The Rules of Man

WORD ART by Ethan Steelman, 12th grade

I

It was hot. And dry. The only moisture he could feel was the sweat dripping from his brow. They had been at it for hours, incessantly. He felt the soreness in his muscles, the fatigue in his bones, but he wasn’t done. He lived for this. He blocked, he parried, he countered, and yet he could not defeat his adversary. Then, he heard a voice.

“Lucius! Father needs you.”

“Can it wait? I’m training.”

“He said it has to be now.”

Lucius looked to his sparring partner, the head general of the imperial army, a man with a dominating and brutal figure, fit for a man of his position.

“You’d better go. It’s been a long day of work, and you know as well as I that your father doesn’t like to be kept waiting. We’ll continue this later.”

With a sigh of annoyance, he dropped his sword and shield, removed his helmet, and began walking toward his younger brother. As he looked up to the tall, gleaming tower that housed the emperor’s chambers, he could feel his father’s everlasting sneer of disappointment. Regardless of how skilled he became or how much he achieved, that gaze never waned.

“Lucius, look at this sword I made!”

Beside him, his younger brother was brandishing a small, round, wooden stick that just barely resembled a weapon.

“That’s a fine weapon, Magnus. You’ll be a warrior yet.”

“Father says I’ll be the greatest warrior this empire has ever seen.”

Of course, he did, Lucius thought. Their father had always preferred his younger, more tamable brother to him. He never quite understood why. Lucius was his brother’s elder by twelve years, and for those first twelve years, his father had treated him rather well. In the years leading up to his brother’s birth, Lucius’ own mother died in childbirth; his father told him the child, his sister, died as well. Following that heartbreak, his father married a woman who bore him many stillborn children before finally birthing Magnus. Lucius understood that his father had special care for Magnus because of what came before him, but that didn’t explain why he seemed to have tossed his eldest son aside. It dawned on Lucius that there were a great many things he didn’t understand about his father.

“I’m sure you will, brother.”

That was a lie. Lucius loved his brother, but he was determined to be the greatest warrior. There was nothing he loved more than training, the rush he felt when he came under attack, but he had never been in battle. Barbarians, as his father called them, had been raiding and threatening the outer edges of the empire for almost a year, even managing to capture territory in some areas. Lucius had pleaded with his father many times to let him join the army and fight, but each time, his father refused or ignored him. Lucius felt that his father, safe and sound in the capital city deep in the empire was unaware of the true danger posed by the invaders. The capital city rested in the southwest of the empire on the Sapphire Coast, named both for its shining blue waters and its rich deposits of jewels. The empire sprawled about two large continents, separated by a large sea that the ancient gem-traders of the empire had colonized long ago and which the empire had dominated for centuries.

The imperial spire was a behemoth of a building, taller than anything in the rest of the empire. A stout symbol of the empire’s strength and a staunch defender of its reputation, it stood dauntless in the center of the capital city, on the tallest of many hills the sprawling city laid upon. Walking up the stairs took what felt like ages to Lucius. His brother and he had parted ways a short distance from the spire.

The sky had begun to darken and a congregation of clouds had formed over the ocean since Lucius had left the capitol hill early that morning. If he focused on it, Lucius could feel the hum of the static in the air and the rumble of the waves rolling along the sea. A storm was brewing.

“The gods take your stairs” muttered Lucius just before he reached his father’s chambers.

“Hello, father.”

No response.

“You asked for my presence.”

“Yes, I did. What took you so long?”

“I was training.”

“As usual. I have some news for you. The time has come, Lucius. I intend to appoint you Primus Pilus, head of the Imperial Army. Maybe now you can put that training you’ve been doing to some actual use.”

Lucius was overjoyed, but his joy quickly subsided. There was a long, awkward pause. While his father took a seat, Lucius’ mind rushed through all different kinds of emotions. First, excitement, honor, then anxiety, then curiosity, then suspiciousness, and finally, concern. He stood there, pondering for a moment what he had just been told. Finally, the words came to Lucius.

“Father, you honor me, but I need to know what will happen to Brutus.”

“He will retire.”

“Retire?”

“Yes.”

“Well, what do you mean?”

“His services are no longer required.”

“What do you mean? The war is not over yet.”

“Exactly.”

“I don’t understand.”

“He is losing. That is unacceptable. He must be removed.”

“And what of his service, his loyalty? … Surely that means something?”

“Yes, it does. But it won’t for much longer if the Barbarians conquer us.”

“The Barbarians are winning because you refuse to commit the resources that are necessary!”

“The Barbarians are winning because Brutus is failing.”

“You can’t really believe that.”

“I do.”

“You wish to replace Brutus, and you think me a better fit?”

