The Liaison Option: Simulation Series 1

By Hazard Saul

Matthew Cripten is a newly promoted Chicago Police detective. Anxious to prove his metal he enthusiastically jumps into his first murder case. The only lead for he and his partner David Allen to follow is a binder written entirely in Latin and the fact that the victim was involved in a Massive Multiplayer Online Role Playing Game (MMORPG). In the course of the investigation, Matthew is lured into the strange, online gaming world of the Cosmos and uncovers more than he ever expected. He is thrust into the Roman culture dominated by the leadership of Daryl Benkarda, known only in the Cosmos as General Nedor. There he learns that the Romans and Barbarians have been at war for the last twenty-five years over control of the mysterious Cosmos.
Simultaneously enjoyable and thought provoking, the Simulation Series explores the new realities exposed by the 21st century. When we live in a world where identities can be obscured, what does it mean to be in "reality"? Matthew discovers reality is where you are.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Sep 16, 2016
• ISBN: 9781365397240

Book preview

The Liaison Option: Simulation Series 1

The Liaison Option : The Simulation Series 1

Table of Contents

Dedication

Prologue

1.

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

11

12

13

14

15.

16

17

18

19

20

Epilogue

Preview

Characters:

Dedication

To my Wife,

for listening for all those hours.

Prologue

The scrawny young man scampered across the street heedless of the traffic that honked and screeched to a halt around him. He shifted the box to his other side and simply stepped onto the sidewalk muttering to himself. He nearly bumped into a young woman in her twenties but smoothly sidestepped her, offering a halfhearted apology. In his arms he carried a large white box that he clutched awkwardly enough that its weight was obvious to anyone watching. However, no one was watching, at least no one on the same sidewalk.

His appearance was nondescript: a twenty two year old, disheveled, young man wearing a spring sports jacket, blue jeans and untucked tee-shirt.  His hazel eyes, brown hair and young, inexperienced face earned him nothing more than casual dismissal from the passing pedestrians. The young man certainly seemed insignificant with his slumped shoulders, unkempt hair and slouchy posture. His eyes however, betrayed him to any one who was really observing him.

His eyes were focused and watchful on the verge of fear. His movements, while certainly not poised or gracious to watch, were smooth and efficient. If anyone cared to observe him more than thirty seconds they would have noticed that even though he carried a large box he navigated the busy sidewalk without bumping into anyone or knocking them over. He neither hurried nor sauntered.  The young man, if it were possible, slouched his way graciously through the street. He was obviously in a hurry but restrained.

He walked three blocks to the nearest bus stop and arrived a few minutes ahead of the bus. Since he had left his apartment he had not stopped muttering a phrase as if it were a mantra: De profundis libertatem, He was still repeating it to himself when the bus arrived.

Boarding, he slouched down in his seat as if to hide behind his parcel. However, if his goal was hiding, he failed. At the next stop a woman and her young son boarded the bus and sat next to him. The woman kept her eyes straight ahead keeping herself, to her own business. The young boy however, had apparently not yet learned bus etiquette. An entire fifteen seconds passed before the child turned to the young man and noticing his tattoo exclaimed. 

Wow, that’s a neat picture, did you draw that? the child was pointing at the tattoo on the back of the young man’s hand. The tattoo was a colorful compass rose that covered his wrist and disappeared into his spring jacket.

The young man shook his head but did not smile. No, I paid someone. He then shifted the box, allowing him to pull the jacket sleeve down to cover most of the tattoo.  He shifted in his seat and tried to look away. He was never very good at real conversations they seemed too fake, too trite, contrived. He didn’t have the time or the energy to focus on anything other than his task at hand. He once again picked up chanting his phrase and the young mother reigned in her son, causing no more interaction.

