Free Black Legion: 04 - Last Stand by Michael G. Thomas

at the far end of the hall. He was lighter built than the majority of the warriors but still fit and athletic. Although he waited in the front row facing the altar, he still found it difficult to make out the facial expressions of those speaking.
    “Which one is this?” whispered Tamara.
    He looked over to her, doing his best not to move his body and draw attention from the senior commander. She was the youngest of his companions, no more than a teenager, yet her face had hardened with bitterness over the duration of their campaign deep inside the Median Empire.
    “It’s Chirisophus, the Laconian Komes. The other Terrans know him as a Dukas. It’s all a little confusing.”
    Tamara frowned. “Dukas, how?”
    Xenophon smiled at her complete lack of understanding of the politics and hierarchy of the assembled Terrans. The Dukas was the senior position in each of the Terran contingents, and there was never more than one. Between them they would come together to choose one as the Strategos, the supreme commander.
    “The Laconians consider a Komes the equivalent of a Dukas with the other factions, and with Clearchus dead, he’s been pushed up as being his successor.”
    He waited patiently and looked at the interior with great fascination. He’d been here several times before, but as part of Lady Artemas’ personal guard was granted more substantial access to the place. There were thick columns running around its flanks, and the walls were rough, as if cut from rock itself rather than the flat, machinelike surfaces on board the other Titans. The artworks on the walls showed the battles of the Terrans, with priority given to the Laconians. The bright colours of the art contrasted with the grim and sombre effect given off by the great hall. This was the heart of Valediction and now both a place of pride and mourning at the loss of the Laconian’s leader Clearchus.
    “He’s nearly done,” Xenophon whispered.
    He looked about for the reason he was officially there. He and Tamara were inside the great hall while Glaucon and Roxana escorted their charge. Experience had shown him it was always advisable to have one or two people waiting at the destination, just in case anything untoward occurred.
    This is a Titan, after all. Stranger things have happened!
    Xenophon’s timing was almost perfect, and the man was indeed coming to the final stages of his speech and the long list of casualties. Men muttered and complained as names of those they had known were recalled, but it was when they reached the most significant losses that the agony and pain in the Laconian ranks became clear.
    “My brothers,” he started, “it is with a heavy heart that I remind you of the loss of our great leader and warrior, Strategos Clearchus.”
    He looked out at the great company of warriors and nodded his head slowly as though agreeing with them. Xenophon could see the genuine sadness on the man’s face, but the speech appeared contrived, confirming to him once more that Chirisophus was no orator. All that remained was to see how the other leaders would see him following the deaths of so many. Technically, the warriors of the Legion would choose their own leaders and then vote for a single Dukas to bear the responsibility of Strategos, the commanding general of the Legion.
    “He died along with all our senior commanders in the great betrayal of Tissaphernes and his Medes bastards!”
    The murmur turned very quickly into one of anger and reprisal. So many of the Terrans wanted revenge, especially the Laconians who had suffered heavy casualties during the final stages of the battle and evacuation. To leave the field of battle was against every ideal they held, and yet the order apparently came directly from Clearchus’ lips as he died.
    “We must elect new officers for the units that have lost so many brothers. Clearchus, Kleandridas, Proxenus, Sophaenetus, Kratez and so many more were murdered and must be replaced, quickly. As is our