Lucius Alden

A Hundred Days

Part V

-Go forth Lucius of Regia-

Men are made of many things.

Sewn together. Small ‘n big.

Good and bad.

Uher’s Sayings

Circa 22 NC

Faye sighed softly and Lucius caressed her red curls with his hand, then landed a kiss on her wild head at the end of it. The woman stirred in his arms.

“Are you awake?”

“Mmm,” Faye murmured.

“These standard cots are bereft of proper mattresses,” He complained coolly, feeling her mouth on his chest.

“Yer tent had a fine mattress,” Faye pointed out with a playful bite.

“You’re mad with Zofia.”

“I never was in the past,” Faye explained. “We knew her, heard about her travels down south. The richest lass in the North. Boisterous, but clever. Very pretty.”

“I think you’re prettier in a lot of ways,” Lucius said and Faye raised her head to stare at him.

“Alden, you are a terrible liar,” She hissed.

Lucius frowned. “No I’m not,” He told her meaning it. “If its looks you’re angling for, then Macia had them aplenty. My cousin Sandra—”

“A dead woman and yer cousin,” Faye cut him. “Anyone ye can fuck?”

“Faye,” Lucius warned her and she raised a fiery red brow.

“What? I said I won’t curse in public,” Faye defended herself. “And fuck isn’t a bad word.”

Lucius sighed, then clearing his throat, he added. “My father married a cousin.”

“Whoa, now yer telling me?”

Lucius laughed and got up. “My stepmother was my meaning. She gave him Silvie. Now she’s going to be the prettiest of them all,” He found his clothes still smiling and started putting them on, while Faye looked to get dressed herself.

“What did the ‘Mad Wolf’ say?” Faye asked him.

“We didn’t talk,” Lucius explained. “At least I stopped yesterday’s attack.”

“Is it that bad?” Faye queried wearing her boots.

“That bridge is a kill zone,” Lucius said and turned so she could tie up his armour. Zac Ross was sleeping outside, but they had slowly started dressing themselves at some point Lucius had missed. He didn’t mind it, but it had created a new set of instructions for the guards outside. The commander is indisposed, or in company differing -with the former meaning it was forbidden to enter his quarters, unless you were the Prefect that is.

Galio pulled the cover aside and came inside, armour covered in frost and his helm heavy.

“Sam is here,” He reported and walking briskly grabbed the cords hanging from Faye’s armour and tied them one after the other, while talking with a smiling Lucius. “There’s a lot of Issirs beyond that bridge milord. I suggest we use the scouts to get a firm grasp of the terrain.”

“Lady Faye will not be with the scouts anymore,” Lucius explained to him. “Her men will be absorbed in the cavalry. They are on horse mostly already.”

“Of course milord,” Galio replied. “I shall notify Kaeso.”

“Thank you, Prefect,” Lucius replied. “I will be right out.”

“Do I get a spear?” Faye teased giving him a tight hug. “Or milord’s spear will suffice?”

“Faye!” Lucius groaned. “You’ll still scout for the cavalry.”

“Aye, I shall obey yer orders sire!” She chuckled and moved away from his arms. Lucius did manage to land a firm slap on her arse though.

“I’ll keep my eye on you Decurion Numbers,” Lucius warned her.

“Wait, am I under that little shit Eli Sharp?” Faye asked with a frown.

“Sharp and Alana will be under you. You’ll be my First Decurion,” Lucius explained.

“Is this like a first wife thing? Are ye trying to ease me in yer vile southern customs Alden?” She taunted.

“No such custom exists!” Lucius had blasted her not amused.

The latter quite ironic, as he’d be forced to use it some years down the line.

Prefect Veturius barked an order and the men saluted the fearsome looking Sam O’ Dargan, clad in his pelt-covered armour, Direwolf’s Helm making him appear larger than he was. Lucius gave him his arm in the Lorian greeting and the leader of the Northmen ‘Blue’ division of their army took it with a broad wolfish smile. Lucius directed him to his secondary command post, the Castrum raised by the men still not finished, but it would be much bigger when it did. The timber walls higher, the pre-cut wood used to erect a couple of semi-permanent structures inside.

Lucius force had ballooned, as the promise of steady pay, good weapons and the success at Ludriver Castle worked in his favor. The Centurions of all three fighting Centuries and Trupo of the training Second Century followed after them, with Galio leading the way through the rows of tents. Decimus Sabinus, one of the Lorians that had stayed behind at Kas was commanding the Third and young but brave Servius Capito, a Lorian from Cartaport the Fourth.

