"If one member of the arban [unit of ten] fled but the other nine did not, the whole unit was killed. Likewise, if an arban fled but the jaghun [unit of a hundred] to which it belonged did not, all 100 men were nevertheless executed." The Mongol Art of War, Timothy May
We departed from Laure in the early afternoon, after the contractor had picked up two additional recruits, Betsy and Andre. It was both a surprisingly large harvest for a settlement the size of Laure and a worrisome sign for my future deployment.
While Mazus had only conducted a single census directly after the conquest, said statistic still included a few thousand residents in my age range. And said census was conducted directly after the Field of Streges after the military age population had depleted itself in a 'glorious' last stand. Since the taxes send back to the tower depended on a city's size Laure's administration had never updated the records, but the populace should have recovered by now. There may be as many as fifty potential recruits that had simply slipped through the cracks.
Not only was that wasteful, each unregistered mage was also a huge potential danger. Different from my second life mages here did not require tools created through extensive infrastructure cast their magic. From what little I had observed of construction crews, most sorcerers at most used a simple stick as a foci with some forgoing even that.
Callowan magicians were still a common sight, and very in demand. Praes had not actually outlawed the use of magic, preferring to slowly phase out Callowan-trained mages. It was unsurprising really. For a medieval society, someone who could cleanly cut stone or levitate rock was invaluable. Just the faster construction time alone! It was no wonder that the Kingdom had managed to surround cities like Liesse and Summerholm with walls that would leave the Babylonians green with envy.
Long-term speaking it was a pleasant situation to find myself in. Should the Legions receive an unexpected downsizing, as armies in peacetime are wont to, my job security wouldn't be in any real danger. For my immediate future, however, the thaumaturgic industry was rather worrisome. How hard could it be to convert a spell designed for cutting granite to one for cutting limbs?
Any mage wise enough to lay low after the conquest could train the many untapped recruits. And I felt quite justified in my worry when my fellow recruits explained where came from. The contractor, who still had not introduced himself, had sourced my two fellow conscripts from state-registered, official institutions. Andre was a former apprentice of a potters' school, while Betsy was an imperial ward like me, though from a different orphanage.
It was the latter who pulled me out of my thoughts with her incessant gossiping. "So what do you think about Robert?" I considered for a moment, unsure to whom her question referred. Betsy had regaled our little travel group with stories from her part-time job as a barmaid. I had blended her out quickly. The Empire's roads were smooth enough that I could walk on autopilot, allowing my thoughts to wander. Mainly I was considering the ways I could distinguish myself from my fellow conscripts. I hoped that I might be able to translate some of my historical knowledge into written proposals, as I had in my second life.
Noticing that I was ignoring her, Betsy started pressing her considerable assets against my back. "We girls should stick together. Isn't Rob an idiot?" She whispered in my ear. I was uncomfortable with such close contact. Sadly I had not yet earned my officer's pauldrons and the corresponding protection of strict military etiquette.
"Forgive me, Betsy, I missed your story. While I appreciate your efforts to entertain me on this journey, I would prefer to be left to my thoughts for now."
The former barmaid started scowling but thankfully left me to my own devices. That relief lasted only for a scant few seconds because the girl then slung one of her arms over the shoulders of the contractor. I cringed at the disrespect towards our superior.
Then I noticed a very, very worrisome detail. The heavyset girl was hanging off his illusionary neck. Something which would have been entirely impossible even with the cursed type 95. If illusions in this world could manifest mass if they had physical resistance… I could imagine dozens of scenarios where this completely changed everything I knew about magical warfare. Scratch that, there were hundreds of times when a physical illusion would have been invulnerable in my last life. The best the 203rd ever managed was faking a mana signature for our decoys, but if bullets hadn't been able to pass through them even direct hits would not have given the game away!
I spent the rest of the day's journey considering all the new tactical possibilities that had suddenly opened up. Even after nightfall, when our little troupe had made camp at the roadside, I couldn't stop my mind from wandering. And so, I overheard my fellow conscripts plotting treason.
"If we wait till Summerholm we could slip away into the crowd," Andre whispered.
