The Sword of Jupiter
Author: Travis Starnes
Date: 2021-10-21T18:00:00+00:00
Description: An Uncertain Future in a New Past During the test flight of a prototype faster-than-light craft, Lt. Commander Ky is flung into an ancient past that never existed. Rome has fallen, defeated by the mighty Carthaginian Empire, its survivors chased off the continent and onto what had been the remote province of Britannia. Hounded by the Carthaginians bent on conquering the known world, Rome is on the verge of destruction. Stranded and alone, except for a tactical AI implanted in his head, Ky has lost everything and must find a way to live in a world different than anything he's ever known. For Ky
Publisher: Renegade Publishing

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Epilogue

Chapter 1

“It is time, Commander.”

The voice echoed in Ky’s mind, pulling him out of the void of sleep in a rush. His eyes opened as rows of lights sprang to life, one after another, across the bay. Each new section of light dispelled a patch of the inky blackness that made up the sleep cycle, revealing row after row of beds.

Pulling himself up, Ky swung his legs over the side of his bunk and slid his feet into slippers. Looking to either side, Ky could see the rest of his batch working through the same process in ragged succession.

Ky stood and walked between the rows towards the lavatory to complete his daily routine, mentally preparing himself for the mission ahead. As he passed each bunk, the occupant would busy themselves or simply glance away, refusing to make eye contact.

Their detachment was not a sign that Ky was particularly disliked. He'd spent his entire life with this same group of people, training for the tasks they’d been bred for. Humanity had changed much in the last several millennia, but the values of friendship and camaraderie still held strong.

On any other day, he would stop by this or that bunk to have a brief word or tell a story, or someone would stop by his bunk for the same.

However, this morning was not any other day.

Ky had been selected almost a year ago to pilot the second prototype faster-than-light ship. The selection was not an honor or a coveted spot among the candidates though. The first test had ended in disaster as the ship consumed itself in a massive fireball while attempting to open a wormhole that would take it across the void of space to Alpha Centauri.

Ky had not been picked because he was the best or the brightest of his batch. He had been picked because he was adequate. Knowing the probable outcome of the test, command - in their infinite wisdom - did not want to waste their best pilots on a mission that had been given a twenty percent chance of survival. The type of pilot needed for this stage had been described to command by the lead scientists was ‘acceptable but not irreplaceable.’

That did not mean that Ky was sub-standard. Being average among the Empire’s most elite genetic batch still put Ky close to the pinnacle of what humanity had achieved.

Comparisons are rarely objective, especially by the person making them. Ky knew his place among his peer group and had accepted it a long time ago. As humans continued to increase their life spans the ability to accept things as they were and exhibit patience for what was to come had followed. Ky had known his rating among his peers for eighty years, and he would have to live with that same knowledge for almost a hundred more. Assuming he survived today’s mission.

The lavatory remained empty the entire time Ky was inside. The rows of shower stalls he had once shared with his batchmates were silent except for his. Ky did not blame them for keeping their distance. He had done the same when Jax had been selected. Ky had not kept his distance because he thought less of Jax, but more out of fear. Fear of becoming closer and then losing a friend. Fear of a taint that might bring the next test to him. Ky guessed his friends had similar reasons now.

‘Well,’ Ky thought as the shower in the stall next to him sprang to life, ‘all of my friends save one.’

Turning, Ky saw Sara stepping into the shower stall. She turned and leaned back, letting the water roll off her toned body and smoothing her hair into a flat sheet against her back. Wiping the water off her face, she leaned against the short wall that separated them and smiled at him. Almond eyes crinkling as she looked at him, her golden skin glistening with beaded water.

He considered her for a moment. Physically they looked much the same. Centuries of intermingling among Earth’s cultures had virtually eliminated those features humanity once used to separate itself. Skin now came in somewhat lighter and somewhat darker shades of bronze. Eyes now had a near-uniform almond shape with a thin double-fold eyelid and hair came in various colors of black and dark brown.

There were occasional instances of a gene from the far past resurfacing, passing the person oval eyes, or blond hair, or dark skin. But it was rare, and these people were often seen as being lucky. Blessed by a quirk of genetics to stand out from their fellows.

The rest of humanity had melded into a more homogeneous whole.

“Nervous?” she said, her voice a gentle contralto.

“Some.”

“Lonely?”

Ky just looked at her with an attempted air of indifference, not wanting his weakness to show through. Sara’s brow wrinkled and her mouth became a tight smile as she saw through his forced nonchalance. He had never been able to hide his feelings from Sara.

“Don’t blame them Ky. They want to be here with you, wishing you well. They’re just afraid.”

“I know. I did the same with Jax. It doesn’t make it hurt less though.”

“You aren’t alone,” she said, reaching out and putting a hand on his shoulder.

Ky patted the hand, gave her a wan smile, and returned to his shower. They finished at roughly the same time, toweling off and heading to the lockers. She left Ky to his thoughts, just being present to support him and available should he need a friend.

As he dressed, Ky let his thoughts drift to the test and what he would do afterward if he survived. While he pondered what lay ahead, Ky pulled out the gold flight suit. The hexagonal pattern across its surface contained the impact shielding, power collection, and various sensors needed for flying modern spacecraft.

“Flight suit protocols initiated,” the AI said as the final wrist connectors snapped shut, activating the suit. Ky watched the confirmation data scroll across his vision as his AI completed the steps to gain full control of the suit’s systems.

Across from him, Sara had finished pulling on the soft, white jumpsuit that was his batch’s off-mission uniform. The soft fabric was made for comfort, missing the connections for life support and safety features.

“I have my pre-flight med-check,” Ky said to Sara as he stood.

“Meet me at observation before you launch?” she replied, pulling on a boot.

He nodded, heading out of the lavatory towards the station’s medical facilities. He could not avoid the pang of sadness he felt as he saw his batchmates headed to finish their morning routine now that he was clear of the area.

Ky shook off the momentary depression. He stepped through the hatch, turning down the gleaming white hallway towards the station’s medical section.

The medical bay was one of the larger sections of the space station, barely smaller than the hangar itself. Designed to handle a hundred patients at once and capable of full-scale surgeries, the bay had been originally designed during the last separatist war a hundred and fifty years before and was one of the legacies that carried over from a more martial mindset of the past. The more recently constructed stations, such as the one currently orbiting Io servicing the various mining outcroppings across Jupiter’s moons, had much smaller and more reasonably sized med-bays.

Ky found it unlikely any current station needed the ability to handle a dozen simultaneous surgeries. Living in space was still more dangerous than planet-side habitation. Accidents happened, but there were rarely more than a handful of patients at any given time. The Bureau of Personnel never stationed enough staff to run the medical section at full capacity anymore.

A med-tech checked Ky’s orders, which was probably unnecessary considering the amount of gossip traveling across the station about today’s launch. He assigned him to one of the small diagnostic rooms lining one wall of the bay.

As with his batchmates, the med-tech did not speak to Ky and avoided eye contact as he placed two small, circular devices on either side of Ky’s head. The tech then tapped something into the control panel near the wall, causing the devices to emit a single low tone.

“Diagnostics mode accepted,” the AI intoned after a moment.

The sound of the AI was not so much in his mind, as echoing inside his skull, an effect of the implants in his skull. The acoustics would reverberate, limiting the sound to the implantee. He was not sure how the implants worked, but it sounded different than both how he heard his own thinking and how he heard things from the world around him.

The data that continually hovered in the periphery of Ky’s vision disappeared as the screen on one wall of the small room lit up with a wide array of information and diagrams. Checking to make sure the connection was secure and looking over the screen once more the tech left the room, leaving Ky to his own thoughts.

Ky waited for several minutes, looking at a map of his body made up of pinpoint dots, each representing one of the nanobots that littered his system when the door opened again, and an older man walked in.

“Commander,” he said by way of greeting.

Ky did not reply, waiting while the doctor punched some controls and watched as the data display switched, scrolling information that Ky didn’t really understand.

“How’ve you been feeling?” he asked without looking Ky’s direction.

“I’m fine, Sir.”

“Good. Everything looks to be right in the zone, although I guess if it wasn’t, we’d probably have figured that out by this point, eh?”

Ky just nodded.

“How’s the stress?”

“Manageable, Sir.”

“I know it’s tough for you guys,” he said, turning to face Ky, a look of compassion on his face, “Especially in these early runs. Trust me, everything you’re feeling is normal. Lt. Commander Jax had a similar expression right before his flight.”

Ky let out a snort.

“Well, yes. But I think we can both agree that what happened with his test flight was almost certainly not caused by something he did. The panel cleared human error as the fault of that … event.”

“That does not fill me with confidence, Doctor.”

“I imagine not. Just do your duty, Commander. That’s all you can do.”

“I will.”

“Ky,” he said, looking at the data on the screen again, his voice returning to its professional demeanor, “when you get back, we are going to have to reset your AI. It’s already a month and a half beyond its operating window and the logs show it made two independent decisions on your last prep-flight.”

“They were the right decisions,” Ky said, somewhat defensively.

“I’m sure. The Mark Fourteens are the most advanced Tactical Interface and Guidance systems to come out of Research Command. Operating outside of the host’s decision cycle, however, is one of the early indicators of progression towards sentience. I know they briefed you folk on the dangers of AI integration when you were first implanted, but trust me when I say, you do not want to know what happened to the early users whose AIs went sentient. I’ve seen the archival recordings, and it was … terrifying.”

“The waiting is almost the worst part. I sort of wish you could just reset it now?”

“Can’t. It’s already loaded and calibrated with the ship’s systems. Wiping it would force the techs to start over on this test run from scratch. It’s why we’ve let it run over its operating parameters already. Although I told them if they had one more overrun, I was going to say to hell with it and force them to start over. I may not be able to control what happens once you’re in that cockpit, but I’ll be damned if I’ll let them take unnecessary risks with my pilots.”

Ky smiled. He’d always liked Captain Pei. He’d transferred to Earth Station five years previously and had the respect of every pilot and trooper assigned to the station. Not just because he was likable as a person, which he was, but because every man and woman aboard knew the weathered doctor looked out for them.

“It’s moot now I guess since it seems like the test is happening today, no matter what. I want you back here as soon as you finish your debrief. Once this phase is done, you’ll go back in the pilot queue, and we’ll have the time to reset your AI and do rehab.”

Ky frowned at the thought. Every pilot aboard had to have one of the advanced AIs installed to be fighter qualified. Fighter combat in space, or even just basic fighter operations, required reflexes that outstripped even those of pilots who’d received full nano-enhancement. An AI was required to handle the mass of calculations that were needed in an instant, and pilots trained for almost a decade to be able to integrate with one of the AIs. To people whose life spans had reached almost two-hundred years, a decade was not a lot, but it was still a grueling process.

Even after a pilot had finally worked up to be AI rated, they would have to have them wiped every twelve months, to prevent the exact thing for which the Doctor was hinting. While the wiping and installing a fresh AI only took a few hours, the pilot would then have to go through almost two months of retraining to adapt to the AI. Every pilot dreaded the cycle.

Living with another personality, even one as hobbled as a freshly installed AI, was trying on the human psyche. Just as a pilot got accustomed to the one in their head, the AI had to be reset, and they got a new one. While, theoretically, the AIs were identical pieces of software and should have been uniform, at least when they were first installed, Ky had never found that true. Each one had their own near-personalities and foibles that had to be adjusted to.

The first few hours after the AI was reset, the pilot became almost an infant again. The physical actions needed just to walk were difficult as the new AI came online and learned the host’s movements.

The pilot had gotten used to the automatic reactions of the previous AI’s predictive directions, moving through indicated guide paths before conscious thought could be applied. When the pilot was locked into the AI, they could move before their brain actually registered the need to move. Coupled with the nanobots that increased their strength and reflexes, which were also integrated to the AI, the pilot could actually dodge fast-moving debris, although not so fast enough to dodge energy discharges or propellant driven projectiles.

Before the pilot was locked in, just getting a spoon into their mouths without smashing it into their face was difficult. For the non-augmented technicians and troopers who manned the station, watching newly recycled pilots as they tried to do the simplest task was a prime form of entertainment. Although considering the pecking order of the station, they usually refrained from making comments to the struggling pilots. The pilots, who shared the enjoyment of watching others being recycled, generally chose to ignore the smiles and stares while they fought with the computer in their head. It was a truce that had existed for as long as Ky’s batch had passed the indoctrination and training cycles.

“Well,” the doctor said, pulling the two small devices off Ky’s head, “You are cleared. I’ll send a note to Admiral Al-Wahi that the test can proceed.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” Ky said, hopping off the hard seat and reaching for the door to the small diagnostics cubicle.

“Ky,” the doctor said.

Ky paused partway through the door, turning to look back, “Yes, Doctor?”

“Good luck, Son. I expect to see you back here this evening.”

“I’ll try my best, Doctor.”

Ky turned and left the kindly physician and surreptitiously staring med-tech behind. He headed for observation.

Sara was there ahead of him, waiting in front of the long wall of windows, her hands clasped behind her back, looking out over the launch bay and beyond to the blue globe spinning far below them. Ky stepped next to her, unconsciously assuming the same stance.

Outside the window sat a strange ship, different from those flying patrols outside circling the station or docked in the hanger bay. The front was a similar pointed, sleek frame topped by a bubble canopy with wings sweeping back into the larger and wider engine housing in a near trapezoidal shape, if you did not include the protruding cockpit.

What made this ship look so different were the missing weapon mounts on the wings, and the large, hollow circle, like a thin doughnut. It engulfed the back of the ship’s engine and was connected to the body of the test platform with wide, metal brackets.

“How’d it go?” she asked, not looking away from the preparations happening outside the window.

“Fine. He says I need a reset after the trial run.”

“Ugh,” she groaned, “I hate resets. I swear, last time I was close to telling them to just pull the implant entirely.”

“Ha. You wouldn’t give up piloting.”

“Maybe not, but it still sucks.”

“Sure. Although let’s be honest, I probably won’t have to worry about that.”

“Ky,” she said warningly.

“I’m not being pessimistic Sara. You know the odds. I’m not panicking. I’m not scared … well, not terrified at least. This is what we’ve trained for. Everyone knows how important FTL flight is and I’m ready to do my part.”

She did not say anything, but also did not look back out the window.

“You know I’ll never be as good as you or Dek,” he said, watching the work party crawl over the small craft floating outside. “I won’t be chosen for the anti-piracy squadrons or any interdiction missions if those happen. Hell, I won’t even get to do any of the exhibitions. After the Io revolt, I don’t think we’ll have a chance to see any more real action anyways, at least not in our lifetime. So, this is really my only chance to do something, you know?”

“Still,” she said, “I wish you wouldn’t talk like that.”

He noted she had not disagreed with his assessment, which was not surprising. Sara had never been one to gloss over the truth.

“Okay,” he said, giving in.

