Grimdux
I. This is the direct sequel to Touch O' Luck
Touch O' Luck
II) It serves as a prologue to the Old Realms series.
It will be a superior reading experience
to start this story from the beginning
Please give it a good rating if you liked it, it will help the story reach a much bigger audience:)
Chapter specific maps of the realms
Maps of the Realms
Character portraits
On to your sacred ancestors’ bones and your mother’s blood
The sky above and the earth beneath our feet.
On Uher the Godsfather’s Holy Light and on Tyeus’ blood-soaked fields.
On Naossis pleasure not to be denied and Oras black heart to guide your soul true.
On Luthos favor never to waver from your side.
The Duchess Oath
Circa 190 NC
Legatus Lucius Alden
A Hundred Days
Part X
-The Duchess of Krakenhall-
The young heir run up the stairs, the leather tube containing the fated missive inside tightly closed, although almost everyone handling the birds had read it. He paused before the stern faced guards on the open doors leading to the rebuild throne room, the gray squid engraved on their polished plate armour drawing those blue and green eyes, but the guards quickly ushered him inside as he was expected.
His mother stood on her stone throne, the back high and the tentacles sprouting like a halo above her leaving no doubt as to what the sculpted creature was. The Duchess had her red hair gathered back in a loose ponytail and wore her leather pants instead of formal dress, her shirt made out of hard leather armor and quality chainmail. He stopped and looked apprehensively at the horrifically scarred face of the much older man standing tall next to the throne, clad in breastplate and a double-headed axe on his back.
The young heir gulped down nervously and the man’s lips split showing him his teeth in a menacing leer. The Duchess stopping their exchange with an impatient wave of her hand.
“Speak boy,” she ordered harshly and he stood back stunned not expecting the emotion in her voice. “Are the rumors true?”
The boy nodded and his mother hanged her head, fists clenched tight and wept in dignified silence. The latter the most shocking event, as his mother hadn’t shed a tear neither for her own father, nor his baby brother that had died of fever last summer.
By the end of that day the whole Duchy was in mourning.
Lucius Legion* (Later 3rd Legion)
Total x3840 (combined- minus Supply Train and Officers)
(3200 Legionnaires, 200 Slingers, 200 Cavalry, 100 Scouts, 100 Engineers, 40 Medics)
Officers (In order of rank)
1x Legatus Legionis
1x Tribune (added after 192 NC)
1x Camp Prefect
16 Centurions
1x Leader of Horse (Centurion equivalent) – (Optio added after 193 NC)
1x Centurion of Scouts
1x Centurion of Slingers
1x Centurion of Engineers (added after 192 NC)
1x Chief Dottore (Centurion equivalent)
18 Optio (No Optio of Slingers)
2x Decurion of Cavalry
19 Decanus
(Not officers, equivalent pay to Centurions)
1x Panthera Tigris** Signifer
4x Cohort Signifers
1x Legion Cornicen (Horn blower)
1st Cohort
1st Century x500 Legionnaires
2nd Century x180 Legionnaires
3rd Century x180 Legionnaires
4rth Century x180 Legionnaires
Total x1040 legionnaires
2nd Cohort
1st Century x180 Legionnaires
2nd Century x180 Legionnaires
3rd Century x180 Legionnaires
4rth Century x180 Legionnaires
Total x720 Legionnaires
3rd Cohort
1st Century x180 Legionnaires
2nd Century x180 Legionnaires
3rd Century x180 Legionnaires
4rth Century x180 Legionnaires
Total x720 Legionnaires
4rth Cohort
1st Century x180 Legionnaires
2nd Century x180 Legionnaires
3rd Century x180 Legionnaires
4rth Century x180 Legionnaires
Total x720 Legionnaires
Legion Slingers x200
Legion Scouts x100
Legion Cavalry x200
Legion Engineers x100 (60 engineers, 20 carpenters, 10 smiths, 10 Scorpios Sergeants)
Legion Hospital (10 Dottore/Physicians/Surgeons, 30 medical staff)
*The Legatus preliminary charts and plans were first put on paper probably as early as the summer of 190 NC, finalized later that year and took their final form before 193 NC. Everyone though had started calling Lucius’ army after the ‘Hundred Days’ campaign with the more palatable Lucius Legion.
**It must be noted here Lucius’ Legion Panthera Tigris differed from the First Legion’s Alden Tigris and of course the white boar, or Aper Albineus of Lesia’s Second.
Galio saw him walking down the narrow corridor of the keep’s hall through its open doors, pale faced and with fresh stiches hurting over his brow, his left eye bloodshot and turned to the locals gathered there.
“Legatus Legionis, Sir Lucius Alden!” He boomed and the ten soldiers present came to attention eyeing the similar number of civilians under the rims of their helms menacingly. Lucius entered the small hall and went to sit on the empty small throne in the middle of it. His armour clanging on the rough hardwood narrow seat when he sat down.
Lucius looked at the uneasy Issirs, three out of the eight being of mixed-blood. Half-Issirs Half-Nords. The Jarl’s bigotry had provided Vanzon with a steady stream of new residents, as it wasn’t easy to keep regular Issirs emigrating to the North even with the naval yards of Krakenhall providing ‘easy’ work. The latter’s presence there having to do more with the significant amount of iron present in the area and less with the High King valuing the city port that much. The Fleet had as large a naval base in Caspo O’ Bor and Vanzon’s port was only open for half the year anyway.
Between Krakenfort and Krakenhall now, the larger Krakenhall had the advantage of being ‘closer’ to Kaltha be it by sea, or land, but Krakenfort had the bigger iron deposits and guarded the road to Rockfort and Fetya.
Eh, Lucius thought leaving the matter aside for now, at least I get to sit down for a while since morning, without a dottore sticking needles in my head.
“Who is in charge?” He asked the Krakenfort’s officials, tired hoarse voice reverberating inside the elongated narrow hall. The candles burning making the atmosphere inside stone hall suffocating.
A slim Issir man, white hair cut short and trimmed beard, stepped forward under Galio’s glare. He cleared his throat a couple of times and then bowed his head courtly.
“Lord Alden, I’m Ko Nobbe, part-owner of the iron mines,” he announced.
“Who has the other part?”
“That would be Lord Kroneberg sire,” Nobbe replied losing some of his confidence. Lucius stared at Galio and the Prefect checked the scroll Trupo had given him earlier. The Centurion had stayed in the field to sort out the casualties and have a final report for them later in the evening or on the morrow. Lucius just didn’t have enough time to take care of everything and he trusted the people under him to do the job they had been tasked with.
“He’s dead Legatus,” Galio informed him.
Lots of that as well, Lucius thought with a scowl.
“Then his half reverts to the state, sire,” Ko Nobbe informed him.
“Go on,” He told the local iron magnate.
“Baron Gert Huevel’s family runs the Castle and has a small share as well,” Nobbe replied looking about him nervously. Lucius glanced at Galio and the Prefect shook his head right and left.
“The Baron is dead as well mister Nobbe. Does he have any heirs?”
“His son was killed two years ago sire,” the man explained. “His wife alas, gave him a daughter after the boy. Nothing since.”
I see.
“How was he killed?”
“Jarl’s dastardly raid at Ludriver sire,” the man replied. “He was serving there as second in command.”
Lucius had heard at least two versions of this story.
“His daughter and wife shall be provided for,” he announced. “His share of the mines the army will accept as reparation.”
A loud murmur came from the men present.
“SILENCE!” Galio boomed, putting an end to that.
“Who is in charge here mister Nobbe?” Lucius asked him again and the man took a step back, white as snow.
“You sire,” he replied.
“Why?” Lucius asked him patiently.
“You’ve won the battle sire,” the man replied. “It’s within your rights.”
“A man of my choosing shall take up the Baron’s position,” Lucius announced and got up. The throne was hurting his back. “There will be a local assigned to run your affairs under him. There will be no reprisals, but I don’t enjoy insubordination or troublemakers. You can go on with your lives under the new management.”
