Lucius Alden

A Hundred Days

Part VI

-Four hours-

You are not dead,

Until you see yer name on the Wall

-

Third Legion's dictum

The sun danced over the frozen banks of the lake and then hid again, a wind blowing over its flat surface rapping the lip at its edges blowing hard snow and grit away. It screamed, Lucius thought at first, his eyes irritated from the lack of sleep. With no possibility of a fire, they had rested sparsely in harsh conditions. Harsh not giving it justice. Three people have perished the first night, seven the second.

Then he realized the wind wasn’t to blame for the uproar and strange cries. A man jumped over the bulge to his right, where the lake’s edge turned uneven, just as Lucius stepped on solid ground. The scout landed on his feet, but slipped and turned an ankle, part of a blade still on his back. He went down hard, Lucius turned his head to watch him and saw the man’s face smashing on the lake’s surface and the back of his skull cracking open.

The moment he did, another appeared over the bulge, big brawny man wearing plate armour of unfamiliar design. Lucius frowned, voices heard from his front and from his back coming from the lake, along the clanging of blades on shields.

“Watch out!” He yelled turning towards Zac Ross and Faye that were following right behind him leading their horses and by the time Lucius got the final word out, another warrior popped out from the semi-darkness and light mist of the early Northern morning. He paused briefly seeing Lucius coming up from the lake and then with a loud warning to his unseen friends charged down on him, large war axe held in both hands and raised high.

Lucius smacked Stormbolt away with his left hand and sidestepped, boots slipping on frozen snow, trying to get his sword out with his right. The man running at him, tripped himself up in his hastiness to reach him, made the last couple of meters of his charge a faltering mess, axe moving front, back, left and right.

“Hells!” Faye shouted seeing the man attacking Lucius getting a backhand from the knight and coming her way. She kicked a leg out to catch him, but slipped on her other and went down, the man still running amidst their lines, ogling his eyes in despair at the multiple enemies appearing in front of him. Morgan stopped him with a well-placed axe blade between the eyes.

“That fucker almost gave me a heart attack!” Eli Sharp yelled still shocked behind Lucius that was running towards the spot where the warrior had come from.

Lucius reached the first trees, mostly frozen white trunks coming out of the hard as ice snow and stopped abruptly seeing a large group of men moving towards them. Not Kaeso’s scouts, the whereabouts of the Decanus a mystery. He turned around while unsheathing his sword and run back towards Faye and the others coming out of the lake.

“How many?” She asked worried.

“Enemies, a darn lot,” Lucius said, breathing heavy from the exertion, before forcing himself to stop and address the situation. “Decanus Sharp run to the Prefect and inform him we have a battle on our hands. NOW! EVERYONE ELSE GET READY!” He bellowed and eyed Logan Barret shoving people away to reach the front. “GET THE HORSES TO THE SIDE!” Lucius ordered and Alana moved to gather as many as she could, with the help of Zac Ross and another Northman.

Logan reached them in the meantime, grabbed his arm and turned him around with a angry grunt. The first of the Issirs had appeared over the bulge.

Damn it, Lucius thought, realizing his shield was on Stormbolt.

An Issir tried to split him in half, the bastard sword buzzing when it came down, but Lucius blocked it and pushed the blade aside. The warrior roared, decided to grab him by the throat next, so Lucius lowered his head and broke three of his opponent’s fingers on his helmet. His opponent let out a muffled groan through clenched teeth and pulled back, his right arm twisting in the attempt to swing his sword again, the effort clumsy. Lucius parried low and cut upwards splitting the Issir’s face down the middle, gore spraying the white ground.

Lucius faltered not expecting to connect so fully and bumped onto the fatally wounded man, shoving him down. He barely stopped a spear with his left hand in the next breath, the steel tip grazing his armour on the side. The mix-breed let go of the shaft and jumped back another warrior charging him, this one carrying an axe. Lucius turned right sharply, lowering his shoulder and the man missed, getting his right arm immediately chopped off below the elbow for his troubles.

