Justinian, while the thought of parting ways with his dear friend saddened him, had helped Tiberius fight the Empire's wars for many years and was finally more than ready to move on. Tiberius may have no other choice, but he did, and in that, Justinian pitied his unfortunate friend. Yes, for the three of them their glory days had finally come to a rather abrupt and early end it seemed. They all knew it, especially Tiberius whose time would no doubt come far sooner than either him or Cristoff. The cruel irony is that their current state of being was all due to their competency at winning wars, as there were no longer any more real wars to fight. For being good at what they do, all except for Justinian would soon be left with no real position at all, an unfortunate truth. Tiberius when they were younger had always said that there is always a war to fight, implying that there would always be a use for them; but, these days, it seemed as if even Tiberius, the wisest of them, questioned the truth of that statement.
Justinian's mind then turned to memories of the good times and the bad, to memories of moments which defined both him and also Tiberius. Justinian wondered to himself if his own judgments were as wise or moral as those made by the world's esteemed, Protector of the Empire.
You would have made a good king my friend; between the three of us you were always the one who most deserved a throne.
Justinian, despite being a year older and nearly his equal, had always looked up to Tiberius in a way, occasionally judging between his own character as compared to the praetor's, his own decisions as compared to his, and all the while wondering if Tiberius occasionally did the same. Such is the way of the closest of friends, Justinian supposed as his servant finally arrived with the morning tea.
“I have made a brisk mint this morning, just as you requested,” said the servant as he placed the steaming cup on the table in front of Justinian.
“Good, thank you Mattius,” replied Justinian before he continued after reaching forward to take a sip, “It is indeed quite delightful; you may go now.”
A few moments after sending his servant away, Cristoff strode in, “You damn son of a whore! Who died and made you king!?”
Justinian smiled before responding after another sip of tea, “Well, good morning to you too; and nobody, yet.”
Cristoff then moved to take a seat clasping his head due to his apparently agonizing condition. The large, handsome, well cut, bulky man then continued in a more quiet voice no doubt in an effort to prevent further head throbbing which would be caused by another outburst, “You have always been pompous, but I swear ever since your brother died making you heir, you have been nothing but a royal pain in my ass.”
“I assure you I have not changed, however, would it really hurt to, you know, give me a bow now and again?”
Cristoff, instead of replying to Justinian's playful sarcasm, just sat across from him, glaring with incalculable displeasure at the remark.
Justinian after a few moments of silence went on, “Aside from your well earned hangover, what's really the problem Cristoff; have a bad night with the ladies?”
At that, Cristoff breathed in deeply as if he was about to respond, before, he then moved his head down. Placing his face on the table he proceeded to grip his head with both hands, moaning as he began, “Never trust a whore.”
Justinian chuckled before he spoke, “Ah, and there it is, the mighty Cristoff brought low by lady trouble and one too many drinks.”
Cristoff replied, head still resting on the table, “You shouldn't poke fun at another man's misery.”
“Oh my friend, I can't help it, see for most men, don't trust a whore, seems to be a pretty widely understood and accepted rule of thumb; but you apparently, on this one, are... let's see, how shall I say it... a little behind the curve, to be delicate.”
“You're one to talk, you haven't been with a woman in years,” responded Cristoff.
“That's because I don't fill my bed with loose women. You know perhaps you could learn something from me.”
“Oh shut up Justinian; and have some compassion will you, my head has a heartbeat.”
“Indeed,” replied Justinian in a way that suggested he was interested in getting to business.
Cristoff, reading into Justinian's response, raised his head, sitting back while he regained some bit of professional composure before speaking, “Well is there an issue you actually wish to discuss, or is this just another... Check in? And by the way, I feel it necessary to remind you that tomorrow we meet in my tent.”
“Actually, yes, there is a matter that has come to my attention. While I expect men to fight now and again, there has been far too much tension between your Gahnen warriors and my Imperial legions. As expected the two groups do not get along very well; one of us has to move,” said Justinian in his characteristic civil manner.
