Stiger’s Tigers (Chronicles of An Imperial Legionary Officer Book 1) (16 page)

“What of the prisoners?” Sergeant Blake asked.

Stiger thought about it for a moment, looking over at the prisoners across the camp, who were under armed guard. There were twelve of them, sitting down, with their arms tied securely behind their backs. They were dirty and dressed in near rags. Stiger figured most had been local farmers at one time, at least until the legions had arrived to put down the rebellion. He had seen this cycle before. Men driven from their homes, wives raped and killed, farms burned … With nothing left, they had turned to banditry. If he took them along, he would have to feed and provide a guard for them.

The prisoners knew the penalty for banditry, which would mean he could reasonably expect an escape attempt. Such an attempt might put his legionaries at risk. Under such circumstances, taking them along to Vrell was not really an option. The prisoners were dead men and they knew it.

“Execute them,” he ordered, his voice sounding harsh in his own ears. “Organize a detail and get it done immediately.”

Ikely glanced uncomfortably at Father Thomas. The paladin said nothing, but looked on impassively. In fact, Father Thomas had expected such an order from the captain. The High Father allowed all men free will. No matter who they had been previously, the prisoners had chosen a life of banditry.

“Do you have anything to add, Father Thomas?” Stiger asked, having caught the lieutenant’s look.

“No, Captain,” Father Thomas said after a long moment. A sad expression crossed his face. “I do not.”

“These men killed legionaries and conspired with the enemy,” Stiger growled, addressing the sergeants and lieutenant. Stiger felt it was important that he was clear with them. “Whether and how we suspect they were driven to this life is irrelevant. They are bandits. There is one penalty for banditry, and that penalty is death. They either die here or at Vrell. They know this, and that makes them desperate. I will not risk any of my men to these animals, who will be looking for any chance to grab a weapon in a careless moment and escape their punishment. They die now and quick, which is better than the scum deserve.”

“Yes sir,” Sergeant Ranl said, having heard enough. He stood, as did Blake. He was in complete agreement with his captain and saluted sharply. “I will see to the detail myself.”

Sergeant Ranl turned and with Blake following, walked off in the direction of the prisoners, leaving Stiger alone with Lieutenant Ikely and Father Thomas. Stiger watched them go. He hated having to order executions. It was something that had to be done. There were no regrets. Their ghosts would not be visiting him during lonely moments. The prisoners meant nothing to him. These men had more than earned their fate, and he hoped they burned for it.

“Would you mind if I hear their sins and provide last rites to the condemned?” Father Thomas asked after a moment’s silence.

“If you wish to ease their transition to the next world,” Stiger said quietly, with a shrug, “I have no objection.”

“Thank you, Captain,” Father Thomas said, clapping a comforting hand on Stiger’s shoulder as he stood. “I suspect, at heart, that you are a good man.”

Stiger frowned, watching the paladin walk away in the direction of the prisoners. He looked over at Ikely, who was smiling stupidly at his captain.

“Shouldn’t you be seeing to the captured supplies and equipment?” Stiger growled.

“Uh … yes sir.” Lieutenant Ikely stood, smile still plastered on his face.

Stiger was left alone with his thoughts. His duty was not always pleasant. As a legionary captain and a Stiger, he had a responsibility to the empire. Sentiment was rarely a consideration. Turning away from the prisoners, the captain looked in the direction of the road and wondered what exactly was waiting for them at Castle Vrell.

Thirteen

“Believe it or not, at one time a road ran through here,” Eli announced, having abruptly stopped. They had left the camp almost five hours before, heading deep into the forest. The trees were old, nearly all hard woods that grew extremely tall, aspiring ever skyward to catch as much sunlight as possible. The canopy of leaves far above their heads was so thick, very little direct sunlight ever reached the forest floor, which was covered with the previous season’s leaves and thick carpets of green moss. Stiger stopped and looked up. They had been following the elf up a very steep hill and had been moving at a good pace. In fact, for the past hour the elf had been leading them from one hill to another, each one seemingly higher than the last. Eli had set a punishing pace and they were all winded. Like Father Thomas, the captain had left his horse behind.

