The Tiger’s Imperium

by Marc Alan Edelheit

  “It’s not my army.” Marcus breathed out a heavy breath. “Not anymore. I was summoned by Lears late last night, just after his installation. He relieved me of my command. I was marched here”—Marcus held his arms out—“where I found Max already under guard and the house surrounded by Corus and his men. I wasn’t manacled, but I was told if I resisted or attempted to escape, I would be summarily executed. Corus made that clear enough.”

  “Do you know who took over command?” Stiger asked. “Who replaced you as commander of the army?”

  “Lears said that Mechlehnus would have that honor. Do you know him?”

  Stiger thought for a moment, trying the recall the name, then shook his head. “I am afraid I do not.”

  “That’s not surprising. He’s in his late seventies,” Marcus said, “and led men in battle long before you were born.”

  “He’s an equestrian,” Max added, after taking a sip from his wine. “It is likely another reason you’ve not heard of his family.”

  “And Lears put him in command?” Stiger asked, both astounded and intrigued at the same time. “Why not a noble, someone from the senatorial class? Why would the senate agree to this? An eques commanding the entire army? A legion I can understand, but the army … that’s unheard of.”

  “If I had to guess, he needed someone with experience acceptable to the senate,” Max said. “Mechlehnus is it. He was once of senatorial rank.”

  “He was?” Stiger asked.

  “Mounting debts and declining income saw his fall to the equites,” Max said. “From what I understand, he was also unable to produce any children, from which an advantageous union with another senatorial family might have been made.”

  Stiger gave a nod of understanding. It was rare, but not unheard of, for families to occasionally come and go from senatorial rank. There were even equestrians who were incredibly wealthy but did not want to pay for the fee for admission into the senate. Or they did not want to deal with the problems that came with being a senator. They were content to remain equestrian. In a way, there was more freedom in that. He looked back over at his father as something occurred to him.

  “How were we able to maintain our senatorial rank? From what you have told me, as a family, we are dead broke. Surely the senate would demand an accounting. How were you able to hide our lack of wealth from them?”

  “We weren’t,” Marcus said unhappily.

  “Surprisingly, Tioclesion provided cover for us,” Max said. “He had several prominent lenders provide us tablets of credit to show the senate auditors. Of course, we were not permitted to draw upon the money. It was only for show. But appearing to have access to lines of credit totaling millions of imperial talons was more than enough to satisfy our fellow senators and even our enemies.”

  “We have no idea why he did that,” Marcus said.

  “Or why we were spared from the purges that followed after the civil war,” Max said.

  Stiger tapped the arm of his chair with a finger. He knew the answer. Recalling what the paladin had told him about showing the emperor a vision, he turned his gaze to Restus, who gave him a nod in reply.

  “I saw to that,” Restus admitted to Marcus. “You weren’t the only one given a vision. Tioclesion had one as well.”

  “It is why, on his deathbed, he named Ben emperor,” Eli said. “Tioclesion had known for years that Ben was going to be his successor and the empire’s hope in a dark time.”

  Marcus leaned back in his chair and gazed up at the ceiling. It was clear all the pieces of the puzzle were finally falling into place for him.

  “The gods move in mysterious ways,” Marcus said, more to himself than anyone else.

  “Mechlehnus,” Stiger said, wanting to move things along, “does he know what he’s doing? Can he effectively lead an army? Or is he as incompetent as Lears?”

  “He may be old,” Marcus said, “but he’s a soldier through and through. Much like you did, Mechlehnus worked his way up through the ranks. He commanded a legion and even managed to beat a small Castol army on the frontier. He did not just simply beat them; he crushed them. It gave the Castol something to think about. His action likely ended a bloody and protracted war before it could even begin.”

  “But that was years ago,” Stiger said. “Do you think he’s missed a step with age?”

  “That might be a dangerous assumption for anyone to make,” Marcus said.

  Stiger gave a nod. He had long since learned making assumptions without evidence was not a wise process.