"But we would have to deal with the Legionaries, if we run tomorrow we should be far enough away from Laure-"
These idiots wanted to desert! It was quite an understandable sentiment, but that did not justify committing a crime! While I also didn't appreciate being drafted into yet another army I was still legally required to do. A society could not function without laws. After all, without laws what guarantee was there for your rights and property to be respected? The market could only function if the participants agreed to follow common rules, laws in other words. Breaking the law demonstrated your unreliability, both as a contractual partner and as a member of society. I could never understand criminals, those who wilfully broke the law. Could they not understand that rules existed to allow people to peruse their personal ambitions in an orderly fashion? There could be no freedom without rules!
The state passed laws in order to guarantee the rights and freedoms of its citizens. Additionally, the state provided services the free market did not supply, like healthcare or roads. Of course, it was called the social contract for a reason. In exchange for these services and guarantees citizens' compensated the state with taxes, or in my particularly unlucky case, military service.
Sadly this symbiosis sometimes was corrupted through human foibles, like corruption or nationalism. If humanity- excuse me, sentient life, would only focus on logical, wealth-generating pursuits there would be no need for wasteful expenditures like armies. Unfortunately in all three of the worlds, I have lived in irrational sentiment was widespread. Even a bastion of calm reasoning such as the modern Dread Empire had to protect itself from widespread foolishness. Truly, what choice had a rational actor surrounded by irrational foes? Drafting all new Callowan mages, crippling their domestic thaumaturgic industry, and expanding the Legions all made little sense from an economic standpoint. If one however considered that the Callowan magical was extremely revanchist, state policy was actually very cost-effective. Paying a few dozen grunts a soldier's salary and receiving a bit fewer taxes was cheaper than rooting out supernatural insurgents. As such, as a proponent of rationalism and good economic sense, it would be hypocritical of me to be against the draft, even if my personal freedoms suffered for it. As a member of society, my fellow recruits and I were required by Law to serve our term. We weren't lawless communists!
Admittedly, it was also somewhat hypocritical to condemn Betsy's and Andre's decision to desert. After all, before my untimely death, I too had been trying to desert to the Allies. I consoled myself with the knowledge that my planned lawbreaking happened in a different context. The Dread Empire was not even at war, and its civilian leadership was not pursuing some ephemeral victory. As Catherine had reminded me, the worst us conscripts would face would be some medieval peasants, not an intercontinental alliance of every power in Calernia.
So, now I had to figure out how to convince my fellow cadets that there was nothing to fear. After all, it would reflect badly on the Callowan crop, and consequently badly on me, if two out of three recruits were executed for desertion. It was quite silly that two untrained teenagers believed that they could escape the infamous 'Eyes', the Empress's personal spy agency. Thanks to them there hadn't even been a single small-scale rebellion over the last decade. I wished the military police in the Rus successor states had been half as effective!
Maybe I could use the fear of that organization as a motivator. Combined with a reminder of what happened to Praesi death row convicts… The two were probably justifying their planned crime with some veneer of patriotism, instead of admitting the actual reason, their panic at joining the Legions, so I probably should also dispel that illusion. I knew better than to dryly list out the reasons against desertion. To my continued disappointment, most people reacted better to emotional speeches than logical ones.
Leaving the warm comfort of my sleeping bag I shuffled over to them. They paused their plotting when they saw me approach. Reflecting a disinterested air I started speaking.
"It seems your blood will fertilize Praesi fields. How disappointing. The Below will be glad."
"What are you tal-"
I did not let the boy finish.
"The punishment for desertion is death."
I paused for a moment, giving them time to contemplate their end. During my second life, I learned that reminding people of their imminent demise would wonderfully focus the mind. It was a shame that I hadn't been allowed to use death threats during my first life. Finally getting everyone attentive during 'boring' meetings would have been magnificent.
"We have the so-called 'gift', magic in other words. For the Empire we have to uses: Either we become mighty mages or we become fuel for a field ritual."
"Or, we could, you know, run the fuck away!" Andre hissed. His eyes were alight with that mixture of fear and defiance that I associate with Catherine. The look of a hot-headed idiot in other words.
"Oh, I am sure you can." Agreeing with your opponent was an excellent way to throw them off balance. From the look of confusion that replaced their scowls, it seemed to work.
"Our captor is asleep now, and probably will keep sleeping for the next few hours." It was important to emphasize that I too was an unwilling draftee. People preferred to hear bad news from their in-group.
