“If you truly wish to honor Adam’s legacy, our independence must be recognized! We can hold our own, as the scars upon my arms can show!”

  - Ruth the Uniter, to the Senate of Primus, translated by fellow Godshard Sheba from Benelim Sign Language to Early Cradlen.

  Evidently, the cleaning crews haven’t started their work yet, Leo thought as he shuffled along. His head pounded, and he struggled to keep his eyes open. Navigating through the gauntlet of debris, dirty clothes, scattered ales, and bottles. He turned one corner and hit a dreadful smell of urine and feces. It stank the whole place up. Mercifully, he spotted the brown mass before he stepped in it.

  With a groan, he sped to the other side of the street. He’d be most grateful if he could avoid encountering anything like that again on his journey to the lodge. Alas, what else could be expected after such a grand celebration? At least the world had stuff worth celebrating still. There are worse troubles one can encounter.

  Despite this, Leo was starting to feel a sense of repetition. He would campaign, fighting Maelim, spawns of the Nameless One, harpies, ghouls, and the occasional monstrous leviathan. Giovanni would be so proud of him; it would have been living the dream. In practice, he merely survived, came back, drank it up, and the cycle began again.

  True, he was rising in station, but then what? Would he retire? Was he merely waiting for his turn to die? The increased tenacity of his foes was unnerving. He went into this life to make the world a better place, to ensure no one would go through what he and Giovanni did. But was he really doing that? Or was he merely treating the symptoms, not the disease? Was it even possible to do anything more? He felt particularly grumpy as these thoughts lingered in his head; maybe the hangover was hitting him particularly hard. Or perhaps he was still embittered over the conversation with Elizabeth.

  Leo grew stone-faced. No. He would not let Elizabeth ruin his mood for a second day in a row. It was time to be the bigger person and move on. Think about the positives. His chest was feeling much better, and aside from the usual butcher’s bill, he kept the locals of Venito in check. Mission accomplished. He smiled; at least he had that.

  Then he turned another corner, and the morning sun hit him right in the temples. “Oh, Gods!” His eyes were plastered shut, slinging swears as he tried to find some shade.

  He leaned against a building and groaned. Thank the Gods, he was almost there.

  Another corner, and there it was. The lodge, the headquarters of the Guardia Grifone.

  It was a rustic building with several stories surrounded by a great stone wall topped with spikes—a fortress within a fortress. Leo approached the gate. It opened promptly with a grinding of metal.

  On the grounds were training dummies, wooden weapons, and targets. A couple of crossbowmen were firing at some hanging targets near the back. They were being lectured by Antonio, who held his own crossbow. His aim was better, despite only having one eye.

  Michael was there, too, sparring with another fellow. There was greater fierceness in his eyes than before. He looked more driven, more serious. It was good to see. Nico crossed his arms and kept an eye on them as they fought. They looked over to Leo and gave a quick salute. He smiled and waved them off.

  The lodge’s interior was decidedly grander than what many would expect. The floors were black granite, and in the center of the room was a great marble statue of a man on a griffon, standing proud and triumphant. It was dark grey with hints of gold adorning it. All members of the guardia knew him.

  Stephanos was his name. Prima Generale of their compagnia. More than a century ago, he and a bunch of rag-tag venditori sought to make a name for themselves. Their success and infamy grew from there. Legend says Caelus himself was pleased with their work and sent a griffon to him, accepting him as its rider. The very same griffon that his current generale rides today. Thus, the Guardia Grifone was born. At least, that’s what they say. Leo personally didn’t know how much of it was true.

  Leo passed the statue, walking toward a set of stairs leading to a mezzanine and the officers’ quarters. He promptly walked toward Augustino’s office and knocked.

  “Come in!” Generale Augustino was at his desk, parchments and medals laid about. In the back were coffers, a stocked bookshelf, and his suit of armor on its stand, freshly polished. He was waiting patiently, politely, hands closed together.

  He wasn’t alone. Avella was there, standing in front of the desk. Julia and Ricardo were there as well, on either side of Augustino.

  Augustino grinned and said, “Ah, Leo. Just the man I was hoping to see.”

  Avella nodded. “I told you he was going to show up early.”

  Leo tilted his head as he closed the door behind him. “Er . . . yes. Reporting for duty, Signore.”

