There was a collective groan at this, which demonstrated to Stiger just how far discipline had fallen. The men might typically complain to the sergeants and corporals, but in Stiger’s experience, they would never dare before an officer. Such displays could prove fatal for the common legionary, as any officer had the right to flog a man to death at will for even minor infractions.
“Aye, sir!” Blake replied, becoming visibly enraged at the men’s response to the captain’s orders. The sergeant turned, along with Ranl, shouting orders laced with profanity and directing legionaries to their tasks. Both sergeants waded into the ranks that were falling out. Men who did not move fast enough were cuffed or shoved roughly by the two large sergeants. Ikely moved forward to help.
What should have taken less than thirty minutes consumed more than an hour. Stiger was not at all surprised. The men moved almost lethargically. Though he did not like it, he understood why. Filthy and ragged, they were living like animals. Half the men were missing proper marching sandals. More disturbing, they looked hungry—almost starved. It was a testament to the supply problems in the encampment.
Stiger recalled the cavalry lieutenant asking about conditions on the road to Aeda. Though he and Eli had not encountered any problems, perhaps the enemy was much more active than he had realized. No matter, he thought. The first objective was to get the men out of the encampment and to a place where they could clean up and get a proper meal. Then the real work of setting things right could begin.
“Sergeant Ranl,” Stiger called, beckoning the sergeant over to him. Ranl came at a trot, sloshing through the stinking muck to where Stiger had been conferring with Lieutenant Ikely. “I want you and the lieutenant to go find the officer in charge of supply. Get us food for three months, extra mules, and a couple of wagons. If you are able, make sure the mules are in good shape. I also want fresh footwear and tunics for the men. General Kromen made it clear we can have anything we want.”
“Yes, sir,” the lieutenant said, making an effort to conceal his nervousness.
Stiger pulled out a gold imperial talon, more than a year’s salary for the common legionary, and handed it to the lieutenant. “Present this with my compliments to the officer in charge. You can share my orders from General Kromen, should he require them. Colonel Karol is writing an amendment to our orders to requisition whatever we require. Make sure the supply officer understands that should he keep me waiting on the amendment, I will not be pleased. Understood?”
“Yes, sir,” Ikely answered.
“Good.” Stiger nodded. The lieutenant and sergeant saluted and left.
Holding the reins of his horse, Stiger gazed at his surroundings. Imperial legionary encampments were expected to be well-ordered, clean, and maintained. Kromen was a powerbroker in the senate and he was trying to increase his family’s prestige by making a go of it here in the South. He had never had any real military experience and had simply purchased, called in favors, and bribed his way into his current position. Stiger saw nothing wrong with such political machinations. It had been done before and would be done again. It was expected that imperial senators would advance their careers and family interests through a successful military command and set an example for the other families by bringing glory to the empire. It was why many sitting senators had begun their careers serving with the legions in their youth. Military service to the empire was considered a pathway to future political success, which in turn usually led to the accumulation of vast wealth, power, and fame.
It was widely understood General Kromen was trying to make up for his lack of service by suppressing the Southern rebellion. Stiger suspected that General Mammot had also not served, meaning the top two leadership positions running the war in the South were held by amateurs. Both had likely also stacked the legions with their own pet officers and clients, leaving only a few hardened professionals like Karol on hand. It appeared that managing legions under their command had proved more than a match for both generals, and the evidence of that was plain.
The legionaries, who had been stuck in this encampment for months, looked like ghosts to Stiger. With no sanitation system, everything was contaminated, including the stream running through the valley from which the men drew their water. Diseases worse than simple dysentery were likely burning their way through the encampment. Hopefully, his men, having recently arrived, had not had time to catch anything too terrible, like the Yellow Death.
Stiger pulled himself up onto his horse. His mount, a stallion named Nomad, kept lifting his hooves to keep them from sinking deeper into the muck. It wasn’t hard to tell he was unsettled.
“Easy, boy,” Stiger soothed, absently patting his horse’s neck. He continued to study the camp, from which thousands of fires smoked lazily upward into what had become a steady rain. Several scarecrows of men from other units trudged by, heads bowed against the downpour. There was a general apathy about them that Stiger found thoroughly disturbing.
The misery was awful. It was overwhelming and it offended Stiger’s sensibilities as a legionary officer. Four entire imperial legions, some of the most powerful fighting formations the world had ever seen, were rotting away before his eyes. Not for the first time, he found himself angry that such good men should be treated in such a manner. At this rate, General Kromen was sowing the seeds for a disaster. The gods alone knew what would happen when winter finally arrived and the ground hardened. At that point, the annual fighting season would begin, as both armies would finally be able to move.
“So, this is what defeat is like,” Stiger said to himself, shaking his head in utter disgust. In the North, under General Treim’s command, he had led a first-rate company. Here in the South, his fortunes seemed to have changed drastically. The gods could be fickle, he knew, offering their fortune one moment and withholding it the next. Twisting the reins with a sudden surge of anger, Stiger resolved to set his own fate. He would make his new command into a first-rate company, very different from the rot that surrounded him. The Eighty-Fifth would become the finest company in the South. He would set an example for others to follow.
The gods had given him a challenge. Anger boiling his blood, Stiger ground his teeth and swore he would accept their challenge and succeed.
About the Author
Marc is an avid reader and accomplished author who spends his days—and nights—dreaming and writing about all things fantasy and sci-fi. In 2015 he decided to make his dream a reality and self-published his first fantasy novel; the rest is history!
Marc has a Bachelor’s Degree in Science and obtained a Master’s in Education as a Reading and Writing Specialist along with a Master’s in Administration. After several years of moonlighting as a writer, Marc applied his experience as a business leader in the healthcare industry to his writing career to become a fulltime author in 2018.
Marc has traveled the world, from Asia to Europe, even at one point crossing the border at Checkpoint Charlie in Berlin toward the end of the Cold War. He is the ultimate history fan and incorporates much of that passion into his work to bring greater realism to his books.
Marc devours several books a week, ranging from history to science fiction and fantasy. He currently resides in Pennsylvania, just miles from where Washington crossed the Delaware.
A Note from the Author
I hope you enjoyed Fallen Empire and continue to read the rest of the series. A wild ride is in store for the reader.
A positive review would be awesome and greatly appreciated, as it affords me the opportunity to focus more time and energy on my writing and helps to persuade others to read my work. I read each and every review.
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Thank you …
Marc Alan Edelheit
Important: If you have not yet given my other series – Chronicles of an Imperial Legionary Officer, Tales of the Seven
th, The Karus Saga, or The Way of the Legend—a shot, I strongly recommend you do. All three series are linked and set in the same universe. There are hints, clues, and Easter eggs sprinkled throughout the series. Give them a shot and hit me up on Facebook to let me know what you think!
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Again, I hope you enjoyed Fallen Empire and would like to offer a sincere thank you for your purchase and support.
Best regards,
Marc Alan Edelheit
Fallen Empire: A Military Science Fiction Epic Adventure (Born of Ash Book 1) Page 39