It wasn’t an easy path for August and the reinforcements that accompanied him to reach Roland in the Southern Territories. First, they’d have to march west along the Iron Road, but turn off of it and go south once they passed the castle that had defended the pass from Octavius’ Legions months ago. From there, it was backwoods paths and unpaved roads for more than a week before they reached the northeastern edge of the Southern Territories.
Along the way, Leon tried to avoid Marquis Aeneas as much as possible. It was clear enough to him that the nobleman didn’t care for him, and by the time they reached the Southern Territories, the feeling had become mutual. But the Marquis was given tactical command of the army—though August still dictated their strategy—and that meant that interacting with him was unavoidable for Leon.
And it was about to become even more so.
---
“You don’t like my decision?” August asked the Marquis. Both had met in August’s tent after the sun had gone down and the army had stopped to make camp. The rest of the command staff had met up about an hour before to hear the reports of the scouts, but since they had been on this path for days, there wasn’t much else they needed to iron out, so the meeting was short. There were, however, a few holes in their leadership that could use filling, and August had asked Aeneas to stay a while to discuss how they should go about filling these positions.
Of course, this being a noble army, most of the command structure followed the feudal model, with lower-ranking knights and nobles given less authority, while those of higher ranks granted greater authority. But there were still a few thousand knights and men-at-arms that didn’t have a clear commander between themselves and the command staff, and their inability to choose one from amongst themselves now left the decision up to August and Aeneas.
August had suggested Leon fill that role, making him one of the most powerful people in the entire army, with a full ten percent of the fighting men and women placed under his command.
“I don’t, Your Highness,” Aeneas responded honestly. The two were alone, so August hadn’t felt the need to continue with being overly formal; they were relaxing in comfortable armchairs, and August had asked Aeneas to be completely honest with him.
“Why not?” August asked though he felt like he knew the answer already.
“No barbarian should be placed above our own people, especially not when those are men and women of nobility and good breeding. They won’t respond well to being ordered around by a savage, no matter how well he might dress.”
“What about to a powerful mage and talented warrior? And what about to the man who not only played a key role in brokering peace between us and the stone giants but also got them to commit a hundred of their giants to our cause,” August countered. “Do not forget, my Lord, that Leon is still only twenty years old, and already he’s a sixth-tier mage. Does that count for nothing in your considerations? I should think it ought to deserve a great amount of respect, even if you look down upon his heritage.”
Aeneas scowled, his thin face contorting in displeasure as he was forced to admit that Leon’s power was both real and shocking for someone so young, and while he wasn’t thrilled about fighting alongside stone giants, they had been quite peaceful and accommodating during the past week. Still, he had to disagree with his Prince on this matter.
“It’s not a question of his power, Your Highness. He’s a barbarian, and barbarians are inherently untrustworthy. They hold no loyalty to this Kingdom, no sentiments. From what I’ve been able to tell about Sir Ursus in this past week, he is no exception to this. How can we trust him to fight with us?”
“My uncle trusted him,” August simply stated. “Honestly, that’s enough for me. However, I’ve also interacted with Sir Leon quite a bit more than you, and I think he’ll surprise you. He may not have the Kingdom’s interests in mind, but he’s a good man who, if pressed, possesses a profound sense of right and wrong. He just doesn’t have the motivation to display that sense.”
“And you think that giving him command of several dozen nobles and their three thousand retainers will be enough for him to suppress his savage nature?”
August grimaced as he fought the momentary urge to tell Aeneas who Leon really was. It wasn’t a serious consideration, of course, but he wondered what Aeneas’ reaction would be to learn that not only was Leon not a Valeman barbarian, but his ‘breeding’ was actually superior to that of Aeneas’. “I don’t think Leon’s as savage as you might think. Valemen have a nobility of their own. Leon Ursus has displayed that to me before, such as when he protected a gladiator from being executed on the whim of my brother.”
Trajan had ordered Leon to do that, but August wasn’t about to mention that part.