"If you run the entire way back to Laure you should be able to slip back in before the gate guards know you are wanted.
Of course, there is no chance of you returning to your old lives. You might avoid law enforcement by fading into the slum. Well, for a few months that is. After all, the church too would be happy to claim your bounty. Without healing magic, cholera is quite deadly you know. Also fairly disgusting. I heard you shit your organ out for three days straight." I gave them a wide smile before continuing.
"Have I mentioned the bounty? I should probably elaborate. You see, 'gifted' field sacrifices are a rarity, a valuable commodity. After you are captured your lives will be auctioned off. You can go for as much as 5000 denarii each!"
It was probably a difficult amount for these two to even contemplate. Even to me, it seemed like an absurd sum. The largest business I ever did the taxes for was the westside tannery, which employed eighty people and only made a quarter of that amount in an entire year. Though I suppose that it was only natural that consumers who lived in a wasteland valued a fertilizer that could invigorate the desert for decades. The Market was Always Right.
"Now, imagine even a fraction of that amount as your bounty. Consider all the criminals in your filthy new home."
"Maybe the slum isn't the right choice then. How about escaping to the countryside? Of course, you would need to avoid the warg search parties. And the bounty hunters. And towns, considering all the guards who want the biggest payday of their entire lives."
"I doubt either of you has much hunting experience, or experience surviving in the wilderness in general. So I guess after avoiding the giant wolfs and their riders you will be unable to just fade into the swamp around Marchford.
So, your only option will be banditry. Robbing our fellow Callowans. Without weapons, I might add. And every time you raid a farmstead, you will leave another scent trail that can be tracked."
"Go. Run away and when you bleed out on that field to feed Praesi scum remember that you died for nothing. The only one who will thank you for your sacrifice will be the rich asshole carving open your veins."
I left them with that mental picture, certain that they wouldn't run tonight. Of course, I had no illusion that my little speech would permanently prevent them from deserting. Over the rest of the journey, I would have to hammer in that lesson and probably also provide some reason for Legion service beyond the fear of punishment. Maybe I could fabricate some threat that the army protected us from? Besides a Callowan revolt of course.
Maybe a Proceran invasion? The Callowans hated the Principate of Procer almost as much as they did the Dread Empire after the former occupied Callow a few centuries back. That seven-decade-long occupation was also a lot bloodier than the current one, under the literal "Evil Empire".
I could probably convince these stooges that the Legions protected their beloved country from evil foreigners.
It was a pretty ridiculous notion, considering Procer was still in the late stages of a twenty-year-long civil war. They weren't in a position to invade anyone, much less an empire in command of the continent's most disciplined army. Not to mention that Procer would also need to cross the Whitecaps, Calernias highest mountain range whose only pass was guarded by multiple veteran Legions. Theoretically, they could also try to march their peasant levies through the Waning Woods or the Golden Bloom, home to monsters and elves respectively. Both were reported to kill all trespassers.
Only an idiot would launch a crusade in these circumstances and Cordelia Hasenbach, the likely civil war winner, was reportedly a very level-headed individual who originated from a very martial principality. She would understand that launching a crusade from such a weak position would only open her up for a counter-invasion.
The wannabe deserters however wouldn't have the strategic knowledge of a conqueror like Hasenbach. Combined with some additional fearmongering it should do the trick. Sighting, I tried to fall asleep. I would need to do a lot of walking and talking before we reached the academy.
Tanya, Betsy reflected, was terrifying. When they met she had seemed like nothing special. A bit introverted, but nothing a bit of teasing wouldn't fix. Then the Chat happened. With just a few words she had kept Andre and herself from making the biggest mistake of their lives. How big of an error they had avoided only became apparent during the following days.
Tanya was not content with scaring the living shit out of them once. No, the very next morning she started regaling the traveling party with stories. She started with famous court cases, or more accurately, the fate of the guilty party. Betsy quickly learned that being bled dry during an hourlong field ritual was one of the most merciful fates for a death-row convict. It only got worse when the still nameless Praesi shared anecdotes about 'private' Soninke justice or how Legionaries treated suspected deserters. The Legions had adopted a system of collective punishment, and the whole 'tenth' might be executed if one of their number fled. As such your comrades were encouraged to pre-emptively punish runners before the officers got to them. Betsy really did not want to become an orc ration. Especially since, according to the Soninke, the easiest way to prevent the meat from spoiling was to keep the meat alive.