The bus stopped fifteen minutes later and the young man got off. The post office was just a few blocks up ahead and he covered the distance efficiently yet with his usual slouch.  In a few moments the box left his possession and was safely in the United States postal system. He left the Post Office at 6:45 p.m. the woman behind the counter would never remember him, the other patrons inside the post office couldn’t have described him to the police even if they wanted to. Few people who die have signs on their chests telling others to remember them. Philip Grechen, leaving the post office that day, was no different.  

1.

Mara of Genua sat astride her horse impressively arrayed in her bronze shining amor. Her red cape draped over her left shoulder was fastened with a beautiful gold medallion, her horse rearing up on two legs. She was a Tribuni angusticlavii for the XXXIII Roman Legion, in command of over 300 Equites. Currently she only had a turma of 30 troops with her under her Decurion Bomi of Genua.  She and her four bodyguards had decided to scout ahead to see the ford for herself so the rest were hidden just beyond the road behind her.

In the distance she could see a mounted enemy scouting party approaching.  As they noticed her they turned and wheeled down the hill racing towards her, covering the ground in great gallops, bearing down upon their position. Her pulse quickened, as it did every time she faced a conflict, and she twirled her horse around contemplating staying and slaying the enemy troops at the ford.

It would depend upon the number of troops the Barbarians had. Too many and they could simply withdraw; a more manageable number and it might be worth it to engage. Pausing a moment she took the surrounding vista in making sure to remember it for her report to General Nedor later.

The land was strewn with hills and crags not quite mountains but impressive mounds of earth nevertheless; it was dotted with rocks and covered with a healthy forest.  The river was almost a quarter of mile wide snaking through the hills like a serpent toying with it’s prey. The Kebor river was deep and swift for many stadia in both directions which meant this ford would be critical for the General’s plans. A battle being fought here would be impractical but it could serve as a bottle neck. 

As the Barbarians closed in she could tell there were only about a two dozen or so of them. Looking back at her few companion she realize the enemy were thinking they had caught only a small scouting party.  

Smirking to she turned to Bomi her decurion,  Nos intra captionem. She held up her horn, Vigilant ad signa mea . He nodded and galloped back around the bend behind the hill where the remainder of her troops were stationed. She watched as the band of painted Barbarians gradually approached her. They did not appear prepared to stop and had every intention of stomping her little band into oblivion. Her bodyguards drew their swords and nervously glanced her way.

Finally, when she could make out their individual faces she raised the trumpet and let out a long sonorous note. Instantly, she drew her own sword and started trotting towards them ever so slowly, her bodyguards flanking her. She watched several Barbarian warriors on the edges halt their horses as the remainder of her party galloped around the bend and over the ford. She increased her speed as they rattled over the ford and she spurred her horse into a full gallop as the remaining 30 equites caught up with her.

To their credit the Barbarians never swerved or wavered. Even those who had stopped their horses reengaged them and joined the charge. The two enemy forces slammed into each other, sending bodies flying, horses collapsing and blood quickly flowing. Mara swung her sword around and cut the head off an opposing Barbarian. Urging her mount forward she leaned forward in the saddle and ducked a swipe at her own head. She stuck her sword through the kidneys of another warrior, dropping him from his saddle as well.

Her sword was swift and powerful, hacking off limbs, removing heads and blasting people out of their saddles. It was all they could do for her bodyguards to keep pace with her. She drove forward like a woman possessed, aiming herself like a ballista towards the leader of the war band determined to bring him down.

Finally, the two met face to face. He was a tall, lanky, red painted warrior armored with a bright red shield and impressive scimitar.  Without hesitation she lashed out at him. He countered her strike and swung his shield at her face. She pulled back in time and reigned her horse around trying to get to his rear. He moved his own mount to retain his position and then lashed out with his scimitar trying to sever her arm.

She countered his downward attack with her shield and thrusted her own straight sword, attempting to puncture his ribs.  Using his own shield he turned the thrust away, but quicker than he imagined possible she rotated her wrist and brought the sword instantly back in an impressive slice across the great warrior’s thighs.

