Stiger’s Tigers (Chronicles of An Imperial Legionary Officer Book 1) (22 page)

“Yes, he is.”

“I would very much like to meet him.”

“He is recovering,” Stiger explained. “However, I am confident he would be willing to meet with you when he is well enough to do so.”

“Thank you, Captain, I would appreciate that.”

“I am not sure how long I will be here; most likely at least two to three months, at least until a replacement can be appointed,” Stiger said, changing the subject. “In that time, I would like to build a working relationship with you and the people of the valley. Perhaps even a written agreement that if accepted by the commanding general of the South, would have lasting repercussions for the peace of the valley and how the garrison interacts with your people after I leave.”

“I would be willing to work with you,” Bester said, not sure if he would really be able to trust this man.

“The captain is an honorable man,” Eli added, turning from the window and showing his face for the first time. The councilman’s eyes widened.

“An elf!” Bester exclaimed, standing in astonishment. “You must be an elf! I never thought I would meet an elf.”

Eli approached the table and offered a slight bow. “I am Lieutenant Eli’Far.”

“You keep interesting company, Captain,” Bester said, not taking his eyes off Eli.

“‘Interesting’ does not do justice to this one’s life,” Eli said with a close-mouthed smile. It seemed that he just could not resist a friendly jab.

“Can we work together, Councilman Bester?” Stiger asked. “Can you keep the peace of the valley long enough for me to gain control of the entire garrison?”

“I will do what I can,” Bester said, dragging his eyes away from Eli and back to Stiger. He sat once again. “I will need to speak with a number of people. Captain Aveeno confiscated all of the horses. It would be most helpful if I could borrow one, along with a pass to travel freely.”

“I am sure we can find you a horse from the stables,” Stiger said. “I have already sent orders nullifying the requirement of passes. You should have no problem traveling freely.”

“Thank you for that, Captain.”

“What else can I do to help the people of the valley?”

“Help?” Bester asked and laughed nervously. “Do you really mean that?”

“Yes,” Stiger said sincerely. “I mean what I say.”

“Captain Aveeno confiscated much of our food stores and animals,” Bester admitted grimly. “We are looking at a hard winter.”

Stiger had learned that Captain Aveeno had amassed a hoard of food to keep the garrison fed throughout the winter. It was another way to keep them loyal. Aveeno had made a real mess of things, Stiger thought with frustration and anger. Or perhaps it had been the creature controlling him. Stiger found the concept of losing control to such an agent of evil frightening. When Father Thomas woke, Stiger planned to speak with him at length about it. Regardless, once the supply train arrived, the cache of stores the garrison had confiscated would be mostly irrelevant.

“I will return all that I can,” Stiger said. “We have a supply train that will arrive within the next few days. I do not see food for your people or the garrison being an issue this winter.”

“Thank you, Captain,” Bester said, brightening. There was still distrust in his eyes, but Stiger could also now see a glimmer of hope. “That will go a long way toward building faith.”

“I hope to do much more,” Stiger responded. “I would like to meet with your full council to work out a permanent agreement.”

“I will need to speak with a number of people first. I do not think arranging a meeting will be a problem,” Councilman Bester said. “Do you wish to hold it here or in the valley?”

“The castle would be best, I think,” Stiger replied, then decided a concession might be in order. “However, if the council is more comfortable, I will travel to a place of your choosing in the valley.”

“Excuse me, sir,” Sergeant Ranl interrupted, poking his head into the room. “Legionary Beck is here with the eagle.”

“Send him in.” So strong was the 13
^th
’s history with the legions that Stiger had made sure that the men of the castle garrison whom he had given a second chance had had an opportunity to see it. Legionary Beck was now returning with it. Stiger hoped the eagle, as a symbol, would help cement his control and reinforce loyalty to the empire.

Legionary Beck entered rapidly. A stand for the eagle’s pole had been fashioned in the corner. Councilman Bester’s eyes widened as he saw the eagle. He gave the captain a calculating look, which neither Stiger nor Eli missed. Bester looked back at the eagle, which Beck set in its stand. The legionary saluted his captain before he left.