“May I suggest Mart Buuren Lord Alden,” Nobbe said nervously. “He has traveled extensively and would be an asset to help with the transition.”
“I shall consider it,” Lucius told him and the Issir bowed his head pleased.
“Optio Nonus Sula,” Galio proposed immediately. “He should lead the First Century milord.”
“Fine, you take care of it Prefect,” Lucius agreed half an hour later. They were still in Krakenfort’s hall. “But prepare the men to march in two days.”
“What about the wounded?”
“The Second Century will stay behind, help with the transition and tend to the wounded,” Lucius told him. “I will need an officer to run it after that. I need Centurion Tutor for something else.”
“His Optio Titus Macrinus is a good choice,” Galio replied readily. The Prefect’s knowledge of the men under him outstanding. “A good trainer. Not good for a social visit.”
Lucius nodded.
“I’ll need four picks for new Centurions as well, other than Sula,” he started, but paused seeing Galio getting a small scroll out of his waistband. Made to offer it to Lucius after checking it quickly, but he frowned looking at the poor handwriting and proceeded to read the names instead.
“Cassius Falx, First Century. Placus Lepidus, Fourth Century. Those are from the First Cohort. Lepidus is an excellent officer. Julius Scrofa and Jorgen Osmont, both from the Second Cohort, First Century. Sabinus’ lads,” he added looking at Lucius expectantly.
“They will do,” Lucius agreed, trusting his judgement. The Prefect had been with him since the start of this adventure. Never wavered once, after Lucius first met him at the gates of Alden helping the local guard. “Thank you Galio.”
“Ah, yer welcomed milord. Just doing my job,” Galio replied and tossed the scroll into the fireplace. “May I inquire as to the need for four new Centurions?”
“I intend to leave the Second behind as I mentioned, while we march towards Krakenhall,” Lucius explained touching the bloody scar over his brow with a finger. “That doesn’t mean Macrinus and Tutor will be idle.”
Lucius wanted those recruits turned into another Cohort as soon as possible. You needed three to declare the outfit a Lorian Legion. While the Lorian Legion Centuries were massive in size at one thousand Legionnaires per for the First Cohort and six hundred for the other two, Lucius had seen in the smaller in scale battles of the North, the necessity for smaller units. Perhaps two hundred per spread in four Centuries such as we have done so far, he thought. Nah, a hundred and eighty. Four centuries per Cohort, the final number seven hundred and twenty, but for the First Cohort. Four Cohorts and not three. Have one kept in reserve at all times. His Legion’s total number three thousand two hundred. Maybe give Galio one big Century. Make it five hundred men. Something close to it and that’s it.
“You will give Tutor command of Krakenfort milord?” Galio asked.
“We can’t exactly leave one of the locals in charge on our backs Prefect,” Lucius explained and ended their meeting.
Trupo saluted and Lucius returned it, the light of torches not enough to keep the camp well lit. Most of the army had returned to their camp, but for the Second that had found lodgings inside Vanzon’s empty camp and Krakenfort. Lucius who hadn’t rest a minute since the previous day rode into the camp and headed straight for Zofia’s tent. He glared at the mix-breeds guarding the entrance and they stepped aside.
Zofia’s smile took him by surprise. She was playing with the baby under the watchful eye of Dirk Curd. The man had a heavily bandaged right leg, a sling on his left hand and a swollen face as he’d been trampled by a horse.
Or trying to stop one from getting away with his body.
“Lucius,” Zofia said seeing him. “There’s our hero,” she teased sounding a little tipsy.
“What in Oras hell happened back there?” Lucius rustled not in the mood for celebration after he’d seen people thrown into the funeral pyre not even two hours earlier. Men and women that he liked and had supported him through the whole ordeal.
Zofia frowned. “You won Lucius. Vanzon is dead.”
Lucius breathed once slowly and glared at a quiet Curd. The man looked half-dead and twice as tired as the Legatus.
“What the hell where you doing out there?” He asked him and Curd crooked the part of his face he could still move.
“Saw an opening,” he said, voice gravely. “Did what I had to do.”
“You chopped his head off!” Lucius blasted him. “Hurled it at the feet of his men! The whole army saw it Curd, are you serious?”
“Incentive, milord,” Curd replied and sat back on the stool he had. It was too small for his frame. “Made ‘em less eager to keep on fighting.”
Lucius closed his eyes trying to regain his composure.
“You left Kaeso alone in the flank,” he told him restrained.
“Kaeso had a hole in him, looked more dead than alive,” Curd explained. “So I didn’t think about asking for his opinion. When I left the flank was secure.”
“Running through the field to attack Vanzon,” Lucius said grinding his teeth. “Pulled Galio’s whole right flank along with you… What?” He snapped seeing him not agreeing.
“Zofia’s men,” Curd argued. “And mix-breeds. You said men can go wherever they want Lord Alden. Vanzon wanted me dead. He stood in my way. It was either him or me.”
“No, Curd, it wasn’t. That’s a wrapped way of thinking,” Lucius grunted, a vein throbbing under his wound. “Vanzon had lost the battle. I wanted him to surrender to me, so we can agree on a proper truce. He was a Lord for crying out loud! I didn’t want him butchered and kicked about in the field!” He threw his arms up and the baby started crying waking up. “Bah!” Lucius gasped frustrated, feeling guilty for scaring the child.
“What do you think Vanzon would’ve done?” Zofia asked him, while rocking the baby in her hands. She was looking much better now, the climate agreeing with her or perhaps it was the ale, Lucius thought. Zofia was always more lively when she had her cups.
Lucius licked his dry lips. “What do you mean?”
“If you lost. If we have lost here,” Zofia said, looking at him. Dirk grimaced and stared at his muddy boots. “What would Lord Vanzon have done to you Lucius? Or to me? My baby,” her eyes narrowed. “Yours.”
Lucius stared at her. “This is no bloody way to conduct a war,” he said, but deep down Lucius knew she was right. It was doubtful Vanzon would have spared him or Faye. Lord Crull had tried to have him killed the day after he’d met him. As he’d said to Roderick more than a year back, these Lords were behaving like criminals. “I can’t condone this,” he repeated the same words.
“But they can, milord,” Curd said. “That’s how it is.”
“I shall not fight like an uncultured beast, Curd,” Lucius said. “You’ve disobeyed orders again.”
“No he didn’t,” Zofia intervened and Lucius glared at her frustrated.
“He was to stay at the flank and protect Galio’s center! People were dying to keep the whole thing from falling apart!” He growled, but Zofia wasn’t intimidated, she gave the shocked into silence baby to an unsure Curd, the man handling it gingerly like it was made out of paper and walked up to him. Lucius had seen that scowl before.
“I told Dirk to kill Vanzon in the first chance he got. Not to come back if he didn’t,” she said surprisingly calm and glanced at the silent mix-breed. “It was too good an opportunity to pass up.”
“This is not your campaign Zofia,” Lucius said tiredly.
“They tried to have me tortured and killed in Riverdor. They cut my brother’s head off!” Zofia hissed and added without an ounce of pity in her voice. “The only I thing I regret, is not having his stupid fat head here, so I can kick it around myself! I have people looking for it though, so we’ll see about that.”
Ah, Lucius thought and shook his head in despair. You were never subtle woman.
“I will say this once,” he started looking at both of them. “It will be the final time I’m dealing with trouble coming from you two. I understand revenge, but it won’t happen under my watch. Zofia, you are not in charge here. You’ll never be in charge of anything, unless people can trust you not to blow everything up. You don’t have your father’s favor anymore. Curd is wanted in half the North and probably all of Kaltha now and your only ally has had enough. If you’re with me, you do as I say.”
Zofia took a step back and sighed.
“What happens if you decide this is over?” She asked him. “What happens to me?”
