The Tiger’s Imperium

by Marc Alan Edelheit

  Wherever the empire went, whatever lands it gobbled hungrily up, it brought with it trained engineers, educated people, and in the end … civilization. That and imperial peace, which was an opportunity for newly acquired provinces to thrive.

  From the air, everything looked in miniature. It was as if he were a giant and an incredibly detailed scale model of the city had been made just for him. The closer they came, the more Stiger was utterly transfixed by what he took in, his city, his empire … his home.

  He was beginning to feel the terrible responsibility of all that now rested upon his shoulders. It was not just the men of the legions he commanded who depended upon him, but now, every single citizen and slave within the empire’s borders. Even those who were not citizens, but lived within imperial territory, freedmen, were his responsibility now. So much was riding on what would occur in the conflict between the empire and the confederacy, it was almost impossible to fathom. Stiger just shook his head as he continued to stare at the city.

  Surrounding it all, like a great boundary holding everything in, were the white, plastered walls of Mal’Zeel. They had never, in the empire’s entire history, been overcome by an enemy. As a youth, Stiger had been impressed by them. He had even had the privilege to walk and study the walls. It had been part of his education on fortifications. Stiger’s father had paid an engineer who supervised the maintenance of the walls to give the young Stiger a detailed tour.

  The walls themselves were constructed of brick-faced concrete that had been reinforced and then plastered over. From one side of the city to the other, the walls traveled a distance of just under fourteen miles and stood over thirty feet in height. They were also twelve thick. Every hundred feet along its length, a square defensive tower had been erected, with an arched, tiled roof. Next to Castle Vrell, Mal’Zeel’s defenses were some of the most impressive defensive walls he had ever seen.

  Stiger shifted his gaze to the central hill that dominated the city. It was called Palatheum Hill and it towered above all others by more than a hundred yards. Upon its perch lay the emperor’s palace, Stiger’s palace now. The entire hill, including the slopes and extensive gardens, was the emperor’s personal domain, a refuge.

  Just below it, the next hill over, was the temple district. The temples were massive marble constructions, built not only to honor the spirit of the gods, but also to impress the populace. These were some of the most important buildings in the empire, with many personal, state, and religious activities revolving around them. As such, special care had been given to their construction, decoration, and upkeep. By comparison, the temples made most other buildings look shabby and poor.

  To the left of the temple district was yet another hill, the Aetiriana. On its crest was the senate building, a large square brick construction. Stiger had always found it plain and ugly, a structure without much imagination. That was really the idea. The people’s business was a serious affair and the building reflected that idea.

  The forum lay before the senate, an open square area for people to assemble, approved news to be read, and important announcements to be made. It was bordered by several administrative buildings of government and trade that kept the empire functioning.

  Almost all the buildings on or near the crests of the four other hills were large marble-faced structures of the homes of the wealthy, representing the patrician and equites classes. Under the first rays of sunlight, these marble-faced homes gleamed with reflected light, almost blinding.

  Many of these buildings were veritable compounds, grand palaces in their own right, furnished with all the comforts that vast sums of money could purchase. Below, and shrouded in shadow, much of the city still slumbered, the plebeians and the rest of the masses. For those with little means, life in the capital was not an easy one.

  Stiger located the Teritine Hill, where his family home was located. He searched amongst the many compounds. At this distance, he could not pick it out from the sheer number of buildings that crowded closely in upon each other. It might be hidden from view on the side of the hill, which was still mostly hidden in shadow. They were simply approaching the city from the wrong direction to get a good enough view of his home to pick it out.

  “Look there,” Eli shouted. The elf was seated just ahead of Stiger. He was pointing off to the right, away from the city. Stiger looked and saw a series of massive military encampments, clearly the temporary homes of several legions, his father’s army.

  By long-standing custom and law, the legions were not permitted to approach the city, unless invited to do so by the senate. Nor could they cross the Dio. That was clearly why the encampments had been set up outside the city and along one of the imperial highways, the Perminuam Way, that bridged the great river. It had long since been clear neither the senate nor the emperor trusted their own legions, and for good reason, too. Several times in imperial history, the legions had turned on their masters. Stiger resolved to be different, to make sure that such a thing did not happen.

  “If I am not mistaken,” Eli shouted over the wind, “that is your father’s army and they are on the march.”

  Stiger had seen it as well. A long, thick column was marching along the road, away from the camps and the capital. The column of men, along with wagons, horses, and mules, stretched off into the distance, for as far as the eye could see. They were clearly marching away to the east.

  But why?

  Were they off to meet the enemy somewhere along the coast? The enemy had to be hundreds of miles away and the roads along the coast were narrow and not the best. They would hinder a rapid march north. So … why leave the defensible walls of the city?

  His father surely had to know he stood no chance against dragons out in the open. There had to be a good reason, he knew, one he was not yet aware of. Did that mean his father was not in the city? Was he at the head of the army, miles away? Were the enemy closer than he thought? Stiger had so many questions.

  Inex broke into Stiger’s thoughts. We will put you down about a half mile from the city walls, by one of the main gates. That reduces our risk of being attacked by your people.

