“That seems like a lot,” I said.
The tall officer nodded. The shorter man just listened.
“Yes, it is harsh,” the officer said. “But Augusto protects us. Helps our families. Gives us food and…land…to give for our time here.”
“You will farm after all this?”
“Farm?” the man asked, unfamiliar. “I do not know this word.”
“You will work on the land?” Anna asked.
“Ah, yes. My wife and children, they work on the land. We have no land to…name to us. But after esta campaña, I will go home and the boss of the land will give land for me.”
“That is good,” Anna said.
“Yes, very good.” The man smiled. “I must only survive one campaign more. It is a hard life. My wife tells me: as long as there are men, there are wars.”
“Will there ever be peace in the Empire?” Anna asked.
“La paz?” The man shook his head. “No. We have another…dicho…in our land: Sólo los muertos han visto el final de la guerra.”
“What does that mean?” Anna asked.
The officer flashed a rueful smile. “Only the dead have seen the end of war.”
“That’s a little dark,” Anna said.
“A little dark, yes. Also, much true.” The man smiled again. “You must forgive me. I am something of…a philosopher. I think. Too much, I think. When you march, you only think. And yes…I know something of war. More than most men know.”
It grew quiet for a moment before I asked the campaigner another question.
“Do you ever get to see your family?”
The man shook his head. “In spring and summer, my life belongs to the Emperor. In fall and winter, my life belongs to my family. Is… same for all men in the legion.”
“You campaign only in spring and summer?”
“Yes. Every year is the same.”
I looked at the Praetorians guarding us, staring into the distance, never breaking their stance.
“What about for them?” I asked.
The man laughed. “Los pretorianos? They are not men. They are machines. They do not have families, they do not have women. But they are rich. Yes, very.”
“What good is being rich if you cannot enjoy it?” Anna asked, finishing her corn.
The tall officer smiled. “You have much wisdom. But los pretorianos…their promise is twenty years. They train from a young time for…honor. After twenty years, they earn many riches and live like kings. There are few who live for twenty years. Maybe some. Many…many have girlfriends. Secret families. They do not have permission for this.”
“What happens if they get caught?” I asked.
The officer laughed. “You ask too much, little americano!”
He took a swig from his canteen. The way he coughed afterward suggested it didn’t hold water. He held the canteen out to me, but I shook my head.
“You must have seen many things in all your years on campaign,” Anna said.
The man’s eyes lightened in remembrance. “Yes. Many things. Most bad.” He looked at the both of us. Ashton looked on silently. “I am Carlos. This man…” He nudged the shorter soldier, whose eyes were closed. He woke with a start. “He is Horacio.”
We introduced ourselves. Once we had, the man began to tell us his story in his broken English: of far-off jungles southeast of the Empire’s borders, how Augustus wanted to conquer the wild tribes there, but could never break through the trees. He wanted the forests for the medicines he could find inside. He wanted to go south, to the Canal, wherever that was.
“What is south of the Canal?” I asked.
“No sé,” the man said. “Nobody knows, but maybe Augusto does. Yes. I think, maybe, he does. Other countries, I would guess. El imperio…we are the biggest and the strongest. Augusto has even mastered the art of building ships, for the water. He could not ride them here. Too many storms.”
The man talked about the wars he’d fought in — of foreign cities, high mountains, dark forests, and the beautiful women he had met. The food he had eaten. The riches he had won. The deep blue of the Pacific, and the bright blue of the Atlantic. Crystalline white beaches, stained with men’s blood. He talked about a tribe he called los salvajes, who lived in the Yucatan, and how they fought with bows and arrows, and even with such primitive weapons, it had taken two campaigns for Augustus to conquer them.
“The Empire is big,” Carlos said. “Bigger than even I know. I have seen much of it, but not all.”
I would have told him of our foray into the Empire, but Maxillo held up a hand, interrupting our conversation.
“It is time for you to sleep.”
We bid our farewells to Carlos and his silent friend, Horacio, who had fallen asleep by the light of the fire.
“It was good to meet you, americanos,” Carlos said.
We followed Maxillo past several tents. The dirt roads were mostly empty. Most of the legionaries would be exhausted by this time of night, leaving only the watchmen. We passed Augustus’s tent, which was dark. Even the Emperor was asleep.
Maxillo led us away from the tents, toward the far wall.
“I am taking you to the latrines, where you can relieve yourselves,” Maxillo said. “After that, I will take you to your tent.”
We did just that before we regrouped to head back to the center of the Imperial encampment. We passed a couple dozen or so large tents before we came to one that had two purple-caped Praetorians guarding its entrance. They parted upon seeing us approach.
“I’ll wake you at dawn,” Maxillo said.
The chief Praetorian left us behind. There was nothing left but to enter the tent. Once inside, I saw in the dimness that three cots had been made up. It was chilly within, and already the heat I had absorbed from the fire had escaped into the surrounding air. Thick wool blankets had been provided for each of us.
We settled in for the night. I shut my eyes. As the minutes passed, the noise from the camp outside dimmed.
I was flying.
It was night, and below I could see a Recon speeding across a fungal plain. Behind, a swarm of crawlers surged, clipping at the Recon’s tail. Light flashed from the turret. Some of the crawlers were felled, but it wasn’t enough.
I swooped down from the sky. I realized then that I wasn’t the one flying, but Askal. I was seeing the world through his eyes.
The mass of crawlers approached the Recon, oblivious to the death from the sky. With a roar, Askal outstretched his legs. I could feel him curl his long claws in preparation to skewer his first victim. With a crash, Askal swept two crawlers from their scuttling legs. They shrieked as they were tossed upward, sailing through the air and landing with thuds on the fungus below. The fungus seemed to absorb their impact, and the crawlers rebounded into the air, landing once more on spindly legs. Both gave themselves shakes before turning around and chasing after the Recon once again.
Askal roared, swooping around again to attack. This time, he swept several more crawlers away from the Recon, buying Makara and the rest a little more time. The crawlers’ glowing white eyes turned from the Recon, focusing on Askal above. On me. They would be ready next time.
As Askal looked down at the Recon, I could see where they were headed. There was a walled settlement ahead. Could it be…?
Oasis.
The Great Blight, in the short time I had been absent, had extended as far as Oasis. It was near unthinkable. At this rate, it would be at the edge of Los Angeles within weeks.