“Butchering your father’s enemies won’t endear him to your baby Zofia, neither will it make him accept Curd into the family. The way I see it, he wants you married with Steele and with everything that happened before that wiped out.”
“That won’t happen,” Zofia said. “I’ll fight him if I have to.”
Fantastic, let us win this war first and then kill each other in the bloody celebration!
“How about we work on something else?” Lucius told her. “Since sending Curd with a couple of hundred men to kill the Jarl isn’t much of a plan right?”
Zofia scrunched her face troubled.
“What plan?” She asked resigned.
“Let me worry about that,” Lucius assured her.
Lucius marched out of Krakenfort leaving Gladius Tutor behind as governor, along with newly promoted in the late Sabinus place, Centurion Nonus Sula’s Second Century of the First Cohort and a good number of injured soldiers. Governor Tutor assigned a local merchant named Mart Buuren as Deputy Governor and the rich iron magnate Ko Nobbe as his advisor, effectively bringing Krakenfort under Lucius control.
The small Castle city was to grow in the later years turning into a safe haven for entrepreneurs, as despite the inhospitable weather, its independent status, the rich mine contracts that brought wealth to its citizens, the abundance of high quality wood and the new roads built bringing two faraway parts of the North closer, made it an opportune destination.
As was being near a man very close to the Legatus.
The first bird to arrive from Krakenfort to Maza Burg wasn’t to appear for another month, as Lucius after setting up communications, advised Tutor to keep the word of their success a secret until after he’d secured Krakenhall.
The still not formed Legion got in a bit of trouble crossing Direwolf’s Road, the long but narrow strip of land between Umlen and Retford rivers, when a pack of fifty huge predators got out of the woods (Trupo described it as a huge hole in the ground) and attacked their mules. The affair turned into a half day proper battle, eleven civilians getting killed or eaten according to another source and several animals sharing the same fate. ‘Hulking’ Layton who performed exceptionally well during the scrap, declared the pelts gathered ‘an excellent haul’ for ‘such a small den’. Not everyone present shared his enthusiasm.
On the ninety ninth day of his campaign Lucius Alden reached the gates of Krakenhall. Reggy De Vent, the Mayor of the city came out of the gates to meet with the Legatus entourage, bringing with him Captain Kevin Vros commander of the local city’s guard. Captain Vros seeing the Legion armoured columns standing behind the famed Legatus and knowing he’d neither the men, nor the will to put up any kind of fight, since Krakenhall had been stripped from men, first from the High King and then by losing good troops for almost two years straight, advised the under severe pressure Mayor to offer terms. A letter that had arrived from Issir’s Eagle had ordered the Mayor to not allow its capture. Another letter that had arrived from Midlanor had advised him to avoid battle and stall for as long as he could.
It must be noted here that both missives were for the late Lord Vanzon, opened by De Vent as Krakenhall had run out of officials.
Mayor De Vent did offer vague terms opting to stall, Lucius didn’t agree and ordered Galio to prepare the men for a siege. Captain Kevin Vros, a mix-breed intervened and arrested the Mayor the moment they returned to the city. Lucius had given them a one day ultimatum, but early the next morning the gates opened and Port Master Jerome Otter, serving as an acting Mayor after De Vent had gotten his head chopped off swiftly the previous night, surrendered the city to a stunned Lucius. His first action when he entered Lord Vanzon’s hall, was to order Kevin Vros arrested and executed in turn.
It is to be noted that there were no ships present at Krakenhall at the time Lucius arrived there. The city stood half empty. Most of the prominent purebred Issirs had evacuated the city in panic the moment the weather opened up and news of Rockfort’s conundrum reached them. The Krakenhall refugee flotilla arrived at Sallowhall later that month losing two transports in the brief journey through the sinister icebergs of the Northern Sea. Some prominent lords got lost in the disaster, for a total of seven hundred civilians drown. Opened seas that early in the year was as it turned out, a euphemism.
In the end Lord Vanzon had been left to fight the war by himself, with few prominent Issirs and the majority of Krakenhall’s large mix-breed population remaining in the city for the most part. The latter because they had nowhere else to run to. Not all lords in Kaltha favored them as much as the late Lord Vanzon.
Midlanor while it had vested interest in the important city’s affairs was heavily preoccupied elsewhere. It did respond in a sense, albeit not as the late Lord would have preferred to.
Never had Lucius seen a gloomier hall than the one he’d found himself into. Lord Vanzon’s city was a mixture of the sturdy stone buildings favored by the Issirs and the typical wood longhouses of the North. A narrow street city, full of inclines and worn out cobblestone. The mouth of the port while big was still not safe to venture out of and the port itself perhaps the coldest part of the city.
Jerome Otter, a fat large cheeked Issir with a prominent nose and small eyes for the face, stared at him miserably expecting the worst. Seeing two of his close friends in the city council turn on each other and dying some hours apart had rattled the man to his core.
“As the new ruler of the city,” Lucius started and paused fearing Otter would collapse on the hard stone floor and break his head. The man didn’t, Galio signing for Trupo to flank him closer just in case and Lucius continued. “I promise I shall allow no reprisals to the locals. This is a professional army and we are not savages, Mister Otter.”
“Of course Lord Alden, absolutely,” Otter replied nervously, sweating despite the chilly air of the dark hall.
“I will have order restored and the city shall continue under a new ruler. This will be an independent city and it will form along with Krakenfort a new Duchy,” he paused to gather himself. “By the ancient right of conquest it is in my right to name the new Duke.”
Otter cleared his throat.
“Yes, Mister Otter?”
“Are we to be part of Regia Lord Alden?” He asked timidly.
“What does independent mean my friend?” Lucius asked patiently.
“Unattached?” He chanced.
“Prefect Veturius?” Lucius asked channeling his father.
“Milord I can’t think of a better term,” a frowned Galio replied, Trupo grimacing next to him, blond mustache dancing on his upper lip, in an attempt to keep the smile off of his face.
“Well then,” Lucius said sitting back on the large throne Lord Vanzon had installed. A very comfortable seat, but perhaps too roomy for Lucius. “Since we’re absent of another meaning, let us call it that, right Mister Otter?”
“Why… absolutely, Lord Alden,” Otter loved that word.
“Of course the new Duke will be under my protection,” Lucius Alden added lessening the independent status, much as rulers do this world over. “And you’ll remain as Mayor and Port Master. I don’t expect you to build any ships soon. You can do both jobs, do I have it correct Mister Otter?”
Otter’s relieved reply not surprising anyone inside the hall.
“Absolutely, Lord Alden.”
Three hours later Lucius was inspecting the city guard, now under the supervision of former Decanus of the Fourth Century Josh O’ Leary, a Nord from Ludr that had joined back in Maza Burg. The Guard was three hundred men strong, but not particularly well-trained, other than policing duty.
“What does the men need Captain?” Lucius asked and the tall wiry Northman, hair cut extremely short making his large ears pop out of his head, replied readily.
“Training milord.”
“Quite right,” Lucius replied. “Also numbers. There are people sitting about, workers idle in the naval yard. How about you make this lot into a decent army Captain? It might take time, but it is a job.”
“The mix-breeds milord? They were used as auxiliary units from Lord Vanzon,” he paused seeing Lucius expression. “But they can do the job, I reckon.”
“It’s a big city, granted a bit empty now, but people will return. If they don’t, new people might take their place just the same. Men can go wherever they want,” Lucius told him. “The Duchy needs an army of its own Captain. The Legion can’t stay here forever.”
“I will make the effort to recruit immediately milord.”
“Thank you Captain,” Lucius smacked his lips and eyed him. “Sam O’ Dargan had recommended you back in Maza right?”
“Aye, milord. I was familiar with the Legion tactics,” the man replied.
“Had family employed as scouts?” Lucius chanced.
“My father fought against it milord,” O’ Leary replied. “And yer father.”
Of course.
“The Jarl isn’t in charge here Captain.”
“I know milord.”
