Sir Lucius Alden

A tiger in wait, is never idle.

Part I

-They’ll still serve an Alden-

Lucius jumped over a sharp boulder spear in hand, landed on a muddy slope –lots of snow mixed in- and lost his footing for a heartbeat. Found it a stride later, boots gliding on sludge and rotten black grass and stopped -breathing hard- to listen for sounds.

The Direwolf had made it in the white-bark trees, it seems, he thought with a grimace, long beard dancing under his face. Lucius heard a clatter, some small branch snapping straight ahead and rushed inside the frozen forest. The summer in the North, what most people in Regia would call a heavy winter without hesitation.

The heir to Regia ducked under a low-hanging limb, missed a cracked tree trunk for a hair and then slowed down realizing he’d no idea where he was heading. Was the beast leading him into a trap in its turn? He wondered.

He swung around hearing heavy footsteps approaching, but saw nothing and by the time Lucius turned his head again a giant mass of white fur came out the tight row of trees, branches snapping, or outright exploding and came after him.

Eternal damnation!

Lucius twisted his body around, spear slashing at the air, but realizing he’d break it on the huge bear’s head, he pulled it back mid-move. The beast growled stopping a couple of meters from his spot and rose up on its hind legs towering almost a meter over him.

This was the biggest bear Lucius had ever seen.

Granted he’d only seen two in his life and one of them was a cub, but still this thing was three meters tall at least. The bear growled again and Lucius took a step back to reassess the situation. The beast not keen on letting him work on a plan, followed after him walking on its hind legs with ease.

Gods in heavens.

“HEY!” Lucius barked to gauge its reaction. “Take a swipe, what do you say?”

The bear gave him no reply, but it did test his defenses with a swing that would have taken half his face off, had he stood idle. Lucius didn’t. He dodged right instead and under it, claws like daggers whistling over his head. Bloodied in the Direwolf’s gore. Lucius had interrupted this beast’s dinner it seemed.

He landed on a knee, damn thing still not fully healed and groaned through clenched teeth. The bear snorted and dropped on all fours to charge at him, infuriated at the near miss. Now, Lucius thought, praying the old trick would work again and turned just as the huge animal reached him. The head on it the size of a wagon’s wheel, mouth wide enough to swallow his head whole and probably an arm, shoulder still attached on it.

The bear swallowed Lucius spear instead, the steel tip tearing through as far as its gullet. Lucius gasped feeling the weight of the beast in full, a claw digging on his left shoulder through plate, mail and gambeson, rattling him. Hot blood splattering his face. The bear gurgled spraying more of it, the massive weight all on his spear that moved slowly deeper into its head and Lucius shaking shoulders.

Then its gnarly mouth closed in a final act of defiance, snapping the shaft in two and the huge predator fell on him. Lucius tried to hold it, but his knees buckled and he toppled backwards. He crashed on the ground, the dying bear on top of him, the beast’s blood in his eyes.

“Damn… you,” Lucius groaned, gulping at the beast’s gore, his muscles burning and feeling slowly being crashed by the weight, unable to breathe.

Someone yelled something he missed in his daze, ears ringing. Just as he was expecting to feel his own bones snapping under the weight, the bear moved again. Lucius muffled a groan, the shaft of his broken spear almost taking out his left eye and then the body of the animal was shoved aside.

A huge Northman appearing in its place.

Lucius blinked, mouth opening and closing to gulp down as much air as he could. He tried to speak, but his lungs were still not fully functioning and then the giant of a man stooped down and grabbed an arm to pull him upright.

Almost ripped it right out of its socket.

“Gah!” Lucius groaned and stumbled back, his knees weakened and rubbery. He coughed trying to clear his throat, the Northman looking at him bemused. Square head, over a square body. The shoulders massive and the arms the size of tree trunks.

“Ah, good grief,” Lucius managed to say and tossed the broken shaft away, immediately doubling over on his knees. “I think it broke my back.”

“What did?” The giant asked him. A good head taller than him at least. Red beard over a mess of unruly red hair.

Lucius frowned, still gasping and rattled from the encounter. He pointed incredulous at the massive body of the bear.

“That thing?”

“An ice bear,” The Northman said perturbed.

“Nice?”

“Ice,” The big man grinned. “It’s a small one,” He chuckled at the end of it. “But lots of good meat. We should share.”

