search from you."
"I want him searched as well," the other man added. I was confused. Was he a mage too? Castille looked at him and was not happy. Gregor had a smug look on his face from this victory. This must be some type of power struggle now that Durandus was dead. The man continued, "Castille, you called the mage tribunal. That is two votes to one." I guessed then that he was also a mage but did not command a legion company. Well, if they could force open my dimensional space, I was fucked. I had a few hundred pounds of supplies in there—and the collector.
Castille looked hard at me, no sympathy but maybe regret. "Eryk empty your space on the table. You bring the wetted sand," she pointed to a legionnaire by the door.
Confused, I walked towards the table of tribunal members and put the four potion trays on the table. Only the ten of the cure poison remained. I looked at Adrian and Delmar who had impassive faces but made eye contact with me. Their eyes seemed curious. I decided to add all my coins as well. Three gold, ninety-one silver, and twenty-eight copper. A wheelbarrow of wet sand was rolled in. Castille said, "Fill your dimensional space with the sand, Eryk." This was the test?
Thankfully, I had taken the box in the Varvao baths. I moved to the wheelbarrow, outlined the section of sand I wanted, and moved it inside the box in the dimensional space. Castille nodded regretfully, "Good. Put the contents of your space again on the table—everything. And then move back," Castille ordered.
A block of wet sand appeared, and it maintained its shape. I moved to stand behind the Durandus' men again. A giddy Gregor started carefully cutting through the sand in slices with a long, thin dagger. After he had finished, the third mage asked, "Any voids in the sand?" Gregor threw a handful of sand across the table in frustration. Castille seemed shocked nothing was found as well. Did she already think I was hiding something? Well, I was hiding a lot of somethings.
Castille relaxed and smirked, "I will note that Eryk does not have the collector then. And Gregor, even if the collector was here, Durandus' brother has a claim to it." I felt a chill because it appeared the collector was valuable enough to be wanted by a lot of people.
I do not know why I asked, but I did, "Why is it so valuable?"
The three mages turned toward me, and Delmar grinned at my idiocy for interrupting and asking. Castille answered without drawing out the drama. "It always yields an essence in a dungeon from any creature. Durandus' made most of his wealth from it."
I played stupid, "Should we have spent longer looking?" Flavius, who was sitting with his back to me, twitched.
"Yes. You should have!" Gregor barked. My thought was mages are all kind of bitchy. Even though my company was known to lose a fair amount of men, at least Castille seemed reasonable.
The questioning of me turned to the fight with the shambling mounds, and I answered two dozen questions consistent with what I remembered of the attack and Durandus' death. I even told them about the company dividing up the essences, minus the three apex ones. Finally, Castille announced, "It is ruled Durandus died by his own stupidity." Gregor reluctantly seconded, and the other man confirmed. Castille scribbled out the verdict on a parchment and rolled it up. I assumed it to be an official record of how the mage died.
Castille stood, "You six will be divided among the two companies. Eryk, see Adrian before heading to get some sleep." Castille walked out. The other two mages went their separate ways as well.
Delmar scooped up my coin and walked to me with Adrian. He grinned as he approached, "Damn, Eryk. We sent word to the villa that you were dead. We didn't know until the trial started you still lived from the men under questioning." He clapped me on my back.
"Yeah, I stopped at the baths and fell asleep in the water," I said, and Delmar just shook his head in disbelief.
"There is fifty-five silver in your room at the villa from the snake hide. You may have to kick someone out of the room when you get back—after all, they thought you were dead," he chuckled.
"I actually was up there, and they told me to come down here," I admitted.
"Well, since you are all prettied up, I am assuming you plan to go make a dalliance or two," Delmar handed me my coin slowly. "But you did not pack my spinnerets out of the mountains. He took one gold coin from my stash," smiling as he did so and leaving me with Adrian. Damn, I was hoping he had forgotten about that. He paid me a gold coin to pack his monster parts out of the mountains, but I had been tasked to carry the First Citizen's gear instead.
Adrian stood in front of me and asked, "Castille wanted me to ask you about the remaining men from Durandus' company. Any good legionaries among them?"
I nodded, thinking, "Flavius. He was one of the archers but also a trained scout. He was the only one who knew about the shambling mounds. He told Durandus that lightning healed them after he attacked. Brutus is the only other one I talked to at any length. He is a good fighter and has some smarts. When the mounds attacked one side of the camp, he remained on watch on the other side, and a third one did show itself, so he prevented us from being attacked from behind."
I added, watching the men mill about in the Legion common room awaiting their fate, "They generally were not too welcoming to outsiders. The six men that we left on the road with our gear—I did not talk with any of them."
Adiran heaved a breath, "Durandus' company was made of volunteers, not conscripts. They chose the life in the Legion. They trained at the Legion Camp just outside of the capital. When they complete their training and are assigned a Mage or duty, all the missions would be within the confines of the interior of the Empire and not on the borders."
He considered my words for a moment longer, "So, just the two? No others?" I nodded; he turned and left to talk to the filthy men. He yelled to me as I was almost to the door, "Be careful, where you spend your coin, Eryk. According to the Firth, there is an epidemic of crotch crickets in the city."
Crotch crickets? I didn't ask. I was exhausted and needed some sleep. I made my way to the villa and found my gear where I had dropped it. In my tiny room, I found the fifty-five silver on the desk, and my things looked to be in the exact same place as I left them. I locked the door, barred the window, pulled my griffin feather pillow out of my storage, and collapsed on my bed. I was asleep in seconds.