A Soldier's Life

Chapter 41: Discipline

Chapter 41: Discipline

Chapter 41

The lower city baths had a number of regulars and civilians. As I entered, they eyed me in curiosity in my bloody legionnaire armor and clothes. There was only a large communal shower here—no hot soaking tubs. The young boy attendant approached me. “Three copper for a rinse and seven to wash your armor and clothes,” he informed me.

“Do you have any soaking tubs?” I asked looking quickly over the array of naked me showering.

“Sorry, legionnaire. We only have two private tubs, and both are in use. Everyone is here because the water rationing will start soon,” the young boy said.

I nodded and stripped down. I handed him two large coppers, “Please make a double effort on the cleaning. Do you have an oil for the leather?”

“Yes, legionnaire! I will take care of it,” he snatched the coins and bundled my gear and clothes together. I went to reach for one of the scrubbers and used soaps, but the boy said, “Wait! I will get you a new scrubber and block.” The boy moved my things to a back room and returned with an abrasive brush and a new block of hard soap. The brush was not new, just clean. The ones on the communal shelf I had been about to grab had small growths of black mold.

I gratefully took the clean abrasive brush and a new bar of soap. This bar was free of prior users’ hair embedded in it. The next time I used the common baths, I was bringing my own soap. I moved to an open shower. I was taller than most men. The average height of men in the Empire was around 5’7”, and at almost 6’1”, I was tall compared to the men around me. My shoulders were square from my training, and they moved aside as I walked to an open spigot. The soldiers around me were muscled but lean as I stood between the two of them in the cold trickle of water as I began to scrub.

A regular with short black hair to my right asked, “We heard the portal mage was killed. Is it true legionnaire?”

“It is. This blood I am cleaning off of me is from the cleanup. We got about half the infiltrators, but some remain in the city,” I replied without thinking. I realized I should have restrained myself from giving too much information. The Displacement Mage had been under the protection of Legion men, so it was a failure on our part to protect him.

The guard on my other side grunted hoarsely, “They will begin rationing at the next meal, trust me.”

“So soon? I heard the Bartirdians are still a week away. We can still get shipments along the road,” the guard on the other side added.

“Unlikely. The men in the east tower at the Tarder’s Gate say their griffin riders scouts can already be seen,” the gruff guard replied. I knew we expected the army in about three days, but I remained silent and listened to the soldier’s banter.

“The west gate is packed with those with enough sense to flee,” another soldier offered. “We have been searching the wagons and confiscating half their food.”

A guard on the other side questioned, “The general is allowing that?”

“He is paying them a few silver, but he ordered it done. I am more concerned that the entire staff at the Summer’s Flowers has left. Best brothel in the city,” another man griped.

“You mean the only one you can afford!” barked another man who had to dodge a scrub brush. The conversation devolved into what constituted a good brothel. I finished scrubbing. My clothes were not finished, so I went and sat in another room with cold stone benches to air dry.

The young boy who washed my clothes handed me a towel and apologized, “We are no longer burning wood to heat this room and the water. Give me another hour to finish cleaning your clothes and armor.” He rushed away, and I waited. I heard the echo of conversation from the showers but ignored it. When my clothes and gear were brought, I tipped the boy another large copper for his effort.

He had wrung out my clothes, but they were still damp. I made my way to the villa, and the city seemed to accept its inevitable fate. Several civilians were leaving toward the west gate with large packs on their backs. Without the portal mage, resupplying the soldiers was going to be impossible. Konstantin had said when they surrounded the city, they would have set up a magic array that would have prevented the portal stones from working, but I guessed they couldn’t wait.

By the tension and thickening fear in the city, the Bartiradian assassination of the Displacement Mage had done more than just cut us off from the Empire. The city guards at the entrance to the upper city had been doubled. I reached the villa to find a flurry of activity. The company was hauling in casks of water and food from the citadel nearby. I approached and asked, “What is happening?”

Mateo answered, wheeling a cask into the villa, “The Citadel guard is being moved to the upper city by order of the Baron’s Advisor to protect the residences of the nobility from inevitable looting. They abandoned their barracks in the Citadel, and Lirkin told us to grab everything we could before they realized they needed it.” He laughed, wheeling the wine cask inside.

Was this an every person for themselves siege? I did not think we would last too long if it turned out that way. I went to my room to drop my gear and started helping everyone. Our villa was in the orchards and gardens adjacent to the Citadel. The Citadel was the central fortification of the city. It was also the residence of the count who ruled the city and where he housed his royal guards. The last count was dead, and now an interim baron was running the city. It was my understanding that the baron left the city to join the army that was going to rescue the city and wipe out all the Bartiradians sieging it.

