FORTY-THREE: HONORBOUND

  Cassius watched with detached glee as the blood drained from Hostus’ face as he slowly turned to see General Brutus Invictam as he strode out of the pavilion. Cassius and Valeria fell to one knee as all around the entire camp slammed to the ground, leaving only the senatorial guard and the Blood still on their feet. Cassius made sure to keep his gaze locked to the ground, not wishing to give Hostus even the slimmest excuse to retreat from what was to come.

  “G…G…General,” Hostus stammered as he backed up, bowing his head as the older man walked toward the [Varangian] with slow, calm steps. He spoke in a whisper, nothing more than a breath, but it carried across the camp with clarity.

  “Did you insult the honored dead? Or am I mistaken?” Cassius could hear the panic in Hostus’ voice as he stuttered over himself, desperately trying to find words that would fix his errors.

  “If…if I caused harm, uhh, then it was unintentional, General. All know of the great love between the senatorial guard and the legions,” Hostus managed to end his sentence sounding confident.

  “Legionnaire, rise,” General Invictam ordered and Cassius smoothly stood up, raising his head as he met the general’s eyes. Palest of blues they bordered on white, eyes that were too old and weathered to fit in a youthful face. There was a hardness to him, like the slab of a mountain that had weathered a thousand years.

  “Did this cretin insult our legion?”

  “Yes, Imperator,” Cassius responded. In the depths of [Unyielding Spirit] he could control his facial expressions and tone of voice, carefully keeping it restrained as he wanted to jeer at Hostus as the man swallowed loudly.

  “Then recompense is needed. Summon your commander, cretin. Bellona, I need a ring!” A centurion slapped her fist to shoulder before rising and bounding away, baying out orders as other legionnaires scurried to obey her. A fervor started to rise as Cassius felt eyes fall upon him, the entirety of the legion would know what had happened within the hour.

  “Tell me, do you know how to use your fists?” Invictam whispered, his voice suddenly no longer carrying across the camp.

  “I grew up in the streets of Aurum. I fought to eat and drink,” Cassius replied honestly. If they set upon his some pugilist rules he would lose, but they were in a legion camp where the legions honor had been stained. The only rule would be no naked steel.

  “Hostus is a foul man, but is simply a tool of his master. He is trained and skilled and at the peak of his tier. Are you ready for that?” Invictam asked. Cassius didn’t say anything for if he did he would burst with his secret. It would not be a fight, but a lesson to those who would dismiss the legionnaires.

  “Good. Now, enter the tent and bring that delightful barrel with you,” Invictam said, turning and heading back toward the pavilion. He waved a finger at Aurora and Vira as he strode confidently forward. Neither of the [Praetorians] dared to move against him as they left Hostus standing behind them without another word.

  The pavilion flaps were thrown open, Cassius and the others ushered in to see the massive interior space lit with braziers, rich wooden furniture covered in thick cushions scattered about, rugs placed across the tarp on the ground muffling their steps. Well over a dozen people lounged about in a rough circle, their clothes rich, well-made, exquisite in comparison to anything Cassius had worn.

  All of their eyes were locked on the two bare chested women who battled back and forth in a blur of steel. A haze of air wrapped around the two women, holding the sounds of their fight as neither of the women moved their feet as they fought.

  “What is this?” Cassius whispered as the two women hammered at each other. Their skin glistened unnaturally in the light of the fires, mana running across it as sword strikes bounced free without harm. No weapon skills touched the swords themselves, but both of them were blanketed in plenty of defensive skills.

  “Looks like an honor duel. Fairly harmless,” Vira said, voice flat as she shook her head,a hint of red crept across her cheeks as she blushed with apparent embarrassment. Cassius took better stock of the two women and quickly pieced it together.

  The taller of the two women was a near identical image of Vira. Broad shouldered with short platinum blonde hair, green eyes that were narrowed in focus as she fought, scars lined her tanned skin while her white teeth seemed to glow as she fought.

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  Her opponent was shorter, stockier of build with darker skin than Zhang Wei’s had been, black hair long and covered in silver bands that bound it into several tight braids. Both of them moved with the fluidity and speed of blademasters, neither of them giving an inch as metal sparked as their blades met again and again.

  “They’re both tier two, yes?” Cassius asked. Vira nodded before she spoke.

  “That is Lady Victoria Equites Pertinax, head of the other borderlord family. Her and mother are quite close, even if they are rivals,” Vira explained. Cassius nodded along and was happy when Valeria asked the question he’d been thinking but had been to scared to voice.

  “Why are their tits out?” Vira snorted loudly at the crassness of the question, hiding behind a raised hand as she choked on her own spittle. Aurora answered the legionnaire, turning around with a faint smile of her own.

