B3 Chapter 38: A Perfectly Reasonable Response
The Gilded Lily was packed full, its crowd intoxicated and rowdier than usual as they enjoyed a brief respite from their duties and cares. That would have made it a perfect environnt for Marcus at the mont, who wanted nothing more than the sa. Unfortunately, the Legionnaires around him had other ideas.
“Congratulations, Marcus!”
“A toast to the father-to-be!”
“Hear, hear!”
The entire tavern chorused its assent as Marcus let his head fall against the bar with a heavy thud and a groan.
“You’re gonna give yourself a bruise if you keep doing that.”
Marcus looked up to see Bernard at his elbow. “At this point, I honestly don’t care.
“You, not caring about your looks?” Bernard scoffed. “The end tis truly have co upon us.”
The man began to refill Marcus’s glass with sothing dark and amber with an almost tallic sll to it. Marcus wrinkled his nose as he glanced up at the bottle. “Did you run out of the good stuff?”
“Nope. But you’re certainly in no state to appreciate it.”
Marcus shrugged and let his head fall back down as the man recorked the bottle. He'd hoped to simply blend in and drink his troubles away at his favorite old haunt, perhaps among so good company. Unfortunately, that hadn't happened.
Despite its usually more upscale clientele, the recent shake up among the nobility ant that the Gilded Lily suddenly found itself with quite the dearth of its usual custors. A gap that Bernard had been more than happy to fill with Romans who found themselves newly flush with coin paid from Novara’s coffers. With a little bit of advertising and so discreet adjustnts to his prices, the place found itself with quite an influx of new patrons, although plenty of soldiers still preferred the more rough and tumble environnt of more dingy establishnts.
It ant that the place was no longer the safe haven that Marcus had hoped for. Especially given that news of his predicant had spread like wildfire among the n at a speed that put even the juiciest of court gossip to absolute sha. Which ant that every man in the building had made it his personal mission to tease the bard.
Of course, he could have gone to another tavern to escape. But that tactic hadn't exactly helped him the last three tis he'd tried. And the ones filled with Novarans tended to swarm him for entirely different reasons unless he disguised himself. So as troubleso as the constant barrage of jokes was, it was still preferable to the alternative.
A Legionnaire sidled up next to him, his ruddy face plastered with a wide grins. He elbowed Marcus in the side. “Cheer up, friend. It’s not so bad. Why, I had a dozen kids at ho myself.”
“Easy for you to say, Appius,” another called over. “How many tis did you ever see them?”
“That’s besides the point,” the man waved the criticism off. “It’s not my fault that we were on campaign so often.”
“Says the man who sought out whatever battlefield he could. Isn’t that why you transferred to our Legion?”
“It was coincidence, I say, coincidence! Not that I’d expect you to understand, Sextus. Having won constantly throwing themselves at is simply a cross that I must bear…”
Appius sighed dramatically as Marcus raised an eyebrow. “Is that what you call it? Because I’m relatively certain that it was you pouring your heart out to that tailor’s daughter the other day. What was it you called her? Your ‘Venus descended unto re mortals’?”
The Legionnaire reddened and began to sputter as another chid in. “That was you Appius? Shit, man. From the stories I heard, I thought for sure it would’ve been Cassius!”
“Hey!” The man in question sidled up to Marcus’s other side. “You think I’m that sappy?”
“Just that you have a bit of a flair for the overdramatic—like when you turned the story of Regulus falling on his ass into a ten minute long epic…”
The conversation devolved into a series of barbs and insults that were soon being slung about the tavern like so much mud. It was all in good fun. Well, for the most part. Bernard had to kick a few Legionnaires out before they started fights.
It wasn’t as though he disliked Brianna and Rose. In fact, the twin princesses were as beautiful as ever, despite their confinent and their current states. And the prospect of enjoying their affections again was admittedly quite tantalizing still. But the entire situation was one that he was entirely unprepared to deal with—and unwilling, if he were being honest. And so, for the mont, Marcus allowed himself ti to just not think about it. At least for a little while.
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At so point, Cassius nudged Marcus. “It’s really not so bad, friend. You'll be busy enough that you'll hardly have ti to worry about such things. And when you next turn around, poof!’ The Legionnaire made a flourish with his hands. “They'll be old enough to train as soldiers.”
