Lucas Kato

The Tiger’s Lair

Part II

-No skill is involved-

The Northman cook eyed him unamused. Turned the gold ring this way and that with his finger, grease giving his skin a shine under the morning sun and the sausages boiling in the frying pan nigh distracting to Kato. The iron hot and half buried in the red embers.

“How do I know it's gold?” The meat cook asked crooking his mouth. “Expect me to bite it lad?”

“Does it look fake to ye?” Kato argued, spit flooding his mouth, an eye half-closed despite the swelling retreating. “What do you say it’s worth then?”

“Fuck I’m supposed to know that?” The cook protested. “A copper?”

“Shut yer gimlet! For a gold ring?”

“Listen mister…”

“Kato.”

“Right,” The cook said glancing at the ring more carefully. “I’ll give you a silver tops. This is a cook-shop, not a god-darn bank!”

“Two silvers,” Kato haggled.

“There’s blood on it,” The cook countered unmoved.

“Cut me finger removing it,” Kato explained. It was half the truth. Almost three quarters of it as a matter of fact.

The cook looked at it closely. “Does it say Bea…?” He tried to read the inscription scratching some of the gore away with a dirty nail.

“It’s my middle—”

“Ah, there it is Beatrice. Aye.”

“Me middle sister’s name,” Kato dodged with a toothy smile.

“Undying affection,” The cook kept reading as more words were revealed, much to Kato’s frustration.

“We are very close.”

“Listen Mister Kato, we don’t much like this kind of weirdness up North,” The cook admonished him.

“A silver and a couple of sausages,” Kato said quickly almost desperate. He spotted a Decanus rounding up the legionnaires loitering in the market, spotting them easily even without their armour.

“They are half-cooked,” The cook replied now more interested.

“The more the flavor,” Kato deadpanned, an eye on the Decanus beelining for their group.

The cook slapped a silver coin on the counter and reached to get two sausages from the pan. Rolled them in a cloth and Kato grabbed them hurriedly and made to run away.

The Decanus voice ringing down the narrow market street stopping them.

“There you are,” The square-jawed brute barked. “Ye darn cunts!”

Several legionnaires flinched revealing themselves, but Kato who was well-drilled in these matters, took a step back and started chewing on the burning sausage, juices running down his chin and his tongue and teeth hurting.

“Since ye rested and aired yourselves enough, I’m pleased to announce,” He paused and stilled his eyes on him. “There’s work to be done. Time to earn all that coin ayup.”

“We haven’t seen a coin Decanus!” Someone protested and the officer scrunched his face, probably considering how to handle this since they were in a public place full of civilians.

“Is that a military issued chain in yer neck?” He asked the legionnaire, a thin smile on his face. “Reckon it isn’t. Now, enough cuddling ye hairy cunts, as I said the ‘Old Oak’ has an easy job for your sorry lot!”

Kato gulped down the burning spiced meat, his eyes watering and burped.

“Easy my arse!” A grisly veteran retorted.

“Are ye calling me a liar? Because it kinda seemed that ye did,” The Decanus snapped turning on him. “Easy and fucking safe! Ayup. Only bloody thing you’ll need is a pickaxe and yer hands! Stop jerking yourselves off and fall in line!”

“We are on leave!” Someone yelled next to Kato, whilst several men started walking out of the market.

“From what?”

“I’m injured!” The soldier protested.

“You have a Dottore’s vellum?”

“He doesn’t issue—”

“ENOUGH!” The Decanus barked spittle flying out of his mouth. “What is this cack? Get out of my face soldier! NOW GODS DARN IT!” He turned his eyes on Kato, now pushing the rest of the sausage into his mouth and frowned, whilst the last man walked after the others, under the cheers and jabs of the market crowd.

“Are you deaf?” He asked him surprisingly calm.

“Got a blow on the head sire.”

He probably shouldn’t have answered on second thought.

Eh.

“Yet, yer standing upright gulping down… ye think that’s funny?” He grunted.

“It’s a grimace of pain sire.”

“What yer name smartarse?”

“Kato sire.”

The Decanus frowned and stood back.

“Say again?”

“Lucas Kato sire.”

“You are wanted in the camp,” The Decanus said, scrunching his face. “Fuck are you doing here?”

“I was—”

But he never got the chance to finish.

“Are ye jesting with me ye cunt?” The Decanus barked in his face. “RUN BACK TO THE CAMP RIGHT NOW.”

“Yes sire.”

“WHY ARE YOU STILL STANDING?”

“Yer in me way sire,” Kato replied, the spit blinding his good eye, earning a row of laughter from the spectators.

The officer grunted and stepped aside grinding his teeth.

“Where did ye get the sausage?” Pappus asked chewing on the half-cooked meat with enthusiasm. “It’s bloody great haha!”

“I got robbed for it,” Kato replied checking his gear was all there. Everything he owed was inside his haversack. Some of the loot probably worth something, if he could find a way to sell it that is.

