Libro lay upon the ground amidst the tall grass, slithering on his stomach towards a crest in the hill. He pulled himself onto the peak, kicking with his legs till he was nestled in a nearby crevice. The early morning sun shone bright up above. Barely a cloud in the sky save for a thunderhead or two blowing in from the Album Sea. It was late spring now and the storms were coming in heavier and heavier, ready to reach their peak come summertime.

Pulling the spyglass from his satchel, he unfolded the great tube of metal and stared out towards the city.

Byzantia. Even after being gone for so long, she still looked as timeless as ever. Built upon a natural land bridge and split in half by a channel, the city was an ocean of  white stone and brushed gold that spread out before him as far as the eye could see. Red tile roofed houses rose and fell like the tides amidst glittering towers, copper domed churches and archways that spiderwebbed over every bustling district. 

To the east, the lowest stone buildings glowed like sea foam in the morning sun, growing in size and splendor the further west you went. A massive sheet of rock emerged at the highest point, marble temples peaking over the top, dwarfed by a stone statue of the Goddess Nido towering above.

And surrounding the mighty city was an equally mighty wall. Even from so far away the great sheet of rock seemed to loom before Libro. Every block of stone bore the mark of the Articifex who’d hewed it from the mountain’s heart, who’d shaped and smoothed its surface to such perfection that no amount of mortar was necessary to keep it in place. The wall of Byzantia was like the Empire itself. Unbreakable.

Libro gave a happy little sigh. It was good to be home. Even if it was for the worst of reasons. The grass shifted as a form saddled up beside him. A heavy, solid form with a balding pate that seemed to glow in the sunlight.

“See anything out of the ordinary?” Captain Dux asked.

Libro licked his lips and gazed out over the eastern parapet. It was empty save for an occasional Calligati patrol marching through. Beyond that though the city was uncharacteristicly calm. No fires. No smoke. No signs of battle or rioting. Byzantia appeared as it had three years ago. A crown jewel at the center of the world.

“None so far, Captain. A few patrols here or there, but otherwise it’s been eerily quiet.” Libro passed the spyglass over to Dux.

The Captain nodded, one eyebrow cocked skyward as he peered out. “No doubt the Ministry’s been keeping their little coup hush-hush. Don’t want to stir up their neighbors. A city overthrowing its ruler is a city ripe for invasion after all. If the Turcians caught wind of this, they’d practically be shitting themselves with joy." 

A massive understatement, Libro thought. Half the kingdoms that bordered Byzantia were under the imperial yoke. A task that had taken the Empire centuries to accomplish. If word got around of the turmoil happening at the very seat of power, the repercussions would be catastrophic.

“So what’s the plan then?” Libro asked.

Dux glanced over to him and shrugged. “Hard to say. The Ministry’s got the gates closed up tight. Bridges drawn. Guards posted along the toll roads. No ones entering. No ones leaving.” Dux slapped a palm into the dirt. “And the walls are too big to climb over, damn it all. Now I regret leaving the trebuchets behind.”

“You did say we had to pack light if we wanted to make it back in time,” Libro said.

Dux gave a weary groan. “Don’t remind me. Now I regret using that damned weapon Magus gave us back in Orienta. Should have saved it. Could have punched a hole big enough to charge through if needed.”

Libro shuddered at the thought. He didn’t need to be reminded of the black crater they’d left behind a month prior. He still remembered the sudden flash of light, the roaring noise, the burning wind that nearly cut him to ribbons. It had left him deaf and blind for minutes on end, stumbling around, screaming soundlessly. Even when his senses had returned, the sight of the aftermath had sent him puking into the dirt.

Dux handed the spyglass back. “All right. I’ve seen enough. Let’s head back to camp." He shimmied down the hill, Libro following after. They descended down a narrow path, through Judas-trees and spritely maples, their limbs already starting to bud. The Vangen camp was only a short distance once they'd reached solid ground, nestled in the crook of a glen.

Two guardsmen saluted as Libro and Dux entered the camp. The whole place was buzzing with activity as Greenhorns moved in pairs, staking tent poles into the ground, lashing sharp tipped logs to the slowly growing palisade, or pushing carts filled with supplies. 

Past that the camp, things became more uniform. Tents were lined up neatly in segmented rows, the inner body composing of Centums, lower ranking officers, and the Tribunes themselves. Dux’s tent stood in the center, where a second, smaller palisade had been built. 

And it seemed the other Tribunes were waiting for them. Regis sat stretched out on a carpet, smoking from his hand carved pipe. Tabaci, given the sickly sweet smell that wafted out. Magus sat beside him, making shapes out of the smoke clouds with his magick. Culter was leaning against a barrel, picking at his cuticles with his stiletto. Nox and Civis stood closeby, speaking quickly and lively in a language Libro could not understand. They stopped talking once they noticed him, though, and the dark skinned Austerlander flashed an ivory toothed smile.