“Forgive my misunderstanding, Captain Stiger, but I had thought you were the senior officer,” Bester said smoothly. “Should I be speaking with the general in charge of the legion?”

“Councilman Bester, I am the senior officer in charge,” Stiger said with a frown. “I was under the impression we had already established that fact.”

“I understood that imperial eagles traveled with the general commanding the legion,” Bester explained, gesturing at the eagle. “Am I mistaken?”

“No, you are quite correct.” Stiger exchanged a quick glance with Eli. “This eagle was lost with the 13
^th
. We were able to recover it on our march here and will be returning it to the emperor.”

“A lost eagle … very interesting,” Bester said, a strange expression crossing his face. “I did not realize the legions ever misplaced their eagles.”

“They typically do not,” Stiger said, his tone harder than he wished. The man was playing with him for some reason. He softened his tone. “The 13th legion was lost in the South many years ago, along with her eagle.”

“I see.” Bester made a show of glancing over at the window. “It is late afternoon. There are a number of people I must speak with to arrange a council meeting. The first is in Rivertown, and if I leave now I should get there by nightfall.”

“Of course,” Stiger said, standing. The councilman stood as well. “When can I expect your return and word on the meeting with the council?”

“Three or four days should be sufficient,” the councilman said, with a glance at the eagle. “When I see you next, I would love to hear more about this ‘lost’ eagle and how you recovered it.”

“Sergeant Ranl,” Stiger called.

“Sir?” The sergeant appeared in the doorway.

“Please see that Councilman Bester gets a good horse along with a saddle, rations and sufficient feed from the castle stables.”

“I will, sir,” Sergeant Ranl stated.

“It was a pleasure meeting you.” Stiger offered Bester his hand, which the councilman shook.

“The same for both of you.” Bester’s eyes lingered a moment on Eli before his gaze shifted to the eagle again. Before he left, Stiger thought he caught a slight shake of the man’s head as he walked out.

Stiger sat down and was silent, thinking. Eli took Bester’s former seat.

“I believe he has seen this eagle before,” Eli said, tapping the table with an idle finger.

“Perhaps,” Stiger said, pouring himself a mug of wine from a pitcher on the table. He took a sip and savored its taste, finding it quite good. One of the castle servants had explained that it was made here in the valley. The wine rivaled some of the best of imperial vintages that were available in the Mal’Zeel. Once the rebellion in the South was resolved, Stiger intended to send an agent to purchase an interest in its production and begin importing it to the heart of the empire. With any luck, it would prove a sound investment.

“Perhaps,” Stiger said again, considering Bester. “Perhaps not.”

“The people of this valley must have suffered terribly,” Eli said, having poured himself a mug of wine as well. He took a sip, then returned to the window and looked out over the valley.

“I clearly have a lot of work to do to gain their trust,” Stiger agreed.

“Fixing roads, roofs, and helping to take in what remains of the harvest might be a good start,” Eli suggested.

“Between training, it would certainly keep the men busy,” Stiger agreed, “and we both know busy means out of trouble.”

“The South has proven to be very different than the North,” Eli said wistfully, turning back to the window.

“More like all upside down,” Stiger responded.

Seventeen

The officers commanding the three forts in the valley had arrived, according to the summons Stiger had sent them. All three were very relieved that Captain Aveeno was no more and that the madness had ended. They were all young, this being their first assignment. Stiger spent time with each of the lieutenants, learning about what they had been through and the state of their men. All three seemed to be good men, though jaded by recent events. They were still very wet behind the ears, experience-wise.

Unsurprisingly, Stiger confirmed, there was tremendous hostility between the people living in the valley and the garrison. He intended to rectify that, but it would take time. He knew he had a lot to do. By order of seniority, he was responsible for the entire garrison and the civilian population in the valley. Oddly, there were no allied auxiliaries comprising part of the garrison. Most garrisons were primarily made up of auxiliaries, with only a handful of legionaries to act as a backbone. It was all very strange.