Lucius coughed again, then cleared his throat, since the cough hadn’t done the job proper and slowly stood up straighter, the cut on his shoulder hurting.

“I’m Lucius Alden,” He managed to say. “Reckon you saved my life. So you can keep the meat.”

“The bear was dead,” The Northman disagreed. “I just pushed it aside.”

Lucius nodded.

“What’s your name big guy?”

“Layton,” The Northman replied with a goofy smile. “And I ain’t big. Yer just small.”

“Lord Alden!” Galio thundered seeing him and rushed towards them, with Mamercus following bow in hand. “Stand back you!” He ordered seeing Layton, huge bloody axe in hand.

“Who?” Layton asked and stared at him.

“It’s fine captain,” Lucius said and glaring at Mamercus, sneakily lining up a shot at the Northman, he added. “Put that thing away!”

Mamercus lowered his bow.

“Milord, you’re injured!” Galio said staring at his shoulder.

“The bear did it. This man helped me out of a bind.”

“Who are you?” Mamercus asked, eyeing the big Northman suspiciously. “The fuck are you wearing?”

“Layton,” The Northman replied and looking at his haphazardly made of pelts garbs, he added. “It’s a coat.”

“No its not,” Mamercus countered. “What did you use for it?”

“A den of wolves?” Layton replied unsure. “Only the skin and fur. Ate the meat.”

“Right,” Lucius intervened to end the awkward conversation. “I’ll need a bath and medical attention gentlemen,” He paused with a grimace of pain. “And my horse, I’m not walking back to Mazza.”

“What about him?” Galio asked, aged face scrunching this way and that.

Lucius stared at the huge Northman hacking at the carcass of the bear.

“Are you going to come with us Layton?”

“What about the bear?” He asked, a heavy severed limb on his shoulder.

“We have food aplenty in Mazza,” Lucius replied.

“Where’s that?”

“You’re not from around here?”

Layton blinked unsure.

Hmm.

“How about we get you a horse as well?” He offered.

“Can I eat it?”

Lucius smacked his lips. “Ride it, so you don’t walk,” He elucidated.

Layton guffawed, the prospect hilarious to him. “Sure. Though, I don’t mind walkin’. Being walkin’ for a season,” He paused perturbed, thinking about it. “Or more.”

“Where from?” Lucius asked him curious and the big Northman pointed a meaty finger to the North.

“Over yonder,” He said, adding with a deep frown. “Road wasn’t good, aye. Turned to bitter water. Layton almost drowned.”

Lucius looked at a troubled Galio and then at a dumfounded Mamercus. Seeing no one had any idea what the Northman was talking about, he decided to leave the matter for another day.

Kaeso was overseeing construction of the second part of the pontoon bridge, the first comprised of six boats already built. It was a simple design. Each boat was connected to the one next to it, leaving an almost two meters wide gap between them. Every six boats a deck was placed over them, connecting everything together and fastened with iron bolts. These six boats would then fastened to another six and so forth. Three parts in total.

Another longer deck was to connect all three thirty meters long separate parts, after they placed them in the water. The simple, but sturdy shallow-draft boats that would allow them to do it, was the first thing Lucius had asked Sam O’ Dargan to start building, before the winter ended.

Faye, long red hair reaching her shoulders gathered at the nape with a leather fastener, saw them approach on their mounts and stood up. She raised a red brow noticing his bandaged shoulder and then her eyes stopped at the comical figure of Layton riding his hapless horse. The animal barely taking his weight.

“Why, what do ye know? Three grown men got their arses licked by a Direwolf?” Faye taunted, as Lucius climbed down from Stormbolt. She reached with a hand to check on the wound.

“Just another scar,” Lucius replied to ease her worry and glanced at his escort. Galio and Mamercus murmured a quick greeting to Faye and took the horses to their stable, leaving an awkwardly standing Layton behind. He still carried that bear’s bloody massive leg on his shoulder. “And it was an ice bear apparently.”

“I see,” Faye murmured. “Most people don’t live to tell the tale, Alden.”

“I did, barely,” Lucius admitted.

“Ye brought a friend?”

“That’s Layton,” The giant raised a trunk-sized arm in greeting. “He kind of saved my sorry behind out there.”

