T’was the night before Christmas,

He lived all alone,

In a one bedroom house made of plaster and stone.

I had come down the chimney with presents to give,

And to see just who in this home did live.

I looked all about,

A strange sight did I see,

No tinsel, No presents, Not even a tree.

No stockings by mantle,

Just boots filled with sand,

On the wall hung pictures of a far distant land.

With medals and badges,

Awards of all kinds,

A somber thought came to my mind.

For this house was different,

It was dark and dreary,

I found the home of a soldier, once I could see clearly.

The solider lay sleeping,

Silent, Alone,

Curled up on the floor in this one bedroom home.

The Face was so gentle,

The Room in such disorder,

Not how I pictured a United States soldier.

Was this the Hero of whom I’d just read?

Curled up on a poncho, the floor for a bed?

I realized the families that I saw this night,

Owed their lives to these soldiers who were willing to fight.

Soon round the world,

The children would play,

A grownups would celebrate a bright Christmas Day.

They all enjoyed Freedom each month of the year,

Because of the soldiers,

Like the one lying here.

I couldn’t help wonder how many lay alone,

On a cold Christmas eve in a land far from home.

The very thought brought a tear to my eye,

I dropped to my knees and started to cry.

The Soldier awakened and I heard a rough voice,

“Santa, Don’t Cry, This life is my choice,

“I fight for Freedom,

I don’t ask for more,

My life is my God, my Country, my Corps.”

The solider rolled over and drifted to sleep,

I could not control,

I continued to weep.

I kept watch for hours,

So silent and still,

We both shivered the cold night’s chill.

Then the soldier rolled over,

With a voice soft and pure, whispered,

“Carry on Santa, It’s Christmas Day,

All is secure.”

One look at my watch,

And I knew he was right,

Merry Christmas my Friend,

And to all a Good night. 

I found this in a very small newspaper published in a town few have ever heard of with the following added by the editor:

This poem was written by a Marine stationed in Okinawa Japan.  The following is his request; I think it is reasonable….

            “PLEASE…would you do me the favor of sending this to as many people as you can?  Christmas is coming soon and some credit it due.”

To this I add the following request, if my readers think it wise, this Christmas as you gather w/ family and friend, set an empty place at your table to represent all those who are away from their families and friends protecting us.  The news catching wars may be over or winding down, but as of Dec. 2012, official US Dept of Defense documents listed over 172,000 men and women standing guard over us in foreign lands, not counting the troops deployed in Iraq and Afghanistan. [1]   

So this Christmas, please remember these unsung men and women, far from home this Christmas. 

 http://www.vetfriends.com/US-deployments-overseas/

---

[1] http://www.policymic.com/articles/29332/5-under-the-radar-places-american-troops-are-stationed

The Summoning of the Order, pt. 2

[Author’s Note:  Much of the material drawn for this chapter is based on the intellectual property of Atlas Games, in their game Ars Magica, 4^th and 5^th editions.  All such property interests remain with Atlas Games.  They have a lawful claim to a fair share, based on industry standards, of any financial profits that arise from my use of their property with the exact details to be worked out in future licensing negotiations.]

Two hours later the Primi gathered again in a different room.  A large oaken simi-circle table with a chair for each of the houses, marked with their symbol, faced a plain chair.  The chair sat in the middle of a circle of arcane runes carved deeply into the floor.  On each of the four walls of the room were deeply incised arcane runes.  The Primi spoke softly among themselves for a few moments and then in turn began casting spells.  Different sets of runes glowed briefly with each spell.  A few of the spells caused new runes to appear and then fade as the caster completed the spell. 

After casting all the desired spells, the Primi each took their respective seats.  When each was seated Antonius snapped his fingers and a soft bell could be heard just outside the door.  Jonathon opened the door just enough to peek around the door.  “Please show our visitor in Jonathon,” Antonius commanded firmly.  Jonathon’s head disappeared and after a few moments a very tall and slender person entered the room. 

At first glance he appeared to be a finely dressed nobleman.  As he entered the room his shape shimmered and shifted.  He grew to be of unnatural height and far too lithe to be a normal man.  His hair was the color of raw gold.  His eyes were a feline yellow and they narrowed to mere cat-like slits when he realized that his disguise had vanished.  With very slight movements of his head he took in the room, and then he smiled warmly and bowed, “Greetings noble magi.  I am Tuar Tel-Quessir and my people seek your help.”

“Fey indeed.” Varia inhaled sharply as he rose from his bow.

“Not quite but close enough for now dear Merinita.”  His voice was almost an angelic song. 

Antonius nodded and Julius rose from his chair.  “If you would please take the Chair of Truth we can begin master elf,” Julius stated flatly and motioned to the plain chair in the center of the room. 

The elf walked up to the edge of the circle of wards, looked down and examined each of the runes with care.  With a very feline smile he crossed the circle and lounged in the chair. 

In a deep booming voice, Julius began chanting and gesturing a spell as several of the runes encircling the chair began to glow.  The elf’s eyes watched Julius’ every gesture with a mix of curiosity and indifference.  Upon completing his spell Julius sat down and Varia rose.  Her voice also boomed as she gestured, this time casting three small objects that disintegrated into dust as they flew towards the elf.  The elf’s eyes narrowed again to mere slits, tracking the objects as they flew.  Several more runes on the floor beneath the elf started to glow.  When she sat down, Marcus rose.  Likewise, his voice was deep and booming as he gestured and cast three small objects in the direction of the visitor.  The objects likewise disintegrated mid air and several more runes beneath the elf started to glow.  As he sat down, Rafael rose and cast a fourth spell, his voice was deep and booming and he also cast three small objects that disintegrated mid air. 

“Powerful magics of containment I gather and probably something to guarantee I am not lying.  Should I feel honored or is this the normal way you greet guests?”  The elf seemed amused.

“Only when they appear without warning in the middle of one of our sancta sanctorum,” Antonius’ smile had no warmth to it.

“Fair enough I suppose.  I would have thought that as magi you would expect visitors to enter in a grand fashion but I do not know your customs.”  The elf shrugged nonchalantly. 

“It is rare to find one who can appear as you did unless they are sent directly from the King or Queen of the fey.  Since we can detect no sign that you are from either court, we must assume the worst.”  Varia apologized. 

“As I said, your description of me as fey is close enough for now.  I come not from either court but from another,” the elf began.

“Which court?” Seneca interrupted.

The elf’s smile was almost predatory and his shape began to shimmer.  “Do you think I server this….”  His smile vanished and his eyes widened as his shape didn’t change.

“I guess you do not serve that force.” Seneca smirked.

The elf lounged back in his chair and smiled wickedly, “Deception is the essential nature of that force after all.”  Seneca’s smirk vanished as he tensed and reached into a pouch at his waist.  Several of the Primi also reached for pouches on their waist. 

“Instructive, unconstructive.”  Talibah mutted.

“You say that you seek our help and yet you do not seem the supplicant but rather a threat that we should deal with in a very harsh manner.” Drucilla scowled as she pulled out several small crystals from her pouch.

The elf’s smile softened and warmed, “Please forgive me dear Mercere but I do so enjoy teasing and playing games with humans.  I mean no harm but sometimes the jest is too hard to resist.”  He spread his arms, palms upward and bowed at the waist.

Marcus chuckled, “There are some here who deserves such jests.”  Seneca gritted his teeth and Julius frowned.

“Let us stick to business shall we?” Arnbjórn softly growled.

“Yes let us.” Claudia nodded rapidly as the tension in the room eased a bit as crystals and other small items were returned to pouches.

“Please tell us of your court.” Varia cooed softly.

“We have written songs to make Virgil weep, built buildings that would cause your greatest cathedrals to appear as mere peasant’s huts, and crafted art that the greatest of your artists would be hard to begin to replicate but we have no defenses against the dark forces that Tremere so rightly worries about.  We seek knowledge and, if a deal can be struck, allies in combating those forces.”

“Deals with fey often prove to be unwise.” Julia leaned to her right rolling two small metal orbs around each other in her left hand.

“Only if you don’t keep your end of the agreement,” Varia glanced at Julia before turning back to the elf.

“We avoid those forces as much as possible; they are a crafty and dangerous enemy, often promising us what we most deeply crave in trade for some small favor that eventually damns our immortal soul.”  Marcus relaxed deeper into his chair.

