B4 Chapter 12: Traveling Tyrants
“No.” Tiberius shut the woman’s request without hesitation. He didn’t need to hear any more. Murmurs had already begun to reach his ears about some of the other changes he was making to Rome and its governance. The idea of adding a woman to the Legionnaires? It was utter lunacy. Lunacy that would have even his most staunch supporters demanding when he’d lost his mind.
The woman’s eyes didn’t change. She seemed altogether unsurprised by the refusal. But of course, it wasn’t so simple.
“Word is you added that old coot to the ranks,” the woman stated. “Thought that meant things have changed.”
“...Perhaps some additional explanations are in order,” Guildmaster Hyde stepped up next to the scarred woman. “This is Rowenna Broadstone, A level forty-five adventurer and former member of the Traveling Tyrants adventuring party. She is also the bearer of the [Bane of Orcs (V)] title.”
Tiberius raised an eyebrow at that. The first two points meant little to him—despite the woman’s undoubtedly impressive level, he had yet to encounter an adventurer who lived up to the lofty expectations their level implied. Nor did he have any clue who the Traveling Tyrants were. But the title certainly caught his attention. It was only a couple ranks lower than the First Legion’s own [Bane of Orcs] title, according to the most recent reports.
“And how does an individual manage to slay so many orcs?” Tiberius found himself asking. That might have been at least thousands, maybe even tens of thousands if he was figuring it right.
“Time and determination.” The woman answered flatly. Her voice was as gruff as any man he’d ever known. It rather reminded Tiberius of one of his men who’d been notorious for always having a smoking pipe close at hand. “Haven’t seen anything outside of the Cracked Ridges for the past twenty years.”
He called to mind a mental map of the empire. The Cracked Ridges sat well to the north of Corwyn Pass, along the border between their territory and the lands of the orcs.
“What Madame Rowena means is—”
“Will you stuff it with that ‘madame’ horseshit?” The woman sighed. “If I wanted to be treated like some noble lady, I’d be squeezing my big ass into one of those torture devices they call dresses. And frankly, everyone should be glad not to see that.”
The Guildmaster grimaced as Tiberius chuckled internally. He was beginning to like this woman.
“—What Rowena means,” Guildmaster Hyde began once again, “Is that she has been the sole force standing between the orcish advances and many miles of human settlements for approximately two decades now. Most portions of the border were manned by soldiers fielded from the nobles or groups of adventuring parties. But hers… while she initially had support, any who fought alongside her were drawn away to other conflicts. In recent years, the very people she sought to protect were forced to band together and fight if Rowena so much as wished to visit a class stone.”
Tiberius leaned back in his chair. He’d obviously been briefed on the former state of affairs regarding the border. Yet this woman’s contributions had not made it into any report that he was aware of.
Rowena crossed her arms, seeming to read the look on his face. “I don’t want people to think I’m some kinda hero. My hometown’s over there, see. Couldn’t let it get swarmed. Then the raids just kept coming and coming, and, well, here we are.”
“Her desire for anonymity has been honored as well as we could manage, in part because of fears that she would be… reassigned… by Novara’s late ruler.” The Guildmaster’s face twisted in distaste. “But despite that, Rowena’s contributions to the safety of her people are well known to those who matter. She continues to be a beacon of hope and an inspiration to many.”
Which was how she managed to strongarm the Guildmaster into this meeting, Tiberius supposed. The way the man deferred to Rowena, as well as both his and Gaius’s clear discomfort at being here, said as much. Doubtless she’d called in all of that favor she’d built up to make this request, and Hyde had been forced to go along with it. The fact that Gaius had gotten swept up in such a thing was concerning, but Tiberius would address that later.
He studied the woman in front of him for a long moment. Despite all of that explanation, it still didn’t explain what the woman was actually doing here.
“Why do you wish to join the Legion?”
Rowena met his gaze levelly. “You lot kept my hometown safe. Whether you meant to or not doesn’t matter. I owe you for that, and I repay my debts.”
Tiberius shook his head. “That is shortsighted. There are many other roles for a high level adventurer to fill outside of the Legionnaires.”
“Indeed. Teaching future generations and telling your tale would be a far better use of your abilities,” Guildmaster Hyde agreed. “Not to mention that your level puts you at the level of a mythril adventurer now. There is always demand for such scarce and powerful individuals.”
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Rowena raised her chin defiantly. “My party moved on a long time ago. Not that I’d want to see them again. I have no interest in joining a bunch of selfish bastards who only care about money. I want to protect people. That’s all. And I won’t be treated like a damn mascot.”
She directed a glare at the Guildmaster with those final words. To the man’s credit, he didn’t cower. Tiberius wondered how many others would have. Still, he was having difficulty seeing how exactly this was his problem.
Tiberius shook his head. “My answer remains the same. I will not tarnish the good name of the Legion, nor make exceptions to its standards at the whims of a single woman. No matter your credentials.”
