The First Compact: The Karus Saga (The Karus Saga: Book Book 3)

by Marc Alan Edelheit

  “With their numbers,” Felix said, “they don’t need to hide their work. We know they will have to assault the walls. There is no surprise in that. The question now is … when?”

  “True,” Karus said and nodded for Flaccus to continue.

  “As to their artillery, they have four machines that are nearing completion and another six in partial states of construction. It looks like they sent teska back to their disabled supply train and moved the equipment forward in pieces. Give it a day or two and the buggers will begin lobbing rocks at us. Beyond that, they seem intent on continuing to work on the defenses, sealing in each gate. We will not be getting out anytime soon. That is for certain. I would not even want to try at this point.”

  “We don’t want to get out,” Felix said. “We want to keep them out … at least for a time.”

  “We have noticed a slight concentration toward the north wall,” Delvaris said, speaking up. “Reports have come in this morning on it, a growing of their numbers.”

  “How slight?” Karus asked. This was the first he had heard of it.

  “They’ve moved at least three thousand additional orcs up,” Delvaris said. “Flaccus and I discussed it. We don’t know why or what they are up to … but they are there.”

  “That’s right,” Flaccus said. “It does not seem to be enough for a proper assault, sir. They’re going to need far greater numbers to make a good attempt of it. They could be there for added labor, but we have yet to see them get to work. When I left for this meeting they were still in formation and seemed to be waiting for orders.”

  “Where are they formed up?” Karus asked, glancing down at the map. “And how many orcs are there facing the north wall in total?”

  “Here,” Flaccus said and touched the left side of the north wall on the map. “About five hundred yards from the wall and the addition of this new formation would make it around thirteen thousand, maybe a few more or less. It’s hard to get an accurate count.”

  Karus tried to recall what the ground looked like there before the wall. Something nagged at him. “Wasn’t there a compound located nearby?”

  “It’s been razed sir,” Flaccus said, “and it was a plantation. There was a large bunkhouse, a barn, and several other buildings. There’s nothing but ash there now. Valens saw to that.”

  “Well,” Karus said, “keep an eye on them.”

  “Of course, sir,” Flaccus said.

  “We’ve also spotted several dozen humans among the orcs, sir,” Delvaris said.

  That sent an uncomfortable ripple about the room. The thought of humans working with such creatures seemed unnatural.

  “Before the north wall?” Karus asked.

  “No, sir,” Delvaris said, “near their main encampment.”

  Karus was silent a moment as he considered this new information. Was it Logex and his people? Or had they simply legged it? Karus suspected it was the latter.

  “We knew humans of this world work with the enemy,” Karus said. “Keep in mind, they are the enemy, just the same as if they were orcs. Don’t expect them to think like us. Look at what the bloody refugees did.”

  “The barbarian mind,” Flaccus said. “Idiots.”

  “The enemy might be preparing to test our defenses on the north wall in some way,” Felix said, “see how prepared and determined we are.”

  “It could be that,” Arrens said. “Their commander might want to learn how we’re going to defend the city … see what weapons we have at our disposal, that sort of thing.”

  Looking down at the map and the north wall, Karus considered what his officers had said. All of the weapons they had to repel an assault—rocks, heated sand, boiling water, pitch, oil, arrows, slings, spears, javelins, bolt throwers, and ultimately swords and shields—were fairly standard. The enemy would expect such weapons.

  “It is more likely,” Karus said, “that their first assault or two will simply be probing in nature. Like Arrens said, the enemy general might just want to see how we’re going to defend the city … how tenacious we will be.”

  “Should we hold something back, then?” Flaccus asked. “Save the oil and pitch? If they attack, that is? Make it seem like we’re weaker than we actually are? Lull them into a false sense of confidence …?”

  “I don’t think so,” Karus said. “If an attack comes, it will likely be to test our strength and will to resist. We won’t play games when it comes to that. Doing so might cost lives and I will not have it. We give it our all. I want that understood. There is to be no holding back. They attack, we punish them and murder as many as we can. That is our goal.”