“My people have no interest in your souls Tytalus.  We seek a fair trade for your knowledge of these dark forces and most importantly how you have managed to prevent them from taking physical form.  We also seek your skills in battle magic for while ours is quite powerful, we fear that it may not be enough against a new dark enemy that has been foretold.  We know that we must seek the help of your people to face this new enemy.  And so, I have been sent beyond the vale that separates our world from yours to seek knowledge and allies.”

“I think some form of exchange of knowledge would be of benefit if we truly are speaking of the same force.” Rafael leaned back into his chair and stroked his goatee. 

“If we are talking about providing him access to our libraries on the subject we might be able to arrange a book for book trade.  We would have to examine the knowledge you are offering, or at least some sample of it first.”  Antonius agreed.

“Vale.  Enlighten.”  Talibah muttered softly.

“Easier to explain the Engima dear Criamon but I shall try.”  The elf sat strait up in his chair.  “Our magic allows us to see into many different realms.  Each of these worlds is separated by a force of magic that we have learned to pierce.  I do not know if it is akin to your theory of the spheres or if it is something completely different.  All I can say is that there are many realms with many different peoples.  We have charted many of the realms and have learned much from each realm.  Some of that knowledge could be what we share with you.”

“If you have knowledge of many realms as you describe them, why choose our people?” Aoife leaned forward in her chair.

“We have visited many of these realms seeking allies.  None are as promising as your people.  In most realms the peoples have some of the traits we need in a prospective ally but most often they can not survive in our realm for the length of time we need them.  Those that can survive often are either too barbaric or violent, or they are too passive.  Some of them reproduce at such a rate that to allow them to settle in our realm would be to invite disaster whereas some would be even slower than our people at replacing lost warriors in a prolonged war.  When the dark forces come, we will draw upon them but we will need more than a few that can come for one or two battles.  We need an ally that can live permanently in our realm and can grow into force that can fight the war we expect to face.  Your people have the ability to survive and prosper in our realm, as you have in this one.  You also have a curious blend of violence and civilization that we find intriguing.”

“You wish us to be mercenaries for your wars?”  Arnbjórn frowned with an arched eyebrow.

“Not precisely.  We need allies for a very specific war that has been foretold by our greatest seer and to enlist those allies we are willing to give up a lightly populated section of our lands, an area roughly equal to this land your call Europe, from the great ocean to the west to the deepest forests of Novgorod, from Thul to the northern edges of the great southern desert.  All that you do in those lands would be of your concern and of those other groups of humans we are able to recruit.  We only ask that in trade for such vast areas you be willing to share your scholarship and ability to fight when the foretold war does come.”

“What other humans?”  Rafael sat up strait in his chair.

“We are in the process of selecting them.  We will select groups that have the necessary numbers to build a viable nation.  The groups we select will be small at first but with time they will grow and build a nation with a strong military and strong magical defense, with your help.”

“We will have to consider this request carefully.  Our Code forbids us from getting overly involved with mundane peoples.  They can be difficult to predict and demanding of attention.  And when they do not get the attention they seek, they often become destructive to our interests.”  Julius looked over to Antonius.

“I would very much like to see some sample of the knowledge that he proposes sharing in trade for our knowledge about demons as well as have time to discuss with some in my House this idea.”  Claudia adjusted her glasses.

“We also have a Grand Tribunal to attend to and those matters need take precedence over some offer that may or may not be accepted.”  Julia put the two metal balls back into her pouch.

“Let us meet here after the Tribunal to discuss this further.  I would favor news of this offer not reach others as yet.  While it is wise to seek counsel of our peers, I worry that some will urge jumping and looking after the fact.  Others will instinctively reject such a vague offer and then become rather determined to undermine any decision to accept it.”  Antonius looked to each of the other Primi.  Arnbjórn, Talibah, Drucilla, Julia, Julius, and Seneca nodded.   Claudia, Varia, Aoife, Rafael, and Marcus looked glum but also nodded.

“With the permission of all of you, I shall leave this place and return in one week with a couple of books that will serve as a sample of what knowledges we seek to offer in trade for your knowledge of dark forces.”  The elf rose from his chair, took a step forward and bumped into a wall that was not there.  “Huh?” he stumbled backward.

“Forgive us master elf, we need a chance to lower the wards that confine you.”

The elf muttered very softly but returned to his seat.

Antonius nodded to Rafael who began softly chanting and several of the runs on the floor ceased to glow.

“Please only extend your arm and see if the wall is still present.” Antonius instructed as the elf stood up.  The elf extended his arm and his palm stopped at an invisible wall matching the circle of ward.  Antonius nodded to Varia who softly chanted a few words.  Several more runes stopped glowing and the elf’s hand was able to push beyond the circle of wards carved into the floor.

“Some form of test I presume?” the elf arched an eyebrow.

“Naturally,” Antonius stood up and eased his chair back, just enough to step away from the table. 

“Assuming you are not a specialist in deception, as some of us have cause to fear, the last set of wards would have constrained even a very powerful demon or devil.  This is not conclusive mind you but it will ease some concerns.”  Julius followed Antonius’ example as did the other Primi.

“These forces are certainly ones my people fear as well and we hope that we can, at the minimum, learn from you.  With luck, the lands we have to offer will entice you to come and settle far from your current concerns.”  The elf turned and walked towards the door.

“What current concerns do you mean?” Arnbjórn growled.

Looking over his shoulder, “Do you think we would pass through the vale without examining the realm from our side and consider carefully the many things we can see?”

“We will have to discuss what you can see when next we meet in one week visitor.”  Rafael put his hand on Arnbjórn’s chest as the bear-man stepped forward.

“Gladly,” the elf’s faint smile held the promise of answers to questions best not asked. 

The Summoning of the Order

[Author’s Note:  Much of the material drawn for this chapter is based on the intellectual property of Atlas Games, in their game Ars Magica, 4^th and 5^th editions.  The Order of Hermes, the names of the Houses of Hermes, and many other ideas are the intellectual property of Atlas Games.  All such property interests remain with Atlas Games.  They have a lawful claim to a fair share, based on industry standards, of any financial profits that arise from my use of their property with the exact details to be worked out in future licensing negotiations.]

Anno Domini 1228 – Durenmar Covenant

            Hidden deep in the Black Forest, a strong fortress over looks a deep mountain stream.  Here, four hundred and sixty-one years ago, the Order of Hermes was founded.  This secretive society is made up of over a thousand of the most powerful wizards in all of Europe.  Every thirty-three years the leaders of each of the twelve Houses that make up the Order and a delegation from each of the thirteen regional tribunals gather here in a Grand Tribunal to settle disputes between the tribunals, hand down interpretations of the laws that bind the Order together, to share new magical innovations, and to discuss other issues that affect the whole Order.  The day before the Grand Tribunal officially begins the leaders of the twelve Houses, the Primi, gather in a secret chamber to reach a consensus on selected divisive issues so they can present a united front and insure some measure of order in a society made up of very individualistic and often quarrelsome individuals. 

           

            Late in the midmorning before the Grand Tribunal was due to commence, an elderly man leaning on a boy of about ten years made his way to the secret chamber.  As he slowly made his way to his seat, he looked around the room for what he knew to be his last time.  A large circular oaken table dominated the room.  Twelve high backed chairs, almost miniature thrones ringed the table.  Several smaller serving tables with pitchers of wine, and several platters of fine cheeses, meats, and fresh bread were aligned around the room.  On the back of each chair, above where a person’s head would be was carved a symbol of one of the twelve Houses.  He sat in the chair marked with a pair of crossed keys, standing on their bow with their pins in the air, the symbol of House Bonisagus, those who learned their arts from the Founder of the Order and creator of the Hermetic theory of Magic. 

            “Jonathon, please invite the other Primi to join me and then return to your studies,” he dismissed the boy.

            “Yes Master.” The boy bowed and hurried off.

            A few moments later a short Spanish woman with dark hair just starting to grey entered the room.  “Greetings Primus of Bonisagus,” she greeted him formally. 

            “Welcome Primus of Flambeau.  Please be comfortable.”  He returned her formality with a twinkle in his eye as she made her way to the chair marked with a pair of equilateral triangles forming an hour glass, the symbol for House Flambeau, the wizards of destruction.

