Chapter IV - What have we gotten ourselves into?

'It will only be four years since the last tribal war ended.'

Nevio Pérsico, like others of his time, had participated in the conflicts against the tribes side by side with his fathers and grandfathers.

"Today, the thirty-first day of the eighth month of five hundred and eight, our glorious basileus, Cassius Maximus, initiates military intervention to the tribes that border our Holy Empire!"

These were the words pronounced that year by a town crier in the central square of Raecum.

That phrase marked the beginning of an era that would last six decades, spanning three generations of most of the families of the Empire. 

After that event, the Senate and the councils held a series of talks with which they tried to establish an era of pax.

However, with Philipart....

Crásico went to the town crier.

And Nevio, sighing and fearful for the future of the Empire, left on the table two darios for the drink; and took a last look at the magister, who seemed to be scolding the herald.

Lost in thought, he rose to his feet, and made his way to the exit to fulfill what had been asked of him.

Ireólogo wall, Asians

Last days of the second week of the first month of 576.

From the top of the tower he could admire the camp that was located next to the wall.

Thanks to the glow of the moon, I could see the concern on the faces of the soldiers and inhabitants.

They were tearing up newspapers, sweating, trembling and crying, fearful of being called to arms; not against some enemy tribe or nation, but against their own brothers.

"So it is true what they say," he leaned his elbows on the railing, leaning his hips back.

"You didn't quite believe it, my lord?"

The guard had gone to look for him in order to make him aware of a man who had come to the village looking for him.

However, when he went upstairs, he found a scene that could be described as... melancholic.

Adrijo Dusa -his lord and the man in charge of Ireólogo-, was with his hands folded and his gaze fixed on the heavens, standing on a corner of the platform; the moon's brightness collided with his face, reflecting in his beautiful blue eyes.

"No, I thought it was all one of those dirty tactics that newspapers use to make more money, generating morbid curiosity in people. But, not long ago, after the news reached us, I received a letter signed by the Senate informing me of the impending war."

Sighing, he took out a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to the guard.

"There you have it, do what you want with it."

"Wouldn't it be better for you to keep it?" With hesitation, he raised his hand and took the letter.

"The truth doesn't interest me," he left the railing, and turned to the sentry so he could confront his station there. "Excuse me, shouldn't you be on guard duty?"

The boy put the letter in one of his pockets, remembering what it came for, glancing at the man to announce the good news, hoping to cheer him up a bit.

"The praefectus Nevio Pérsico has presented himself at the camp dining hall, requesting, my lord."

A smile formed on Adrijo's lips.

"Thank you," he began to approach the stairs, to which, he rested a hand on the guard's shoulder, "you did well, rest tonight, you earned it. I'll see you tomorrow," calmer, he gave a slight nod of his head.

After that, he came down from the tower.

The camp was filled with rejoicing as the praefectus Pérsico was received.

He was known for the large donations he gave for the reinforcement of the Ireólogo wall, and, the improvement of the quality of life of the villagers.

"So the intervention had to be cancelled," he placed his elbow on the table, resting his head on his hand.

With droopy eyes, he scanned Nevio's tired expression, who was shakily sipping a glass of wine.

"Sadly, yes, but I think it was for the best."

"Why do you say that?" He straightened up, curious to hear how Crásico's subordinate said it was good that Crásico's operation had been canceled.

Such confessions were rare to hear.

"You see Mazhira... The magister has had a hard time believing that the tribes have grown stronger. I had to go so far as to bribe them to stop attacking Seguno."

He set the cup down on the table, gazing into it.

"The intervention would have turned into a full-scale military conflict. In other words, which means the return of tribal warfare...."

"Already!" He interrupted him abruptly. "I understand, no need to talk or remember that time, please."

Silence reigned over them.

Nevio remained fixed on the table, as if he was remembering everything he experienced in those dark years; Mazhira was twisting her lip, examining the man's body, and thinking of some new topic of conversation to dissuade the discomfort that had invaded the atmosphere.

 "Nevio Pérsico!" Adrijo entered the dining room, hands outstretched, greeting everyone with a look full of brightness.

'How quickly he changes his attitude,' thought the guard who had given him the news, looking at him from afar.