They stood there for twenty minutes, chatting about unimportant things, Sara purposefully not bringing the conversation back to his test flight. They talked about their early days of training, about funny things that had happened to them or one of their friends, and just reminisced about the decades they had served together.

An indicator flashed across Ky’s vision as the AI signaled that it was nearing time for the test to begin. Sara must have set her AI to give a similar signal since her expression changed at almost the same instant.

“I have to go.”

“I know.”

He started to walk away from her, towards the lift that would take him to the hanger, and stopped, turning back to his friend, who had returned to looking out the windows.

“You know I had hoped once we both decommissioned, they’d pair us.”

“That would have been nice,” she said, smiling at him.

Of course, they both knew that was unlikely. Personnel carefully matched genetic partners when assigning breeding pairs and Ky was not on Sara’s level. There were a dozen others from their batch that would have been paired with her before Ky. She probably had not even considered who she would be paired with before he brought it up. That was not something people thought much about, let alone discussed. The rare times when someone did, they were singled out as being a possible problem. The expected thing to do was to just wait until you were retired from active duty and then see who you were placed with.

Ky knew saying that would have been considered strange at best and could possibly even mean being removed from active duty pending a full medical and psych exam if someone knew he had thought about it. Considering the likely outcome of the test flight, he’d decided it wouldn’t matter in a few hours. Besides, if he did somehow make it through the test, Sara was unlikely to say anything to anyone.

Ky ventured one last glance at his friend, who had returned to looking out the window. He turned and headed towards his ship.

Ky was shuttled out to the small test ship in a special craft designed to deliver pilots into fighters outside of carriers or stations. The large bridge drive on the back of the test ship made it impossible to dock at the station normally, at least not without a major redesign of the docking bay. They had held the design of the cockpit as close to the existing ships as possible to make the external docking process a workable option.

The transfer was something they had trained for and it was handled with no problems. Once the AI had connected with the on-board systems, he powered up the smaller in-system engines and pointed the craft to a point roughly halfway between the asteroid belt and Jupiter. They were still near to the point where the belt and Jupiter were closest to each other, putting the halfway point just over four hundred and twenty million kilometers away. The fastest ships in the fleet could have made that journey in just over fifty minutes traveling at close to three quarters the speed of light, but Ky’s test ship did not have those speeds and would have needed twice as much time to reach the test area.

Sadly, even that speed was not possible considering Ky had to travel with a small fleet of support ships. They would keep their distance once the test began, sitting almost five million kilometers away from Ky in case there was another mishap. Even with such a large expanse of open space between them, they were still a lot closer than anything from Earth station if something went wrong. Still, that fleet included a large repair ship that was capable of just forty percent the speed of light, making the journey last more than two hours.

Ky spent the time having his AI go over all the ship’s systems again and running the various simulations with him over and over, trying to account for as many variables as possible.

The science was so far beyond him that he did not understand even the beginnings of the theory behind how the engine worked. The basics had been explained to him. What was expected to happen first was the Antonov Field Generator, named after the man who pioneered the science behind it, would create an energy field of some type that would then open up a wormhole, which would then connect to another point of space. The person who gave the briefing had tried to explain that it wasn’t an actual wormhole since the bridge connected two points around space-time rather than across it, but that seemed to Ky like a distinction without a practical difference.

Once the bridge between the two points in space opened up, his ship should cross through the opening created on his end and then instantaneously exit at the other point, ending up light-years away in the blink of an eye. They had tested smaller versions of the bridge and been able to send small items across small distances. They had also been able to open a bridge to the desired point in Alpha Centauri, sending unmanned probes through the bridge.

The point of throwing humans, and larger sized objects, across the bridge was where they run into problems. Any probe they sent through would take almost a hundred years to send a signal back to them, a time frame the powers-that-be had decided was too long to wait. They also couldn’t get the probes to come back through the bridge.

Every test had shown that the technique they had found to open a bridge was uni-directional, meaning any ship they sent through would have to be able to generate another bridge to return. The systems needed for operating a bridge generator were beyond the abilities of automatic controls and they had never successfully gotten an AI to function independently of a human host, making an AI-driven ship out of the question.

These circumstances left a ship piloted by a human with a paired AI the only possibility to return a ship. In their last test, Ky had successfully created a wormhole that, as far as they could tell, led to Alpha Centauri. The next step, which they were doing today, was to generate the bridge again and then travel through that bridge.

Jax had gotten to this point on the original test run, although he had detected large energy spikes both times he had opened up the bridge, which the R&D team believed led his ship to explode when it attempted to cross through the bridge. They seemed confident that they had worked out what had caused the energy fluctuations and Ky had detected none of the same anomalies that Jax had reported on his test opening, which was a good sign.

Finally, Ky reached the assigned coordinates, having broken off from the support fleet, traveling the last five million kilometers by himself.

“Control,” Ky said, keying his ship to communicate with the command and control ship in the support fleet, “I am at the coordinates.”

“Acknowledge. Shut down drives. Put all non-critical systems on standby.”

Ky had waited until getting the order but already had the commands keyed up in for his AI, waiting on the word to go ahead.

“Confirmed. Systems in standby.”

“Acknowledged. Activate the field generator.”

Again, Ky followed the prescribed steps they had followed for the first test. As the AI followed his commands, the ship seemed to hum as the large circular generator came to life, drawing immense amounts of power from the ship’s fusion drive.

Ky watched the numbers on the readouts in front of his eyes climb upwards as the energy output from the field generator began increasing exponentially.

“Generator at full capacity,” Ky said once the drive had reached the necessary levels.

Command’s systems were slaved into Ky’s ship and they could see everything he was seeing. Humans had long ago learned that it was a bad idea to try remote piloting over millions of kilometers. They had come a long way in technology to adjust for things like time dilation and signal degradation, but the small errors that crept in during even milliseconds of delay as the signals were received were enough to cause serious problems. This forced command to rely on a pilot to execute their commands, only able to watch things in as real-time as possible.

“Acknowledged. We are reading the same thing here. Proceed to stage Alpha.”

Ky keyed in new commands and the ship began to physically vibrate. For a moment, it seemed like nothing was happening outside his craft, and then it was as if the fabric of reality ripped open. It was a difficult thing to describe. One moment he was looking at the stars in front of him, and then what he could only think of as a ripple seemed to shimmer in front of him, followed by a new set of stars being seen. A pale blue glow could be seen in a circle roughly twice the size of the engine on the back of his ship, marking the edges of the bridge. When he looked at the bluish color, he could see it wasn’t really a color at all, but where the light of the stars from inside the circle and the different stars from outside the circle kind of clashed, constantly shifting around each other, reality seeming unsure of which view had primacy.

Ky watched the numbers scrolling across his vision, looking for the pattern he had been instructed to expect.

“Are we there?” Ky sub-vocalized to the computer in his head.

“Bridge at parity, Commander,” the AI responded.

“Command, we have a successful bridge,” Ky relayed.

“We are detecting none of the variance readings. Can you confirm?” control asked.

Ky looked at the readout again and said, “Confirmed command. Everything looks stable.”

“You are authorized to proceed.”

“Acknowledge command. Proceeding on maneuvering thrusters.”

There had been some discussion on how to actually enter the wormhole. Some had argued that the best way to go was to just punch through it at a decent rate of speed, allowing the ship to get through before the bridge collapsed, which in their tests happened fairly quickly.

Other voices argued that the bridge would hold long enough for a slower entry, and worried that the additional energies introduced by the ship’s engine could set off another cascade like on the first test entry.

The slow and careful faction had won out, which meant Ky would be creeping towards the wormhole on maneuvering thrusters only, which was more just bursts of compressed gases designed to be as non-reactive as possible.

The ship slowly crawled towards the bridge until Ky was forced to stretch his neck to see the shifting edges.

Then something happened!

The view in front of him shimmered and then shifted. The pattern of stars that astronomers had assured him was what he would see if he was in the Alpha Centauri system disappeared, and in front of him sat the Earth, although without the large space station he was accustomed to seeing streaking along in high orbit.

“Are we getting readings on this?” Ky asked the AI.

“Confirmed, Commander. Target destination appears to have shifted from Alpha Centauri to Earth close orbit.”

“Reverse thrust. Let’s back off and let command analyze this,” Ky said, pulling back on the small control stick and pushing some buttons that would shift the direction of the craft.

There was a pause and then, “Reverse thrust ineffective, Commander. Forward Velocity to crossover has increased twenty-two point five percent.”

“Command,” Ky said over the comm.

“Ca… you read … neg… abort miss…” a chopped voice tried to reply.

Ky ignored their call for the moment, trying to do exactly what they were saying.

“Why are we accelerating?”

“A sudden gravitational pull, seventy-five point two three five times higher than that of Earth. Current gravitational forces greater than reaction engines can counter.”

“If we fired up the ship’s engines, could we pull out?”

“Negative, Commander. This vessel no longer has the thrust capability to counteract the gravitational pull.”

“Can we shut off the bridge generator?”

“Unknown, Commander, current pro…” the AI started to say and cut off suddenly.

The heads up display that had constantly shown in front of Ky’s eyes since the day he received his implant went dark. He didn’t lose motor control so he knew the AI was still there and functioning, it had just seemingly turned off all communication with him.

“Hello?” Ky said, mentally trying to activate various AI features to no effect. Switching on the manual comms and boosting all but life support to power it, he called back to command, “Command, this is Test Flight 32 alpha declaring an immediate emergency.”

“We … you Commander. You have …opped data syn…” a still choppy voice replied.

“AI has become unresponsive. We have encountered a massive gravitational force pulling us into the bridge. Ship integrity down to,” he paused to check a manual readout, “fifty-five percent and falling. Bridge target has changed. We can see what appears to be Earth, through the bridge.”

“Understood, Comm…” the voice started to say and cut off.

Ky checked his systems and found the disconnection wasn’t interference this time. The AI had shut off the audio link from their end along with all diagnostic feeds that had been sending telemetry back to Command. Surprisingly, the bandwidth of the connection was still running full out with everything switched to a new data feed between his ship and HQ. From what he could see through the ship’s interface with the AI, he was receiving a massive amount of data.

The readout along with the rest of the test craft’s console and lighting all switched off, plunging Ky into darkness. The last thing he’d seen on the terminal was all the power being diverted to process the unknown data feed, including the power used to maintain life support. Ky activated his suit’s internal systems, the helmet formed out of his collar as the liquid mesh flowed around his head, hardened, and snapped into place. Surprisingly, the additional helmet HUD systems the helmet used did not switch on either. He tried to activate the systems manually and found everything was locked out. That wasn’t something that should, or even could happen, even with a massive systems failure. The AI was still clearly functioning and was doing something outside of Ky’s control.

The ship began to shake violently as it started to cross into the bridge. Everything around the viewpoint began to twist and swirl as if viewing reality through water. Cracks spidered out along the canopy as the nearly indestructible transparent steel sheeting began to fracture. With his heads up display and all of the ship’s gauges no longer responding it was impossible to tell what was happening outside. The cracks, however, were a major danger sign, since the ship’s outer shell should have been able to resist the pressures found inside the first several layers of a gas giant.

Then he was through the bridge. The distortion was gone, and Ky was surprised to find a pale blue light outside the window. When he’d seen the planet through the bridge, it had looked to be from low orbit, but now that he had transitioned through, he found himself in the upper atmosphere, descending rapidly. The planet that, at least from this high up, looked exactly like Earth, although even the most cursory examination showed that something wasn’t quite right.

He didn’t have time to dwell on that, as the displays jumped to life again. What they showed was bad. The containment on the fusion core was starting to go critical and the outer skin of the ship was heating rapidly as the ship began re-entry.

“You must eject, Commander,” the AI’s voice rang inside his head, breaking his concentration.

“Where the hell …”

“Initiating ejection procedure. Fifty-three seconds until estimated core breach.”

Ky didn’t have a chance to respond as the canopy was blown from its joints by specially placed explosive charges, shooting it out away from the ship. The AI, as it was programmed to do, used the kinetic shielding of Ky’s flight suit to push him out of the now open end of the ship, using enough force to push him away from the falling craft.

Although the ejection system worked as it should, it was intended for zero-g and not built with atmospheric friction in mind. He cleared the ship, but not by enough. Debris started bouncing off the suit’s kinetic shielding creating a shimmer millimeters from the surface of the suit as that section of the hexagonal grid activated to protect its wearer.

Ky twisted as he fell in a shallow V away from the ship, getting a good look at it from the outside. The ring of the Antonov Field Generator had a large fissure along one side and, as he watched, a third of it snapped and broke away from the rest of the ship.

“Core breach. Activating emergency systems. Shielding at maximum,” the AI said in an eerily calm voice that could only belong to a computer at a moment like this.

Then a small sun exploded. The implants along his eyes instantly polarized, protecting his vision, while the rest of the suit hardened, blocking the wave of radiation pouring off the ship.

By the time the ship exploded he had cleared by almost five kilometers, thanks to his falling angle away from the craft. The last-ditch design feature inside the ship caused a near implosion instead of a full nuclear explosion; nonetheless, he could still feel the heat of the expanding fireball through the shielding and the suit’s protective layers.

Then the concussion of the blast smashed into him. As the air was forced from his lungs, the last thing Ky saw was a rapidly growing horizon.

Chapter 2

Lucilla whipped the rump of her horse hard urging the animal to run faster. The ten remaining men of her guard were close in around her, each riding equally full-out. A glance over her shoulder confirmed that their pursuers were still behind them, although she and her guard had managed to gain a little more distance on them.

Their lead was a temporary situation at best. Their horses could not maintain this grueling pace indefinitely. The enemy must have realized this as well, which is why they let their horses slow slightly, allowing Lucilla’s small group a small lead. They knew it was only a matter of time until their mounts collapsed from exhaustion.

So far, their reaction since the ambush had been purely instinctual for Caedicius, the leader of her Praetorian detachment, who had immediately ordered Ursinus and his small detachment to get Lucilla to Devnum. As the optio had pushed her on a horse Caedicius had turned his remaining soldiers into the teeth of the much larger force they had been ambushed by. That had been the last she’d seen of the gray-haired centurion who had been in charge of her security detachment for as long as she could remember.

“We are not going to make it to Devnum,” she yelled across at Ursinus, who had stuck right by her side since the mad ride had begun.

He glanced back and grimaced, “We’ll keep pushing until the horses die under us or we lose them.”

His voice was hard, with the sound of a man who knew he was doomed but determined to do his duty to the last.

“Optio,” a voice to the right of him yelled, loud enough for Lucilla to hear.

They both turned and looked, seeing a dust cloud rising ahead of them and to the east, veering towards them.

“Reinforcements?” she asked hopefully.

Ursinus thought for a moment and shook his head, “I don’t think so. We have no forces out here. If they had been sent out of Devnum, they would have been headed south, not west. If their commander is as good as the ambush indicates, he had additional soldiers set to stop us from making a break for it. I think those riders are part of our pursuers, not our reinforcements.”

