Chapter 7 – Dangers Abound

Max watched Captain Samson walk away without saying anything. Once the grizzled, one eyed veteran was out of sight, he turned to the group beside him.

This would be the first real look he would give the batch individually instead of a quick scan and then trying to keep his head down to not attract more attention then he already had. The boys all looked to be around his age give or take a year.

More importantly, they looked to come from every part of the empire.

He frowned.

I’m one of the odd ones out. They all look like they broke into groups and friend circles already.

The kids huddled into their own little parties like the adventurers in the story books. Each group gave the others dirty looks including Max and the stragglers. It was clear they were not looking to add anyone to their posse.

Unless I am desperate enough to do something stupid…

Max shook his head. He would not make a fool out of himself just to get into a group.

A few boys laughed.

They were discussing their Patron Inheritances while they milled about.

“…fire inheritance!”

“…speed boost!”

“…jump over mountains…”

“…affinity to swords and…”

Max shook his head. It seemed ridiculously unwise to tell people what strengths and weaknesses you had. He had lived in the slums as an orphan long enough to understand that most people would take advantage of you in a heartbeat. It was only the rare few that had not been made into monsters where he came from.

Illias and Old Goat were in the scarce numbers.

I wonder if the old man had something to do with what happened to me. I have friends in places? Who and why? I’ve never interacted with any old people or made friends that would have this type of pull or knowledge. Mostly kids my age or younger… Hmm, who is that?

Max noticed a large man approach them from further into the forest line. The man was bigger than even Captain Samson. He paused next to the rest of the legionaries surrounding their batch of recruits.

The man sucked in a deep breath. “Attention!”

A few of the closer kids shouted and started. A few jumped and spun on their heels.

The legionaries laughed.

The massive man had an equally massive smile on his face. “Gather up!”

Max moved before the legionaries could start pushing him like they did the rest.

“I am Captain Hector III Lianer. You can call me Captain Hector, or Captain Lianer, not that you will see much of me for some time. For now, though? I am your commanding officer until the Optio arrives. Once he is here, you all will be in his care. So I’ll say this once and only once…”

He paused to look through their numbers and make sure everyone was listening.

“…any who disrespect the Optio or any ranking commander will find stiff punishments awaiting them. We do not break rank nor do we allow anyone to do so either. These structures exist for a reason and anyone threatening those reasons will be removed… expeditiously,” Hector stepped forward and found the tallest and strongest of the new recruits, a kid with a wide chin and dirty blonde hair. “Is that understood?”

Max and everyone nodded.

“Good. Welcome to Legion CXCIII, Cursed Legion of the Northern Waster Reaches, the Golden Claw. Do survive long enough to introduce yourselves to me, for now though, you will be given some time to rest in the barracks. Make sure to take a nap. When the Optio arrives, you whelps won’t have time for any rest for a long while.”

Hector waved his hands and the legionaries herded the recruits toward the barracks. It was getting darker by the second.

Max stayed near the back and away from the larger posses.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

The barracks had beds lining the walls on both sides with the center clear for them to walk around and interact with each other, ample space too. A second doorway stood opposite of the one they entered from all the way to the other side of the long structure.

They were guided by the legionaries to their sleeping assignments with the earliest to enter filling the left side and the later ones filling the right side.

Each bed had a stack of well folded and wrapped sets of clothing on the mattress, the legion’s banner above their heads, a lantern on either side of the frame placed high enough that it would be difficult to grab, and a pair of boots in front.

Max took his bed on the right side near the end with only two others farther than him. They had hesitated long enough that the legionaries kept them to the side until everyone took their spots.

It included a chubby cheeked kid with a wide smile that never left his face, yet it did not reach his eyes.

Max recognized it as a coping mechanism.

He had seen the same thing in a few of the smaller kids that hadn’t learned how to handle the world as an orphan just yet, needing time to break into society and understand where to go, who to trust, who not to be around, and where to hide when trouble found them.

Max shook his head and focused on what was more important.

He picked up a set of the clothing they were given; maroon shirt, gray pants, and white underwear. Then he went and checked out the boots. That left him with raised eyebrows as he picked one of the pair up and examined it. They were the same maroon color, heavy, made to survive a thrashing, and thick enough to stop a dagger too. Something an orphan would have never been able to afford.