"Religion is what keeps the poor

from murdering the rich"



Sylvie knew she was special.

She had come into the world with an affinity for magic unequaled in written history, and even before taking her vows, many people already worshipped her as a saint.

Certainly she had a pure and merciful soul like few other people, but caring for orphanages or assisting the sick in sanatoriums were not activities worthy of a Bishop, whose only duty was to live side by side with the noble to whom a Bishop was destined by Conclave, offering advice and assisting him in managing power.

However, Sylvie was too smart not to realize that her appointment had only been the result of the pressure that His Holiness had suffered from the more traditionalist members of the Conclave, who resented the idea of seeing a commoner of humble origins vying for the throne of Gaia.

But she didn't mind the Cardinals' power plays, and all she wanted was to use her talents to help others. It was not for nothing that she specialized in healing spells, which she practiced at a level unattainable even for the most experienced healers.

The plague that had hit Basterwick and was claiming so many lives was one of the worst ever seen, and her arrival had been seen as a blessing by the exhausted people of the city.

Luckily the disease didn't spread through the air, and unless you touched something infected it was difficult to get sick, so for the moment the confinement of the sick inside the city's large sanatorium was helping to control the spread of the contagion.

At the same time, however, it was not the kind of disease that could be eradicated with healing spells, and all Sylvie and her apprentice could do was ease the suffering of the sick in the hope that this would enable them to live long enough to give their bodies time to heal of their own accord, which sadly did not always happen.

Every day at the usual time the mayor and the commander of the garrison visited the sanatorium to ascertain the state of things, obviously through the upper galleries of the building.

"The stench in this place is getting more and more unbearable." Van Lobre protested, passing his perfumed handkerchief through his moustache. "Lady Valera, you shouldn't be so close to the sick. Even if you continuously wash your hands and burn your protective tunics, it's still possible for you to get sick."

"I've had this disease before." she answered without even looking up from the little girl she was taking care of. "So I'm in no danger. Rather Mr. Mayor, you promised me to allocate new resources to the sanatorium."

"Unfortunately my girl things have changed. Those Dundee rednecks reportedly defeated the Governor's punitive expedition. I can't risk leaving my boys without medicine and healers."

"But the epidemic is getting worse day by day. If we don't do something, our efforts won't be enough to curb the contagion. Also, since both the militia and the legion no longer patrol the city, we are constantly being robbed of food and medicines."

"There is no other choice. With those beggars roaming freely throughout the province, we can't allow the soldiers to start getting sick too."

"At least get us some supplies from the city's granaries and wells. The people have been consuming probably contaminated water and food for days."

"I already told you it's impossible. It is through water and food that the disease spreads. The sick and citizens will only have access to the supplies that have already been assigned to them, the rest will remain at the disposal of the army. Be patient my dear, and I promise you that as soon as the rebel problem is resolved I guarantee you we will do something about it."

Sylvie had already had to deal with bad administrators and bad governance, but she would never have imagined that there were people so selfish and insensitive as to let their subjects die in such an unscrupulous and insensitive way.

But what could she do anyway? Her position certainly didn't allow her to defy orders, especially in a region like Eirinn where the nobles were all on excellent terms with the Circle.

"I'll try to get some of our resources into the sanatorium. If you promise to keep him away from the seriously ill, I will also ask our healer to come and lend a hand."

"Thank you Centurion. It would be of great help."

"Centurion Mannius! Your job is to protect the city!"

"Protecting the city also means bringing help to its inhabitants in case of need. I've talked to my men and they're all in agreement."

It was almost unbelievable that a Centurion was more concerned about the fate of the inhabitants of a region hostile to the Empire than a local nobleman, who thought only of themselves and flaunted reunionist sentiments just to win the sympathy of the people.

"Mr. Mayor!" a guard suddenly yelled "It's an emergency!"

"What now?"

"The rebels, Your Grace! They're coming!"

"What!? Where are they?"

"They're marching from the east along the Via Dioscura."

"Why did they choose such an old and neglected path?" Mannio wondered. "If they wanted to move quickly, it made more sense to proceed along the Via Magna. Perhaps they were trying to go unnoticed?"

"Who cares? That road goes right through my lands! I certainly won't let those animals ravage my precious fields! Ring the muster! I want all militia soldiers ready to go as soon as possible! And you too, Mannio, call your men and order them to get ready!"

"Then who should we leave to guard the city? Basterwick will be left defenseless."

"The hell with Basterwick! Do as I say!"

Isabela arrived to report to her protégé when Van Lobre and Mannio had already left.

"I already know everything."

"Legionnaires and militiamen are already mobilizing. Only me and some volunteers remain to defend the city. Lady Valera, for your own safety perhaps it would be best if you retired to the mayor's palace, where we could defend you better."

"Isabela is right, Master Sylvie. You can't stay here."

"I can't leave these people Vaelia. They need us now more than ever. Besides, something tells me we have nothing to fear."



The region of Basterwick was very different from the rest of West Eirinn, and its fertile valleys were planted with grain, vegetables and orchards.

The city itself was surrounded by luxuriant fields, which as spring progressed were already filling up with sprouts destined to become excellent wheat.

And more than half of all the fields surrounding Basterwick belonged to Van Lobre, who had no intention of allowing the rebels to pass through and destroy his crops.

For this reason he had chosen as a battlefield a vast wasteland outside his possessions, a couple of miles away from the city walls along the Via Dioscura.

Mannio had tried to object, arguing that such a vast and bare land, surrounded by woods, could have left them exposed to circumvention, but the mayor had not wanted to listen any reason, asserting his authority and forcing the Centurion to adapt.

Hours passed, as the enemy hesitated to arrive.

"Looks like a storm is coming." observed Mannio, raising his eyes to the leaden sky.

