8 ships docked near Rome greeted by a regional army armed with nothing less than bronze and gold parade equipment. A fanfare played as Lorenzo de Ragus was carried of the ship on a stretcher. He gestured for his aide to come to his side as the parade slowly begun telling of his distaste for the event and music chosen. He had called for a national assembly to gather in Rome knowing very well what had to be done, and the choice of Rome over Moneum was not only because of its imperial palace to hold the meeting but also to give him time to recover as public officials and nobles from all over had to make way on a less developed road network.

Red and soft was the soils which gave way as the legate Stoldo Caepasius stepped of his horse. He had not participated in the battle which made him anxious and his teeth clutched his jaw shut as he gazed across the battlefield before turning to his captain giving him a big slap on the shoulder with his only hand, the man stumbled. The legate then cleared his nose “Was it glorious?” the captain proudly stretching his back up giving away a brave smile “Indeed legate! This will surely be the last war we ever see for Lazica.”

“How many do you think you killed?” asked the legate returning his gaze to the battlefield looking from man to man walking or sitting listening to the occasional screams of battle which continued in the medical tent where hundreds awaited treatment with pale faces. The captain pointed across the battlefield “Many legate, many of them.”

“You know the size of their army, you were at Pisa with me. You know very well the monster we are against. Think over your answer again, how many do you think we killed?” The legate glanced at his captain for a moment looking for signs of weakness or disloyalty and his subordinate began sweating “Erm… this army was rather small legate”

“But at least the way is open to Venice?”

“Yes” said the captain turning away from his lord as his pride and confidence fell apart, “I believe so”

The legate clenched his teeth again as he mounted his horse screaming himself sore as captains and officers came to offer him help, he was not to be treated as a cripple. The horse sank down slightly in the soggy mud and the legate looked down at his captain bearing a most hideous smile as his scared face wrinkled and stretched showing Stoldos teeth “I expect to see you there in three days captain, and never forget your manners again, I am still capable of disciplinary actions”

The small army of nearly 10.000 began their slow march towards Venice where the Illyrian forces had driven out the Etruscans who occupied the city. With the popular Chariovalda of Illyria commanding the troops he had won the hearts of the people and again controlled the city and the surrounding forts. In truth it was the now elderly and quite fat captain Lazzero barbolini who the people had proclaimed the protector of Venice who urged them to throw out the Etruscans by helping the Illyrian army. The city gates were opened and chains to the city port lowered. Many inhabitants in the Venice region looked to him as their hero and saviour rather than any other king or lord, for he was a commoner with a rank and sense of duty.

MAP

Prelude I, Prelude II, Prelude III Prelude IV, Prelude V

Part I, Part II, Part II.V, Part III