  “How’s your chest?” asked Julia in her usual soft tone. “Did the remedy help?”

  “It did; thank you so much for the advice.”

  “Of course.” Julia nodded to the others.

  “I think it’s time to get to business. We have some matters to discuss,” said Avella.

  “Indeed,” said Augustino as he reached into his desk and pulled out a stuffed envelope. He stood up and walked to Leo. “It is my privilege to promote you to tenente!”

  “Tenente?” Leo cursed himself for how dumb he sounded.

  “Indeed,” said Augustino with a hearty chuckle. “That is our first order of business; we need another tenente, and by merit, I decree it be you. Your performance at the liberation was exceptional and not just to us at the guardia.” He gestured to Avella, who nodded in agreement. “The envelope contains a bonus, the additional feathers for your officer cap, and a medal to be placed on your tabard. Capitano Nico will be taking over your detachment. We’ll figure out if we want to promote a new Capitano later. Congratulations, Tenente Leo.”

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  Everybody in the room clapped as Leo took the envelope. He smiled widely and saluted. “Thank you, Signore. It is an honor.” He was beaming with pride. Never would he have thought he’d get this far. His profession is one of blood and death; sometimes, surviving one battle can be an achievement. For the moment, things were good.

  “Per your new promotion, you will also get a pay raise. However, you will also get more responsibilities, and you are to be privy to affairs that affect us and will have a voice in our decisions. I’m not just talking about battlefields; things at work and dynamics are at play for balance. Our compagnia plays a big part in these. Tenente Ricardo will help you get into the swing of things since he’s been doing this for years.”

  Ricardo nodded and said, “I’ll bring him up to speed in no time Signore.”

  “Do you understand Leo?” asked the generale.

  “Yes, Signore.” Leo hid his nervousness. It wasn’t like he wasn’t grateful for the position, but he didn’t expect to be involved in such matters. He thought it was all in the hands of Augustino. He didn’t know if he was smart enough for this kind of thing. But there was nothing he could do now. He’d made his choice.

  “Good man. We move on to your first assignment. I will let a more qualified voice explain.”

  Avella drew up a sack and pulled out a familiar appendage.

  The dread-wasp leg.

  “Do you know what this is?” asked Avella. Leo nodded. “Dread-wasps are rightly feared but far from the most powerful thing our enemies have at their disposal.”

  “Perhaps,” said Leo. “Although underestimating the spawn of the Nameless One is most unwise.” Avella’s eyes narrowed. She began to glow, and her feet lifted off the ground. Leo stood up and backed away slowly, eyes wide. He looked at the others; they were all unconcerned. Augustino was even smoking a pipe. Julia was the only one who looked nervous, but it seemed more for him than for herself.

  “I am not someone to be trifled with!” Her voice boomed with unnatural strength. “With my power, I should have been able to burn that hive to the ground!” Her eyes glowed brighter. “Understand and listen, for a Godshard’s knowledge is great, and so is their power.”

  She landed gracefully on the floor. Leo gawked, he felt out of his depth, and they hadn’t even started yet. “And that is what concerns us. You saw for yourself how the hive was still standing, right?” Leo quickly nodded. “When we were at the hive wall, you asked me what I had seen. Well, it was the same as what was on this leg.” She held the leg toward Leo. She pointed at a mysterious marking on the leg. It was a strange shape, depicting a boar’s head with a lion’s mane and a coiling serpent’s body beneath. This was strange. Very strange. Leo had always taken the dread-wasps for mindless or at least incapable of such writing and artistry.

  “What is it?” asked Leo,

  “You recognize the concern, but your speculation is off.” Her ability to read him was uncanny. He felt exposed and vulnerable. Like no secret or thought was private. “The brand you see is the mark of the daemon.”

  The room deadened, and Leo felt uneasy. “Why would a daemon . . . mark be on a spawn of the Nameless One?” Avella did not answer Leo at first. She glanced at the others, who were also silent. That’s when Leo understood. All of the fear and awe washed away as he leaned in. “You don’t know, do you?”

  Leo handed the leg back to her. “Now you see why we must address this,” said Avella. “This mark seems to be some product of daemon magic. I cannot begin to guess what it does other than make it harder for these things to be killed, even by magical means.”

  “We must know how this came to be and how far this unholy alliance has spread,” added Augustino.