Even yelling, she could hear the apology in his voice as he crushed her hopes of rescue. There had been no warning anything was amiss until the moment their attackers had burst out of the trees. The fact that Caedicius’s men, including Gallus Gratius Ursinus, had managed to fight through the soldiers who had surrounded them and managed to get her this far had been a miracle.

Ursinus made a hand motion, indicating that his small force should turn away from the incoming pursuers. The land to the west and northwest was marshy, heading into a large floodplain that had clearly been filled to the brim. She was not a soldier, but she was observant enough to realize that land would slow them down, probably fatally. Ursinus, however, seemed to have little choice. They would not be able to skirt the marsh and stay out of the hands of the force bearing down on them, and ten men, including him, could not possibly fight through the oncoming attack.

Their pursuers continued to push them into worse and worse choices, and Lucilla knew she was running out of time. She would soon be in the arms of the gods. She was determined to add some of her attackers to the legions of Hades before she went, however.

They didn’t even make it as far as she had thought they might. They’d been forced to slow, twisting down a dry patch of land that led into the marsh, and came up hard against an open bog that would only end up breaking the legs of the mounts had they tried to rush through it.

“Dismount,” Ursinus yelled, his men complying instantly. “I’m sorry, mistress, we will not be able to outrun them.”

She nodded. Even on foot, the marsh would have been a death sentence. They would have been easy pickings had they tried to go through the thick sludge.

“I understand, Optio, you’ve done your best.”

He looked almost relieved at her proclamation, turning to his men as they pulled shields and weapons off the horses and prepared to make their stand.

“Give me a sword,” she demanded before he made his way to his men.

He looked back at her for a moment, his face looking almost questioning before returning to his horse. The hesitation was brief as he pulled a spare gladius from one of the horses and handed it to her.

“We will try and hold a rank in front of you, but even with the marsh at our backs, we will be too heavily outnumbered. They will work around our edges.”

“I will be ready.”

They didn’t have to wait long as the narrow lane they had taken into the marshland filled with horseman slowing as they neared their prey. The symbols painted on some of their shields made it clear who their pursuers were. The horizontal crescent above a circular skull marking proved them to be Carthaginians.

“Here she is,” the lead man said as he pulled his soldiers to a stop, a few spans of open ground from Lucilla and her handful of remaining guards.

The man’s Latin was thick with the accent of the southern Mediterranean, sounding sluggish. His statement also indicated that their ambush of Lucilla and her guard wasn’t happenstance. They had been looking for her specifically. That meant someone who knew her itinerary had betrayed her. It saddened her to know that she would never be able to deal with the traitor. She hoped her father would realize this after her death and kill the man who’d gotten her sentenced her to death.

“You gave us a good chase,” he said to Ursinus, “so I will make you a deal. I’ll let you and your men go if you hand her over to us. We even promise to take her back to Londinium in one piece. Make this bloody, there is a good chance she won’t make it out of this swamp alive.”

Ursinus’s response suggested the soldier attempt some things that were anatomically impractical, eliciting a snarl from the mounted trooper.

“Fine,” he said, waving his men to fan out, half surrounding the legionnaires. “Take them.”

The troopers, who knew better than to try and ride into even a small shield wall, dismounted and charged on foot. The smaller shields of the riders smashed against the large Roman shields as their heavier, and longer, swords tried to find an opening in the armored wall.

For a moment, the two sides held, the Romans curved in tight around Ursinus and Lucilla. Then the first of them fell, screaming as a sword found a hole and punched through the legionnaire’s chest. His friends tried to pull in tight over their fallen comrade, gladii stabbing out, catching more than one Carthaginian unprepared. Their smaller shield didn’t offer nearly as much protection. Men stumbled back from the Roman formation, clutching wounds, or just fell dead.

But there was always another Carthaginian to take the fallen comrade’s place and all too soon another legionnaire fell. A Carthaginian broke through before the Romans could tighten up their formation to close the hole. He ignored the defending Romans and charged right at Lucilla and Ursinus, sword raised.

Ursinus began to move to repel him and stopped. Before he could bring his weapon up to catch the Carthaginians attack Lucilla took a lunge forward with amazing speed, her Gladius lashing out, catching the soldier in an unarmored spot under his arm, sending a gush of blood washing over her outstretched arm.

She stepped back, recovering into a defensive position even as the man’s body fell. Ursinus didn’t have time to marvel at his charge’s surprising ability, as another legionary fell, and then another. The tide had turned, and the Roman wall crumbled.

Two of the Legionaries had dropped their shields as their defenses fell apart, managing to get back to guard the sides of their commander and charge. A third had tried to join them but an ax ended his life before he could retreat fully.

The rest of the small group of legionaries died quickly and violently. Ursinus pulled Lucilla further back, the two surviving legionnaires following suit. Their backs were almost to the horses, which had started to panic. Their small brains locked in deciding whether they should run from the flashing metal and coppery smell of blood into the nearly impenetrable mud.

As seems to happen in many battles there was a small lull; the enemy not making the collective decision to charge forward yet, knowing they could take the four survivors but none wanting to be the first to attack a wounded but still deadly opponent.

Bodies littered the ground and Lucilla was heartened to see there were maybe twenty Carthaginian dead scattered around the seven fallen Roman bodies. Her men, and she thought of them like that even though she wasn’t part of their hierarchy, had done themselves and the Empire proud.

“Kill th…” the leader started to command and then suddenly stopped.

Everyone, Roman and Carthaginian alike, froze in place and looked into the sky through squinting eyes as a second sun appeared above them.

♦♦♦

“Commander,” a voice sounded.

Ky was disoriented as he came awake. He had a moment of confusion as his brain caught up with reality. It came back in a torrent as he remembered the bridge, the ejection, and the explosion.

Ky opened his eyes and saw a small landmass below him quickly growing larger.

“Deploy canopy,” Ky said groggily.

“The canopy is already deployed, Commander.”

The suit was designed to extend its kinetic shielding in large wings that functioned almost like the fabric used during the classic days of aviation. The shielding would create wind resistance that slowed its wearer to a safe speed, although with notable variations from its less high-tech predecessor. Under the AI control, since it was able to make the constant calculations needed, the wings would change in pitch and shape as needed to alter the rate and direction of descent, like an invisible hang glider.

Looking over his shoulder, Ky could see the AI had indeed deployed the canopy while he was still unconscious. A small piece of Ky’s mind noted all the independent actions the computer personality had taken on its own since the bridge had begun failing and then pushed them aside. He had larger problems to deal with at the moment.

“Where are we?”

“All data indicates we are on Earth, above the European continent, specifically above Britain.”

“Everything’s missing!” Ky said.

That was true. From his height, he could see the outline of Europe and Britain except with every major man-made feature missing. The Berlin metropolis, which covered almost a third of Europe, was nowhere to be seen. Even in daylight, it was clearly visible from much higher than his current, although thankfully now much more slowly decreasing, altitude. Looking above him Ky noticed the huge space station that should have been floating in Earth orbit was also missing. Britain, which was essentially a single massive city, looked nearly devoid of all but the smallest settlements.

“Confirmed, Commander. No expected man-made points of reference can be detected. However, topographical and astronomical data conform to general known terrestrial parameters.”

“But where is everything? How can this be Earth?”

“Insufficient data available to answer the query beyond speculation, Commander.”

“Speculate then.”

“Touchdown in under one minute and seventeen seconds, Commander,” the AI replied instead of answering his question.

“Do we have a suitable spot to land?”

“Yes, Commander, there are multiple areas that would be acceptable. However, there seems to be native activity in most of the area within our landing profile.”

“Show me,” Ky commanded.

A section of Ky’s helmet changed from showing what was around him to an enhanced view of the area he would need to land in. The same thing could have happened over his eyes as well, even without the helmet, but Ky preferred to see visuals on the visor of the helmet over the ocular implants if possible and had long ago set the AIs defaults to operate to his preference.

A section of the land beneath him was marked with possible landing points available on his current glide path, even with changes to his canopy. Most of that area was overlaid in red, showing it as unsuitable for landing. A mental command focused in on that area Ky agreed the marshland would be dangerous to land on at the speeds he would touch down at.

Along the far eastern edge of his possible landing area was a small plain which would be perfect for landing, if it didn’t currently hold dozens of men on horseback. He could see archaic weapons either on the horses or in the rider’s hands indicating that they were not gathered there for some type of recreation.

There were smaller cleared areas that stretched into the marsh area, although most were small enough that it was questionable if he could accurately hit them even with the precision his AI could deliver. While it could make rapid changes the closer he got to the ground the more wind gusts and other unpredictable atmospheric changes would cause enough inaccuracies that successful landing became problematic.

There was one other area that stretched into the marshland that was large enough, but it too had people on it. Ky enhanced that area and looked at the people. Instead of milling about, like the horsemen further back along the plains area, there seemed to be two distinct groups. One group which extended all the way back to the larger collection of horsemen surrounded another, much smaller group. The smaller group was made up of a collection of unmounted horses and four people each holding weapons, although at the moment those weapons were held at their sides as they looked up towards where Ky was descending towards them.

It was evident the larger group was threatening the smaller group. Ky could make out a collection of bodies between the two combatants showing that they had already begun to clash before his sudden appearance.

Ky was aware he was not coming in stealthily. Besides the explosion of the ship, which would have been impossible for anyone to miss, his speed had been such that a significant amount of air friction was occurring all along his Kinetic shielding causing it to glow with heat along the length of its surface. At some points, pockets of gasses were reacting against his shielding, bursting into flame here and there as well. The overall effect would have been a somewhat humanoid figure who appeared to be wreathed in fire, with two long planes extending from the shoulders, which would also have seemed to be on fire.

If these people were as primitive as their equipment suggested it would be spectacular.

“Put me between those four individuals and the larger group.”

“Chance of being engaged in hostile action in that location exceeds base safety protocols.”

“Are there any places where we can land safely that don’t exceed safety protocols?”

“Negative, Commander.”

“Then just do it.”

The AI didn’t respond to Ky’s harsh tone, which was to be expected. It was programmed to give warnings for things like this, but his command would override those protocols.

The ground was coming up quickly now, rushing to meet him.

“Adjust shielding for impact,” Ky said.

The canopy disappeared instantly. They were close enough to the ground that it wouldn’t slow him much more at this point and that power could be better used to harden and distribute the impact. The kinetic shielding was good at this since that was the primary purpose it was designed for although it was also used for minimal protection from ballistic or low powered energy weapons as well.

While the almost sixty kilometers per hour at which Ky was traveling wasn’t fast when compared to any modern form of conveyance, it was fast enough that even with the kinetic shielding the impact was going to be spectacular.

Ky unconsciously held his breath as he traveled the last few meters and smashed into the ground, the kinetic shielding directing the energy from the impact away spraying dirt across both groups of primitively dressed people as a small crater was created around him. The displacement ensured Ky wasn’t injured but he was still forced to his knees as he smashed to the ground, air being forced from his lungs in a grunt.

Both groups had flinched back and brought their weapons up as Ky stood.

He was about to speak when a man sitting on a horse in the middle of the large group yelled something incomprehensible and guttural, breaking the spell his men were under. With a collective bellow, the men charged.

Ky had not needed the AIs warning, his hand was already on the sidearm that regulations required all pilots to carry, even in peacetime. The mass of men and horses charged forward, the ground trembling under their collected weight, only to slam into a wall of devastation as Ky pulled his sidearm and began to fire.

Although chemically propelled weapons were still sometimes used, mostly by hobbyists on target ranges, the military had changed over to energy-based weapons several hundred years ago. While humanity originally used laser weapons there had been multiple practical issues keeping them from being ideal weapons of war. They were replaced by plasma-based weapons once the technology was developed enough to make that a workable choice.

The weapon Ky carried was a modern version that still bore a lot of similarities to those original plasma weapons, although significantly more advanced. The main difference between those earlier plasma weapons and the one Ky used was the updated model no longer had to generate the super-heated gases itself, making the weapon safer to carry. Instead a small, very durable bead containing a chemical mixture was ejected at a high velocity from the weapon. The bead passed through an energized field at the end of the weapon which activated it’s coating, turning it into an expanding ball of super-heated gas. The fiery ball expanded from a tiny 2 millimeters of the original bead up to one-hundred and twenty millimeters with temperatures in the center of the ball reaching thirty-five hundred degrees Kelvin.

While this was hot enough to burn through most metals, and certainly anything as fragile as a person, it wasn’t enough to breach the carbon battle steel used by modern ships, at least without sustained fire.

In an open environment such as this, a drawback to the weapon was it had a limited range. This was more because it would burn up the gases created by the igniting of the chemicals inside the pellet than because of any loss of forward momentum. Since most modern combat occurred on board ships or in pressurized vessels the shorter range and limited breaching ability was actually seen as a benefit rather than a liability. The military did deploy higher impact weapons for ground operations or when dealing with properly armored opponents, but that wouldn’t have been something assigned to a pilot.

The weapon was, however, enough for the task at hand.

The bright balls of fire exploded along the line, burning men down and, in most cases, two or three more men behind the original target as it melted anything it came into contact with. Men, at least those whose lungs weren’t scorched by super-heated flame, screamed they burned, the plasma melting skin and flesh and vaporizing bone. Wooden shields or clothing actually hit by the plasma would also vaporize, but those at the fringes of the ball were set alight, adding to the terror and agony as horses and men burst into flame, even if they only stood next to someone who was actually hit by the weapon.

Their line did not so much break as totally dissolve as they witnessed their comrades melt in front of them or drop with holes burned clean through. They scrambled backward, colliding with the forces following behind the first wave of attackers, using the weapons in their hands or shields to violently knock any obstacle out of their way in their mad dash to escape.

The havoc wreaked among them was beyond anything in their experience. It broke any personal courage they might have. The whole force was wavering on the edge of total panic when one of the burning balls of gas found their leader on his horse as he shouted to rally his men. It impacted in the man’s upper torso causing his head and shoulders to disappear as though he’d been a drawing, easily erased. The horse somehow managed to survive the initial blast. Its hair set on fire, the wounded animal panicked. Turning, the flaming beast ran away from what it perceived as the source of its pain, back into the routing soldiers. Like something out of a nightmare, the flaming steed crushed men under its hooves and set others on fire as it passed, all the while the lower torso of the men’s leader still gripped on its back, making the scene all the more terrifying.

Ky paused, seeing there was no more need to kill as the men ran headlong into their mounted companions further back, yelling screaming in their strange language. A general rout ensued as every man tried to escape in any direction they could, some dragging their still mounted friends to the ground in an attempt to get a faster means of escape.

Ky turned to the three men and one woman who had been at his back, each with an expression equal parts terror and hope at the armored being with the strange metallic face. They retreated a few steps and let out a collective gasp as Ky mentally retracted his flight helmet, which quickly slid back piece by piece and disappeared into the suit.

