The Ides of March
March 4 / 2282
As a rule, men worry more about what they can't see than about what they can.
Today, Lanius arrived at the Fort.
I watched the arrival from atop Fortification Hill, right outside my war tent. Praetorian guards, Lucius at my side, surrounded me but I still felt unprotected as the gray light of the early morning hit upon the Legion war camp. Almost all of my legionnaires had gathered at the North gate to the camp, compelled to see the arrival of our dreaded Legate.
Men feared the dangerous right up until the point that they needed dangerous. After that, it was all open arms and immense gratitude until the dangerous were no longer needed. Such was the pitiful lives of the Profligates outside my rule, leeching off the protection of the Bear until my Legion no longer threatened them. My Frumentarii had confirmed as much after the first battle for Hoover Dam. The people of Vegas were ready to revolt against the NCR, but only after they used their benefactors to stop me. Such people could not be allowed to govern themselves.
I would not stop until the flag of the Bull hung from the immense spire of the Lucky 38, would not stop until my legionnaires brought the casinos down into dust and rubble, would not stop until the NCR was pushed back to the west coast and driven into the sea.
I wondered if Lanius shared those same ideals.
His war party looked immense, but I knew that this was just a fraction of the full Legion's might. The Legate surrounded himself only with the best, and as I watched his veterans enter into my camp, the sun shining upon their metal armor, their guns and machetes catching the light from nearby fires, I couldn't help but feel a worn smile cross my face.
It had been a long time since I first found the Blackfoot tribe, groveling in the dirt like the animals that they were, and my army of slaves had come far since then. Finally, my Legion once again had an army worthy of capturing a mighty capital, and a general worthy enough to bring us a glorious victory.
Vulpes was less excited about the idea.
Before the Legate and I discussed matters of state and war, he offered to begin the first of many sacrificial offerings to the gods, praising them and asking for a mighty battle worthy of song. I could hardly refuse, and so the Legion gathered on Fortification Hill, hundreds upon hundreds of legionnaires on bended knee before the flag of the Bull. We had torn down the tents and the makeshift arena in anticipation of the Legate's arrival, and so we barely had enough space to fit the veteran legionnaires upon the hill. The recruits, slaves, and children each relied upon their own ceremonies, conducted by my loyal priestesses spread out amongst the camp.
I stood to the side, my arms folded, my face the perfect countenance of calm determination, with the Praetorians closed tightly around me. On one side stood Lucius, the captain of my guard. On the other stood Vulpes Inculta, leader of the Frumentarii and the master of the spy network. It was an impressive entourage.
But the Legate stood alone.
A mighty bonfire had been lit in front of my tent, the smoke and embers drifting upwards into the red noon sky. The Bull standard danced above the inferno, its emblem stretching and curling and twisting like the animal it depicted rather than a piece of fabric. And, to the right of the bonfire, were seven prisoners of war, soon to be sacrificed in the name of my Legion.
Standing in front of the fire, back turned to the legionnaires, was Lanius, the greatest of my soldiers. He was certainly an imposing figure, a head taller than the average man, armed in shining gold armor with the massive Blade of the East upon his back.
With the ceremonial mask upon his face, he almost looked like the god Mars himself.
But I knew better. I knew what dwelled underneath the mask. It was the one advantage I had over the Legate.
Lanius slowly turned about to face the legionnaires, the fire reflecting off his mask to make it shine and glow like the Sun. He didn't say a word, but instead he bowed his head low, prompting his soldiers to do the same.
"When you die, he will make an awful Caesar."
Embarrassingly, I jumped at the words, delivered as a low whisper into my ear. But it was only Vulpes, leaning in close to me with his eyes fixated on the Legate. Lucius raised an eyebrow at this, but took the hint and stepped back, leaving me alone with the Fox.
I glared at Vulpes, but he didn't return the gaze. "You presume much about me and my Legate. I would check your poisonous tongue before it gets you killed." Turning back to Lanius, I shook my head angrily. The leader of the Frumentarii was a snake; as he must be, but his endless talk of conspiracy and treason was enough to draw my anger during these last few critical days. I needed everything prepared and set when I reach the Rubicon, and I couldn't do that if the Fox kept reminding me of the dragon on my heels.
"I don't presume, my lord." Smiling, my spymaster turned his dark eyes to me. "I know. That is my duty, and I do it well."
The Legate walked over to the first prisoner in line, a man dressed in a white jumpsuit with the two-headed Bear upon his back. An engineer for Hoover Dam, apparently caught while taking an illegal smoke break on the far side of the Dam. He couldn't stop himself from letting out a terrified squeal as Lanius approached him, a long skinning knife in his iron hands.
Watching the disemboweling was not sickening to me, after all this time, but I glanced away all the same towards Vulpes, watching the same event with as much dignity as he could muster. Vulpes Inculta was no stranger to this kind of brutality either, but he didn't have the same religious fervor my Legate had, or at least pretended to have.
Inclining his head towards the butcher, he continued yet again with his petty manipulations. "I speak of the future, Caesar, be it immediate or far. When you die and return to the heavens, he will take your place unless killed himself. And he will drive us into the ground."