“Similar reports have reached my ears as well, and I agree it is getting a little out of hand. Honestly, I don't like the fact that Tiberius sent us both to the same rally point; he knows our separate forces can't even stand the sight of each other,” Cristoff finished, waving up his hands in mild exasperation.
Justinian went on in reply, “We've discussed this, you and I both know that Tiberius is going to disband my army shortly after returning from Kingsgate; we just have to keep them from killing each other for a few more days.”
Cristoff rolled his eyes then went on after sighing, “You're right of course; I'll move my legion's encampment further west, I have the smaller force. My captains aren't going to be happy about it though, they don't want to be moved any further from the ships.”
“Neither do mine, I suppose being at war so long has given all of us a slight sense of arguably healthy paranoia.”
Cristoff grunted his approval before both Legatus' grew quiet as they gazed out over the encampment, enjoying the view. After a few long moments, Cristoff spoke, “Looking back I wonder what it would have been like to fight for the other side. I almost did you know, that was before I was press-ganged by Tiberius' charisma."
“Soon you might just get the chance to find out,” responded Justinian with words that dripped with intrigue.
“What do you mean?”
After looking around to make sure no servants were in obvious earshot, Justinian replied in a lowered voice, “Well, Tiberius and I have...”
Justinian's words were immediately cut off as a freshly battle scarred messenger came bursting through the already open entrance. The young man, after taking a moment to catch his breath, spoke, “My Lords, it's the praetor, he's arrived early. He dispatched me to inform you that your presence is required at the docks immediately... Hurry my Lords, we have no time to waste, there's trouble.”
Chapter 16
Day 11
“We are now at war gentlemen,” said Tiberius to the other two legatus' after a quick recounting of recent events in the capital, which had been preceded by their greeting.
As they stood alone on the Andromeda, Tiberius continued, “All three of us are now fugitives, rogues... rebels. By now Maximillian will have already put his spin on what took place, he has no doubt claimed that I moved to assassinate Salinius; also that Malcus uncovered my plot but arrived too late, and is now in pursuit to bring me, along with all other conspirators, that would be you, to justice... Forgive me Justinian; you and I both know that at this time home is no longer an option for you.”
Justinian spoke in reply, remaining, even now, controlled and postured, “There is nothing to forgive my friend, the fault was not yours. And, in answer to the question which you have not yet presented, I am with you.”
Moving past the shock of the day's sudden change of events, Cristoff quickly responded in suit before Justinian's words trailed off, “As am I; it's about time we were on the right side.”
“Good, I'm pleased to hear this. Now tell me, how much do the two of you know about the unnamed isle?”
Silence followed before Cristoff spoke up after making a sideways glance toward Justinian, “Only that no one who has gone in
has ever come out to tell their story. No one has been permitted to go beyond the wall for hundreds of years, hence the small standing army which patrols the hundred foot tall wall that surrounds the accursed island night and day. Everyone who's anyone knows that the soldiers who patrol the wall aren't just there to keep whatever is on the island from escaping, their dual purpose is to prevent anyone from entering; heck, even they aren't permitted to enter. But, I believe I speak for both myself and Justinian when I ask the more pertinent question; why would you ask that?”
“Well haven't either of you ever been curious about why no one is even permitted to enter. Aren't you the least bit curious about what lies hidden within the island's jungles.”
Justinian replied, “Well sure, but do I believe in the myths?... The Golgaleth, Feyliimn, and Ungassii have been extinct for over five hundred years now according to the legen...," he stopped mid-sentence before finishing, "That's all they are, myths.”
After a brief moment, Tiberius responded, “I do not believe so. I've never spoken of it before ten days ago, but as I told Jaimus, I spoke with a Feyliimn many years ago in my father's dungeons. And, due to both my secret conversations with the prisoner, along with knowledge which had been more recently provided by Jaimus, I have reason to believe that the three races were exiled there on the isle for choosing to fight on the side of the five kings in the Great Tiburon War, and therefore still exist beyond the wall. I don't know what their current state is, but if we had their help, if we could just use their hatred for the Empire, then...”