“A number of your friends stayed at the blocking force we left at Rockfort,” Lucius continued wanting to get to the bottom of this. “Men from Ludr is my meaning. You didn’t. I don’t expect to see them again. Am I wrong?”
Josh glanced at him, the men of the city guard frozen in attention not daring to move, as their conversation was dragging. They were standing in front of them in the square dominated by the dark grey mass of the Admiralty building. Most of its cadets and marines either with the fleet, or dead, used as fodder by Lord Vanzon in the war.
“Ah, those who chose to stay back, won’t return to you milord. That’s as far as they’ll go.”
“You didn’t. Why?”
“Mad Wolf asked for those that wanted to follow his sister milord. Not everyone from Ludr wanted to follow after her though. Most men don’t want to fight the Jarl down the line.”
“There will be no fight with the Jarl down the line Captain,” Lucius told him a little frustrated as he feared the possibility. “Why exile yourself O’ Leary? Zofia might not return to Ludr.”
“She’s Zofia O’ Dargan Milord,” the man replied. “The name matters in the North. The blood matters. My family is connected to her through the Jarl’s wife Mary.”
“I didn’t know that,” Lucius admitted. “Was Lady Mary behind Sam’s willingness to help his sister?”
“I wouldn’t know sire,” O’ Leary replied earnestly. “But she was behind mine and most of the lads Sam gave her. Some would say, he didn’t have much of a choice in the matter. We were going to follow her either way.”
As had the men Faye had with her, even the mute Logan ‘Gray’ Barret. Bound to her by old debts, oaths and blood.
Either spilt or shared.
Lucius nodded remembering a younger Zofia’s words early on in their journey, while they were still in Regia. Beyond those mountains, your world ends Lucius, Zofia had told him.
“Get Krakenhall the men it needs Captain,” Lucius had told him. “You may have to honor your oath in the future.”
The relief on the men’s faces the moment they ended their long conversation evident.
Lucius eyed the men and women present in late Lord Vanzon’s hall. More candles had been installed, the huge fireplace burning bright helping in that department. It was the biggest Lucius had ever seen, by no means the fanciest, but still its size gave you pause.
Prefect Veturius was present, Primus Pilus Centurion Trupo, Captain of Krakenhall’s City Guard Josh O’ Leary clad in his new metal armour sporting a large squid on his chest. Mayor Joseph Otter and the ever silently scowling Logan ‘Gray’ Barret standing protectively next to a heavy Faye on his right, the latter looking tired and still grieving the loss of her childhood friend Alana, the hulking presence of Layton occupying his left. Lucius stared at Dirk Curd, barely standing upright and Zofia, her red hair caught at the nappe, a couple of buttons opened at her top and wearing warm leather pants with hard sole boots. No coat on, the stares of some women of the city’s most prominent members also present at the back casting daggers on her.
There will be work to be done there, Lucius mused glad it wasn’t on him to do it. He pushed himself up from the roomy throne and climbed down a couple of stairs to reach the stone floor. Lucius took a deep breath in and then addressed the small crowd of what was left of Krakenhall’s elite and his own people present.
“A hundred days ago, give or take a couple,” Lucius started, not everyone present finding humor to his words. “We’ve embarked on a journey to right wrongs and put an end to the war. Some things we’ve succeeded in correcting, others need some more work done. We did win the war though and ended Vanzon’s stranglehold on this city. He’s no more and Krakenhall is now a free city to trade with anyone and everyone. Both in the North and in the South. It’s free to prosper and grow. I understand much of the population is half-Issirs and half-Nords, but fear not. This isn’t the Jarl’s domain either. Jarl David doesn’t rule here. Krakenhall is under my protection and it’s bound unto me personally by the ancient right of conquest,” Lucius paused to watch the people’s faces, caught a few unsure looks, but he’d replaced everyone of any meaningful power with people he trusted already, so it didn’t allow the matter to deter him.
He was as usual on a very tight schedule. There were important matters needing his attention both in the North and in the South.
“Krakenhall along with Krakenfort shall be known henceforth as a Duchy. The end of the Vanzon rule also means there must be a new ruler sitting on this very throne. Someone to guarantee another war with the North won’t happen. Trust me you don’t want the Legion marching in here again. You should all rally behind this new ruler, it is in your best interests. Rebuild and grow. This is a chance as much as it was a calamity. My Legion has broken your shackles, but don’t mistake autonomy with lawlessness or treachery. Your freedom isn’t free. It has a name and a man behind it. It comes with a permanent alliance, both in ink and as an oath unto me. Help me, help yourselves, help your Duchess,” Lucius finished and turned to a thoroughly surprised Zofia.
“Zofia O’ Dargan come forth,” he ordered her solemnly.
Zofia approached him under the loud murmurs of those present, but for Lucius’ very close inner circle. “Kneel Zofia,” Lucius ordered her. She frowned and glanced at those behind Lucius, but couldn’t decipher their expressions, other than Faye’s slight smirk and Layton’s amused and thoroughly confused blank stare.
So Zofia O’ Dargan knelt before him and Lucius placed his right hand on her left shoulder, felt her trembling underneath. Lucius had caught her by surprise, much as almost everyone else.
“Will you swear an oath to honor this alliance?’ Lucius asked her and Zofia who very rarely lost her words for anyone, took her time to reply.
“I shall,” she croaked.
“On to your sacred ancestors’ bones and your mother’s blood,” Lucius started. “The sky above and the earth beneath our feet. On Uher the Godsfather’s Holy Light and on Tyeus’ blood-soaked fields. On Naossis’ pleasure not to be denied and Oras’ black heart to guide your soul true. On Luthos’ favor never to waver from your side. You’ll swear to uphold your promise unto me, Legatus Sir Lucius of Alden, third of my name and my heritors. To never waver from this alliance, until you breathed your last?”
“I swear,” Zofia said, this time more sternly, having regained her composure. The hall silent and everyone holding their breath.
“Arise then, Zofia O’ Dargan, first of your name, Duchess of Krakenhall and Krakenfort of the Iron Plateau, ruler of Kraken’s Gulf, of the Icebreak Coast, from Eodrass Watch to the Arid Peaks and Lucius’ Warden of the North.”
There’re a lot stories circulating today about the Duchess of Krakenhall. Her rule unbroken almost two decades after she’d ascended to her throne. Ten after she’d grabbed Rockfort from her brother and five after she birthed her third child without ever getting married. Two of them were as black as coal with white Issir hair and one a pale grey, his hair the color of blooded gold. The answer as to why Lucius picked her varying, with some even evoking the Legatus fondness of Northern women having married two of them or even more lewd suggestions. Every gossip not giving justice to a man that had never made a move without thinking it through first.
Everyone forgetting what the options were there at the time for the Legatus. They were much fewer than one could imagine. With the death of Lord Vanzon, Lucius couldn’t end the war another way, nor could he sit on Krakenhall’s throne himself. Lucius didn’t belong in the North and he was already living there for almost two years. It would take him a bit more to break out of the ice, but before doing that Lucius gave the heavily invested in another war High King an out. Zofia had taken the throne and broken up with her Jarl father for a very obvious and well known reason, was the official word on the eve of the Duchy’s creation. Most of it the absolute truth.
Duchess of Krakenhall, Zofia O’ Dargan had ascended her throne on her twentieth named year. As then Centurion Mamercus Sorex described her in a letter a year later, addressed to Secundus Sorex his brother.
‘As darn fine a lass as ye’ll ever lay yer eyes upon, but alas as hard to palate as a bucket of rusted iron nails.’
Lord Sirio Veturius
The Fall of Heroes
Chapter II
(Legatus Lucius Alden,
Northern campaigns,
Second Year
The Tiger’s Decision,
Prelude to the 2nd battle of the Montfoot,
A mad dash to Kas,
Duke Redmond’s folly & Lesia’s Ultimatum)
Late Spring of 190- Summer of 191 NC
Grimdux
I. This is the direct sequel to Touch O' Luck
Touch O' Luck
II) It serves as a prologue to the Old Realms series.