“AH!” Lucius cried frustrated twisting away, his opponent’s screams of pain drowned in the general mayhem all about him. He spotted Faye fighting five meters away, both her blades out looking as panicked as her opponent and cursed. Lucius started going her way, stopped to run through the mix-breed that had lost his spear earlier, now sporting a short cleaver. The man spat on his helm, teeth all bloody and went down taking Lucius’ sword with him.

Lucius stooped to get his blade back, half of it still in the dying Issir and another warrior came at him carrying a saber. He slashed at Lucius and forced him a couple of meters away from his weapon, the smile turning to worry on his face realizing, just about the same time Lucius did, the knight had a perfectly working spear in his other hand.

The Issir paused unsure and Lucius tossed the spear up expertly, caught it with his right arm and chucked it as hard as he could at his opponent. With the distance between them a mere two meters, three at the most, it barely left his hand.

“Good grief!” Zac Ross exclaimed seeing the desperate and fully skewered through the torso Issir, trying to dislodge the spear out of him without any success. “Milord, where’s yer sword?”

“HELP FAYE!” Lucius blasted him and went to get his sword back. This time he used his boot for leverage, the stunned squire watching him all but fainting at the brutality. “Mister Ross, unless you’ve decided to die here. I suggest you move,” Lucius scolded him, moving past him to rejoin the fight.

The Issirs that had attacked them, a group of thirty, got overwhelmed and pulled back towards the trees and the north turn of the lake. Lucius got everyone out of the ice as fast as he could, men, women and horses bunched up on the banks, left Faye and Eli back and rode on Stormbolt about a hundred meters to his right, where the First Century was coming out of the lake slowly. He jumped down upon reaching them and pulled Centurion Trupo aside.

“There are enemies attacking Kaeso in the woods, south of our position. More to the North at the bend of the lake,” He told him, while watching the soldiers getting out. The light mist not allowing him to observe where the Issirs had retreated.

“There’s a village there,” Trupo said. “We can reach it over the lake.”

“I want us fighting over solid ground, Centurion,” Lucius replied. “Assume their camp is near, or in the village, they might come at us soon. Get the Century out and ready, inform Galio.”

“What about Kaeso, Milord?” Trupo asked.

Lucius grimaced. “Let me worry about him. We might not have more than fifteen minutes of respite here Centurion. Get the men out, direct the other Centuries to line up behind the First.”

Lucius rode back to his group, tossed the reins to Zac Ross, his squire pale and with a permanent frown on his young face.

“Stay close,” He told him and looked to find Faye. Decurion Sharp rode to him and pulled at the reins forcing his scared horse to stop, the clamor of battle at the distance continuing.

“Kaeso is locked with the Issirs near the woods sire!” Sharp reported, yelling to be heard, over the noise of many men and horses gathering up at the banks of the lake around them.

“Mister Barret!” Lucius shouted, spotting Logan directing with grunts the men still loitering in the frozen lake. The Northman turned and glared at him. “Get the best men with a sword and break Kaeso out. Use the cavalry on foot, Decanus Sharp will assist you!”

Logan nodded and eyed the nervous Decanus. “Off that horse Sharp,” Lucius urged him and turned to find Faye amidst the chaos. The woman rode to him, her skin all flushed much as her hair, small freckles lost in a sea of scarlet.

“Wear your helmet Faye!” Lucius cautioned her and climbed on top of Stormbolt.

“I can’t hear that well wit that darn thing on!” She protested, but reached to get her Port Type Helmet on and started fumbling with the cheek-guards. “What?” Faye griped seeing his expression. “This thing weighs a ton Alden!”

“I’ll make you a better one. Something with a full mask on to protect your freckles,” Lucius promised her with a teasing grin, despite the situation. “Come. Get Alana, your band and follow me.”