            “How goes the Reconquestia?” he asked as she pecked him on the cheek before sitting down. 

            “It goes well for the Christian lords Antonius.  Not so well for the Moorish lords.  We have been able to avoid any open conflict with both sides.  Natural when a covenant comes under attack …” she spread her hands helplessly, “but our Jerbiton siblings have been very busy keeping the local lords to busy with each other to pester us too much.  There are some impressive research being done in Granada and I hope to visit the covenant there soon.  It seems that some accord has been reached with the Moorish sorcerers and some information is being shared.  We will have to watch it carefully and I’m thinking about asking Julius to send a couple of quaesitors with me just to make sure that some secrets are not being shared.”

            “If they are sharing…” Antonius raised his finger as a matronly woman entered.  He rose stiffly, “Greetings Primus of Mercere.”

             “Sit down before you hurt your self you old goat,” she snorted and smiled.  Julia chuckled as the woman took the chair marked with a messenger’s cap, the symbol of House Mercere, the messengers that carried news from one covenant to another, enabling the Order to remain vaguely united. 

            “It is good to see you again Drucilla.”  Julia reached out her hand.

            “It is good to see both of you again.  I was half expecting some novice to take Antonius’ seat this time and I am glad to be wrong.”

            “This will be my last Grand Tribunal as Primus of Bonisagus.  While final twilight is not something to look forward too, only the fool makes no plans.  I am considering my successor and I am looking forward to finishing Jonathon’s training and wrapping up a few projects.”  Antonius leaned back into his chair.  Casting a tired eye at Julia, “Please talk with Julius about taking at least one quaesitor and perhaps some hoplites with you.  Any Moorish sorcerer who has learned Parma will have to join the Order or die.  That is our law.”

            Julia nodded as a brown haired man of about thirty entered the room.  “Greetings Primus of Tytalus.”  Antonius sat up strait in his chair.

            “Greetings, Primus of Bonisagus.  Do we have a wizard’s march and no one told me?” He half smiled and fingered his dagger as he took the chair marked with the spiral of House Tytalus, the House of growth through conflict.

            “Not yet Marcus,” Antonius shook his head and then mumbled a few words while looking at one of the pitchers of wine and a goblet.  The pitcher filled the goblet and it floated over to Antonius’ out reached hand. 

            A bald woman with Arabic features and a host of arcane marks tattooed on her head, neck, and face entered the room and took the chair marked with an infinity symbol within a circle within a square; the symbol of House Criamon, the seekers of something they called the Enigma, a concept they could not, or would not, explain to other wizards.  She uttered no greeting and appeared to be deep in thought.

            “Greetings Primus of Criamon,” Antonius raised his goblet in toast.  She looked at him as if seeing a point far beyond the wall behind him. 

            “Hmmm.  Yes.  Greetings Antonius,” she paused and seemed to refocus her attention.  “It is good to be here.”  She seemed to drift back into her thoughts.

            “Talibah, I can not tell if you are being rude or merely lost in your Enigma.”  Marcus smirked.

            “Hmmm.  Yes.  Rude Tytalus.” She pinned him with her gaze as if examining a strange insect for the first time. 

            “Careful Marcus,” Drucilla put her hand on his forearm with a worried look.  He frowned and sat back in his chair.

            A thin scholarly man with a bald palate and long stringy white hair entered next.  “Greetings Primus of Bonisagus, fellow Primi.”  He smiled warmly as he took the seat marked with the scales of justice, the symbol of House Guernicus, the judges and investigators of matters that might violate the Code of Hermes, the oath the bound the Order together.

            “Welcome Julius, Antonius and I were just discussing a matter in Iberia that you and I need to discuss a bit later.”

            “Moorish sorcerers I’ll wager,” he made a couple gestures with his hands and another pitcher filled a goblet and it floated over to his outstretched hand.

            Julia nodded as a tall red haired woman with streaks of grey in her hair entered.  “Greetings Primus of Bonisagus and my fellow Primi,” she intoned with a strong Scottish accent. 

            Greetings Primus of Ex Miscellanea.”  Antonius nodded as she took the seat marked with a staff shaped like a lightening bolt, the symbol of House Ex Miscellanious, the House of those with no other home in the Order. 

            “Greetings Aoife.  How are things in England these days?”  Marcus smiled warmly.

            “Still too cold for your Norman blood I’ll wager but we are at peace save for some of the tribes in the hills of Caledonia and Cambria.”  She smiled sweetly as Marcus winced.  Drucilla and Julia chuckled while Antonius smiled ruefully.

            “You still blame us for William I see.”  Marcus shook his head. 

            “He did upset things a bit but his brats and their children are usually more concerned with France and the Holy Land to be too much of a nuisance.”  Aoife warmed her smile a bit. 

            Marcus started to speak as a young woman in her late twenties entered.  “Greetings Primus of Bonisagus, fellow Primi.  It is good to see most of you.”  Her voice was almost that of a song. 

Julia stiffened and almost rose when Antonius rested his hand on her forearm. “Greetings Primus of Merinita.”  She took the seat next to Aoife, the one marked with a tree in full bloom, the symbol of House Merinita, the explorers of all things Fey. 

“Still using glamour I see Varia.” Julia sniped.

 Varia smiled, her eyes cold as winter as a giant of a man in his late thirties entered the room.  His full beard, long hair, and northern fur dressings make him almost look like a bear on hind legs.  “Greetings Primus of Bonisagus.”  He rumbled as he sat down next to Varia.  His chair was marked with a simple cone, the symbol of House Bjornaer, the house of magi who could assume the form of animal ancestors and sought to understand their animal nature. 

“Greetings Primus Bjornaer.  All goes well in the Baltic areas I hope Arnbjórn.”  Antonius leaned forward a bit.

“The Teutonic crusaders pillage the lands and we have had to deal harshly with some who have threatened our coven folk but let us discuss that a bit later,” he rumbled and looked over at a serving tray.  Several slices of cheeses and meats flew on to a small plate and it floated over to him. 

“Be careful to not to draw the attention of the Church Arnbjórn.” Julius started.

“Let us discuss that later Julius.” Antonius cut him with a raised hand as a stocky man in his late forties entered the room.

“Greetings Primus of Bonisagus,” he respectfully bowed his tonsured head.

“Greetings Primus of Tremere.”  Antonius forced himself to rise and returned the bow.  “Is all well up north Seneca?” Antonius sat back down.

“It is well.  The Emperor has just launched his second expedition to the Holy Land and with luck it will be more successful than the last.”  Seneca looked around the room and his eyes narrowed a bit when he saw Marcus.

Marcus offered a thin wary smile as Senaca made his way to the chair marked with the astrological sign for man within a square, the symbol of House Tremere, followers of the belief that hierarchy and discipline were the only rational answer to an inherently dangerous and chaotic world. 

“Salve Bonisage!” boomed from a portly man in the finest cut of the most current fashions from Venice who entered the room with arms outstretched as if to hug everyone in the room at the same time.

“Salve Jerbiton.”  Antonius smiled warmly while several of the other primi cast skeptical looks at the man as he almost danced to the chair marked with a castle tower, the symbol of House Jerbiton, the custodians of art, culture, and diplomacy. 

“I see you are keeping up with Venice cuts this year Rafael, last year it was Roman or was it Milan?” Varia cocked her head to watch him pass.

“I came here from Venice so I dress as Venice would have me dress my dear feyling.”  He poured himself a goblet of wine and placed a few slices of cheeses and meats on a plate before taking his seat. 

“Any news of Italy and of the Pope we should concern ourselves with?” Arnbjórn rumbled.

“Just the usually political maneuverings of mundane politics good friend.  Gregory and Fredrick are arguing over Fredrick’s excommunication and I suspect Fredrick will leave for the Holy Land with out having it lifted.”

“To bad he is not taking those cursed Teutonic knights with him.” Arnbjórn grumbled.

“Their efforts would be better focused on the Turks rather than some harmless pagans in eastern Europe.” Senaca nodded. 

“I know of a few French knights who should be convinced to head that way as well.”  Rafael muttered softly as he sat down.

“The Cathars are not our concern Rafael.” Julia chided him.