She then brought the edge of her shield down on the wounded leg and as his arms collapsed to his core in an automatic reflex, she simply pushed forward and thrust the warrior off his horse.  He toppled backward flipping himself off the beast and lading impressively on the ground.

Using the flat of her blade she swatted the horse on the rump forcing it to gallop away. The warrior, clearly angry, twirled his blade and then rushed at Mara recklessly in an attempt to force her off her own mount. As he leapt into the air sword thrusting forward she twisted in her saddle and turned his sword away with her shield and then brought her own weapon across the warrior’s face knocking him to the ground. Instantly, she leapt off her horse and using the edge of her shield decapitated the fallen warrior as he was on the ground trying to get up.

To insure her job was finished she thrust her sword in the armpit of the great warrior. Turning around she discovered that the Barbarians were in full retreat and her warriors were in pursuit. Jogging over to her mount she deftly swung herself up and into the saddle. Retrieving her horn she let loose two long blasts followed by a short third. Withdraw!

There were four dead Romans along with three of their mounts. But the Barbarians had suffered almost a dozen casualties, many still attempting to crawl away. She picked up a spear and skewered the closest wounded one through the throat. 

Turning to Bomi she tossed him the spear. Nos loquamur debent. It took only a few moments and all the wounded Barbarians were terminated. They took care of their own wounded and put down the critically wounded animals and retrieving their dead they retreated across the ford. She took her contingent and galloped through the hills and gullies finally returning their encampment a little over two hours later. 

The Roman fortifications were impressive, situated on the apex of a particularly impressive hill, they had completely leveled the top and made their encampment upon it. Breast works and a two meter high earthen wall surrounded the encampment and creating an impressive demonstration of determination and logistical mastery. The party rode through the gate upon giving the pro word and immediately relinquished their animals for stabling. Dismounting, Mara handed the reigns to Bomi and indicated he should follow the others while she reported to General Nedor, who stood watching her dismount. 

General Nedor of Venii strode out of his tent and waited for his scout leader Mara of Genoa to dismount from her horse. General Nedor was clothed in a blood red cape that trailed him and swirled in the breeze as he stood waiting for her.  His gold breastplate shone in the sun sending gleams of light off in odd directions. His arms and shines were covered with silver grieves and on his left side was his gladius with an ivory pommel. General Nedor appeared every bit of the Roman General that he was, down to the patient but demanding attitude.

He had sent Mara out two weeks previous hoping she would be able to provide better intelligence than what his other scouts has procured. The situation along the Kebor River had been tentative over the past six months. General Nebor’s Roman Legion had held the Barbarians in check but a full conflict was appearing inevitable and Nedor was glad for it. Strategy had kept the Barbarians disjointed and unable to bring the full weight of their numbers against his legion but, if Nedor was right, tactics were next.

Mara stepped off her horse her slim figure accentuated by her tight fitting leather pants and impressive breastplate. Her own red cape swirled around her as well and she dismounted striding towards Nedor. The cape was fastened at her shoulders with a large gold broach.  At a full pace from him she stopped, lowered her head and raised her right hand to her heart fist closed.

"Vita intra armas est." she stated simply.

Nos vita extra bellum posset habeamus the general responded returning the call and salute.

Raising her head she stated simply, "Successus habemus. Imperator."

Bone. Nos loquamur necessario. He turned and gestured towards the opening of his tent. He knew she would not fail him. Mara’s refusal to accept failure was her dominant attribute which made her most useful.

She was his Calvary leader, providing him with eyes, ears and swift movements.   Of all his commanders she was the most daring and willing to risk on the slimmest of margins. He had purposely waited for her return to reveal his plan for the upcoming battle.  He knew it was risky and he wanted her aggressive attitude to permeate the war council. If any of his commanders would balk at his suggested war plan it would not be Mara.

Upon entering the tent Mara was surprised to see as many officers as she saw gathered in the General’s command tent. General? Is this a council of war?

