Empire in Chains: Act 6, Chapter 17

Chapter 17

“Poor Mort. Thought for sure he was gonna make Captain. Got into Ray’s bodyguard and everythin’.”

“Yeah, he said he was gonna marry that girl from the Drunken Pick once we got done here too.”

“Which girl?”

“Y’know, the one with the…” Winson made roundish gestures with his hands, then glanced at Lady Zahradnik and stopped, “uh…the girl with the red curls. Tita.”

“What! She said she was gonna marry me!”

“Wait, she told me that too!”

“That bitch!”

Joachim glanced at the faces of the men standing around the campfire. A few were from the Baroness’ bodyguard, but most had wandered over with the Captain of the company camping nearby, whom Lady Zahradnik had invited over to answer some questions she had about her paperwork. Gossip about the Owlbear encounter had by then circulated around the camp, however, so the topic inevitably drifted to questions about the fight.

“So, how’d you outdo that Ray?”

“I’d rather you not frame it in that sense, Captain Seris,” Lady Zahradnik replied. “It lends to the belief that the General is somehow deficient as a Commander.”

“Then how’d you put it, m’lady?”

“The risks to each group were different,” the Baroness told him, “as was how we approached those risks. The General’s bodyguard had the composition of a standard imperial patrol, meaning that they only had one Cleric. Priest Bennet was strong enough to take on one of those Owlbears by himself, but he was tied up supporting the rest of his squad. I took advantage of the Owlbears’ single-minded rage and their poor climbing skills, ordering Destin to fight his opponent from a tree. The rest of my squad was able to take down the other one at their leisure with two Clerics on hand. Also, if you absolutely had to make a point of it, the comparison between ‘commanders’ would be between myself and the Sergeant leading General Ray’s bodyguard.”

“You’re saying that the General didn’t matter there?”

“Rather than him not mattering, it’s a difference in role…how long have you served as a Captain for?”

“The old Captain retired about three months before we were deployed here,” Captain Seris replied. “I was a Sergeant for three months before that. Joined the Sixth when the Legions got shuffled around.”

It was an unusually rapid series of promotions. Joachim did not know the man well, but he at least knew Captain Seris was not an academy graduate. He must have either enlisted as an already-exceptional individual or displayed exceptional growth while displaying traits that the army deemed desirable for an officer. That being said, the Imperial Army’s Captains were all knighted so one had to wonder what he had done since the spring when all the Sixth Legion did was conduct exercises in that time.

“Have you ever trained directly against a Commander?” Lady Zahradnik asked.

“No, m’lady,” Captain Seris answered. “It’s always been against other Captains or Sergeants. Commanders usually only do stuff when there’s multiple companies under them.”

“Why do you think that is?”

“Just the way things are, I guess,” the Captain shrugged. “Commanders just do bigger things; Generals even bigger.”

“I suppose that is how it seems,” the Baroness said. “The actual explanation falls under somewhat similar lines. Sergeants and Captains lead smaller groups of soldiers from the front, while Commanders and Generals lead larger groups from the rear. Our Skills and Abilities as officers reflect those roles: the effect of a Sergeant or Captain is more ‘direct’ and we have a strong influence over our squads or companies. Commanders and Generals have ‘broad’ effects that influence much larger groups of soldiers but are less effective with smaller groups than Captains. It would be impossible to do so from a General’s usual position on the battlefield, anyway, so it can’t be seen as a ‘deficiency’ on their part.”

“But even Commanders gotta start from somewhere,” Captain Seris noted. “I didn’t just forget what I did as a Sergeant ‘cause I made Captain. Doubt that’d happen if I made Commander, either.”

“It won’t,” Lady Zahradnik agreed, “but General Ray didn’t follow the same path as rank-and-file soldiers. He’s a Noble that went to the Imperial Magic Academy and then moved on to the Imperial Military Academy. He focused entirely on his career as a Commander with Generalship as the eventual goal. To be honest, I believe his approach to be superior for that particular path.”

“Most of the Army’s Generals were Captains before they became Commanders, m’lady. They do just fine.”

“They do,” Lady Zahradnik nodded, “but consider the case of General Kabein. Like General Ray, he has little in the way of personal martial valour, but he is still considered the Empire’s best General and the Second Legion is considered the most effective army group.”

Captain Seris furrowed his brow, jaw working back and forth as he mulled over the Baroness’ words.

“So you’re saying that, if I wanted to make General, I shouldn’t have worked so hard at making Captain?”

“The path you’ve taken does make for a more tactically flexible Commander and I think it is sufficient within the Empire’s borders. Out here, however, you are in a far more competitive and unforgiving environment so you’ll need all the advantages that you can get. Also, there is nothing inherently wrong with being a Captain.”

“But…but everyone aims up, m’lady. Commanders and Generals get more than Captains.”