“The Cathars are worse than the Moors and Turks, they distort the teachings…” Seneca began as a gaunt woman in her late sixties entered the room.

“Greetings Primus of Bonasagus,” she peered through very thick glasses.

“Greetings Primus of Verditus.”  Antonius nodded as she fumbled with one of the dozens of small talismans hanging in various places on her dress.  A goblet and plate of cheeses and breads flew ahead of her as she walked to the last chair.  It was marked with a hand with five rings on it, the symbol of House Verditus, the artificers and crafters of magical items.  “I hope all is well in southern Italy Claudia.”

“It is well and now that I have finished these lenses and their frame, I can see as I did thirty years ago.  I may even enchant them.”

For about an hour the twelve primi of the Order of Hermes chatted about minor things, sharing titbits of gossip, and otherwise caught up with as friends long separated.  Eventually the conversation wound down and after a few moments of silence Rafael spoke first.  “Antonius, I am worried about all the expeditions that have been launched in the name of the Church in recent years.”

“We cannot endanger the Order by challenging the Church, even a small portion of one of those armies could destroy many of the covenants in the Order.” Julius shook his head.

“My point exactly noble Guernicus.  What happens when they are done with the Moors or the pagans in the east?”

“While the Christian lords have made gains in Iberia, it will be a long time before the Moors are driven out.”  Julia shook her head. 

“Not to mention the various expeditions to the Holy Land have been less than successful.” Drucilla agreed.  “Ever since Saladin shattered them at Hatin and the second expedition failed to take Damascus, they have been mostly been driven back to a few cities along the coast and Cyprus.”

“You forget Richard’s campaign.” Seneca placed his goblet on the table and a pitcher floated over to refill it. 

“No, I don’t dear Seneca.  Yes he took Acre and a few coastal towns but he failed to even lay siege to Jerusalem.  He negotiated a peace that achieved peaceful passage for the Christians so at best you can call his campaign a partial success, …. from the Christian perspective.” Drucilla quickly added as Talibah looked at her.  “I doubt that Fredrick’s latest adventure will be any more successful.”

“Why should we be concerning ourselves with the Church’s Levantine campaigns?”  Claudia fumbled with a small bird’s claw and a pitcher floated over and refilled her goblet. 

“While the campaigns in the Levant are of little interest to any of us who do not have covenants over there,” Rafael nodded to Talibah and the Aoife, “The campaigns against the Cathars have unsettled an area where we have serious interests and most of our successes in building alliances with sensible church leaders.  I fear that if the northern knights and their allied clergy are successful over a hundred years of careful alliance building will be undone.”

“The Church and mundane nobles are tied up in many campaigns, not all of which go well for them.  Most of those campaigns will continue for a long time to come.  So long as we do not draw attention to ourselves I don’t think we need to worry overly much about the Church as a whole.”  Antonius sighed and sunk deeply into his chair. 

“I do not share that belief Noble Antonius.”  Arnbjórn rumbled.  “The Teutonic Order and its allies have been very troublesome for several of our covenants in the Novgorod Tribunal.  The fighting between them and the pagans has made collecting Vis and mundane supplies very dangerous.  Last harvest, I had to personally lead an attack to kill an entire group of them when they tried to destroy a village that the covenant I was visiting depends on for food.  The conflict has ceased for now but it will resume in the near future.”

“Arnbjórn, do you expect the covenants in the Baltic region to have to openly take sides?” Julius leaned forward, his brow furled and his voice heavy with concern. 

“I do not know Julius.  We have had very good relations with the Estonian nobles, some of them even welcome the covenants near them.  The villages tend to welcome us when we are in the area.  When we do have to fight we are as careful as we can be to leave no traces as to what happened.  While I hope that we don’t have to get drawn in, we have to defend ourselves and those we depend on.”  Arnbjórn again glanced over at a pitcher of wine and it floated over to refill his goblet. 

“Dragons.”  Talibah traced one of the tattoos on her cheek.

“Aye, no easy answers.  Best we try to avoid entanglements in mundane fights.  We must defend ourselves but taking sides must be avoided.” Aoife nodded in agreement.

“Sometimes war does not give us the choice.” Arnbjórn shrugged.

“Even if we try to keep a low profile, we have to defend ourselves when they come raping the lands that our covenants depend on for food and other basic supplies.” Marcus made a come hither motion with his left hand and the pitcher of wine that had just refilled Arnbjórn’s goblet floated over and refilled his goblet.  “Which means at some point the Church will notice that we are organized and that we are not just a handful of odd nobles.”

“The mundanes would be better off if they had a single strong leader as they did with the early Caesars or with Charlemagne.”  Seneca tugged at a thread in his robe. 

“Order creates chaos; short mundane lives.”  Talibah traced the largest tattoo on her forehead. 

Julia muttered something very softly as she too a drink.  Antonius threw a sharp glance at her as Talibah looked at her as if noticing an insect for the first time.

“New supplies of Vis are becoming harder to find, especially as fairy forests retreat in the face of more and more mundane villages.”  Varia mused softly. 

“It is becoming very hard to find places to locate new covenants without getting drawn into mundane politics.” Claudia nodded.

“Provencal is being cleared of many villages as we speak.” Rafael grumbled.

“Rafael, you have long advocated for closer ties with the Church and that we shouldn’t fear them.”  Julia’s smile took any sting from the words.

“Have you considered taking a lover Julia?”  Rafael winked back.

“Perhaps a few noble?”  Varia smirked.

Julia’s face flushed darkly but before she could respond, Arnbjórn’s fist slammed into the table, “ENOUGH!”  We are here to decide what to do about all the Christian expeditions that threaten to draw us in.  Every magi and every covenant is split over this.  We need to present a unified answer that is more than ‘avoid if possible.’” 

“Arnbjórn is right,” Julius frowned.  “We have only a short time and we have other issues to …”  A soft knock on the door interrupted him.

Antonius glanced around the room and after several Primi nodded he made an opening motion with his hand and muttered softly.  The heavy bolt holding the door shut slid to one side and the door opened just enough for Jonathon to slip in.

“This had better be very important Jonathon.”  Antonius warned as the boy approached as if caught red handed in some serious misdeed and sent to the headmaster’s office. 

“Please forgive me Primi.  Master, I was studying in your library when a strange fog started coming out of the fireplace.  I quickly checked and there was no fire and the flute was open.  As the fog started to fill the room I reached out to see if I could determine if magic was at work and a man stepped out of the fog.” 

“In your personal library?!!??”  Julia blurted out.  The other Primi seemed equally stunned and after a moment of silence began all talking at once.

“Silence.”  Antonius rapped the table with his knuckles and the sound of a gavel echoed through the room loud enough to silence all the Primi.  As they fell silent, Antonius looked again at his apprentice.  “Please continue Jonathon.”

Swollowing hard, “He claimed to be an elf lord and that he asked to speak with you by full name and title.”  Jonathon looked around the room, “each of you.”

Again Antonius had to gavel the Primi into silence with repeated rapping of his knuckles onto the table.  Turing to Jonathon,  Antonius smiled warmly, “You have done nothing wrong Jonathon, but are you absolutely sure he actually walked out of the fog and not through the door while it was obscured by the fog?”  Antonius peered deeply into the boy’s eyes.

Jonathon closed his eyes for a moment and mumbled a few quick words.  “I had to unlock the door when I left the chamber to come here.  I am certain that my back was to the door when he appeared but the fog was very thick at the time and I might have gotten turned around.”

Compressing his lips tightly together Antonius looked at the other Primi one at a time, “Thoughts?”

“Perhaps we should hear what this person has to say.”  Aiofe spoke first.

“If he can pass through the wards on this covenant and into your sanctum he must be exceptionally powerful and we need to take precaution before meeting with him.”  Claudia pulled out a handkerchief and began cleaning her glasses.

“We should use the Judgment Chamber.  Its wards against demons, fey, and divine are the strongest in the Order and the ward against lying was laid in a ritual lead by my parens, who specialized in detecting such things,” Julius nodded in agreement.

“I agree that we should use the Judgment Chamber but we need to erect additional protective wards, as strong as we can make them.”  Seneca drained his goblet.