Again there was silence before it was broken by Justinian as he spoke with an almost incredulous expression, “Well, I honestly can't decide whether you have finally gone completely mad Tiberius, or, and I can't believe I'm saying this, whether what you're suggesting actually has some merit.”
Cristoff then chimed in, voice low and serious, “What choice do we have Justinian? Your Imperial legions are all, when everything is said and done, directly loyal to the Emperor. This leaves us with only sixty-five hundred loyal men and no way to pay them. Sure we might be able to recruit somewhere near fourteen thousand at the most who would be willing to fight for Tiberius temporarily for little to no payment, due to his reputation and influence alone; but you and I both know that it won't last more than a year. Even if we could somehow make it work and figure out how to stay alive in the process, then we would be no more than a large nationless band of raiders and cutthroats due to the fact that we would not have a large enough army to either sway the kingdoms to our side, or confront the Empire on our own. If we have to do it then we have to do it, but if we have even a remote chance at a better way, well... I like the idea of being a thorn in the Empire's side as a glorified pirate, but I like the idea of winning, of storming through the Empire as a conquering commander, much better. And, I don't see the latter happening without the Golgaleth, mythical though they may be. So, even though just talking about the idea of it makes me feel like a certifiable lunatic, I say we do it. It's risky but if we take the majority of our force to climb the wall at night, using grappling hooks, we could attack strategic points along the wall, allowing us to completely seize and occupy within a very short period of time. The casualties will be substantial of course, but I believe it can be done.
“Now, if I remember correctly, for a post like that the Emperor usually will receive an annual message to affirm that everything is as it should be. So, that gives you maybe six to eight months to summon a sufficient fighting force Tiberius, if you fail I don't see how I will be able to hold the wall beyond that.”
After Cristoff finished, both he and Tiberius glared at Justinian before he spoke, “Well, I'm with you Tiberius, even if we are chasing fairytales. I suppose while you two are busy prancing around on the island, I will take a thousand of Cristoff's warriors, with your permission of course, along with the majority of the fleet, to recruit as many soldiers as possible from the nations. Then, I'll return in seven months time to reinforce you beyond the wall, if you're still alive that is.”
Tiberius responded with a smile, “Good, sounds like we have a plan. If I'm successful Justinian, then I will send Eleven to meet you at the North gate when you arrive; he will lead you and the army to my location. In the meantime, we need to ditch the Imperial legions before they figure out we're fugitives, there are more than a few Imperial officers within our ranks that i don't trust. So, move quickly, we depart shortly after nightfall.”
Before continuing, Tiberius stepped toward Justinian reaching out. Justinian then followed in suit, reaching out to clasp Tiberius' arm before the world's new, involuntary rebel leader, spoke, “Good luck my friend, I hope to see you again in about seven months.”
Justinian nodded as he gave reply, “You as well... Seven months.”
Tiberius then turned to walk toward the Andromeda's bow as Justinian and Cristoff also said farewell. He faced south, the direction in which lay his ultimate destination, hundreds of miles across the sea. It was from there that all the answers he sought called him, beckoned him. He did plan to do exactly what he had told his two legatus', but he also had a dual purpose, he needed answers, personal though they may be, and that island was the only place he would ever find them. In fact at this moment he would be lying to himself if he didn't admit that right here, right now, he felt somewhat divided between his duty and his personal goals; a reality that made Tiberius uncomfortable, and a little uneasy.
As Tiberius gazed out in the direction of the island which many believed to be cursed, he whispered, quiet enough that no one else would hear, “I will uncover your secrets.”
Chapter 17
Day 28
"Should we go now sir?"
"Not yet captain, steady. We wait until the sun falls; till the last remnants of its light have passed," responded Cristoff as he gazed out across the water toward the island; toward the wall which they would soon see.
Seventeen days had passed since leaving their encampment on the southeastern corner of the Red Isles, and the fourteen days it had taken them to reach the unnamed island had been fortunately, fairly uneventful as had the three days since.
