Iarius ex Maritoris was not a man possessed of great military bearing. Indeed, few if any would describe him as possessing any military bearing at all. He was a man newly come to adulthood, hardly into his second decade, with dark hair that curled into twisting and tangling rings whenever he forgot to cut it—which was frequently. His muscles had been built up by a youth spent in hard manual labor, but were now lessened by three years spent on more scholarly pursuits. In recent times, Iarius had noticed certain activities which had once come easily to him now left him weary and winded, though of his numerous concerns over this circumstance, he left all of them unvoiced.

  He sat now atop a horse whose name he did not know, many miles away from the city and home in which he was raised. These Northern Lands were cold and strange compared to Maritoris, and savage compared to the whole of Remura. The barbarian peoples who inhabited these territories were a crude and lawless race, and whenever Iarius ventured forth from the safety of Paeliig's walls, he was keenly aware of the danger into which he was placing himself.

  It was a thrilling thing to consider.

  At the moment he accompanied a group of soldiers as they guided their steeds down a dirt road. Every few feet, wooden posts were stuck into the sides of the road, with markings upon them to indicate elevation. The empire's engineers had begun laying the groundwork to turn this patch of dirt into a proper road, flat and constructed of brick, and it was in regards to this endeavor that the soldiers were out here on this day.

  "Pay close attention, Quills," said Pilus Marcus Opaedes. He was a man possessed of impressively broad musculature, who wore old and battered armor that nonetheless bore the crimson bands of a Centurian commander, and the blue band which signified it as an Equine Centuria. "If a fight breaks out, I would have you record in great detail my prowess."

  This brought a low snickering among the men under Opaedes' command. The Pilus had made no secret of his scorn for Iarius, nor of his annoyance at having been the officer to which the imperial scholar was assigned. At every opportunity, he mocked the young man, and his men had proven eager to follow their commander's example.

  "I shall do my best," said Iarius, choosing in that moment to treat Opaedes' statement as genuine. It was a tactic he employed often, as it was easier than allowing the mockery to vex him. Unfortunately, it had the effect of summoning a new wave of snickers from the soldiers.

  The Remuran Empire's Eighth Legion had been garrisoned at Paeliig for about a year now, following a series of battles with the neighboring kingdoms that led to a treaty and the surrender of the town to Remura. Since then, the Empire had worked to fortify and modernize the barbarian town, in the hopes of turning it into Remura's foothold in the Northern Lands. The new road project had been a part of that, but that was before engineers started being attacked.

  The most recent such attack had occurred a little over a mile northeast of Paeliig. Two engineers and one of their guards had been killed before the bandits were driven off. Now Pilus Opaedes led thirty-two men, a little less than half his Centuria, to investigate the scene of the battle and see if they couldn't track the bandits down.

  As Paeliig's resident historian, Iarius had been obligated to ride with them.

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  Up ahead, past the dirt and the trees, Iarius beheld a shape moving quick toward their party. As it drew closer, he realized it was a man on horseback, and as it drew closer still, he recognized the man as one of the soldiers the Pilus had sent to scout ahead.

  "Sir!" the soldier said, rearing his horse up to a stop before the Pilus and clapping his fist to his chest in salute. "I have discovered tracks near the site of the attack. I believe the bandits are holed up in the mountains, somewhere near Caelus Pass."

  Opaedes frowned. "There have been no reports of bandit attacks in Caelus Pass. Are you sure of this?"

  "I suppose it is possible they took a circuitous route to throw us off," the scout admitted. "But the terrain becomes hilly and craggy not far from the scene of battle. I doubt bandits would bother with the extra effort."

  "Unless they camp within the hills themselves," said Opaedes. "We shall scour those hills forthwith."

  "Of course, sir," said the scout, once more giving his salute. His eyes then widened in shock, and it was not hard for Iarius to see why: an arrow had appeared in his throat.

  The haft was long, and the feathers crimson. Blood spurted from the scout's neck and mouth, and he fell sideways off his horse.

  "They are here!" the Pilus shouted, drawing his sword and raising it high. "To arms, my brothers!"

  All around, Iarius watched as soldiers raised their spears and shields and began maneuvering their horses into a defensive formation. The scholar himself crouched low on his steed, suddenly keenly aware that he had no protection against the bandits.

  An arrow shot out from the trees nearby, clanging uselessly off a soldier's shield. Another soon came from the opposite side of the road, and this one struck the side of a soldier's horse. The animal cried out and tried to run, and though the soldier managed to get the beast under control, the disruption was enough to open up a weakness in their formation.

  Two more arrows shot out from the trees, once glancing off the Pilus' armor and another burying itself in the arm of a soldier.

  "How many are there!?" the Pilus demanded.

  It was difficult to tell. The arrows rained down upon them from all directions. But, Iarius noticed, the attacks weren't constant. There was a gap between each shot, enough time for a man to reposition himself.

  Two, Iarius realized with a start. There were only two bandits attacking them.

  "Pilus!" he called, but before he could say any more, an arrow with flames wreathed around its head sailed through the air and struck a soldier's check.

  He howled in pain and fell from his horse, fire dancing across his face. His horse, terrified, darted off, vanishing into the forest as another flaming arrow shot out from the woods on the opposite side and spurred on another horse with a well-placed strike to the flank.

  "Stars damn them!" Pilus Opaedes cursed. "Fall back, my brothers! To Paeliig!"

  The men turned their horses around and galloped back down the road, away from the bandits, and back to the safety of their garrison.

  Iarius rode with them, and he risked a glance back toward the site of their humiliation. He could have sworn he caught a glimpse of a man in the trees there, smiling in triumph and mockery as he watched the Remuran cavalry make their retreat.