The Tiger’s Imperium
Page 1
Other books by Marc Alan Edelheit.
Chronicles of a Legionary Officer:
Book One: Stiger’s Tigers
Book Two: The Tiger
Book Three: The Tiger’s Fate
Book Four: The Tiger’s Time
Book Five: The Tiger’s Wrath
Book Six: The Tiger’s Imperium
Book Seven: The Tiger’s Fight (Coming 2022)
Tales of the Seventh:
Part One: Stiger
Part Two: Fort Covenant
Part Three: A Dark Foretoken
Part Four: Thresh (TBA)
The Karus Saga:
Book One: Lost Legio IX
Book Two: Fortress of Radiance
Book Three: The First Compact
Born of Ash:
Book One: Fallen Empire (Coming 2021)
Book Two: Infinity Control (Coming 2021)
Book Three: Rising Phoenix (Coming 2021)
The Way of Legend: With Quincy J. Allen
Book One: Reclaiming Honor
Book Two: Forging Destiny (Coming 2021)
Nonfiction:
Every Writer’s Dream: The Insider’s Path to an Indie Bestseller
The Tiger’s Imperium
Book 6
Chronicles of an Imperial Legionary Officer
Marc Alan Edelheit
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events or locales is entirely coincidental.
The Tiger’s Imperium: Book 6, Chronicles of an Imperial Legionary Officer
First Edition
Copyright © 2020 by Marc Edelheit. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, without the express written permission of the author. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials.
I wish to thank my agent, Andrea Hurst, for her invaluable support and assistance. I would also like to thank my beta readers, who suffered through several early drafts. My betas: Jon Cockes, Nicolas Weiss, Melinda Vallem, Paul Klebaur, James Doak, David Cheever, Bruce Heaven, Erin Penny, April Faas, Rodney Gigone, Tim Adams, Paul Bersoux, Phillip Broom, David Houston, Sheldon Levy, Michael Hetts, Walker Graham, Bill Schnippert, Jan McClintock, Jonathan Parkin, Spencer Morris, Jimmy McAfee, Rusty Juban, Joel M. Rainey, Jeremy Craig, Nathan Halliday, Ed Speight, Joseph Hall, Michael Berry, Tom Trudeau, Sally Tingley-Walker, James H. Bjorum, Franklin Johnson, Marshall Clowers. I would also like to take a moment to thank my loving wife who sacrificed many an evening and weekends to allow me to work on my writing.
Editing Assistance by Hannah Streetman, Audrey Mackaman, Brandon Purcell
Cover Art by Piero Mng (Gianpiero Mangialardi)
Cover Formatting by Telemachus Press
Agented by Andrea Hurst & Associates, LLC
http://maenovels.com/
Author’s note:
Writing The Tiger’s Imperium has been a labor of love and a joy. I have long wanted to tell this story, but getting here took some time. I would like to take a moment to explain. To keep my writing fresh and original, I take a break between books in the CILO series and work on other stories. This also gives me time to better plan and prepare. I know it can be difficult waiting for the next book … However, I feel my process vital to delivering the high-quality writing you have come to expect and deserve. That said … with luck … you will not have to wait that long for the next CILO book.
You may wish to sign up to my newsletter to get the latest updates on my writing.
http://maenovels.com/
Reviews keep me motivated and also help to drive sales. I make a point to read each and every one, so please continue to post them.
I hope you enjoy The Tiger’s Imperium and would like to offer a sincere thank you for your purchase and support.
Best regards,
Marc Alan Edelheit, author and your tour guide to the worlds of Tanis and Istros
Excerpt from Thelius’s Histories, The Mal’Zeelan Empire, Volume 3, Book 2.
The Mal’Zeelan Imperial Legion
Pre-Emperor Midisian Reformation
The imperial legion was a formation that numbered, when at full strength, 5,500 to 6,000 men. The legion was composed of heavy infantry recruited exclusively from the citizens of the empire. Slaves and non-citizens were prohibited from serving. The legion was divided into ten cohorts of 480 men, with First Cohort, being an overstrength unit, numbering around a thousand. A legion usually included a mix of engineers, surgeons, and various support staff. Legions were always accompanied by allied auxiliary formations, ranging from cavalry to various forms of light infantry. The imperial legion was commanded by a legate (general).
The basic unit of the legion was the century, numbering eighty men in strength. There were six centuries in a cohort. A centurion (basic officer) commanded the century. The centurion was supported by an optio (equivalent of a corporal) who handled minor administrative duties. Both had to be capable of reading and performing basic math.
Note: Very rarely were legions ever maintained at full strength. This was due primarily to the following reasons: retirement, death, disability, budget shortages (graft), and the slow stream of replacements.
The most famous legion was the Thirteenth, commanded by Legate …
Post-Emperor Midisian Reformation
Emperor Midiuses’s reforms were focused on streamlining the legions and cutting cost through the elimination of at least half of the officer corps per legion, amongst other changes.