As his father stood up, his dominating presence commanded Lucius’ silence. He walked towards Lucius, closing the distance between them at a slow, steady pace. With each fall of his father’s foot, Lucius’ heart beat faster and faster, louder and louder. He couldn’t help but cower, even if just slightly. His father did not stop until his face was inches from his son’s. He was slightly shorter than Lucius, yet he imposed his might with no challenge.

“I do. And I’ll hear no more of this… Out.”

Defeated, Lucius obeyed his father’s command. Now, Neptune’s waves crashed against the rocky shores and his rains showered the town, painting the limestone buildings of the capitol a murky brown. Jupiter’s thunder boomed as Lucius cried out in anger at his father’s treachery. Surely the whole city had heard him, but he thought naught of their opinions. This had to be a trick, some punishment his father bestowed upon him for his arrogance. Even when granting him great honor, Lucius’ father could not allow his son to be happy. Brutus was always by Lucius’ side, helping him to become a great man and a great warrior. To strip him of his title and take it for himself felt like a grievous betrayal. Greater than that, however, was Lucius’ doubt, in the world, in his father, and most of all in himself. He wondered if his father was right, if he had the talents and the skill to defend against the foreign invaders. As the thunder continued to crash, Lucius felt something. A voice he could not hear called out to him in a tongue he did not know, and yet he understood every syllable of what it had said. The storm seemed to engulf his mind at that moment, and he emerged from it with a renewed vigor and vitality, determined to prove his father wrong.

II

The walk to Brutus’ headquarters was a short one, but it certainly felt much longer. Lucius held his head high as he prepared for the worst. Though he supposed the headquarters belonged to him now, it still felt like an otherworldly setting. A colossal, gallant concoction of corridors and offices centered about a large meeting chamber, adorned with the finest sapphire-blue tapestries known to man, the Imperial House of War stood fierce against the purple-orange sunset. Standing even fiercer in front was a massive depiction of Mars, in all of his glory.

Lucius had never spent much time here, save for the times Brutus had occasionally led him through after training sessions. The place was as foreign as any to Lucius. Brutus’ chamber was oddly conservative compared to the extravagance of the mighty palace outside. The walls were a deep, dark, nightly blue and were decorated very sparsely. Immediately, Lucius’ eyes were drawn to a breastplate on the wall, an arrow piercing it just where the heart lies. As he stared, Brutus walked in behind him.

“Oh, Lucius, I didn’t expect you.”

“Hello, Brutus. Tell me about this breastplate.”

“That old thing there? That is the breastplate I wore in my first battle. I was fighting beside your father, a rather poor strategy, considering how much attention his extravagant armor drew towards us. An arrow pierced through my breastplate, but it held strong. The arrow barely punctured my skin, and I walked away unharmed. Had the plate failed me, I would not be here today.”

“I understand you and my father were friends in your youth.”

“Yes, quite good friends at that. We never left each other’s side, until he was called away to become Emperor after his father passed. Since then, we have both changed.”

If only he truly knew, Lucius thought.

“You are certainly right that he has changed… He no longer wishes for you to serve him.”

“What do you mean?”

As he continued to speak, Lucius could feel the pain brewing in Brutus’ soul, as if his entire life had been stripped away from him in one single moment. It pained Lucius to be the man stripping it away.

“The emperor has requested your retirement… I don’t know how else I can say it.”

Brutus took a moment to fully understand what Lucius was saying.

“Who will be my replacement?”

“I will.”

Lucius did not hesitate, his newfound faith in himself proving to be stronger than even he had realized.

“You?”

Brutus’ disposition ameliorated almost instantly, a wide grin crossing his face. Lucius had expected him to be jealous, hurt, or ashamed. Instead, Brutus was proud, rejoiced, and overjoyed at his student’s success.

“I can think of no man more deserving or qualified than you, my boy.”

“Nevertheless, your work is not done.”

Brutus once again had that look in his eyes again. His eyes gave away his confusion, and he was never great at hiding it.

“What do you mean by that?”

“My father may no longer see a need for your services, but I do.”

“You intend to deny your father’s orders?”

“No, only to circumvent them. I hereby appoint you as my chief Legate. You will serve as my second in command.”

While Lucius was steadfast, determined, and bold in his tone, Brutus took on a weary, cautious perspective.

“This is a rather… brash move, even for you, Lucius. Are you absolutely certain that you want to go through with this?”

Lucius raised his chin higher and broadened his shoulders, a confident smirk across his face.

“I am.”

Brutus gave a quick laugh and straightened his posture as Lucius had just done.

“Well then, commander, what do you wish to do now?”

“I believe we have an empire to defend, my friend. Summon the Centurions. We have much to discuss.”