When the first drops of rain began to fall the rebels finally showed up, but to call them an army would have been misplaced.

"They are very few. How many are there, three hundred at the most?"

"So much the better. Let's sort this out quickly and go home. If we hurry, I'll still have time for my tea."

Not at all frightened by the overwhelming numbers of their enemies, the rebels set out on the battlefield masterfully guided in their movements by Daemon, who stood out like a diamond in the mud riding his white horse.

"We'll mow them down like the weeds they are! Militiamen, it's time to earn your pay! Come forward and sweep them away!"

Half the militiamen advanced in closed formation towards the enemy, first being pelted by a shower of arrows that killed some and then charged by the monsters, who used their strength and size to cause a devastating blow, barely contained by the shield wall.

Meanwhile, a few drops of rain had turned into a very violent storm in the blink of an eye, and it didn't take long for the militiamen to begin to literally lose ground under their feet.

"What the hell is going on?" someone protested. "It's like fighting on quicksand!"

Faced with the spectacle of enemy soldiers sinking in the mud, weighed down by their bulky armor, Dameon smiled mockingly.

"These fields were used as rice paddies until a couple of years ago. Even if they are now uncultivated and abandoned, it is not surprising that a little rain is enough for them to turn into swamps."

From the other end of the battlefield Mannio noticed his gaze, and remembering having heard how that boy had invented some device capable of predicting the arrival of storms, he shockingly understood.

That's why he came through here. He knew this idiot would do anything to protect his fields, and he got us right where he wanted!

And the worst was yet to come. Because if a land reduced into a marsh could become the worst enemy of an army used to fighting in closed formation, it wasn't definitely a problem for a slave who had spent his whole life working and toiling sinking in mud.

After having initially suffered the counterattack of the militiamen, the rebels began to gain ground again, shattering the shield line of the militiamen with a powerful push and engaging them in one-on-one clashes in which the monsters were quickly gaining the upper hand, being more agile despite their often larger size.

"We must relocate ourselves on a better position!" Mannio tried to say. "If we stay here we risk being overwhelmed!"

"It's out of the question! All we need to do is push harder!" and Van Lobre ordered his reserves into battle, threatening to have his deputy's tongue cut out when he attempted to reason with the commander about the absurdity of what he was doing.

As expected, the move did not have the desired effect. On the contrary, the militia soldiers were so hampered in their movements that they were an easy target for the rebel archers, who killed dozens of them before they could even come to battle.

"Your men are getting slaughtered! You must order them to fall back!"

"Give me a hand instead of talking, you incompetent! Or are your legionnaires just for marching in parades and guarding sanatoriums?"

Mannius had no intention of sending his soldiers to die in that swamp. He therefore decided to attempt an outflanking, ordering half of his six hundred legionaries to break away from the line and proceed across the causeway which passed through the fields to the road, advance as far as necessary, and then attack the enemy on a flank, leaving the remaining ones behind as a reserve.

A very wise and potentially effective move. Too bad that Daemon expected it, and even before the battle he had ordered Jack to take a couple of hundred soldiers with him and go and take up positions at the bottom of a ditch that bordered the Via Dioscura, taking advantage of the moment in which all the attention of the enemy would have been concentrated on him.

Silently, flattened in the mud and covered in cloaks of leaves, they waited until the legionaries had passed.

"Now! Attack!" and with Jack in the lead they charged at the enemy from behind.

At the sight of his legionaries overwhelmed and forced into a desperate defense Mannio could not believe it, immediately giving up the idea of sending his remaining men to lend a hand so as not to leave himself and that incompetent Van Lobre without any protection.

Damn, how can this kid being always two steps ahead of us? It's like he reads our minds!

But the dismay he felt was nothing compared to what was about to happen.

"Commander! The city!"

Every soldier, even those engaged in battle, turned his eyes toward the walls behind their back, and what they saw was enough to make everyone's blood run cold.

"Gaia allmighty!"



It was amazing how Daemon could think of things days in advance and always be right.

By now everyone had understood that he was born to lead. And the job of general in particular seemed perfect for him, as if he had been destined for nothing but this since birth.

Shortly after leaving the camp, he had ordered Scalia, Drufo and a dozen others to break away from the rest of the army and proceed by the secondary paths to under the walls of Basterwick.

Once they arrived on the spot, they hid in an old abandoned and half-destroyed barn, from which, as expected, they could clearly see everything that was happening both towards the city and on the battlefield.

"So?" Scalia asked when Drufo returned from his scouting tour

"It's like Daemon said. The walls and towers are deserted. It is probable that the entire army between militiamen and legionnaires is engaged in fighting.

"And the doors to the east?"

"They are open, as expected. And there are only a handful of armed civilians from the city guard watching them."

"Then let's hurry up. You are ready?"

"What do you say?" answered Passe for everyone

"Remember what Daemon said, we must avoid killing at all costs. The fewer casualties there are, the better for us."

"What if they try to kill us?"

"They're just frightened and confused civilians." said Drufo. "Scratch them or scare them a little, and you'll see that they'll give up right away. Why else do you think we would take an old one-armed and one-eyed kobold like you onto a battlefield?"

"The half-goat has spoken. Are you sure you still know how to face an enemy face-to-face?"

"Stop it, you two. Come on, let's go."

When the guardians saw them charging out of nowhere they tried in vain to close the gate, but Drufo put them all out of action with an arrow each opening the way.

As expected, the city was deserted, and the few armed citizens who were protecting it surrendered even before the attackers arrived in the central square.

"Where are all the soldiers?" Scalia asked one of them, trying to sound as menacing as possible

"They're all out fighting. It's just us."

"It's truly amazing." Passe said "How can you leave all these people without any protection?"

"At least we got what we wanted. The city is ours, and no one has lost their lives."

"Stop right there!"