Olimpia

Hurrying to cover the last of the distance back to camp an hour before noon, I cursed myself for leaving without grabbing any food as I felt the hollowness in my gut. Water could only do so much to take the edge off hunger. At least my struggles were nearly over, though, as all I had to do was push past this last wall of bushes, and then I would be able to see the gathered legionaries.

I made no attempt to conceal myself on approach, and even if I did, it wouldn't matter with Franklin lumbering along behind me, letting out the occasional wild cackle. With the crackling of leaves and branches snapping sounding under our — but mostly Franklin's — feet, it should have long alerted the legionaries to our approach.

Forcing aside the branches of some bush, I saw the handful of legionaries gathered around the merrily burning campfire. Placed on a spit was an iron pot that I had no idea where they got it from, but it gave off a mouthwatering scent of a stew, so I didn't care.

As I pushed through the brush, the legionaries had all turned to look at me. A moment after I appeared, their hands lifted from their nearby weapons, and they returned to whatever tasks they were doing before.

Some might take offense to being greeted with the implicit threat of a hand on a weapon, but I approved of the training ingrained habit of never being out of reach of a weapon and reaching for it when something approached. Especially when in hostile territory.

These men had been through a lot in the past weeks, and instead of being worn down and broken by the experience, they were refined. Any fat on their bodies had been burned off, exposing lean muscle underneath. And their willpower was sharpened against the world as they learned to implicitly rely on each other.

"Ahh, there you guys are!" Called out Leeroy, waving us over, "The stew should be just about done. Grab a seat, an' get yourself a bowl."

The invitation and smell made my stomach rumble loud enough that the men could hear it from where they sat twenty-something feet away, making them chuckle. "I'll gladly take you up on that," I said, smiling back at them. As they watched me cover the distance, I saw confusion appear on their faces.

"Ha!" Shouted a squat, blocky man, "I told you he wouldn't be able to make it up the hill without falling. Probably hit his head on a rock to get that shiner. Surprised Franklin isn't carrying him back."

“Hehehe!" Cackled Franklin behind me. Turning to look at him, I saw him keeling over, trying to look up, only to see me. The sight of my face sent him into even greater hysterics as he fell to the ground. Damn liar, I knew it wasn't going away.

"Nah," A man who I remembered was named Jankens said, "He didn't hit a rock. He came down in a mud puddle. How else would he get all that black gunk smeared over the side of his face?"

"Are you sure?" Asked the first man, taking on a contemplative tone as he studied me. My hands were twitching at my sides as I struggled to keep them from raising and brushing at my face. I already knew it wouldn't help.

"Yeah," Leeroy added, "You're confusing the gunk on the side of his face as a black eye, Boik. It's just that it's spread over his eyelid, too."

"Ahh, yep, yep." Acknowledged Boik, nodding his head in agreement. "I see that now that he's closer. What is it? That doesn't look like mud."

As I approached the man standing guard at the cave entrance, a second man approached him, passing the first man one of the steaming bowls he held. To their obvious enjoyment, they blew on it before taking a slurp. Nodding in response to them raising their bowls as a greeting, I moved past them, letting them return to the important work of watching the surrounding forest.

I ignored the fact that they didn't respond to my greeting. I knew they weren't trying to slight me or anything. It was just their eyes were locked on the side of my face, and they didn't notice anything else.

At least they have the discipline to remain at their posts, I thought, trying to find the bright side of the situation. They apparently weren't taking any chances with their safety, even with Leeroy and the Redtail Kin around, who were no doubt telling them everything was clear. It was another thing I could appreciate.

Posting a guard when you shouldn't need one might sound inconsequential or even counterproductive, but that was far from the case. Discipline and order were among the cornerstones of a legion, even if one's legion had dwindled to no more than seven men. Optio Lun ordering a guard to be posted reminded the men what they were, and it proved that he was thinking and taking their safety seriously. I guess that it wasn't just Leeroy that let them make it here.

Leeroy could have been the guide, but someone had to unify these men. To hold them together and remind them they still had a duty beyond surviving, even when things looked the bleakest. And that type of personality and ability weren't common.

Spotting an empty log, I sat and accepted the offered bowl. Bringing the food beneath my nose, I breathed in the rich, heady scent of the meat and spices with a sigh. Where they got the ingredients, I didn't care, as rocks were starting to look good at this point. Taking a slurp, I enjoyed the food while raising my bowl as a salute to the cook as I said, "Damn, this is great. Can't say I've had much better food out on campaign."

"I know, right!" Leeroy said with a hearty laugh, slapping the man next to him on the back. "Jankens here is a miracle worker. You have to taste his fried chicken. It's some of the best food you will ever eat, and even our enemies will come asking for it. This one time, we were out on a short patrol with our century searching for a beastkin pack in the area of some small village." Looking to his side sheepishly, he added, "Ah, sorry, Hurring. No offense."

"None taken." Hurring rumbled, waving him off as eyes shifted to study me, "The Lost can regain their minds, but putting them down is often necessary. We have long accepted what we and they are."