“Yer behind is agreeable to me, so he’ll have my gratitude. First time in a burg big guy?” Faye asked, with a small smile Lucius much appreciated.

“Is this it?” Layton asked, always confused with simple queries.

“Last time I checked twas. What do you think?”

Lucius frowned at her questions.

“Lots of houses. Stinks of crap and food.”

“It does,” Faye replied. “How about we find ye some clothes?”

“I have a coat,” Layton replied and shifted the severed leg on his shoulder awkwardly.

“We can make ye something better. A pair of boots, a set of proper pants.”

“Sure. Where’s the food?” The big man asked.

“Follow me and I’ll show ye,” Faye replied and with a last look on Lucius face, she walked towards Layton.

“You’ll head to Taylor Gunn’s after?” Lucius asked her and she paused to cast him a teasing stare.

“I will. Did ye miss me Alden?”

Lucius shook his head at her little ritual.

“I did, especially with that bear.”

“I did too, but there was no bear to keep me company,” Faye retorted to his tease and walked away. Lucius watched her for a moment, tightly-fitted and oiled chainmail rustling as she walked away, her two swords worn crossed on her back.

He missed Kaeso sneaking up on him, the sound of hammers and saws playing one part in it, the other being all the Northern girl’s fault.

Ah, damn it.

“Milord,” Kaeso said. “Jarl David arrived this morning. He came to check on our work.”

“The old guy?”

“Ayup, seemed less than pleased. Though that could be his usual demeanor.”

“Did he say anything?” Lucius probed with a sigh. He had avoided traveling to Ludr, half of it guilt for failing to deliver Zofia, the other just him getting preoccupied with planning a crossing over Ludriver and staying near Faye.

She had sneaked up on him as well these past months. They tried to control it, keep everything professional, but for Lucius it was a losing battle. Perhaps it was just him being lonely after Roderick got killed at the Bridges and being almost a year away from Regia. He missed his family, Jeremy and little Silvie. Even his father’s disapproving stare truth be told.

Perhaps, and it’s a way to excuse it, he thought, missing the ex-legionnaire’s reply. But some of it is, you just like the woman.

It was as Roderick would have told him, as simple as that.

“What was that?” Lucius asked the shifty looking man, returning to the present.

“The Jarl asked for a meeting, milord. He’s at Sam’s longhouse.”

Lucius nodded. “I’ll see to it. After I check up on the smelters. When will the other two parts finish?”

“We have the boats ready. The decking is cut as we speak and it will be fitted by the end of the week. So to be safe, two weeks for the remaining parts.”

“How wide is the river there?” Lucius probed.

“Sixty, maybe seventy meters. Three parts will be enough, if the last is turned into a drawbridge.”

“Better have enough to spare, mister Kaeso,” Lucius told him. “It will be easier to secure it. Did you get the recipe for the cement right?”

“For the most part,” Kaeso replied, with a grin.

Lucius glared at him. “That’s not a phrase I much like soldier.”

“I was mixin’ the stuff milord,” Kaeso argued, doubling down per usual. “As punishment. I’m not an engineer.”

“Will it do the job?”

“With enough heavy chain and some boulders, it will. Iron and rocks aplenty here.”

“How long before the river wash it down?” Lucius asked.

“If the wood rots normally, until next Spring. A month is the bare minimum. How long do you need it for?”

Lucius grimaced, his shoulder bothering him. “I don’t know. But a month will have to suffice.”

Galio Veturius was watching Taylor Gunn, ‘the best smith this side of the North’ according to Sam O’ Dargan, hammering at the red hot metal plate a couple of times and then tossing the tool to his assistant. Both men muscular specimens, with bulging arms and necks.

“How is it going?” Lucius asked the aged captain.

“Ah, its hard work milord,” Galio replied, shaven face lined with scars and wrinkles from chin to forehead. “But it’s coming along nicely.”

“How many armour sets are complete?”

“Twenty. Three more will be finished today.”

Lucius had ordered the remaining mercenaries that had chosen to stay with him outfitted with new armor and weapons. The new sets based on the well-worn Legion armour Galio had on.

“You need to have a new helmet made,” He teased the old officer.

“Let’s get the lads outfitted first milord,” Galio replied. He’d taken a likening to the broken-spirited men and vowed to have them on their feet before the summer was over. Knowing him, Lucius didn’t doubt he would.

“Any new recruits?”

