B4 Chapter 39: A Different Breed

Tiberius swept into the reception hall unhurriedly, the very picture of control and self-assurance. The robed figures of senators packed the space below his dais to either side. Before them, Legionnaire guards formed long dual lines, their shields held at the ready. A separate contingent of praetorian guards coalesced around Tiberius's throne as he ascended.

He would take no chances here. Not with a people that had so long deemed humanity its enemy.

Tiberius sat, the chatter of the room subsiding at his appearance. They waited in silence as their guests were escorted in. A small group of green-skinned orcs, escorted by even more Legionnaires as they began their measured walk toward the throne. Their heavy steps echoed in the silence.

Prior to receiving the orcs, he'd summoned Marcus for a brief talk about the situation and its context. It proved rather enlightening, both with regard to the circumstances of the barbarians' discovery and a confirmation of their strange behavior. Yet when it came to what the orcs wanted...

The bard had beseeched Tiberius to hear them out, and he would not simply because of Marcus, but to better identify the orcs' true motives.

The group stopped a respectable distance from the throne and bowed. He took a moment to examine them. Beyond a first glance, they did indeed bear little resemblance to the orcs that Tiberius had become accustomed to. It wasn't just because they weren't actively braying for blood and trampling over one another, either. The furs and skins they wore appeared more well-kept than usual, cut in clean lines rather than torn in ragged strips. Both their clothing and bodies had been washed, lending their skin a tone not unlike polished jade now that it wasn't hidden beneath layers of grime and dried blood. A single small figure at the front even wore simple clothing more akin to that of a human.

That figure spoke first, his head still bowed. "Emperor Tiberius Rufius Maro. I, Grund, extend greetings and deep appreciation for this audience."

Tiberius looked down upon the orc. "And who are you to speak for your people?"

"I am their leader," Grund responded smoothly. "The one who serves as steward for my people."

"Leader?" Tiberius asked. "Not Warchief?"

Tiberius could see the orc's wan smile even as he continued to bow. "Warchief is a title steeped in older ways and... less than savory connotations. It is an artifact of past shame and brutality that we would readily leave behind. I require no such force to maintain my title."

Tiberius nodded slowly. That matched with what Marcus had spoken of. "Rise."

The orcs straightened. Grund's eyes remained intensely fixed on Tiberius's own. However, the rest of his group were a different matter. They did their best to maintain an air of decorum while also shooting surreptitious glances at the reception hall around them. Tiberius sensed no real greed in their looks, though. Simply awe and astonishment.

He returned his attention to Grund. "Speak. For what purpose did you desire an audience with me?"

The small orc wasted no time responding. "We acknowledge the superiority of Rome, both on the battlefield and in the realm of civilized culture. As such, we ask for peace, protection, and permission to live under Roman authority."

An uproar filled the reception hall. Shouts of surprise, anger, and confusion rose up from the senators at the declaration. Several insults were hurled at the green-skinned delegation as the Legionnaires suddenly had to split their attention and keep the crowd back.

Tiberius raised a hand. The senators quieted, albeit slowly and reluctantly, until the reception hall returned to order.

He had expected as much. There was precedent for such things, especially for a thoroughly defeated people. Though even knowing the orcs intended to surrender, there was quite a range of possibilities as to what that meant in practice. Oftentimes leaders would frame as "surrender" a veiled attempt to gain as advantageous a treaty as possible while maintaining their people's lives and livelihoods.

"You and your people have proven ardent enemies of the Empire. You have killed many Legionnaires and spilled much blood, human and elven, before this. Why should I grant you the mercy of surrender? Why should I not simply execute you on the spot for your crimes?"

Grund didn't waver at the threat. "Indeed. The emperor speaks true. The orcs as a race have long been a thorn in humanity's heel, mindlessly seeking to raid and destroy any semblance of civilization they could find. However, those are not my people. They never were. I disavow them, one and all."

The orc leader gestured to his compatriots. "These are my people. These enlightened by cleansing fire. Those of weak and undisciplined minds were purged from this world, and in their place we remain. We who understand the folly of the old ways. Though it may seem like semantics, I would contest that the orcs that stand before you are so far removed from their ancestors as to be a different breed entirely."

Grund clasped his hands behind his back. "I will not contest our previous misdeeds. If my execution shall please the emperor, then so be it. I would rather a swift death to ensure my people a chance at life rather than a slow death of starvation and privation. I only ask that you allow them to serve you and, in doing so, grant them a chance to move forward into a brighter future."

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It was at this point that Tiberius noticed another difference. These orcs appeared significantly thinner than any he'd seen before. The detail hadn't struck him as odd before, since even their reduced bulk rendered them as stout and muscular as some of his strongest men. But they were no longer the grotesque heaps of muscle that they once had been.

He also noticed the other orcs tense as Grund offered up his life. Evidently, this "leader" did hold at least some sway and loyalty among the others. Between that and his words, Tiberius felt rather confident that he wasn't simply some figurehead. Nor did he seem to be a sacrificial pawn meant to quell any anger Tiberius may have harbored toward the orcs.