“That is an organisational and administrative issue, Captain Seris,” Lady Zahradnik said. “In Baharuth and Re-Estize, civilisation has developed in such a way that what is deemed ‘important’ differs vastly from how other places might see things. The mechanisms through which resources are secured and distributed run on certain assumptions that crumble if put to the test. The greatest recognition goes to those who influence the greatest number of people in times of peace. In these wilderness tribes, it is usually the exact opposite.”

“That’s ‘cause they’re savages, m’lady. Civilised folk have rules.”

“Rules are established to uphold order,” the Baroness replied. “But order must be sustainable in the first place. If a monster came and attacked the Empire, which rules could the citizens point out to it that would save them?”

“Uh, none, m’lady. The army’d have to come kill it. Or maybe Adventurers if it was powerful enough.”

“So whose rules is the Empire ultimately playing by? For that matter, these ‘savages’ in the wilderness have their own rules, but a Goblin pointing them out to your company won’t stop you, will he?”

Captain Seris fell silent, staring quietly at the fire. The answer was clear enough.

“There are rules and there are rules, Captain. The rules you speak of are what the Empire employs to regulate the behaviour of those who answer to imperial authority. The rules that I speak of are the realities of the world that the Empire holds no authority over and must also answer to. Imperial citizens are accustomed to the former, but, as a member of the Sixth Legion, you will find yourself facing the latter. As you do what you must to succeed out here, you may find the way that imperial citizens recognise things at home becoming increasingly lopsided.”

“That’s a demoralising picture you’re painting there, m’lady.”

“Only if you’re dissatisfied with what you receive for your achievements. As a Captain, you can still become a Baron and continue to earn honours that help you develop your new territory. I believe almost any of you would be more than happy with that. One of the main issues that I see is that accepting a promotion to Commander as an experienced Captain places you in a practically inferior position. Your company is robbed of your leadership and the division that you are placed over would do much better under a Commander like General Ray.”

“You’re a ‘Captain’ like me,” Captain Seris said. “Would you honestly turn down a promotion to Commander or General?”

“It’s not something I have to worry about,” Lady Zahradnik replied, “but I would turn down a ‘promotion’ to a different role if I was. It’s not what I am and the administration of the Sorcerous Kingdom measures its citizens according to the roles that they occupy regardless. In my demesne, a Farmer is expected to operate a farm, but the fact that they answer to the local management doesn’t make them ‘lower’ in terms of the respect that they are afforded. Similarly, a Noble is simply a Noble and I hold no illusions over whether a Farmer is better at certain things than I am. Simply put, people do what they’re good at and there is no shame in what they do. In fact, vocational excellence is a major point of prestige.”

“Then how does that work for the army?”

“My involvement in the army comes with obligations as a vassal, so you could say that I simply am. When the point comes that we require a formalised structure for citizens that join the army, it would probably be similar to knighthoods in the Empire. Ranks would be honorary rather than the definition of one’s role. As to what they would be called…perhaps they would be graded for simplicity’s sake like our Adventurer Guild.”

Did that mean these citizen soldiers would advance like Adventurers? Everyone seemed to compare themselves in strength to Adventurers of different ranks anyway so adopting the same progression felt like it would be relatively painless.

“At any rate,” Lady Zahradnik said. “Thank you for answering my questions about these after-action reports, Captain Seris. I should fill them out while events are still fresh.”

The men around the fire bobbed their heads respectfully before leaving amidst the general cheer of the encampment. Joachim frowned at the festive atmosphere that had spread over the outpost as the men of the battalion celebrated their good fortune.

“You wouldn’t think that a man had just died,” he muttered.

“There’s no way that they don’t know,” Lady Zahradnik said from the desk placed under the tent’s veranda. “But at the same time, it is a risk that they all accepted with their assignment to the Sixth Legion. Besides, as the scion of a border house, I can’t imagine that your nights will be filled with weeping over losses in battle.”

“I can’t see it as the same, my lady,” Joachim replied. “Meeting one’s death in honoured service is something that their friends and family can be proud of, but this army group’s mandate is less about honoured service and more…mercenary. Given that the man was hand-picked for the General’s bodyguard, all I can think is that his ambition cost him his life.”

“Is there something wrong with that?”

“Of course! As long as one is alive, there is always the future and the opportunities that come with it.”

“The Sixth Legion is full of men who considered their future and decided that it wasn’t enough. To live life is to take risks.”

He turned to look down at Lady Zahradnik, who was too busy filling reports to look up. She had for some reason switched from tying back her hair in a ponytail to forming it into a loose chignon, using her blue crystal pin to hold it in place. The exquisite ornament glistened in the magical lighting overhead as she focused on her work.

Their fight with the Owlbears was probably the most notable thing that had happened in the battalion’s campaign thus far. It was certainly the one that the least people were involved in and its sole fatality was the first ‘honourable death’ in the Sixth Legion. To the victors also went the spoils: four Owlbear corpses – one of unusual size – and eight Owlbear Eggs.