Aeneas didn’t seem to be swayed. He still glowered at the thought of giving Leon a place in their hierarchy, regardless of his personal achievements in the magical arts. August could see that, but he wasn’t going to back down. Leon was the last living heir of House Raime, and the day would soon come when he decided to reclaim his birthright—or so August thought. It was best to give Leon some experience and prestige of successfully commanding a sizable unit at war before that happened.
“I understand your concerns, my friend,” August said in a conciliatory tone, “but this is something that will only aid us in our endeavor to defeat my traitorous brother. We aren’t exactly blessed with high-level mages, anyway.”
For a moment, Aeneas stared off at nothing in particular, lost in thought. When he looked back at August, though, his features were set in grudging acceptance.
“I will reserve judgment about the savage. For now.”
August nodded in gratitude, not minding the incredibly disrespectful way that Aeneas accepted. The Marquis was a landed noble who lived on the edge of the Bull Kingdom. He was unused to dealing with people higher ranked than he was, and as a landed noble he had certain privileges besides. In fact, August was secretly thrilled that Octavius had been purging the eastern nobles from the courts, for that alone cemented their placement in August’s faction; if the Marquis’ brother hadn’t been arrested or his son hadn’t fallen out of contact, August wasn’t sure if Aeneas would’ve fully committed to supporting him.
The two stayed awake a little while longer, discussing battle plans and other knights and minor Lords they could elevate to commanding positions. August made a few concessions for some of Aeneas’ friends in return for Aeneas withholding his objections for Leon’s appointment.
---
Leon stood, utterly stunned, before the Barons and hereditary knights that August had just put him in charge of who had gathered just outside his tent. Nearly all of them were glaring at him like he was something they had stepped in and tracked into their homes, but since none were of the sixth-tier, they were all silent. Which only made it that much more awkward for Leon, for he had no idea what to say to these people. The only reason they hadn’t immediately deserted, he thought, was because of that power—and probably because it was a direct command from August that gave him this authority.
Or maybe it was the stone giants standing behind him like a hundred massive, crudely carved stone statues, guarding him against danger. It was a toss-up, really.
“Uhh. Hmm. So…” Leon stammered, not quite sure where to begin.
“How about introductions?” Valeria quietly asked from right beside him. As she spoke, she drew some of the attention away from Leon, and he couldn’t help but notice quite a few of those hard gazes soften when they landed upon her.
“Right!” Leon quickly asked for said introductions, but he was so anxious and in his own head about it that the second the last person finished, he couldn’t remember a single name. “Well, uh, I’m Leon Ursus…” Leon said, noting many of the nobles around him scowl when he said his last name.
As Alix and Valeria were introducing themselves, Leon took a deep breath and then did a quick headcount. There were five Barons and twelve hereditary knights in his new unit, most of them fourth-tier and only three fifth-tier. He guessed that most of the knights and men-at-arms that followed them were on the weak side, too.
These were not going to be knights of the quality he was used to, he quickly realized. Trajan had high standards, but these were rural nobles, even if they had the money to bring three thousand fighting men and women with them.
Once the introductions were out of the way, Leon had gotten his head back on straight. He ordered the nobles to tell him the composition of their personal armies so that he knew what he was dealing with.
The reality of his situation was even more depressing than it had first appeared. It started fine when the first person—A Baroness at the fifth-tier who he assumed was the most politically powerful of his new temporary subordinates—said that she brought a hundred knights and two hundred men-at-arms. But then she proudly declared that she had levied hundreds of her peasants for the war effort, three hundred of which would be fighting alongside them.
The rest of the Barons brought similar numbers, while the hereditary knights only brought about a dozen mounted men-at-arms apiece. In total, of the three thousand men and women that Leon had been assigned to lead only about fifteen hundred were professional warriors—of those, about five hundred were mounted on horses, though few had heavy armor. That left him with fifteen hundred peasant levies and about two thousand camp servants that no one ever really counted—though he supposed that he didn’t need to worry about the latter, their Lords would be responsible for them.