It will be a superior reading experience
to start this story from the beginning
Please give it a good rating if you liked it, it will help the story reach a much bigger audience:)
Chapter specific maps of the realms
Maps of the Realms
Character portraits
On to your sacred ancestors’ bones and your mother’s blood
The sky above and the earth beneath our feet.
On Uher the Godsfather’s Holy Light and on Tyeus’ blood-soaked fields.
On Naossis pleasure not to be denied and Oras black heart to guide your soul true.
On Luthos favor never to waver from your side.
The Duchess Oath
Circa 190 NC
Legatus Lucius Alden
A Hundred Days
Part X
-The Duchess of Krakenhall-
The young heir run up the stairs, the leather tube containing the fated missive inside tightly closed, although almost everyone handling the birds had read it. He paused before the stern faced guards on the open doors leading to the rebuild throne room, the gray squid engraved on their polished plate armour drawing those blue and green eyes, but the guards quickly ushered him inside as he was expected.
His mother stood on her stone throne, the back high and the tentacles sprouting like a halo above her leaving no doubt as to what the sculpted creature was. The Duchess had her red hair gathered back in a loose ponytail and wore her leather pants instead of formal dress, her shirt made out of hard leather armor and quality chainmail. He stopped and looked apprehensively at the horrifically scarred face of the much older man standing tall next to the throne, clad in breastplate and a double-headed axe on his back.
The young heir gulped down nervously and the man’s lips split showing him his teeth in a menacing leer. The Duchess stopping their exchange with an impatient wave of her hand.
“Speak boy,” she ordered harshly and he stood back stunned not expecting the emotion in her voice. “Are the rumors true?”
The boy nodded and his mother hanged her head, fists clenched tight and wept in dignified silence. The latter the most shocking event, as his mother hadn’t shed a tear neither for her own father, nor his baby brother that had died of fever last summer.
By the end of that day the whole Duchy was in mourning.
Lucius Legion* (Later 3rd Legion)
Total x3840 (combined- minus Supply Train and Officers)
(3200 Legionnaires, 200 Slingers, 200 Cavalry, 100 Scouts, 100 Engineers, 40 Medics)
Officers (In order of rank)
1x Legatus Legionis
1x Tribune (added after 192 NC)
1x Camp Prefect
16 Centurions
1x Leader of Horse (Centurion equivalent) – (Optio added after 193 NC)
1x Centurion of Scouts
1x Centurion of Slingers
1x Centurion of Engineers (added after 192 NC)
1x Chief Dottore (Centurion equivalent)
18 Optio (No Optio of Slingers)
2x Decurion of Cavalry
19 Decanus
(Not officers, equivalent pay to Centurions)
1x Panthera Tigris** Signifer
4x Cohort Signifers
1x Legion Cornicen (Horn blower)
1st Cohort
1st Century x500 Legionnaires
2nd Century x180 Legionnaires
3rd Century x180 Legionnaires
4rth Century x180 Legionnaires
Total x1040 legionnaires
2nd Cohort
1st Century x180 Legionnaires
2nd Century x180 Legionnaires
3rd Century x180 Legionnaires
4rth Century x180 Legionnaires
Total x720 Legionnaires
3rd Cohort
1st Century x180 Legionnaires
2nd Century x180 Legionnaires
3rd Century x180 Legionnaires
4rth Century x180 Legionnaires
Total x720 Legionnaires
4rth Cohort
1st Century x180 Legionnaires
2nd Century x180 Legionnaires
3rd Century x180 Legionnaires
4rth Century x180 Legionnaires
Total x720 Legionnaires
Legion Slingers x200
Legion Scouts x100
Legion Cavalry x200
Legion Engineers x100 (60 engineers, 20 carpenters, 10 smiths, 10 Scorpios Sergeants)
Legion Hospital (10 Dottore/Physicians/Surgeons, 30 medical staff)
*The Legatus preliminary charts and plans were first put on paper probably as early as the summer of 190 NC, finalized later that year and took their final form before 193 NC. Everyone though had started calling Lucius’ army after the ‘Hundred Days’ campaign with the more palatable Lucius Legion.
**It must be noted here Lucius’ Legion Panthera Tigris differed from the First Legion’s Alden Tigris and of course the white boar, or Aper Albineus of Lesia’s Second.
Galio saw him walking down the narrow corridor of the keep’s hall through its open doors, pale faced and with fresh stiches hurting over his brow, his left eye bloodshot and turned to the locals gathered there.
“Legatus Legionis, Sir Lucius Alden!” He boomed and the ten soldiers present came to attention eyeing the similar number of civilians under the rims of their helms menacingly. Lucius entered the small hall and went to sit on the empty small throne in the middle of it. His armour clanging on the rough hardwood narrow seat when he sat down.
Lucius looked at the uneasy Issirs, three out of the eight being of mixed-blood. Half-Issirs Half-Nords. The Jarl’s bigotry had provided Vanzon with a steady stream of new residents, as it wasn’t easy to keep regular Issirs emigrating to the North even with the naval yards of Krakenhall providing ‘easy’ work. The latter’s presence there having to do more with the significant amount of iron present in the area and less with the High King valuing the city port that much. The Fleet had as large a naval base in Caspo O’ Bor and Vanzon’s port was only open for half the year anyway.
Between Krakenfort and Krakenhall now, the larger Krakenhall had the advantage of being ‘closer’ to Kaltha be it by sea, or land, but Krakenfort had the bigger iron deposits and guarded the road to Rockfort and Fetya.
Eh, Lucius thought leaving the matter aside for now, at least I get to sit down for a while since morning, without a dottore sticking needles in my head.
“Who is in charge?” He asked the Krakenfort’s officials, tired hoarse voice reverberating inside the elongated narrow hall. The candles burning making the atmosphere inside stone hall suffocating.
A slim Issir man, white hair cut short and trimmed beard, stepped forward under Galio’s glare. He cleared his throat a couple of times and then bowed his head courtly.
“Lord Alden, I’m Ko Nobbe, part-owner of the iron mines,” he announced.
“Who has the other part?”
“That would be Lord Kroneberg sire,” Nobbe replied losing some of his confidence. Lucius stared at Galio and the Prefect checked the scroll Trupo had given him earlier. The Centurion had stayed in the field to sort out the casualties and have a final report for them later in the evening or on the morrow. Lucius just didn’t have enough time to take care of everything and he trusted the people under him to do the job they had been tasked with.
“He’s dead Legatus,” Galio informed him.
Lots of that as well, Lucius thought with a scowl.
“Then his half reverts to the state, sire,” Ko Nobbe informed him.
“Go on,” He told the local iron magnate.
“Baron Gert Huevel’s family runs the Castle and has a small share as well,” Nobbe replied looking about him nervously. Lucius glanced at Galio and the Prefect shook his head right and left.
“The Baron is dead as well mister Nobbe. Does he have any heirs?”
“His son was killed two years ago sire,” the man explained. “His wife alas, gave him a daughter after the boy. Nothing since.”
I see.
“How was he killed?”
“Jarl’s dastardly raid at Ludriver sire,” the man replied. “He was serving there as second in command.”
Lucius had heard at least two versions of this story.
“His daughter and wife shall be provided for,” he announced. “His share of the mines the army will accept as reparation.”
A loud murmur came from the men present.
“SILENCE!” Galio boomed, putting an end to that.
“Who is in charge here mister Nobbe?” Lucius asked him again and the man took a step back, white as snow.
“You sire,” he replied.
“Why?” Lucius asked him patiently.
“You’ve won the battle sire,” the man replied. “It’s within your rights.”
“A man of my choosing shall take up the Baron’s position,” Lucius announced and got up. The throne was hurting his back. “There will be a local assigned to run your affairs under him. There will be no reprisals, but I don’t enjoy insubordination or troublemakers. You can go on with your lives under the new management.”
