The Tiger’s Wrath (Chronicles of An Imperial Legionary Officer Book 5)

by Marc Edelheit

  “So,” Stiger said, suddenly amused, “I would be your consort or something like that?”

  “Something like that,” Taha’Leeth said.

  Stiger was silent for a prolonged moment as he thought. He recalled Eli’s words back at Castle Vrell, specifically his warning.

  “Was he right?” Stiger asked. “Was Tenya’Far correct about how his people and yours will see us? As an abomination?”

  Taha’Leeth stepped back over to the wine jar and poured herself some more. When she turned back to face him, her face was grave. “It will be difficult for many. Some will accept my choice, and some will not. As we just discussed, all things, given time…change. I hope many will come to understand and live with our union.”

  “What if they don’t?”

  “Then there will be a new sovereign,” Taha’Leeth said.

  “I don’t think I like the sound of that,” Stiger said.

  “In a manner of speaking, it would be a relief. Long have I been sovereign. It might be time for me to pass that responsibility to another.”

  “You would give up everything for me?”

  “What matters is the two of us,” Taha’Leeth said. “When Tanithe showed me the vision, I resisted, rejected it, railed against my destiny. I did so knowing that it meant hope, freedom, and a new path for my people…and yet, the gods, in their wisdom, give us free will. I never conceived I would or could love a human, stand to be with one even, and share his bed.” She fell silent as a single tear ran down her cheek. “Then, I got to know you, see you in action, and touch your spirit. Ben, I have made my choice and am happy for doing so. Would I could, I would not take any of it back, even the worst of my mistakes. You and I are meant to be together.”

  Stiger took a few moments to absorb that. “We could tear your people apart.”

  “That is one possibility. Change is another,” Taha’Leeth said. “Tanithe and the High Father saw fit to bring us together for a purpose. You and I are fulfilling that purpose. My people have been through a lot. I believe in time they will come to understanding and acceptance.”

  “I hope you are right,” Stiger said, for he had enough problems. Then something occurred to him. “How has Aver’Mons taken the news?”

  “Not well,” Taha’Leeth said, “but I believe he is coming around. It is a little more complicated with him. I was mated to his brother.”

  “And you’re telling me this now?” Stiger was aghast.

  “Would it have mattered?” Taha’Leeth asked him. “He will despise you just the same if he desires.”

  “No,” Stiger said, after thinking about it for a moment. “You are right. It would not have mattered.”

  He turned his gaze back to his desk and leaned forward, reaching out a hand toward the emperor’s letter. He hesitated. It was almost as if he feared the letter would burn him. He prodded it with a finger, then picked it up.

  “We are meant to be together,” Taha’Leeth said insistently. “That is the end of it. Do you understand? No others have a say in the matter but us.”

  Stiger gave a nod and returned his attention to the unopened letter.

  “Well?” she asked, stepping nearer.

  “Well what?” Stiger looked up at her.

  “Aren’t you going to open it?” Taha’Leeth asked, gesturing at the letter with her mug. “What are you waiting for?”

  That was a very good question. For a long while he had been out of contact with the empire. There had been no direction to follow, no orders constraining him. It had allowed Stiger tremendous freedom to take the path he thought right. The emperor’s letter represented a return to imperial control and authority, which was why he hesitated and was procrastinating even now. What orders or instructions would the letter contain? How would it affect actions he felt compelled to take?

  “Enough,” Stiger said under his breath and broke the wax seal with his thumbnail. He tore it open and pulled out the letter from within. Unfolding the parchment, he read. It was brief, more so than he had expected. He read it a second time and then expelled a breath, realizing it had been written in the emperor’s own hand, which was unusual. He recognized the writing. It meant either the emperor had been rushed or he had not wanted anyone else to know the contents. He set the letter down on the desk, leaned back on his stool, and closed his eyes with a feeling of utter relief.

  “What did it say?”

  Stiger motioned for her to take the letter, which she did.