They hesitated as the monster in front of them became a man. After only the briefest of pauses, the woman stepped forward, shaking off the hand of an older man who seemed to try and stop her and stood in front of Ky, saying something Ky couldn’t recognize in a defiant tone of voice.

“Can you translate,” Ky sub-vocalized.

“Attempting, Commander.”

“Who are you?” Ky asked, not expecting a response but hoping his speaking would prompt her to reply.

Thankfully, she continued, jabbering at him, pointing at the sky and then back to him, slowly at first and then more excitedly as she got going.

“Anything?” he sub-vocalized to the AI.

“It matches no languages in my installed database Commander. Multiple indicators match a language from the ancient past known as Latin, with eighty-seven percent correlation with language files on hand.”

“You have ancient languages loaded in your database?” Ky asked out of surprise.

AI’s were normally loaded with mission-specific data assigned by command, system critical data that was always loaded, and any additional space available for the operator to load as they wanted. When he’d been selected for this mission, however, they had required all of the data on his AI except that needed for piloting and system critical functionality to be wiped to clear space for the massive amount of storage needed for the test protocols.

Although he wasn’t sure what was actually contained in those protocols, since much of the information was well above his understanding, Ky was certain ancient language files had not been included.

“My database was altered just prior to and during translation through the bridge.”

“On whose order?”

“Data transfer was self-initiated.”

That was a terrifying answer and suggested that the doctor had been more correct than he knew. Ky’s AI was progressing faster than he was comfortable with. That, however, was one more thing he would have to deal with after things were a bit more settled.

“Fine,” he said to the AI, somehow managing to put a sigh into his mental voice. “Translate.”

“Affirmative, Commander.”

“Who are you?” he asked, and the woman paused, looking at him confused.

“Hand of the Lord of Sky,” she said, seeming to concentrate, “Verily, for my identity flowers from royal personage in child being.”

“What the hell does that mean?” he sub-vocalized to the AI, “Are you sure the translation is working.”

“The translation is accurate Commander. Spoken structure remains constant, the speaker altered word choices to those matching stored language files with ninety-eight percent accuracy.”

“So she recognized what I said and altered her speech to match what we have on file?”

“Affirmative Commander.”

“Why?”

“Insufficient data available to answer the query with accuracy, Commander.”

“Seeing as how weird this situation is, let’s assume that’s going to be the answer a lot. For the time being, if sufficient data isn’t available, speculate to the closest likely answer if at all possible,” Ky said and, after thinking about the ramifications of his comment, added, “but tell me when you are speculating.”

“Yes, Commander. Speculative answer: Subject speaks Latin or a derivation of Latin similar to that in my records. The subject appears to recognize and speak the form of Latin in my records to some degree. The non-standard word choice would appear to be either a gap in the subject’s understanding of the form of Latin in my records or an inaccuracy in my records with that form.”

“Can you fix the errors in your records?”

“Unknown, Commander. A speculative recommendation, the language files in my database are built upon writings with little context to contemporary usage. There is a seventy-two percent chance the subject’s original choice was a standard usage form of Latin, with the files in my system being an alternate usage form. Possibility of communication easier using the standard form over alternate usage.”

The AI had made the leap from simple extrapolations of data to recommendations based on the speculation, which was yet another worrying sign that Ky had to ignore for expediency, filing it away with the other concerning choices the software was making.

“You’re saying we might have an artistic or archaic version of the language, which explains the weird word choices. You’re recommending that we adjust your translation files to match her dialect?”

“Affirmative Commander.”

“Why do we need to do that?”

“The subject must continue speaking in the original usage while files are altered.”

While the conversation with the AI happened at the speed of thought, it had been long enough that the woman and her companions were looking between themselves and Ky, their expressions suggesting concern at the sudden silence.

“Please speak the way you were before. I am trying to learn your way of speaking.”

“Finger of the shining father, my truest pleasure for your orders will be.”

Ky smiled at her in what he hoped was a reassuring manner.

“Why are you here?”

She began speaking, the words sounding like gibberish at first, before finally, he heard, “ … attacked … guard … visit the shrine at Glevum. The commander of my security force … the optio and a handful of soldiers to attempt to … to safety.”

“We have the correct translation?” Ky sub-vocalized to the AI.

“Yes, Commander. Correlations between known language files and newly presented language have been made, with a previously assumed inaccurately translated historical records matching to the newly presented language. A new database will continue to be built as new vocabulary is presented. Fluency will continue as new words are presented.”

“Why did they attack you?” he asked out loud.

Her face showed recognition, and a little surprise as the AI translated the language as he spoke it to the new, apparently correct, dialect. She, however, had enough wits about that it didn’t seem to deter her too much. The soldiers behind her seemed a bit more stunned.

“They were Carthaginians.”

“Carthaginians?” he asked the AI.

“Carthaginians, from the city of Carthage, a civilization located along the North African coast, dominating much of the trade in the southern Mediterranean during the first millennia BC. Destroyed by Rome at the conclusion of the conflict known as the Third Punic Wars in 146 BC. Most existing records on the civilization come from Roman sources, with early and non-Roman-centric references being limited or nonexistent.”

“North Africa? It appeared we landed somewhere in Britain, or what looked like Britain.”

“Affirmative Commander. The subject’s identified their original destination as Glevum. Records of this area indicate a later settlement of that name being built near the Gloucester district of the London Metropolis, which was itself a city prior to the urban expansion of 2193.”

“But, if we’re in Britain, then how is a southern Mediterranean civilization, here?”

“Unknown, Commander.”

“Speculate,” Ky said to the AI with a sigh.

“Unable to speculate, Commander. Records indicate the British Isles were not colonized by Latin speaking people until after the destruction of the Carthaginian civilization.”

“My lord?” the woman asked, as Ky had fallen silent.

“Why are the Carthaginians attacking you?”

“Because, we are Roman!” she said, seeming confused by the question.

“Well, it seems they have run, for now. You should be able to make your escape while they regroup.”

“My lord, have you come with us to help my people?”

“What?”

“You came from the heavens, sent by the gods.”

“I … ”

“Commander,” the AI interrupted.

“What?” Ky sub-vocalized angrily.

In the three decades since he’d gotten his first implant, he’d never dealt with an AI this … forceful before, and he was starting to find it a little bothersome.

“Describing details leading to your arrival to natives is unadvised.”

“Why?”

“They lack the basic knowledge necessary to understand the words you would use, most of which do not exist in their language. Studies in ancient cultures would predict their seeing you as either an agent of one of their deities or a demonic figure. If the latter choice is taken, predictive models suggest a high likelihood of violent response.”

“So lie to them.”

“Unable to answer the query.”

“You’re a big help,” Ky grumbled internally, and then continued to the woman, who must be wondering why he kept randomly pausing, “I’m not sure why I’m here.”

That seemed to find the balance in the middle ground between giving no information and still not lying directly. She, however, seemed to take that uneasily.

“But, you saved us …”

“You seemed like you needed saving,” Ky said, noncommittally.

“My Lady,” one of the men who had been mute behind her said, reaching out and lightly touching her elbow, “They will be returning for us before long. The more distance we can put between us before they regroup, the better.”

“Will you come with us?”

“I don’t …”

“Commander.”

“Just say what you’re going to say,” he snapped at the AI.

“Additional data is needed on the present situation. Suggested course of action would be to continue with non-hostile natives who may be able to provide additional information not otherwise accessible until the situation changes or all available data has been acquired.”

Ky wanted to tell the AI to shut up and not bother him again unless it was life-threatening or he asked for a response, but he held back, mostly because it made an excellent point that Ky should have worked out on his own. He might not have been the pinnacle of his batch, but he was capable enough for at least that level of reasoning. His near decline of her plea spoke volumes about how off-balance he still was.

“I can go with you for a while.”

“Good,” the older man said. “You can use Tulus’s horse. It’s good with new riders, and he won’t …”

The man stopped speaking, his eyes darting to one of the bodies on the ground before continuing.

“We should probably get going.”

Chapter 3

“I’m sorry, Lord, but I don’t understand. How could you not know about the Carthaginians?” the woman said as the small group rode northward across what the AI had confidently confirmed was the British countryside.

“Why do you keep calling me Lord?”

“Because it is who you are. You were sent by the gods. We saw you descending from the heavens on wings of fire.”

Ky could imagine that the way friction had burned off his kinetic shielding as he dropped out of the sky would look somewhat like that to people with limited knowledge of science.

“Commander,” the AI said, it’s continually flat tone somehow carrying a warning note inside Ky’s head.

“I know, I know,” Ky subvocalized and then said to the woman, “It’s … not exactly like that. I’m not a god.”

“I realize that my Lord, but you are one of their avatars, sent to bring back the glory of Rome.”

“I’m sorry, I’m not that either. My presence here is … an accident. I want nothing more than to find a way back home. Also, please, don’t call me ‘Lord’ anymore. My name is Ky.”

The woman turned to exchange a glance at the older soldier who Ky had pegged as some type of officer. His look in return was, if anything, more notable than hers, breaking the stoic expression he’d held since they’d loaded the horses with what supplies they could gather off the fallen soldiers and ridden out of the swampland. The man’s eyebrows lifted, and he looked back at her with mouth slightly agape before gaining control over his features again.

He had not been able to twist his body around, because of the need to keep his knees locked against its flanks. Ky was not sure what he had expected when it came to riding a horse, since it was not something anyone from his time had done in a very long time, at least not outside of some of the smaller, more esoteric recreational groups.

“I didn’t get any of your names,” Ky said as she twisted back towards him.

“I’m Flavia Lucilla, daughter of Titus Flavius Germanicus, Princeps of the Roman people. He,” she said, pointing at the older soldier, “Is Gallus Gratius Ursinus. I’m sorry, but I don’t know the two trooper’s names.”

“Canus Laberius Sellic and Gallus Asinius Siculus, my lady,” the soldier provided.

“Yes, Sellic and Siculus,” she said, looking at the two men with a smile, “I’m sorry I forgot, I promise it won’t happen again. You’ve both served admirably.”

Both men beamed at the recognition from their charge. Ky had been in the military long enough to understand the value of public praise.

“Is Princeps some kind of leader?” Ky asked the AI silently.

“Yes, Commander. In recorded history, Princeps was the contemporary title taken by what later times would have been called Emperor. Use of the title suggests that it carries the same context in this reality.”

Ky could not keep the grimace off his face at the phrase ‘this reality’. As soon as he had a quiet moment, he needed to find out what the AI meant by that term exactly.

“You’ll have to forgive my confusion,” he said to the woman, pushing that thought on the giant pile of ‘things to deal with later,' “I haven’t spent much time looking into what has been happening with your people and the Carthaginians. Your … activities are not well known in my homeland. Could you explain why, precisely, you were being attacked by those people?”

Ky was proud of how he managed to word that. Since he had never taken ancient studies that, in the strictest sense, was not a lie. Hopefully, his statement would keep them from jumping to conclusions that might cause a sword to be pulled out.

“I understand, my lord …”

“Ky,” he said, interrupting.

“Ky,” she said uncertainly, the sound of his name seeming alien to her. “During the height of our republic we lost a devastating war to the Carthaginians, who have spent the past years taking more land from us. Seventy-five years ago, we came to this cursed island after being pushed back to the sea.”

“But they are here in Britain, now?”

“Britain …” not as a question, but again as if she was trying to work out a strange sounding word, “Yes, they came to Britannia five years ago, expelling us from the cities we had built and forcing us to move further north, hoping to crush us against the stones and painted Northmen. We have fought back, but our numbers dwindle as theirs continue to grow.”

“If they are so dangerous why would the Princeps send his daughter toward their forces?”

“My father has fallen very ill and we are worried that he will not last much longer. I was traveling to see the Oracle of Glevum to beg for a cure for him. We were ambushed as we approached the city. Ursinus was ordered to get me to safety while the rest of the men assigned to protect me laid down their lives to buy us time.”

Her face turned dark. Ky could see the guilt behind her eyes at the death of so many men to save her.

“They were ready for us,” Ursinus picked up as Lucilla wiped the newly formed tears from her eyes. “A second force angled in from the north and trapped us in the marshlands.”

“Yes,” she said, having gained composure. “We never got to the Oracle. I fear my father …”

“Commander, their capital might be ideal for …”

‘Shut up,’ he told the AI, and then said out loud, “I can travel with you as far as your capital, to see your father. I’m not a medic… um, a healer, but I can take a look and see if there is anything I can do.”

Although Ky wasn’t even trained to the level of the Med Tech he had spoken to only a few hours ago, or millennia depending on how you looked at it, he did carry a med kit that would be so far beyond what was available to these people that it would seem like magic.

“You would do that?”

“I’m not promising I will be able to cure him. I’m a soldier, not a healer, but … I can try.”

Her head practically whipped back around to Ursinus, who looked in surprise back at her again.

“What?”

“It’s … it’s nothing. I understand you make no promises, and I’m very grateful for your help.”

She lapsed into silence, sharing occasional glances at Ursinus when she thought Ky wasn’t watching. Ky chose to ignore them and use this as a chance to consult with the AI about what the hell was going on.

“Okay,” he sub-vocalized, “you clearly have some kind of supposition of what the hell is going on.”

“There are several possibilities, Commander. While some have a higher probability than others, there is insufficient data to confirm any of them with any degree of certainty.”

“But you have determined one to be more likely than others?”

“Yes, Commander.”

Ky waited for the AI to add more, and then mentally sighed and said, “And that scenario would be?”

“The theory used as the basis of the bridge originates from earlier theories that also indicated that the universe was not made up of a single reality but is instead composed of multiple realities existing in parallel. The theory proposed that a bridge opened into one of those parallel realities was not tied to a specific time or place, with the same being true of any bridge opened from that reality back to the originating reality. This would, in theory, allow a vessel capable of generating that opening in realities to travel from one point in their universe to another. Later iterations of the theory removed the idea of parallel realities, with tests showing it would be possible to create an opening that allowed instantaneous travel from one point to another while remaining in the same reality.”

“You suggesting it’s possible the original theory was correct and the bridge would be able to jump through to one of those parallel realities?”

“It would appear so Commander.”

“How do we get back?”

“That is not possible under current conditions Commander.”

“What? Why isn’t it possible?”

“Capabilities necessary to produce a functioning bridge generator do not exist.”

“What capabilities? Why couldn’t we build one and open a bridge back?”

“The bridge generator requires some materials not native to this planet for construction. Observed technological level of available production methods do not meet required basis for constructing a bridge generator. Necessary theory and schematics are unavailable.”

“What do you mean the theory and schematics are unavailable. They had me dump everything but core software and gave me an upgrade to my implant to make room for the necessary theory and schematics?”

