Page 18 of Empire of Wrath and Ruin
What struck me most, however, was their discipline. They moved like a unit that had trained together for years, each person knowing exactly where the others would be. It was the kind of coordination I'd seen in elite Imperial legions, not the rabble I'd been conditioned to expect from "barbarian" tribes.
Their leader stepped forward, a woman with iron-grey hair braided with what looked like small bones or carved stones. She spoke in a language I didn't recognize, her tone questioning but not hostile.
Sirrax responded in the same language, his words flowing with a fluency that surprised me. I watched the woman's expression change as he spoke, surprise replacing suspicion.
"What are you telling her?" I asked quietly.
"That we not here to fight," Sirrax replied without taking his eyes off the Talfen leader. "That we look for someone who was... was taken from us."
The woman asked another question, gesturing toward our group. When Sirrax answered, her gaze fixed on Tarshi with sudden intensity. She said something to her companions, and I watched in amazement as several of them actually bowed their heads in what looked like respect. No, more than that. Fear. Why would they be afraid of Tarshi?
Tarshi noticed it too, his brow furrowing in confusion. "Why are they—"
The woman interrupted him with a rapid string of words, clearly addressing him directly. When he could only stare at her in bewilderment, her expression shifted to something like confusion, then what might have been disappointment.
"What just happened?" I demanded, my tactical instincts screaming that we were missing something crucial.
"I am... I am not sure," Sirrax admitted, still speaking quietly with the patrol leader. "They seem to know Tarshi or think they should know. But when he not respond to their words..."
The conversation continued for several more minutes, with Sirrax apparently explaining our situation while the Talfen warriors maintained their positions around us. I used the time to study them more closely, noting details that reinforced my growing respect for their capabilities.
Their equipment was uniformly excellent—not just functional but crafted with the kind of attention to detail that spoke of master smiths and leatherworkers. The steel of their weapons gleamed with oil and care, and their armour, while light, was clearly designed for both protection and mobility. These weren't desperate raiders scraping by in mountain caves. They were the soldiers of an organized state.
Finally, the patrol leader seemed to reach a decision. She barked orders to her subordinates, and I felt my heart sink as I realized what was happening.
"We're being arrested," I said flatly.
"Taken into... protection," Sirrax corrected, though his expression was grim.
"Bullshit," Antonius growled. "This is a capture, not a rescue."
"Maybe," Sirrax agreed. "But is also best chance to find Livia. And Marcus..." He turned to me, lowering his voice. "I hear something. They mention 'other prisoner.' I think... I think she is here."
Relief and fear warred in my chest. If Livia was indeed being held in the city, then our desperate gamble had paid off. But getting captured was hardly the rescue plan I'd been hoping for.
The Talfen soldiers began binding our hands with what looked like rope but felt strangely smooth against my skin—probably some kind of mountain fibre I wasn't familiar with. When they reached Sirrax and Tarshi, however, the patrol leader held up a hand, speaking briefly with each of them before gesturing for them to remain unbound.
"What makes you two special?" Jalend asked, wincing as the rope around his wrists tightened.
"Are Talfen," Sirrax replied honestly. "For me, maybe because I born here. For Tarshi..." He glanced at our friend, noting the continued respectful treatment from the guards. "Talfen, but also… I think is something we not understand yet."
As we were marched down into the valley, I found myself grudgingly impressed by our captors' professionalism. They maintained proper spacing and watched angles, rotated their guard positions, and showed every sign of being well-trained soldiers rather than the undisciplined savages Imperial propaganda had led me to expect.
The closest village we passed through only reinforced that impression. The buildings were well-constructed and clearly permanent, with stone foundations and careful attention to details like drainage and defence. Children played in the streets while their parents went about daily tasks that looked remarkably similar to those in any Imperial town—tending gardens, repairing tools, caring for livestock.
"They're not what I expected," I admitted quietly to Septimus as we walked.
"What did you expect?"
I considered the question seriously. "Honestly? Mud huts and desperate raiders living hand to mouth. Not... this." I gestured at the prosperous-looking village around us. "This looks like a functioning civilization."
"Because it is," Septimus said. "I saw it for myself in the village that took Tarshi and I in after the festival attack. The Empire spent many centuries convincing its citizens that everyone outside their borders are inferior, uncivilized. It makes easier to justify taking lands and making slaves out of them."
The road to the city proper seemed to stretch endlessly ahead, winding between fields and smaller settlements. Each step brought the massive structure looming on the mountain closer, its dark stone catching the sunlight in ways that made it seem almost alive. I couldn't help but marvel at the engineering required to build such a place – the knowledge, resources, and organization needed far exceeded what Imperial scholars claimed the Talfen possessed.
"This changes everything," I murmured to Septimus.
"How so?" he asked, keeping his voice low as a guard glanced our way.
