For the Glory of Rome: Chronicles of an Isekai'd Legion

Chapter 10: Art Thou Upset, Brother?

Stepping inside of the mayor's mansion felt like being transported to an entirely different place. The building's construction, for one, boasted far more artistic flourishes and decorative trims than it had any right to. Its opulent lacquered furniture and gilded wall hangings were an even further cry from the comparably austere fixtures and simple workmanship found elsewhere in Habersville. Marcus couldn't help but appreciate the expense, even if it was rather tacky and in poor taste.

Not for the first time, he found himself wondering where the money to afford such luxuries had come from. He doubted the town's budget could cover the lavish decorations and art lining the walls. He'd seen simpler rooms in palaces back in the capital—though even those were more tasteful than this monstrosity. But perhaps this explained the seeming lack of funds dedicated toward defenses and general town upkeep.

Heading down the hall, Marcus wondered how much longer they'd keep calling this place "the mayor's mansion." The mayor technically still lived here, but no one bothered pretending he actually ran the place anymore. According to Marcus's [Appraisal], he still held the class, but he'd wager that most of its functionality had been stripped when Tiberius and the Legion took over. At least, that would explain no small part of the man's fervent protestations at the time.

Marcus paused at the kitchen's entrance, debating whether to grab something to eat before heading upstairs. He didn't particularly need to eat yet. Then again, he recalled the rather cute serving maid who'd dropped off his breakfast that morning.

Spinning his hat on his finger, he sauntered into the kitchen, humming a merry tune. His mood soured instantly, however, at the sight of the pudgy man sitting at the table and chewing with his mouth open.

The mayor looked up and met Marcus's gaze, a flash of recognition crossing his face. His expression immediately twisted into one of pure rage.

"You!" The mayor sputtered, bits of food spraying across the table as he pointed a sausage-like finger at Marcus.

The bard couldn't help but wince at the display. Still, it seemed more than a little excessive. By this point, the mayor had seen him several times and even been there when he'd introduced himself to Tiberius. At no point had he ever had this visceral of a reaction to his presence. Why now?

"Mayor Blaufort," Marcus replied affably, running through his memories to see if he might've done something to personally offend the man. "I don't believe I've had the chance to personally introduce myself?"

The mayor ignored his attempts at pleasantries, his face turning beet-red. "You... you dare! Don't play the part of the fool with me! I know exactly who you are, you scoundrel! What you've done—and now, the audacity to come into my home... I'll have you locked up!" He slammed a fist on the table, knocking over his glass of wine and causing the dishware to jump noisily.

Marcus tensed, ready to dash out of the room at a moment's notice. In hindsight, perhaps he should've expected something like this. He had been a wanted man fleeing the town before the Legion's arrival. With everything going on, that whole matter had actually managed to slip his mind. But apparently, not everyone had forgotten.

"Mayor Blaufort," Marcus said, raising his hands in a placating gesture. He hoped that using the man's title might assuage what was probably a sorely bruised ego. "I understand that you may think me a scoundrel. But to be completely frank, I don't believe my history is of the utmost concern at the moment. Not with far more... pressing matters at our town's doorstep."

The man blustered incoherently, his face somehow managing to darken even further. His knuckles whitened as both hands clenched into tight fists. "You—! Our town?!

The mayor made to rise from his seat. Marcus stood his ground, spreading his hands wide as he changed tactics. "Let's not be rash. I have no quarrel with you personally, my good mayor. Besides, I am expected at the Legionnaires' camp this afternoon, and I'm confident that certain people would be quite unhappy if I did not attend."

At the veiled reference to Tiberius, the mayor paled, remaining in his chair. Still, his resolve didn't fully waver. His shout turned to a low growl. "You... you think that hiding behind those— those barbarians will save you? I am the mayor of this town! I will see you face justice for your crimes!"