“May I suggest Mart Buuren Lord Alden,” Nobbe said nervously. “He has traveled extensively and would be an asset to help with the transition.”
“I shall consider it,” Lucius told him and the Issir bowed his head pleased.
“Optio Nonus Sula,” Galio proposed immediately. “He should lead the First Century milord.”
“Fine, you take care of it Prefect,” Lucius agreed half an hour later. They were still in Krakenfort’s hall. “But prepare the men to march in two days.”
“What about the wounded?”
“The Second Century will stay behind, help with the transition and tend to the wounded,” Lucius told him. “I will need an officer to run it after that. I need Centurion Tutor for something else.”
“His Optio Titus Macrinus is a good choice,” Galio replied readily. The Prefect’s knowledge of the men under him outstanding. “A good trainer. Not good for a social visit.”
Lucius nodded.
“I’ll need four picks for new Centurions as well, other than Sula,” he started, but paused seeing Galio getting a small scroll out of his waistband. Made to offer it to Lucius after checking it quickly, but he frowned looking at the poor handwriting and proceeded to read the names instead.
“Cassius Falx, First Century. Placus Lepidus, Fourth Century. Those are from the First Cohort. Lepidus is an excellent officer. Julius Scrofa and Jorgen Osmont, both from the Second Cohort, First Century. Sabinus’ lads,” he added looking at Lucius expectantly.
“They will do,” Lucius agreed, trusting his judgement. The Prefect had been with him since the start of this adventure. Never wavered once, after Lucius first met him at the gates of Alden helping the local guard. “Thank you Galio.”
“Ah, yer welcomed milord. Just doing my job,” Galio replied and tossed the scroll into the fireplace. “May I inquire as to the need for four new Centurions?”
“I intend to leave the Second behind as I mentioned, while we march towards Krakenhall,” Lucius explained touching the bloody scar over his brow with a finger. “That doesn’t mean Macrinus and Tutor will be idle.”
Lucius wanted those recruits turned into another Cohort as soon as possible. You needed three to declare the outfit a Lorian Legion. While the Lorian Legion Centuries were massive in size at one thousand Legionnaires per for the First Cohort and six hundred for the other two, Lucius had seen in the smaller in scale battles of the North, the necessity for smaller units. Perhaps two hundred per spread in four Centuries such as we have done so far, he thought. Nah, a hundred and eighty. Four centuries per Cohort, the final number seven hundred and twenty, but for the First Cohort. Four Cohorts and not three. Have one kept in reserve at all times. His Legion’s total number three thousand two hundred. Maybe give Galio one big Century. Make it five hundred men. Something close to it and that’s it.
“You will give Tutor command of Krakenfort milord?” Galio asked.
“We can’t exactly leave one of the locals in charge on our backs Prefect,” Lucius explained and ended their meeting.
Trupo saluted and Lucius returned it, the light of torches not enough to keep the camp well lit. Most of the army had returned to their camp, but for the Second that had found lodgings inside Vanzon’s empty camp and Krakenfort. Lucius who hadn’t rest a minute since the previous day rode into the camp and headed straight for Zofia’s tent. He glared at the mix-breeds guarding the entrance and they stepped aside.
Zofia’s smile took him by surprise. She was playing with the baby under the watchful eye of Dirk Curd. The man had a heavily bandaged right leg, a sling on his left hand and a swollen face as he’d been trampled by a horse.
Or trying to stop one from getting away with his body.
“Lucius,” Zofia said seeing him. “There’s our hero,” she teased sounding a little tipsy.
“What in Oras hell happened back there?” Lucius rustled not in the mood for celebration after he’d seen people thrown into the funeral pyre not even two hours earlier. Men and women that he liked and had supported him through the whole ordeal.
Zofia frowned. “You won Lucius. Vanzon is dead.”
Lucius breathed once slowly and glared at a quiet Curd. The man looked half-dead and twice as tired as the Legatus.
“What the hell where you doing out there?” He asked him and Curd crooked the part of his face he could still move.
“Saw an opening,” he said, voice gravely. “Did what I had to do.”
“You chopped his head off!” Lucius blasted him. “Hurled it at the feet of his men! The whole army saw it Curd, are you serious?”
“Incentive, milord,” Curd replied and sat back on the stool he had. It was too small for his frame. “Made ‘em less eager to keep on fighting.”
Lucius closed his eyes trying to regain his composure.
“You left Kaeso alone in the flank,” he told him restrained.
“Kaeso had a hole in him, looked more dead than alive,” Curd explained. “So I didn’t think about asking for his opinion. When I left the flank was secure.”
“Running through the field to attack Vanzon,” Lucius said grinding his teeth. “Pulled Galio’s whole right flank along with you… What?” He snapped seeing him not agreeing.
“Zofia’s men,” Curd argued. “And mix-breeds. You said men can go wherever they want Lord Alden. Vanzon wanted me dead. He stood in my way. It was either him or me.”
“No, Curd, it wasn’t. That’s a wrapped way of thinking,” Lucius grunted, a vein throbbing under his wound. “Vanzon had lost the battle. I wanted him to surrender to me, so we can agree on a proper truce. He was a Lord for crying out loud! I didn’t want him butchered and kicked about in the field!” He threw his arms up and the baby started crying waking up. “Bah!” Lucius gasped frustrated, feeling guilty for scaring the child.
“What do you think Vanzon would’ve done?” Zofia asked him, while rocking the baby in her hands. She was looking much better now, the climate agreeing with her or perhaps it was the ale, Lucius thought. Zofia was always more lively when she had her cups.
Lucius licked his dry lips. “What do you mean?”
“If you lost. If we have lost here,” Zofia said, looking at him. Dirk grimaced and stared at his muddy boots. “What would Lord Vanzon have done to you Lucius? Or to me? My baby,” her eyes narrowed. “Yours.”
Lucius stared at her. “This is no bloody way to conduct a war,” he said, but deep down Lucius knew she was right. It was doubtful Vanzon would have spared him or Faye. Lord Crull had tried to have him killed the day after he’d met him. As he’d said to Roderick more than a year back, these Lords were behaving like criminals. “I can’t condone this,” he repeated the same words.
“But they can, milord,” Curd said. “That’s how it is.”
“I shall not fight like an uncultured beast, Curd,” Lucius said. “You’ve disobeyed orders again.”
“No he didn’t,” Zofia intervened and Lucius glared at her frustrated.
“He was to stay at the flank and protect Galio’s center! People were dying to keep the whole thing from falling apart!” He growled, but Zofia wasn’t intimidated, she gave the shocked into silence baby to an unsure Curd, the man handling it gingerly like it was made out of paper and walked up to him. Lucius had seen that scowl before.
“I told Dirk to kill Vanzon in the first chance he got. Not to come back if he didn’t,” she said surprisingly calm and glanced at the silent mix-breed. “It was too good an opportunity to pass up.”
“This is not your campaign Zofia,” Lucius said tiredly.
“They tried to have me tortured and killed in Riverdor. They cut my brother’s head off!” Zofia hissed and added without an ounce of pity in her voice. “The only I thing I regret, is not having his stupid fat head here, so I can kick it around myself! I have people looking for it though, so we’ll see about that.”
Ah, Lucius thought and shook his head in despair. You were never subtle woman.
“I will say this once,” he started looking at both of them. “It will be the final time I’m dealing with trouble coming from you two. I understand revenge, but it won’t happen under my watch. Zofia, you are not in charge here. You’ll never be in charge of anything, unless people can trust you not to blow everything up. You don’t have your father’s favor anymore. Curd is wanted in half the North and probably all of Kaltha now and your only ally has had enough. If you’re with me, you do as I say.”
Zofia took a step back and sighed.
“What happens if you decide this is over?” She asked him. “What happens to me?”