Marcus simply nodded and ruminated over his lot. It seed to be the prevailing opinion of the Legionnaires that this problem wasn’t such a big deal. Perhaps they were used to being away at war and leaving their wives and mistresses to care for any children left behind. Or perhaps that was a more general Roman attitude. Either way, it was difficult to tell given the incredibly biased sample he was currently faced with.
Still, not every man shared the sa opinion. Marcus had picked up on more than a few Legionnaires with more lancholic airs about them, staring deep into their tankards as they sat lost in thoughts of those left behind.
Cassius spoke again, pulling Marcus from his thoughts once more. “Don’t worry, Marcus. Rember, if you ever need an excuse to be away or a place to lay low from your mistresses, we’ll always have a place for you. I an that genuinely. I doubt you’ll need it, given how the emperor runs you ragged, but the offer still stands.”
He sighed and smiled at the soldier. “Thank you, friend. I appreciate it, truly.”
That was another benefit of staying around the Romans. As much as they loved giving him a hard ti, he didn't think for a second that any one of them would rat out his location to the princesses. Even Bernard wouldn’t betray him like that. Well, not without getting paid an obscene amount, of which Marcus would insist on taking a cut.
Cassius grinned. “Of course. So long as you allow the n to help train your boys once they’re grown. I imagine you’ll have no shortage of volunteers. Assuming they're sons, of course. And if they are… Might I suggest that Cassius makes for a fine na.”
Marcus groaned, his forehead kissing the wooden surface of the bar yet again. “Not you, too…”
“What? I just want to make sure you take at least one good na under consideration.”
He ignored the Legionnaire chuckling at his misfortune. The n seed quite invested in helping Marcus na his potential children. He'd even heard a few betting pools start up in relation to the matter. Much to his chagrin.
“In the anti,” Appius butted into the conversation. His words were a bit more slurred than before. “You know what’s always good for a distraction? A bit of music!”
Cassius glared at the man. “Really? Are you honestly going to trouble him to play for you?”
“What? Appius said defensively.
Cassius opened his mouth to speak again, only for Marcus to wave him off. “No, the man has a point. If I stay here, it won’t be long until Bernard is serving the nastiest swill he can find under the floorboards. Besides, performing has always been a good way to take my mind off things.”
Draining the last of his drink, Marcus flowed to his feet. They itched slightly, but he resisted the urge to run and send himself into another few months’ worth of self-imposed exile. Instead, he navigated the slightly unsteady path to the Gilded Lily’s stage.
His approach didn’t go without notice. A number of Legionnaires raised their tankards in approval as they began shouting requests.
“Do that one about the elven ladies!”
“Nah, I’ve heard it too many tis. Let’s hear sothing different.”
“Hey, Marcus!” One shouted after him. “I find myself missing my lady back ho. How about you sing one about that?
The bard almost refused before an idea popped into his head. “A song about your woman, you say? Well, then. Ask and you shall receive!”
Marcus leapt onto the stage with only the slightest bit of unsteadiness. He strumd a few notes on his lute to limber up his fingers once more and sharpen his focus. The haze of alcohol parted like curtains in preparation for his performance as a mischievous smirk found his face. Perhaps it was soone else's turn to be the target of the n's jokes.
Oh, Lady Lupa, she loves bold tales
Way, hay, roll and go
Of lost-road n and the adventurers’ trails
Way, hay, roll and go
And we marched all night
And we marched all day
Spent our pay on Lady Lupa!
Well, the legion’s gone by road and river
Way, hay, roll and go
She waves us on, though her smile may quiver
Way, hay, roll and go
And we marched all night
And we marched all day
Spent our pay on Lady Lupa!
Oh, many a lady from Ro to Gaul now
Way, hay, roll and go
Left behind for the emperor’s call now
Way, hay, roll and go
And we marched all night
And we marched all day
Spent our pay on Lady Lupa!
There were a good number of shouts and a few laughs had at the expense of the poor bloke that had requested the song. But by the end, Marcus had the entire tavern singing right along with him. He was still the center of attention, but for entirely different reasons—ones that fell far more inside of his comfort zone.
He smiled, feeling a bit of life return as he seamlessly transitioned to the next song. Perhaps this was just what he needed. Between the matter with the princesses, the constant fighting of the Legion, and all of the running around between, he really had been busy as of late. Perhaps it was ti to take a well deserved break.
Marcus accepted another drink from one of the Legionnaires, tossing it back to wet his throat. If he was going to take a break, then he was going to make the most of it. After all, who knew when an opportunity like this would find him again?
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