“There’s a man looking for you,” Pappus informed him. “Weird guy.”

“What do you mean?” Kato asked him standing up and a young Lorian, wearing a Legion issued tunic, a leather satchel over his shoulder walked towards them.

“Mister Kato?” The man said, pleasant face and large almond-colored eyes smiling.

Kato distrusted him instinctively.

“Uhm.”

“I’m Vibius Ramirus,” The man introduced himself and tended a hand, Kato didn’t take. “Scribe of the Third, Aide to Prefect Trupo.”

“Ah.”

“May I ask a couple of questions? It won’t take much of your time,” Ramirus explained in his cultured Common. “I’m preparing an essay, it will be part of the curriculum. Hopefully a great read for the students and future members of the legion.”

Kato had no idea what in Oras Hells the man was talking about.

So he just nodded, to keep his options open.

“Now, you are a member of the First Century of the First Cohort am I correct?” Ramirus started getting a scroll out. He sat on a stool to unfurl it. “Can I use that table please?”

Kato eyed the table Pappus had used to eat. His friend had slipped away sensing trouble. They haven’t gotten a tent yet since the camp wasn’t finished and everyone was standing in the open. The easy work the Decanus had promised being the gathering of rocks and slates from around Kas that were to be used in the construction of a ‘permanent’ camp apparently.

That meant a good ole sleeping under the stars, near a fire and under blankets.

At least it wasn’t snowing.

“Sure,” He replied and the Scribe went to sit on it taking the only stool they had with him.

“There it is,” Ramirus said and got an inkpot out and a quill. “You were the only survivor of your Maniple.”

“Pappus as well,” Kato corrected him.

The scribe blinked and added the name on his list.

“Is he here?”

“Yer sitting on his table.”

“It’s a Lorian name.”

“He’s from Asturia.”

“Right. Well, I’m more interested in the multiplicity and inclusiveness of our Legion mister Kato. It makes for a good recruiting slogan. You serve alongside several locals yes?”

Not really. Most foreigners are from Fetya and Krakenhall.

“Ahm…”

“You had a Northman in your unit.”

“Sure.”

“I don’t have his name.”

“Uhm.”

“Can you give me his name mister Kato? Surely you were good friends.”

“Eh…”

“Well?” Ramirus asked looking at him. “It will be a nice personal touch.”

“He’s dead.”

“I’m sure he is.”

Kato stared at him for a moment.

“The name?” Ramirus asked him patiently.

“Belor.”

“I’m sorry for the loss of your friend.”

He was no friend of mine and I ain’t getting much regret oozing from ye.

“Well…” Kato said dragging his words unsure.

“You can inform his family that Belor will be issued a Phalera for his sacrifice,” Ramirus said with a smile, quite pleased with himself. Kato hadn’t the slightest on the whereabouts of the late Northman’s family, but he nodded just the same.

“Uhm.”

“I must inform you here that the Legatus has mentioned you,” The scribe told him conspiratorially and stood up after he gathered his stuff.

“Mmm,” Kato kept it as short as he could, as nothing the man was saying sounded good to him.

“Any idea on the reason?” Ramirus asked looking at him.

Kato cleared his throat. I stole his hankie and probably wants it back. He spotted me looting the dead and wants to skin me back to make a point?

“We fought side by side on the third day,” He said instead.

“I can’t imagine the thrill, seeing him in action.”

“Eh, he’s good wit the sword,” Kato retorted. “Good rider. He’s very impressive up close.”

Ramirus nodded, made to leave but paused. “You made an impression as well mister Kato. You should dress up now. He asked for you.”

Fuck, Kato thought.

You fucking snake.

Decanus Gata stood rigid inside the commander’s tent, one of the few that had been put down before the more permanent timber buildings finished. Behind his desk the Legatus was showing an architectural drawing to the ‘Old Oak’, but Galio Veturius’ aged face didn’t reveal whether he liked it or not.

Kato paused next to Gata. The officer, sporting a cut on his forehead, signed for him to remove his helm. He did, using the other hand to comb his messy hair some and then wipe the sweat off his face.

Prefect Trupo who he’d missed initially, approached the table and placed a scroll on it. The Legatus glanced at it. He had a handsome clean-shaven face and clever eyes that run over it quickly.

“I’ll take your suggestion Prefect, but make some changes,” Lucius Alden told the high ranking officer and Ramirus boss. He then had some wine from a bronze goblet and turned his attention on him.

“Legionnaire Lucas Kato,” The Legatus said. “There’s some debate whether you deserve this or not,” Ah, dangnabbit! Kato grimaced, his swollen left eyelid closing. “But I’ll have your take on the matter,” Lucius added.

“There was no ill will in the act sire,” Kato blurted out and Lucius stood back with a frown. “Nor disrespect. It’s been… part of the job…” The Tribune was glaring at him.

Decanus Gata being less courteous.