“Really?” Father Thomas asked, having also stopped, with hands on his hips as he caught his breath. The paladin looked about, turning in a complete circle. He could discern no pattern in the forest that would indicate that there had ever been a road through here. “I don’t see it.”

Stiger studied the surrounding terrain carefully. He too could find nothing that suggested a road. It must have been a very old one, judging by how there was no longer any ready evidence of said road. The four legionaries accompanying them—James, Todd, Beck and Starnes—seemed just as baffled.

“This tree,” Eli said, and patted it affectionately as if it were an old friend. “This tree is much younger than any of the others eight feet that way. Imagine for a moment that where I am standing was once the roadside. If you look in the direction we are traveling, all of the trees in a direct line leading that way,” Eli pointed up the hill, “are younger and somewhat slimmer than the others further out into the forest. Look back and you will notice the same. The younger trees snake through the older ones.”

Stiger frowned, studying the trees carefully. Eyes widening, he realized the trees Eli indicated were indeed slightly slimmer. The bark also had a different hue and appearance than the older trees just a few feet away. It was so obvious he was surprised he had missed it. Then again, they had been moving hard and fast.

“I believe these were intentionally planted,” Eli continued. “In another thirty or forty years, it would have been much more difficult to spot the telltale signs. The roadside embankments were also leveled. They did not do such a good job at that. If you look closely in some places, you can see remains of the embankments.”

“You are saying someone intentionally destroyed the road?” Father Thomas asked, intrigued.

“I am.” Eli flashed a quick smile full of needle-sharp teeth. “Someone went to a lot of trouble to remove any evidence this road ever existed.”

“How did you manage to find this, sir?” Legionary Starnes ventured to ask, amazed.

“I have spent many years in the forests of my homeland,” Eli explained, as if it should be common knowledge. “We are an old people, and reading the history of the land becomes second nature; almost instinctual, if you will.”

“Reading the history of the land?” Starnes asked, confused. He could not read, but knew others marked symbols on parchment and stone that meant something.

“Eli,” Stiger interrupted. His friend was never shy about explaining the abilities of his people when given the opportunity. The last of the elder races, elves considered themselves superior in every way and never hesitated to say so. “Where did the road go?”

Eli pointed in the direction they had just come. “It travels right back to the road to Vrell, surprisingly running through the destroyed village and bandit camp.”

“Who would destroy a road?” Stiger asked, baffled.

“That’s a very good question,” Father Thomas said with genuine interest. “I am pleased I came along. I find such mysteries fascinating.”

“Judging by the height of these trees,” Stiger said, looking up at the canopy, “the destruction of the road must have been completed … what … over a hundred years ago?”

“More like one hundred and fifty,” Eli supplied, flashing another one of his clever smiles as he affectionately patted the tree again. “These are old fellows, but the others are much older. This forest is ancient. If I had time, I would welcome the opportunity to listen to its voice.”

“There is no time for that,” Stiger asserted, knowing what was involved with such a communion. Elves were tied to the land in ways a human could never fully appreciate. The captain could ill afford to lose Eli for a week or two.

“I know,” Eli sighed deeply. “She has been calling to me …”

“Why go to all that effort?” Stiger asked, looking back at Eli. “What are they trying to hide?”

“Climb to the top of the hill with me and have a look on the other side,” Eli said with another self-satisfied smirk. He pointed to the top of the hill. Stiger frowned. His friend was really enjoying himself.

Father Thomas and the legionaries looked at Stiger for a moment and then scrambled forward up the steep rise of the hill. The captain followed, just as eager to see what Eli had found. The crest of the hill was, in reality, a ridge overlooking a small tree-choked valley, which dropped out steeply beneath them.

A road abruptly emerged before them and traveled down into the heart of the valley. Whoever had destroyed the road had stopped at the crest.