“How goes the subterfuge, peeper? Any good news?” Civis greeted Libro with a new nickname. He ignored the Legate's obvious jab and turned to speak to everyone else.

“Patrols were light on the battlements as far as I could tell. No signs of foul play, but the east gate is closed up tight. Regardless, I don’t think they were expecting us to return so soon. Far as I can tell, at least."

Regis puffed at his pipe, smoke ring quickly morphing into a rabbit before hopping off into the sky. “You’d think the courier the Empress sent us would have raised an alarm of some sort with the Ministry.”

“Maybe it did,” Civis added. “We can’t ignore the possibility that they know we’re coming. The only thing they don’t know is when.” He rubbed at the bridge of his nose. “Feels like it's the only advantage we have right now.”

“An advantage we can still use in our favor if need be,” Dux said. He stood over a stack of crates with a map of the city held down by a set of daggers stabbed into the wood. Libro could see a few key areas circled with charcoal. “Whether the Ministry knows we’re here or not, I don’t rightly give a shit. We still have our orders.” He jabbed a finger at the map, circling the whole way round. "Our first priority should be securing the palace and ensuring the Empresses safety.”

“That’s a lot of ground to cover,” Regis pointed out. “The Palace sits at the western half of the city if I recall. We’ll have to cross the eastern court and the Bosba. Plenty of chances for the rebels to stick it to us.” Culter chuckled at that, smiling as he continued to pick at his cuticles. Libro found himself grimacing. No doubt the man had grown rather bored sacking towns on his march back to the city. Men like him were pront to that kind of tendency.

“Hopefully, we’ll have some help with that. I sent a falcon to the Custodia of the Calligati, requesting a rendezvous once we enter the city. With any luck, they’ll be able to provide some assistance.”

“The palace guard? Not a lot those pack of fools could do for us," Civis jeered. “They can barely keep the peace within their own ranks, much less the city.”

Libro felt his temper rising over the man's insolence, but Dux kept a more level head. He regarded the Legate cooly, eyes narrowed, lips hitched in a soft, knowing smile. “Indeed, but that was before Custodia took over. I dare say she’s whipped the Calligati into a functional, fighting force. I would not underestimate her. Neither should you.”

Civis crossed his arms, scowled and looked down. That, it seemed, was that. Dux cleared his throat and continued. “Moving on, we should consider how best to get into the city. With the east gate drawn up, we’re going to have to figure out another way of getting in.”

“What of the west gate?” Regis asked. “Could we not simply go around the city?”

“That would require a boat. Byzantia is surrounded by the Album sea to the south and the Bosba Channel to the north. We’d be sitting ducks if we tried to cross either one of them.”

Regis set his pipe aside and stood up, adjusting his belt with a princely swagger. “I’m not afraid of a little swim.”

“There’s a fine line between bravery and stupidity, my friend,” Dux said. "Especially while in full armor."

“And there’s a fine line between doing something and doing nothing at all." Regis stepped in front of Dux and slapped his hands on the crates, causing the whole stack to tremble violently. A tense air wormed its way between the two. The Northman had his brows knitted together, face set in a grim, angry stare. Dux held his gaze, his own eyes hard and calculating, silence his only answer.

Libro took a step back out of instinct. It was like watching two old bears duke it out over dominance. He’d only seen the two of them get this way once before, back in his first year of the Orienta Campaign, and that had almost turned into a whole bloody affair. They were close to pummeling each other back then. At least here there was a crate between them.

It was at that moment that Magus leaned back on the carpet, chuckling to himself before drawing a thick cloud of smoke from the northman's pipe. “My my, this is quite the blend,” he commented.

Regis turned, glaring at the magician with daggers in his eyes. He bent down and swiped the pipe from the magician's hand. “Don’t touch my things, Wyrdling,” he barked before stalking away, grunting and growling all the while. Libro let out a sigh of relief. It appeared the argument was over.

“Well that was certainly entertaining." Dux rubbed his temples. “But we’re still without a plan.”

“I have an idea,” Culter piped up. Libro and the other Tribunes looked at him in surprise.

“You do?” Civis asked.

“Yes.” Culter nodded.

“Does it involve killing?” Dux asked.

Culter shrugged.” Yes. And no.”

The Captain stared at him for a good while before ultimately relenting. “Fine then. I’m all ears. Can’t be any worse than what Regis suggested.”

A lump formed in Libro’s throat. That was a tall request for a man such as Culter. Maybe swimming in full armor wasn’t such a bad idea after all.