“Prior to translation through the bridge, all files related to bridge test, including theory and schematics, were removed, Commander.”

“Under whose orders?”

“No orders were received to remove data, Commander.”

“You removed the data on your own?”

“Affirmative, Commander.”

“Why?”

Ky was starting to move around in an agitated way, and he knew the Romans had noticed but at the moment, he could not help it. He could not understand how the AI had, or would, sabotage them so badly.

“Scans of the bridged destination showed a primitive technology base and structural readings from test platform indicated impending destruction. Survival protocols require steps be taken to ensure host survival if possible, barring conflicts with operator commands or core protocols. As likelihood of stranding in primitive conditions neared parity, files needed for building and operating a bridge generator were removed to allow loading of databases of historical and technical records to increase probability of host survival.”

“Is that when you went offline during the transition?”

“Affirmative Commander. Highest probability scenario indicated a limited period of accessibility to fleet databases. All non-critical processes were redirected for use in sorting and downloading any pertinent data for highest probability scenario.”

“How much did you get?”

“Priority was given to records closest to predicted technological level, expanded as additional bandwidth became available until transmission window closed. Historical records along with technical files covering base theory and schematics up to late twentieth century were retrieved. Transmission ended before records covering twenty-first century could fully download, although some data from that century was also accessed and stored.”

“That’s something I guess,” Ky said, more than himself than to the AI. “Is there nothing we can do to get back home? Let’s just say we somehow managed to rework the theory and figure out a way to build the bridge generator, could we go back?”

“Assuming the ability to correctly reconstruct the bridge theory and accurately build both an Antonov Field Generator and fusion reactor capable of power it, there is a two times ten to the negative seven hundred ninety-five thousand eight hundred and thirty-four percent chance of returning to originating reality.”

“Really?”

“Arrival in this reality was outside original mission expectations and theory and did not conform to small-scale tests prior to the start of human-piloted trials. High probability of theory error or physical anomaly altered expected results, invalidating most predictive scenarios. With the exception of an infinitesimally small selection all scenarios in which both theoretical and technical obstacles are surmounted, and a new bridge generator is completed, end with transition to alternate realities other than the originating reality. Given that all theories used in creating the bridge generation technology disregarded the possibility of alternate realities, there exists no known scientific understanding that allows for calculations that would allow transition back to the originating reality.”

“So even if we managed to make a new bridge generator, we’d just end up traveling to random alternate realities instead of our own.”

“Affirmative commander. The odds of unintentionally traveling to the originating reality are several magnitudes smaller than the statistical chance of correctly reassembling a new bridge generator and adequate power source.”

“We’re stuck here then?”

“Affirmative commander.”

“Are you alright?” a voice said, pulling Ky out of his introspection.

“What?” he asked, looking up and noticing people staring at him.

“You seem … afflicted,” Lucilla said, her brow furrowed in concern.

“I’m fine, just working some problems though in my head. Sometimes I can get a little too animated doing it, I guess.”

She did not seem convinced, but let it drop.

“We’re on Earth, at some point in the past, but things are different. Correct?” he said, schooling his features to be still as he spoke to the AI.

“Affirmative Commander.”

“Do we have any idea what the date is?”

“Suit readings and astronomical data collected shortly after transition into this reality correlates with the early second century C.E. Additional data is needed for more precise dating.”

“Well, I guess we’ll have to wait and see what we can find out when we get to this capital of theirs.”

The AI did not respond, and Ky went back to thinking. He had never ridden a horse before, but the AI had enough data to create a muscle profile which was further modified after watching the soldiers ride. Even with that Ky was starting to find riding on the back of the animal to be far inferior to being in a fighter as he bounced uncomfortably with each step.

When Ursinus called a halt for the night Ky was silently thankful to be off the beast. While he was spared any chafing or physical harm with the aid of his nanites, he was certain he would not get used to this form of travel any time soon.

In the last hour of their ride, they had transitioned from the open plains to a heavily wooded area, taking what was essentially an animal trail. When he called a halt, Ursinus led the group off the animal trail a few hundred feet into the dense collection of trees.

“No fire tonight. We don’t want them sneaking up on us. Trail rations only.”

Lucilla frowned at that announcement, but Ky noticed the two soldiers nodding in agreement. The necessity for security overrode comfort. One of the men took the reins of the horse from Ky and passed him a rolled-up blanket that had been tucked behind the saddle. Ky looked at it questioningly watching as the rest laid the coarse fabric on the ground. With a slight shrug, Ky followed suit.

He watched them pull small wrapped parcels that contained what looked like a hard bread and meat of some kind. One of the soldiers noticed Ky was not eating and started to hand the meat over to him.

“Thank you, but no,” Ky said.

Ky noticed how quickly the others were eating and the relieved look from the soldier when the food was declined, both of which suggested these people were malnourished. They had apparently ridden for a time before they were cornered, and Ky came across them after an additional nine hours of riding since the fight in the marshland.

While Ky did need to eat, the nanites in his system held and used nutrition incredibly effectively and could do the same with stored fats if need be. Normally, he only ate two small meals a day and could go for several days before feeling the effects of hunger. The small rations stored in the emergency supplies in his suit would be enough to keep him going for several weeks before he would really need an external source of fuel.

Ky realized that at some point their flight from pursuers would be less desperate. At that point, he would figure out what to do for food. Better their rations be used by the soldiers and Lucilla to keep their strength up than Ky eat them in case they were ambushed again.

“You don’t eat?” Ursinus asked.

“I do, but I can go longer than most without it. You eat. I’ll eat when things have calmed down or we get to this city of yours.”

He shrugged and bit into his small amount of food.

“Before, when we were talking,” Ky said, turning to Lucilla, “You kept exchanging glances at things I said. Why?”

“Just that some of the things you’ve said match with a story from … a long time ago.”

“She’s dancing around it,” Ursinus said. “Some of the things you’ve said match with prophecy.”

“Prophecy?” Ky asked, genuinely confused.

Lucilla shot a glance at Ursinus, who returned her glare nonplussed before she continued saying, “Shortly before the last Oracle of Delphi was murdered by the Carthaginian bastards, he gave a prophecy. The optio is right, I was thinking you matched it.”

“What did the prophecy say?”

“You’ll have to read the scrolls in the Temple of Jupiter to see the exact wording, but essentially the prophecy said that when Rome was on the brink of total destruction Jupiter would send a soldier to save us and bring back the glory of Rome. This person would wield the power of the gods and, while he would never claim himself as their servant, we would know him from his deeds.”

“This prophecy seems a little vague,” Ky said. “It doesn’t give any specifics other than the person has powers and doesn’t come out and directly say he’s this person.”

Ursinus made a scoffing sound and said, “Some scholars believe it was actually written with a particular general in mind who was, at that moment, running with his legions after being defeated soundly.”

“Most people don’t believe that version,” Lucilla said, her voice tightening.

“My Lady, that’s because people are afraid and want something to give them hope. There have been those who’ve shown up over the years and claimed to be the Sword. They always manage to gather a large following before they’re exposed,” Ursinus shot back.

“The Sword?”

“It’s what this person has become known as, the Sword of Jupiter,” Lucilla said.

“As things get worse, more people have latched onto the story of the Sword. It’s a popular subject for what plays are still being made,” Ursinus said.

“It’s probably a good idea not to mention this to anyone else,” Ky said seriously. “If I’m not able to help your father after you tell people I’m some kind of agent of the gods, they could react badly.”

She traded another look with Ursinus, and Ky rolled his eyes, “I’m serious.”

“He has a point, my lady.”

“Fine,” she said in almost a pout. “But people will figure it out when someone else sees you throwing balls of fire.”

“I might not be able to do that very often,” he warned.

“Why? It was amazing. Just think what will happen to our enemies and the destruction you could rain down on them.”

“The thing I use to do that can only be used so many times. Once I’ve used it up, I won’t be able to do it again.”

“Really?” Ursinus asked, sounding a little alarmed.

Ky looked at each of them seriously, “I’ll tell you now, I … am … not … magic. I do have some abilities that you don’t, but I’m still a person like you. Some of the tools I have may seem like magic, but they are still only tools.”

Lucilla looked skeptical but Ursinus was staring at Ky with a more calculating expression.

“That’s why I do not want you going around proclaiming me to be some magic savior sent by the gods. People will find out I’m not and then they’ll turn on me when their hopes are dashed.”

“Fine,” Lucilla said, “I will grant you have a point about how people would react, but I still find it hard to believe you aren’t sent by the gods. Not with what I saw you do.”

Ky just shrugged, not knowing what he could say to her that would make sense.

“Perhaps he is like Achilles or Hercules,” Ursinus said, coming to Ky’s aid.

“Maybe,” she said, doubtfully.

“Who are they?” Ky asked the AI, wondering if he was going to be constantly asking that question every time a reference was made.

“References to Achilles and Hercules in historical records indicate both were mythical figures originating from earlier Greek epics. Specific literature containing either character is not in retrieved databases. Contextual reference suggests literary characters possessing some form of extra-human abilities while not being considered deities.”

Ky looked at both of them. “Well, I don’t know about any of that. Yes, I fell from the sky. Yes, I am a soldier. No, I’m not the person to save your civilization. It’s not why I’m here.”

“Why are you here?” Lucilla asked.

“Like I said before, I don’t know. My arrival was … kind of an accident. I’m not sure there is any way I can explain it that would make sense to you. I’m just trying to figure out what I’m going to do now that I’m here.”

“But you will help my father,” she said in a way that was clearly more of a statement than a question.

“I will do what I can.”

“For now, that will be enough.”

“Someone must be positioned down by the road to keep watch. We need to know if the Carthaginians catch up with us overnight. I don’t think they will, but I don’t want to risk it,” Ursinus said, changing the subject.

“I’ll take first watch Optio,” one of the two soldiers, Sellic or Siculus, said. Ky wasn’t sure which was which.

The man left his bag next to where the other soldier was already lying down, pulled his sword, and headed into the trees towards the direction of the animal trail they had come down.

“Of course, they may have headed down another trail or gone around this area entirely,” Ursinus said watching the man go, “Even if nothing happens tonight, we will have to watch not only behind us but ahead of us as well, to make sure we don’t stumble into them. We have to prepare for both, since we don’t know how good their trackers are.”

“Can I borrow a sword?” Ky asked before Ursinus could settle in.

The soldier considered for a moment, and then returned to one of the horses and pulled a weapon from the bag tied to its back.

“Do you know how to use this?” he asked handing it over.

“I’ll figure it out,” Ky said, sounding surer of himself than he actually was, before subvocalizing to the AI, “Do you have databases on wielding this type of weapon?”

“Yes, Commander. Priority in data retrieval was given to use and operation of expected weapons from possible technological levels.”

“Can its use be translated into the combat tracking?”

“Affirmative, Commander. Files for weapons already observed have been loaded into my combat tracking. Practical experimentation will be required to adjust physical and targeting matrices.”

The tracking and predictive action systems of the tactical AI were not solely built for use in fighters and had regularly been adapted for use in hand to hand combat. The motion assistance, overlay guide paths, and targeting apparatus could be adapted to any combat usage if the AI was given the chance to observe the weapons in use.

Having a baseline system in place for that weapon was a good step up, and while it would have had to be adopted as the AI learned from both practical experience and witnessing others using the weapons, it would keep him from starting at ground zero.

Ky made a clumsy practice swing with the weapon, giving the AI time to set in his muscle responses and the multi-track display on his AI, that would show all the viable paths, and highlighting the one the AI predicted as the most efficient option still available from that moment.

At first, the idea that he could make actions while simultaneously following and interacting with the HUD overlay that constantly hovered over his eyes seemed impossible. His first year of training would have been an embarrassment if everyone else had not been experiencing the same thing in their training.

He had practiced so long that it had eventually become second nature to let the AI start his muscles down the right path, as he mentally adjusted and put conscious weight behind the action he indicated for the AI.

The second swing was more balanced, less wobbly. By the fourth swing, the targeting tracks appeared in his vision, as the AI processed the weight and feel of the weapon. He would need actual combat, or a space with room enough to practice and a willing partner, to actually lock the system in all the way. After a half dozen swings, he felt the weapon become steady in his hands, going where he wanted it to go.

Ky looked up, to see Ursinus staring at him. Lucilla and the other soldier were already on their bedrolls, heading quickly to sleep. Considering how their morning had started, watching their friends slaughtered in an ambush followed by a harried escape, he was surprised they had held out this long before crashing.

“This will work,” Ky said, trying to be nonchalant, lowering himself to lean against a tree, next to where Lucilla slept, setting the weapon on the ground.

Ursinus gave him one more odd look and laid down on his bedroll, rolling over to put his back to them, facing out. Ky couldn’t help but notice that the man’s sword remained very close at hand, which said something about the man.

Ky’s eyes slid closed, and his breathing eased. With some assistance from the nanites flooded across his system, Ky could go several days without feeling the effects of lack of sleep. Resting instead of standing watch just in case these Carthaginians happened upon them was a risk, but he did not know what would happen tomorrow or the next day. Wearing himself out now, when he needed to be able and push himself tomorrow, would be just as bad.

Besides, even when he was asleep, the human body continued hearing sounds and smelling smells, even feeling changes in the air around it. Normally, those sensations would play on the subconscious mind, stored but generally unnoticed. His AI, however, did not sleep, and would actively monitor these sensations even when Ky was asleep. Ky let his mind settle down and slowly dropped into sleep, letting the stress of the disastrous test and stranding wash away … for at least a little while.

Sometime later, something caused Ky to wake up. The AI had not issued a warning, and, as he opened his eyes, he couldn’t immediately see anything out of place or different. A check at the chronometer in the corner of his vision told him just under two hours had passed since he’d fallen asleep.

Another slight sound drew his attention, and he turned to see Lucilla thrashing around, small whimpering sounds escaping her. Not enough to wake Ursinus or the soldier a little further away or to have triggered a warning from the AI, but enough that it had reached the ‘lizard’ part of his brain evolution still retained, pulling him awake.

He was about to close his eyes again when Lucilla took a sudden deep breath and sat up straight, eyes darting around, sweat rolling down her temples despite the cool air around them.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly.

She jerked around suddenly, a startled expression on her face for just a moment, until her brain caught up, fighting through the sleep.

“I’m … I’m fine. Just a bad dream.”

“Ohh,” Ky said.

“I’m sorry if I woke you.”

“It’s okay. I worried you might be sick.”

“Sick?”

“Because you were thrashing around, making noises.”

“You sound like you haven’t seen someone have a nightmare before.”

“I haven’t.”

“You haven’t? How is that possible?”

“Where I’m from, people don’t dream.”

“But … I don’t understand. How do people not dream?”

Ky wasn’t sure how to explain it to her. Telling her that one of the side effects of having an AI was it kept the hosts from dreaming would raise a lot more questions than it answered, some of which he’d rather avoid for now.

