As we walked through the mountains to reach the horses, my pack weight had doubled. The good news was the healing potion had done more than just heal my knee. All my aches, pains, and scabs were gone. Delmar told me a simple healing potion I had taken cost about five gold and could heal soft tissue injuries and mend bones. A full healing potion, ran about fifty gold but could bring someone back from the brink of death and align and repair broken bones. Our company had eight simple healing potions and nine full healing potions.
He was knowledgeable on the subject and said potion’s ingredients only cost about 20% of their value, but the alchemists needed to be exceptionally skilled. That was why magic porters were in such high demand since the valuable potions wouldn’t expire in my dimensional space. Doing the math, a single full healing potion was worth what I would make in ten years as a soldier!
I nervously asked if I would be charged for the simple healing potion. Adrian laughed, “Only if you drink one without permission.” I relaxed slightly, and he continued, “Castille does everything she can to keep us alive. A lot of mage company commanders have a healing spell. Castille does not, so she spends quite a sum on potions. We may take all the shit missions, but we also get more in return.” It was definitely something for me to think about.
The First Citizen was carrying nothing but his sword and belt pouch. Firth and Wylie shared the load with me, but Justin Cicero still had four times as much gear as a normal legionnaire. The other men were weighed down with griffin meat, so we were not the only ones suffering. I stayed close to Firth as we traveled to ask questions.
I asked Firth, “So what is First Citizen?”
He turned back to see the man walking in the midst of the company with a cockiness that irritated everyone around him. Firth said quietly, “They can trace their lineage back to the First Legion. The First Legion was some four thousand men that arrived from another world and carved out the Telhian Empire. Only about three hundred survived the Founding Wars, but their descendants are the only ones who can own land in the Empire. They control all the seventeen provinces of the Empire with an iron fist.”
window.pubfuturetag = window.pubfuturetag || [];window.pubfuturetag.push({unit: "64ce79d606107d003c23ea27", id: "pf-5140-1"})He checked on Justin Cicero again before continuing, “Even being a descendent of a member of the First Legion does not grant you the right to be considered a First Citizen. There is a substantial tithe required to the Emperor. Some of the nobles only elevate the inheriting son to the status of a First Citizen. Others, like the Cicero’s have enough coin to elevate their entire brood.” He looked at Justin and said quietly, “They even do so knowing their child is an idiot.”
I processed Firth’s words. It made sense with the blended terminology of Rome and Medieval Europe if travelers came from all eras. Was the direction one way? Maybe there was a way back to Earth. “Did any of the First Legion ever return back to their own world?”
“Dragon’s piss, Eryk. What do I look like a scholastic? I have no idea what happened some two millennia ago,” Firth rasped with good humor.
Later in the hike, I asked, “Have there been other arrivals from other worlds?”
Firth shrugged, “Is your homeland so small you don’t have myths about them? They appear and are brought before the Emperor and are never heard from again. I do not think there has been one in the Telhian Empire in three hundred years. But you should talk to a mage or scholastic, not me.” I nodded and figured three hundred years someone brought the idea of noble ranks; barons, dukes, ect. Maybe even earlier than three hundred years, as Firth’s grasp on Telhian history was pretty weak.
I was silent for a long time. On a long slow climb, I inquired, “Why can a First Citizen command so much power? He just took the griffin egg from Mage Castille. He didn’t do anything to help get it. And the essences from the dungeon as well.” I asked, hoping to clear some things up.
window.pubfuturetag = window.pubfuturetag || [];window.pubfuturetag.push({unit: "64cc9e79c7059f003e4ad4b0", id: "pf-5109-1"})He laughed, “That is because the First Citizens can requisition anything they want. As long as we are not fighting or in danger, that is.” He looked back, checking on Justin again, “Don’t worry. Mage Castille will log what he took from us at the Legion office. Justin will at least have to pay fair market value to the Legion for what he took from us. We may even see a small bonus if they are feeling generous,” he winked.
“What about the dungeon room chest from the water room?” I asked, remembering the contents had been part of my deal for being the bait and freezing the monsters.
Firth pursed his lips, “We never saw what was in the prize chest. We can not make false claims under the spell of a Truthseeker, and as a First Citizen, he does not need to submit to a Truthseeker, so he got away with that one. I am sure Castille will make it up to you when we reunite with the company.” He leaned in close, “Castille and the company are going to race to Vartadria to register the new dungeon. We just have to make sure Justin Cicero takes at least seven days to reach Varvao.”
This was a lot of subterfuge going on. “What do we get for registering a new dungeon?” I asked quietly.
“The company should receive a five thousand gold reward from the Adventurers Guild once it is confirmed,” he grinned madly. “It falls outside of Legion business, so we should see the whole reward. If Mage Castille keeps to her regular pattern, then half the reward will be divided amongst the twenty-six of us after replenishing our potions.” He patted me back while cracking a wide grin.
Firth ensured no one could hear him before adding, “I heard Justin order Mage Castille not to report the dungeon, but she is going to do it anyway. She is extremely angry about this whole situation. We save his fucking life, and he has the gall to take our prizes. This Justin Cicero is one of the worst First Citizens I have ever dealt with. Most at least have common sense and courtesy.”
window.pubfuturetag = window.pubfuturetag || [];window.pubfuturetag.push({unit: "663633fa8ebf7442f0652b33", id: "pf-8817-1"})“If I did get the gold, could I buy my way out of the Legion? Gain my freedom?” I asked while we waited for the others at the bottom of a steep descent. I figured 2,500 gold was almost 100 gold for each man in the company.