III

Dozens of men, all imposing in their own right, were gathered around the meeting chamber in the House of War. Lucius was more nervous now than he had ever been in his life, but he was determined not to show it. He must portray strength and vigor in his first war counsel, for he needed these men’s respect and faith. He had never stood nor spoke in this room, let alone do so at the head of the table. Brutus stood adjacent to him, just to his right. Lucius rose from his seat and placed his hands on the table in front of them. It was a large, ovular table that hosted a map of the empire in its grain. Lucius took a moment to himself before speaking.

“Please, sit.”

They sat.

“As you all know, we are threatened by an invasion.”

“...”

“We have been fighting for over a year, and we keep losing.”

“...”

“I intend to change that.”

“How do you plan to do that?”

The man who spoke was far from the opposite end of the table from Lucius. He knew each of their names, from tales and stories he had been told, but he could not put faces to names. The man was brollic and rugged. His voice boomed as he spoke, and Lucius found it was hard not to be intimidated by him. Nevertheless, he held his composure.

“I’m not sure yet. I have been in command for only a few days, and I have not yet been able to assess the situation fully.”

“Why has General Brutus been demoted? He is the finest military mind in the world, and you are nothing but a boy.”

“Yes, I asked myself the same question. Nevertheless, I was appointed, by the emperor.”

Just then, Lucius’ father burst into the room, followed by dozens of Imperial Guards. Everyone in the room stood up instantly to face the emperor.

“Thank you for the introduction, Lucius.”

“Father, I did not exp-”

“Quiet, son. There is urgent business to discuss.”

“Why have you come here, sir?”

Brutus looked at the emperor with a hint of disgust.

“I am here to tell you what you are going to do and how you are going to repel the Barbarians. That is what this meeting is for isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Good. You have fifteen thousand men, and you will march to meet the Barbarians tomorrow.”

“Fifteen thousand? The Barbarians have twice as many, father.”

“Our men are twice as skilled, it will suffice. You will do as I say, or there will be consequences.”

Then, as quickly as he had barged in, his father left. The meeting chamber was left silent, for a time. After quite a long break, Brutus broke the silence.

“We can’t hope to defeat them with only half their men.”

“Especially not with a green boy leading the charge.”

Lucius stared off into space as the men around the table rose and began to argue. They shouted and yelled over each other all at once. Lucius couldn’t discern what they were saying until the same man from earlier at the opposite end of the table spoke up.

“Are you even listening, boy?”

That broke Lucius’ trance, but he did not move his gaze. Unfazed, he began to speak.

“I understand your concerns… I even hold some of them myself. But I am your commander, whether you like it or not. The emperor chose me, personally, to repel the Barbarians. ME!”

Now he turned to face them and began walking around the room, addressing each of the men at his table as he passed them.

“Not you!”

“Not you!”

“Not you!”

“Not you!”

Finally, he stopped beside the man at the opposite end of the table, inches away.

“And not you!”

The room was silent. He turned back towards the rest of the men and started back towards his own seat at the head of the table.

“I am your commander, and if you hold any doubts, I assure you, they are unfounded. We may be at the wrong end of a numbers advantage. Nevertheless, we will crush these invaders and wipe them from our lands. We will fight and we will win. We are up to the challenge, and we cower from no one!”

The men continued their silence but now wore a look of shock. As they pondered what he said, that look transcended to approval quickly enough. Especially Brutus, who looked proud as ever. The man with the robust figure at the end of the table raised his chin and broke out the slightest hint of a smile. His voice now carried a tone of respect, as if he had never seen any man do what Lucius just did.

“What’s the plan, commander?”

Lucius stared him in the eyes as a smirk of his own sprawled across his face.

IV

It was the darkest hour of the night. The sky was clear and all the stars in the universe gleamed with vibrance and beauty. They were now only a few days away from the rage of battle. Though he was tired, Lucius could not sleep. Not only because of the battle he knew was ahead, but because of what he was leaving behind. He had not had a chance to say goodbye to his brother before he left, nor his father, though he didn’t mind foregoing that farewell. He couldn’t sleep. He could not rid his mind of the thoughts, or the doubts. He had confidently boasted that they would crush the Barbarians only a couple of days prior, but now he felt the true weight of their thirty thousand soldiers crushing down upon him. He needed something, anything, some stroke of genius or luck. Otherwise, he and his men were doomed.

“Minerva, Mother of War, I beg you, grant me your wisdom.”

He often prayed in times of need, but he had never heard an answer. He waited for a while, hoping a sign would come to him, but it didn’t. He got up and prepared to try and fall asleep once again. Just as he lay down, he heard the wind outside his tent pick up. It was beyond anything natural, raging like a storm, yet he only heard it. Outside it was perfectly still, and he felt nothing. He exited his tent and what he saw baffled him. The earth, the sky, and the water were moving, creating an image he did not recognize, but he understood what it meant. He sprinted through the army’s camp, shouting.