Marcus frowned internally. Given how the guards had come down on him, he'd expected that news of his deeds had come this far. However, the mayor's reaction seemed... disproportionate. Personal, even. To the point where his passive [Charm] wasn't doing much to calm him. Something was clearly off.

He decided to take a chance. "When you speak of my 'crimes,' I assume you're referring to...?"

"My daughter!" The mayor shrieked, pointing at him with furious indignation. When the bard simply stared at him, he continued. "The pride of my life, my sweet Myra! You— you defiled her, you lecherous scum! Don't pretend you don't remember!"

Marcus froze. "Seized? You don't mean...?"

The portly man waved a hand dismissively. "They didn't just take over the town. They seized it. As in, conquered it for whatever blighted nation they came from. The king will surely have received a notification about it. Why, I wouldn't be surprised if there's an entire fighting force on their way right now to fend off the fools who dared to declare war on Novara!" He paused, the color draining from his face. "Wait... You don't think they'll brand me as a traitor, do you?"

Marcus's mind raced with the revelation. Part of his purpose here was to ensure that no messages got out about the Legion's presence. He hadn't considered that the kingdom might already know about it. If that was the case, then they really might be in trouble.

"Not at all, Mayor Blaufort," Marcus reassured the man absently as his mind raced. "I'm certain they would assume you were a prisoner, nothing more."

"No... no, they'll definitely think me a traitor!" The man's jowls began to tremble with fear. "I need to send word and explain what happened. Otherwise...! But what if they think me incompetent for allowing my town to be conquered? What if they strip me of my title?"

Blaufort moaned, putting his head in his hands as he despaired. Marcus, on the other hand, perked up slightly at the opportunity. This might be a chance to ensure the mayor didn't cause future problems.

"Actually... you may be right. I doubt Novara with be particularly pleased with any of this," he sighed melodramatically. "Perhaps it would be best to flee the country? Or better yet, seek protection from the king's retribution?"

The mayor looked up, clenching his jaw. "From who? The barbarians? Like I'd entrust my life to them!"

Marcus shrugged. "From everything I've seen, they have been quite reasonable. Perhaps if you simply petition them—"

"You're only saying that because you're already a traitor," the mayor spat. "Some of us are loyal citizens of the kingdom!"

He suppressed a sigh of disappointment. Well, it was worth a shot. Though the response made him wonder if the man knew just a little more than he let on.

"Regardless, it is your decision." Marcus stood gracefully from his chair. "However, I encourage you to consider your options well. And remember, I am always open to talk if you require it. I have managed to gain some sway with the Legionnaires, so perhaps I could enquire on your behalf..."

"Ha! Look at you, pretending to be important." The mayor sneered, his voice dripping with disdain. "You're nothing but a useless wandering entertainer. No better than a common vagabond!"

Marcus grimaced as his skills lost their grip.

He shook his head. "Perhaps. Perhaps it is better to be a knowing performer than an ignorant one. Either way, I would strongly advise that you do your best to make yourself useful, at the very least. Otherwise... you may be tossed out with the rest of old Habersville's fixtures."

The mayor stared at Marcus, slack-jawed at his bluntness. To be fair, the man had earned it. He certainly didn't seem as though he'd come around anytime soon. With a dramatic flourish of his coat, Marcus spun on his heel and strode out of the room, foregoing his afternoon snack and heading out of the mansion.

The conversation had given him a lot to think about. He knew that Novara's military was stretched thin with the war in the west. At most, they might send a small squad to investigate Habersville, then just enough of a force to get the place under control if it was necessary. But with the Legion's sheer size... it would take a large, concentrated effort to deal with them, even if they were only level ones. He still wasn't convinced the king would deem such a mission worth it, even if they had declared war on Novara.

With his errand finished, Marcus headed back toward the Legion's camp. .Perhaps Tiberius needed to keep a watch on the mayor, just in case. Even if the king did already know about Habersville's capture, then keeping the extent of the problem under wraps would buy them precious time to get the situation under control. And that meant more time before Marcus needed to consider fleeing again.