  “Ben,” she read aloud, “old friend, I am confirming your appointment as legate of the Thirteenth Imperial Legion. This will ultimately prove unpopular with the senate, not to mention many other powerful families. I have no doubt about that. However, I must consider and weigh the survival of the empire. In this, I am serving the empire’s needs. The days ahead will be dark and trying…so says the master wizard who counsels us. As was foretold, during Atticus’s reign, you are in the right place at the right time. The hand of destiny guides you as Champion. I am assembling the legions north of Lorium. By the time this letter reaches you, this information will be weeks, if not months, old. Do what you will and what must be done. In the name of the empire and the High Father, you have my full support. With any luck, we shall once again meet as friends. Tioclesion.”

  It was not at all what he had expected. He wished it had been more informative and helpful. And yet, it left him with more questions. Who was this wizard? Would Ogg know him? Was he a threat? Was the advice the emperor was receiving sound? Tioclesion’s full support and a free hand to do what he thought best? He had not expected that, not in the least.

  She set the letter back down on the table. “You are friends with the emperor, this Tioclesion? Eli told me your family was in disgrace, yes? Your father led a rebellion against the empire. And yet both you and the emperor are friends? How?”

  Stiger looked up into her captivating eyes. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, so much so, at times just gazing upon her was an almost physical hurt. He felt he could easily lose himself within her gaze. Heck, he wanted to.

  “Boyhood friends only. We played together in the palace.” Stiger sucked in a breath and let it out slowly. “There was a fight over succession to the throne. It escalated into an all-out civil war. My father was one of the most respected generals of the empire. He chose to back the eldest son, the one he considered the rightful heir, and led his legions against Tioclesion. Unfortunately, it would end up proving to be the wrong side to back. My family paid a steep price. It almost undid us.”

  “Was your father defeated in battle?” Taha’Leeth asked.

  “No,” Stiger said. “I don’t think he ever lost a battle he fought. Though I hate to admit it, he was that good.”

  “What happened to the heir your father supported?”

  “He was assassinated,” Stiger said, “and then there was nothing to fight for, no other claimants to the curule chair. Well, none the senate would consider supporting. The rebellion swiftly collapsed and then it was over.”

  “Because of your friendship with the current emperor, your family survived?” Taha’Leeth surmised.

  “Partly,” Stiger said. “Many others were put to death or enslaved as punishment. We were lucky, if you could call it that. My father and I escaped with our lives and not much more than that. You see, he agreed to surrender his legions without a fight. That was really the main reason we were spared.”

  Taha’Leeth took a long pull from her wine. She eyed him for several heartbeats.

  “You blame him,” Taha’Leeth said, “for all that happened to you, including the surrender?”

  “I do,” Stiger said.

  “Some of my people blame me for my actions,” Taha’Leeth admitted. “They will never forgive.” She looked down into her mug and swirled the contents around. “Have you considered that your father’s choices and your own have made you into the man you are today, the High Father’s Champion, a great leader of men, and my mate?”

  Stiger felt t
he scar on his cheek pull tight as he frowned at the thought. For so long, he had blamed his father for all his ills and everything that had happened to the family. It seemed strange suddenly to consider without him…he would not be where he was today, sitting in this tent with the most beautiful and exotic woman he’d ever met, not to mention leading a legion to help save the empire and spearhead the High Father’s cause. Stiger rubbed his jaw as he contemplated her point.

  “You have been greatly blessed,” Taha’Leeth said. “There is no denying that.”

  “I’ve always judged him harshly,” Stiger admitted. “Perhaps there is truth in what you say.”

  “There is no perhaps about it. Our choices, and those made before us, make us who we are.” She touched her chest with the palm of her hand. “They shape and mold us. You may rightly blame your father for the mistakes he made on his own personal journey through life and the adversity you faced, but without that…you would not be you. Understand my meaning?”

  “I would be different,” Stiger breathed as he followed her reasoning home, “almost in a way someone else completely. Things might be better or worse.”

