Chapter V - Will you oppose me?

Hamlia, Oriens

Year 565

"I have witnessed your prowess on the battlefield and your military ingenuity, something rarely seen these days, soldier Crásico."

The general of the IX Skiro and XII Jearo, Iqab bin Saif, coming from the nearby areas of Araquia, made the decision to bring Canrrio to Hamlia, requesting a meeting with the leader of the village.

"I guess praising me is not your goal in bringing me here, is it?" He asked wearily, as if the man's words were boring him.

He took an upright posture, clasping his hands behind his back vaguely.

"Why such promptness, young man?" Fortimbrio was graced by the presuras of Crásico, who frowned at this way, vulgar to himself, of referring to him.

Iqab smiled at the support he had received.

"Soldier, I have brought you here to let you know that..." He raised a hand, touching him on the shoulder, "you will be appointed consul of IX Skiro."

Crásico's eyes opened wide.

It was the opportunity he had been waiting for since he enlisted in the war.

'They were already taking their time,' he thought.

"I appreciate it," he bowed his head, "I've done my best to stand out from my peers, trying to prove that a soldier needs not only brute strength, but also ingenuity."

"And you are quite right, which is why I have brought you before him."

Iqab turned to the old man at the desk, pointing a finger at him.

"Monsignor Fortimbrio Hario, leader of Hamlia, a very learned man who will be able to advise you well."

"So you brought me all the way here just to be given words of encouragement?" He let out a mumbled groan.

"And you have done well," he rose from his seat, and with gala he walked towards Crásico, "remember, young man of mind, you are, for you have had no experience. That is why you are still green, and I am in charge of guiding you and blessing you so that you are ready to face the fray."

Crásico twisted his head.

Trying to understand his words, he meditated for a moment.

"You will understand better if you let me work on mine," he raised his hand, and placed it on the young man's forehead. "Go on, turn your vision blind, and listen to me carefully.

'Blind? Does he want me to close my eyes?' thought Crásico with a displeased grimace at the colloquial way Hario spoke.

After that, he tried doing as he was asked, turning his sight blind, and ducking his head.

"Nintu," with paternity now his expression, Fortimbrio began: "strip thy hand for my convict and disbeliever in spirit. With caprice I conceive that thou wilt with good thy will dominate my recent bisoño alienated. And by the cares won of thy love, from infamy hold this praised swain of mine from infamy."

Lugrum, capital of Asians

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

The moon was already at its highest point of that unfortunate night. The smell of tobacco, which delicately caressed his nose, pervaded the atmosphere.

Sitting on a small bench, on his balcony, already worn out by time, he wandered his gaze across the skies, as if he were searching, from among all the stars, for the way to face the problems that were presenting themselves to him.

'I don't know what to do anymore,' he thought, heaving a smoky sigh.

The tribal wars ended in five hundred and seventy-two. And it was for the best to a certain extent, for, just two years later, the tribes established in the Regio Inexplorata, which until then had remained peaceful, began a fierce attack on the northeastern populations of Asians.

And to Urso's chagrin, the Senate was unwilling to start a full-scale war again. So, being praefectus of Lugrum, capital of Asians, he was given the responsibility of stabilizing the borders of Asians.

"For the Nintu!" He shouted in the center of the room, in the Yiretia Curia, in front of all his advisors after having discussed the moves they would make against the tribes.

That phrase had become his moral motto.

Seeing that the only thing that military interventions did was to infuriate the tribes more, he acted with bribes, giving beneficiary tributes, free education and citizenship grants.

He tried everything to stop them from attacking the region.

He became so desperate that he decided to marry two of his daughters to two of the tribal leaders: Requilo and Franmundo.

Some time later he would learn that both Eva and Lilith were tortured and raped to death in a series of pagan rituals.

At his residence, at a time when he was distraught at not receiving news of his daughters, he received a box containing their naked torsos.

Their breasts were cut off as were their limbs. The skin was stained and stained in finish.

At the same time, a note with some words that, from that moment on, would be tormenting him: [Your celibate pulps of the finest were, to have occasion that you consign us others.]

"My beloved ones..."

His eyes grew moist, as he saw two stars, the brightest of all, as he remembered how his daughters adored watching the stars

"Ple-please for-forgive me, how was I to know?" He gritted his teeth, clenching his head with one hand, letting bitter tears slide down his scarred cheeks.

Guilt consumed him day by day.

His wife disowned him with all her being, doing her best not to be with him.

And his children despised him to the point of changing their last name to that of their mother.

All except for...

"Dad?"

'Azura!'

He wiped away his tears at the sound of the voice of the youngest of his offspring.

She was a beauty with gradient eyes from aquamarine to light greenish, carrying in her pink streaked brown hair a delicate ribbon.

The man tried to take a serious stance, placing the tobacco in his mouth, and, returning his gaze to the starry sky.

However, to her bad luck, she was sensitive to people's expressions and actions, she was astute.

"You were crying, weren't you?" Gently, she approached him, hugging him from behind, sinking her face into his sturdy body.