But that wasn’t the most amazing thing that greeted the small party. A massive white marble building dominated the center of the valley. It reached toward the sky, almost stretching to the surrounding ridges. The structure spoke of magnificence and power. Stiger felt it looked very similar to one of the grand temples in Mel’Zeel, the capitol of the empire. Oddly, the building had a very imperial look to it, but at the same time something spoke of a different origin.

“Very unexpected,” Father Thomas breathed in awe as the sun broke free of a cloud and illuminated the building in all of its magnificence. “I say this is terribly unexpected.”

“I thought so as well,” Eli admitted. Stiger felt that was an understatement. To build something so majestic in such a remote location was an impressive feat, he thought.

“Is anyone down there?” Stiger asked, looking for any signs of life in the tree-choked valley. Through the canopy of leaves, he could see no other buildings or smoke that would indicate someone had a fire going. Smoke was an ever-present sign of settlement or civilization.

“The valley is not settled,” Eli stated firmly. “No one lives here.”

“Someone,” Stiger said, marveling at what Eli had discovered, “went to a lot of work to hide this valley. What is so important that they would build this here?”

“Allow me show you,” Eli said, leading them quickly down the ridge and stepping onto the road. The others followed him. The clay-based road was in surprisingly good shape for its age, and in a few minutes brought the small party down into the heart of the valley.

“Who built this?” Stiger asked in awe as they approached the massive structure, which seemed to grow taller and more imposing the closer they got.

“Dwarves,” Eli answered lightly, flashing another one of his devious smiles. “And I think perhaps humans helped.”

“Dwarves?” Stiger stopped in his tracks, shocked by the statement. Had he heard his friend right? Dwarves were mythical creatures; a race of legend and tale. Like gnomes, they simply did not exist.

“I assure you, dwarves are very real,” Eli replied, stopping also, a twinkle in his eye as he winked at his friend.

“They are?” Legionary James asked in astonishment. “My mother used to tell us stories …”

“Of course,” Eli responded and started walking again.

“How do you know?” James asked, brow furrowed, as he followed. Stiger started moving as well.

“Many years ago, I saw several,” Eli offered, leaving Stiger and Father Thomas to share a startled glance. The legionaries looked to Stiger for confirmation. Stiger shrugged.

As they neared the building, the forest fell back, revealing a series of gardens, composed of wild plants, which ran around the building. The gardens looked maintained and not overgrown, as would have been expected. The road led through the gardens to the building. Hundreds of marble steps led upward to a grand set of double doors. Everything about the structure was imposing, impressive and magnificent. The party stood, looking up in awe, feeling very small.

“This looks like the Temple of Hirya in the capitol,” Father Thomas said in a hushed tone. Hirya was the daughter of the God of War, and dedicated to healing.

“It does,” Stiger agreed. As a child he had gone to the temple to make regular devotions with his father. The building was very similar. Many thousands of workers would have been required to erect this, he realized. Where had they come from? Where had they gone? Stiger knew he was missing something important. Then a thought occurred to him.

“Eli, I thought you said there was no one in the valley?”

“As far as I can determine, there is no one about,” Eli confirmed.

“Then,” Stiger asked, pointing about, “who maintains these gardens?”

“That is an interesting question,” Eli responded. “Who indeed?”

“What lies inside?” Father Thomas asked, looking up the great row of steps leading up to the sealed doors.

“That is what the captain must see,” Eli stated firmly. The elf stepped forward and placed a foot on the first step. He looked over meaningfully at Stiger, as if daring him to follow, and then turned, beginning the steep climb. Stiger watched his enigmatic friend for a moment before Father Thomas caught his eye. The paladin began to follow Eli. Sighing, Stiger began the long climb, his legionaries following a few steps behind.

The doors to the entrance were massive. There were no hinges on the outside, which meant that they opened inward. They were constructed of a heavy, steel-plated shod, that had a dull, ancient look. There was writing on the door in a script that Stiger had never seen before.