“No, you are locked in for your five-year contract. With your ability, they may pull some tricks to keep you locked in, so be careful. I have seen it before. The best thing to do is not draw attention to yourself,” Firth admitted.
“How long have you been in the Legion of the Lion?” I asked as we started walking with the group again.
“Sixteen years next November. Don’t look surprised. It gives my wife and five children a steady stream of coin. And I get to use the brothels across the Empire without getting hassled,” he said good-naturedly.
I didn’t understand what would make someone enroll over and over again to risk their life. Was it the adrenaline rush? The path got easier as we began our final descent and could see the horses. Renna joined us as the trail was now wide enough for more people. She told us of her flying excursions around her village and how they had found and conscripted her. She talked a lot about flying and what it was like. The freedom to go in any direction—to do what you wanted. I could tell she felt constrained in her current position.
The horses and legionaries were all there when we arrived. They had fought off a half dozen wolves one night, and one of the horses had to be put down, making us two mounts short. Castille talked briefly with Justin before heading off Northeast, two men riding pillion. Justin came to our small group, irate and swearing. He ordered, “We make for Formica to resupply. Then we will make the best speed to Varvao.”
Firth and Wylie took their time getting their mounts ready and did not speed up, no matter how much Justion swore at them. It was only a ten-mile ride to Formica, but we did not get there till evening. I followed Firth’s lead and dragged my feet as much as possible. We stayed in the same room with Renna that night, and in the morning, we took time purchasing supplies, eating breakfast, and saddling the mounts.
Justin was not stupid enough to travel alone through the lands, and I was also keeping his griffin egg safe in my dimensional space. Maybe when we reached one of the major roads in two hundred miles, he would take the egg and sprint, but Firth planned to take him on an arcing route, avoiding the main road as long as possible. On the first day, we made only twenty miles of the three hundred, and I was sure Justin was now suspicious of our intentions.
He approached me after dinner that evening, “Legionnaire. I want you and me to ride on alone. My father’s birthday is soon, and I want to make sure I make it in time.” I went to piss after and consumed my last apex endurance essence. Thankfully, no indigestion.
Firth had schooled me in response, “Sorry, but I have been ordered to protect the Mage Renna. I can not leave her.” Her face turned red as I stated it. He definitely knew we were stalling. We had a 300-mile trip, while Castille needed to go nearly 500 miles through more dangerous and rough terrain. Wylie was sure she would find an outlying farm to get horses for the men without.
On our second day of riding, Wylie scouted out some roving swamp rats he wanted to avoid, so we took a four-hour detour. This was how each day proceeded. We rode cautiously in roughly the right direction but avoided all possible conflict and spent an hour in the evening to find a defensible position. Thankfully it was early in the season, and most of the more dangerous monsters had not migrated with their prey north, according to Firth. During the days, I did get a lot of experience with my horsemanship skills.
Camp life did suck on the journey as the night watch was divided between Firth, Wylie, and myself. Some nights Renna would sit and talk with me quietly. Justin complained something fierce every evening about our slow progress.
On the fourth day, we ended up fleeing a troglodyte war party of five. Firth made sure we galloped in the wrong direction. On the fifth night, we were attacked by lesser shadows and had to get the fire burning bright for the entire night to keep them away. On the sixth day, we circled wide of a diseased trent. A trent was a massive living tree, and this one had no leaves and visible rot. It took us eight days to reach the walls of Varvao, fleeing every possible creature. Justin appeared to be a coward, unwilling to fight any monsters. Since he was a First Citizen, we would have been forced to defend him if he did fight, but he was willing to flee every time.
Renna paused at the gates before leaning into me and whispering, “I hope our paths cross again. Remain safe in your travels.” She then rode to reunite with High Mage Dacian.
Justin’s parting words were not as pleasant, “Give me the fucking griffin egg so I can take a portal to Olheus.” I gave him the egg, and he stormed off, leaving us the mount he had borrowed and all his gear.
“Are we done with him?” I asked Firth.
Firth shook his head, “For now. I doubt he will be too happy after he finds out that Castille beat him to report the dungeon. But I already suspect he knows.”
“How much power does a baron’s son have beyond being a First Citizen?” I asked as we rode through the gates ourselves. Firth was leading us to the Legion office and barracks.
“Well, there are seventeen provinces and sixteen Dukes to run all the provinces besides the Emperor’s personal province. Each Duke has a Count in charge of each city and five to ten Barons that manage regions of their province. I am guessing there are maybe one hundred barons in all of the Telhian Empire. Some are more powerful than others. Baron Cicero supplies all the horses to the standing army and the Legion. That is nearly two thousand new riding mounts and an additional one thousand war mounts yearly,” Firth explained.
Wylie added, “A lot of us knew Justin’s pathfinder, Marius. He used to be in the Legion and was a good man. I think part of all this was Castille getting some payback for us for his death.” Firth was nodding in agreement.
“It would have been easier just to leave him in the dungeon,” I said seriously.
“Mage Castille doesn’t like to fail. She sees everything to the end. You will learn that soon enough,” Firth replied.
“So what do we do?” I asked.
“We report in, and there should be a message from Castille on where we are to go to meet up with them,” Firth said as he dismounted in front of the Legion office in the city.