  “Perhaps we should consider reinforcing the north wall,” Felix said, “sending two or three more centuries as reserves might give the senior centurion there some backbone.”

  “Backbone?” Flaccus bristled. His cohort was one of two holding the north wall, and command for that wall was in Flaccus’s hands. The centurion’s face flushed with anger. “You think I need backbone?”

  “I am just teasing,” Felix said and held his hands up. Arrens and Macrinus shared an amused look. Karus, however, was still focused on the problem of the enemy increasing their strength on the north side.

  “How many men do we have there, now?” Karus asked. “How many men hold the north wall?”

  “Nine hundred and fifty-four, as of this morning,” Flaccus said, without hesitation. “First Cohort is there too, along with an auxiliary cohort in reserve, three hundred and eighty more, mostly light infantry with bows and slings.”

  “The First Nervorium?” Karus asked, recalling the dispositions from the previous night’s meeting. To give a break from either hard labor or sentry duty, several of the legionary cohorts and auxiliaries had been rotated around.

  Standing units up for extended periods of time on the walls was taxing on the men, even if all they were doing was watching the enemy. It was something every centurion had learned. You could not remain on alert forever and maintain an edge.

  Fatigue would inevitably set in and that was when mistakes were likely to be made. Vital things could be overlooked or, worse, men slacking off when it came to duty. Hence, every other day, units posted to the wall were rotated off for a break.

  “Yes, sir,” Flaccus said. “Otho’s boys are the ready reserve.”

  Karus took Felix’s suggestion seriously, even though it had been made as a half jest. “If they go for the walls, it will take time for them to make any progress. That is, if they can. I expect we will be able to shift reserves to where they are needed, when they’re required and not before. Felix, I don’t want to shuffle our dispositions around too much. Marching men from one side of the city to the other and then back again in full kit will be tiring, especially in this brutal heat. We need our boys fresh for when the action begins.”

  “Yes, sir,” Felix said.

  “And it could begin at any time,” Delvaris said.

  Karus gave the tribune a nod, then looked down at the oversized map of the city. He hated meetings, as they sometimes tended to drag on needlessly. This was his third of the day. His days seemed to be consumed by them.

  Welcome to command, Karus thought to himself.

  The day had started with the legion’s chief engineer and after that had been a meeting with Dennig and Martuke. Dennig’s second in command had been as tiresome and querulous as usual. That had made the meeting with the dwarves almost painful to bear. Karus had found it difficult to keep his temper, but he had. Meetings, like this one, were necessary, especially if things were to be done right, and so Karus put up with them. He had made it a point to regularly meet with all of his senior officers in small groups, like this meeting.

  He gazed around the table. There was likely more that could be discussed, but Karus had tired of it. There were things he wanted to get done before his tour with Felix. If he continued with the meeting, he doubted he would have time for them.

  “Is there anything more that’s pressing?” Karus asked.

&nb
sp; No one replied. Karus glanced down at the map again, wondering if he’d forgotten anything he had wanted to address. His eyes were drawn to the oil depots marked out on the map by each gate. An idea hit him.

  “Flaccus,” Karus said, looking up, “send me ten picked men, including Optio Divius and his partner in crime, Lanza. They will officially be on detached duty. I have a job for them, and I want to pass on my orders personally.”

  “Yes, sir,” Flaccus said.

  Karus could tell the centurion wanted to ask what he had in store for both men. Before he could, Karus addressed those gathered at the table.

  “Good work, gentlemen. I appreciate your efforts and I won’t keep you any longer from your duties. Once the sun sets, I plan on holding a senior officer meeting, around eight bells tonight. There will be food served. If anything changes, I will alert you. Dismissed.”

  The officers came to attention, saluted, and then left, filing out of the room and into his headquarters. Felix, however, remained behind. Karus looked over at the centurion and arched an eyebrow, curious.