"Anyway, once we arrived, we couldn't find the fuckers after most of a day of searching, so we set up camp. And, surprise, surprise, there was an error between what the supply tribune's paperwork said we would get and what was sent with us. Except this time, it worked in our favor." As Leeroy spoke, some of the others were listening to him with as much attention as I was, and they gasped at the last sentence in shock. Every legionary eventually finds themselves on the wrong end of a supply mixup, but few ever find themselves on the good side.

"Instead of a wagon of travel rations, we received a wagon that must have been destined to be laid out on the table of some high-ranking tribune. We couldn't let such perishable goods go to waste, so we started cooking, even sending a squad to the nearby village to buy some extra supplies and make it a real feast. The whole camp was filled with the scent of the food, and apparently, the beastkin liked what they smelled, too, because they burst from the nearby forest tree line. We quickly gathered for battle, but the fight was over before it started, as only a few of the beasts even swiped their claws at us, with the rest running right past. The bastards stormed into our camp, stole the fried chicken and sausages while knocking most of the other food into the dirt, and then bolted back into the forest. We were easily able to track them back to their den after that, but it cost us our once-in-lifetime fortune, thanks to Janken's cooking." Leeroy had a sad look on his face and even feigned that he was crying and had to wipe away a tear.

I smiled at the story, enjoying my stew as the others started heckling Jankens for cooking for their enemies. I continued draining the bowl and even asked for another as I found myself surprisingly hungry. Well, maybe not that surprising, but the good company around me and stories and laughter of better times seemed to help the food taste better.

"Okay," Leeroy called, gathering everyone's attention as he clapped his hands together, "time to talk about the smoke in the room. Green, what in the void is on your face?"

"Ahh," I sighed, and I felt my face flush slightly as everyone who was content to shoot glances at me from the corner of their eyes a moment ago suddenly turned to study me openly. “Yeah… I don't know. A test… So I'm told."

"What did you do to piss her off?" Asked Hurring in the confused silence that followed.

"He asked what happened to the tip of one of her tails, like a fecken idiot." Franklin slurped his head inside the pot up to his ears as he finished off what was left of the stew, causing a slight echo to his voice. "Kanieta slapped him and placed a spell on his cheek in the shape of a foxtail to test the changes to his body. She wants to know if he still retains the innate Olimpian resistance to mana. He does not."

"Not sure you should be calling me an idiot when you're practically wearing a pot for a hat," I grumbled.

Franklin raised his head out of the pot in his lap, stew dripping down his chin and smeared on his cheeks. Looking me dead in the eyes, he said in a dry tone, "Anyone who doesn't know that mentioning a woman's bad haircut is a bad idea is, at the very least, a fecking idiot. Especially if she has had it for weeks, and pointing it out now is telling her ya either aren't paying attention to her or are intentionally being an arshole." Finishing with what he had to say, he licked his lips, then stuck his head back into the pot and started eating again.

I looked at Franklin and had nothing to say in my defense. He was right. I really didn't know why that question had popped out of my mouth or what I was expecting to come of it.

Deciding to change the subject, I turned to Hurring and said, "She also told us to tell you that you are to come with us when we leave."

Optio Lun, hearing that we were finally getting down to business, asked, "So, Kanieta isn't returning?"

"No," I said, shaking my head, "She's going to find her cousin, then they're going to scout out the Crescent Moon camp."

"Your Earth Pulse actually worked?" He sounded surprised, but I couldn't blame him. Franklin told me earlier that I was passed out for over two days. "We figured you fumbled the casting and were suffering from a backlash."

"Nah," I said, wincing a little at the memory of the pain. "I didn't mess up the casting. It didn't turn out like I would have liked, but… if anything, the results were better than I could have hoped. And the Crescent Moon camp wasn't the only thing I found." Letting the silence hang in the air, they all leaned forward slightly as they could tell I was about to tell them something important. "I found your legion." I finally said.

"What!"

"How!?"

"Where?"

Multiple voices asked all at once, only for Lun's voice to cut over them all as he asked, "You sent an Earth Pulse all the way to the Valleys?"

Raising my hand in the air, I signaled them to be quiet, having to wait a few seconds for everyone to calm down. Looking at Lun, I said, "Yes, but that wasn't where I felt them. The legion had already crossed the Twins and was making their way along the belt of fortresses a few valleys north of here. Even if they marched at an easy pace, they shouldn't be more than a couple day's travel at most from us."

"What? Really?" Lun said, excitement filling his voice as he popped to his feet. I nodded in response, and he looked to where most of his men were gathered. "You should have told me sooner! Pack it up, boys! We must get moving before we waste any more of the day."

"Hah!" I barked, then nodded to Leeroy, saying, "A few minutes or an hour won't matter with the world's best guide over there. All we have to do is get close enough, and he will talk over." My words made Leeroy blush and rub the back of his head as he looked around uneasily, his foot kicking at the ground as if no one had ever complimented him before.

I wasn't exaggerating or trying to be kind. Leeroy's ability was powerful, and I fully expected this to be an easy walk in the park.