The shout brought Pérsico out of his thoughts, who turned to Adrijo.

"Apparently you've already met Mazhira Asiático," he took a seat next to Nevio, patting him on the shoulder. "Being Urso's brother, he offered to come on his behalf to inspect the state of the Ireólogo wall. Which, thanks to me, and, to the donations of nearby praefectus, like you, my friend, is in a perfect state."

"I am glad to hear that you have been doing well," he nodded his head repeatedly, unable to disguise the weary expression on his face. "Forgive me for not getting so excited, but I'm not in the mood. I add that... I am not here to chat, my friend."

In other circumstances he would have felt hurt, however, when he saw Nevio's distressed face, he could sense that something good was not happening.

"Mazhira, can you leave us alone?" Adrijo looked sideways at the man, who, without hesitation, accepted his request. "Now speak, I'm all ears."

Pérsico swallowed and took a last sip of his drink.

"I suppose you know what happened with Philipart," he didn't look at him.

Adrijo nodded.

"I was asked to keep an eye out for further orders regarding the handling of the wall," Dusa leaned her head on her hand, believing in a vague way that the conversation would be long.

"I have been sent to give you the orders you are to follow."

At last he turned to Adrijo, fixing his greenish eyes on the man.

His words generated genuine interest in Dusa, who, as Mazhira had done, straightened up and prepared to pay careful attention to his next words.

"By orders of magister Crásico," Adrijo's face paled at the name, "the gates of Ireólogo are to be closed indefinitely. No one from Oriens may cross to Asians, nor may anyone from Asians cross to Orien...."

"I refuse," he did not let him finish. "He may be the magister, but he does not have the power to order something like that," he got up from his seat with the intention of leaving. "If that's all, I'll take my leave. I wish you good luck on your journey, my friend."

"Stop!" He stopped him as he came out of the little trance he was in. "Crásico has risen up rebelliously!"

His shout echoed throughout the camp.

The most curious ones rushed to the dining room, hoping that what they had heard was a joke in very bad taste on Persico's part to make Dusa obey the order.

"What are yo-you sa-saying?" Adrijo turned to him with trembling eyes. "Stop playing games!"

"It's no game! It's what you heard! The magister Crásico has proclaimed himself a rebel against the Senate!" He faced him after getting up. "And woe betide you if you refuse his orders! You'll face his armies!"

"I can't believe you sided with him, how could you! You know very well what he did during the tribal wars!" Looking at him with contempt, she scolded him, pointing her finger at him. "He took away our close ones!"

"And that matters now?! Don't be immature and impose your personal problems on a situation as serious as this!"

He paused, trying to come to his senses before saying things he might regret.

"He thanks me for my services, as if I hadn't put a dagger in my neck. Believe me! Both you and me, my friend! We are obliged to take part in this shit."

"And who's forcing me?!" He challenged, approaching Nevio in a challenging manner.

"The legio I brought with me!"

His eyes, like eggs rolled at hearing that.

"Wha-what?

"Come in!"

At his shout, countless footsteps and groans from the villagers began to sound outside the camp.

A large number of soldiers entered the dining hall, surrounding everyone present; Adrijo in particular.

"Beli-believe me it's-it hurts me more than it hurts you."

His eyes got wet when he saw the deception with which Dusa was looking at him.

"Forgive me... Ple-please, don't make it more difficult. Follow orders, I beg you."

Adrijo's eyes flooded with tears as he listened to the pain with which Pérsico spoke, he was not doing this because he wanted to, he was being forced.

With no other options, he nodded his head, accepting the yoke of Crásico.

Then he turned around, and before leaving, he spoke to him like this:

"Go to my tent, there we can chat more calmly."

The soldiers opened the way for him, and, without further ado, he left the dining room.

With his eyes watering and his jaw trembling, he climbed to the top of the tower where he was, where, in a loud voice, he asked for the attention of the guards guarding the entrances.

"¡At the request of the magister Crásico," he began, "all the gates of the wall are to be closed indefinitely!" The astonished looks of his men fell on him like a whip, and with his chest aching, he finished: "Do not let anyone from Oriens cross to Asians, nor anyone from Asians cross to Oriens! Whoever disobeys will be executed!"