Rowena’s face darkened as his words. She took a deep breath, seeming to steady herself before speaking in a low, level tone. “You misunderstand, emperor. I’m not asking just because I want to bash more heads in alongside more respectable men. I want to make your men stronger. New Legionnaires forfeit their levels. That’s clear to anyone with eyes or a basic [Appraisal] skill. Their skills can also get picked up by others. Right?”
Tiberius remained silent, neither confirming nor denying the claim. Rowena snorted. “I’ve seen enough [Bakers] and [Tailors] swinging around swords like [Warriors] that I’d guess it’s true. If it is, then I got skills you’ll want. A lot of them. Ones that took decades to earn.”
His expression didn’t change, but internally his mind raced. What kind of skills would a level forty-five who had lived and breathed fighting for two decades have? Perhaps nothing as impressive as Claude’s skills, but certainly skills more well-suited to the common Legionnaire. Defensive abilities? Crowd control? Definitely skills related to persistence and endurance, if her story was to be believed. Areas where they already excelled, but perhaps they could increase those advantages further. If he could make an entire Legion where every individual man was a travelling army, then who could stand in their way?
But that all assumed that he would accept the woman into their ranks—which was simply not going to happen. It was a few giant leaps too far, both for him and the true Romans who had accompanied him to this world. There were plenty of other issues that adding a woman into an army would cause. Ones that could not be overlooked, no matter how tempting the prospect of adding more valuable skills to their pool.
Tiberius looked over Rowena again. As far as women went, she certainly was lacking in the femininity department. Still, she was a woman. No amount of scars, muscles, and gruff attitude could change that.
“I will consider your proposal.” He said. Outright rejections seemed to only embolden the woman, and though he was tempted to dismiss her outright, she was still a powerful individual. Treating her with casual disregard would be unwise. “I thank you for your offer. Should Rome require your services in other ways, I shall ensure that you are informed.”
The woman dipped her head. “Good enough for me.”
The trio left a short while later, with Gaius bringing up the rear. The youngest Legatus paused at the threshold for a moment as though waiting for Tiberius to stop him, but he did not. His thoughts were elsewhere.
He called back to the times in history where women had fought in wars. Such occurrences had always been desperate things, usually futile last stands to defend a home or village. Those stories were much more common in the early days of Rome, before the Republic and the Empire both, when Roman kings ruled and their settlements were far less prepared to defend against barbarian raiders.
Things were different in this world. It was clear that women and men often fought alongside each other here, especially in smaller groups like those that adventurers favored, and the System reduced the gap in physical ability between the two enough for it to be feasible.
Magic took care of the rest.But they were civilized now. They had enough men to fight and protect their people, and would have more as time passed. There was no need to sow chaos in the ranks, to introduce a distraction to try his men’s discipline in the midst of heated battle. Because they would be distracted.
Whether seeking to impress or protect, it didn’t matter. Tiberius’s entire career had been full of fools whose obsession with the opposite sex had been their undoing. The same was even true in the senate, though the matter grew even more complicated. He’d seen senators whose wives ruled them with an iron fist or puppeted them, their scheming on par with that of any politician. But it was always from behind the scenes. Never as one who directly held power.
It was a reality that had steered Tiberius away from marriage. It was forbidden for Legionnaires, of course, but that didn’t stop many men from making informal unions with local women or taking camp wives. Yet the examples set by a leader and those of the rank and file were fundamentally different.
He took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. No, it was impossible. There was no way to reconcile such a change. Even introducing it would bring nothing but uproar. Certainly, the natives of this world wouldn’t bat an eye at the Legion opening its membership to women. But he cared little for how they thought. He cared far more about the opinions of true Romans. And changing those opinions would take time, planning, and perhaps a few more paradigm shifts than he wanted to introduce. Especially if he wanted to keep hold of those things that kept them quintessentially Roman at their core.
Still, he’d done as he’d promised. He’d considered the proposal. And in its wake, he realized that it would benefit the empire to have a method of bringing other such suggestions before him. Fresh ideas and ways to integrate the newly conquered populaces may help them avoid the mistakes of their predecessors. So long as they were managed carefully.
Setting the matter aside for now, he moved to address the next report. His reprieve of reading was well and truly over, and that meant it was time to work. This particular report detailed a proposal for the creation of a Senate. Something that he’d been turning over in his mind for a long while now.
His eyes narrowed as he read the details. This particular proposal gave the nobles more representation than expected. Not enough to truly matter, as the true Romans and the Elves could easily outvote them on any given matter, once the latter’s senate was integrated. But it would convey that Tiberius did care for the thoughts of the former Novarans and allow him to keep a finger on the pulse of their wishes.
Tiberius nodded simply and turned the page, then practically snorted with laughter. The aide who had prepared this report went into detail about how senators may be appointed, and decided to integrate a novel system—representative democracy. Letting the mob dictate their leaders. Apparently, this man didn’t have quite as good a head on his shoulders as initially presumed.
Tiberius promptly tossed that page into the trash.
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