The basic unit of the legion became the company, numbering around 200 men in strength. There were ten twenty-man files per company. A captain commanded the company. The captain was supported by a lieutenant, two sergeants, and a corporal per file.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Epilogue
Chapter One
Stiger bent down, grabbed a battered stool, and pulled it across the floor away from the window, to the middle of the room. Hundreds of people, mostly civilians … the half-starved scarecrows of Lorium, stood outside on the street. They wanted a glimpse of their savior, their liberator and new emperor.
His mind kept returning to Taha’Leeth, fighting for her life outside the city. He should be there with her. He hated that he couldn’t be, just as he disliked the new role he’d been thrust into, one he had not asked for.
Not too long ago, the Stiger name had lost much of its luster, becoming quite tarnished. His family name was synonymous with rebellion and betrayal. Stiger had come of age living in disgrace, a near outcast, excluded from polite society. And when he had joined the legion, his peers, fellow officers, and noblemen had done their best to shun him. They had made it known he was not even welcome to serve the empire he loved.
Almost for as long as he could
remember, people had either shuddered in fear at the mere mention of his name or cursed it. And now … they clamored around for a look at him, hailed him as their savior, a true hero of the empire and a desperate hope for the future.
“How things have changed,” Stiger said quietly.
Resisting a groan, he sat down. He had been worn down by the events of the last few weeks and months. He had not only pushed himself hard, but the legion too and then some. The last day and a half, starting with the assassination attempt and culminating with the battle against the Cyphan Confederacy, had been not just harrowing, but simply exhausting. Then there had come the unexpected shock of what had occurred a little over an hour before in a crypt turned sick house.
If he was being honest with himself, Stiger was feeling somewhat overwhelmed by the turn events had taken. The emperor, Tioclesion, his one-time childhood friend, was dead. Stiger himself had been designated his heir. In the burned-out remnants of Lorium, he was now the emperor. Just the thought of it sounded ridiculous, so unreal … unbelievable. A Stiger as emperor? Seriously … the world must have truly gone mad.
It was an honor, to be certain, but one he had never sought. His first instinct had been to refuse it. He wanted someone else to bear the heavy burden that came with the crown of wreaths and the curule chair. But … deep down, he knew he could not turn away this honor, no matter how dubious. He would not give up the imperium he had been granted. To do so would be foolish and incredibly shortsighted.
The High Father had set him down this path and made him his Champion. Who else could do what needed doing? Worse, if some other fool was named emperor, they might actively work against him and hinder what must be done.
The thought of being the emperor made him thoroughly sick to his stomach, as if he had eaten undercooked meat. Despite that, Stiger simply could not and would not take the chance of trusting the responsibility to someone else. No, he must take hold of the reins of power. There was just too much at stake.
And that was the rub of it all. Whether he liked it or not, he had to assume the mantle of the emperor, along with all the responsibilities and headaches that came with the title. The Cyphan had to be stopped, for they could not be allowed to open the World Gate. If they did, it would mean the end of the empire he loved.
Worse, darkness, like a veil, would fall over Istros. And so, he had to own being the emperor, accept the burden, bear it … no matter how onerous. Stiger clenched a fist. There would be no half measures. He could afford none, and that meant he had to be utterly ruthless in achieving his goals, which began first with securing his hold over the empire. Then, and only then, could he focus his attention on the true enemy, the Cyphan.
“Very nice establishment, sir,” Centurion Ruga said as he entered the room, making a show of gazing around. Except for a handful of stools, any furniture that had once graced the room was now gone. “Grand, sir … just grand. I must say, I approve of your choice for a throne room. Sends a humble message to the common man, it does, sir. A right man of the people you are.”
Fighting a scowl and rubbing his jaw, Stiger, looked over at the centurion and held the other’s gaze for a long moment. “I am so glad you approve, Centurion, so very glad. It just makes my day. You have no idea how much it pleases me to have your approval.”
Ruga actually grinned. It wasn’t a large smile by any measure, but it was there just the same. He, like Tiro, enjoyed occasionally teasing his commanding officer. Stiger did not mind much, for it wasn’t done in a mean-spirited or disrespectful manner. In fact, he permitted it because he felt it kept him grounded and attuned to the rank and file. Stiger often found nuggets of wisdom in Ruga’s jests, and he’d learned to take them seriously.
“A lovely establishment, sir,” Ruga said. “It’s just a shame the ladies are long gone, a tragedy really.”
They were in what had been, up until the siege of the city, a house of ill repute. It was one of the few buildings that had escaped destruction caused by the long siege the city had endured. The room was dingy and smelled of must, sweat, and too many unclean bodies.
Judging from the layer of dust and grime on the floor, it had not been cleaned for some time. Stiger did not care, though. All he wanted was a few minutes of peace to recover from the shock of what had happened … to regain his balance and to plan. He would confer directly with Eli, Treim, and Aetius. Then, like a juggernaut, he would push on down the path he had chosen. And nothing would stand in his way.