“If he can pass through the Aegis protecting this covenant, no spell we can cast as individuals will touch him.”  Marcus scoffed.  “We should alert the rest of the magi here for the Tribunal and prepare to deal with this intruder harshly,” he gripped his dagger and seemed almost eager.

“I think we are dealing with a very powerful few, maybe even a personal servant of Oberon or Tatiana.  It would be prudent for us to be very polite.”  Varia frowned at Marcus.

“There are two other forces that this individual might represent, one that we would be powerless against – thus explaining how he penetrated the Aegis, and one that will require us to use our wits and good judgment rather than try to break his deceptions.”  Drucilla shook her head.

“Enigma requires knowledge; premature judgment foolish.” Talibah traced a tattoo on the back of her wrist.

“Let us take every precaution we can without alerting the other magi … for now.” Julia raised her finger.  “We should expect some ruse or deception, especially if we are dealing with fey or diabolic forces.”

Looking around the table again, Antonius spoke with closed eyes. “We shall reconvene in the Judgment chamber in two hours having made what personal preparations we each deem necessary but not to alert the rest of the magi for the moment.  I don’t want someone to take action prematurely.”  Each of the Primi nodded in turn and rose to leave the room one by one in the order in which they came in.

Turning to his apprentice, “Please so the man to a guest room and tell him we will meet him in three hours.  Then in two hours time meet us outside of the Judgment Chamber and I will summon you when it is time to bring him to us.”

“Yes Master,” Jonathon helped his master to his feet. 

“Off with you.  I can still walk unaided and I don’t want him to be in my sanctum when I arrive.”  Antonius shooed the boy off.

“What if he insists on waiting to meet you?”

“Tell him that we will meet him as a group so we can all hear what he has to say and that we would like him to be comfortable while we get ready to meet such an honored visitor.  If he still refuses, then I will just have to encounter him.”  Antonius frowned deeply.   

Journal of P. Licinius Crassus (pt. 3)

6 Aprilis 705 AUC

        I have not seen Tuar Tel-Quessir for over a month.  He left shortly after our dinner saying that he would tend to getting us permission to leave and work for his people.  I received a letter today from one of the King’s ministers in Ctesiphon.  He has asked Calvus to explain the offer to purchase us and take us to a distant land.  I consulted with Calvus and he wants the king to know that we have been approached and said that he passed the offer on to the king and that we are the dutiful slaves of the King and that our lives continue only so long as it is the pleasure of the King.  We have known that the King is not secure on his throne and this makes him more likely to respond negatively if we are not very careful.

15 Maius 705 AUC

        Spring is drawing to a close and summer will soon be upon us.  We have gathered a solid supply of grain and could march tomorrow if we felt the need.  The local notables have noticed our building of many carts and acquiring additional grain and have begun asking questions, answers of which will probably be sent to the King and his ministers.  Calvus placates them with plans for an eventual campaign to the north against the Dahae, a tribe of nomads north of the desert, assuming the king agrees to the plan of course.  Many of them have pledged additional troops and cavalry as well as funds expecting to share in the spoils.  I do not know how well that will work with the idea of a permanent relocation, or if they will insist on honoring their promises when we do leave.  They can be somewhat temperamental at times. 

4 Iunius 705 AUC

        Another letter from Ctesiphon arrived today.  Apparently the king has appointed a governor who will take over this fort and upon his arrival, with replacement troops, we are to march on the Dahae and add those lands to the domain of the king.  The minister ‘helpfully’ suggests that we march through the lands of the Khwarezm, along the Onyx river and ‘secure their friendship with the king.’  Well, it meets our needs and Calvus was unusually jubilant at the news.  We have had good relations with the Khwarezm king and his nobles.  We strongly respect their heavy cavalry; most of our own cavalry auxiliaries are Khwarezmites.  If we can march through their lands, it will greatly reduce any concern for water.  We expect the new governor at the end of summer.  I guess it is about time to have a long delayed conversation with my wife and her family…

2 Sextilus 705 AUC

        We informed the centurions today of the plan to take up a new commission as free mercenaries.  The reaction was surprisingly mixed.  While they welcomed the idea of their own villa and surrounding lands, the idea of leaving everything they had built for the last five years gives them pause.  Most of us have young children and a trek through the harsh lands to the north, while a challenge to a man may be lethal to women and children.  In the end they agreed with the plan.  I think the promise of triple wages and booty was more of an incentive than the promise of better farm land when they retire.    

9 Sextilus 705 AUC

        I have been inundated with local notables asking for more details.  They have of course withdrawn any promises of sending troops with us after learning that we are not coming back.  They have also been rather insistent that we return all the funds they have advanced us for grain and wagons.  They are uniformly opposed to the idea of us taking our wives and children with us.  I fear I have had to be rather firm in denying their demands, at least until I can discuss it with Calvus and the new governor.  I suspect they will just have to live with a bit of disappointment.

The merchant lords are most concerned about whether our patrols of the trade routes will continue.  I have assured them that the new governor would not be eager to see a return of banditry, that he is bringing a large replacement force so that the patrols will continue, and that we will not leave until he arrives so the patrols will not be interrupted. 

        I have my informants looking into the moral of the legionaries, and over all, the mood seems to be anticipation of the coming journey and the promise of new conquests.  I am certain that we will loose some legionaries who refuse to come.  They should only be the ones that we wouldn’t be able to rely on in the first place. 

14 Septembris 705 AUC

        The new governor and his army was sighted a few days ago.  Calvus has sent out orders to all the troops to assemble as soon as possible.  I have been in contact with my counterparts among the Khwarezm and they are open to the idea of us moving through their lands and may even provide us with additional cavalry against the nomads. 

We have had several messages over the last month or so as the governor has made his way here so there was no alarm when a force of nearly ten thousand troops appeared in the hills to the south and west of the town.  They are marching on the same road that brought us here almost five years ago.  Jupiter’s stones, has it really been five years since we arrived, survivors of a massacre and completely at the mercy of our captors?  We have built something very special here and I am starting to realize that I will miss this place.  I guess it is time to pack and to make final arrangements for the house and other property that my family can not take with us.  In all total, my wife, my two daughters and new born son, her brother, his wife, and their four children will comprise seed of the future Lucinii clan; a stronger beginning than the Trojans who founded our people in Italia, who had to acquire wives from the Sabines.

16 Septembris 705 AUC

        There will be a few days while we finish gathering the outer patrols and the new troops take up their positions.  We are doing the final checking of supplies and provisions as well as a head count for those who are traveling.  We had to limit who could come with us as just about every family of locals has several members of their family willing to strike out for new lands.  In total we have eight thousand legionaries, their wives and children, sixteen thousand civilians and their families.  Most of the civilians are the youngest sons of farmers and their wives and children.  We have a good number of artisans and craftsmen and their families.  In all total we have at least fifty thousand people, with all their animals, carts, and so forth.  I have sent letters to the Khwarezm of our numbers and plans to move further north and not just stop with a campaign against the Dahae. 

19 Sepembris 705 AUC

        The new governor is not pleased that so many people are leaving.  He had expected the legion and perhaps some camp followers, certainly not one in ten of the entire population for this province.  He is demanding a lot of gold in trade for us to take ‘his people’ from him.  I am not privy to the discussions between him and Calvus but I have heard him yelling at Calvus over the matter. 

Fortunately, he saw our legion drawn up in parade formation and he knows that his troops are no match for us if blows came to be struck.  I am worried that if he has second thoughts about letting us leave, and if he decides to give chase, we would be very vulnerable to raiding parties while marching.  We have some cavalry, enough to detect any serious force moving in pursuit but not enough to adequately guard against raids. Perhaps our alliance with the Khwarezm will help.  If it holds; a mass migration of this type can strain or even break relations.  I do not expect any answer to my letters before we are on the march. 

20 Sepembris 705 AUC

        A deal has been struck between Calvus and the governor.  We will leave on 3 Octobris, the fifth anniversary of when we arrived.  Apparently, Tuar Tel-Quessir has been with the governor and made promises for golden compensation sufficient to ease the governor’s concerns.  His people must either be exceptionally rich or exceptionally desperate to spend so much gold on a tribe of mercenaries. 

Where he came from and when he arrived no one seems to know.  He wasn’t with the governor originally but now he is here.  I am very glad that I still have that amulet I purchased for the dinner.  He is not alone either.  He has twelve companions, each could be his brother so closely do they look alike.  They will be our guides on our journey.   

