Travis Starnes
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The Wings of Mercury - Chapter 15
🕑 Added 2024-08-19 13:04:54 +0000 UTCDevnum
“Do you have a minute?” Lucilla asked, standing in the doorway of Ramirus’s small, cluttered office.
“Empress!” Ramirus said, standing up quickly, knocking several papers to the ground.
She should have warned him she was coming, to keep from giving him a shock. Even though his office was situated very close to her own private study, so that he was on hand in case she needed him, she could count on one hand the number of times she’d visited him here, instead of his visiting her. And all of those times had been before she’d become empress.
For this, though, she wanted to be the one to come to him, since she was planning on asking him for something she knew he would not want to give.
“I was reading over your reports from Anatolia,” she said as prelude.
“Yes. Unfortunate their colonies fell so quickly. I know I predicted this outcome, what with how little support their city-states have to give them militarily, but I’d hoped they would last a little longer. The easterners’ southern army should be across the Dardanelles and marching into Greece proper by week’s end. I do not hold out a lot of hope for the actual city-states themselves to hold out against the enemy when they reach them either. Even opening up selling simple cannon to them, they won’t be able to survive the attack.”
“I know, and it worries me. I know you said you think they will march into Italia in an effort to cut us off from the middle sea, but I think their plan is to turn north once they break through Greece and attack Ky’s forces from behind, putting him in a vice between their two forces and isolating him. Should they do that, we will be finished.”
“Possibly, although if they get close, the Consul could always retreat and prepare to face the combined armies head on, at least to keep from being surrounded.”
“Which is almost as bad.”
“We should, hopefully, have the Italians with us by then. They won’t be able to go through much training, but they did not give up a lot of manpower during the war, at least not compared to Hispania and Germania, and their leaders have indicated a high interest among their population in joining the fight. If the enemy gets through Greece and puts Italia under threat, they will be even more likely to sign up. I think we might be able to assemble a large enough force to counter them out of Italia alone, although it will strip the country dangerously bare and be the only large mobilization we’ll be able to manage from there.”
“But like you said, that takes time, which is why what we really need is to get the Greeks themselves to cooperate, instead of offering themselves up as victims to the easterners. We need them to hold the line to give the Italians time to mobilize and train properly.”
“Even with advisors and our arms, I’m not sure they will be able to hold out against the eastern armies alone. Unless they get over their infighting and work together, one city-state, no matter how well armed, is not going to stand up to a fully rifle-armed army.”
“I know, but I don’t see what other choice we have. Besides, there’s also the worse possibility that some of the city-states see themselves with a better chance of survival by joining the easterners instead of fighting them, giving the easterners a secure base to fight from.”
“A distinct possibility, and one I’m not even sure our presence will be able to prevent. But I think you’re correct, and there are very few options left open to us. It’s worth a try.”
“I’m very glad you think so because I want you to lead the mission to Greece,” Lucilla said.
She kept her tone even and confident, but inside she was nervous. She knew what the response to this request was going to be, and she did relish it.
To say he was surprised was an understatement.
“Your majesty, I... I can’t. I’m too old for this. My place is here, advising you, not traipsing across Greece.”
“And there’s nowhere I would rather you be, if I had a choice. Unfortunately, I do not. You yourself just said how fraught this mission was going to be, how difficult it would be to convince any of the city-states to not only join our cause in defense, but work with the neighbors they’ve spent generations hating. It will take someone with experience and a deft hand to even give us a slight hand, and every person we have experienced in this kind of high-level diplomacy is already in the field. You are quite literally the only person left in my government who fits those qualifications.”
“I appreciate your assessment of my abilities, Empress, but even if I wanted to go, I’m not in the physical condition for such a journey. You know that.”
“I know it will be difficult. Llassar said much the same thing to me when I asked him to handle Sardinia. But, like with him, I need you, Ramirus. This is not only critical to the fate of the alliance, but to our very empire. But, I also would not expect you to do this alone. I am going to send Gaius with you as an aide. Besides being trained by Faenius, he’s young, strong, and eager to learn. He’ll handle much of the physical work, leaving you with only the negotiation. He will make the task bearable for you while having a chance to gain experience in diplomacy. The fact that we have run out of anyone with experience in this type of negotiation makes it clear we have not put enough emphasis on this. We are no longer a small empire on a small island. The number of independent political bodies grows yearly, and we need to have relations to do that, which means training our next batch of new diplomats. I can’t think of anyone I’d rather teach these young men than you.”