  “Exactly,” Taha’Leeth said. “I have lived a very long life, many of your lifetimes. I’ve made mistakes, terrible ones too, that led to the suffering of my people. I shall never be able to atone for all the wrong I’ve done… And yet, knowing what I know now, if I could go back and change my past, I would not. Without making missteps or failing, there is no experience to be gained, nothing to learn from, no regrets to make us try harder the next time…do better.”

  Stiger glanced down at the letter, seeing it with new eyes. “It is something to think on.”

  “Yes, it is. And now, your friend, the emperor is putting his faith in you,” Taha’Leeth said.

  “It would seem so,” Stiger said.

  She picked up the letter again, scanning it. “There doesn’t appear to be any seeming to do with it. It is very clear to me. He has faith in you.” She looked up. “I too have put my faith in you. You will not fail me, just as you won’t fail the emperor or your empire. You will do what you think right, just as you’ve always done. You are the High Father’s Champion.”

  Stiger gave her a simple nod. The burden he bore at times seemed very heavy. After reading Tioclesion’s letter, it weighed more heavily upon him. There had been no real instruction, and that, in a way, made the burden heavier to bear. Everyone had faith in him to do the correct thing, even the gods.

  Stiger was exhausted. He felt it to his core. His return to the present, the clearing out of Old City, the battle before Vrell and then the long march…all of it had taken a toll. He stifled another yawn. His eye began to twitch in the most annoying manner. He rubbed at it, trying to get it to stop.

  “You are tired,” Taha’Leeth said.

  “I am,” Stiger agreed, “very.”

  “You need more sleep.”

  “You can say that again,” Stiger said and stifled yet another yawn.

  “I am serious, Ben,” Taha’Leeth said. “You need to be rested for what is to come.”

  “I cannot disagree with you,” Stiger said. “Even though I delegate, there is just too much to do and not enough time to do it all. There are days I wonder how General Treim managed to command an army twice the size of my own. He had four legions under his command and more than twenty auxiliary cohorts. That did not even include the camp followers…heck, ours we left behind in Vrell.” Stiger paused as he thought back to his time in the North. “It was an awesome force he commanded. The general was so tireless and in complete control. He focused on what mattered and never took his eye off his objective. At times, I feel I am only just managing things and that my efforts pale in comparison.”

  She suddenly gave a light laugh. He found it a pleasant sound and wondered what was so amusing. He liked when she laughed.

  “You are still new to commanding a large force, an army, yes?”

  “I am,” Stiger admitted. “But that is no excuse. I must try harder, work harder.”

  She laughed again.

  “You may not realize it,” Taha’Leeth said, “but your men see you as tireless, in control, and focused…just like you see your General Treim.”

  For a moment, Stiger thought she might be jesting. From her look, he decided she wasn’t. It got him thinking. When General Treim was fighting the Rivan in the North…had he been just as bone-tired? Had he concealed his weariness from the men, his worries, his doubts and concerns? Now that she had gotten him thinking on it, Stiger suspected Treim had. It was an intriguing thought and one that, if ever he was reunited with the general, might be worth asking.

  “Your men have told me so,” Taha’Leeth continued, “and I’ve heard your legionaries speak amongst themselves when they thought no one listening. They think highly of you. Did the men of General Treim’s army love him?”

  “They did,” Stiger said, with dawning comprehension and a feeling of discomfort, “just as my men love me.”

  Stiger’s mind raced. Why had he not seen it before? Probably because he’d never considered himself an equal to the general, his mentor and patron. Even though Stiger had led thousands of men in desperate battles, somehow, it just did not seem right to compare himself to General Treim. Taha’Leeth had given him a lot to think on.

  He yawned mightily.

  “Before I leave, I will speak with Salt and Venthus,” Taha’Leeth said firmly. “Between the two of them, they will see that you get more sleep.”

  Stiger almost laughed at her earnest look.

  “Don’t you dare laugh at me.” She tapped her foot on the rug for emphasis, and in that moment, he felt incredibly drawn to her.

  “When are you leaving?”

  “Before dawn,” she said. “I am meeting up with a team of scouts. Eli, Aver’Mons, and I have been working hard at the training of them…Marcus too. Many show real promise.”