When Tanya found the attention of her listeners waning (or, in Betsey's case when the overwhelming terror of a mages' crystal prison got too much) she switched tracks, talking about the oppression Callow suffered under the Procer occupation and how the Dread Legions protected them. On the first day she was disbelieving, Andre even dared to argue that if the Fairfax had never fallen they wouldn't need to worry in the first place. By the third day, she felt less sure. When the party arrived in Summerholm on the fifth day, Betsy somehow felt grateful for the presence of the two most hated Legions. After all, according to Tanya, 'Ironsides' would break a Proceri charge as easily as a knightly one. And the goblins of 'Regicide' could slit Hasenbachs throat as they had the Shining Prince's.
Their captor left them alone in the city, while he went looking for other 'gifted'. Before Tanya educated her, Betsy would have jumped at the chance to escape. It would have been incredibly stupid considering the inconspicuous checkpoints at each street corner. Summerholm, with its storied history as 'the gate of the east' had always been at the forefront of Callowan resistance. Really, it shouldn't have taken the scary girl pointing out the fact that there hadn't been as much as a single riot to understand how tightly surveilled the town was. By the Below, at the bar of their inn sat an Eye who prominently displayed her tattoo.
So, with their escape plans abandoned Betsy and Andre found themselves quite bored. With nothing better to do, they followed Tanya to the library. Helpfully, the brunette pointed out that as one of the only stone constructions of Summerholm it would be amongst the few buildings that might survive a citywide rebellion. She then elaborated, in that fucking cheerful way of hers, how three strategically placed catches of goblinfire could incinerate the entire town.
In the library, Tanya picked out books for her companions. Not wanting to argue with the psycho who contemplated ways of citywide murder, Betsy spent eight miserable hours reading history tomes. Interestingly, the books told much the same story as Tanya had. Well, they told it in a far more dry, less viscerally scary way. The lesson remained the same, however. The second that Praes or Callow achieved total victory Procer invaded. And their occupations lead to far worse things than some overzealous tax collection. Maybe together Praes and Callow could keep the Principate behind the Whitecaps?
After Tanya had terrified the four new recruits into compliance she started to go into hypothetical tangents. There were after all only so many stories about Proceri atrocities and horrific executions. Tanya managed to invent many more scenarios, of how the Legions would shatter anything from the Dead King's hoard to savage elven raiding parties. Rene, one of the new arrivals and the only one who dared to question her military analysis was rebuffed with well-reasoned arguments. It was uncanny. Tanya was just as fresh a cadet as them, but when she spoke it seemed as if she had many years conducting wars.
When the Tower appeared on the horizon the Callowans awaited their magical instruction eagerly. They might not have chosen to become Legionnaires and might have had no choice but to serve, but now they were convinced that they would at least always be on the winning side. They would protect their home under the Legionary standard, as part of the strongest army in Creation!
AN: Did the super duper elite spy really sleep through the desertion talk? (optional skip)
First up, tracking charms exist and will come up later. Weren't a thing in Tanya's second life so she is unsure if they exist and therefore didn't mention them. Now to the question.
Short answer: Maybe
Long answer: Depends on what you see as the goal of the Empire
In the Dread Empire human sacrifice is institutionalized. Because of the shitty farmland of Praes regular field sacrifices are conducted, where a person's life is converted to mana to revitalise the desert. Of important note is that ONLY death row criminals are sacrificed. So, while the demand for human sacrifices is constant the supply is limited. So, as the Praesi government you need to generate more sacrifices, death row inmates in the modern Empire. But you also can't just crib random citizens because that leads to a peasant revolt. So you need to justify whom you sacrifice, convict death row criminals in other words. Now, traveling with a single guard, with malcontents who want nothing more than commit a death row offense seems awfully suspicious.
The alternative interpretation is that the Eye was merely trying to assess their loyalty, the same reason he probably left them alone in Summerholm (or he was still hoping for a runner to convert to juicy profit).
Hells, maybe it was both?