“What about if they agree. I’ll agree Gaius is a good lad, but he is not a military man. They will need to immediately begin training in our tactics and they will have almost no time to complete it. If we had Llassar or even Cormac, or if one of the legates was not in the field and able to handle that end of the burden, it might give us a chance. Neither I nor Gaius, however, have the training to teach the Greeks what they need to know.”
“I’m aware, which is why I was planning on sending Modius with you. He’s been working closely with the legions, learning the new tactics we’ve been developing to deal with these easterners when protecting... well, me. But his starting point was our current tactics, since it seems the easterners have adapted our own strategies, was learning everything about how our legions fight. While not ideal, he’s been in service for decades and is our best option, with all of our legates in the field. He’ll also lead the security detachment of praetorians we send with you, although Gaius is able to do that as well. With the two of them, however, you should be able to delegate those tasks you do not feel prepared for and focus on those you do.”
“Have you told Modius of his new assignment?” Ramirus asked skeptically.
“Not yet, but leave him to me. He won’t be happy, but he’ll understand the reason. Besides, it’s not like I leave the palace complex very much these days anyway, where I have dozens of guards at any one time.”
Ramirus made a non-committal noise, clearly not believing what the empress was selling.
“Please say yes,” she said, using the voice she used as a young girl, trying to convince him to back whatever argument she wanted to make to her father. “I need your help.”
Ramirus sighed heavily. “You know there’s nothing I could deny you. Yes. Fine. I’ll go.”
“Thank you, old friend,” she said, taking his hand in hers.
He patted her hand gently. She tried to hide the sadness the moment caused her. She knew this was necessary, for the war and the future of the empire, but she had yet to acknowledge, even to herself, how difficult it was going to be without her old friend.
***
“Good morning, my friend,” Hortensius said, walking into the small dockside building Lucan used as his office.
It was very different than how both Hortensius himself and Sorantius kept their own working spaces, which they’d all but overfilled with remnants of every project they had, were currently working on, and even ones that were just ideas. Lucan, by contrast, had no paperwork or anything else that would indicate there was any project currently in the works aside from the dozen caravels currently under construction and the rectangular box floating in the harbor.
That box, however, was the reason Hortensius was here. It might have seemed innocuous and even strange to uninformed observers, but it was the test platform for the new ship-based boiler and high-pressure conduit system that would be the center of the new river boats. Essentially the size of the boiler on a train, but with limitations the train didn’t have, the biggest of which was protecting the boiler.
Boilers were susceptible to exploding when punctuated and these ships were being designed to go into combat, where they would be shot at by rifle and cannon. Something trains, in general, were not built to handle and so had no serious protection against. The biggest problems they’d faced, so far, were how far they had to go in protecting the boiler, weight for the ship as far as armor went, since every stone meant the vessel was a deeper draft, and dealing with exhaust on the boiler, which would be a natural weak point for any protection they set up.
“I’m glad you’re here,” Lucal said, frustration clear on his face as he looked at the diagrams nailed up on the wall of the office. “We’re still having problems with pressure drops and the build-up of pressure in the boiler. It’s not catastrophic, but it could become a real problem once we start working on the ancillary systems.”
“Hmm,” Hortensius said, stroking his beard as he joined the shipbuilder, looking over the schematics. “Have you identified the cause?”
“No, and it’s frustrating me. Your assistants have been looking over the boiler, and they assure me everything is working as intended, but after just a few hand spans, the pipes start to lose pressure. Anything over half the length of the boat and there won’t be enough to do anything. Which is why I feel it’s definitely in the boiler itself.”
“I see. It does sound like it, but my guys have been working with the boilers for a while, and know them pretty well, even if they’re scaled down. If they say it’s not the boiler, then there’s a good chance it’s not. If it’s losing pressure that short, it could be the connection points or something with the piping. We’ll have to investigate it. Has it caused any kind of buildup in the boiler itself?”
“I don’t think so, at least not that your people have told me. I’ll be honest, I’m struggling to keep up with all of these new changes. Give me sail and timber any day.”