  “Tell me you are uncomfortable with the enemy’s inaction, too,” Felix said.

  “They’ve been relatively busy building defenses. I would not call them inactive. From the scope of their works, I’d say industrious is a more appropriate way of describing them.”

  “You know what I mean,” Felix said.

  Karus was silent for a moment as he considered his friend. Felix looked tired, like he had not gotten a good night’s sleep for several days. All of his senior officers were tired, run-down even. They were burning the candle at both ends to prepare for the enemy’s inevitable attack.

  Despite keeping busy, the stress of waiting on the enemy, day after day, was beginning to take a toll on everyone. Karus himself had only managed three hours of restless sleep during the night.

  “We knew it would take time for them to become organized,” Karus said. “After all, Valens did cripple their supply train.” Karus paused, sucked in a breath, and then let it out slowly. “But yes, I am uncomfortable with the inaction as well. I had expected something before now … even if it was only a parley to talk.”

  “They’re up to something,” Felix said. “It’s a gut feeling, but I just know it.”

  Karus gave a slow nod. “I think so too. The question remains … what are they up to?”

  “That, I don’t know.”

  Karus knuckled the table, rapping it lightly. He keenly felt the frustration of not knowing.

  “Regardless,” Karus said, “the longer they delay, the better for us.”

  “Agreed,” Felix said. “I just wish Dennig’s people would hurry up and get here to relieve us.”

  “Me too.” Karus gave the enemy’s inaction a moment’s more thought before looking back up. “Give me two hours. I will meet you at the palace steps for that tour. It will be good to stretch my legs, but there are some things I need to attend to first.”

  “Yes, sir.” Felix drew himself up to attention, saluted, and left.

  Alone in his office, Karus returned his gaze to the map of the city. He scanned it, studying the defensive lines, strong points, corridors designed to funnel the enemy into his killing grounds. There were dozens of additional notations on the map, some made by his own hand and others by his clerks or Delvaris.

  They marked the positions of centuries and cohorts, already positioned within the city. The dwarven dispositions too were noted. The notes also indicated all fountains and paths of the aqueducts. The city’s sewers were also marked. His men would be using some of them to move about the city. Others had been caved in to deny the enemy their use.

  With each day that passed, the enemy was giving him time to improve his defenses, to better prepare a hot reception. With all that was being done, Karus was well pleased with the legion’s progress.

  So, why did he feel unsettled? He glanced in the direction of the doorway that led to his headquarters. The noise and hubbub from activity drifted into the office. Felix was right. The enemy was up to something.

  “Right,” Karus said, “time to get a move-on.”

  He stepped over to the corner of his office, where he had left the sword. He picked up the weapon by the scabbard and slipped the harness over his head and shoulder, settling it comfortably into place. His hand found the hilt. The welcoming tingle raced up his arm.

  He spared one more look at the map, turned away, and stepped out of his office. Headquarters was crowded and hot from the press of bodies, almost uncomfortably so. With all that the legion was doing, it was a beehive of activity as reports were received, information recorded and analyzed, reports generated, and orders cut. Even with the shutters to the windows thrown open, the room smelled strongly of sweat, lamp oil, tallow from candles, and ink.

  Delvaris was seated at a table, reading through a stack of reports written on wax tablets. If there was anything that required Karus’s personal attention, Delvaris or Serma would make certain the matter was brought immediately before him.

  A messenger took a dispatch from one of the clerks and immediately made for the exit. The clerk bent back over the table and, using a stylus, began writing. Headquarters was the heartbeat of the legion, and it showed.

  “Serma,” Karus called as he walked after the messenger toward the doorway that led out to the rest of the palace. He stopped, looking back over at the clerk.

  “Sir?” The clerk set his stylus down and stood, respectfully. “How may I help you?”

  “If you have need of me,” Karus said, “I am headed to the gardens.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Serma said.