“Butchering your father’s enemies won’t endear him to your baby Zofia, neither will it make him accept Curd into the family. The way I see it, he wants you married with Steele and with everything that happened before that wiped out.”
“That won’t happen,” Zofia said. “I’ll fight him if I have to.”
Fantastic, let us win this war first and then kill each other in the bloody celebration!
“How about we work on something else?” Lucius told her. “Since sending Curd with a couple of hundred men to kill the Jarl isn’t much of a plan right?”
Zofia scrunched her face troubled.
“What plan?” She asked resigned.
“Let me worry about that,” Lucius assured her.
Lucius marched out of Krakenfort leaving Gladius Tutor behind as governor, along with newly promoted in the late Sabinus place, Centurion Nonus Sula’s Second Century of the First Cohort and a good number of injured soldiers. Governor Tutor assigned a local merchant named Mart Buuren as Deputy Governor and the rich iron magnate Ko Nobbe as his advisor, effectively bringing Krakenfort under Lucius control.
The small Castle city was to grow in the later years turning into a safe haven for entrepreneurs, as despite the inhospitable weather, its independent status, the rich mine contracts that brought wealth to its citizens, the abundance of high quality wood and the new roads built bringing two faraway parts of the North closer, made it an opportune destination.
As was being near a man very close to the Legatus.
The first bird to arrive from Krakenfort to Maza Burg wasn’t to appear for another month, as Lucius after setting up communications, advised Tutor to keep the word of their success a secret until after he’d secured Krakenhall.
The still not formed Legion got in a bit of trouble crossing Direwolf’s Road, the long but narrow strip of land between Umlen and Retford rivers, when a pack of fifty huge predators got out of the woods (Trupo described it as a huge hole in the ground) and attacked their mules. The affair turned into a half day proper battle, eleven civilians getting killed or eaten according to another source and several animals sharing the same fate. ‘Hulking’ Layton who performed exceptionally well during the scrap, declared the pelts gathered ‘an excellent haul’ for ‘such a small den’. Not everyone present shared his enthusiasm.
On the ninety ninth day of his campaign Lucius Alden reached the gates of Krakenhall. Reggy De Vent, the Mayor of the city came out of the gates to meet with the Legatus entourage, bringing with him Captain Kevin Vros commander of the local city’s guard. Captain Vros seeing the Legion armoured columns standing behind the famed Legatus and knowing he’d neither the men, nor the will to put up any kind of fight, since Krakenhall had been stripped from men, first from the High King and then by losing good troops for almost two years straight, advised the under severe pressure Mayor to offer terms. A letter that had arrived from Issir’s Eagle had ordered the Mayor to not allow its capture. Another letter that had arrived from Midlanor had advised him to avoid battle and stall for as long as he could.
It must be noted here that both missives were for the late Lord Vanzon, opened by De Vent as Krakenhall had run out of officials.
Mayor De Vent did offer vague terms opting to stall, Lucius didn’t agree and ordered Galio to prepare the men for a siege. Captain Kevin Vros, a mix-breed intervened and arrested the Mayor the moment they returned to the city. Lucius had given them a one day ultimatum, but early the next morning the gates opened and Port Master Jerome Otter, serving as an acting Mayor after De Vent had gotten his head chopped off swiftly the previous night, surrendered the city to a stunned Lucius. His first action when he entered Lord Vanzon’s hall, was to order Kevin Vros arrested and executed in turn.
It is to be noted that there were no ships present at Krakenhall at the time Lucius arrived there. The city stood half empty. Most of the prominent purebred Issirs had evacuated the city in panic the moment the weather opened up and news of Rockfort’s conundrum reached them. The Krakenhall refugee flotilla arrived at Sallowhall later that month losing two transports in the brief journey through the sinister icebergs of the Northern Sea. Some prominent lords got lost in the disaster, for a total of seven hundred civilians drown. Opened seas that early in the year was as it turned out, a euphemism.
In the end Lord Vanzon had been left to fight the war by himself, with few prominent Issirs and the majority of Krakenhall’s large mix-breed population remaining in the city for the most part. The latter because they had nowhere else to run to. Not all lords in Kaltha favored them as much as the late Lord Vanzon.
Midlanor while it had vested interest in the important city’s affairs was heavily preoccupied elsewhere. It did respond in a sense, albeit not as the late Lord would have preferred to.
Never had Lucius seen a gloomier hall than the one he’d found himself into. Lord Vanzon’s city was a mixture of the sturdy stone buildings favored by the Issirs and the typical wood longhouses of the North. A narrow street city, full of inclines and worn out cobblestone. The mouth of the port while big was still not safe to venture out of and the port itself perhaps the coldest part of the city.
Jerome Otter, a fat large cheeked Issir with a prominent nose and small eyes for the face, stared at him miserably expecting the worst. Seeing two of his close friends in the city council turn on each other and dying some hours apart had rattled the man to his core.
“As the new ruler of the city,” Lucius started and paused fearing Otter would collapse on the hard stone floor and break his head. The man didn’t, Galio signing for Trupo to flank him closer just in case and Lucius continued. “I promise I shall allow no reprisals to the locals. This is a professional army and we are not savages, Mister Otter.”
“Of course Lord Alden, absolutely,” Otter replied nervously, sweating despite the chilly air of the dark hall.
“I will have order restored and the city shall continue under a new ruler. This will be an independent city and it will form along with Krakenfort a new Duchy,” he paused to gather himself. “By the ancient right of conquest it is in my right to name the new Duke.”
Otter cleared his throat.
“Yes, Mister Otter?”
“Are we to be part of Regia Lord Alden?” He asked timidly.
“What does independent mean my friend?” Lucius asked patiently.
“Unattached?” He chanced.
“Prefect Veturius?” Lucius asked channeling his father.
“Milord I can’t think of a better term,” a frowned Galio replied, Trupo grimacing next to him, blond mustache dancing on his upper lip, in an attempt to keep the smile off of his face.
“Well then,” Lucius said sitting back on the large throne Lord Vanzon had installed. A very comfortable seat, but perhaps too roomy for Lucius. “Since we’re absent of another meaning, let us call it that, right Mister Otter?”
“Why… absolutely, Lord Alden,” Otter loved that word.
“Of course the new Duke will be under my protection,” Lucius Alden added lessening the independent status, much as rulers do this world over. “And you’ll remain as Mayor and Port Master. I don’t expect you to build any ships soon. You can do both jobs, do I have it correct Mister Otter?”
Otter’s relieved reply not surprising anyone inside the hall.
“Absolutely, Lord Alden.”
Three hours later Lucius was inspecting the city guard, now under the supervision of former Decanus of the Fourth Century Josh O’ Leary, a Nord from Ludr that had joined back in Maza Burg. The Guard was three hundred men strong, but not particularly well-trained, other than policing duty.
“What does the men need Captain?” Lucius asked and the tall wiry Northman, hair cut extremely short making his large ears pop out of his head, replied readily.
“Training milord.”
“Quite right,” Lucius replied. “Also numbers. There are people sitting about, workers idle in the naval yard. How about you make this lot into a decent army Captain? It might take time, but it is a job.”
“The mix-breeds milord? They were used as auxiliary units from Lord Vanzon,” he paused seeing Lucius expression. “But they can do the job, I reckon.”
“It’s a big city, granted a bit empty now, but people will return. If they don’t, new people might take their place just the same. Men can go wherever they want,” Lucius told him. “The Duchy needs an army of its own Captain. The Legion can’t stay here forever.”
“I will make the effort to recruit immediately milord.”
“Thank you Captain,” Lucius smacked his lips and eyed him. “Sam O’ Dargan had recommended you back in Maza right?”
“Aye, milord. I was familiar with the Legion tactics,” the man replied.
“Had family employed as scouts?” Lucius chanced.
“My father fought against it milord,” O’ Leary replied. “And yer father.”
Of course.
“The Jarl isn’t in charge here Captain.”
“I know milord.”