“I understand, but we have to move with the times. I felt much the same when the Consul came to me eight years ago to tell me the way I had always done my businesses was wrong, and there were better ways. You managed to accept the idea of large, sail-driven ships when everyone else was stuck believing that the only way to fight on the sea was on a galley with oarsmen. This is the same time of change. Just give yourself time.”
Lucan shrugged, but Hortensius could tell it helped. These were challenging times and the manufacturer knew sometimes they just needed a little reminder of everything they’d already accomplished.
Hortensius was about to change the subject, to talk about the protected crankshaft, which is what he really wanted to talk about. He was concerned about its housing, specifically. It was longer than anything at either the factories or for any train design, which would have been a challenge all on its own, but the fact that the ship would be under fire made it even more complicated. Already, the steam engine was in the center of the ship and below the water line to protect it from incoming fire, which put the crankshaft along the bottom keel, which gave ways of concern for, if the ship ever ran aground, it could bend or damage the shaft, and cut power to the engine entirely.
He, however, never got to ask his question.
“Master Lucan, there’s an odd vibration coming from the test platform, I thought … Ohh, Master Hortensius, I didn’t know you were here,” one of his assistants said, coming into the office.
“How bad is it?” Hortensius asked.
“Not terrible, but it seems to be oscillating, which is unusual. We wanted to cut the boiler, but we’re in the middle of an extended duration test, and would have to start the test over, so we wanted to check first.”
If the vibrations weren’t too terribly bad, it was a reasonable decision. They ran every boiler through a long high-pressure test, keeping the fires stoked and the pressure up for at least twelve hours to ensure the tank did any cracks or faults.
Vibrations were somewhat normal in any operating tank, but this was one of his more experienced men, so if he said the vibrations felt wrong, he was usually right.
“Then we’d better …”
Hortensius never got to finish that sentence, as they were drowned out by an earth-shattering boom that shook the pier and Lucan’s small office.
All three men sprinted outside, and then froze at the sight. The rectangular box had a massive hole in its center and was already starting to list to the side and debris were still raining down from where they’d been thrown into the air. And there were almost a dozen men in the water, some flailing about and others floating completely still.
“Run to the hospital. Tell them we need every healer they can spare. Now!”
Hortensius ordered his assistant, who gave one last look to the remains of the test platform before running before taking off.
“Let’s get these men out of the water!” He began yelling at the stunned workers. “Move. We don’t have time.”
This was a disaster, but he would worry about that later. For now, there were people to save.
***
Carthage
“… another riot in the western market. Injuries were kept to a minimum, but five were arrested,” Claudius said, standing in the small room designated as Cormac’s working office.
Technically hers too, Medb thought, but appearances must be maintained and he was now in charge of the province until the empress appointed a new governor. She was just his wife.
“Do what you can to keep the damage and loss of life under control, tribune, but prepare your men for larger operations very soon,” Cormac said.
“Yes, Governor,” Claudius said, bowing before leaving the office.
“I would have thought the people would have calmed down now that the tax collectors have been stripped of their power and Eoghan arrested,” Cormac said, frustrated.
“If left on their own, I suspect they would be, but I don’t think this happened on its own. It’s telling that the market where this happened is close to the richest part of town where Eoghan’s supporters lived. The people there were less affected by his tax collectors than poorer areas of the city, which have, in fact, calmed down since his arrest.”
“You think they are pushing people to riot in retaliation for his firing? For what purpose?”
“I do. It’s not in the books, but reading between the lines it seems clear they were getting their money’s worth from him, or at least thought they were, and aren’t happy to see him gone. As to why? The easiest answer is for some kind of revenge, but people like this, money is normally at the root, so I suspect they hope if unrest continues, or worsens, you will be recalled and someone new will be put in that they can try and corrupt like they did Eoghan.”
“You don’t think whoever the outside player your spy has mentioned is behind it?”
“Possibly, but none of the unrest so far has been in the sections closest to the wealthy areas of town. They’ve all been in the poorer areas. They have also either exploited existing tensions or the unrest has come with a message about returning the previous regime. You heard Claudius’s report. There have been attacks, but they seem almost unmotivated. People are demanding anything, they aren’t putting up propaganda, or anything else that would indicate a motive. They’re just attacking guards and causing destruction. It is unrest for the sake of unrest. It feels different to me.”