  “He’s loyal to Lears, then?” Stiger asked. “One of his clients?”

  “No, not a client,” Marcus said. “Even before he became an eques, Mechlehnus was too proud to accept patronage. My father—your grandfather—respected him greatly, just as I do.”

  Stiger’s father rarely, if ever, spoke of his own father, Edelus. Stiger knew Edelus had commanded a legion in the field, but not much more than that. Still, Stiger understood the message. His father was telling him to respect Mechlehnus’s skills as a leader and field commander. And anyone Marcus Stiger respected was dangerous in the field.

  “He must be loyal to Lears,” Stiger said, “especially after being given such an important command.”

  “I am not so certain of that.” Marcus stood and grabbed an iron poker from next to the fire. He poked at the logs, creating a shower of sparks that swirled upward toward the hole in the ceiling. Apparently satisfied with his work, he returned the poker to its original position and sat back down. He was silent for a long moment before he spoke. “No. I do not think so. Mechlehnus is his own man.”

  “Are you certain of that?” Therik asked. “We might end up wagering our lives upon it.”

  “He has a very strong sense of honor,” Max said to Therik as he returned his empty mug to the table. “At least, we believe he does. He’s been married to his wife for more than forty years. She was unable to produce an heir for him, let alone any children whatsoever that managed to survive beyond the cradle. He could have simply divorced her, but he chose not to. Had he done so, he might have remarried into a more powerful family, or snared a wealthy widow, thereby rescuing his financial situation. Instead, he kept his wife, remained true to her, and gave up his senatorial rank.”

  “So,” Stiger said, “he has character, then, if not an affinity for making money. I am already beginning to like him.”

  “Once he has made a commitment, he lives by it,” Marcus said, “no matter how disagreeable a position it puts him in.”

  “That sounds familiar,” Eli said to Therik, “doesn’t it?”

  Therik gave a grunt of amusement.

  Ignoring the elf and orc, Stiger looked over at his father. It seemed so unreal to be sitting next to the man. Especially after all the time they had spent apart. Stiger had come to not only resent him, but hate the man he had once loved. And in truth, he did not now know how he really felt. It seemed like whenever he got an understanding of what was going on, there was a new twist waiting just around the corner. He decided it would need some thinking on, for he was not yet ready to forgive. Regardless, they were family, and that was that. In imperial households, it all came down to family in the end.

  “His wife’s family, who are they?” Stiger needed to know more. The weary and exhausted feeling had thoroughly passed. In its place he had begun to feel a mounting sense of urgency, or really a nudge to get moving, to take the fight to Lears. Before he could do that, he needed to know the ground he’d be fighting over. It was why he had come home in the first place.

  “You would not know them. They are equestrian also,” Marcus said. “He married below his station, a common merchant’s daughter. Though she was a beauty beyond compare, it was quite a scandal at the time.”

  “I see,” Stiger said, staring at the flames dancing in the fire for a long moment as he thought on all he had learned. “Will he send men back to the city to secure Lears’s hold on the curule chair?”

  “If Lears ordered him?” Ma
rcus asked, to which Stiger nodded. “I suspect he will follow Lears’s orders until there is no more breath in the emperor’s lungs.”

  “How well do you know him?” Stiger asked. “There are some officers who think quite highly of you, even to this day.”

  “You want to know if he is one of them?” Marcus asked.

  “I do.”

  Marcus turned his gaze to the fire again and held out his hands for warmth. He rubbed them together. “Mechlehnus served before my time. For whatever reason, he did not participate in the civil war. We have only ever exchanged the occasional polite word in passing, but not much more. His family was never an outright enemy of ours. Nor were they friends.”

  Stiger ran a hand over his jaw, feeling the stubble.

  “When I was younger,” Restus said, drawing their attention, “a paladin on one of my first quests, our paths crossed. Mechlehnus struck me as a good man, religious, a little stiff, formal even, and loyal to the empire. More recently, I recall him a frequent visitor to the High Father’s temple during the High Holy Days. Many think him a pious man. He is known as a patron of the church and honors the Old Order.”