“A number of your friends stayed at the blocking force we left at Rockfort,” Lucius continued wanting to get to the bottom of this. “Men from Ludr is my meaning. You didn’t. I don’t expect to see them again. Am I wrong?”
Josh glanced at him, the men of the city guard frozen in attention not daring to move, as their conversation was dragging. They were standing in front of them in the square dominated by the dark grey mass of the Admiralty building. Most of its cadets and marines either with the fleet, or dead, used as fodder by Lord Vanzon in the war.
“Ah, those who chose to stay back, won’t return to you milord. That’s as far as they’ll go.”
“You didn’t. Why?”
“Mad Wolf asked for those that wanted to follow his sister milord. Not everyone from Ludr wanted to follow after her though. Most men don’t want to fight the Jarl down the line.”
“There will be no fight with the Jarl down the line Captain,” Lucius told him a little frustrated as he feared the possibility. “Why exile yourself O’ Leary? Zofia might not return to Ludr.”
“She’s Zofia O’ Dargan Milord,” the man replied. “The name matters in the North. The blood matters. My family is connected to her through the Jarl’s wife Mary.”
“I didn’t know that,” Lucius admitted. “Was Lady Mary behind Sam’s willingness to help his sister?”
“I wouldn’t know sire,” O’ Leary replied earnestly. “But she was behind mine and most of the lads Sam gave her. Some would say, he didn’t have much of a choice in the matter. We were going to follow her either way.”
As had the men Faye had with her, even the mute Logan ‘Gray’ Barret. Bound to her by old debts, oaths and blood.
Either spilt or shared.
Lucius nodded remembering a younger Zofia’s words early on in their journey, while they were still in Regia. Beyond those mountains, your world ends Lucius, Zofia had told him.
“Get Krakenhall the men it needs Captain,” Lucius had told him. “You may have to honor your oath in the future.”
The relief on the men’s faces the moment they ended their long conversation evident.
Lucius eyed the men and women present in late Lord Vanzon’s hall. More candles had been installed, the huge fireplace burning bright helping in that department. It was the biggest Lucius had ever seen, by no means the fanciest, but still its size gave you pause.
Prefect Veturius was present, Primus Pilus Centurion Trupo, Captain of Krakenhall’s City Guard Josh O’ Leary clad in his new metal armour sporting a large squid on his chest. Mayor Joseph Otter and the ever silently scowling Logan ‘Gray’ Barret standing protectively next to a heavy Faye on his right, the latter looking tired and still grieving the loss of her childhood friend Alana, the hulking presence of Layton occupying his left. Lucius stared at Dirk Curd, barely standing upright and Zofia, her red hair caught at the nappe, a couple of buttons opened at her top and wearing warm leather pants with hard sole boots. No coat on, the stares of some women of the city’s most prominent members also present at the back casting daggers on her.
There will be work to be done there, Lucius mused glad it wasn’t on him to do it. He pushed himself up from the roomy throne and climbed down a couple of stairs to reach the stone floor. Lucius took a deep breath in and then addressed the small crowd of what was left of Krakenhall’s elite and his own people present.
“A hundred days ago, give or take a couple,” Lucius started, not everyone present finding humor to his words. “We’ve embarked on a journey to right wrongs and put an end to the war. Some things we’ve succeeded in correcting, others need some more work done. We did win the war though and ended Vanzon’s stranglehold on this city. He’s no more and Krakenhall is now a free city to trade with anyone and everyone. Both in the North and in the South. It’s free to prosper and grow. I understand much of the population is half-Issirs and half-Nords, but fear not. This isn’t the Jarl’s domain either. Jarl David doesn’t rule here. Krakenhall is under my protection and it’s bound unto me personally by the ancient right of conquest,” Lucius paused to watch the people’s faces, caught a few unsure looks, but he’d replaced everyone of any meaningful power with people he trusted already, so it didn’t allow the matter to deter him.
He was as usual on a very tight schedule. There were important matters needing his attention both in the North and in the South.
“Krakenhall along with Krakenfort shall be known henceforth as a Duchy. The end of the Vanzon rule also means there must be a new ruler sitting on this very throne. Someone to guarantee another war with the North won’t happen. Trust me you don’t want the Legion marching in here again. You should all rally behind this new ruler, it is in your best interests. Rebuild and grow. This is a chance as much as it was a calamity. My Legion has broken your shackles, but don’t mistake autonomy with lawlessness or treachery. Your freedom isn’t free. It has a name and a man behind it. It comes with a permanent alliance, both in ink and as an oath unto me. Help me, help yourselves, help your Duchess,” Lucius finished and turned to a thoroughly surprised Zofia.
“Zofia O’ Dargan come forth,” he ordered her solemnly.
Zofia approached him under the loud murmurs of those present, but for Lucius’ very close inner circle. “Kneel Zofia,” Lucius ordered her. She frowned and glanced at those behind Lucius, but couldn’t decipher their expressions, other than Faye’s slight smirk and Layton’s amused and thoroughly confused blank stare.
So Zofia O’ Dargan knelt before him and Lucius placed his right hand on her left shoulder, felt her trembling underneath. Lucius had caught her by surprise, much as almost everyone else.
“Will you swear an oath to honor this alliance?’ Lucius asked her and Zofia who very rarely lost her words for anyone, took her time to reply.
“I shall,” she croaked.
“On to your sacred ancestors’ bones and your mother’s blood,” Lucius started. “The sky above and the earth beneath our feet. On Uher the Godsfather’s Holy Light and on Tyeus’ blood-soaked fields. On Naossis’ pleasure not to be denied and Oras’ black heart to guide your soul true. On Luthos’ favor never to waver from your side. You’ll swear to uphold your promise unto me, Legatus Sir Lucius of Alden, third of my name and my heritors. To never waver from this alliance, until you breathed your last?”
“I swear,” Zofia said, this time more sternly, having regained her composure. The hall silent and everyone holding their breath.
“Arise then, Zofia O’ Dargan, first of your name, Duchess of Krakenhall and Krakenfort of the Iron Plateau, ruler of Kraken’s Gulf, of the Icebreak Coast, from Eodrass Watch to the Arid Peaks and Lucius’ Warden of the North.”
There’re a lot stories circulating today about the Duchess of Krakenhall. Her rule unbroken almost two decades after she’d ascended to her throne. Ten after she’d grabbed Rockfort from her brother and five after she birthed her third child without ever getting married. Two of them were as black as coal with white Issir hair and one a pale grey, his hair the color of blooded gold. The answer as to why Lucius picked her varying, with some even evoking the Legatus fondness of Northern women having married two of them or even more lewd suggestions. Every gossip not giving justice to a man that had never made a move without thinking it through first.
Everyone forgetting what the options were there at the time for the Legatus. They were much fewer than one could imagine. With the death of Lord Vanzon, Lucius couldn’t end the war another way, nor could he sit on Krakenhall’s throne himself. Lucius didn’t belong in the North and he was already living there for almost two years. It would take him a bit more to break out of the ice, but before doing that Lucius gave the heavily invested in another war High King an out. Zofia had taken the throne and broken up with her Jarl father for a very obvious and well known reason, was the official word on the eve of the Duchy’s creation. Most of it the absolute truth.
Duchess of Krakenhall, Zofia O’ Dargan had ascended her throne on her twentieth named year. As then Centurion Mamercus Sorex described her in a letter a year later, addressed to Secundus Sorex his brother.
‘As darn fine a lass as ye’ll ever lay yer eyes upon, but alas as hard to palate as a bucket of rusted iron nails.’
Lord Sirio Veturius
The Fall of Heroes
Chapter II
(Legatus Lucius Alden,
Northern campaigns,
Second Year
The Tiger’s Decision,
Prelude to the 2nd battle of the Montfoot,
A mad dash to Kas,
Duke Redmond’s folly & Lesia’s Ultimatum)
Late Spring of 190- Summer of 191 NC