  “Two reasons. One to show they have brought no hidden weapons, the second is to show if one bleeds. These duels are not meant for true blood let alone death, it is not an arena afterall.” Aurora turned back to the fight as it came to a crashing crescendo.

  Lady Victoria’s sword was tossed free of the circle, landing loudly on a carpet as Flavinia Agricola Triticum rested her own sword on her rival’s shoulder, her smile widening as the woman nodded her head in acceptance. The warding around them popped as whoever had cast the skill allowed it to relax.

  The harsh breathing of the two women was loud in the sudden silence, but applause quickly rang out as everyone put their hands together for the act that had occurred. Neither of the nobles acknowledged it, simply clasping forearms together in a warrior’s embrace before breaking apart.

  Lady Flavinia strode directly toward them and not toward one of her servants who scurried after her with a simple tunic in her hands. As she grew closer Cassius could detect the hints of age in the woman’s face, the slight crinkle around the eyes and mouth, how her eyes looked older than her face suggested. It was similar to how the general appeared.

  “Daughter, it is good that you live,” Lady Flavinia said, offering her daughter the same warrior’s grasp she had given Lady Victoria. Vira didn’t hesitate in offering her arm, grabbing her mother’s forearm beneath the elbow and holding it for a long moment as Flavinia’s green eyes peered at her daughter with a powerful intensity before breaking free and looking over Valeria and Cassius.

  “Your cousins fell?” Flavinia asked softly. Vira nodded once, earning a quiet sigh of pain as Flavinia turned to look at the back corner of the pavilion where Lady Statia stood rigid as she noticed her missing kinsmen.

  “They were warriors, but ill-tidings regardless. And these two, Cassius and Valeria if I am not mistaken,” Flavinia said, releasing her daughter and coming to stand before the two legionnaires. Most of the pavilion eyes were locked on them, but discreetly, using cups or fans to hide their apparent interest.

  “Yes, my lady,” Cassius said, bowing his head slightly and being careful not to stare. Valeria did so as well with her own muttered words that were waved off as Flavinia looked them over as a flicker of suspicion raced across her face before she looked at her daughter. She took a deep breath in through her nose, scenting the air and a smile flashed across her face as she laughed once before turning to take the tunic her servant was offering her.

  “Come, I have just won our house first claim upon a dungeon found here,” Flavinia said as she threw an arm around Vira’s shoulder and dragged her toward the center of the pavilion as the rest were forced to follow after her.

  “A dungeon? A rich reward,” Vira said, managing to keep her voice level.

  “Yes, rich indeed. I am sure it will be filled with powerful artefacts and opportunities to grow further than before. Aurora shall lead the team that will conquer it, but I am sure she would appreciate some sisterly advice on Wild dungeons,” Flavinia said as she found a lounge that was mostly unoccupied.

  The sole occupant was a man who looked to be of similar age as Cassius and Vira. He looked up with soft amber eyes, curly black hair fell about his ears and his sun-kissed skin shone with health and vigor as he rose in a smooth motion, offering the lounge to the victorious noblewoman. Flavinia offered thanks as she drew the tunic over her head and settled on the chair as the man stayed close by, waiting for something.

  “Meet Basil,” Flavinia said, throwing a hand at the man who wrinkled his brow at the name and shook his head in annoyance.

  “I am Basilides of the Lyceum,” the man said, bowing at the waist in an artful move.

  “Oh, gods no,” Vira groaned loudly while her mother laughed, a deep belly laugh that shook her frame as she waved at one of her attendants who quickly approached with a chalice of wine.

  “What is the Lyceum?” Cassius asked. The question only redoubled Vira’s complaint as the man looked as if he had been slapped, reeling backward before snapping forward and sliding around Vira to wrap his arm around Cassius’ shoulder.

  “My dearest brother, have you truly never hear of the Lyceum? The greatest school in our grand republic?” Basilides asked.

  “My education is rather bereft of formality after the orphanage,” Cassius said gently, trying to figure a way to drop the heavy water barrel to pull the man’s arm off of his shoulder.

  “That can not do. All people must study and know, for that is where we find ourselves! In the study of the world, we discover truths immortal of ourselves,” Basilides cried out.

  “He is a philosopher,” Vira said as she sat next to her mother, taking the chalice from her mother without asking and drinking deeply as she groaned.

  “You offer me the greatest compliments my lady, but I am simply still a student. An [Observer],” Basilides explained. Cassius could hear the power in the word observer, the emphasis the same as when named a class.

  “Mother, I have many questions,” Vira said, which Flavinia nodded to, but before either could speak a single clap stopped all discussion as General Invictam stood in the center of the room. Surrounded by the opulence of the senators and strata, even in his rich furs he seemed poor, but the power and self-assuredness of the general shone as every eye turned to him.

  “Our wayward scouts have returned. It is time to hear their recollection of what has transpired!”