Beneath the Iron

III. Hic Manebimus Optime

Soon, other units were in place to hold the captured fortress and wipe out the rest of the Fosii, whose crucified bodies would decorate the border until the carrion-eaters had their way. That left Helva's legion free to move homeward. There were always auxiliaries, helpers, and messengers running around the legion as it moved, so Eirlys wasn't paid much mind as long as she seemed to have a purpose. The wide-eyed girl struggled to keep up at first, but seemed to understand that survival depended on moving forward.

Helva was uncertain how she would have felt in Eirlys's place, cut off from her own people. It was something she mulled over as she marched. For three months, the army made its way homeward. Eirlys spent much of that time among the camp followers, her tattoos covered by face-paint. That was Sallustius's order. None of them knew what the markings meant, but he hadn't wanted to take any chances.

There was something very comfortable about their meal at the end of the day. It was never anything fancy, but Taurus was turning Eirlys into an excellent cook. Sabinus had grumbled about being poisoned since that arrangement started, looking downright miffed when Rulla teased him about "saying such unkind things about Taurus". If their decanus had any strong feelings one way or the other, Sallustius wasn't voicing them. Helva was content to just listen and eat. She'd always been on the quieter side of things.

"Here," Taurus said, handing two bowls to Helva. Eirlys was right on his heels. "You and the little one can take Sallustius his food." Their decanus was the one up on their section of the wall keeping watch. The air was much warmer now that they were getting close to home, but even in friendly territory, the legion was on guard. Ensconced in the red walls of the fortress above Idunum, an installation barely large enough for a full legion and associated auxiliaries, everyone felt more secure. Personal space was scarce, with units squeezed against each other. Being out on the wall offered their decanus more chance to think free of distraction and noise.

"Thanks," Helva said. The stew smelled divine and she knew it contained the first fresh meat they'd had in months. On the march, grains and lentils were the normal order of the day, with all of their meat salted and dried. She hurried up to their decanus so his food wouldn't get cold before he had the chance to eat it. Eirlys scampered up the steps after her. The girl was much stronger and faster than she had been, now that she was eating regularly.

Sallustius was looking over the valley, frowning slightly. He looked away from the view when he heard their approach. The sight of food prompted a smile. "About damn time," he said, taking his bowl carefully to avoid spilling it.

"All quiet?" Helva asked lightly.

"Seems that way," the decanus grunted, his frown returning. "Something doesn't feel right."

It was a comment that worried Helva, mostly because she trusted his judgment implicitly. Sallustius's gut was an oracle beyond compare. "Maybe it's just being so near the border?"

"Maybe," he said before shoveling food into his mouth about as fast as he was able.

Helva did the same, not too keen on wasting rations if there would be a fight. She looked over the valley beside Sallustius. It was a pretty night, at least, with the last embers of sunset dying on the horizon. It was a new moon which meant an inky sky, but the lights of the city seemed undimmed. Somewhere further west, the River Adrana formed the border between the dominions of Divine Prince Gabriel and their master, Divine Prince Michael. The constant warring within the Imperium, carefully orchestrated and managed by the gods, meant that a soldier could expect battle even when within Imperial territory. The outer wall seemed quiet.

Eirlys sat down cross-legged, humming contently. Music always seemed to make their foundling happy, not that there was a lot in the encampment other than the cadences. She had adapted to that by making her own.