  “Just like our family,” Marcus said.

  “That is my understanding,” Restus said.

  “It’s something,” Marcus said. “At least he’s not an absolutist.”

  “So, if ordered by Lears,” Stiger said, “do you also think he’d likely answer the man’s call?”

  “Like your father, I believe he will do what his emperor tells him to do,” Restus said. “He is bound by his oath.”

  “And if ordered by Emperor Stiger?” Therik rumbled. “Who was, after all, made heir by the last emperor.”

  “I suspect,” Restus said, “that since the senate and High Priest confirmed Lears, there is a strong chance he’d respond to Lears and ignore you.”

  “If he receives two sets of orders, from both Lears and you,” Marcus said to Stiger, “he may also just decide to sit things out … to see what happens. Mechlehnus is not stupid. Really, there is simply just no way to tell how he will react given such a situation.”

  Stiger turned his gaze back to the fire. A moment later, he looked at his father. “And your command structure, your senior officers, will they prove loyal to you or Mechlehnus?”

  “Now that is a good question,” Marcus said. “I was in command of the army for a few weeks. It was enough time to put some of my own people, former clients and associates, into senior positions, men I had served with or believed could be relied upon. Many I specifically called out of retirement.”

  “That’s what I thought,” Stiger said. It was something to potentially work with.

  “Remember,” Marcus said, “Mechlehnus just assumed command last night. I doubt Lears has even managed swear the legions to loyalty before they marched. I believe, if I wrote them, most of my senior officers would come over to our side and support your claim.” Marcus paused. “I must caution you, though. Taking such action will split the army and see brother fighting brother again. I’ve had enough of that sort of thing to last me a lifetime.”

  “I don’t want that either.” Stiger leaned back in his chair and stretched his legs out before the fire, enjoying the warmth. At that moment, he wished he had his pipe. He had left it back with the army. Stiger had always found smoking a pipe calming to the mind.

  He looked back over at his father. “If anything, turning the army upon itself must be avoided. No, I will deal with Lears, the senate, and the High Priest as soon as possible. Mechlehnus will come later.”

  “The High Priest?” Max seemed surprised by that. “What’s he done?”

  “The High Priest anointed Lears,” Stiger said.

  “But that doesn’t mean he’s an enemy,” Max said.

  “He’s not a friend either,” Stiger said. “Restus wrote him about me and he still sided with Lears.”

  “Something is not quite right within the church,” Restus added. “I can feel it, and that troubles me greatly. There is a foul stench on the wind.”

  Stiger could feel it too, sense it, now that he thought on it. The High Father had told him a dark stain had fallen upon his house. He was to cleanse it and restore the faithful. How exactly he was to accomplish that, he was not so sure. However, his immediate problem was Lears. That man had to be his focus, his objective. Securing the curule chair and crown of wreaths came first. Everything else could wait and be dealt with afterwards.

  “There can only be one emperor,” Stiger said firmly. “When I’m the last man standing, only then will I issue an order to Mechlehnus.”

  “And what of reaching out to my officers?” Marcus asked. “I think we should consider that—alert them to a potential need to act.”

  “No, I will do nothing to upset Mechlehnus,” Stiger said firmly. “I don’t want word or even a hint of such an effort to reach him. He might prove a valuable ally after we sort things out with Lears.”

  “If it gets difficult for us,” Therik said, “you might not want to rule out that option so fast.”

  “As if they could get any more difficult,” Eli said.

  “Knowing him,” Therik said, pointing at Stiger with a thick green finger, “it will.”

  “I agree with Therik,” Marcus said. “My people could stop Mechlehnus from using the army against us. I urge you to reconsider.”

  “My mind is made up,” Stiger said. “The last thing we need right now is another civil war tearing the empire apart. I will not risk that unless I have no other choice. If anything, we must end this business as soon as possible. Lears needs to go, and now.”