It had been a few moments since Captain Warus had spoken, and Cristoff, acknowledging twilight's last moments, gave the command, "Light the torch."
At that captain Warus began yelling his orders before suddenly the ship leapt to action as the sails were unfurled. The torch was quickly extinguished after being lit, it's only purpose, to signal the rest in Cristoff's fleet to commence the attack.
It was a bold plan, a risky plan, as both Tiberius' army of Gahnen warriors, and the soldiers atop the wall were no doubt fairly evenly matched, at least as far as numbers were concerned. Cristoff and Tiberius both knew that even their strong, seasoned, army would stand no chance against the Imperials defending the wall if the attack was discovered before they began the climb. This meant that they needed to use the darkness of the new moon to cloak their approach. Then, hopefully, with a bit of luck, the element of surprise could be obtained, tipping the odds in their favor. Unfortunately no matter what the outcome, the Army under Tiberius' command would suffer dreadful casualties tonight. But Cristoff knew, as did Tiberius and Justinian, that this mission was absolutely necessary, and being so, failure was, most absolutely, not an option.
Finally there it was; Cristoff could identify the large wall by the Imperial soldier's lit lanterns, which flitted here and there marking the top, illuminating the hundred foot brick wall against the starlit sky with firelight. It was a sight to behold even at night as the wall stretched on and on seemingly without end. As they grew closer, Cristoff began preparing his mind for the battle which was quickly approaching.
Cristoff began reanalyzing the strategy, the plan, every aspect of the mission which had recently begun. Even he admitted to himself that it would require a miracle to arrive at the top, or even the base of the wall before being seen or heard, but it would not be the first time that he had pulled off the impossible under Tiberius' com
mand. According to Cristoff, Tiberius was the luckiest son of a bitch he had ever known, a fact that, while he didn't understand the source of the legatus' uncanny fortune, made Cristoff feel more confident than most would in this situation.
It was quiet as they neared. No one dared even breathe as the thought of discovery haunted the men which sailed Cristoff's silent, phantom, fleet. All the men in Cristoff's fleet were well accustomed to war and the possibility or likelihood of death, but even still, there was nothing like the apprehension of battle, the calm before the storm, encroaching darkness. War is their lot in life, but war is despicable, no one loves it. All had their reasons for being here, some had no future, for others, war came to them; it didn't matter though, all would fight, many would die, it was their profession and they were masters at it. Cristoff could sense their uneasiness as he attempted to quell his own while tightening his grip around the large, two-handed, battleaxe with his right hand as it stood at his side. Cristoff stood tall in front of those men who could see him at the ship's bow, waiting, watchful. He was patient on the outside, but on the inside war had already gripped him. Cristoff was ready, strength and power swelled through him, his muscles flexed, he breathed deep.
Cristoff's fleet grew near. The wall which at once appeared to be large, now appeared monstrous as it loomed ahead. His men noiselessly prepared the special hooks which they would use to reach the top. While they did this Cristoff reviewed the mission one last time in his mind. There were five fleets, one commanded by Tiberius, one by him, and the other three by personally appointed commanders. The five fleets which surrounded the island were to stay out of sight before launching a simultaneous coordinated assault upon five uniquely chosen points along the wall, using the cover of the darkness which came immediately after twilight. If successful most Imperial personnel and fortifications should be taken within one to two days. Also during the initial attack Tiberius and his small group would use the distraction to reach the other side of the wall before sunrise. If the plan succeeded there would most likely be a portion of Imperial survivors who will barricade themselves inside some of the wall's guard towers, this was normal and typically unavoidable for this type of assault. However, as long as they retained a large enough force during the attack, then Cristoff knew it would not be an issue. After the battle, Cristoff and his army were then to remain in occupation of the wall for many months until Justinian arrived. It was not a loved plan by the three Legatus', but it was a plan, the only plan. If one wanted to hold his own against something as powerful as the Tiburon Empire then one had to take big risks; one had to think outside of the box, as anything conventional was doomed to failure.
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