“Where to?” Faye asked a bit redder in the face and turned around to whistle loudly to get Alana’s attention.

Lucius smacked his lips, his deep blue eyes examining the chaotic battlefield. Most of it unseen, much as the enemy.

“We need to talk to Galio, get our men out of the lake,” He told her a moment later, just as a worked up Alana, face twice as red as Faye’s and sporting a ridiculous custom plum on her helm approached them. “Is that a wolf’s tail?” Lucius asked her.

“Coyote’s,” Alana deadpanned with a huge grin, turning to a frown seeing his expression. “What? Everyone’s looking to put something on ‘em helms Milord, yer men started it!”

Lucius spotted the Legion Standard first and First Signifer Bryn Solomon, the tiger’s head glaring ominously over the rows of legionnaires. Prefect Galio’s voice cutting through the noise directed him next.

“Centurion Capito, yer men are late!” The Prefect boomed. “Take the left flank and form up!”

“Fourth! Everyone move yer god darn feet!” Capito yelled not likening being put on the spot. “Any strugglers get a boot in the arse!”

“Prefect, a word,” Lucius told Galio and climbed down from Stormbolt again.

“We are missing a couple of lads, milord,” Galio explained, hard lined face eyeing the Centuries forming up in squares.

“We need to march towards the curve of the Lake Prefect, keep near the banks to avoid being flanked from the east, while using them as a guiding line. I’ll guard the west approach with the Cavalry.”

When I have it back.

Hopefully.

Argh.

“Where to milord?”

“The city is too far away for them to wait us out here,” Lucius explained. “They have a camp at the near, or they used the fishing village.”

“Difficult to approach it. The river keeps the ice there unstable,” Galio grunted, crossing his thick arms on his armoured chest.

“We won’t use the lake, we’ll go around it,” Lucius repeated. “But you’ll send someone back to notify O’ Dargan we made contact.”

“You’ll use the trainees?” Galio asked, sounding worried.

“I need hands on this side of the Rockfort. We might have to dig something fast.”

“Can they bring a supply carriage along?” Galio asked and they both thought about it.

“Only tools, no supplies,” Lucius grimaced. “The wheels might cut through the ice, if the sun decides to avoid hiding behind the clouds.”

“Feels right darn cold still, when it does,” The Prefect pointed.

“I can’t risk it, Prefect,” Lucius retorted. “Get men and tools, that’s it. We’ll see about supplies, after the fight is over.”

“Maybe they were scouts,” Galio chanced.

“Nay, they weren’t,” Lucius replied. “This is another blocking forcing force.”

“Are ye sure, milord?”

“Aye, I would’ve done the same,” Lucius told him.

Logan ‘Gray’ Barret attacked the backs of the Issirs hunting down Kaeso’s scouts, the battle amidst the Whitebark trees brutal. Realizing they were outnumbered they broke and run. Some went for the lake, attacking later that day Lucius Second Century that was marching over the frozen lake to reinforce him, causing some casualties and blooding the recruits, until they were cut down mercilessly as they were outnumbered considerably.

The scenes over the ice quite memorable with as many as twenty or thirty recruits hacking down a single warrior at times.

Others headed west and either circled back to Rockfort to join the later battles, or just returned to Krakenhall to inform an increasingly paranoid Lord Vanzon that the war had reached his backyard.

Logan returned with Lucius unmounted cavalry and Kaeso that had managed to save more than half his force, though it must be noted here that most of his men were hardened warriors with a less than stellar reputation. Amongst them an infamous half-breed, a half-Issir, half-Nord warrior named Dirk Curd who fought against his own banished kin that day and was to become a rather controversial figure in the years that followed, while serving yet another master.

While all this was happening, First, Third and Fourth Centuries marched hard to Northwest first and reached the bend of Selm Ailo where they stopped to rest briefly. Lucius sent Alana Shields back to get his Cavarly going (the exact time this order was given disputed), the morning cold, but not as windy. It was the typical Nordic gloomy day, the sun hidden behind heavy clouds.

