By the third turn of the moon since the fall of Oizen, the new dominions of Yarzat were declared cleansed of bandits, and a hard-won measure of peace returned to the river roads.
With barely a sennight remaining before the Archons placed the consecrated gold upon Alpheo's brow, the returning cohorts, the Primogenia, the Aracinea, the Hounds, and the Arditi, finally trod the flagstones of home.
Of all the men they had to mantain the peace, only half the Blue Cloaks remained behind in Oizen, schooling a freshly raised local watch to keep the conquered city from sliding back into the gutter.
And so, after months of blood, mud, and bitter manhunts, the legions marched back through the high gates of Yarzat to a hero's roar.
They advanced through streets bursting with an ocean of common folk dressed in every dye the weavers could muster and the people could afford. Though the celebrations were less animated than they usually were at war's end.