It all sounded extremely complicated and may make a great tragic play, but I would have preferred not to live through it. I dropped my gear in my room, stripped my armor, and went to help. The citadel was only a hundred yards from our villa, and I went into a heavy oak door in the fortification. I followed everyone else down into their storage room. It was massive, easily a hundred feet long and forty feet wide.

The stone sheveling was polished, and hundreds of crates, bags, and casks lined the series of shelving. Large glow stones in the ceiling lighted the space. Wylie elbowed me softly, “Come on, Eryk. We need to grab as much before they realize it.” I picked up a sixty-pound sack labeled as flour and walked back to the villa. The line of men carrying and pushing foodstuffs had stopped outside the villa. Castile and the company leaders had returned from the baths and were staring at us.

Delmar spoke for the group, “Just what the in a demon’s asshole do you think you are all doing!” His voice started soft but gradually increased into a scream. We were a bunch of kids with their hands in the cookie jar.

Regis was at the front of the line and spoke, “Lirkin said to grab what we could.” It did not sound very convincing. Castile looked over the line, made eye contact with each person, and then went inside the villa, not saying anything.

A quick conference between Delmar and Adrian, and then Delmar spoke, “Bring it inside. BUT NO MORE TRIPS unless ordered.”

I walked into the kitchen to bring the flour down to the larder. Castile was talking with Lirkin in the corner of the kitchen. I didn’t linger to overhear and went and deposited the flour and then retreated to my room.

I secured the room and tried to study my healing spell form book, but fatigue overtook me, and I fell asleep with the book in my lap. A loud banging on the door woke me, “Eryk, food. Dress for patrol.” The voice belonged to Konstantin. I suited up and met everyone in the large dining room as we did the nightly ritual. The food was a dense bread with a thick stew. The stew was mostly meat with a few purple potatoes.

As we ate, Castile climbed up on the table, surprising all of us as she paced its length, obviously unhappy. I had never seen her angry, so maybe she was angry. After walking two lengths, she spoke, “We are in Jupiter’s shit storm. The heart of it! You know I appreciate the initiative, as stupidity can get everyone killed. The actions today were idiocy beyond compare. The lower city is as tight as a witches’ arse, and the looting will begin tonight. Keeping order is going to be a full-time occupation for the city guards and army. THEN I COME HERE AND FIND MY OWN MEN LOOTING THE CITADEL FOR FOOD!”

Ok, she was definitely angry by her tone, and I was not the only one shocked. She paused in the complete silence and calmed, “Not only did I already secure enough food for us to make it the month, but the citadel guards could have attacked and killed one of you and had just cause!”

She paced the table, “Lirkin, you are relieved of cooking duties. Lysander will take over.” The whole table groaned, and I knew that was because I had often been informed that Lirkin was the only decent cook among our number. He had cooked for a baron’s son before joining the legion.

Castile stopped the groans with a look and continued, “The regulars will be on guard at the sewer entrances. We are not going into the sewers to find the Bartiradians.” No one cheered because there was a feeling there was going to be a ‘but.’ “We will be continuing our night patrol of the upper city, and until the army comes to siege the city, you will each also be patrolling the lower city for five hours during the day.”

She began pacing again and announced, “No one leaves the villa without permission, and no one travels alone in the city starting now. We believe maybe twenty Bartiradians survived the attack on the Displacement Mage. Some were injured, but the signs we found in the sewer indicate they have a healer and powerful air mage amongst them. Those who witnessed the carnage saw what the air mage could do to a body. We believe,” she spun slowly to look everyone in the eye, “they will try to kill the other two Legion mages in the city.” She was referring to herself and Gregor. She continued, “Konstantin believes they are smart and will work to thin our company before attacking me directly.”

She let that sink in before she stepped gracefully off the table onto a chair and then the floor and walked away. Adrian announced patrol groups and their routes through the city. “Eryk, Brutus, Mateo, and Wylie. You have Veritas Street from the main road to the west gate.” My confusion could not be hidden.

I interrupted Adrian, “I do not understand. Who is in charge of our group?”

Adrian smirked and looked me in the eye. His dark brown eyes showed mirth, “You are. When a group is announced, the leader is the first person mentioned. We think you can handle it.”

Damn it. This was because I took charge outside the residence of Displacement Mage after the cleanup. I looked at the three men around me—I guess under my command. Brutus and Wylie had huge grins on. Mateo looked bored. I processed and then ordered, “I want everyone equipped with a short sword, buckler, dagger, and spear. Bring a small canteen of water only.” I pointed at Mateo, knowing he liked to mix a little alcohol in to give his water flavor. “Be back here in fifteen minutes.”

After three weeks in the company, I was already being given responsibility beyond carrying around potions.