Galio had insisted they needed to promote a Northman at some point, other than Faye and those in Lucius cavalry, but he refused it, with a promise to revisit the issue in the future. Lucius’ reasoning was simple. He wanted men that would follow him after this campaign was over and he had to return to Regia. Deep down, the moniker ‘Lucius Legionnaires’ frequently thrown around by the men had rubbed off on him. Lucius wanted a Legion of his own.

Before all that come to pass though, they needed to deal with Rockfort.

“How many?” He asked Sam the moment the guard left them.

Sam smacked his lips, his helm in his hands, blood-red long hair falling over his beard covered face.

“Fifty dead, over a hundred injured. The supplies ye brought will come in handy,” He rustled. “They have Scorpios there overlooking the bridge. Nasty things.”

“How did they bring them?”

“Dier Vanzon, was preparing for a campaign this summer,” Sam replied eyeing him. “On the other side of the river. There’s talk of catapults.”

“Have you seen them?” Lucius asked.

“Nah, nothing that big would work in this cold. The Scorpio’s themselves are good for a couple of shots and then the torsion springs snap. But they make for a good deterrent.”

Lucius stared at the map. He expected Faye to return with a detailed report later that day.

“What about the Lake?” He asked and pointed with a finger.

“You mean go around it? The Woods are thick on this side, un-trotted, the passages blocked with solid ice.”

“Not through the woods, O’ Dargan,” Lucius explained. “That would be a journey and a half, I meant to cross the Lake.”

“Walk over the ice,” Sam said, sounding shocked. “Are ye serious? Didn’t ye admonished my plan with the iceberg last season?”

“It’s another thing entirely to sail on a bloody iceberg out in the ocean Sam,” Lucius retorted.

“How is it different?”

“It’s a freshwater lake,” Lucius explained. “The ice thicker, more solid. You’re not out in the sea.”

“No one walks the lake. What if ye find thinner ice, ye might lose yer fancy soldiers,” Sam argued.

“If animals can do it, men can as well. I’ll know before the day is over,” Lucius insisted. “I’ve seen Elks around these parts heavier than Layton.”

“Then what?” Sam O’ Dargan asked.

Lucius stared at the map.

“Movement is our strength,” Lucius said. “Staying put, what Vanzon wants from us. Time is on his side. Let’s don’t give him that.”

“You were late,” Sam told him later, after the officers had departed.

Ah, Lucius thought. News travel fast in the army.

“I found your sister,” He said instead and offered him a cup of warm ale. Lucius didn’t much like the stuff, but it was the only thing they seem to have in large quantities. It trampled all other foodstuff. The demand always increasing despite the quality.

“I heard,” Sam replied. “I’m not seeing her around.”

“She is in my tent,” Lucius replied and Sam stared at him, sole eye all serious. “On her… own.” Lucius added.

“There’s talk ye have a woman already,” Sam said, tasting his ale. “We don’t much like this kind of business up here Lord Alden.”

“Zofia has a child,” Lucius told him brusquely, not likening his assumptions. “It’s not mine, but she told me herself it’s Dirk Curd’s.”

Sam placed the cup on the table and rubbed his face hard with both hands.

“You have him locked up,” He rustled.

Wow, nothing keep’s a secret at all, Lucius thought.

“For a different reason,” He explained.

“Other than raping my sister?” Sam growled.

“He didn’t,” Lucius explained and Sam got up furious. “I’m not particular on the details my friend. Only what she told me. Curd killed a woman under my command, while working for me. I will deal with him.”

“Let’s do it today,” Sam argued.

“No. You need to talk to your sister first,” Lucius insisted. “Dirk is my problem.”

“You let killers walk, Sir Lucius? Ruffians kidnaping women?”

“Sam, calm down,” Lucius told him. “Listen to me. Your sister has a child with Curd. The kid looks like an Issir,” Sam groaned and threw his hands in the air. “She wants to keep it. I shall not kill a child, nor give it to be killed away from preying eyes. Is that clear?”

“Where’s Zofia?” Sam asked.

Lucius got up from his chair.

“Your sister is under my protection. Neither she, nor her child are to be harmed O’ Dargan,” He told the leader of the Northmen. Sam grunted grinding his teeth and walked up and down his tent all furious.

“Damn ye,” Sam cursed and breathed out exasperated. “Does the Jarl know of this?”

“I wouldn’t know. Why?” Lucius asked.