Stiger had called a meeting, which included all of the lieutenants, along with their lead sergeants. This also included Eli, Ikely, Peal, Ranl and Blake. Stiger had also invited Sergeant Boral.

They stood around the large table in the room that served as his headquarters. A map of the valley was spread across the table. It was an old map that Ranl had found in the castle’s dusty library, which had apparently sat unused for years. Stiger had placed stones on the map, indicating the locations of the three forts. From his interviews, he had learned they were nothing but simple, rough wooden structures without walls.

“I expect you to construct proper legionary fortifications,” Stiger ordered. “In between training your men, you will work on this daily. The civilians in the valley are hostile. Until we can change that attitude, I want our men protected and confined behind the walls.”

“Sir,” Lieutenant Banister spoke up. He commanded one of the infantry companies. “Captain Aveeno selected the locations for our forts. They are not in the best areas. Mine, for instance, has no access to fresh water. I must send a wagon at least two miles to fetch water.”

“Find a more suitable site,” Stiger ordered. “Be mindful of the civilians, though. We need to build bridges and not burn them.”

Stiger thought for a moment. The company garrisoning the castle had been in poor shape. He suspected those in the valley were in the same condition. Seven levels, he thought, the legions of the South were simply rotten. He struggled for a moment with what he wanted to say. These lieutenants were fairly fresh men, with little real experience. Their more experienced seniors had all been cut down. Stiger decided to come out and say what needed saying.

“Having come from the North, I have been personally appalled by the conditions here in the South. I want you to understand I will not tolerate slovenly and lax standards. Your men are legionaries. I expect them to look and act the part. I also expect you to get your men into proper shape. Is that understood?”

There was a chorus of yeses. Stiger was in command and it was that simple.

“I have provided each of you a ‘suggested’ schedule of training.” Stiger paused. He knew the men would resent the training, as his own company had. Each of the garrison companies would have to be rebuilt from the ground up. That would take time. He hoped the people in the valley would give him time and that the bad feelings had not reached the tipping point yet.

“Keeping the boys busy will also keep them out of trouble,” Boral added. Stiger actually smiled. He was beginning to take a shine to this man. In private, Blake had gone out of his way to vouch for Boral.

“Exactly,” Stiger agreed. “From what I understand, you are short sergeants and corporals. Promote additional corporals from men you trust and can rely on. Any candidates for sergeant I would like to meet before giving my approval.”

Stiger was asking a lot from these young officers. A typical company was led by three officers, one captain and two lieutenants. Until replacements arrived, they would be running the show by themselves. This was garrison duty, and hopefully things would remain quiet.

“Sir,” Lieutenant Cannol said after a moment. He commanded the cavalry company. Why General Kromen had detailed a cavalry company to garrison duty was beyond Stiger. It seemed a waste, unless they had been initially meant to patrol the road—but even that was a waste, since the road was bracketed almost entirely by forest. Foot soldiers would have been better suited to keeping the road clear.

“About helping the locals …”

“Yes?”

“How do you want us to fit that in with the training schedule you have outlined?”

“I expect you to rotate detachments in and out of the training schedule.”

“Are you sure you want us to help these people?” Lieutenant Brent asked. “They hate us.”

“I know,” Stiger responded. “We need to change that. We need a quiet posting here, especially after Captain Aveeno stirred up animosity. They outnumber us. It could get ugly, and I believe we are not prepared for a revolt here in the valley.”

“I am in agreement with you, sir,” Cannol said, and the other two garrison lieutenants nodded.

“I have spoken with Councilman Bester and laid the foundation for a better relationship. Look at it this way: winter is coming. These people are facing starvation without a return of their food stores. That alone should go a long way to smoothing things over. Helping to repair roofs, barns, fences, gathering firewood … the little things will all go a long way toward changing their view. We need to win these people over with a little kindness and respect. I would rather have these people working with us than against us. Do all of you understand?”

