B2 Chapter 35: Truce or Dare

Tiberius took in the sight of the siege engines with pride. Their arsenal truly had become a sight to behold. On top of the scorpions, ballistae, and catapults, there were also trebuchets and massive siege towers tall enough to assault even the most impressive walls. He even saw several other prototype inventions that would have just been impractical in their old world.

In all honesty, fielding these weapons was probably not entirely necessary. But seeing them perform in the field and gauging their effectiveness was incredibly important. Besides, even if they could take the city without them, such tools would hopefully minimize Roman casualties. Assuming, of course, that Quintus hadn’t already finished the job by the time they arrived.

A messenger led the lead engineer to Tiberius before excusing himself. The engineer was a tawny man with wiry limbs who stood relatively tall among Legionnaires. But despite his stature, Tiberius knew he was anything but weak. He’d seen him single-handedly load trebuchets before, and with a speed that rivaled some of their more middling teams.

The man saluted. “Legatus. You wanted to see me?”

“Indeed. It’s time to put your men’s creations to work, Cornelius.”

Cornelius’s eyes flashed with interest. “Truly? We’ll be taking them into the field?” At Tiberius’s nod, the man grinned broadly. “Excellent. I will assemble our best teams. May I interest you in a tour, so that you can see what we’re working with?”

Tiberius gestured for the man to proceed. Cornelius turned on his heel and led the way forward with a spring in his step. He led the Legatus and his entourage to the first of the weapons, what appeared to be an altered scorpion.

“We’ll start with the Scorpio. It functions much the same as what the men are used to. But as you can see, we have taken a few liberties with the design…”

Cornelius began to explain in great detail the men’s creations. Skills used during construction allowed their engineers to accomplish all sorts of incredible feats. Beams could hold greater loads while pivots and joints were able to move with less friction. They could launch heavier projectiles farther and quicker than ever before.

Several designs that had only been dreams before now saw life breathed into them. Even the arrow thrower seemed much more practical now than ever before. The tension in the bent board that slapped the back of the arrows all at once allowed for them to actually hit ranges that would be effective compared to normal archers. And with certain skills very specifically tailored to loading the weapons, they could be fired at nearly two or three times the rate.

Such innovations were everywhere. And that was just with basic training. After some use in combat, the teams manning the siege weapons would likely be able to wreak havoc over a battlefield in truly divine proportions.

Of course, Tiberius was well aware of most of this. He’d read the reports and even seen some of the tests. But seeing it all firsthand made him a bit more eager to see them in action.

Once the excitable engineer had finished his presentation, Tiberius nodded. “Very well. Prepare any battle-ready siege engines to move at first light, along with crews for each. You may also send a select few prototypes, provided they will not slow our march overmuch.”

“Understood. If it pleases you, Legatus…” The lanky engineer straightened. “Might I be permitted to accompany you to the siege? In order to take notes on these field tests.”

“You may.” He agreed easily. Though it may be better to keep Cornelius working on designs and building more engines here, having him at the battle would be a great boon. It may also improve the quality of future designs.

“Excellent!” The man beamed. “I’ll see to the preparations right away.”

“Do so. You are dismissed, Cornelius.”

With that taken care of, Tiberius finally headed into the camp itself. He had one last concern to deal with. The matter of what to do with the captured enemy combatants.

He had a few options before him. Usually, such people would become slaves or laborers, with some of the more valuable ones being ransomed off. He could also simply execute them as examples to any who would resist their conquest. Such things were standard practice. However, given their current situation, Tiberius wasn’t entirely sure if that was the best move.

Right now, the Legion’s biggest problem was a lack of manpower. Not in the combat department, of course. Their problem lay in the resources and population of their budding empire.

Rome’s legions were used to having a complicated logistics hub behind them. Usually, they were deployed into a province and spread throughout its area to work on construction projects, provide protection, and so on unless they needed to march.

Under such a system, supplies and basic necessities for the Legion were provided by the provinces and their populations. Even much of the armor and weapons they used came from blacksmiths and craftsmen back home, with the Legion themselves being mostly responsible for repairs. But they lacked that support network here.

The fact was that they simply didn’t have enough people populating their empire. And while Tiberius did not want to entrust all responsibilities to the local populations, especially not with the great strides in smithing his men had made under Gareth’s tutelage—it would be foolish to continue doing everything themselves.

Making these people slaves was another issue. Even if Tiberius did want to treat these prisoners as such, the people they had conquered were far too few in number to manage such a large slave population, assuming they could be trusted to do so. They were all former citizens of Novara, after all. The Legion could also take some with them on the march, but with how quickly they moved now it might do more harm than good.

That didn’t mean the enemy combatants would get off too easily, however. After a few years of hard labor, perhaps they would be given the ability to join the auxiliaries and work toward citizenship. But in the meantime, he thought that the best course of action may well be to simply rule over these people after they’d done their time.

He was aware that many of those under his command would consider him soft, but Tiberius was inclined towards leniency. He still felt that burning coal of anger at those who would dare move against his men sitting in the pit of his stomach. But he would not let emotion rule him. Not when there was so much more at stake.

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And so, he ordered a barracks to be built for the prisoners. He doubted any of them would actually become proper citizens even after their sentences were finished. He wasn’t particularly inclined to expedite the process, either, as he suspected these men lacked the proper mindset to be Roman. But he would ensure that the option was there if anyone surprised him. Eventually.

The sun had already disappeared below the horizon by the time Tiberius finished. He found the fresh cohorts of Legionnaires readying themselves for the next morning. Many sought their beds early in order to be fresh for the march, while others spent just a bit of extra time on their equipment.

As for him, Tiberius chose to take advantage of his youthful energy to get a bit more done. After all, he never lacked reports to review.