“My father doesn’t appreciate Northmen who marry outside their clans,” He explained and then eyed Lucius. “And abhors those making their picks outside of Jelin.”

Lucius frowned. “I was married to a northern lass,” He started saying, but then stopped. “You meant Issirs. We are all humans Sam, that’s a bigoted way of thinking.”

“We are at war with those bastards for two hundred years Sir Lucius,” Sam explained. “The Jarl just doesn’t share yer feelings I’m afraid.”

“What is the punishment?” Lucius asked.

“Huh, Curd knows the deal pretty well,” Sam replied.

“He’ll banish his own daughter?”

“Eh, Nah. Just the little bugger,” Sam said puffing out, the matter troubling.

They both knew Zofia wouldn’t give up her child.

Dirk had a sharp piece of wood in his hands, part of a chair that lay broken on the side of his tent. Lucius paused and stared at him for a moment trying to keep his temper under control. The man eyed him in turn and then stabbed what was probably a chair leg in the ground under his feet.

“Why?” Lucius asked him, when he rose up. Dirk curled his lip upwards in a mockery of a smile. Or he just had no idea how to offer one.

“Going to Ludr was a death sentence for me,” Dirk finally said.

“Why kill Seia? Take Zofia,” Lucius asked him, trying to keep his calm.

“The truth milord?”

“I would appreciate it,” Lucius replied icily.

“A couple of reasons,” Dirk replied, his voice throaty, his fingers crooked where he was missing a couple. “I wanted some leverage with Vanzon. He was going to blame losing his idiot son on me. It’s how it is wit me. I’m easy to blame.”

Lucius remained silent.

“The other reason is I like her. She insulted and threatened me aplenty afore that. Her father had banished my mother. All these I could have said, but I won’t. I like her, aye and she knows it,” He breathed out and eyed the silently seething Lucius. “This is the North milord. We don’t have a middle ground. I gave Seia a chance to live. She looked for a way to end her suffering. I didn’t cause her suffering, but I took her life. Didn’t plan on it, but it is what it is.”

The latter a Lesia saying his late mother favored, but Lucius never agreed with.

“I can have you executed,” Lucius said.

“You can,” Dirk agreed. “If ye do, then I chance to ask a favor.”

“What is the favor?” Lucius rustled.

“You take care of my little guy,” Dirk said with a grimace. “Take him wit you is my meaning. The Jarl will never give him a chance, but ye will.”

Lucius smacked his lips and crossed his arms on his chest.

“I can’t intervene into the Jarl’s family affairs,” Lucius told him.

“But you will,” Dirk said looking at him.

“I have already,” Lucius admitted. “I’ve told Sam O’ Dargan you are working for me.”

“Am I?” Dirk asked. “What about Zofia?”

“I won’t allow your son to be harmed Mister Curd. Zofia I can’t control,” Lucius told him and Dirk chuckled at that.

“Aye, I can’t either and I had her kidnapped.”

An awkward pause followed his words.

“I don’t usually give second chances,” Lucius said finally, breaking the stalemate. “You don’t deserve one, even if I did. But I owe you a life and Zofia prefers you live. You also need to atone for what you did.”

“I can’t do that milord,” Dirk said. “What’s done is done. That not how it is.”

“You’re mistaken Mister Curd,” Lucius countered. “You can atone and you will. People can’t right wrongs, but they can stop making them and try to help. Some out of regret, others because their heart changes. Men are made of many things. Sewn together. Small ‘n big. Good and bad. This I’ve told Zofia a long time ago and in another place. But you, you will do it for your son.”

With winter upon them and the cold attacking anyone standing in the open, killing those foolish enough to challenge it, attrition must have been very high. While hardened men and women, no one fought a long campaign in winter for a reason.

Lucius realizing they couldn’t spend the winter outside Rockfort with the enemy having the comfort of solid homes at the near, decided to act immediately. His hand probably forced from the threat of Lord Vanzon reinforcing his second son again and even go on the offensive.

The night of the second day of his arrival, the three Centuries under his command, the northern force under Kaeso and his cavalry under First Decurion Faye Numbers left their camp and marched towards the Frozen Lake about eight kilometers away.

The massive body of water starting where Alford ended and extended all the way to the distant Whitebark Woods. Sam O’ Dargan was to keep pestering the Issir forces, but avoid direct assaults, while resting his force.