General Nedor smiled. Yes. We have been waiting for your return. We began to gather when we received word that you were on your way here.

Walking beside him she nodded in assent. My apologies, we were delayed at the crossing by an enemy scouting party. We skirmished and drove them off. It cost us several hours.

Casualties? The general asked.

We lost four, but killed three times as many. She turned and picked up an offered glass of wine.

That’s four more than we hoped to loose.

I understand. She replied simply.

I hope so. This plan calls for extensive calvary maneuvering.  I hope you have kept your force intact.  

Vinciano of Rome clad in his own Roman armor approached the two as they stood in the corner of the tent. He bowed his head slightly acknowledging Mara and turned towards General Nedor. Sir, the map is set up, when ever Mara is ready to present her information.

Mara laid out the positions of both Barbarian armies on the map for the whole war council. She detailed their movements and laid out the blockages her forces had accomplished over the previous two weeks. Following her presentation Nedor presented his risky plan of attack.  Using the ford he wanted to post the legion between the two armies and fight each wing independently.  It was a risky situation but if everything went just their way it might succeed. After an hour and a half of vigorous discussion the war council had gone quite well.

Nedor turned to Vinciano, Allow them to work out the details I am going outside for a moment. He strode out of his command tent and stood near the opening, watching the camp assume a life of its own. The general watched in amusement as a group of Hastiati marched past in formation causing the centurion to salute.  Returning the salute Nedor took a few steps away from the opening of tent reflecting upon the meeting.

Constantia, the legionary head of engineers, was the only one with lingering reservations, so Nedor felt the omens bode well for success. So with a consensus looming on the horizon he felt he could leave. By removing himself from the tent his subordinates had an opportunity to flush out the maneuvering details without his interference. Vinciano and Cicero had helped develop the plan so they would maintain the integrity of the maneuver. Now if he could only hear about what had been happening back in Rome. 

The last letter he had received spoke of a messenger that had been sent from Vicini of Rome.  The messenger would certainly be arriving any time and it had plagued his thoughts lately.  Vicini, his patron, rarely sent personal messengers. He usually handed out tasks and requests via letter. Nedor was sure it was a sign that things were about to change. The last time he had received a personal representative from Vicini he had been offered command of the army here, three years ago.

Nedor was sure another such offer was about to be laid on the table. Of course with politics as they were in Rome it was difficult to speculate. There could be numerous issues at hand. The problem might be within the Knights of Pompii, it might be a military issue, there could be a change of command, or perhaps an offer of a new command. Nedor allowed himself the luxury of imagining himself being in command of the entire western frontier. It would be a glorious offer and a promotion worthy of great honor. However, the dream was useless without further information.

Regardless of what the messenger would bring Nedor knew he would have to develop a team around him such as he had developed here. He reflected upon his current command team they were bright, dedicated and knowledgeable in their field. Most of them had spent their time in the military. It was time to broaden their knowledge of the Cosmos and usher them into the battle that he had been sucked into nearly six years earlier.

Returning to his tent he found his commanders finishing up their conversations.  He pushed them all out claiming that he needed to finish a few things. As they were leaving he gasped Cicero by the arm asking him to stay.

Sir, by your peace I will stay. The centurion responded simply and took a seat as the remainder of the command team left the tent.

Cicero, would you be willing to leave the legion? Nedor asked after a few moments.

You mean leave the thirty third?  Have I done something that displeases you? the centurion leaned forward in his seat.

No, my old friend.  Change is afoot. He turned and picking up a scroll sitting on the left side of his desk he shook it for the Centurion to see. I have received news that my patron is sending a representative here to speak with me.

A representative in person? Cicero asked.

Yes, the letter is unclear exactly as to what is going on. Of course it is vague intentionally because we are on the frontier and hazarding Barbarian interception is a needless risk.

Truly.

