NOVEL NEXT B2 Chapter 46: Horsing Around
B2 Chapter 46: Horsing Around
"Legion, halt!"
The long column of men obliged, scrunching up like an inchworm as the order was relayed back. Gaius sat tall upon his horse as he continued using commands. "We rest here before continuing on. Break and be ready to march again in twenty minutes."
The Legionnaire slipped from his saddle as Marcus did the same, rubbing his backside gratefully. He was no fan of riding, but with how much [Running] he'd been doing recently? There was no chance he'd refuse an opportunity to travel without having to move his own two feet.
He tried to pat his horse on the neck, only for it to shake his hand off. The beast seemed to glare at him before turning its nose up in the other direction.
"Fine, then." He muttered. "I try to be nice and see what I get…'
Marcus rolled his neck and looked around as Legionnaires began to do the same. Many dug in their packs for rations and water to down during the brief respite. He even saw a few games of dice start up.
In all honesty, the Legion was capable of keeping a far better pace than this. But between the fact that they were heading to the duchy in peace and the pair of women they were escorting, some concessions had to be made. It meant that horses had only been galloping for most of the day rather than outright sprinting or being left in the dust. Which was fortunate, given that his mount wasn't exactly the highest quality.
The horse panted, gratefully gulping at the water of the river they'd paused near. Turning to Gaius, Marcus raised a questioning eyebrow. "I'm surprised that there weren't better horses to be found in Hausten. Not that I'm complaining, of course."
Gaius shook his head. "There were. However, there was apparently an… issue. A rather large one."
"An issue?"
"Yeah. A bit of a freak accident, from what I hear. I'm still not entirely certain that Quintus and his men weren't messing with me." Gaius shrugged. "Either way, it's not my story to tell. You should ask him about it when we return."
He pressed the young officer a few more times for info, but he remained tight-lipped. Still, Marcus couldn't help but notice him occasionally scanning the sky with a furrowed brow.
The mention made him frown. He'd thought there had been a rather strange lack of horses throughout the barony and a bit beyond. But he'd never really paid the rumors any mind. He was no horse trader, and it didn't particularly affect him aside from making a few late-night escapes from various towns a little less expeditious.
Besides, he didn't like horses. Nor had they ever really liked him.
Taking a quick swig of his own water, Marcus made his way down the column. In addition to the century accompanying them, Tiberius had also sent along some extra guards whose sole task was to guard the baroness. But those weren't the extent of their forces.
A small herd of massive deer stood proudly alongside the column, separate but clearly allied. A group of green-robed elves sat astride them, with the diplomat Iladrien in the front. The smooth-featured warriors talked quietly amongst themselves as they waited for the march to resume.
Marcus approached the lead elf as he dismounted, an affable smile on his face. "Iladrien, my friend!"
"Bard." The elf looked Marcus up and down with a skeptical expression. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
The fact that a delegation of elves had accompanied Gaius to Hausten was a surprise in and of itself. However, the degree to which those elves seemed to show him deference was the real shock.
Sure, he'd been around when Iladrien had revealed elven society's connection to Rome, at least this world's Rome. But for such a proud and seemingly aloof people to show this amount of respect was still absolutely astonishing.
So astonishing, in fact, that Marcus had insisted that they also accompany their group to the duchy. After all, what better way to impress the duke than to walk up to his doorstep with a reclusive and powerful race pledging allegiance to Rome? Even if he made the same mistake of brushing off the army of level fours, their allies would be harder to ignore.
Marcus spread his hands in a motion that sent his purple cape fluttering. "I can't help but admit some fair bit of curiosity about your people and their histories. And while we were able to speak some during your last visit, our conversation did little more than whet my appetite. Would you be willing to indulge this humble performer once again?"
The elf tilted his head. "You wish to know of elven history?"
"Of course. One can learn much from the tales that a civilization deems worthy of preserving, and the great deeds that spawned them."
Iladrien adopted a thoughtful look. "I'll admit that I find myself surprised. I was certain that a bard such as yourself would be more interested in our songs and fables."
"Of course, I am keenly interested in those as well. But I am a collector of stories of all kinds, friend. And besides, if there is one thing I have learned, it is that all great stories are rooted in truth." He grinned.
The elf chuckled. "Very well. I suppose we have some time to spare."
With that, Iladrien began to speak on the culture of his people. It was a very high-level summary of what sounded like a far more nuanced matter, but it gave Marcus a baseline from which to start asking questions.
Not that he had any shortage of those. The elves were a mystery to all but a few, after all, meaning that tales about them were mostly based on conjecture or secondhand rumors. Even those few merchants that did trade directly with them rarely delved so far as to visit population centers and the like, dealing instead with intermediaries and individuals that roamed the forest.
Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.
From what Iladrien said, there were two main camps when it came to the elves of the Great Ruthin Forest, the few who held to the shreds of the "old ways" and those who embraced the "new".
The more modern, imperial elves followed the "new ways." Those of the imperial systems of governance and culture. They had a governor, albeit one who answered to some kind of senate, and seemed to place a lot of value on duty, discipline, and dignity. In all honesty, it sounded to Marcus as though the imperial elves had done quite a good job of preserving Roman culture at least, from his admittedly still incomplete understanding of it. It helped that elves were long enough lived that many were actual members of the empire in their lifetimes.
The old ways were from before the first coming of the Romans. Most of the elves who had been alive during those times were now ancient and had converted to the empire. Though there were a few who argued for an end to the forest's isolationist policies and a return to nature as the highest good. They tended to spurn the civilization and values of the Imperial elves in favor of living amongst the trees and wandering the land. Because of that, they were often called "wood elves" by their imperial brethren.
Based on Iladrien's attitude when he spoke of these wood elves, it wasn't hard to tell which camp he fell into.