Not five minutes into their halt the Dukes Warband, reinforced with men from Krakenhall brought by ‘Headsman’ Crypt, appeared at the bend as well. They paused fleetingly not expecting fully armoured legionnaires in the middle of nowhere, the earlier reports they’d received talking about Nord scouts and then charged down on the scrambling soldiers.

Dukes had about four hundred mix-breeds in his warband, but it isn’t known how many regulars Crypt had brought with him, or if another force was involved that early. Lucius had the hundred and twenty (or hundred and fifty) men of the First, about a hundred in the Third (it had taken attrition losses the previous days) and almost as many in the Fourth. Elements of his Cavarly were present and probably Lucius himself, though the fact is disputed.

Lord Trupo who wrote extensively about the campaign and still mentions it on every occasion today, insists the soon to be declared Legatus Lucius, was present from the start.

Being amongst those that had the privilege of knowing the Legatus even briefly, it comes as no surprise he was in the thick of it.

“SHIELDS!” Trupo barked, the sound of metal reverberating over the frozen mostly flat field and the rough bulge marking the edge of the lake, at the far right of their formation. It almost covered for a moment the clamor of the mass of warriors charging down the soft slope towards their seething lines. The First moved a step forward, the other two Centuries following soon after. The first two rows of legionnaires leaving a meter wide gap from the rest.

Lucius rode to the far left where the Fourth had formed twenty bodies wide, five deep. Everyone on horseback followed after him, Lucius riding with his eyes on the approaching warriors. At least four hundred, he thought, maybe more if they have kept a reserve over the slopped terrain.

I would.

“Alana,” He barked turning to locate the former scout. “Tell the Prefect to keep a reserve of at least thirty… make it fifty men back. Go now!”

The woman bobbed her head and turned her horse around, then galloped hard towards the center of their formation, now extending from the banks of the lake out in an almost straight line, but for the two meter gaps left between the centuries.

Lucius group reached the end of that line, still watching the coming assault over the heads of the soldiers and he continued past it to see if the Issirs would attempt to outflank them once the men were locked in position. The light mist still present near the lake and the thin tree-line on top of that slope inhibiting his field of view. He cursed, frustration oozing out of him and glanced back to the riders following his horse, just as the Issirs fell on their lines. The front almost eighty meters, or seventy square legion-type shields, shaking violently on impact.

Men screamed, the sound otherworldly, weapons clanging on shields and blades finding wood, metal and flesh. The first line pushed back onto the shields of the men standing behind them, some warriors breaking through only to find a third row of shields waiting for them, not a meter after that and death.

Lucius stopped his horse, Stormbolt’s neigh lost in the ruckus of battle and turned to Zac.

“GET ME MAMERCUS!” He pointed to a slow trotting towards the Centuries group of Slingers. A good four hundred meters away. Mamercus was taking his time, probably not to tire out his men so early. They were on foot after all.

Alana delivered his earlier orders and rode back, a group of twenty legionnaires pulled out of the line by Centurion Capito, the battle now raging across the whole front and were then sent after the faster moving rider towards him. Lucius spotted a thick line of soldiers coming down the slope at that time, kitted in similar armour. A mix of chest plate and chainmail. Ah, he thought remembering it from earlier. There’s your Krakenhall troops.

The enemy soldiers started marching energetically towards his position, about ten meters away from the far left, or west, of their formation. Moving ever wider. They were going to flank them.

Lucius turned his horse around, Stormbolt shaking his head disturbed at the ungodly rumpus that made your ears hurt and your heart race wild and glared at Mamercus approaching with his men, then at the group of legionnaires following after Alana, led by a tall Decanus.

“Faye, ride for Mamercus. Tell him if they flank us here, him being well rested for later will be for naught and darn useless, since we’ll all be dead!” Lucius growled and Faye nodded and rode away hard.