Galio glanced at him. “Half a dozen.”

“How many in total? I want them all fitted like a unit.”

“Fifty, but I have more than a dozen willing, I don’t think we should take.”

“Why?” Lucius asked. He needed more men trained in standard warfare. Northmen were good fighters, but didn’t have the flexibility Lucius was tutored on.

“Too young. Lads that Sam cut.”

“I want to see them myself,” Lucius decided and approached the hale smith. Tayler wiped his face with a dirty cloth, black beard laced with red, eyes a dark green. His mother was a Lorian maiden, the story Lucius had heard.

“Lord Lucius,” Taylor rustled in his baritone voice. “I wanted to show ye the finished product.”

“I can see it, master Gunn.”

The sets of armor were placed in rows at the back of his workshop. The place one of the biggest buildings in Mazza Burg.

“Made some changes to yer man’s design,” The smith explained walking him to the finished armor sets.

Lucius examined one of them. Segmented armor, consisting of metal strips fashioned into circular bands, fastened in turn to internal leather straps. The common name for this type was ‘Laminar Armour’, but the Legionnaires called it affectionately ‘the Lorica’, the ancient Lorian name for cuirass. The same technique, but out of bigger at the top, then smaller metal strips, was used to create the massive shoulder-guards starting at the collar and reaching just above the elbow. The whole cumbersome-looking armour being surprising light and covering the front and back of a warrior adequately.

Lucius quickly noticed that they all had an additional square piece of plate covering two of the front pieces right at the sternum.

“What’s with the plate?” Lucius asked him.

“I have ruined many a pieces, until I got the length and thickness right. The outer is harder, almost of steel quality, the inside of the lames is softer.” Gunn explained. It had taken him almost a month to produce the first one as a matter of fact. “Some of the plates I turned into an officer’s type.”

“What kind?”

“I’ll show you. The rest I thought of using as an extra layer for the warriors standing on the shieldwall.”

Right.

Lucius followed him at one of the benches. One of his assistants and Gunn had eight working for him, was polishing a metal armor. The shoulder pads curved out of solid plate and shaped into a tiger’s head. Ears, eyes and snout clearly visible.

Lucius nodded impressed, but Gunn stopped him and stooping got a set of long tongs out of the open forge. The piece of square metal at the end of it a bright and scorching yellow. He pressed the large branding iron like tool on the sternum plate of the armour and left it for several seconds, before retrieving it. Gunn returned it in the forge right away.

There was a tiger’s head engraved on that piece of plate now. This one was fully shown once the metal cooled some, the jaws wide open showing the prominent fangs in a menacing snarl. Lucius gasped and took a step back shaken.

He’d seen this design again in the past.

“Lord Alden?” Gunn asked, sounding apprehensive, even shocked at his reaction. “I thought you wanted yer war band having similar attires. I used yer family’s coat of arms as inspiration.”

Lucius licked his lips, sweat forming on his forehead. The atmosphere inside the workshop suffocating.

“It’s not that, master Gunn,” He told him and approached to have a better look at the design again. “By the way, I’m not creating a warband, but a military unit.”

“Of course, milord,” The smith replied, the man’s expression telling Lucius he thought it the same thing.

“Anyway… ahm, I’ve made a similar drawing in my youth. It was an attempt at forming my own coat of arms. It wasn’t well received.”

Lucius heard young Ralph in his head.

His late brother was chuckling.

“Apologies milord,” Gunn replied tensely. “I’ll break the mold and scrap this—”

Lucius stopped him raising his hand.

“Don’t. It’s a fine armour master Taylor,” He turned to glance at a silently watching Veturius. “Captain?”

“This isn’t yer father’s men, milord,” The aged ex-legionnaire replied. “But yours. Lucius’ soldiers should have their own tiger, I reckon.”

Lucius nodded and turned to the waiting smith.

“All the armours will have it?”

“Aye, Lord Lucius.”

“Good. Ah, find me some good red paint, master Gunn. I want all these soaked in it,” Lucius asked him. Seeing the smith standing unsure, the cost of creating the armor sets probably making Sam O’ Dargan’s man regret promising Lucius ‘everything’ he needed, the heir to Regia cracked a smile, a hand caressing the still warm surface of the armour. “These might be Lucius’ soldiers and armour, but they’ll still serve under an Alden.”