  “It works,” Stiger said, for he understood bolt throwers may have been mounted on the city walls. It was possible larger ones to tackle a dragon had been constructed too. If the dwarves and the defenders of Lorium could build them, why couldn’t the engineers of his father’s army? And the capital had a vast pool of labor to tap to make such an enterprise a reality.

  After the reports of what had happened to Tioclesion’s army reached the capital, it only made sense that they would have taken such precautions. At least, Stiger would have done so. He suspected his father would have too.

  Unexpectedly, the dragon banked, turning almost sideways, so that Stiger was looking nearly straight down. As the wind picked up, blasting at him with more force, his stomach gave a flip. Inex seemed to slide downward toward the snow-covered ground. The wind whistled past, almost screaming through his helmet. He held the scarf around his face to keep it from coming free and closed his eyes against the stinging wind.

  One of the legionaries mounted somewhere behind him gave an unnerved scream. Eli laughed, thoroughly enjoying himself. Despite the cold, Stiger was enjoying the flight too, though not as much as Eli seemed to be.

  After several moments of what felt like freefall, Inex leveled off. The dragon started into what could only be described as a lazy spiral downward. Stiger opened his eyes as the blast of wind diminished. He watched in fascination as the snow-covered ground moved rapidly up to meet them.

  As Inex continued the descent toward the ground, Stiger had a flash of people, wagons, and carts along a road just below. The appearance of the dragons had caused quite a stir, for people were running for their lives, with horses and wagons thundering along the road toward the city. Those unfortunates on foot were fleeing off into the fields or attempting a desperate dash for the safety of the city walls.

  The dragon extended his wings fully again and began flappi
ng mightily to slow his rate of descent. Stiger could feel the powerful muscles of the creature under him working mightily.

  The fleeing people were abruptly lost from view as the spiral continued. The ground was now impossibly close as the dragon’s flapping became more intense. A heartbeat later, the dragon’s claws touched down. Stiger was thrown forward as the creature’s momentum was suddenly arrested. He was barely able to catch himself on the spike before him. The dragon took several steps, causing Stiger and everyone else to rock backward. Then the dragon stopped and folded his leathery wings against his body before settling his bulk to the ground.

  There are no immediate threats about us, Inex said. No need to rush to dismount.

  With hands nearly frozen from the cold, even with his thick gloves, Stiger began undoing the straps and ties that held him in place. Around him, Ruga’s men and Eli were doing the same.

  After a little bit of effort, some fumbling, Stiger gave up, drew his dagger, and simply cut himself free. He no longer had any need for the ties and straps. He stood on the dragon’s back, his legs stiff and aching from remaining in the same position for such a long time. Stretching and pulling the scarf down about his neck, he gazed around, studying the area.

  Both dragons had landed in a large field that clearly had been farmed. The field was covered with nearly a foot of snow, which looked to have freshly fallen. Little white waves followed the contour of the furrows from the field underneath. The stone walls bordering the field were also covered in snow. Only the boundary pattern gave away what they were.

  The other dragon was sixty yards away. Ruga, Tiro, Restus, and the rest of the men on his back were undoing their fastenings or in the process of clambering down the side of the dragon.

  Stiger turned full around, making sure to scan everything in view. The nearest buildings, about fifty yards to his right, were a good-sized barn with a small one-room farmhouse set right next to it. The house was rough-looking and run-down. Some poor tenant likely lived there, renting the land for a starvation wage … barely clearing enough to feed himself and his family. In reality, many land tenants were little more than slaves themselves, indebted to the landlord. All it would take was a bad harvest and they would lose everything, including their freedom, so that their obligation may be fulfilled.

  The farm was set almost directly alongside the road, which Stiger now recognized as the Avianata Way. He could tell by one of the road markers, which had a large triangle carved into the top of the stone post. The wind had blown the top of the road marker clean.

  Bleating sheep in a wooden pen next to the barn could be heard, as could the distant screams and shouts of alarm from along the road. Everyone and everything, including the animals, was in a panic.

  Inex raised his head high, opened his mouth, and let out a roar. Startled, Stiger jumped. He clapped his hands to his ears, for the sound was earsplitting. The dragon shot a long jet of flame straight up into the air. The stream of fire went almost impossibly high before the dragon ceased the blast. Inex let loose another deafening roar, then lowered his head.

  “Did you need to do that?” Stiger asked, for his ears were now ringing and likely would be for several hours to come. He gestured in the direction of the capital, which could be seen in the distance. “I think you might have woken up half the city.”

  I thought it best to announce the new emperor’s arrival, Inex said, with not a little satisfaction. When we go, we will fly high for all to see and make certain the entire city knows you are here.

  “The emperor who rode in on a dragon,” Eli said, glancing up from untying his pack. “I sense a poetic song in there somewhere, a classic in the making.”

  “Right,” Stiger said. “That’s just what I need … bards and minstrels singing songs about me in the taverns.”

  “Something somewhat bawdry, no doubt,” Eli said.

  “You mean obscene.” Stiger gave a slight shake of his head, disgusted by the mere thought.