Lucius jumped from his horse, the ground hard and his ears ringing.

“Lord Alden!” Alana reported arriving, her eyes wild. Everyone was spooked, even if they weren’t in the thick of it.

Yet.

“Centurion Capito dispatched a force to cover the flank sire!”

Lucius eyed them while getting the shield from his horse and a long dagger. Twenty men won’t extend the line out far enough, he thought. Unless we box ourselves in, making a knee here, to have them attack us on the sides.

“Decanus Mangas reporting for duty sire!” The Decanus barked, a Northman of twenty years. The first shaved one he’d seen in a while.

“Decanus, line up your men here, making a corner at the end of it touching the Fourth’s last soldier!” Lucius ordered him immediately having no time to lose on introductions.

“Single file sire?” The man asked.

“This is going to be a test of skill and courage Decanus!” Lucius replied measuring him up. The man pushed his chest out and grinned wide.

“Why then, we got nothing to worry about sire!” He retorted and turned to the men following him. “LINE UP. ONE LINE GENTS! LET’S CLOSE UP THIS FLANK!”

Lucius pulled away and stared at Stormbolt, then at the men forming up vertically. He looked at the approaching men next and the long front already locked in savage melee for a good ten to fifteen minutes and sighed.

“Where should I stand?” Alana asked him from atop her horse and Lucius frowned.

“How fast can you ride back to where we got out of the lake?” He asked her, his throat hoarse from all the yelling and his head hurting.

“The woods milord?” She asked. “Ahm... I can be there quite fast, but the horse won’t make it back.”

“Ride to the woods,” Lucius ordered her, a hand wiping the ice forming on the sides of his mouth. “Find Barret, or Sharp and bring the Cavalry here. Find another horse there, damn it bring everything. Don’t come without them. If it’s an hour, we may still be here. If it’s more, then Tyeus shall have his feast.”

Zac Ross arrived just as Alana rode away to the south, yelling at her horse to go as fast as it could. The frozen terrain helping it to gain speed fast, but also treacherous at spots.

“Faye might kill Mamercus,” Zac reported riding next to a glaring Lucius. “He’ll be here milord, but said tired men miss their targets.”

“Decanus Mangas!” Lucius barked, not wanting to dwell on it more.

“Sire!”

“Have your men been issued javelins?” Lucius queried and approached him, Zac following him on his mount.

“Aye sire, they have,” Decanus Mangas replied. “Two per, but the Prefect has issued an order to use them sparingly and on special occasions as there’s a shortage.”

Lucius eyed the Issir regulars, now almost two hundred meters further to their west and constantly angling the moment they realized, Lucius had secured the flank by creating another line.

“Well, Decanus,” Lucius said hefting his shield on his left arm. “I declare this occasion an emergency. The Prefect may protest about it afterwards.”

Crypt’s Issirs attacked at the western flank of Lucius formation. Their numbers unknown, but given that Dier Vanzon had brought a Regiment with him, or one fifth of a normal Kaltha military Foot, normally numbering five thousand soldiers (The Second Foot being the exception as it was double strength due to Midlanor’s militaristic approach and the Est Ravns huge personal funding of their armies), it is logical to suggest Crypt had half of them with him. Dier would have kept the other half in the city to support Baron Bink’s local forces.

Why Vanzon’s second son didn’t lead the attack himself difficult to decipher now, but most attribute it to his lack of meaningful land warfare experience. Dier had spent his years training naval units and you always keep your men close to the ship. The battle happening outside the city, near the lake, kilometers away from where he was posted, probably appearing too big a risk to throw the bulk of his forces into.

History would disagree with him, but all of us have hindsight on our corner.

Lucius much smaller force used javelins to cull the initial charge, but with the discrepancy in numbers so great, they were hit hard the moment the Issirs recovered. Men from the center of the formation arrived to stabilize this second front within the same battle, but slowly and surely the Issirs started pushing them back.