“Dwarvish,” Eli announced, noticing the captain’s look. “And yes, I am sure.”

“I don’t suppose you can read it?” the paladin asked hopefully.

“I can,” Eli admitted, with a slight trace of smugness.

“However did you learn Dwarvish?” Father Thomas asked curiously.

“He likely found himself bored to tears one day and decided it was time to learn something new,” Stiger said before Eli could manage an answer. “Elves have a lot of time on their hands. Am I incorrect?”

“Close enough,” Eli admitted.

“Well?” Stiger asked, a little impatiently, when Eli said nothing further. “What does it say?”

“Unity, Honor and Friendship,” Eli read rather dramatically.

“That is a little cryptic,” Stiger growled, frowning. “Don’t you think?”

Eli offered another of his devious little smiles. He leaned forward and pushed on one of the doors. Silently, as if freshly oiled, the door swung inward. A dark corridor, seemingly cut right into the stone, greeted them. Sconces lined the walls every few feet and disappeared into the darkness of the building. Eli stepped forward, and with a startling suddenness, the sconces flared to life, bathing the corridor in light.

“Magic,” one of the legionaries breathed, taking a step backward and making the holy sign of the High Father.

“Indeed,” Father Thomas agreed, looking rather impressed. Magic was rare. It was extremely unusual to find a wizard who was willing to use his craft for something as mundane as providing magical lighting.

“This way,” Eli said, turning back to them briefly before starting off down the corridor. True magic was extremely expensive, as it was hard to find a mage willing to sell his services. It was rare to see magic used in such a manner.

Eli turned, beckoning the party forward. Stiger followed, knowing that if there had been anything to fear Eli would have said something. Father Thomas moved forward next, with the legionaries bringing up the rear, muttering prayers to their various gods.

Eli led them through the corridor, which looked completely dust-free to Stiger, though the building had an old feel to it. The party emerged into a grand, rectangular-shaped room typical of the important temples in the capitol, designed to shock and amaze at the same time. Two massive rows of majestic white marble columns, at least six feet wide at the base, reached upward to the ceiling sixty feet above. Between the two rows of columns lay a rich blue carpet that stretched out the length of the incredible room. Great, intricate metal chandeliers hung from the ceiling. These blazed with a whitish magical light that bathed the interior and accentuated the polished white marble columns and stone walls. The magic lighting drove back all shadows. Stiger was even startled to see that his shadow and those of his men were gone.

The group stood for a few moments, staring in awe at the grandeur of the room before them. The blue carpet led down to some kind of an altar at the far end of the room. Eli started down the carpet without a word or look back. Stiger and the others followed.

“Is that what I think it is?” Stiger asked when they were within a few feet of the altar, which he realized was actually a sarcophagus. Lying on the sarcophagus was a wooden pole with a golden eagle attached to the end of it. Next to the eagle was an imperial legionary sword sheathed in an ornate blue casing. The sword and golden eagle lay on top of a folded rich blue cloak. Blue cloaks were typically worn by legionary generals. The captain could not take his eyes off the eagle.

“This is most unexpected,” Father Thomas said, eying the captain carefully.

“An imperial eagle!” Legionary Starnes exclaimed excitedly. “There is a 13 stamped on it!”

“The Vanished!” Legionary Beck breathed in awe. “Sir … you have found the 13
^th
Legion!”

Stiger shook his head in disbelief. He could not believe what was before him. In his wildest dreams he would never have imagined finding the lost legion’s eagle.

“Here lies the honorable General Delvaris,” Eli read from the strange Dwarvish writing etched into the side of the sarcophagus. Stiger had not noticed it until Eli began reading. There was an etching of legionaries fighting alongside a group of short, squat people with long braided beards. “This tomb stands in memorial, as a place of honor to the legionaries of 13
^th
Legion, who fought alongside the Clans. The Ironbound Clan holds this imperial eagle in sacred trust, until such time as it can be returned. Only one of sufficient blood may retrieve and return the legion’s honor.”