The two imperial soldiers wended there way through the Harudish encampment. One was a small, dark man with greasy hair and a cruel gleam in his one remaining eye, the other having been lost in a battle many years ago with a war party of the great barbarian chieftain Andelistes. The other was a large bluff blond man who strode through the filth with nary a glance. He was used to such conditions, having been raised as a laborer on one of the empires great plantations until he had joined the army barely a year before. This marked him as an oddity, a genuine imperial at the post. Most of the higher ranking officers were citizens of course, and some of the captains. The vast majority of the men in ranks were locals however, some were tawny-haired westermen or dusky-hued islanders from the Sea of Armagh, although most were simply of mixed heritage, a legacy of the advance of the imperial legions and the plague of bastards they left behind.
"We're gonna make a mint in this place." Declared Hahnel, the smaller of the two.
"What do you mean, aren't we just supposed to find someone to take charge of the relief supplies over here?"
"No, captain said we needed coin ta pay fer tha new citadel. He said since it was ta protect the empire from these ragged-ass barbarians, s'only right they pay for it, huh."
"It doesn't look like they have much in the way of money."
"Then I guess we need to take it in kind from what they do have."
This puzzled Tiro, even walking the periphery of the disorganized mass of the refugees was enough to tell him that they had little but the clothes on their backs. They had some pack animals, some of the men still had weapons, but most of them were in poor condition and would hardly be worth trading. More to the point, Tiro couldn't see why the general wanted a new fortress when the river provided such an effective natural obstacle. This was one of the few suitable crossing sites for hundreds of miles and even here the Hurus was close to half a mile across and flowed swift and deep. Even with the sorry state of the imperial garrison and the sheer size of the barbarian host, Tiro did not think they could carry out any kind of assault, let alone a successful one.
His thoughts were interrupted as a large man stepped out in front of them. He was dressed in the mail and fur of a chieftain, and he carried at his side an axe almost as tall as him. Despite this Tiro could see that his once massive frame had shrunk and his eyes had the fever bright glow of one facing starvation.
"Inta-hunye gorsenn ail yeja!"
Tiro starred uncomprehendingly, but Hahnel had been chosen for this task specifically. His mother had been a slave taken from her home by an imperial raid and he had been raised among other Harudish slaves.
"We come from across the river in the name of General Turiyos. He had ordered us to bring food to trade with you."
"Trade," spat the axeman, "You make me sick, what would you have of us, our dying horses, or the rags from our backs!"
At the sound of the barbarians anger, Hahnel saw a small head peek out of the makeshift tent behind him. A girl of no more than ten, with shockingly blue eyes stared at the soldiers. She had been raised to hate these men, but as she set eyes on them for the first time she knew only a deep, formless dread."
Hahnel smiled at the girl, exposing several missing teeth. "There is much call for workers in the empire, there is no reason for your family to starve. Tell me, how many children do you have?"
No comments:
Post a Comment