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Comfort talk starts up again. Talk about what they'll do when they get home, and who they'll do it with. Most of the men declare that they'll go right back to work at their various businesses, some of the younger ones will go back to school. They all miss their wives, their children, mothers, brothers, sisters.
Henrii lays a heavy hand upon Aramis' shoulder, bridging the gap between their horses with ease. Henrii's got some long arms. "Going home to work on that third baby?" he teases. His grin is still as wide as it was during that night in the tent when Quentinn and Izzlude died. He's minus a tooth, but the grin is still wide and unaffected. His spirits are high. He's going home to his wonderful life, his wonderful family, his wonderful existence. Aramis just left one war and will be coming home to another. His entire life was war with small periods of peace inbetween.
The jagged outline of Barton Town can be seen at the edge of the world. A loud cheer erupts, and individual fears are drown out in the thunderous applaud. Soon. They'll all be back home soon.
Finally, Legion XIV crosses the border and into Gaian territory. There is no applause this time, nor is there sounds of relief whooshing from the lungs of tired Crusaderes. These men just want to return home, to their families. Aramis wanted nothing more than to see his children again.
First, however, the Church would want to pretty much bring them in and pat them down one-by-one. If any man had looted Darlis Kesh or Mabus Quiis, the Church would find out. All of that treasure was to be taken and pooled, to be evenly distributed first amongst the higher-ups, then the rest goes to the dogs. The trickle-down system was used and used often by the Desuits.
Looting never even crossed Aramis' mind. He wanted to get in and get the hell out, and didn't want to bring anything with him but cold, hard cash, something to bring home for the kids and their parents, both of them. Nobody from Legion XIV got their hands on anything valuable, at least... not as far as he could tell. The unit was pretty much decimated after the blast, and all that as left was ashes and dust. All their pay would come out of donations from the newly converted, that was the only viable source. Force a tribute and pay the soldiers that way.
The sum wouldn't be pitiable. The Church payed well, even if the commanders, priests, cardinals and bishops got the largest sum of it and all soldiers like he ever got was scraps from their tabl---
Wait.
He was a priest. He was still ordained in the Church of Deus and, under their laws, would get some of best of the spoils. They'd give him a hard time for all of this, sure, but if they dared to throw the book at him and dangle his signature in front of their faces for reinstatement, he could hold up the mirror and do the same to them about his being ordained.
Deus, maybe you did truly reward your faithful.
 Bleeding Apocalypse · Wed Mar 07, 2007 @ 10:01pm · 0 Comments |
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