  “But first, I must consult those of greater power and wisdom than myself—other Maghi. But the Island City is too far away. Fortunately, there is a powerful Mago in Raveno. And that is where you come in.”

  “You are to guard Maga Avalon on her travels. At least until she gets to Raveno and back,” said Augustino.

  Leo was confused. All this build-up . . . to be a bodyguard? It sounded rather mundane, considering the stakes. Almost easy even. Then again, why does someone as powerful as Avella need a bodyguard?

  “You wonder why someone as powerful as me even needs a bodyguard?” asked Avella. Her eyes flickered; just for a moment, Leo saw something. Shame? Fear? “We don’t know what to expect; there might be foes who ordinarily wouldn’t be able to take on someone like me, but with new tactics like this brand, they might feel emboldened.”

  “Do you understand what is required of you, Tenente?” asked Augustino, stern as ever.

  “Yes, Signore,” replied Leo.

  “Good man. Remember your training and what you are. You are a tenente of the Guardia Grifone. Embrace this, and do not be afraid. Take this time to gather your gear. Tenente Ricardo will show you around. Feel free to ask him any questions you have before you go. You will meet Maga Avalon at the temple in two hours. May the God’s favor be upon you, Tenente Leo.”

  ……………….

  Tenente Ricardo was a most helpful soul. Leo spent the next hour with him as he showed him his new office. It was similar to Augustino’s, but smaller and emptier. Leo could probably bring some stuff from his place, and it would make his office feel a little like home. Ricardo was thorough as he explained to Leo the current state of affairs. He even confirmed a lot of things Leo had suspected for a while.

  In particular, the nature of their contracts. Essentially their guardia held a standing garrison for Tressviae. Ricardo was in charge since he was too old to be in active combat. Tressviae paid handsomely for this service. The contract wasn’t exclusive; they were entitled to seek other clients simultaneously.

  Leo was overwhelmed by the number of things taken into account—the various rates they used, the logistical planning, the training of recruits, and the distribution of manpower—which was on top of the geopolitics.

  Their guardia had found itself involved in the political affairs of the town. Ricardo was never fond of that; he believed that the well-being of their compagnia should come first. But Generale Augustino insisted on helping, said it made them look good and would get them more clients. But Ricardo was gravely concerned since the current situation was getting dangerous.

  Traditionally, the Conti of Tressviae owes allegiance to the Signori of Raveno. The problem was the previous Conte had been killed several years prior. Officially, it had been due to a Maelim warband, but rumors of assassination persisted. Until Conte Emanuele came of age, Salvatore and Angela had been running the show.

  Generale Augustino wasn’t supposed to have a say, but he had effectively become the third ruling voice of the town. They were desperate to keep Tressviae run by the locals and not by some ambitious aristocrat from Raveno like Principe Filippo.

  Leo had no idea how bad the tensions were between the two cities. He tried to follow along, but the information was buzzing around in his head. There was so much to keep track of.

  “Everything okay?” asked Ricardo.

  Leo snapped back to the moment. “Yeah, sorry.”

  “Anyways, that’s the gist of it. We must keep people here happy and those in Raveno off our backs. Most importantly, we must de-escalate any potential conflicts. Salvatore has been doing excellent work so far in that regard. Let’s hope that continues. If it ever came to a contest of arms, we would lose. Raveno has more men and more money. It would be terrible.”

  “I see.”

  Ricardo frowned. “Something troubles you; let’s hear it.”

  His directness put off Leo. “It’s just overwhelming, is all. I had no idea there was so much to this stuff.”

  Ricardo nodded. “It’s to be expected; there’s more to being a mercenario than fighting, looting, and dying.”

  “Indeed. Can I be honest with you?”

  “Of course.”

  “I-I don’t know if Generale Augustino made the right choice. Do you think I’m ready?”

  Ricardo smiled sagely, and he put a hand on his shoulder. “I believe you are. You’ve always been a good ragazzo. You have a good head on your shoulders, and you ain’t stupid.”

  “Hmph, I wouldn’t go that far.”

  “You’re smarter than you think, Leo. You broke it off with that northerner woman; she was holding you back. You’ve grown so much quicker since then. You’ll be fine; you’ll see.”

  “If you say so.”

  He patted Leo on the back. “Atta boy. Now you best get on your way. Good luck, fellow tenente.”