I ask if you are willing to leave because there is a possibility I may be asked to leave as well.  I do not know when or what but my hunch is such that I believe change might be in the future. I dispatched a letter three weeks ago arguing that Vinciano be offered command of the thirty third, I doubt that he will be denied his command opportunity. Do you wish to stay with him or come with me? Nedor asked leaning back in his seat.

Sir. The centurion paused measuring his words carefully. I am uncertain at this time. I love this legion I have served with it most of my military career and under you as well. Vinciano is more than capable of leading this legion, I am surprised he hasn’t been offered his own command already.

Vinciano belongs to the Knights of York.  Last I heard he had been promoted to full knight status.  The problem is, as you know, the Knights of York have enormous power on the other side of the River Styx. On this side here they do not have a good track record when it comes to command. Vinciano’s patron in his order has not done him full justice. He is entirely capable of commanding this legion. However, I am still interested in your leanings Cicero. Would you stay with the legion or would you come with me?

Sir, the centurion stood up. I have been with you since the battle of Asuigo’s crossing and I am willing to travel with you now. As you know sir, I too belong to the Knights of Pompii. I am sure my patron would be willing to see me travel with one such as you.

Nedor stood as well. Good, I thought as much. Do not send word yet to Beohadrian, until I have received the full news. Things yet may change.

Cicero nodded his assent and picking up his breastplate and cloak left the generals tent. 

Nedor sat down at his desk and worked diligently at dispatches and supply issues manning rosters and training plans for the next hour. He almost failed to notice the legionary who stepped into his tent.  Nedor noticed the movement but didn’t worry about it until a voice in halting Latin spoke. General, the centurion of the guard asked me to bring this to you. The legionary cohort held in his hand a simple broach. It was about the size of a fist, made of silver and shaped like and eagle. Nedor recognized it immediately.  The silver eagle was the crest of Vicini of Rome, his patron. Nedor stood and taking the broach in his hand he examined it for authenticity.

I’m assuming a messenger arrived bearing this broach? he asked after a moment.

The legionary nodded in assent. Excellency, the messenger arrived a few moments ago and the centurion on duty sent me to find your bidding.

Send the messenger in, see to his horse and find him a place to sleep for the night. Send him in when he is ready.

By your peace sir, the messenger is a woman and I will obey. The cohort saluted and backed out of the tent.

Ahh he sent Belloria. The general mused out loud.

Belloria was Vicini’s official representative. For as long as Nedor had been patronized by Vicini Belloria had been his messenger. She was a fine and capable warrior and very eloquent in speech. Rumor had it that she had even represented Vicini at Pompii council meetings, a most unusual task for a mere messenger. The General thought of her more as Vicini’s second in command rather than a mere messenger. That Vicini would send her here, to this frontier outpost at war, spoke of the magnitude of the message. What ever she had to say was of the utmost importance.

In a few moments a tall striking woman with her fiery red hair pinned back in a tail entered the general’s tent. She bowed her head and offered the appropriate salute between two Knights of Pompii. A man clad in silver armor bearing a crimson cloak followed her; he appeared formidable indeed.

Belloria, it agreeable to see you again. The general said graciously.

You are most kind general Nedor. She released his hand and turned to the man in her wake.

General, I wish to introduce you to General Tacticullus.

Nedor simply tilted his head sideways. I sent a letter to Vicini two weeks ago recommending Vinciano as my replacement. Did he not receive the letter?

Belloria stepped forward speaking softly. Do not worry my friend. General Taticullus is here, for now, as an observer.

Nedor turned away and strode towards the map on the wall. Would you like to hear what I am working on currently?

She turned to Tacticullus and spoke a few words in private. The general donned his helmet and exited Nedor’s tent. She shed her cloak and allowed her hair to fall out of the tail. General, if you don’t mind I will remove some of these things before we speak.

Nedor sat in a nearby chair and picking up a glass of wine drank as the woman released her armor and sword. As she removed her equipment Nedor continued to speak staring at the map. Glavin took the bait.  He’s been stuck in the valley for the last ten days moving slowly.  Hadrian has done an excellent job of slowing him down. Onxicoten is a fool and is driving himself further and further into our trap.