“I’ve placed our men about the building, sir,” Ruga said, turning professional. “There are two entrances, one to the front and another to the rear. Three men will guard each entrance.”
“What about the rest of your men?” Stiger asked, for Ruga had brought a total of twenty men.
“I will stand them down, sir.” Ruga pointed to the back of the room. Along the wall, a narrow staircase led up to the second floor. It was one of two staircases in the building. “There are six small rooms on the second floor. My boys will operate in shifts of two watches. Colonel Aetius offered me ten additional men. I accepted. He went to see that they get organized and said he’d be back in a moment.”
“Very good.” Stiger gave an absent nod as his thoughts traveled back to his childhood friend. He had left General Treim and Father Restus with the late emperor’s body. To them would fall the responsibility of caring for Tioclesion, seeing that the remains were ritually prepared for funeral rites. That would include making a wax mask for the family’s personal shrine so that Tioclesion could be honored by those generations yet to come.
According to imperial custom, in two days’ time, there would be a funeral. The emperor’s body would be burned. His ashes would be collected and then, along with the mask, be transported back to the capital.
Stiger looked up as Eli entered the room, his boots thunking on the floorboards. The elf glanced briefly around, and his nose twitched at the smell. Without a word, he set his bow in the corner by the door, leaning it against the wall. His leather-wrapped bundle of arrows and pack he set down next to the bow, before giving a slight yawn.
“All I ever wanted was to be a soldier,” Stiger said to Eli. “Emperor? Me? Can you believe that?”
“We don’t always get what we want, sir,” Ruga said, before Eli could speak. “Sometimes we get what we deserve.”
“Ruga, you just have a natural way with words,” Eli said as he looked at Stiger. “Don’t you think, Ben? He’s a regular … what do you people call it … um … wordsmith.” The elf shook his finger at Ruga. “You are a very witty man.”
“I think the centurion is pushing his luck,” Stiger said, with a meaningful glance shot to Ruga.
“I would never push my luck, sir.” Ruga seemed scandalized.
“Oh really,” Stiger said.
“You know,” Eli said, “about a hundred years ago … maybe it was two hundred now that I think on it, I …”
“Two hundred years?” Ruga exclaimed, turning an astonished expression on the elf. “Really?”
“I am pretty sure it was two hundred years,” Eli said. “Sometimes the years kind of become a blur. Anyway, where was I? Oh yes, I once met a wordsmith. He was quite a refined human, very educated and well-read. He was so gifted at weaving words together that it was almost mesmerizing. Sometimes, he spoke so eloquently, his words did not make sense to others, myself included. He was that good. Though to be honest, some thought him slightly mad. His name was Livserus. Good gods, I’ve not thought on him in years.” The elf looked over at the centurion before looking at Stiger. “I spent several months with that fascinating man. Though he did not provide as much excitement as you, Ben.” The elf turned his gaze back upon the centurion. “Thank you, Ruga, for jagging my memory.”
“Jogging,” Stiger corrected. “Is there a point to this story?”
“No,” Eli said. “I was simply sharing.”
Colonel Aetius appeared in the doorway, forestalling any further conversation.
“I’m sorry we
could not do better, Imperator,” Aetius said, looking around with distaste. “This is one of the few buildings that is structurally sound and not being used to house the sick or injured. Up until a half hour ago, it was a praetorian command post, for their portion of the wall.”
“It’ll do,” Stiger said, glancing about once again. There were a number of closed doors that led off of the common room. Above each doorway was a tile mosaic, depicting a man and woman engaging in a sexual act. Each mosaic detailed a different position. The mosaics clearly indicated the services which could be purchased at the establishment. Behind him, a staircase led to the second floor. There was another set of stairs by the entrance. “It’s ironic, really. My first throne room is a whorehouse. And here my father thought I would never amount to much.”
Eli opened a door and looked inside. “There’s a cot.” He glanced back at Stiger. “If you don’t mind … I believe I will take a nap.”
“A nap?” Of all the things Eli could have said, Stiger was surprised by that. He had wanted his friend’s perspective and counsel. “You want to take a nap? Now? Are you serious?”
“It was one long and difficult march from Vrell,” Eli said, “followed up by a battle that, by all rights, we should not have won. You found enough excitement to last any High Born for a lifetime. And, if I might be honest … well, knowing you …” Eli let out a tired breath. “You’re just getting started. So, if you don’t mind, I am going to catch up on some sleep.” The elf yawned again. “Surely you can spare me for a few hours.”
Stiger was at an absolute loss. He was about to protest, then gave a shrug of his shoulders. There would be plenty of time for them to talk later. If Eli wanted a nap, he had more than earned one. With that, Eli closed the door behind him.
“Praetorians, you say, sir?” Ruga said to Aetius.
“The emperor’s personal guard,” the colonel confirmed.
Ruga looked over at Stiger. “I would have expected it to be cleaner, sir, praetorians occupying this place and all. I may be a simple valley centurion, but even I’ve heard of the praetorians.”