After the screaming stopped, the Legate threw the spilled carcass onto the bonfire. The fire crackled hungrily as the engineer fell atop the burning timbers, swallowing up the man before he could let out another scream for desperate aid. I had half a mind to throw Vulpes on there, just to get him to shut the fuck up. "If any of my lieutenants are in doubt, Vulpes, it is you. Where exactly do your loyalties lie?"
For once, I seemed to silence the Frumentarii efficiently. A few pregnant moments of pause slipped into the conversation, giving me a chance to regain my composure and return to the ceremony. Vulpes took a step back, his head bowed before me. "Of all your lieutenants, Caesar, you need worry about me the least."
I sighed. If anything, Vulpes was telling me truth for once. I had known him since he was a boy, and he owed his continued survival to me. His old superior had wanted him crucified and placed before my throne in Flagstaff, but I decided a use for him and gave him this new position. No, Vulpes's loyalty to me was not in question.
His loyalty to the Legion and the Caesar that ruled it was a different story.
In the evening, I received the Legate Lanius in my war tent.
Vulpes Inculta was missing from the meeting, and of all my senior officers, Lucius was the only one to overhear what transpired between Lanius and me. All of my other generals were either on route to Hoover Dam or were already in position, drilling their troops endlessly in final preparations for the battle. Of course, it would not start with Lanius marching around the Colorado to meet me here, and so the battle would be delayed until he could return. Needless to say, he was in a hurry.
After only a few steps inside my tent, the Legate dropped to his knees upon seeing me in the throne. "Caesar dictator."
"Rise." I immediately answered. The Legate obeyed me.
There was no warmth between the two of us. Unlike Vulpes, who I met as a promising young man, or Lucius, who was nearly as old as I was, I never raised any illusions as to the purpose of Lanius. He was a butcher, a murderer, a killer, a true Monster of the East. I was not a friend with him; I was not a comrade in arms with him. My role required that I use him as an instrument of my will, and his role required that he obey my every command without doubt. There was no room there for friendship.
The first Legate shared the same characteristics, though it was not only so. During that simpler time when we both had real names, there had been friendship. There had been a sense of camaraderie. Despite our differences in backgrounds and outlooks, we managed to laugh and smile and enjoy each other's company. I did not bear any significant love for him, nor was his absence dearly missed from my life. He was simply a friend, but that was a rare thing in the fucked up world I had been in.
But then I became Caesar, and he became the Malpais Legate. Once we assumed our new roles, any friendship we had quickly died. As he continued to perform atrocities at my bidding, destroying any opposition found in Arizona, we slowly fell apart. And when he failed me utterly and completely, the order to destroy him came easily to my lips.
But as I watched him plummet into the Grand Canyon, the fire wrapped around him and burning his flesh before my very eyes, I couldn't stop the strong sense of regret that had welled up in my stomach. It was a reflex to watching what was once a friend become destroyed by my own hand, and I quickly subdued any grief I might experience. The new Legate would not be a friend, I told myself. The new Legate would be someone that I detested, that I hated, but also respected.
With Lanius, I had the iron mask separating us to remind myself of his nature.
His voice, cold as a knife ripping through hot skin, cut through the space between us. "The last centurions from Flagstaff are arriving at my camp as we speak. The full might of the assembled Legion will drive across the Dam with ease."
Shaking my head, I leaned forward in my seat. "That is good. But your predecessor said much the same to me before the first battle, and he was cut down by his own confidence and stupidity. You must be cunning, Legate, and show patience. Rome will not be built in a day."
If anyone else repeated what I had just said to Lanius, he would have cut them down before they reached the end of their command. But I was Caesar, and while I still drew breath, the Legion and its Legate would bow before me.
Still, that didn't stop him from folding his arms and drawing his chin up. Figuratively speaking. "The first Legate was a fool to fall to the Rangers of the Bear. But with their Chief dead, the Rangers will show no such strength on this second battle. You have little to fear."
"Do I?" I raised my hand in wave, indicating the far side of the Colorado. "Eighty-six tribes against the nine states of the Bear, the Brotherhood of Steel, the Boomers in Nellis, and this new Securitron army? It will not be an easy battle, Lanius."
The Legate made a grunting noise, and bowed his head before me. "I understand, Caesar."
I nodded. "It is good that you do. In hoc signo taurus vinces." Under the sign of the Bull, you will win. "Vulpes tells me that President Kimball of the NCR will be arriving at the Dam on the twelfth. Our Frumentarii will assassinate him, and the Bear will weep for his death. A day after Kimball lies dead, pitch your camp on the far side of the Dam and begin the attack."
At this, Lanius clearly became angered. His voice, crawling out from under the mask, seethed with contempt. "You rely too much on Vulpes and his shadows."
"I will not hear a single word spoken against Vulpes, Lanius." I roared, with more strength than I was expecting to use. Silence prevailed in the camp as I lowered my voice drastically. "I am hereby entrusting the battle to you. I must remain here, but I will hear word of your battle soon enough."
The Legate bowed before me, and turned about to leave the tent immediately. I watched him walk away from me, and noticed how tightly his hands were clenched, his hard his footsteps became. I frowned, and leaned back in my throne as he left the tent completely.
Perhaps Vulpes was correct in some ways, I mused.
And that was when the tumor hit me.