Legion Britannia, "Steam and Steel"

Chapter 18 - Reunion in a far off land.

In a secluded, dimly lit cabin, Ahmed, the son of the Sultan’s aide, lay peacefully in slumber, his features softened by the flickering candlelight that danced around the room. Tiberius approached Ahmed with a sense of purpose, gently rousing him from his rest. As Ahmed stirred awake, his eyes met Tiberius’s with a mix of surprise and recognition, a silent acknowledgment passing between them.

Ahmed, the son of the powerful Sultan’s aide whom they had daringly liberated from the confines of the Spanish Bastille, now lay before them. Their mission was clear: to return Ahmed safely to his father and offer their services as skilled mercenaries, seeking favor and support in their quest for revenge against the Emperor who had wronged them. As the group prepared to unveil their intentions to Ahmed, a palpable sense of anticipation and resolve filled the cabin, setting the stage for the high-stakes journey that lay ahead.

The three disgraced warriors exchanged secretive glances, a silent understanding passing between them as they recognized the crucial role Ahmed played in their intricate plan. With a shared sense of determination, they knew that gaining the trust of Ahmed’s father, the Sultan’s aide, was their key to unlocking the fortress and locating Gaius, the target of their quest for vengeance. Using their wits and guile, they strategized how to leverage this newfound favor to worm their way into the heart of the Sultan’s fortress, where Gaius was believed to be hidden. As they plotted their next move, a tense energy filled the cabin, each warrior grappling with the weight of the decisions they were about to make.

In the shadows of the dimly lit cabin, the question loomed large: Would they carry out their mission to eliminate the once trusted friend of the Emperor, Gaius, or would they opt for a daring escape, bringing him back as a valuable prize to claim the Emperor’s reward? The air crackled with uncertainty as they weighed the risks and rewards of their impending choices, understanding that the fate of their mission and their futures hung in the balance of the decisions they were about to make.

“Where can one get a drink in this hell hole?” Sebastes quipped, turning to Ahmed and playfully wrapping his arm around the young man’s shoulders. “You look like you could use one, Sebastes,” Ahmed chuckled in response.

As the four men made their way down the gangway onto the bustling quay, Sebastes called out, “Liam, Declan, stay with me. Once we locate a tavern, we’ll settle in while you contact the Sultan’s Aide. The rest of you, stand guard over the ship until we send for you.” The plan was set, and each man knew his role in this risky endeavor as they ventured into the heart of the vibrant yet treacherous city. As the group moved through the bustling streets of the ancient port, a sense of unease settled over Mark Anthony. A subtle shift in the atmosphere signaled to him that they had not gone unnoticed. The keen eye of Mark Anthony caught glimpses of shadowy figures watching their every move, their attire and demeanor unmistakably marking them as the Sultan’s spies.

Whispers began to ripple through the crowded streets, carried on the warm breeze that swept through the labyrinthine alleys of the city. It became evident to Mark Anthony that their presence had not gone unnoticed by the keen-eyed network of informants loyal to the Sultan and his aide. Word had already started to spread like wildfire through the ancient port, setting off a chain reaction that threatened to complicate their carefully laid plans. Realising the gravity of the situation, Mark Anthony subtly signaled to his companions, a silent warning passing between them. With the knowledge that they were under watchful eyes and that their movements had not gone unnoticed, the group knew that they needed to tread carefully and swiftly adapt their strategy to navigate the treacherous waters of politics and intrigue that now surrounded them.
The group, keenly aware of the eyes upon them, swiftly located a suitable tavern nestled in the heart of the ancient port. Stepping inside, they were enveloped by the cozy ambience of the dimly lit establishment. The tavern’s interior boasted old wooden beams overhead, their weathered surfaces telling tales of years gone by, while rustic plaster-covered walls exuded a sense of history and character.
The air was thick with the pungent stench of sweat and stale ale, mingling with the cacophony of sounds that filled the tavern. Merchants and sailors bustled about, their voices rising above the clinking of coins and the hum of lively chatter as they bartered and traded the exotic goods they had brought from distant lands.