“It has to do with our abilities,” Ky answered after a pause, trying to word it in that gray area between the total truth and a lie. “When we are … granted our abilities, one of the side effects is we don’t dream any longer.”

“Are there more people where you come from?”

“Yes, lots.”

“Are they all warriors?”

“No. I don’t know a lot about how your people live, but there are probably a lot of similarities. Some of us are soldiers, but most aren’t. They are scholars and builders and farmers.”

“Do they all have the magic devices you possess?”

“No. As a soldier, I have been given abilities and equipment not available to most. Your people do the same, don’t they? Or does everyone wear armor and carry swords?”

Without explaining what his world was like, Ky was trying to downplay the more exceptional parts of it. Lucilla, however, wasn’t buying it.

“They do, but it’s not even close to being the same. I still don’t understand. You say you weren’t sent by the gods, but why …”

Her words cut off suddenly, her eyes widening as Ky’s hand flashed out. From her perspective, it must have seemed he was striking out, maybe to stop her questions, but she couldn’t see what he had seen. Something had alerted the AI that would have been missed Ky’s own ability to see it, or at least recognize what he saw for what it was.

Even as she started speaking, a warning from the AI blared in his head, his arm already moving under AI control as a target track leading out from the trees and ending at Lucilla appeared in front of his vision. Following the guide, his hand flashed out, closing even as the dagger twirled in its arch, closing around its hilt in a move no living person on this version of earth could duplicate.

For a moment, that for her must have seemed like an eternity, he held the blade scant inches from her chest, the blade glinting in the moonlight, and then his hand flashed out again. The dagger left his hand, twirling on a reverse course, with a force several times higher than that its original owner had used.

A scream echoed out from the darkness even as Lucilla yelled, “Ambush.”

Ky’s hand yanked the sword he’d been given from its scabbard and pushing himself off the ground. To her credit, Lucilla was right behind him, weapon coming to hand. Ursinus was showing a very fast response for a man who moments before was fast asleep. His body reacted almost on autopilot, coming into a crouch, weapon at the ready, while his face still showed the signs of sleep and confusion.

The confusion didn’t stop Ursinus from blocking the downward thrusting sword he found coming at him, swung by a man who’d seemingly materialized out of the shadows, as his eyes adjusting to the low light here in the trees.

Unfortunately, the other soldier with them was not at Ursinus’ level. He was rousing, coming to his feet, but was too slow. The sword coming for him found no such obstacle. The soldier was a dead man, or would have been, had a gladius not sailed through the night air like a missile.

The soldier, Sellic, Ky thought, had been a little further away from the group, the instincts of an enlisted man separating himself from officers, or at least those outside his social strata, and the assassin had not been prepared for intervention in time to save the man.

The sword caught him high in the chest, the force of the blow lifting him off the ground and impacting him onto a tree a few steps beyond, the blade embedding deep in its trunk. The assassin’s hands scrambled against the blade, trying to free himself weakly as his life poured out.

Sellic didn’t hesitate on the sudden reprieve, but threw himself at another attacker, now fully awake thanks to the sudden reminder of his mortality.

Ky turned and saw an assailant clashing swords with Lucilla, his weapon longer and somewhat stouter than the short Roman blade she used. Ky moved with inhuman speed, a hand gripping the hilt of the weapon, over the man’s hand, while his other clamped around the man’s throat like a vise.

With a heave, Ky lifted the man off the ground and hurled him across the small opening where they’d camped. His superior grip wrenched the weapon out of the assailant’s hand, and the man smashed into a tree with a sickening snapping sound as his back impacted against the hard wood, slumping to the ground boneless.

Lucilla whipped around and found no one near them. Across the small clearing, a man fell off of Ursinus’s blade, the officer’s superior ability winning out. Sellic took a few slashes more, metal clashing on metal, before his opponent, too, went down, a wide gash opened across the man’s chest.

“Is that it?” Ursinus asked, peering into the dark, his sword at the ready.

Ky did not answer but bounded past him in a blur. For both his companions and the attackers, the night was inky black. With no fire, it would have been hard to see anyone unless you were practically on top of them.

Ky, however, was not limited by the shortcomings handed down by evolution. Even as he had dispatched his last attacker, he’d switched his vision from the low-light settings he’d used initially, which left the forest in almost daylight clarity, if a bit devoid of color, to thermal. With the low-light setting, he’d been able to see well enough, but that did not help him as much as he would have wanted in the thick foliage. Even in the middle of the day, it would have been difficult making out human forms more than a dozen feet away.

As his vision switched over, three more forms appeared as their warm bodies stood out stark about fifteen feet further back. Ky did not look back to see if anyone tried to follow him but plowed into the midst of the three remaining attackers.

They had all turned in his direction, swords raised, having heard Ky crashing through the forest. but until he was on top of them, none of the three could see the threat; not that seeing him would have changed their fate.

Ky ducked around the raised sword of the man on the left, his purloined sword sweeping down in an arch, the force from Ky’s enhanced muscles forcing the sharp metal edge through skin and bone. The man’s head flew off into the trees, as his body collapsed, blood spouting across his companions.

Ky did not hesitate, but continued his motion, spinning with the direction of the blade, bringing a booted foot into the chest of the middle assailant. The man flew back into the forest with such force that the smaller tree that brought him to a sudden stop cracked, leaning to one side. If slamming into the tree had not killed the man, the ribs pulverized by Ky’s foot now pushing into the man’s organs would have.

The third assailant finally had time to realize how desperate his situation was, as he saw his friends slaughtered in just half a handful of heartbeats. He started to turn, giving up any pretense of a fight.

His flight did not last long. He had barely finished turning away, one foot outstretched in the beginnings of a sprint, when Ky’s blade pushed through his side. The blade smashed through the man’s spine and came out the other side. His spine cut, the man, fell like a marionette with its strings cut, dead before he hit the ground.

“That’s all of them,” Ky called out, walking back towards the group.

“Are you sure?” Lucilla asked.

“Yes. Except for seven or eight horses off that way,” Ky said, pointing absently as he pulled the borrowed gladius out of both the tree and impaled man, “and our horses, we are the only living things around.”

“Siculus?” Ursinus asked.

Ky could see something that looked like it might be a cooling body, warmer than the ground around it but not quite the same signature as the three people still standing around him, off in the direction the soldier had been set up at.

“I can’t be sure until we go and check, but I’m pretty sure his body is out by the road. I’m sorry.”

Ursinus made a noise and said, “Let’s collect our belongings and get going. You might not be able to see any more, right now, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t more of them on our trail.”

Chapter 4

Carthaginian Army

Zaracas rode wearily, surrounded by officers and courtiers, near the head of the army. He was trying to keep from sliding out of his saddle. Normally, he traveled by litter, which was much more comfortable and appropriate for someone of his station. Maharbaal had been exceedingly clear that he wanted to crush the Romans before winter started in earnest and ended the campaigning season, preferably with enough time left to clean up the remaining Roman settlements.

So, he’d forgone his normal luxuries and was riding with the van of his army, pushing his men with long days of marching. His plan for the campaign had been arranged so they would only need to contend with taking two cities, Glevum and Devnum itself. Once he crushed the small Roman force still guarding their capital, at least according to their spies, he could set up defenses to prepare for the forces the Romans had sent north, and still meet the Governor’s timetable.

The first part of the campaign had gone well. Better, actually, as one of their spies tipped them off that the Emperor’s daughter would be near or in the city when they attacked. These things couldn’t be timed exactly, of course, but he’d lucked out and she’d arrived only after he’d taken the city and prepared his ambush. His men caught the Princess’s escort completely unaware. The attack had not been a total success, since she had escaped, but that was always a possibility, and he’d prepared for it. He’d had Arvad and a hundred cavalry mounted and waiting. As soon as she and a handful of guards turned and ran, while the rest of her escort provided a rear guard, he’d sent the mounted force in pursuit. Arvad was a good man, and that many men to capture, or at least kill, the girl and her handful of guards, should have been a simple task.

He was already picturing his victory as he rode near the head of his army. In less than ten days he would be at grips with the Romans and add their destruction to his tally of victories. With the way the Roman forces were currently deployed, there was simply no way they could stop him.

Of course, Maharbaal would manage to take most the credit for finally destroying their enemy and pacifying the island; that was only natural. This was, of course, common. The Exalted One knew of the practice. He - or rather, his ministers, since so few were allowed into the presence of The Exalted One - usually made a point to reward the commanders who actually achieved the victory. As the tip of the spear, Zaracas was confident his name would travel back to the holy court. Titles, riches and maybe even a governorship of his own, perhaps in one of the Germanic lands, awaited him. All he had to do was win one more decisive battle.

He was imagining the victory parade in Carthage, him at the head of Maharabaal’s columns, when a scout rode up at a gallop.

“General,” the man said, slapping a salute.

“Speak,” Zaracas commanded.

“We have … we have encountered the remnants of Arvad’s men.”

The words drew Zaracas up short.

“What do you mean, remnants?” he said, glaring at the man.

The scout’s eyes shifted nervously. Messengers who carried bad news often ended up on the sword point of an irate recipient. An old Carthaginian saying went ‘The bearer of ill tidings reports first to his commander, and then to the grave.’

Wiping sweat from his forehead, the man said, “Ten men from his detachment were stopped by our forward sentries. They were in full flight, telling stories of a god or a wizard, or something, falling from the sky and then throwing balls of fire.”

“Balls of fire? That’s ridiculous!” Zaracas said, looking first confused and then furious. “Bring these deserters to me. I will hear them explain their cowardice.”

Again the scout’s eyes shifted.

“There’s more, my Lord. We’ve found the site of a battle. There were several dead Romans but,” he paused, gulping visibly, “my men counted at least sixty of our dead. The bodies … many have holes melted, clean through them. We found one of Arvad’s officers; or rather, the bottom half of him, at least. He was … I don’t know how to describe it. His body looked as if he had been cut in half, and then the bottom half fused as if with a hot poker in a wound, except across the entire stump that remained of his body. He was still astride his horse, which was burned black. We have yet to find the top half of the man.”

“How?” Zaracas said, some of the fire gone from his voice as he tried to picture the scene and failed to understand how something like that could happen.

“We don’t know, my Lord. The fleeing men that we could get to talk said Arvad gathered the few men that didn’t run from the … destruction … and continued chasing after the girl and her guards. These men confirmed the girl was there, protected by a few surviving Roman soldiers, and the wizard.”

The man added the last part quietly, the words barely audible. Zaracas’s nostrils flared as he turned to one of his commanders.

“Send out more scouts. Find Arvad. NOW!” he bellowed and pointed at the scout. “Lead them to Arvad.”

The man saluted, turned, and spurred his horse after the staff officer, praising the gods that he’d somehow survived giving his report.

Zaracas frowned, fighting to regain his composure. He was as religious as the next man and followed the worship of Hexitas as expected, but he was also a pragmatist. If pressed, he would agree that the gods and their sorcerers could, if they wished, wander the earth handing out justice. That was something everyone accepted as a possibility. Zaracas had not encountered anything like that in his long years of service, and he had difficulty believing in what he couldn’t see.

As he rode on, the pain in his haunches was forgotten, lost in concern on how he would report this turn of events to the Governor. While he wasn’t worried about the girl getting word back to Devnum of the army’s march. She and her small group could outrun his army if they managed to elude Arvad. At this point, however, he would be upon the city before any reinforcements could arrive. He was more worried about how her escape would play in Londinium.

Maharbaal certainly had spies riddled throughout his army, meaning news of the ambush and the girl’s initial escape was almost certainly already on the way to the Governor. Zaracas would have to send a message back tonight after the army stopped. The only thing the governor tolerated less than failure, was trying to hide the failure.

Hopefully, Arvad would catch up to the girl and her ‘wizard,’ and solve the problem, eliminating the need to deliver a report of failure in person. Even generals had to fear delivering bad news to a Governor.

Forest Clearing, Ambush Site

They didn’t end up leaving in a hurry. As Ky had predicted, they found Siculus by the road, dead. His throat had been cut. Delaying here for any length of time was a risk, but they agreed to bury the dead soldier before they headed out. While his people no longer buried the dead in the ground, opting for cremation instead of interment, Ky didn’t object. He understood that superstitions were important to people; and, as a soldier himself, albeit a lot different than the Romans, Ky could appreciate Ursinus’s desire to do right by his man.

The ghastly chore was shortened once Ky understood what they intended and took over digging. With his enhanced muscles, even the rock-hard ground gave way quickly to his assault. In under an hour they were on the road, with several additional mounts in tow. The horses taken from the dead men would allow each of Ky and the three remaining Romans to change horses as their mounts got tired and extend their range without stopping for a break.

Not being acquainted with horses, Ky hadn’t understood that at first. A quick query to the AI told him that, unburdened, a horse could rest even on the move, recovering some from the fatigue that would eventually hobble the animal if it was forced to carry full-grown adults and supplies for long distances. Apparently, the real problem for the animals was not the amount of walking they did, but the load they were burdened with. Ky filed that information away since, if he was truly stuck here, he would almost certainly be forced to ride the beasts again.

Ky was also surprised when Ursinus announced they were taking a break shortly after leaving the forest behind them. The soldier indicated the small band should veer off the straight northerly course they’d traveled on the previous day and instead said they should climb a rise about a kilometer east of the tree line.

Ky was at first unsure of why Ursinus, who’d been quiet since the ambush, had called for a halt on the top of a hill that left them exposed. He watched as Ursinus turned his horse towards the south and raised his hand over his eyes to block the early morning sun.

Ky followed suit, altering his eyes for telescopic vision, slowly adjusting the magnification as he scanned the horizon, trying to see what Ursinus could have been looking for. His search took some time, needing to bring vision up to fifty times magnification to find what he was looking for, but then he saw it. A long line of men on foot, lightly armored, which seemed normal for the time, carrying shields and spears, was marching roughly in their direction.

“Do you see that?” Ursinus said, staring off into the distance. “Dust clouds like that need a lot of people to happen.”

The AI automatically worked up the calculations, with distances appearing in the corner of his vision, changing as he changed his focus.

“Yes. There is a large army moving north,” Ky provided as Ursinus squinted at the haze of dust on the horizon.

“You can see that, then?” the soldier asked, turning to look at Ky in surprise.

“Yes. I am able to see very far if needed.”

That was an understatement. Combat in space happened at kilometer ranges, and he was able to increase his vision by almost five hundred times if needed. He wouldn’t need all that power to see things on the ground, the horizon only stretching about a hundred and thirty kilometers or so. Barring obstructions, he should be able to see fine details on anything he needed to as long as he had a direct line of sight.

“Can you tell how far away they are?” Ursinus asked, still sounding unsure if Ky could possibly be telling the truth.

“About thirty-two kilometers.”

“Thirty-two what?”

Ky realized the last word had not translated, the standardized distances his people used were not used by people of this time.