Lucius caught a spear on his shield, steel tip exploding through metal and wood and denting his armour. He was pushed back, a legionnaire losing a hand next to him and another having his head pulverized by a Warhammer, the blood blasting out of his eyes.

“GAH!” He cried out and cut the shaft away with his sword, Zac stopping the Issir that tried to flank him with one of Lucius war-spears and then getting cut savagely across the face by a bastard sword, despite the young man jerking away at the last moment.

Lucius twisted around livid, his blade chopping the arm of the Issir with the bastard sword clean off, but he got pushed aside by a large man holding a makeshift steel halberd. The mixed-breed tried to cleave him in half as he staggered away. Lucius, absent a better tactic, raised his shield to angle the cut away and almost lost his arm, the nasty weapon destroying the upper portion of it completely.

A grunting Lucius retreated and cut his shield’s leather strap to drop it, as the battle raged chaotic around him. Two legionnaires had forced the large warrior to back away a couple of meters in the meantime. He caught whiff of Faye’s familiar figure atop her horse, his arms and legs tired and his ears ringing.

An Issir rushed him interrupting his respite, their line almost completely broken now and Lucius grinding his teeth moved to meet him halfway. The enemy soldier, a dark grey squid engraved on his chest, slashed at him, but Lucius swatted it away with his own sword, sparks flying everywhere and attacked him on the return. The Issir parried successfully and pulled his blade back, teeth clenched tight.

“MOVE!” Faye screamed from behind him and Lucius sidestepped, her horse charging into the melee and crashing on the slow to react Issir. Faye turned to see if he was hurt and that large man appeared out of the chaos, the halberd shrieking as it came down decapitating her horse.

Oh, no you don’t.

Lucius got his dagger out and moved just as Faye went down with her collapsing animal, the frozen ground covered in gore that turned to a slippery sludge under his feet. The imposing warrior saw him coming and swung that large weapon to cut him in half. Lucius ducked under it at the last moment, the blade knocking his helm off his head and stabbed the large mix-breed with his dagger at his right side, where his plate left an opening.

The thin blade found mail underneath and slid sideways finally cutting through, the wound superficial. The tall warrior, trimmed red beard covering his face and his skin a dark grey, backhanded him savagely. It caught Lucius on the right shoulder and shoved him aside a couple of meters. The Issir paused to check on his wound, another soldier attacking Lucius while he did.

Lucius knew he had to take control of the fight right away. This wasn’t sustainable. He swung low at the charging soldier and tripped him up. The man tried to block his blade, but Lucius sword pivoted mid-move and slashed upwards catching him under the chin.

The injury devastating.

Lucius stooped and grabbed the sword the Issir had dropped, a typical double-edged sword. He turned, both swords in hand and rushed the breathing heavy large warrior, catching out of the corner of his eye Faye slowly getting up rattled. The Issir mix-breed grunted and took a step back to swing his halberd again. He was going to swing low, Lucius realized and started running obliquely eyeing the dead horse, his eyes urging a confused Faye to get out of the way. The Issir turned to watch him approach, both hands on his shaft turning that long weapon with him.

Lucius, by now breathing heavy but fired up, stepped on the dead horse’s body and jumped giving it his all, just as the large warrior swung low to cut him down. Faye screamed in horror behind his back, probably reliving her brother’s death and Lucius, who’d gathered his legs just enough for the heavy halberd to soar angry under him, slashed down with both his swords at his opponent. He caught the large Issir on both sides of his neck, right under the ears where his helm ended. His blades meeting in the middle.

Lucius saw none of that, his face covered in gore, but he heard the collective gasp coming from the Issir soldiers seeing the large man going down on his back and his severed head following right after.