Seated at a weathered wooden table, the group settled in as Liam, ever the resourceful one, fetched over flagons of ale. The ale, cool and frothy, provided a welcome respite from the heat and chaos of the bustling port. As they raised their flagons in a silent toast, the group’s gaze swept over the eclectic mix of patrons in the tavern, each one a character in their own right, adding to the tapestry of sights and sounds that enveloped them in this vibrant corner of the world.

As Tiberius ordered Liam and Declan to make haste to the Sultan’s aide’s home to announce the return of his son, Declan’s request to finish their drinks was met with a firm response. “Make it swift and get on your way,” Tiberius spoke softly but with conviction, his gaze scanning the room at the restless natives. “Get the message to him now, or we could all find ourselves back in a cell.”

With a sense of urgency, Liam and Declan slipped away from the tavern unnoticed, blending into the throng of patrons and disappearing into the crowded streets. Meanwhile, a large bald man approached the table where the remaining group sat, his imposing presence casting a shadow over them.

“I know you, you’re the dog Tiberius,” the man bellowed, his voice booming through the tavern. “Once a great man, and now? Nothing more than a pirate, a dog. How the mighty have fallen.” With a menacing flex of his chest, the man leaned forward, knocking the flagon from Tiberius’s hand and spilling beer down the once-honored Centurion.

Tiberius attempted to defuse the situation, offering to buy the man a drink, but before he could rise, the colossal figure forced him back down, his large hands pressing down on Tiberius’s shoulders. Despite Mark Anthony’s warning glance, the tension in the room escalated, and before long, chaos erupted.

The occupants tavern broke into a frenzied brawl as fists flew and bodies collided in a whirlwind of violence. Tables were overturned, chairs splintered, and ale splashed across the room as the patrons engaged in a no-holds-barred melee. The once peaceful atmosphere was shattered by the sounds of grunts, shouts, and breaking glass, as the group found themselves embroiled in a chaotic bar fight, their survival dependent on their skills and quick thinking in the midst of the tumultuous fray. At the center of the chaotic brawl, Tiberius found himself face to face with the formidable bald man, their eyes locked in a fierce battle of wills. The exchange of blows was swift and brutal, each punch and parry met with a calculated response as they danced around each other in a deadly dance of combat. With adrenaline coursing through his veins, Tiberius seized an opportunity and leaped onto the back of the massive man, wrapping his arms around his neck in a vice-like chokehold. The bald giant struggled against Tiberius’s hold, his movements becoming slower and more sluggish as the lack of oxygen began to take its toll.

In a final effort, the bruised giant dropped to his knees, his body becoming a dead weight that pinned Tiberius to the blood and beer-soaked floor. As the world spun around him, Tiberius felt his own consciousness slipping away, darkness creeping at the edges of his vision. Just as Tiberius began to lose his grip on reality, Sebastes sprang into action, freeing him from the grasp of the unconscious giant. Gasping for breath, Tiberius lay on the floor, his chest heaving as he struggled to regain his composure. The stench of blood and ale hung heavy in the air, mingling with the sounds of the ongoing melee as the tavern continued to erupt in chaos around them. With Sebastes’s help, Tiberius managed to steady himself, his head clearing as he took in the frenzied scene unfolding before him.

As a single gunshot rang out over the clanking of heavy armor, the chaotic brawl in the tavern came to an abrupt halt. The group found themselves facing a line of long spears held by the imposing Sultan’s guards, their stern expressions leaving no room for negotiation. Among the guards stood Ahmed’s father, a look of disappointment etched on his face as he surveyed the scene before him.
As they made their way through the bustling streets of the ancient port, the group couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation and uncertainty hanging in the air. The events of the evening had been tumultuous, and the prospect of a meeting with Ahmed's father, a figure of power and influence in the city, carried with it a weight of importance and intrigue.

Tiberius and his men exchanged knowing glances, silently acknowledging the gravity of the situation they found themselves in. As they followed Ahmed and his father into the heart of the city, they braced themselves for the discussions that lay ahead, aware that their fate and the success of their mission hung in the balance in the hands of the powerful man leading them through the labyrinthine streets leading them towards the Sultans palace.