“All right, well, I’ve got nothing else for all of you, so see to your people and I’ll send for someone to get all of you if the need arises,” Leon said in a clear dismissal, but while the knights took their cues to leave, the five Barons stuck around. Noticing that they weren’t leaving, he asked, “Something you all need?”
The first to speak up was the first Baroness, the one that had brought the most fighting troops.
“Out of curiosity, Sir Ursus,” she began, putting an infuriating amount of emphasis on Leon’s name that in itself emphasized the fact that he was foreign to the Kingdom, “who will be your second-in-command?”
The Baroness stared at him in expectation, her radiant green eyes shining like dull emeralds and reminding Leon a great deal of Elise and sending a ripple of sorrow and loneliness through him. He did not enjoy being away from his lover, and now that he was thinking about it, he couldn’t help but think about Naiad, too.
A year living with both of his lovers, and now he wasn’t even sure if he’d see either one of them again. That would all depend on whether he survived the war or not—though, he liked his chances.
Pushing that out of his mind, at least for the time being, Leon turned his attention back to the matter at hand. And he had only one answer for the Baroness, and he held a strong suspicion that she would hate it.
“Dame Valeria Isynos will be my second-in-command,” Leon declared, surprising all of the Barons and even Valeria herself—she was already his second in his retinue, but second-in-command of all the people he was in charge of was something else entirely.
“Sir…?” she quietly whispered, utterly shocked, flattered in his faith in her, and all kinds of other emotions she had no names for fluttered in her chest.
The Barons, however, were less than thrilled at his declaration. He saw it in their scornful faces, their looks of derision, and the way they stared at him as if he were a rabbit caught between them. He almost drew his blade until he realized that he wasn’t feeling any killing intent. It seemed the giants that backed him or his power as a sixth-tier mage was keeping them from mutinying at this apparent insult.
Of course, Leon knew that picking Valeria wasn’t the best choice—she was only twenty, the same age as him, and had even less experience in war than he did. Besides, if he picked one of the Barons, it could’ve been seen as an olive branch extended to them, showing them that he respected their positions and nobility.
Except that he didn’t respect those things, and he had no intention of pretending that he did. He wasn’t about to play the game of politics with these people. If they didn’t do what he wanted them to do, then he would either make them or dismiss them. It was that simple.
They’d either fall in line, or they wouldn’t. Either way, he still had a hundred fifth and sixth-tier stone giants, so a few thousand peasants and low-ranking knights didn’t quite have the same allure that they would’ve if Leon had been given this responsibility during the war with Talfar.
“Very well,” the Baroness replied, her face easily sliding back into a mask of complete serenity. “We serve at your pleasure, Sir,” she said as she turned around to leave, the other Barons following suit despite Leon not dismissing them again.
Not that he minded, he didn’t want to deal with them. He’d have rather been assigned some professional Legion soldiers to work with, but it was over and done with. He only had what he’d been given by Rakos and August, and he’d make do with what he had, no matter what they ended up deciding on.
Once the nobles were gone, Alix whispered in dejection, “Oh yeah, this is going to go great…”
“You have such confidence in me, it’s truly heartwarming,” Leon sarcastically replied.
“If I ever had confidence in your social skills, that display just killed it,” she replied with a cheeky smile. “I should get going, we have to make sure that we have a clear line of communication between us and them, and since your staff is basically just me and Valeria, the two of us now have a lot of work to do.”
Alix then began to pull Valeria away from Leon and into the camp. The younger woman glanced back over her shoulder, her clear blue eyes finding Leon’s for just a moment before turning away. It was a look of confusion, of gratitude and joy, and of apprehension and even a little bit of fear.
All of that Leon could understand. He felt much the same way, and Valeria was now likely feeling the pressure that came with command.
Leon took a deep breath and then made his way toward where August and the rest of the command staff were meeting—their scouts had located both Roland’s army and the army loyal to Octavius that was pursuing him, and they were all going to meet very soon. And before that happened, they’d need to prepare for a battle.
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