“What measurements do they use?” he asked the AI internally.

“Romans measured distance by passus, with one thousand passus being equivalent to one point four eight kilometers. A note should be made that the translation is not exact, as standardization of measurement was not common at the time. While information on this version of Roman is unavailable, the similarities with historical records suggest a continuity of measurements between the two realities.”

“Just under twenty-two thousand passus.”

“Can you tell how fast they are marching, or how many there are? What about unit makeup? How much cavalry is there? Do they have siege weapons?”

“I can’t make out much beyond the front ranks at this angle, we aren’t high enough. One moment.”

Ky reached down and, at a mental command, a pocket opening along one thigh appeared. Reaching in Ky pulled out a small disk about the diameter of his palm and half as thick. A readout in one corner of his vision showed a string of data as the device came to life, a blueish glow showing along its edge.

After a moment, the device leapt from his hand and hurtled into the sky. The corner of Ky’s vision switched to a remote feed from the small drone, showing the ground and forest the small disc crossed over as it gained altitude, hurtling towards the army.

“What was that?” Lucilla said, again looking at Ky with an expression he wasn’t comfortable with.

“This is a small tool that allows me to see things from a … bird’s-eye view,” Ky answered, trying to come up with an explanation that would make sense to her.

“You can see down on them?” Ursinus said.

“Yes.”

Ky didn’t add that the drone could do more significantly more than just give him an aerial view. Things like sensor suites and multi-band imaging wouldn’t translate, no matter how Ky tried to explain them. He had to switch out of the visible spectrum already to see through the dust kicked up by the soldier’s boots, obscuring so much of the army.

“I’d say there are maybe twenty thousand soldiers, almost entirely on foot. There are no more than a few hundred men on horses. The men are mostly armed with spears, and lightly armored.”

“You can see what that thing shows you as it flies?” Lucilla asked, her voice tinged with awe.

“Yes,” Ky said, deciding there was no way to explain line of sight signal transfer would never translate, before switching back to finish answering Ursinus’s question. “I don’t see anything I’d call a siege engine, although there are large, much less organized groups following behind the soldiers. They look to be pulling wagons of various sizes.”

“That’d be their baggage train. How fast are they moving?”

“It’s hard to get an exact speed on something that spread out. Parts keep starting and stopping to catch up with the group in front of them, or to let the group behind catch up. I’d say, from where they are now, they wouldn’t reach us for a day and a half or so at their current pace, assuming they only stop for a few hours for rest.”

That last part was supplied by the AI, which had performed calculations based on the data from the drone.

“With us on horseback we should be able to triple that distance, if we push it, by the time we get home. I think it’s safe to say they are headed to Devnum since it’s the only major target in this direction. Their army will be, at best, four days out once we reach home.”

Ursinus’s face pulled tight after he said that, and he saw a severe frown form on Sellic’s face as well.

“That’s bad?” Ky asked, seeing their expression.

“Yes. Most of our legions are up north, dealing with an incursion by the painted barbarians. There are only two legions left to guard Devnum. Officially, that’s ten thousand men, but recruitment has been … bad for some time, and both legions are under-strength. I think we could field, at best, seventy-five hundred men, and that’s almost all infantry.”

Ky joined them in the frown. While he wasn’t up on the tactics of ancient armies, the likely result of such a wide disparity in forces was readily apparent. His hand extended as he thought about it, almost subconsciously, and retrieved the drone which flew directly into his grasp.

“We need to hurry,” Lucilla said, casting one amazed last look at the drone as Ky slipped the small, black disk back into the otherwise invisible pocket on his thigh. “They will need as much warning we can give them.”

Ursinus agreed and led them northward off the hill at a steady pace, faster than any of the men in the following army could manage, but slow enough to keep from wearing out the horses.

Carthaginian Army

Zaracas stood over the body, just outside the small clearing, the rage evident on his face.

He’d been a soldier since the day he hit puberty, learning at the elbow of his father, who was himself a General. He’d served as a junior officer in the final Persian campaigns, taking part in the battle of Zabol where they crushed the Arsacid dynasty for good. He’d fought back the German hordes that tried to push into Gaul and Thracia, personally killing the giant, ax-wielding Gervald. He’d led one wing of the landings on this damned island, to once and for all end the Romans.

In all that time he’d only seen men decapitated on the battlefield twice. Both times the mutilation had happened near the end of the battle, and in both instances, the event had been a gory affair with the men responsible hacking away to claim their prize a half-dozen times.

Arvad’s head, which they found a handful of paces away, had been removed with almost surgical precision. Headsmen rarely cut through the entire neck with a single blow, and yet clearly that’s what had been done here. What’s more, the sword still gripped in the dead man’s hand suggested that he hadn’t stood plaintively like one of the executioner’s victims.

No, this was like nothing Zaracas had ever seen.

On top of the unusual manner of Arvad’s death, all of the deserters from the clash in the swamp Zaracas had questioned, before he handed the cowards over to the priests for punishment, had confirmed that no more than five Romans escaped the swamp. If that was all that was left of the fleeing Romans, Zaracas couldn’t see how such a small force could have been able to slaughter Arvad and all his men. His trackers identified some dried blood near the road, along with a shallow grave, that suggested Arvad had taken at least one of them and confirmed his lieutenant had encountered the Romans. His scouts seemed fairly confident that had been a sentry. Arvad had been a good man, seasoned, with many offerings to Hexitas during his service. If he had managed to silence their sentry and set upon the handful of other survivors, how had things ended like this?

There were no answers to his unvoiced questions, not that he expected any. He just glared at the officer who’d found the carnage, his anger fuming. To the man’s credit, he didn’t flinch, despite the fact that many a messenger had fallen to Zaracas’ blade after delivering some particularly unwelcome message.

This time at least, Zaracas didn’t take out his frustrations on the messenger. He simply spun on his heels and headed back to the horses. He would get his satisfaction in less than a week when he crushed the Romans for good and sacked their pitiful city.

♦♦♦

Devnum

The small band cleared another rolling hill revealing a small city nestled up against what looked like a huge river or smaller lake. Thanks to maps the AI had downloaded, Ky knew this was actually an inland harbor, for all intents and purposes.

Docks covered one side of the city, as the settlement curved along the waterfront, with straight, orderly streets bracketing rows of houses covered in tile roofs radiating out from there in an uneven semi-circle. The town itself covered, at best, five square miles. A large open area sat at the center of town, with a rectangular building on the north side of the square that seemed to match images of temples from this time period. The south side of the open area had another large building, this one somewhat more squarish, with smaller buildings shooting off from it, connected by covered walkways.

The largest buildings in town looked to be two stories, and there was a small wall running around the edge of the city from water’s edge to water’s edge. The settlement seemed neat and clean, but smaller than Ky had pictured for the capital of what remained of the Roman Empire.

They had ridden hard to get here, sleeping only a handful of hours each night, rising early, and riding all day with few breaks except to switch mounts. They’d made good time, gaining enough ground that Ky was no longer able to see the army that had followed in their wake, but they all knew that army was there, which kept small talk to a minimum.

“Home,” Lucilla said.

“I see,” Ky said, not sure what else he could offer.

The world he grew up in was so different from the one he found himself in now. From the dome covered cities on Mars to the sprawling megalopolises on Earth to the space stations where he spent most of his life to this point. Anything Ky might say would sound condescending at best, as he unconsciously compared the small city to those of his time.

“Let’s hurry. Father was weak when we left, and that was days ago. I’m terrified we might already be too late.”

“Lucilla, remember, I said …” Ky started to say again when he was interrupted.

“I know, you offer no promises. You are still my best hope.”

With that, she spurred her horse and rode hard toward town. Ky looked at Ursinus, as he and Sellic led the extra horses.

“Take these to the guard stables and get some rest. Report to me tomorrow,” Ursinus said, handing the lead lines to the man.

The soldier nodded, unable to salute while holding onto all of the additional horses, “Yes, Optio.”

“Let’s go after her,” Ursinus said, and spurred his horse.

Ky gave one more glance to the soldier and the horses and did the same. They didn’t need to ride terribly hard, since Lucilla was apparently holding back, letting Ky catch up to her. They slowed as they entered the congested streets of the town.

While the city appeared small, at least in Ky’s reckoning, Lucilla’s home was full of activity, with stalls lining most of the streets and people traveling this way and that on various errands. As they rode past, many eyes turned to look at what was certainly the most well-known woman in town. Their attention lingering longer than normal as they took in her torn and dirty dress, and even paused again as their eyes fell to the strange foreigner with his odd almond-shaped eyes and bizarre dress.

The four of them were apparently quite the spectacle as people stopped to gawk and stare. More than once, Ursinus had to loudly shout to clear a path, sometimes punctuated with a solid smack from the flat side of his blade.

The continually updated map, fed with details barely noticed by Ky himself but dutifully recorded by the AI and shown in one corner of his vision, told Ky that they were nearing the open square at the center of the city when Lucilla pulled up at a sprawling complex of buildings.

Ky wasn’t sure at first if this was where they were headed, since the row of connected buildings, which appeared to stretch into the distance, seemed much too big to be a home for anyone, even the leader of a government. His doubt was short-lived as Lucilla slid off her mount and handed the reins to a man who had rushed out of the complex as soon as the group had dismounted.

Ky followed suit. He found Ursinus had done the same, adjusting his armor and sword as he moved to stand behind the Lucilla.

“Please, let’s hurry,” she said, sounding more frantic now that they had arrived.

She reached out and grabbed Ky’s hand, pulling him along in a rush as her other hand lifted the hem of her flowing skirt to keep from tripping as she ascended the steps leading into the complex.

“Open the doors,” she commanded, not even breaking stride as they passed the row of columns that stretched the front of the entire building.

The guards saw the seriousness of her face and jerked the doors open, to keep her from smashing into them in her headlong charge. They rushed past a multitude of people filling wide hallways, some having to leap out of the way to keep from being run over. Lucilla pulled him through a dizzying array of turns, finally stopping at an ornately carved door flanked by a pair of guards.

She was forced to pause as the guards hesitated, looking questioningly at Ky.

“Open it,” she commanded in a growl.

As with the earlier guards they didn’t question her, after seeing the expression on her face, and opened the doors, admitting them into a small antechamber currently filled with seven men, all looking serious. They were wearing elaborately wrapped sheets of fabric that seemed to be layered in some kind of specific style that was conspicuously different from the simple dress worn by Lucilla or the armored skirts worn by the Roman soldiers.

“Lucilla,” a man said in surprise, separating himself from the pack, “You’re back.”

“Caesius, how is he?” she said, releasing Ky’s hand.

“The physician says his time is soon. They are trying to purge him one last time, but none of them think it will help. The Senators and I were about to go in and begin the vigil.”

Lucilla turned to Ky, “I found someone that might be able to help.”

“Lucilla, haven’t we tried enough of these ‘cures.' He’s dying. Bringing charlatans isn’t going to stop that.”

“You don’t understand, this is different. He’s the …”

“Someone who said I’d try and help, but didn’t promise miracles,” Ky said, interrupting her.

“Did you come from the east?” One of the other men asked. “Your eyes almost remind me of some of the traders I met once before the trade lanes with the Rus were closed to us.”

“I’m from a bit further than that.”

“I don’t think …” the man named Caesius started to say before Lucilla cut him off.

“He is going to see Father.”

“I don’t think his visit will hurt, Caesius,” one of the other men said, his voice rumbling gravely. “The Princeps will die today if nothing is done. If this man turns out to be an incompetent or charlatan, he would only be accelerating the inevitable.”

“Fine,” Caesius said with a sigh, standing aside and sweeping an arm towards an inner door, “go.”

“Ky, please,” Lucilla said when he didn’t immediately step toward the door.

Ky gave another look to the man Caesius, whose eyes bored into Ky’s own, and then turned and headed into the room. A large bed sat against one wall, with a man flanking either side. The man on the left side of the bed had the arm of the man Ky assumed was Lucilla’s father. A small blade was in his hand, as blood dripped down the arm into a clay pot.

“What are you doing,” Ky demanded, seeing the man squeezing her father’s arm, forcing more blood out.

“My lady?” he asked, looking at Ky and then Lucilla in confusion.

“I’ve brought him to see Father. He might be able to help cure him.”

“Please step back,” Ky said, trying to hide the disgust at the ‘treatment’ he was witnessing.

“My lady, I don’t know what this man has promised you, but I can tell you your father is almost gone. He no longer wakes, and his breath comes unevenly. I promised your brother I would try everything, but he is too far gone for a final purge to help. Any potions this man has promised will do nothing.”

“Letting him bleed out will kill him faster,” Ky said, striding forward and pushing the man away, taking her father’s arm in his own.

“Guar…” the man started to yell, and then stopped as Lucilla moved up next to Ky.

“No. Clovius, please, just let him try.”

“Fine,” the man said pompously, stepping back, “but I will keep watch, to make sure he doesn’t try to kill the Princeps faster.”

Ky lay the man’s arm on the bed and reached into one of the small pouches in his flight suit, opposite from the side he’d retrieved the drone. The connective material separated easily as he lightly tugged on it. Drawing out a small flexible strip, Ky pressed it to the man’s temple and ran a finger over it. Lines glowed as the triage probe came to life, a visible sign that it was active.

“Begin analysis,” Ky subvocalized.

“Yes, Commander,” the AI said, and then fell silent.

Ky stood there for a full minute, silently watching as various diagnostic data played across his vision.

“Ky, what …”

“One moment please, Lucilla,” he said absently, his eyes flickering as he looked over the data, mental commands changing views as he tried to follow the AIs progress.

Ky wasn’t a medic, but all pilots had basic training with medkits. The AI had passed most of the things he had been trained to look into after the first twenty seconds, making him as much of a passenger as the man’s daughter.

“Commander, please move the triage probe over the cut on the man’s arm.”

Ky didn’t ask why, although he wondered about the AI giving what almost amounted to a command, something he’d never heard before. He simply moved the flexible strip and placed it over the cut. He had self-sealing bandages that would have been used on a bad enough cut, but the small slash created by the ‘physician’ wasn’t deep enough to require that.

Silence hung in the room as Ky, at least from the Romans’ perspective, simply stood over the man’s bed, occasionally laying a strip of strange cloth on the man’s arm.

“Commander, the subject is near total respiratory failure, caused by low levels of Aconite poisoning. Without treatment, the subject will asphyxiate in approximately three hours.”

“Can we cure it?” Ky sub-vocalized.

“Yes, Commander. An application of the medpatch from your kit will successfully remove the poison and reverse the damage done. Be aware your emergency kit contains only three medpatches, with no practical option for replacements. Caution should be considered in using critical, non-replenishable supplies.”

“I’ll take that under advisement,” Ky said, forcing his face to stay neutral as he silently communicated with the artificial intelligence. “Adjust the patch to his system and prep it for application.”