They are checking our supplies for the journey and speaking in their own language.  Communication with them is difficult as they only speak fragments of the local language or our own.  They actually suggested that we tie all our people together in a single rope line so we wouldn’t get lost on the journey.  I am not sure if they are joking or they are really believed that we would get lost.  As if it would be possible to tie fifty thousand people together in the first place. 

They were surprised by our numbers.  Apparently they were only expecting the actual legion and a few camp followers, much as the governor seemed to have in mind.  I do not know if they are pleased or displeased at our numbers, only that they had a sharp discussion among themselves.  They would not speak about the subject after that sharp conversation.   

25 Sepembris 705 AUC

        Most of the good byes and fair wells have been said; now it is just the mustering of the troops and getting everyone moving.  With a mass of civilians with us, we will move very slowly.  I wonder how long it will actually take us to get to these new lands.  The Iastae are about the same distance as where we were captured if my sources are to be trusted.  There is little information on Iastae because there is little reason to trade with nomads that far north.  A force used to marching could probably cover the distance in a couple of months but with all these civilians and we will be heading into winter once we get beyond the Dahae lands. 

I have not been able to find out much about Tuar Tel-Quessir’s people.  His companions have taken over Biashim’S and strictly keep to themselves; they do not speak beyond bare necessities with the servants and answer no questions.  I can not shake a suspicion that something much stranger than I can imagine is a foot.  While I have reported this to Calvus and he has told me to keep probing for information, he doesn’t seem too concerned with it.  He did mention that Tuar Tel-Quessir has a much greater amount of money with which to buy our services than he had previously believed but wouldn’t say how he came to believe this.  Such concerns are going to have to wait. 

3 Octobris 705 AUC

        We started out today.  At first light the horns sounded and we began to march.  We barely covered five miles today and it doesn’t look like we will ever cover much more than that if we are to keep everyone together.  I’ve dusted off the old writing desk that I purchased before leaving Roma.  I am surprised that it is still in good condition. 

        We are planning on following the trade routes to the Onyx and then move north along it until it reaches the Onyx Sea.  We will move along the western edge of the sea until we come to the eastern lands of the Iaste at the north end of the Onyx Sea.  From there we will have to rely on Tuar Tel-Quessir and his companions for guidance. 

5 Octobris 705 AUC

        We were met by the merchants carrying a reply to my letters to the Khwarezm today.  My counterparts tell me that their king will allow us to travel through their lands but we must move as quickly as possible lest we cause concern.  A force of several thousand heavy cavalry will accompany us to the north end of the Onyx Sea and maybe even help us fight the Iaste if there is sufficient pay involved.  Will Tuar Tel-Quessir wish to add these troops to our new tribe? 

        Each night as we camp, his companions pitch their tents in a perfect circle and study the stars with strange instruments.  Being very interested in the stars, Legate Nigidius Figulus has tried to make conversation with them about their doings.  I do not know if it was the insult he gave to Tuar Tel-Quessir at the dinner, the companion’s lack of skill in our language, or Figulus’ somewhat brusk manner at time but they refused to explain any more than that they were too busy to speak with him.   After I tried, Tuar Tel-Quessir asked Calvus to instruct us to stop bothering them and that they were charting our course to their land.  I know that mariners often navigate by the stars but to do that while traveling by land is novel.  Usually land features make such navigation unreliable.  Maybe their strange tools have a way of compensating for those problems. 

21 Octobris 705 AUC

        The last couple weeks have been hard travel.  We have been joined by the heavy cavalry of the Khwarezm.  Two thousand warriors with a like number of camp followers now flank our long column on the march.  We reached the Onxy River and are now moving along it.  I have felt itchiness under my skin for the last couple days, something my eldest daughter has shared, making her rather irritable.  The medicus gave me an ointment for both of us but told me that they have had a number of people complain about it.  There is no rash and it seems worst at the deepest of night.  It has been enough that I have had to take walks in the middle of the night and have had trouble sleeping.  Tuar Tel-Quessir’s companions stopped studying the night sky and have started what they call a prayer or religious observation each night.  Their description doesn’t seem to translate very well across the language barrier but as usually they are rather reluctant to share information.  Their music is extremely beautify and somewhat haunting.  They only play it in the deepest hours of the night and softly enough that anyone who wishes to listen must come within a child’s stone throw of their tents to hear it.  It has been going on for about a week now and now that I think of it, the itchiness that my daughter and I have been suffering from started about that time.  I am sure it is mere coincidence, but I am going to start sleeping with that amulet of mine and see about getting another for my daughter.  

        During today’s travel a heavy set of clouds, dark with rain appeared on the western horizon and have moved quickly towards us.  Even now the late rain pounds upon our tent and I fear that we won’t be able to make much distance over the next few days. 

22 Octobris 705 AUC

        I have written this passage a dozen times and still I can not believe it.  I have managed to omit most of my panic and terror at the events of today but I am still terrified to my very core.  I have managed to put on a strong face for my wife and children but inside, the terror I felt as a boy who had invoked his father’s greatest wrath by childish deeds is but a shadow of what I feel. 

There can be no doubt that Tuar Tel-Quessir and all of his companions are venēficus and very powerful ones at that.  Today when we awoke to the morning horns, we found ourselves not where we expected.  Rather than find ourselves in the lands of the Khwarezm and closing on the Onyx Sea, we are in a deep forest adjacent to a deep and strong river.  Tuar Tel-Quessir said that via the magic of his people, we have arrived and that we are free do settle anywhere we wish and that all the lands along this river and any rivers flowing into it belonged to us now.  He urged us to make a fortification as quickly as possible and to not spread out too much until we had secured the area for several days journey in all directions for there would be some of the weaker enemies of his people in the area. 

        Most of today was spent mastering our terror at the sudden change.  Horatus’ discipline and that of his centurions was probably the only thing that kept us together.  Upon discovering the change, he sent for Calvus and quickly issued orders.  They quickly brought the legionaries into order with a bit of sharp discipline and calmed their fears with quick orders to make a fortified camp.  Seeing our troops moving to make a more permanent structure, the civilians have started to calm themselves.  We will have to calm our own inner fears in the days to come and figure out where we are and where we go from here.  By Juno’s landīca, I am terrified.  What sort of infernal pact have we made?

Journal of P. Licinius Crassus (pt. 2)

7 Februaris 702 AUC

        We have finally finished the last stone tower.  For the last year and a half we have torn down the old defenses of this town and rebuilt them.  Now, I doubt five legions could take this town if it were protected by mere children. 

        We have built a solid stone wall some 70 stadia in circumference to enclose the city.  Stone towers are spaced all around the walls so that any attempt to assault the wall will be kept under constant fire by at least two towers.  Each tower is strong enough to support two ballistae which can pierce the armor of any siege engine that comes close enough to threaten the walls.  The tower gates can each support five ballistae and two onagri.  In short, this city would be extremely expensive to take, even for veteran troops with the best siege weapons. 

        We patrol the outer regions of this province with century sized patrols and have wiped out any form of organized banditry.  To aid in this process we are constructing a series of smaller garrison forts, little more than fortified barracks to provide a bit of rest after a long march for our patrolling troops.  Each century takes a turn marching the circuit, one day marching, one day working on improving the garrison buildings.  After the completion of a circuit, the century takes a few days leave.

Nearby desert tribes have learned to not harass caravans approaching or leaving the city alone lest we send out a force to teach them some manners.  While we can not guard caravans too far from our lines, if a caravan can get within a week or so of our outer forts, it is as safe as my newborn daughter in the arms of her mother. 

15 Martius 705 AUC

A most peculiar traveler came into the fortress today.  In dress and manners he was no different than any merchant prince or local lord but several points about him stand out.

First, and perhaps most unusual, he was traveling alone.  No attendants, no caravan, no bodyguards, nothing.  Even in the most peaceful lands this is an exceptional event, in lands that was so recently heavily troubled by banditry, it is sheer madness.  He must have some powerful gods protecting him to travel these lands with but a few weapons and a camel. 