"When you speak of these 'old ways'..." Marcus interjected. "How old do you mean?"
Iladrien sighed. "That is not as simple a question as you may suspect. As much as our people have worked to maintain the empire, no civilization is unchanging. And with the length of our lifespans, there have been many different ways of tracking time since they were largely abandoned. I think the last time they were in full practice it was perhaps a few dozen millennia ago, in your years?"
Marcus blinked. He had expected it to be a long time, but that… that was far more ancient than he'd expected. If Tiberius's Rome had persisted for that long in his world, then it must have been a greater empire than he imagined.
"The empire reigned for only a few millennia, so some wood elves use that evidence to claim that the "old ways" had lasted much longer and were therefore superior. However, they neglect to remember that they were the most prosperous and peaceful time in our history. And that in the time since we have flourished even away from the rest of the world." Iladrien said with fire in his voice.
Marcus could only imagine how bloody their history or "old ways" had been if the Romans were considered peaceful. That had not been his experience with them so far.
They spent the remainder of their rest speaking about elven culture and history, then continued their conversation as the column got moving once more. Based on their askance glances, Marcus could tell that Iladrien and his men also held a healthy disdain for horses like he did. However, riding the beast allowed Marcus to stay near a practical speaking height with the elf as they moved. That, and allowed him to actually continue the conversation without [Running] alongside the column as he desperately gasped for breath.
The more they spoke, the more he got the impression that the imperial and wood elves held more in common than either of them would like to admit. To them, the idea that "the forest is the greatest asset of the Imperial province" was vastly different from saying "the forest is the greatest asset of the elven race," enough so that countless wars had been fought over the distinction. And that was to say nothing of the other splinter groups of elves that could be found throughout the world like sea elves, ice elves, or even drow.
Of course, Marcus didn't voice such thoughts. That seemed like the quickest way to offend the imperial elven diplomat and bring their conversation to a screeching halt. But while Marcus was eager to continue, reality unfortunately intruded in the form of a shout from Gaius.
"Form up! Prepare for battle!"
The sudden crack of his voice had Marcus swiveling around in an instant. The column had already come to a screeching halt, the centurions barking orders as it rearranged into a defensive formation. He looked around for the threat, but could see nothing in any direction. That was, until he recalled how Gaius had been looking up.
Marcus's eyes rose skyward. There in the distance, a large pink dot was approaching from the west. Its size grew with alarming speed, and its trajectory seemed to indicate that it was headed straight for their direction. Gaius seemed to think the same, given how he'd sounded the alarm.
The Legionnaires that had projectiles and ranged weapons began to ready them. Slings unwrapped from waists and mobile ballistae were tensioned in preparation for the coming threat. Gaius appeared at Marcus's side, strangely on foot rather than atop his horse.
"Dismount. Now."
"What—"
"That thing eats horses. So unless you want to end up as a nice bit of flaming garnish atop its dinner of horseflesh, you need to get down now."
Marcus didn't need to be told again. He scrambled down from the horse in a rush. Before his feet even touched the ground, a Legionnaire had it by the reins and began to rush it away.
"We're sending the horses away from the column to avoid collateral damage. If we're as lucky as Quintus was, it'll be satisfied with just our mounts." Gaius turned to Iladrien. "I don't know if it has a taste for deer. But unless you have a way to defeat that thing, I'd recommend doing the same."
Iladrien grimaced and shook his head. "I fear that is not an option for us. Our steeds are more than just mounts. To lose them would be crushing. But rest assured, we shall distance ourselves to ensure that our refusal does not bring trouble down upon your men."
Iladrien wheeled around on his massive deer. As one, the other elves followed, their mounts bounding gracefully away with impressive speed. Perhaps they might even be fast enough to outrun the dragon. But Marcus had no time to marvel at the sight.
The pink dot quickly resolved into a massive dragon whose spread wings seemed to fill the skies. A quick appraisal of the creature made the situation even more clear. They couldn't fight that thing. It was so many orders of magnitude above that adventuring party that it wasn't even funny. No matter how strong the Legion was, it would be suicidal.
"Hold your fire until it shows signs of aggression towards us!" He heard Gaius shout. "We don't want to gain its attention if we can avoid it."
Marcus pulled the young officer aside and pointed. "That is what happened to Quintus's horses?" At his answering nod, Marcus's voice took on a hint of incredulity. "Why the hell did we bring them then?!"
"Well who the fuck would have imagined it happens again?!" Gaius shouted in exasperation. "It sounded too absurd to be anything more than a fluke!"
Marcus narrowed his eyes. "...You just really didn't want to march, did you?"
"Now's not the time for this!" Gaius scowled, his face reddening. "Get moving! If that thing decides to come after us, you'd better be ready to fight too!"
Marcus took the non-answer as a "yes", but didn't push it further. Instead, he readied his spellbook and flipped to a page near the back. He held no illusions that even the strongest of his spells would so much as tarnish the quartz luster of its scales. But if the alternative was certain death, then he'd have to try.
The giant beast swooped down into a dive toward their formation. He felt every man around him tense and ready their weapons. But before it reached them, the dragon swerved sideways toward the trio of horses they'd sent away from the formation.
The dragon scorched, snapped up, and swallowed the sorry steeds one after another. First Gaius's, then Marcus's, and finally the mount that had been carrying the baroness and her daughter. Each disappeared into the toothy maw in a rather macabre display of flames and bloody viscera.
Marcus supposed he now had an answer for why there were so few horses in the area.
Once it had finished, the dragon let out a puff of smoke in apparent satisfaction. Then, it took to the skies once more, shrinking as it disappeared behind a hill. Everyone breathed a collective sigh of relief and relaxed. The attack had left them alive and unharmed, save for the three mounts.
Their relief lasted for less than a minute before the dragon circled back.