  The room fell silent for a long moment. The fire cracked loudly, sparking and spitting, as Stiger turned his gaze into its depths.

  “Why is the army marching?” Stiger asked after several moments, looking back over. “Do you know?”

  Marcus turned grim. “Yes. The Castol have invaded from the north.”

  “The Castol?” Stiger asked, surprised. He sat up straight. He had not expected that. The Castol were almost as dangerous as the Rivan had been. They were a hardy people living in the far and remote north.

  “Tioclesion withdrew the northern legions to deal with the Cyphan,” Max said. “The Castol took advantage of the empire’s weakness and lack of security on the border. They struck southward, easily overrunning the province of Han. The stories coming out of there are horrendous.”

  “They basically walked into Han unopposed,” Marcus said, “then pushed on to the city of Tiber, which is now under siege. Two weeks ago, in Tioclesion’s absence, the senate, with infinite wisdom, ordered me to prepare to march north, break the siege, and throw the Castol back.”

  Stiger closed his eyes. His problems were mounting. The Castol, just like the Rivan, were hard fighters. And Stiger had fought against them in the north. He had no desire to do so again. Now, his hand had been forced. Once he secured his throne, he would be forced to contend with two powerful enemies. He would soon enough have a real fight on his hands, likely the fight of his life.

  “When it rains, it pours,” Stiger said after a prolonged moment.

  “At least it isn’t too late to recall the army,” Marcus said. “As you said, we just need to deal with Lears first.”

  “Why are they marching east?” Therik asked. “That I do not understand. The Castol are to the north, yes?”

  “With an army as large as ours,” Marcus explained, “and in winter, good roads are a necessity. There are two paved highways along the coast that move northward. More importantly, both highways are relatively close together, only a few miles apart, and in excellent condition. They will facilitate a rapid march and movement, especially for a large army. The more direct roads toward Tiber are isolated and travel through rugged lands, with several places that can be easily blocked by a small force, such as river crossings, potentially holding up the advance. That is something that must be avoided at all costs.”

  “I see.” Therik gave a nod. “The two roads along
the coast also allow the army to basically move almost as one. If an enemy threatens one of the columns of march, the other can maneuver to assist.”

  “That was the general idea,” Marcus said, “or it was, when the senate approved my plan. There is no telling if Mechlehnus has altered anything.”

  “And the enemy are watching the roads that go directly north from Mal’Zeel, aren’t they?” Therik asked.

  “They are,” Marcus confirmed. “Their scouts have yet to reach the roads along the coast, meaning it may be possible to execute a rapid march into the north without detection.”

  “What about the confederacy?” Eli asked. “If the imperial army moves north, it leaves the door to Mal’Zeel open to their army coming up from the south.”

  “That is why I argued against the senate’s orders,” Marcus said, frustration plain in his voice. “They would not listen to me or consider any other strategies, especially after the last word on the confederacy’s position.”

  “Where are they?” Stiger asked.

  “From all indications,” Marcus continued, “the enemy has halted their advance around Asti. Why, we’re not sure, but we think it is supply-related. We already know they are living off the land and bringing supply in by sea. But their army is so large that, even with what they’re able to scrounge, they may not have sufficient ships hauling in food to meet their needs. So their inaction is more of a strategic pause than anything else.”

  Stiger wasn’t so sure about that. The enemy had planned well to this point and were up to something. He felt it in his bones. What that was, he had no idea. Yet he was also certain they were coordinating with the Castol. And the Castol were not simply taking advantage of an unguarded border as Max had suggested. He had to assume that, together, the Castol and the Cyphan were working mutually toward the destruction of their foe, the empire. That meant they had a unified and coordinated plan.

  “Given sufficient time,” Stiger said, “they will move north, most probably after our army is long gone and the road to Mal’Zeel is open. They likely have spies and scouts watching the roads.”