Second, when he approached the fortress and requested a private audience with our legate, the guards did not inquire about his business but passed him on to their superiors.  Even when our praefectus castrorum met with the traveler, learned no more than his name, Tuar Tel’Quessir, a name unlike any of the known barbarians in the region, or of any of the merchants I have heard of in the last four years in this land.  Our praefectus castrorum, Gaius Horatus Cocles, is a good friend and I trust his judgment but he is also a veteran who would not normally pass on a visitor to me, the secretary of the legate, with so few details.

Thirdly, when I met with this man I was initial inclined to treat him as a local lord, he was certainly dressed as a man of quality without being boorish, as is the custom of these lands. 

I recount our conversation of this morning this night before I go to bed. 

 “Licinius, this man needs to speak with the legate, his business is most urgent.” Horatius rumbled.  Not his usual growl that would send a legionary or tribune about his business but one that announced a very important person was expecting my attention; certainly too much honor for a mere messenger reporting an attack on a caravan.

I looked up to evaluate this guest more closely.  His clothing indicated that he was someone of quality.  It was very well made and well cared for, of expensive, but not ostentatious, materials.  I judged him to be a very prosperous merchant, one who would be in charge of several caravan routes.

“What business does a caravan lord have with our legate?  Has one of your caravan been attacked?”  I respectfully asked.

The stranger looked me over, much as I had done him, save I had the distinct impression he was looking into my very soul.  It was most unnerving.  For a brief moment I could almost swear his eyes became like that of a cat’s but it surely had to be a trick of the light. 

“Publius Licinius Crassus, I have a proposal from my people to your people, one that should be heard first by your legate.”  The man’s voice was pure melody; with almost a feminine tinge to it.  It seeped into my skull and I could feel a strong desire to introduce this man to my legate. I closed my eyes and shook my head as if to ward off Hypnos, the god of sleep, and looked at him again.  I could almost swear there was a very feint widening of his eyes, but if so it was gone before I could be certain. 

“Respectfully noble sir, may I at least have your name?”  I knew I needed every scrap of detail about this man before I let him in to see the legate.

“In your language, my name sounds like Tuar Tel’ Quessir for I am merely the servant of my people.”  He bowed from the waist with the grace of an athlete in finest form. 

In part to keep myself focused on examining this man, I sat down and took up my quill, “What business do you need to speak with our legate about?”  I had to struggle to be properly official in tone, so deep was the desire to help this man with his every request. 

A very faint frown touched his lips at my question, it seems he was not used to being questioned by mere underlings.  “As I said, my people wish to make a proposal to your legate.”

“With deepest respects noble sir, if I merely tell the legate that someone has a proposal for him he will shove it to the bottom of the list of the many things he needs to pay attention to this day.  So if you could provide me with some details, I can make sure he gives appropriate attention to your proposal.”  The desire I felt to help this man seemed to be fading quickly; almost like a summer squall.  I was starting to feel like my usual self as the moments passed. 

“My people wish to see about hiring your small army for a very serious long term engagement.  We need to know if your legate is interested and what terms he might consider for undertaking this engagement.”  The man hid his displeasure with great skill, but there remained just a trace that I could detect.  Most nobles think they are Venus’ gift to whomever they are speaking with and when some mere pleb like me is not impressed, they are almost always beside themselves.  I could tell however that this man was no ordinary noble, more like a confident of a powerful king.  He was not merely a spoiled brat but a diplomat used to having other nobles tremble when he spoke. 

“Noble Tuar Tel’Quessir,” I rose and bowed, for the prudent man knows when to stop teasing a lion, “I will speak with our legate immediately.  I will ask him to meet with you for a few moments later today if that is satisfactory?” 

The man smiled faintly and nodded.

I had the man wait in the one of the hospitality rooms adjacent to the atrium while I went and spoke with the legate.  Licinius Calvus agreed to meet with him, briefly when I described the guest as a merchant lord of some sort.  One never knows about the people of this land.  They can be quite unpredictable in questions of honor.

The visitor and Calvus met for a few moments and initially was his typical polite but busy self.  After a few pleasantries, he seemed to take more interest in this stranger.  The stranger was unusually cryptic about his business, only that it was a proposal that would take some time to explain and that it should be discussed over dinner with the tribunes present. 

Despite the cryptic nature of the request, Calvus agreed to the meeting but that it would take a couple of days because one of the legates was inspecting one of the outer forts and would be summoned with great haste.  For Licinius Calvus to disrupt the normal schedule he had assigned his tribunes is most unexpected … and disconcerting. 

At the end of the conversation, I showed the stranger back to the gate, curious to see if I could get more information from him.  I failed.  He did ask if I could recommend a mansio where he could wait for a few days.  I directed him to Biashim’S, a maniso that I knew to be popular with many caravan leaders and merchants who pass through this city on a regular basis.  One in which I have several paid servants who provide me with important information.

16 Martius 705 AUC

        Yesterday after the stranger met with Calvus and I had failed to get more information from him, I resolved to question the legionaries who met him at the gate, as well as Gaius, in some detail about their encounter with this visitor. 

        Gaius Pullo and Quintus Bruttius were on that shift according to the duty postings.  There were no records of them ever being inattentive to their duties and Bruttius had been cited for valor in one of the battles with the local bandits about six months ago.  I had them brought to my office and questioned them, naturally they were most unnerved.  Once I assured them that they were not in trouble, they both recalled the stranger quite clearly.  They had judged him to be a noble based on his clothing, a reasonable assumption.  They both agreed that he was armed with a sword that was similar to our horsemen’s spatha but guessed that it was better designed for use by a footman with a small shield or dagger.  They described his bow as one similar to, but of much higher quality, than the type used by some of the nomads far to the east of us.  From his bearing and how he carried the weapons, they were quite certain that he was well skilled in the use of those weapons.  Like all visitors he had surrendered his weapons upon entering the fortress. 

        They both reported that initially they were merely going to take a message and have him return the next day but when they expressed that to him, they reported having a strange feeling of drowsiness and yet warmth and trust for this man.  When Pullo first mentioned this, the shock on Bruttius’ face told me that his confirmation of the story was unrehearsed.  It was only after they experienced that feeling did they feel the need to immediately take the visitor to see praefectus. 

        I am most disturbed by the fact that Horatus described, in almost the exact same words, a similar change in attitude towards this stranger when he was reluctant to pass him on to me.  I grow more concerned that this stranger might not be protected by strange gods but rather might be a venēficus.  I will have to speak with Calvus about my concerns, and see about getting some form of amulet to ward against the possibility.

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        Calvus was unreceptive to the idea that our strange visitor might be a venēficus until I described the strange feelings that each of the people I questioned reported.  Calvus admitted to the strange shifting of opinion as he spoke with the stranger.  I told him that I had arranged for the stranger to stay at a maniso where I had informants and he is looking forward to my report on the stranger’s activities.  He still wants to go through with the dinner and dictated orders for each of the tribunes to be in attendance at the dinner.  He declined to invite any of the local notables as he wanted to know what this stranger was proposing before he made any decisions and local notables can be rather excitable at the most inappropriate times.  He also asked me to procure similar warding amulets for himself and each of the tribunes, just in case my concerns have some merit. 

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        I was able to talk with my informants at Biashim’S today.  The stranger has spent the last two days exploring the city, inspecting various crafts and trade goods.  He has purchased a small number of trinkets, each something that would be easily carried but each trinket represented a different craft.  Each night, to the delight of the staff and fellow travelers, he has played a flute for a short while after his evening meal.  His meals have been light and he never touches beer or wine.  My informants reported that most of his time has been spent in prayer and meditation in his room.

        Most disturbingly, my informants report that efforts to find out more about him have been met with vague answers about seeking new trade items and if pressed about his business, they reported the same strange feeling of drowsiness and trust but this time coupled with a definite loss of interest in his affairs. 

        I have secured eight warding amulets from the local priests of Mithra.  They should be sufficient since he is the deity of law and contracts in this area.  I hope.  Even with the amulets, I look forward to tomorrow night’s dinner with a great deal of concern. 

       

20 Martius 705 AUC

        Last night’s dinner was most interesting.  It was a quiet affair with just the legate, the six tribunes, our guest, and myself.  Despite the apparent nobility of our guest, Licinius did not invite any of the local notables, he felt that Tuar Tel’Quessir wished privacy for his proposal.  And with good reason. 