Eventually though, even he sought the respite of sleep. Tomorrow, they would return to the seat of the barony. And given what they had prepared, the city would be hard-pressed to resist their might.

***

Despite all of his efforts, Quintus had been unable to find an olive branch. A literal one, at least. It wasn’t unexpected, given their strange new environment and the relative scarcity of trees since they’d left Habersville.

Quintus chose not to take it as a sign and instead strode toward the city’s gates with a white banner waving high above his head.

Of course, he had no idea whether the barbarians would recognize either sign for what it was, an offering of truce. But if they didn’t, then it hardly mattered to him. At least he would have made the effort.

A pair of Legionnaires followed behind him, shields at the ready in case the archers on the wall got any ideas. But he doubted they would risk shooting at him. Not with them dragging forth the gagged and bound figure of the Baroness. The other soldier held her daughter fast behind her.

The dragging was mostly for show. His prisoners had been just cooperative, so they’d treated them well so far. But now was not the time for such things. Treating them too kindly in front of the baron might make him think the Legion was soft. That there was room to bargain or that they may not actually follow through on their threats. And that simply wouldn’t do.

Quintus drew in a deep breath that filled his lungs and activated [Voice of Command]. He wasn’t entirely sure that the skills were meant for this kind of use. However, it seemed to do the trick as his bellow carried across the Legion’s freshly-built fortifications and echoed across the city. He was pretty sure everyone could hear him.

“Baron von Latimore! Your attempts to save your family have fallen short. We have seized them and taken them prisoner.”

He gestured back toward the bound figures behind him. “I offer you a chance for their survival. Surrender both your city and yourself if you wish for no harm to come to your wife and child.”

The truth was that he had decided to show leniency to both his prisoners and the city by calling for them to surrender. He had a vested interest in seeing the Baroness remain unharmed. The duke’s wealth would allow him to pay a far larger ransom for the pair than anything he might squeeze out of the baron. As for the child… well, he wasn’t exactly one for seeing younglings like her harmed. But they didn’t need to know that.

If the threat worked, then great. If not, well, that was fine as well. They’d seize the city either way. It was just a matter of how long it would take.

There was movement along the walls. A few guards hesitantly poked their heads up to take in the scene. Indistinct shouting could be heard as they began to move, more and more men gathering on this side of the fortifications.

Quintus just rested his hand on the pommel of his gladius and waited. He was in no rush.

A new figure appeared at the top of the wall a few minutes later. It was difficult to make him out at this distance, even under a flag of truce, Quintus had decided it was prudent to not venture too far into the archers’ ranges. But even from here he could see the relatively fine clothing that the man wore compared to that of the guards.

“Trickery. How do I know that is actually them? You show me little more than illusions.” The voice of what he assumed was the baron carried easily across the intervening space, likely a result of a skill of his own.

Quintus snorted. The man knew damn well that this was his wife. The way the city guards had tried to keep the Legionnaires off of her carriage was proof enough of that. He was just attempting to improve his bargaining position.

Well, Quintus didn’t have much patience for that.

He drew his blade from his belt and pointed out toward the woman’s neck. “Is that a chance you’re willing to take? If so, I will assume she is of no more use to us.”

The baron stilled. Even from here, Quintus thought he saw his jaw visibly clench.

“Bring them closer. Their features are too difficult to see and judge at this distance.”

“No.” Quintus said flatly. He was already closer to projectile range than he would have liked. Besides, he had no desire to traverse the terrain hazards his men had erected, nor find himself caught in some other surprise assault. He didn’t trust this man to honor a truce, not with his family on the line.

Instead, he reached down and ungagged the Baroness. The woman glared at him haughtily with murder in her eyes, but didn’t say a word. He lightly cuffed her ear, though one wouldn’t be able to tell that it was just a tap from how she reacted.

“This will go better for all of you if you speak.” Quintus muttered in a low growl.

The woman’s eyes flicked to her daughter, softening just a bit. Then they regained their initial fire as she shouted toward her husband.

“Klein!” She called out. “Don’t worry about us. We’ll be ok! Don’t give these barbarians what they want! They’ll kill you—”

The rest of her words were cut off as Quintus shoved the gag back in her mouth. She had been behaving herself so well, too. Her outburst wasn’t likely to change much, though he found himself a bit peeved at her misuse of the term ‘barbarian’.

She did have a point, though. Quintus rather doubted that ransoming the entire family off to the duke would bring in substantially more money. Especially not with the ruinous amounts he’d be demanding.

“You have one day to make your decision.” Quintus informed the man. “Should you fail to surrender now, you will not get a second chance.”

He waited several minutes for some sort of response or acknowledgement. When none came, he mage a gesture to his men, their group began heading back to the camp. Quintus didn’t honestly expect the man to surrender. Not after that interaction. As such, his mind was already whirling with battle plans.

The convoy of wagons taking shelter against the wall in particular caught his eye. For some reason, they’d decided to leave the gates clear in favor of clustering at the base of the tall stone fortification that ringed the city. Maybe the guards had forced them to move. Still, the fact remained that the road to the gate was clear.

Quintus couldn’t help but snort at the poor planning. That wasn’t the only factor that would make their assault easier. The wagons’ placements gave the Legion about a six-foot advantage on scaling the walls. That wasn’t insignificant.

Usually, rubble at the base of a wall could be advantageous to the defenders. Unstable ground made it harder to plant ladders and or to approach quickly. However, these wagons were far sturdier. Between that and their skill-fueled improvements in scaling enemy defenses, Quintus was relatively confident that they’d be able to make good use of the situation.

As they walked, however, Quintus heard something from behind them. One of his men sent up a shout of alarm. Whipping back around, the portcullis of the city’s gate had begun to rise rather quickly. It ground open in a handful of seconds, and the ground thundered as a column of horses charged down the road directly toward them.