  He had heard the same from Eli. Stiger eyed her for a long moment, his thoughts shifting away from the scouts and to something altogether different. His exhaustion retreated a little.

  “Dawn’s a little over an hour away.” Outside, the legion was beginning the day. Stiger could hear the shouts of the officers as they got their men moving, fed, and organized, readying them for the day’s march. He ignored it all, instead struggling to hide his smile as he drank in her beauty like a fine wine. “You and I…we have some time before you must depart.”

  “I know what’s on your mind.” Taha’Leeth smiled demurely. “You should go to bed while there is time.”

  “I want to,” Stiger said, “with you.”

  Her eyes went to his cot. She turned her gaze back to him and bit her lip, clearly thinking about it.

  “If I say yes…will you promise to get some sleep after?” Taha’Leeth asked. “Sleep for a few hours at least, before you march?”

  “Consider it motivation to do so.”

  “I want your word of honor,” she said.

  “You doubt me?” Stiger teased.

  “In this,” Taha’Leeth said, “yes. You push yourself harder than the rest. So, what will it be? Some time in my arms or not?”

  “You drive a hard bargain,” Stiger said. “Barring an emergency, I will leave orders that I am not to be disturbed until the auxiliaries begin preparing to march. That will give me about four hours of sleep after the first cohort starts out. Will that do?”

  “It will, as a start.”

  Taha’Leeth set her mug down on his desk and held out her hand to him. Stiger took her hand, feeling the warmth. She seemed to radiate heat. It was something he loved about her, especially when they shared a bed on a cold night. The thought of her naked body pressed against his started his heart beating a little quicker. She hauled him to his feet and drew him in close, kissing him.

  Stiger heard the tent flap being pulled aside. He broke away and looked over to see Nepturus standing there, with a stack of tablets in hand. The clerk’s eyes were wide with alarm.

/>   Stiger found himself intensely irritated. “What is it?”

  “Excuse me, sir,” Nepturus stammered, clearly embarrassed. “I did not mean to interrupt. I have the morning reports, sir.”

  “He will see those later,” Taha’Leeth informed the clerk in a firm tone. “Your legate needs sleep and I intend to put him to bed. Barring an emergency, he is not to be woken until the first of the auxiliary cohorts march. Is that understood?”

  Nepturus glanced from Taha’Leeth to Stiger and then back again, as if unsure who to take orders from.

  “It’s as she says,” Stiger said. “In this, she is the boss.”

  “Understood, my lady,” Nepturus said, recovering. “I will see that appropriate orders are issued. The legate will not be disturbed.”

  “Thank you, Nepturus,” Taha’Leeth said, flashing the clerk a pleased smile. “When I next return, I will bring you a pheasant or a quail for your cook pot.”

  “In that case,” Nepturus said, “I will get those orders passed along right away. If you will excuse me, sir?”

  Stiger gave a nod. The senior clerk stepped back and allowed the tent flap to fall back into place.

  Taha’Leeth turned back to Stiger. “You had better sleep.”

  “I wish we had more time than just an hour together,” Stiger said, “and I don’t mean spending it all in bed. Though to be honest, that wouldn’t be so bad.”

  “Oh really? You think I am bad in bed? Keep at it and you won’t see any action ‘til you next encounter the enemy.”

  Stiger grinned at her. She leaned forward and kissed him passionately.

  “When this is all over,” Taha’Leeth said, “there will be plenty of time.”

  “I pray you are right,” Stiger said.

  “I am,” Taha’Leeth said firmly. “Now, enough talk or you will waste the little time we have.”

  Taha’Leeth took his hand again and drew him toward the cot.

  FIFTEEN

  Stiger stood off to the side of the road with Eli and Dog. The boundary of the Sentinel Forest was several miles back. For the past hour, they had been watching the legion march by, one cohort after another. Then had come the elves. A few yards behind and off the road waited Ruga’s century. The centurion had detailed a man to hold both Nomad and Wind Runner’s reins.