  “You’ve heard the songs your legionaries sing while they march,” Eli said. “Those are hardly tame. It only stands to reason some enterprising fellow will come up with something clever, poetic too, no doubt.”

  “Great.” Stiger shook his head. “Thanks for that cheerful thought.”

  Are you certain you do not wish us to remain a while longer? Inex asked.

  We are uncomfortable just leaving you here, Tyven admitted, joining the conversation.

  “No,” Stiger said after a moment’s consideration. He was worried about his army marching north and the lack of protection for it. “I would dearly love to keep you both close at hand but cannot afford to. You are needed back with the army, providing cover. Even with those legions over there”—Stiger gestured in the direction of his father’s legions—“the enemy badly outnumbers us. I can’t take the chance of the wyrms returning.”

  It is very unlikely the confederacy will send their wyrms to attack your army, Inex said. They will not wish to risk their wyrms until they absolutely need to, for should they suffer another defeat in the air, we will gain the advantage over them, perhaps even a decisive one. They will be careful.

  “And if we’re not careful, the same could happen to us as well,” Stiger said. “We’re spread thin at the moment. The army must be protected to the fullest extent possible. Both of those legions represent the best of the empire, not to mention our allies, the dwarves, elves, and gnomes. We cannot afford to lose them.”

  And if they send their wyrms here instead? Inex asked. You will have no protection. What if they come to destroy this city? What then? Or how about that army that is marching off to the east? It has no protection.

  Stiger glanced eastward. He could no longer see his father’s army, which was miles away from where they had landed. A stand of trees bordering the field and a small hill were in the way.

  “That is certainly a risk,” Stiger admitted, turning back. “I do not know why the legions are marching away from the city. If I am able, I will put a stop to it and have them return. Jeskix said that once he rejoined his people, he’d send a couple of your kind to Mal’Zeel for protection.”

  It could be a week or more before they arrive, Inex said. There will be no protection until then.

  Stiger did not feel good about that, but he was still more concerned about his own army. He glanced in the direction of the city walls and felt leaving the capital unprotected was a risk he had to take. With the main body of the enemy so far from Mal’Zeel, he thought it unlikely they’d send their wyrms so far afield. “I know. We will have to construct bolt throwers, if they’ve not been built already, and take our chances.”

  Those will be of limited value, Inex said. You know this … especially if the enemy throws all their wyrms at you all at once.

  You are set upon this course of action? Tyven asked.

  “I am,” Stiger said and felt a mental sigh of resignation from the dragon in response.

  On our way back to the army, we can scout to the southeast, Tyven suggested, fly near enough to the enemy that they might think we have established a presence to the north as well. It could keep them guessing as to our intentions.

  That could work, Inex said. It might convince them to hold their wyrms close at hand for their own protection. They might believe we are probing for a strike against them.

  We can make it look quite convincing too, Tyven added.

  “Is there risk?” Stiger asked. “It certainly sounds risky to me.”

  There is always risk, Tyven said with another mental shrug. We will be careful. Neither of us wish to sacrifice ourselves needlessly.

  “Very well,” Stiger said, not liking the idea of what they were going to attempt. However, if they were successful, it might buy time, a commodity Stiger was running out of. “Do it, but be safe about it, will you?”

  We will give them a scare, Tyven said.

  Stiger looked over at the other dragon, who was gazing his way. He wondered briefly what both had in mind.

 
We wish you luck, human, Inex said and looked away toward the city. Tyven glanced away as well. The conversation was clearly over.

  Dagger still in hand, Stiger moved over to Dog, who had begun to try to squirm and wriggle out of the rope that held him securely in place. He cut the animal free and removed the blanket that had been wrapped around Dog for warmth.

  Standing, Dog shook himself vigorously and then stretched. He looked up at Stiger, tail wagging madly, then leaped from the dragon’s back and down to the snow-covered ground below. Stiger tossed the blanket after him. It fluttered to the ground.

  “More snow,” Eli said unhappily, without looking over at Stiger. He seemed to be speaking to himself. Stiger glanced over at his friend and saw he had unfastened his pack, which he hoisted onto his shoulder. His bow had been set aside. With a practiced ease, Eli began stringing it. Once done, he slung the bow over his back, then picked up a leather-wrapped bundle of arrows. He slung it over his shoulder too.

  Stiger glanced around once more. Those who had fled down the road were far off now, most having gone from view. Some had even trekked into the surrounding fields, leaving only their tracks behind as evidence of their passage. He let out a long, unhappy breath. His arrival had terrified them.

  It was not the auspicious beginning he had hoped for, but at the same time, not an unexpected outcome either. Dragons were dragons, after all. The manner of his arrival would not be forgotten. No matter what happened over the next few hours and days, it would be the talk of the city for years to come. That much was for certain. He just was not keen about the songs that would inevitably be made up about him.

  Soon enough, though, the common people would know he was no threat to them. Treim and Aetius’s agents had had more than two days to go to work at stirring up the city. If everything had gone to plan, news should have preceded him. At least he hoped so. If something had happened to the messenger, he would have his work cut out for him.