How much longer would you say this will take? the tall red head asked sliding her slender frame into the seat across from the general. He rose and provided her a glass of wine as well.

In two days he will be at the marshes of Gizardo. If he crosses the ford on the morning of the third day I have him. In one weeks time I can tell you how much we have accomplished. He watched her response, it betrayed nothing.

Nedor, we have a problem. Belloria said simply, leaning forward. He waited for her to continue and after a moment she did. Alexander utterly failed. He failed to take into account how the Cosmos can change and alter events. In short he underestimated the Barbarians again. He cannot properly employ the skills that reside on this side of the River.  He floundered, unable to bring all our resources fully to bear and thus failed. We were unprepared for the loss of representation. It was very costly indeed.

Nedor shook his head. I told you he would fail.  Do you remember me speaking to Vicini three years ago about this? Alexander speaks Latin but his heart is not Roman. He tries to play this game by their rules, and that doesn’t work; on this side of the River or on that side. It takes a combined effort merging the resources and coordinating the work to win. 

She shook her head. If it consoles you Vicini was against the appointment as well.

It does not console me. What is the damage and the cost to the order and ultimately to Rome?

She took another drink. His patchoret has been liquidated entirely. He has been removed from the position. The question is what to do with him once he is removed. He knows too much to just-turn loose.

Is he to be exiled, cut off? Nedor asked somewhat anxiously.  As much as he disliked Alexander and totally disagreed with his methods being exiled seemed too strong.

I think they are talking about moving him to the Knights of York. The two orders are thinking about an exchange. They are interested in his abilities and might have use for him.    

York might be a place for him. His skills are better suited for promotion in the Universe than countering Barbarian activity there. Who will we receive from the Knights of York in exchange? Nedor asked curious himself.

That is what brings me to you.

Nedor raised his eyebrow. Oh? Interesting.  Some how I am involved in this deal?

The Roman Senate is furious with the order of Pompii about this failure. However, they understand that York pushed for the appointment of Alexander. Vicini has been pushing his view very hard and people are now listening where they were not so willing three years ago. He’s proposing to use Alexander’s patchoret as a restart and reestablish a Pompii presence in that city. Instead of using the York model he has pushed yet again that the order of Pompii should resemble the Knights of Magellan or Knights of Rome. She paused for a moment allowing the information to sink in.

What does the Roman Senate say? Nedor asked leaning forward. Much of this conversation sounded very familiar to the general. He had pushed for this very change in leadership philosophy three years previously. It had failed, Vicini agreed with Nedor’s idea and pushed for it but the order of Pompii had accepted the Knights of York’s proposition and they had obviously paid for it in failure.

The Roman Senate is bent on the Liaison option. They don’t really care which model of leadership the Knights of Pompii employ. However, for the Order it is a contentious issue and the Pompii council debated it extensively. Vicini was promoting you as the man to replace Alexander. He is arguing that attacking the Barbarians directly and indirectly is the best approach, not just trying to promote our ideals.

Ahh.  Nedor finally begins to understand the heart of the issue. Vicini is using me as the exemplar.

Exactly.

Who’s the other option? he asked innocently.

Up until two weeks ago Beohadrian has been pushing for Menalaus of Norboa.

Menalaus. Wasn’t he Alexander’s right hand man?   

Belloria nodded. He was.  Beohadrian has great confidence in his ability, and with good reason. Menalaus was heavily involved in the Cyprus deal. It was also his testimony before the Pompii leadership council that ultimately led to Alexander’s dismissal.  Alexander wasn’t just a poor fit he is a poor leader.

Too True.  Nedor paused for a moment and then realized what she had said earlier. A moment ago you said up until two weeks ago. What other names are on the table?

There were no other names. Menalaus was presented another opportunity. The Knights of Rome offered him an opening that he liked better. Other than Menalaus no one was as qualified to create a Patchoret from nothing like you.