Undoubtedly, he was the one she adored the most.

She cared for him not only out of genuine love, but also out of fear that he would commit suicide given all that he had lost.

"You are the only thing I have left," Urso began, accepting his bitter feelings, dropping his tobacco. "Please... don't leave me too," he clung to Azura's arms, not wanting to let her go.

True, he was praefectus and leader of the council of Lugrum, he had five legions under his command. But hardly anyone respected him anymore, nor his armies, because of his constant failures against the tribes, they only waited anxiously for him to die so that the power would change hands.

"I won't do it, don't worry," she looked up, and planted a kiss on his head.

More tears welled up in his eyes at the unconditional affection he was receiving.

"Why?" Sobbing came from between her teeth. "Why do you still love me despite everything that happened?"

She did not answer.

Apart from not knowing how to explain her genuine love, she understood that he was only saying that because he was overwhelmed.

"Wha-what ar-are you doing here?" Calmer, he wiped away his tears, resuming his posture and breaking away from the embrace.

"A man wants to talk to you."

Hearing that hurt.

Not because he had to receive someone in the state he was in, but because he could see how far the general hatred towards him had reached: the guards did not want to see him, sending their daughter to give him warnings.

"Ma-Make him come in, then."

She straightened up, depositing another kiss on him, to which, after turning away, he withdrew.

Urso stood up, approaching the railing to lean against it, gazing out over the darkened town.

Not long ago, there, from on high, he received the euphoric shouts of the people, acclaiming and loving him.

"Praefectus Urso Asiático."

A voice was heard behind him.

Hearing that unmistakable tone, unable to believe it, he burst out laughing.

"Magister Crásico," he turned his back to the man in the suit who was looking at him with a defiant expression. "I think I know what you're getting at... please get to the point."

"Then you know."

"Yes, a town crier spread the news that, the magister Crásico declared himself against the Senate! As if Afriki wasn't enough already.

'Fuck, I thought he was talking Philipart,' he thought, 'well, I'll save myself the explanations.'

"I guess he wants me to be in favor of his plans against the Senate, right?"

Crásico had no choice but to go straight to the point.

"True, I want to know whose side he's on."

"On neither," he said.

He picked up the tobacco from the floor

"I prefer to remain neutral, to mind my own business. I have enough to do with the Regio Inexplorata without getting involved in a civil war. I'll keep my hands off, so you can kill each other without a problem," he brought the tobacco to his mouth, smoking it.

Crásico stared at him, his eyes narrowed.

He even felt offended by Urso's calmness: his eyes closed and his waist resting on the railing. He was confident.

"Look... there's nothing to stop me from taking his post, or, like, throwing him off the railing."

"And why don't you do it?" He opened his eyes, watching him out of the corner of her eye.

"Because you are useful to me."

He took a few steps, approaching Urso while holding his hands behind his back,

"Despite being a failure in trying to achieve pax with the tribes, you have managed to keep them at bay, proving that you at least have a head for a good defense."

He paused.

"That is why I want him to voluntarily abdicate his position as praefectus."

Urso blinked repeatedly, processing Crásico's words carefully.

"Ah? I don't understand... First he insults me, then that I have the wit to defend myself, and now he tells me that he wants me to resign? I mean, I have no problem, but I don't understand what one thing has to do with the other."

He threw away the spent tobacco.

"You don't want to lose Azura, she's a pretty young girl.

"Don't even think about it," from the sleeve of his arm he pulled out a dagger, which he wielded tightly.

Crásico raised his hands, taking two steps back.

"Quiet, all you have to do is serve me, and your daughter will go unpunished."

"And how do you want me to serve you?" He lowered the edge of the dagger, resuming a normal posture, still distrustful.

"You will relinquish your title as praefectus, so that I can place in the post someone else in accordance with... my ideas. At the same time, you will accept the title of marchio, with which you will be in charge of the Marca Polarucia, a buffer territory we created as a barrier between Asians and the Regio Inexplorata."

He put his hands in his pockets, smiling to give his confidence.

The idea was tempting, he wouldn't have to worry about keeping the capital stable or subsidizing the villagers with food baskets because of the shortages generated by the bad weather and the attacks.

"You won't involve me in the war, will you?" He kept the dagger in his sleeve, taking a few steps towards Crásico.

"Not at all, just don't let the tribes cross Asians."

Urso nodded his head repeatedly, no doubt, he was convincing him.

"Anything else besides that? And... My daughter... Can she come with me?"

He could not conceive the idea of being away from her.

"No, only that you must cede your legions to me. New ones await you in Polarucia. And yes, Azura can accompany you, but their care remains in your hands."

Both men looked at each other, showing in their eyes the emotions they felt:

Crásico, a strange confidence and security to get what he wanted; Urso, overwhelm and fear of not being able to take advantage of this new opportunity that was presenting itself to regain his reputation.

"All right, magister Crásico, tomorrow I will announce my abdication, and you had better keep your word!"

"So it shall be done."

And they both shook hands tightly, transmitting a cloudy energy from the fusion of their adverse emotions.