If Lucius found a way across the Lake, then a signal was agreed beforehand for a general assault on the bridge. If he didn’t, or he was trapped, Sam was to retreat in a week’s time and avoid getting the rest of their men killed. Lucius left the trainees of the second Century behind, along his slowly arriving supply train. The long rows of carriages with produce, merchants and the many civilians, most of them on foot, streaming towards the Northmen camps reminiscing of the scenes before the Battle of the Bridges.

If there is a land of ice someplace, then this must be it, Lucius thought. The wind blasting over the frozen expanse, the moons over their heads making the white ice appear bluish, all the while giving it a soft dreamy glow. He stared at the rigid figure of Prefect Galio standing about a hundred meters from him, wrapped up in his Legion red cloak and the Centurions visible before the packed rows of armoured soldiers. Long icicles were forming on the men’s helmets, the bright red plumes absolutely still as if turned to stone.

Stormbolt snorted, blowing vapors out of his nostrils and pieces of frost. The warhorse covered with a heavy blanket and even wearing protection on its legs not enjoying the weather. The night quiet, the lake extending to all sides before them twice that, but for the ominous sound of water running underneath the hard surface.

Lucius turned his eyes, the only thing visible on his covered face, towards the lake itself and spotted the first of the advanced scouts waving a flag and then stabbing it down carefully, marking the narrow path the animals used to make it across. He prayed to Tyeus for a fighting chance, even if it was a small one and Faye standing on his other side, moved her horse near him, bright blue eyes unafraid.

“Go forth Lucius of Regia,” Faye told him staunchly, adding what she used to say to her late brother, when she was little. “Do what no one else could, free the North. The people will love you forever.”

Ah, Lucius thought, the pressure of the moment almost too much.

“What about you?” He asked her, voice hoarse from suppressed emotion.

“I used to hate loving you,” Faye yelled, over a sudden gush of wind. “Now I’m terrified. I can’t live in a world without you Alden! Ye heard me?” She asked a little apprehensive seeing his eyes growing at the admission.

“Everyone did!”

“Are ye gonna get them goin’?” Faye urged him blushing, despite the bitter cold.

Lucius nodded making a promise to himself that he’d ease her fears before all this was over and smacking his hurting lips, raised his right gloved hand. Galio saw him and boomed turning his head around.

“Centurion Trupo. First Century, single file, on the double!”

“First Century,” Trupo bellowed twice as loud. “Decanus Gato, have ‘em moving!”

The men started moving in a single file, one after another following the predetermined path over the ice. The torches that started lighting up in a great line over the dark frozen lake showing them the way.

“Centurion Sabinus! Third Century, single file, on the double!” Galio boomed and Lucius jumped down and used the reins to start Stormbolt down the hard, brittle terrain. Everyone on his large force following his example. The horse hesitated for a brief moment before putting his hoofs on the thick slippery ice and Lucius turned to look into his huge black eyes.

“Come on boy,” He whispered affectionately to his loyal mount. “We can do this.”

Lucius force crossed Selm Ailo, or Will’s Lake in two hellishly cold nights and an equally icy day. The first elements of his cavalry force reaching the westernmost banks first in the early morning of the second day, the First Century following right after. They found Kaeso and his scouts fighting for their survival, locked in a bitter struggle with the huge Dukes warband.

The fight near the freezing lake brutal and without any rules. A large melee over broken ancient tree trunks, cracked blocks of ice, boulders of granite and meters of packed frozen solid snow. Just as the Decanus wanted it. Kaeso fought an ever retreating battle drawing their enemies away from the banks, but when Lucius stepped on solid ground he realized the bulk of Dukes forces were right in front of them.

In the battle that followed over the frozen ground and waters, some of the bigger duels in North’s long history of wars were fought in the space of some odd hours. Some of the participants legendary in that part of Jelin then and now. With names such as Logan ‘Gray’ Barret, Rud ‘Grail’ Crypt, his brother Dario ‘Headsman’ Crypt, Kaiser ‘Mire’ Dukes, Dirk ‘Devious’ Curd, Faye ‘Scarlet’ Numbers, ‘Hulking’ Layton and the Bloody Tiger of Regia facing each other on the field, it was to be expected.

Lord Sirio Veturius

The Fall of Heroes

Chapter II

(Legatus Lucius Alden,

Northern campaigns,

A Hundred Days

Volume II, 5th week,

Second Month of Winter

Group Red (Lucius)

Sub-chapter II,

Lake of gore

-Four hours, Battle of Selm Ailo-)

Winter of 190 NC