“Shut yer mouth Kato!” He barked whipping his head right to look at him with crazy eyes. “The Legatus hadn’t finished!”

Kato grinned pulling his upper lip back, which seemed not to work at all, afore nodding in pensive silence.

“Joined the Legion in Anorum in eighty four,” Lucius continued the tiniest of grins on his lips. He was reading from another scroll. “Aged nineteen…”

Kato blinked.

“Younger? Eighteen… hmm,” Lucius said catching his small deception. “You were dishonorably discharged with no pension or benefits four years later for and I quote. Dereliction of duty, heavy drinking, heavy looting, blasphemy to four of the Five Gods, apparently you are a gabbler and revealing yourself to a married Lady,” He stared at him, those strikingly blue silver Alden eyes cold.

Kato didn’t know if he should explain.

Or whether he’d finished this time.

“Answer the Legatus ye absolute spoon!” Gata barked next to his ear, starting a ringing that spread to his other.

“I was tryin’ to ‘rinate sire,” Kato said as quickly as he could.

“What did he say?” Lucius asked perturbed.

“He stopped to piss at the side of the street alike a dog,” Gata explained. “He does that frequently sire.”

Much like everyone without a personal lavatory, or a house you fuckwit!

“I got the picture mister Gata,” Lucius stopped him, then he turned to Kato again. “Fled to Sovya, after convincing your friend Pappus to break you out of a cell in Asturia, where you served time since the Lady’s husband thought you needed more punishment,” Lucius continued. “Worked as mercenaries since then, until you joined the Black Skulls. You volunteered for the Hundred Days campaign in Maza Burg,” He glanced at the aged officer watching the exchange silent.

“He’s a good soldier milord. Ye need guts for this job, no skill is involved,” The Tribune said. “Nor do you have to be a decent man. I believe the latter can be fixed, but ye either are a soldier, or you’re not.”

Kato tried to force open his left eyelid and managed it whilst everyone was pondering on the Tribune’s words, a tear running down his cheek from the effort.

“I need someone to form the new First Century,” Lucius said interrupting his fidgeting. “Good troops will be provided, but with such losses the unit might take a moment to recover. I want that moment shortened, so I need firm leadership and to cut off the dead weight,” Lucius paused looking at him. “Gata will explain to you more.”

“Am I…?” Kato tried to say and glanced fearfully at Gata.

Getting an earful.

“What are ye looking at me for ye cunt!”

“Apologies Decanus—”

“It’s Centurion Gata! Are ye bloody blind?” He hissed irate, his fuse shorter than a rabbit’s cock and Kato grimaced comically trying to withstand the onslaught.

“Finish your query Kato,” Lucius urged him, thankfully remaining calm that hint of a smile on his mouth.

“Am I fired sire?” Kato croaked, feeling dizzy and a little poisoned from the herb-heavy filling that cook had used in the sausage.

“No mister Kato,” The Legatus had replied and placed a bronze badge on his desk. “You’ve been promoted to Decanus of the First Century. Don’t veer off track again Decanus.”

Well, that’s a bowl of cack.

“What was that?” Lucius asked him unsure as he’d talked aloud in his shock.

“Me goal is staying on track sire!” Kato shouted ardently, then grinned fiercely showing a lot of teeth, until he met the ‘Old Oak’s’ pitiless eyes and stopped abruptly.

The important thing as far as Kato was concerned, was the fact he'd kept his bowels under control until he made it back to their spot walking briskly. It was a half-sprint. There he emptied himself out making a mess on the ground near where they had to sleep. Since this was the Legion and he was issued a shovel, Kato dug a hole and covered it all up afore Pappus returned.

The next morning he walked in front of a freshly reformed Third Maniple, the twenty five legionnaires –Pappus amongst them- eyeing him apprehensively. Kato was stiff as a board, an arm half frozen as he’d kept it out of his blanket in his sleep and the helm on his head felt heavy and bothersome.

He looked at the men and then grinned maniacally afore starting his prepared speech.

“This is a fortunate day,” Decanus Kato croaked, his voice cracking until he coughed once to clear his pipes and continue. “This day ye fuckin’ cunts, we’re going to do the easiest job ever assigned to a legionnaire. No skill is involved!”

“What’s the job sire?” Pappus asked him and Kato eyed his friend warningly. Boundaries had to be set afore this went tits up.

“Same as the day before,” He told him and pointed at a pile of tools next to their lines. “Grab yer pickaxes lads,” He ordered them. “We’re going digging for stone! ON FULL SPRINT! We shall smash that stone, beat it into submission and drag its sorry arse back into the camp without a hiccup! WHY?” He barked at the end and most of the older lads shouted back in the same vein, forcing the new recruits to go along. The roar thunderous.

“NO SKILL IS INVOLVED SIRE!”

Aye, Decanus Kato agreed with a satisfied grimace.

Welcome to the fuckin’ Legion!