“Are you okay?” Faye asked, voice strangled with worry, but Lucius seeing the Issirs reeling back stunned at his victory and the pressure on their lines momentarily relieved, reacted immediately. This being the first time in almost an hour both armies stood apart, even for a couple of meters, Lucius realized he had no time to lose, so he grabbed her by the collar and shoved her behind him a bit too abruptly perhaps.

Rising his head next, the exhausted general yelled at the top of his lungs. His voice coming out a hoarse angry roar that managed for a brief moment to break through the incessant clamor of battle raging all around them.

“MAMERCUS!” Lucius of Regia had bellowed. “FIRE AWAY!”

An Issir, the one closest to them frowned and stared at him surprised. Then shaking his head, he raised his heater shield and banged it with the flat of his sword. A message for his colleagues to resume their assault. Before anyone had the chance to move though something went right through his helmet and exploded out the back in a splash of dark gore, brains and white skull fragments.

“GET DOWN!” Lucius yelled at Faye, the woman still shocked at his earlier treatment. She will get over it, Lucius thought, too tired to apologize and tackled her down again. All around them a different kind of sound had started rising from a point even further west and behind the Issir lines. This buzzing multiplied, with random projectiles whistling through the packed lines of soldiers.

Cutting down anything in their way.

You evil and practical son of a bitch, Lucius thought, just as Mamercus’ Slingers started firing en masse on the Issirs backs they’d managed to circle around from. Helmed heads exploded, arms severed and ribs shattered, as soldiers started dropping down screaming, or in deathly silence, right and left. Mamercus Sorex murderous youthful gang wasn’t sparing anyone and while most legionnaires near Lucius had heard his warning, a couple of unlucky, or slow ones, fell from friendly fire as well.

What should have been an easy victory for the Issir regulars, ending with the rolling up of Lucius entire front, had turned instead into a costly prolonged affair with no end in sight; with the shocking death of famed ‘Headsman’ Crypt, the Issirs of the west flank were left leaderless and missed Decanus Sorex’s light-footed Slingers moving around them. They were caught in a devastating close quarters volley.

Or up to four of them, according to various sources.

It is believed that Mamercus’ young and largely not well respected unit killed in five minutes as many Issirs all three Centuries had killed from the start of the fight combined. Eighty eight, according to Trupo, a bit less according to other sources.

The Issir regulars, a well-trained veteran force, pulled away to regroup. This gave Lucius time to reorganize his thin line and bring in more reserves from the main front that was still slugging it out with Kaiser Dukes mix-breeds, well over an hour into the fight. While Lucius was regrouping and probably resting, the Issirs realized they still had the advantage and formed up to attack again in a large block.

Instead of that though, in a day and battle of constant twists and turns, they got caught in the open of a large flat icy field by Lucius returning Cavalry. While no more than fifty in size at the time, it is widely accepted today that Kaeso or Alana Shields, brought everyone that could ride and carry a weapon with them. The massive charge of well over a hundred riders pulverized the Issirs flanking force that broke quickly and was killed running away.

All of a sudden Lucius, who –heroics aside- had just barely managed to keep his own line from collapsing minutes earlier, had a large flanking force of his own to use.

There are two versions on how the battle of Selm Ailo ended. The first written by Trupo, then commanding the First Century at the center of the line, has Lucius Alden jumping on his horse and leading the final charge on Kaiser Dukes warriors completely routing them.

The other is the personal verbal account from the mouth of Faye Numbers, who was present and standing closer to the general. According to her a distraught Lucius just waved his riders forward and stayed back to mourn for the loss of his young squire.

Zac Ross, whose name is commemorated on the Wall of the Fallen at Elysium Fort, was sixteen at the time of his death.

Lord Sirio Veturius

The Fall of Heroes

Chapter II

(Legatus Lucius the third,

Northern campaigns,

A Hundred Days

Volume II, 7th week,

Late Second Month of Winter

Group Red (Lucius Cohort)

-the Conundrum at Rockfort

& the 500 kilometers march-)

Winter of 190 NC