Tiberius tapped one arm of his throne. "You speak of ensuring your people's survival. But the Empire does not suffer leeches. What do you have to offer that could buy your clemency?"

Grund smiled. The accidentally feral expression did more to remind Tiberius of the old orcs than anything he'd seen so far. "I cannot promise you a wealth of farmers, builders, and tanners, nor skilled craftsmen as the humans seem to possess in such quantities. However, I can promise fighters. Warriors of unparalleled strength and ferocity, whose endurance shall not flag even after a week of battle."

Tiberius's frown deepened. "And yet you claim to be different from your predecessors."

"We are. Whereas our ancestors found themselves consumed by an addiction to [Battle Lust], we have conquered it." Grund spread his hands wide. "Each one of my brethren has overcome this cursed condition and brought it to heel for our own purposes. No longer are we slaves to violence. Now, we are the masters."

That was... troubling. If true, it meant that these orcs could prove an even more severe threat than the last. Then again, he had seen these barbarians in action. If their strength could be brought to bear under Rome's banner, and with a rational mind behind it as well... That would be quite a tool indeed. And that wasn't even considering what they could offer his men.

If what they said was true, this [Battle Lust] could be controlled. If so, then what would a Legionnaire endowed with such a skill be capable of?

He nodded slowly. "I see. And what would you ask of me in return?"

Tiberius felt the room tense, leaning forward with renewed anticipation. Not just for the answer, but because of what the question itself signified. The idea that Tiberius was actually considering the offer.

"Only whatever mercies the emperor sees fit to visit upon us." Grund demurred, ignoring his audience. "Our people, our land, and our lives are in your hands. I only ask that my people are granted the ability to feed themselves and live. Without the... distasteful practices of the past... our food situation has grown more dire. Our numbers and the scant game remaining in the west are perhaps the only reason we have not starved already. But should we find new sources of food, we shall be able to blossom into a loyal force at your beck and call."

Right. He recalled some information about how the orcs would manage to feed their incredible numbers. It was a bit reassuring that these orcs didn't seem to share a taste for the flesh of their kin. At least, not outwardly.

"Your loyalty remains to be seen," Tiberius said simply. "Even if you claim to be enlightened, the history between your people and humanity runs deep."

"This is once again true, emperor. But my people have seen the error of our ways. Which is why we place ourselves at your mercy. The art of growing plants for food, military discipline, how to create great works such as this..." He gestured to the grand hall around them. "All of this, we seek to learn. In many ways we are but babes, clean slates eager to receive instruction. Should you see fit to do so, then we shall remain as dutiful as a human child is to his parent."

Tiberius remained doubtful. These orcs did have quite a bit to offer, especially considering how strapped the empire was for Legionnaires. Yet would these orcs truly become the assets that they claimed? Or would getting them back on their feet simply rekindle the spirits of an enemy once destroyed?

Grund seemed to read his doubts in the silence. "I only ask for the opportunity to prove ourselves and our usefulness. Whatever punishments or conditions you wish to levy against us shall be borne without complaint. So long as even a single one of my people lives to carry our people forward, I shall be content. But as I said, we are at your mercy."

Tiberius stroked his chin as he leaned back, considering. It was an unthinkable offer in many ways: to train his former enemy and allow them to serve them in a military capacity. Of course, it happened all the time in the old world. Part of the reason why Rome conquered so much was to leverage the people and cultures of other places and strengthen her own.

But this felt different. Was it because the orcs were a different race entirely? That hadn't mattered with the elves or the dwarves. Or was it because they seemed so monstrous? That also was no longer the case. The clear intelligence in both their eyes and Grund's manner of speech made that clear.

Tiberius could simply have them all killed. Or simply allow them to starve. But how certain could he be that the job was finished? As Grund said, if even a single one survived, they may well be able to revitalize their entire race and return for revenge. Considering their ability to reproduce, that could be disastrous.

But if he did take advantage of the weapon being handed to him... If there were any other pockets of orcish resistance out there, waiting for an opportune moment, Grund's people could prove a valuable bulwark against them. One that allowed his Legionnaires to continue being utilized in other places. It would also give him the ability to watch over this threat rather than allow it to simmer unchecked.

He looked over the orcs appraisingly. While they were clearly intelligent, that wasn't to say they were as intelligent as an average human. Grund clearly was on the upper end, but the others? He couldn't be sure. Perhaps they would make better footsoldiers than centurions and officers.

Tiberius realized there was a lot to be explored here. He wasn't at all convinced of the orcs' true loyalties, even though he didn't sense deceit in their words. But until they gave him reason to strike them down, then perhaps adding more subjects to the empire could work in his favor.

"I will consider your offer," Tiberius said simply. He meant it, too. It was a tantalizing prospect, but one with too many unknowns.

Grund bowed low. "Thank you, emperor. You honor us greatly."

"Before I make a final decision, however, I will need to better understand your people's capabilities." Tiberius continued. "You will answer my men's questions and submit to whatever trials they deem fit."

That predatory smile returned to the orc's face. "Of course. It would be our pleasure."