There were nods around the table. Despite the nods, Stiger knew that they harbored reservations. He would be forced to check on their progress to confirm they were doing as he intended. It would not be easy. Seven levels, nothing ever done right was easy.

“Good,” Stiger said. He leaned over the map and traced a line that represented a road. “I have a question. This road leading north into the mountains—where does it lead?”

There were surprised expressions all around as everyone looked closely at the map. Nothing on the map indicated there was anything at the end of the road. It was damn strange; a road to nowhere.

“My fort is the closest and I know of no road, sir,” Cannol answered with a frown. “Hillside and trees up that way.”

“The map looks very old,” Brent said. “Perhaps there once was a road but no longer? It’s all forest up there anyway, so perhaps there was once a logging road.”

Eli exchanged a look with Stiger. The captain knew what his friend was thinking: dwarves. The map was extremely old and showed its age. It was possible that it was even of dwarven manufacture.

“Something is, or was, there,” Stiger stated. “You don’t go to the effort to build a road to nowhere. Eli, send a couple of your scouts to see what they can find.”

“What do you expect to find?” Cannol asked.

“Dwarves,” Eli answered quietly and got quite a few surprised looks in return.

“You are jesting,” Brent said with a laugh. “Dwarves? Seriously.”

“Fairy tales,” Cannol chuckled, then cut it off at the serious look on the captain’s face.

“They built this castle,” Eli stated, gesturing around them. “Dwarves are very much a real people.”

“The lieutenant,” Stiger interrupted, raising a hand to forestall any further protest, “has had personal experience with dwarves.”

There was a knock at the open door. Father Thomas stood in the entrance, wearing a simple tunic and pants. He was unarmed. All eyes turned to him. It was the first time Stiger had seen the paladin unarmed and without his armor. It was also the first time the man had been up and about. He looked worn, and somehow older.

“May I introduce Father Thomas,” Stiger announced. All the men in the room had heard how Father Thomas had fought the evil within Captain Aveeno. More than a few blinked in astonishment or dropped their jaws. Stiger could guess they had expected a mountain of a man in shining armor; an impressive warrior of the High Father. Instead they received a middle-aged, physically fit man, who could pass for a legionary officer out of uniform.

“Captain,” Father Thomas said, approaching the table. Since no one was sitting, he took the nearest available chair. He lowered himself carefully into it. “I apologize for my lengthy absence. Fighting the agent of Castor took a lot out of me.”

“I’ve been wondering about that,” Stiger said. “Was Captain Aveeno possessed by this evil from Castor, or was he the agent?”

“I would not exactly say ‘possessed’,” Father Thomas replied sadly. “Castor works more subtly. I suppose Captain Aveeno was likely more of a willing participant at first, perhaps in an attempt to satisfy his own ambition. You see, once Castor gains access to part of one’s soul, the darkness spreads like a cancer, until the host is completely under the Twisted One’s dominion, permitting or really opening a conduit for a minion. Think of it as an evil spirit who enters our world and takes control of the host. Had the corruption continued, this entire valley would have fallen under Castor’s power.”

Several of the men at the table turned pale. Boral, having witnessed the struggle first-hand, made the warding sign of the High Father.

“How exactly did he become a follower of Castor?” Ikely asked.

“That, I am afraid, we will likely never know,” Father Thomas admitted with a shrug. “Perhaps he came across a priest at some point and sought a favor, or perhaps it was something altogether different.”

“A priest of Castor?” Brent exclaimed, shocked.

“A horrid thought,” Cannol breathed, equally appalled.

“Yes, it is,” Father Thomas agreed distantly. “Though this was somewhat different. It felt almost as though Castor was attempting to establish a more solid presence in this world. Such an attempt has not been seen for a very long time.”

“Father,” Brent said, stepping forward, “may I be the first to thank you for delivering us from evil?”

“The High Father deserves your thanks,” Father Thomas stated firmly. “I am only his humble instrument, and a blunt one at that.”

“Then I will offer thanks to both.” The lieutenant offered and shook Father Thomas’ hand. One by one, the others did as well.