  The two guards crisply snapped to attention as he stepped out of his headquarters. The corridor that ran the length of the main floor of the palace was cooler. Karus found his personal escort, four legionaries from First Cohort, waiting. They immediately fell in behind him as he started forward.

  Two messengers hurrying the opposite way stopped, came to attention against the wall, and saluted. Their faces were flushed and they were sweating. It was yet another brutally hot day. At least the palace mostly remained cool. Whoever had built it clearly knew what they were doing.

  Karus gave them a nod and passed by. A few feet beyond, he found himself hesitating at the entrance to the gardens, hand on the frame of the open doorway. Si’Cara was out there, training Amarra. He wanted to visit with Amarra, even if it was for a short time. He found her presence refreshing and a break from the headaches of command.

  Other than to spend the nights with her, he had not seen her much over the last few days. And then, she was exhausted almost beyond measure, immediately turning in and going to sleep. Si’Cara, good to her word, was being a hard taskmaster when it came to the High Priestess’s training. The elf trained Amarra until she was ready to drop. Karus thought that a good thing and approved.

  Still hesitating, he almost stepped outside … but, Karus thought, there was something else that needed doing first. He turned and made his way farther down the corridor. The guards at the entrance to the palace’s great hall snapped to attention as he neared.

  “Wait here,” Karus told his escort as he entered what had once been the seat of Carthum’s power, the throne room of the king. The hobnails on his sandals clacked hollowly upon the marble floor as he strode down the hall.

  He ignored the captured standards and trophies of war with which, over the centuries, the kings of Carthum had decorated the hall. His eyes were fixed on the legion’s Eagle, which was closely guarded by four legionaries.

  The Eagle had been placed upon a raised dais, where the king’s throne had once sat. Until the enemy had arrived, the Eagle had been surrounded by the collective standards of the legion. Each cohort and century had placed their standards here.

  They had since been removed and returned to their respective units. The men would be heartened by their presence and would fight harder as a result. They always did, for there was collective pride and honor contained within each. It also helped th
at the standard-bearers were the ones to keep track of the books, including the men’s pay and pensions. If the men would not fight for pride and honor, they’d sure as shit fight for their savings.

  Only the Eagle remained, a solitary reminder of the legion’s honor, and by extension that of the empire. Also, Karus thought, in a manner of speaking … the Eagle touched on Jupiter himself. The Eagle was not just a symbol, but a representation of the divine. The Eagle shrine was a holy place that legionaries of all ranks were permitted to visit, offer devotion, or simply pray.

  He stopped, studying the Eagle for a heartbeat, then shifted his gaze to the Eagle guard.

  “Leave me with the Eagle.”

  “Yes, sir,” one of the legionaries, an optio, said. “Come on, lads. Let’s give the camp prefect some privacy.”

  Karus waited for them to leave the great hall. Once they had, he stepped up onto the dais. Karus found his heart had started beating a little faster. The Eagle had always held special meaning to him, beyond simply being an inspiration. The emperor himself had held the standard with his own hands and presented it to the legion. It was a ceremony that dated back to the founding of the empire and the first emperor. Karus stared at the Eagle for a long moment before dropping down to a knee and bowing his head.

  “Jupiter.” Karus cleared his throat. “High Father … I do not have a proper sacrifice for you. There was no time to find one. Until I do, I thank you with all of my heart for your many blessings. I thank you for healing my boys from the sickness. I thank you for my life and the honor to lead the legion. I thank you for your trust in me.” Karus paused as he gathered his thoughts for what would come next. “All that said, we are in a difficult position and could use some divine help. I humbly ask you lend me the strength, if you would, to see the legion through the days ahead. I fear they will be filled with trial and hardship. Help me lead your faithful to victory over our enemies.” Karus felt a righteous anger toward the Horde grow within his breast. “Help me show them the might of Rome. Great god, I ask that you bless and assist us in killing our enemies, preferably by the tens of thousands. Help us murder those unholy bastards and send them on from this life to the next. Lend us the strength to see your will done in this world and we will do it.”