“Brutus! Officers! Come!”

Brutus was the first to reach him.

“What is it?”

“I know how to do it.”

V

The day finally came. Lucius had urged his army forward at a breakneck pace, hoping to reach this position before the Barbarians did, and he was successful. The sky was overcast, and the field ahead was barren and flat, with a river on each side.

“Forgive me, Commander, but why have we rushed so urgently to reach this place? It seems the same as any field in the Empire.”

“Do you see those rivers, Titus?”

“Yes.”

“Those rivers will serve as natural protection against any flanks.”

Brutus chimed in with his own observations.

“They will also constrict the Barbarians’ line, minimizing their numbers advantage.”

Lucius had thought of that, too, but he felt no need to say so. At that very moment, they began to see the Barbarians emerge up the hill and onto the field. What Lucius had been told about the Barbarians was that they were more of a horde than an army. He always suspected it was false, but now his suspicions were confirmed. The Barbarians were just as organized as his own men, some of them wearing re-painted armor they had stripped from the victims of their invasions through the last year.

“Sound the horn, Brutus.”

Brutus blew into a horn, and Lucius’ men began to take their positions.

“Commander, are you certain that this will work?”

“It will.”

The two armies stood there, glaring at each other for a while. The Barbarians concentrated the heft of their men in the center, choosing depth over width. Lucius’ own center was weak, and he was aware of it. For his plan to work, the Barbarians had to make the first move, so he waited. They waited for quite a while, but eventually, the Barbarians attacked. They screamed and shouted so loud that even Lucius could hear them from his elevated perch over the field.

“Two blasts, Brutus.”

Brutus blew the horn twice, and the plan went into action. As the armies clashed, Lucius’ army’s center suffered the brunt of the attack and began to lose ground. The sides of his army held firm, even gaining a little bit of ground themselves. Lucius’ army stretched and bent, like a bow, but it never broke. This continued for a while until finally, it was time.

“One blast.”

At the sound of that blast, Lucius’ center stopped, holding their ground easily. His flanks lurched forward at unbelievable speed and pivoted to encircle the Barbarian army. Almost instantly, Lucius could see panic set in among the Barbarians. They began to fight wildly, viciously, and some even started to break from the trap. Lucius’ confidence shattered, and he began to panic himself.

“We did it too early. It’s not going to work. Come on.”

Lucius kicked his horse and charged down the hill with his reserves to join the battle. His trap was not entirely a failure, but it wasn’t the crushing blow he had expected. The numbers were now closer to even as a majority of the Barbarian army had fallen. Even so, they still held a small advantage. As he rode nearer and nearer to the battle, the sound deafened Lucius. Lucius’ men, especially his center, were tired. He shouted to his men, hoping to encourage them.

“You are the better men, now prove it!”

“Fight with everything you have!”

“If you fail now, the Empire will fall. Do not let it!”

It wasn’t working. Lucius dismounted his horse and began fighting. They fought for hours. Only a few thousand men from each side remained on the field. Lucius was in the thick of it, fighting for his life. He caught a moment of rest and used it to scan the battlefield. His men were exhausted, sluggish, and drained. Just then, a sword struck Lucius in the head. As his helmet flew to the ground, he stumbled, dazed. He grabbed a bloodied sword off the ground and prepared to defend himself. The man was on horseback and turned to charge at Lucius once again. As he came closer, Lucius could see that he was wearing blue armor, the same as Lucius’ armor. Lucius swung at the man, but he missed, slashing his horse instead. Nevertheless, the man was tossed to the ground, his horse fell on him, and Lucius struck him dead.

Falling to his knees, Lucius looked up at the sky. Lightning flashed and thunder boomed. Somehow, his vigor was restored. He rose to his feet as the rain began to fall and the thunder continued. Scanning the field once again, he was overcome with anger and frustration.

“Jupiter is with us, my friends! Fight for the King of your Gods! Do we cower from man?”

Unexpectedly, Lucius heard back from many of his men.

“No!”

“Then fight with strength, not weakness! Face your foes with courage, not cowardice!”

It was miraculous. Akin to what Lucius had felt when looking up to the sky, his men regained their strength and fought viciously.

“The battle is not over until Morta claims your soul, my friends!”

Slowly but surely, Lucius’ men finished their opponents and the battle was won. Lucius, remembering his encounter on the battlefield, went to his adversary. Searching him, he found a letter, stamped with the seal of the Empire, sent from his father.

---

BIO: Ethan Steelman is a rising senior and this story is the beginning of a series he plans to continue. He likes to work out and play with his dogs in his free time.