“You are more of an expert in these things than I am. All I know is, it’s working. We’re not going to be able to keep reacting passively, responding to the unrest. Especially if it isn’t tied to anything specific and is being pushed by elements not even playing off of specific anger or resentment. We’re going to have to be more proactive.”
“What exactly are you thinking when you say more proactive?” Medb asked, suspicious she already knew the answer.
“Martial law, most likely. We’ve tried increased patrols, checkpoints, random stops, none of them are working. This city is just too big and there aren’t enough praetorians to keep it tightly controlled while letting the city operate as normal.”
“You know that’s a risk, right? It will give ammunition to the people riling up the populace, something to point to and say ‘see what the Britannians are’.”
“I know, but I’m not sure what choice I have. We can try and work with people, maybe set up some way for the locals to voice their opinions, but until we weed out the bad elements, we’re going to keep losing ground.”
“If you’re dead set …”
A sharp knock on the door stopped her from completing that sentence.
“Come,” Cormac commanded.
A messenger hurried in. Medb thought she might recognize him as one of the men who carried messages from the docks.
“A message from Kalb, governor, just arrived on one of the imperial message boats.”
“Thank you,” Cormac said, taking the note and dismissing the man.
That actually didn’t tell them much. Since Kalb was the closest point to North Africa, most telegraph traffic bound for North Africa went to it and then by messenger boat to Carthage. Which meant the message could be from anywhere on the continent or sent by another messenger boat from Britannia to Gaul before being retransmitted down to Kalb.
It made Medb smile slightly to think how inefficient that system was, considering it wasn’t that many years ago it would take a day for a message to reach the borders of her small kingdom, and another day to get a reply. How quickly they adapted.
As she’d suspected, this one was from Britannia. The contents, however, were a complete shock.
“The Empress is requesting your presence in Sardinia to assist Llassar,” Cormac said, handing the message over. “He’s reported an outside group is interfering with unification, keeping the Sardinians from joining the rest of Italia in unification. She wants you to uncover whoever’s behind it and remove the problem.”
Medb read it quickly. Then reread it.
“It’s interesting timing,” he said. “Could these be the same people causing problems here?”
“You know I’m not going to make a guess like that without being properly informed, Cormac. I won’t know anything until I get there and see the situation for myself.”
“But it’s possible, isn’t it?”
“Possible? Of course. The timing, at least, makes it worth considering, but coincidences happen and there are a lot of forces in play at the moment, so it doesn’t do to jump to conclusions. Gathering intel with preconceived notions just confirms what you’re looking for instead of telling you what’s really happening.”
“We’ve been sending back reports. Doesn’t the Empress know how precarious things are right now?”
“She almost certainly does, but she also knows we’re on top of things here and she has faith in you to handle the situation. You weren’t sent here as an excuse to bring me along. You showed at the end of the war that you’re capable of dealing with these situations on your own.”
“I had Llassa with me that time,” he pointed out.
“That was also five years ago. You’ve grown significantly since then. You already have a plan. I’ll be back as soon as things are sorted there, until then you and Claudius can sort things here. He’s a good man. Use him. He can run our informant for the time being, and if something notable is uncovered, you can call me back. Although don’t …”
“Talk about your informants by messenger. Yes, I know,” Cormac said.
Even if she hadn’t gone over her rules of running an informant when Geral was recruited, she made a point to turn every moment into teaching moments for him. Even in their personal moments. Some people talked about the fates and their futures as pillow talk, others about their fears and aspirations. Medb talked about leadership and complained about incompetence.
She knew he found it endearing, and maybe she would have done it naturally, but she’d also been slowly preparing him into the leader he needed to be someday. Cormac was smarter and more diligent than any man she’d known, but even he needed some direction.
She turned to leave, but Cormac’s hand shot out, catching her wrist. In one swift motion, he pulled her down into his lap, eliciting a small noise of surprise from her, before she smiled at him. She liked this side of him, when he took control. He was also smart enough to only do it at the times she approved of, and not when it would be inconvenient.
“I’ll miss you,” he said into her hair as he pulled her into an embrace.
She leaned into him, relaxing as she felt his strong arms tighten around her. Tilting her head up, she captured his lips in a passionate kiss, allowing herself a moment of vulnerability.
“Keep your wits about you,” she said softly as she pulled away. “You’re still sitting on one of Hortensius’s powder kegs.”
“You too,” he said.