        After each guest had been seated on their respective lectus triclinaris, with Tuar Tel’Quessir being placed in the most honored seat, the gustatio was served, and we got to know each other a bit.  Tuar Tel’Quessir was extremely curious about our ways and customs.  He confessed that he heard of our fighting skills from other sources and knew little of us beyond the rumors.  Rumors, he said, were so impressive that he felt compelled to travel several months from the distant north to come and see if they were true.   While we dined on the primae mensae, we had a very deep discussion of our tactics against barbarians and how we would fight different strange foes.  Many of these foes seemed drawn from Tuar Tel’Quessir’s very creative mind.  Some of the foes were the size of small men and weak in strength and organization but vast in number while others were the size of three men but slow of mind and few in number.  In all it was a very interesting conversation. 

        When the secundae mensae was served, Tuar Tel’Quessir made his proposal.  I recount the words as best I can remember after a full meal and several strong drinks.

        “Legate…” Tuar Tel’Quessir began as he reached for another apricot.

        “Please call me Lucinius, most of the local lords do so.”  Lucinius sipped from his goblet. 

        Nodding in agreement, “Lucinius, what would it take for you to march your army to my land and permanently enter the employ of my people?”

        “Tuar,” Lucinius stopped when Tuar Tel’Quessir stiffened ever so slightly.  “ahem, Tuar Tel’Quessir,” Lucinius quickly continued, as his guest relaxed, “we are technically slaves to the Parthians.  True they give us wide latitude but they still own us so for us to rebel and leave this land would not be easy.”

        “Forgive me Lucinius, I mean no disrespect is a mild form of slavery preferable to freedom?”  Tuar Tel’Quessir sipped from his own goblet. 

        “Certainly freedom is preferred, but if we were to suddenly leave the city, the Parthians would suspect rebellion and send an army after us.” Lucinius also sipped from his goblet. 

        “I am sure that if they knew you would be marching far beyond their lands and posed no threat to them would they not be willing to let you go?”

        “While they might, they have a long history of regional rebellions and are quick to suspect and quicker to respond forcefully.  While we are an impressive force, eventually they would follow and catch up to us.  Moving through the desert that surrounds this river valley we would have to have an extensive supply train and that would slow us considerably.” Lucinius picked up a slice of apple from the center table.

        “Not to mention we would have to take our families for they would be suspected and probably be put to death or held hostage.” Legate Petronius Aemilianus added.

        “Naturally I had assumed your wives and their families would come with you.  And you are right, it would be a slow force that would be possible for the Parthians to overtake but surely it would take them several months to assemble a force and march.” Tuar Tel-Quessir nodded in Aemilianus’ direction.

        “We have to make preparations, secure supplies, and convince our wives and their families to come.  All of which would alert the Parthians and give them time to raise the troops for a quick pursuit.”  Legate Modius Zeno added.

        “This of course begs the question of where is your land and how long will it take us to get there,” Legate Marcus Fadius began, “assuming that we are interested of course.”  Fadius took a quick sip from his goblet under Lucinius’ sharp stare.

        “The best way to reach our lands is to march north beyond the lands of the Iastae.  It would probably take you, with your families and necessary supplies, at least three months to reach the lands we have in mind for you.” Tuar Tel-Quessir took a couple of grapes from the center table.

        “North means that we will have to carry fewer supplies and might be able to replenish supplies from the local nomads if we are well coined in advance.” Legate Titus Postumius mused.

        “I think some of that could be arranged but it would take a bit of time.  Probably by the time you had assembled your wagons and other supplies, I could have sufficient coins to see to your safe passage through the nomads.  We have some dealings with them and have found that they can be reasonable for the right price.”  Tuar Tel-Quessir popped one of the grapes in his mouth. 

        “Once we begun preparing, word would reach the Parthian king and he would be most uneasy at our sudden leaving; we have defended this province and have suppressed local banditry and he would have to find replacement troops, assuming he didn’t send an army to kill us before we could complete our preparations.”  Legate Marcus Sulla added.

        “Perhaps I am negotiating with the wrong party?  Should I seek your master’s permission and pay him rather than you for your services?”  Tuar Tel-Quessir raised an eyebrow.

        “No, you are right to deal with us directly Tuar Tel-Quessir.  We Romans just like to plan things very carefully and think through all concerns before we take action.  Some agreement with the Parthian king will be necessary but I am sure that we can arrange that,” Calvus held his goblet up to be refilled by a slave.  “The only real question is how much gold and silver will he want to let us go.  As Marcus Sulla pointed out, we are providing him with a valuable service right now and if we leave these strong defenses without his having time to move replacements in, the local lords will probably rebel and cause him grief.”

        Tuar Tel-Quessir looked most unhappy at the apparent mounting costs of convincing us to come into the employ of his people.  “This wine is most delicious.  I am usually not fond of … local drinks,” he mused.  “Some of my people are in his court and can handle the matter to his satisfaction and make sure that you are free to leave.  We can take care of that while you make your preparations.” 

        “One question that has been in my mind most of this evening if I may Tuar,”  Legate Nigidius Figulus began.  Even though Tuar Tel-Quessir stiffened, this time quite noticeably, Figulus ignored the gesture, “you have asked a lot about our fighting skills and how we would handle a number of different mythical enemies.  This leads me to believe that you wish us for more than mere garrison duty in some frontier area of your lands.”

        Relaxing back into his lectus, Tuar Tel-Quessir pinned Figulus with a slightly chilled look.  “There is a large frontier area of our lands where savage tribes are currently living and increasingly they are raiding into our lands.  We are planning on settling a large number of mercenaries and their families in the area so as to act as a buffer zone.  We have approached your legion as the first of these groups because of your fighting and building skills.  We believe that you would be strong enough to build a city in the area and expand it, over time, to become a full client state able to secure our boarder.”

        Calvus chuckled, “So you are asking us to become a new Aeneas and his followers?  Or perhaps you would have me assume the role of Romulus?” 

        Tuar Tel-Quessir looked puzzled, “I do not know those men; I assume they are heroes of some importance?”

        “They are demigods and founders of our people. Aeneas lead our people from the ruins of Troy to Italia and Romulus built city of Roma.”  Calvus now looked directly at Tuar Tel-Quessir without the smallest hint of mirth.  I was barely able to stop myself from falling off my lectus as I listened to the exchange.

Tuar Tel-Quessir laughed a deep musical laugh, unearthly in its beauty.  “In short, yes.  That is exactly what my people are asking you to do.” 
        It was our turn to be astounded by his brazen suggestion.  Over the last five years we have built a life here and most of us had taken wives and had children.  My head swam with the idea of suggesting to my father in law that he abandon the land of his fathers and carry off his family to some distant land, for I knew my wife would not leave without her parents and probably not without her siblings.  Hopefully her brothers won’t want to come.   

Calvus was the first to recover, “If we accept this idea, what will your people provide us?  We know that you need our military skills and will provide us with land; and while good land will provide a solider with a retirement, it does not pay his wages while he is under the Standard.” 

“I can offer three times a soldier’s pay to each man for up to twenty years as well as good farm land upon retirement. For each centurion, the land necessary for a villa overseeing the farms possessed by the men he commanded for at least ten years.  For each tribune and for yourself we can work out an appropriate sum of either gold or silver in addition to what ever land you might consider necessary.”

“And the costs of the preparations for the journey.  Wagons and supplies will be expensive.” Calvus added.

“Done.”  Tuar Tel-Quessir nodded.

The rest of the evening was spent discussing other matters, such as the lay of the land we would be heading to and more discussions about the enemies we will face.  While I am inclined to believe some of the stories, others I find to be unlikely at best.  A savage foe that is numerous and filthy which are barely beyond the level of animals, and even the idea that they have tamed some form of large wolf to work as a war steed are believable.  The other ideas such as beasts as tall as three men and able to throw stones like an onager or men with the head of jackals like some Egyptian god I will reserve judgment about.

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        The next few weeks will be exceptionally heavy work as we make plans, decide how many of our families will come, will we take just our wives and children or will we include the parents, siblings, and whole clans?  Will Tuar Tel-Quessir be able to make arrangements with the Parthian king as he has promised?

Thousands of details to attend to in the next few months.