By nighttime, thunder rumbled overhead, particularly faraway.
"Such unforgiving night gales." Typhus muttered, gazing towards the pitch black landscape beyond the dimly illuminated command tent. "Those trees look like they're going to snap with just a little bit more leverage."
Other than the moderately rippling fabric and occasionally worrisome chatter, the whimper of creaking wood echoed from faraway. But then, when he heard a firm taut outside, he peered beyond the entryway, spotting and nodding at the young legionary who fastened one of the ropes on his tent. He withheld the urge to sigh with relief, especially since he came outside and began walking down the irregular aisles of tents.
Some of the men were sound asleep; others were exchanging laughters and chuckling; few were quivering in their hammocks. Against his better judgement, however, he retained his white cape, which was billowing in the nighttime winds. Despite shivering beneath his cuirass and galea, he dared not to touch his cape, especially not in front of the legionnaires; however, he stopped upon noticing one of the guards at the edge of the entire encampment, his knees subtly shivering with from the lack of proper insulation.
Before he could help him, he heard footsteps from some nearby tents, prompting him to turn and leave. But on his way there, he noticed the ropes on some of the tents slowly becoming undone. So, the legatus stomped each spike back into place, the inhabitants of the third/last tent hearing the muffled thumping, promptly stammering outside to find their commander, who curtly nodded at them before he casually left.
When he returned to the command tent, he finally removed his galea and cape, a silent legionary exchanging them for a brown bearskin coat.
"My lord, Legatus Hepatitis had arrived a few moments ago." The legionary said. "He is waiting in your quarters."
"Hmm." Typhus grunted and curtly nodded, drawing the drapes back to find Hepatitis sitting at Typhus' bureau.
"Hello, Typhus. You never suspect such organisation from me, do you?" The bald and shaven legatus said warmly.
Behind Typhus' modestly full beard, he softly smirked, otherwise entering unfazed as Hepatitis said. "You look like you been out for a walk."
"Had much to contemplate." Typhus half-lied, relinquishing the curtain and plopping onto his lectus, his rightward ribs leaning on his pillows.
"That didn't look like much."
Typhus simply ignored him and stared at the canvas before him.
"By the Gods, that wind..." Hepatitis said as he lowered his stylus and stared at the mildly rippling ceiling. "If this keeps up, we might have to call this The Tempest Gate Expedition. I've never seen such strong winds in such rugged inland woods, not like this."
"Neither have I." Typhus muttered.
"Now about th..."
"Ah, ah, hold that thought for a moment. Where were you throughout the day?"
"Preparing your lil surprise, Typhus."
"The speculators."
"Mhm." He hummed slowly.
"Good. Say no more. I'll see to them in the morning. However, that still doesn't answer my question."
"Well...if you want to take a guess at your surprise, you will herein find your answer."
"Flavius, I am not in the mood for childish games. I lost six of my horses to unknown causes, including nine more to insect bites. I'm fortunate I haven't lost any of my men, but that won't last forever. The welfare of my legion is really starting to gnaw at me, as they always do."
"You're worried."
"Yes, I am, old friend. If I was like any other legatus, I would be sleeping soundly and easily. But I'm a father of ten and lost everyone but two of my boys. I mean, look around us, Hepatitis. You and I are literally leading young men into combat, most having never experienced the hardships of life. Yes, indeed, I am more than just worried."
"They are some of the finest warriors not in the empire, but also the entire world."
"OUR world, my friend. Our world, but not this one." Typhus said, suddenly raising his left finger and lowering it when he then said. "Which is why I pray for those speculators like an addiction. I promised my men that they would bring glory to the empire and they shall live to see it for every expedition under my command. I will never throw their lives away for my own gain, especially after the Tunisia Expedition."
"I know, Typhus. I was there when they brought your boys to the Imperial Mausoleum. We both know they didn't die in vain."
"Don't go there." The bearded legatus pointed and said lowly, his fist shaking mildly before lowering it. "Don't go there, Flavius. You weren't there 14 years ago. And you certainly weren't reflecting on your own arrogance for 14 years like I had since."
"You can't keep living in the past forever, Orientia." Hepatitis faced Typhus and said. "Unfortunately, if I must say, the Empire only sees gains, not losses. The Gate is a miracle that only happens in a great once in a while, which in of itself is an excellent opportunity to repay their losses."
"Well, not with my legion they aren't. And I don't care if they're my own flesh and blood or not. After all, I'm the one writing each and every letter to their families for every one that perishes. That's one father, brother, or son being taken away from them, and I will not let them share the same pain like I did."
"Is that why your legion is equipped with the newly-developed segmentatas and scutums?"
Before Typhus could respond, the legionary from earlier opened the curtains and said. "My lord, it's the speculators. They are here."
Typhus momentarily stared at the legionary, Hepatitis swearing he saw a glint in his eyes. Then, he arose and carelessly passed his coat to the legionary, exiting his quarters.