The eggs alone were worth two hundred gold trade coins each to collectors and trainers of exotic Magical Beasts. Several of the more knowledgeable people present in the outpost estimated that the corpses altogether would be at least another hundred. All told, that was 3400 gold in imperial coinage. To put it another way, if split evenly between the men, each would earn from that brief battle more than what it cost an entire family to live in Arwintar for a month. To all but the wealthiest Merchants and Nobles, it was a lot.

That was not how things would be distributed in practice, of course. A third of the gains went to the Sixth Legion’s rolling pool of campaign rewards, another third went towards ‘equalisation payments’ with the army at large and the remaining third stayed in the battalion. The battalion would also try to make payments fair using a similar structure, with a third being kept by the battalion’s command for special operational expenses and broad awards, a third split between the entire battalion and the remaining third being awarded to the parties directly responsible for the gains.

Lady Zahradnik abstained from partaking in any awards which in turn had General Ray abstaining as well. In short, this meant that the twenty-six remaining soldiers of the two bodyguards would receive fourteen-and-a-half imperial gold coins each. It was an astonishing windfall for commoners – roughly a year’s salary for the lowest pay grade in the army – and the rest of the battalion would still receive the equivalent of an expensive night in Orensted.

As if she could see his frown through the back of her head, Lady Zahradnik spoke.

“A promise is being fulfilled, Priest Ward.”

“A promise, my lady?”

“They are not simply celebrating the gains made today,” she said, “but the fact that what drew them to the Sixth Legion is indeed true. A promise is being fulfilled and they are celebrating the promise that it holds for the future.”

Joachim peered into the darkness at the men gathered in front of their tents. The sounds from the surroundings abruptly ceased. He looked back down to find Lady Zahradnik looking up at him. At her hand on the desk was one of the magic items that she carried around with her: one that produced a Silence effect in a shell around the item.

“Was there something you wished to say?” The Baroness asked.

“Don’t you think it’s greedy?”

“At what point is ambition greed?”

“…I mean no offence by saying so, my lady,” Joachim said, “but you are at least ten times more pious than the average imperial citizen. Which also means you’re twice as pious as me. While you and I do not share the same faith, there should at least be some commonalities when it comes to righteous living. In this case, I am referring to ideals of service, honour, charity, frugal living and the reining-in of rampant greed.”

“Our standards are not precisely the same,” Lady Zahradnik said, “but I understand what you’re trying to say. Because I am as pious as you describe – or maybe more so – I often examine such things, comparing where I see boundaries compared to others and what is truly right and proper.”

“And what is the answer you’ve arrived at thus far?”

“‘It depends’.”

Joachim snorted.

“You’ll forgive me if I say that your answer is rather unexpected of an adherent of Surshana.”

“Judgement and justice are not served by arbitrary arbiters, Priest Ward. While my judgement is far from perfect, I still strive to be even-handed in all things. You accompanied me the other day as I went around asking the men about their aspirations – could any of them be considered greedy?”

“No, but I believe that the means by which those aspirations are achieved can lead to the development of unhealthy appetites. It is a story told time and again.”

“That is a rather unexpected assessment for a citizen of a country that extols the virtues of ‘meritocracy’. If all men are to be weighed according to their own merits, should their actions not also be examined on a case-by-case basis?”

“And how much damage would that cause in the process, my lady? The officers of the Imperial Army are but mere mortals: examining every case is an impossible task and justice is by nature reactive. By mitigating such behaviour, risks to the innocent and general degradation in morals can be reduced.”

“Who defines risk?” Lady Zahradnik asked, “To what extent must behaviour be mitigated? As a Cleric in the Empire, you should well understand that the interests of those in authority may not fall in line with your beliefs. The influence of the Temples is deemed a risk by the imperial administration and problematic behaviours by the Temples and their clergy have been ‘mitigated’ for generations. Would you so readily do the same to others?”

“I am of the mind that if the Empire wasn’t so insistent on painting the Temples as a rival for political influence, the Empire would be far better off than it currently is. The mandate of the Temples is inherently selfless – we look out for the well-being of all.”

Lady Zahradnik frowned, giving him a long look. Joachim swallowed.

“W-what?”

“Do you earnestly believe that?”

“It seems plainly obvious to me, my lady.”

“It is obviously not the case, Priest Ward. If the Temples of the Four looked out for the well-being of all, you would have been protesting the systemic aggression not only against the tribes of this wilderness but all of the populations that have been displaced or exterminated to facilitate the growth and development of the Baharuth Empire.”

“That’s…this isn’t something you’ve confronted General Ray about, my lady.”

“I haven’t yet,” Lady Zahradnik said. “But it is something that the Empire will have to face at some point. What I said to Captain Seris was not solely to do with personal advancement. The Empire, too, must see beyond the illusory walls it has built around itself and determine what its true place in the world will be.”