Are they offering me this appointment now?

Yes.  My task was to come and speak with you personally and in an unofficial capacity describe the situation so that you understand what is going on back in Rome. She cleared her throat and stood. In an official capacity I am authorized on behalf of the Knights of Pompii to offer you the twenty third Patchoret.

Nedor did not respond right away he stood from his seat and stood beside Belloria’s chair. After a few moments of silence he said, You two did it.  The general turned and walked away from her, he strode over to his armor resting upon its stand. He watched the light bounce off the gold plating and reflected for a few moments upon the developments. Eventually he spoke but without turning towards her. He’s been writing to me about some of this, very general mind you completely lacking specifics.  The last two letters he’s hinted at a promotion.  That’s why I recommended Vinciano.

Nedor turned around and watched her as she reached into her satchel and withdrew a scroll. The details of the offer are here. The question is- she stared at him intently. What do you want to do now general? If you refuse this appointment I doubt Vicini will promote your name for anything else again.

Is that a threat? Nedor asked turning towards her slowly.

No, it is reality.  Command is enjoyable Nedor; success is exciting and the reward is right in front of you for all your hard work.  However, Vicini needs you to take this position.  The Knights of Pompii need you, whether they realize it or not, to bring a new view, a fresh perspective to the order. Will you take that opportunity?

What exactly is the offer Belloria? What are the resources? You said earlier that they liquidated everything.  With what am I to work?

You created your Region without resources of any kind. Belloria responded nearly in jest.

Yes, that town is hardly the size of the twenty third Patchoret.  There was no other Roman presence no other Orders to contend with; we didn’t even have a patron. Nedor said starting to feel overwhelmed.

Yet you created a Region, you found others in and outside of the Knights of Pompii and here you are five years later: your Region has a business. You employ people you bring in funds and Champaign has become a safe house and a way station. That, my friend is excellent work.

Nedor stood in his command tent looking at the battle map for the Kebor River. How can I abandon this army as it stands on the verge of battle?  He turned and faced her. This army was tasked with holding the Kebor River.  If everything goes as planned we could take Clovisville. We could-

The tall red headed woman strode towards him confidently. Nedor. You have great confidence in Vinciano and for good reason. Allow him to fight this battle. He can conquer Onxicoten you said so yourself. Allow him to execute your plan, allow him to fight this crucial battle. The appointment of Vinciano as your replacement is not yet certain. He needs someone to fight for that. Only the leader of a Patchoret could champion his cause to become a general. Return with me. Accept the appointment, come with me to Rome and champion his cause before the Military Council.

Nedor listened to her and she was speaking wise words, just ones that he didn’t want to hear. Belloria, it is little wonder that Vicini uses you as his ambassador. You are quite persuasive.

She smiled. I know. That’s why he keeps me around. Let’s finish up here with some details, by your peace?

The great general was subdued by her wisdom. He sat at his desk and cracking the seal of the scroll he unrolled it. How do I execute this on the other side of the River?

Belloria pulled her chair next to his own. You will receive over two hundred and fifty million. You see the address here.  She pointed at an address written on the scroll. You are to contact this merchant and request for this person to oversee your affairs, that will signify your acceptance of the position. I warn you do not accept the two hundred and fifty million without doing this.

The general smiled. I’m not a fool Belloria.

He paused for a moment as if listening to something. He did not move or make a noise. Then suddenly sighing deeply Nedor looked at the messenger. Belloria. I am out of time. I must ask you to return to your tent. In the morning I will speak with you again and I will leave with you for Rome tomorrow afternoon.  She rose swiftly as if she understood what had transpired.

By your peace, general I will see you in the morning.

By mid afternoon we should be on the road to Rome. He said, then stepping to the rear area of his tent he called one of his slaves. He sent the slave to send a message to Vinciano and set up an appointment in the morning. The two would speak in the morning and Nedor would give him specific guidance for the next two