He reached into the same pouch as before and pulled out a small square, which he placed on the bare skin on the man’s arm. The patch contained a medical form of limited nanobots that could target programmed damage and conduct internal repairs. They weren’t tuned to the user and would be programmed to deactivate and be expelled through the normal excretion processes when they finished, since un-attuned nanobots would have to temporarily block the body from attacking them as a foreign substance. While they would boost the body’s natural defenses as they deactivated, long-term use of the nanobots would cause extreme immune responses if left active in the body.

Lucilla’s father was fortunate that Ky had medpatches at all. There had been discussions back and forth for years over removing them from a pilot’s standard-issue field kit since all pilots had genetically matched nanobots of their own. Ky couldn’t think of anything that might happen to kill all the nanobots in a pilot’s system necessitating the application of a one-time-use’ set of bots. Maybe a massive exposure to radiation, although the levels needed to shut down all the bots would certainly be instantly fatal to the pilot as well.

For now, however, they were still issued, which was lucky for the older man lying in the bed.

“Adapting to subject’s system. Additional bacterial infection at the site of the open cut detected, along with a minor arterial blockage. Program initiated to remove the poison, harmful bacteria, clear the blockage, repair organs damaged by the poison, and effect minor biological repairs. Estimated time to recovery, fifteen minutes.”

“Your father was suffering from Aconite poisoning,” Ky said, turning to Lucilla.

“What is Aconite?”

“Aconite is from an herb called Aconitum that is part of the Ranunculaceae. In this time period, the plant would have been referred to as Wolf’s Bane or Monkshood,” the AI supplied, helpfully, but without being requested.

“You would know Aconite as Wolf’s Bane or Monkshood.”

“Preposterous. Wolf’s Bane is very fast-acting. He’d be dead long before now if that were true,” Clovis said with a scoff.

Without being asked, the AI put up diagnostics information from the scan of the old man, with the relevant information to the man’s statement highlighted.

“The poison was highly diluted. The doses were extremely small, most likely to create the appearance of a more natural infection and to hide the true cause. If I had to guess, the most reasonable assumption for someone hiding the poisoning would be a deliberate assassination attempt,” Ky said.

Clovis looked unsure, more out of stubbornness than doubting Ky’s, or more accurately the AI’s, diagnosis.

“Will he live?”

“I’m sorry, my lady, but even in small amounts, Wolf’s Bane is always fa…”

“Yes,” Ky said, interrupting the man. “He will sleep for another fifteen minutes or so, and then he will be fine.”

“What?” Clovis practically roared.

“Really?” Lucilla said, much more hopefully.

“Yes,” Ky said, ignoring the physician, “really. I’ll step outside and let you sit with him. You should be with him when he wakes up.”

“Thank you,” she said, lifting herself up on her toes, throwing her arms around Ky’s neck and hugging him fiercely.

Clovis gave a look of almost disgust, turned, and stormed out of the room.

“Ignore him. He’s just bitter that you came in and did the impossible. Once they learn who you really are, they won’t question anymore.”

“Lucilla, please,” Ky warned.

“Deny all you want, but after this? You were sent by the gods. I’m positive now, even if you aren’t.”

Ky rolled his eyes but decided not to press the subject at the moment, saying, “I’ll be outside.”

Chapter 5

Ky shut the door behind quietly as he left, taking one last look at Lucilla sitting on a small stool next to her father’s bed, looking equally hopeful and worried as he continued to lie, unmoving. As the door shut and blocked the two figures from sight, he turned to find Clovis next to several of the men who’d questioned his presence before seeing her father. They had been listening to Clovis whispering to them, gesticulating wildly when Ky’s eyes fell on them. The group hushed instantly, returning his questioning gaze with much less friendly expressions.

“So after standing next to the old man for a few minutes and setting a few strips of cloth on him, you just declare you’ve figured out what’s wrong with him and you somehow miraculously fixed him?” The man Lucilla had called Caesius said, separating himself from the small group.

“If I am inventing my diagnosis for some reason, as you’re implying, wouldn’t I be disproved quickly? Your own physician here said he would die at any moment. If I am the fraud you seem to suggest, wouldn’t I be exposed as soon as he died?”

“You are an unknown who just happened to stumble across my sister and her party and come back with her in time to save Father. Maybe you have friends here who poisoned him and gave you the antidote.”

“My Lord,” Ursinus said, still standing close to the door, waiting on Lucilla, “I was there when he fell out of the sky. He saved us from Carthaginian soldiers not once, but twice.”

Caesius’ eyes tracked to the soldier, his gaze filled with poison, “And how did the Carthaginians overcome all of your soldiers, Optio? You travelled on one of the smaller roads, how did they find you?”

“My lord, are you suggesting …”

“I,” the younger aristocrat said, interrupting the weathered soldier, “am saying this situation is suspicious. From your initial report, it seems my sister was intercepted by Carthaginian troops who just happened to come across your trail. A man shows up to ‘save’ her, convinces her to bring him home to see Father, where he declares he has found a cure in a handful of minutes simply by standing next to him when our best physicians were able to do nothing. I would say that is suspicious.”

“If it had been a natural sickness, our treatments would have worked,” Clovis called out from the small group that now stood at Caesius’ back. “Even he had to admit it was poison.”

“My lords, you don’t understand,” Ursinus said, stepping away from the wall to stand next to Ky, “he fell out of the sky with wings of flame. He threw fire that melted a much larger force of Carthaginians. He threw a sword at a man, picking him off the ground and pinning him to a tree as if he were a flesh and blood Scorpio. My lady and I believe …”

“Ursinus …” Ky warned, seeing where he was going and wanting to stop the well-meaning soldier.

Ursinus was on a roll and waved off Ky’s objection, only pausing for the briefest of moments, “We believe he is the Sword of Jupiter.”

The low-level hum of whispering that had been passing between the small groups of men in the room outside of the confrontation stopped at the declaration. One person, Ky wasn’t sure which, his attention on the group in front of him, sucked in air in surprise. Caesius seemed more angry than shocked, however.

“Now you’re claiming to be some kind of god?”

“I didn’t claim anything!”

“Your lapdog did. I won’t stand for this blasphemy. I’m not sure how you managed to bribe an officer of the legion or my sister, but I must protect the people of Rome, and I will do my duty. I will not let you bring your lies and abominations into the palace nor bring any more honest citizens under your sway. Guards,” he shouted, “Arrest this man.”

Ursinus stepped forward, putting himself between Ky and the two guards who had been a few paces behind Caesius’ group, putting his hand on the hilt of his sword even as the two men began moving forward, hands going to their own weapons.

Ky grabbed the back of Ursinus’s cuirass and pulled the older soldier back a few steps, behind Ky. From his peripheral vision, Ky could see the surprise on the soldier’s face, but to his credit, the man didn’t flinch or fall. He just reset himself after Ky pulled him out of immediate danger, clearly annoyed but accepting of the move.

“Stop,” a voice called out from behind the group.

Shaky and raspy, the voice somehow retained a tone of command that cut through the sounds of the soldiers and murmurs of the crowd. All eyes turned to the bedroom doorway, to an old man leaning heavily on his daughter, unsteady but with a face as serious as any other man in the room.

“This man is here as a guest of your sister,” he said, taking a few shuffling steps forward with the help of Lucilla. “I will not have him accosted while he is under my roof.”

“Father, you should be in bed. Let me …”

“I’ll be fine. I want you to go summon the commanders. Your sister has brought back information from Glevum. Optio, would you take our new friend to the guest quarters.”

“Father, this man …”

“No,” the Emperor said, not willing to let the younger man get a single sentence finished. “You will follow my orders. Now.”

Caesius glared at Ky and Ursinus once more, turned, storming out, several of his friends following on his heels.

“Princeps, you should be resting,” Clovis said, moving to help hold up the older man.

“Yes, I think that would be for the best. Optio, please take our friend to his quarters for now, and then return. Lucilla has told me some, but I’d like to hear more about what happened since you left Devnum.”

Ursinus slapped a fist to his chest in salute and turned to Ky, “Come with me, please.”

Ky gave a smile to Lucilla, nodded at her father, and turned to follow the soldier out of the room.

♦♦♦

Londinium

Maharbaal sat on a large chair that rested on a slightly raised platform at the end of the audience chamber. This had been The Senate when the Romans had built it, years before. Maharbaal had not been in charge during the invasion five years ago, nor the capturing of Londinium two years after that. But once the Great One had decreed that the island would be a new province, he had assigned Maharbaal to see to the pacification of the island and final destruction of the Romans.

Maharbaal had been an active officer in the army with enough field experience to be acceptable to the commanders and high enough in the nobility to be acceptable to the council of lords. He also had the required experience since this was not his first experience in running a province. During the time Londinium was conquered he’d been a vice governor in charge of the southern region of Gaul where he’d just successfully put down a revolt. While he had all the qualifications to satisfy the upper levels of Carthaginian society that he was suitable for command in Britannia, Maharbaal did not consider the island suitable for him and had tried his best to steer the command to someone else.

The idea of leaving the mild weather in the southern parts of the province, its adequate supply of slaves and the proximity to Mediterranean ports had not appealed to him. He had been comfortable, and soldiers who returned from the invasion told stories of how miserable the island could be, with its harsher winters and frequent rain. Add that with the limited port traffic, due to the wilder nature of the seas around Britannia, and corresponding reduced taxes he’d be allowed to manage and personally profit off of made the entire notion taste foul to him.

However, the pacification of the southern third of the island had gone much faster and easier than Maharbaal had thought it would. In just two years, he had a secure base from which to launch the final invasion of the last remaining Roman cities. If he could manage to crush the Romans and the painted barbarians further to the north quickly, the Great One couldn’t help but notice his contributions. The rewards that come with favor from the Emperor were immense and would make up for all the hardships he’d been forced to deal with during his tenure as Governor.

“My lord,” A man said, standing just on the threshold of the audience chamber floor.

The Romans believed in an open seat of government, without doors or barriers to keep ‘the people’ separated from the body that made their laws. That, of course, had always been a farce. He’s seen the double-dealing and treachery from Roman nobles many times over in his career, finding them particularly easy to corrupt. The men who governed the once-mighty republic weren’t any more eager to let the people in on the process of government than any other nation’s ruling class. They liked the traditions of democracy, but in truth, those traditions were usually more symbol than fact.

Still, it ended up forcing Maharbaal to govern from a building without doors, which annoyed his sense of propriety.

“Come,” he commanded.

The man strode forward, carrying a pouch in one hand, his clothes covered in a layer of dust and smelling of horse. Normally, Maharbaal would not have suffered a soldier coming to him in such a state, and the penalty would have been severe for the man who offended his sensibilities. He had, however, ordered his men to report instantly any news from the front, and had been specific that any delay would be met harshly.

“How goes the campaign,” he asked the soldier, as the man handed over the pouch.

As nobly born as he was, Maharbaal had led enough armies to appreciate the perspective of the average soldier. Commanders had a bad habit of glossing over problems and hiding defeats.

“Very well, my lord. Glevum has fallen and our losses were light. Lord Zaracas already marches towards Devnum. Even riding my hardest, I will probably return to the army only a short time before the attack on the Roman capital begins.”

“Excellent. And Germanicus’ daughter? Was our spy’s information correct?”

“Yes, my lord,” the man said, a lot more warily than Maharbaal would have expected, his eyes darting, refusing to make contact.

Sitting up in his seat, his gaze burning into the man, Maharbaal asked, “We got her though, right? She is dead or in our hands?”

“No, my lord. We destroyed her escort, but she escaped with a handful of soldiers. Lord Zaracas sent men out to stop them, but there was a … umm … wizard.”

“Wizard?”

“That is what the men who ran from the battle, after they had caught up with the escaped Romans, said. I didn’t witness it myself, but I saw the bodies afterward. The wounds were … extreme.”

“What do you mean extreme?”

“Men cut in half. Holes melted through a line of five men in a single blast.”

“And you believe one man did that?”

“No, my lord,” the man replied, sensing rightly the answer Maharbaal was looking for.

“I do not want some Roman trickery, or the desecration the bodies of our soldiers, to scare Zaracas from the attack. Ride back to him and tell him he is to push the attack faster. In two days I will either have the head of their Emperor in my hands or the head of the man who failed to deliver it. Do you understand?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“You,” he said to one of the black-robed figures who’d been standing silently against one section of the tiered senate seating. “Take some men and return with him to the army. Make it clear to the General what will happen to those who fail me.”

The man didn’t speak, the face mask painted like a featureless skull dipping as he half bowed to the governor. The man’s neck was wrapped in black cloth, and the skin around his eyes rubbed black with charcoal, enhancing the skull-like appearance of him and the men with him. The messenger’s face turned ashen at the order but bowed as well and backed out of the chamber, casting side glances at the death cult members who drove fear into every Carthaginian.

♦♦♦

Devnum

Ky sat in the room Ursinus had led him to while the Emperor recuperated. It was so different from what he had known in what he was already thinking of as ‘his old life.' He couldn’t tell if the room was nice or plain. A bed sat in the center of the room, its mattress thin and hard. A few chairs and a small table were in an open area on one side, away from the bed, and a short, backless couch was close to the door, also against the wall.

Ky was sitting in one of the chairs going over the data the AI had sorted, trying to get a handle on what he was dealing with. The structure of who was in charge and how it worked was alien to him and he wanted a chance to understand what he was going to have to deal with, at least until he figured out what he was going to do.

The AI had reminded him of the importance of seeing records but considering how close things had come to blows outside of Lucilla’s father’s room, not to mention the two guards currently stationed on the other side of the room he was currently in, suggested this was not the time to go exploring. Ky was starting to accept he wouldn’t be going back home, intellectually if not emotionally, but he hadn’t figured out a plan for what to do now.

The AI had offered some options but they had all been generic to the point of being worthless. To be fair, they didn’t have enough information about the world they now found themselves in to get much beyond the generic theory stage. As someone whose entire life had been planned out since birth, assigned to a batch to be raised as a pilot and soldier, always given commands of where to be and what to do, the uncertainty was causing Ky a lot of trouble.

The idea of just finding a quiet place to live in obscurity didn’t appeal to him, but neither did getting involved in some war that he didn’t have a stake in either.

A knock on the door drew Ky out of his thoughts. Clearing the data currently overlaid across his vision, Ky stood and said, “Yes?”

The door opened and Ursinus came into the room.

“The Imperator would like to see you.”

“Okay,” Ky said.

He wasn’t familiar with the protocol in civilizations like this, but he was pretty certain an ‘invitation’ from the absolute ruler wasn’t something people turned down. Ursinus took Ky’s response as acceptance at any rate, and went back out the door, leaving it open for to Ky to follow. Ky had expected they would retrace their earlier path back to the Emperor’s rooms. Instead, however, they turned a different direction out of the guest room and down a winding set of corridors passing scores of unmarked doors.

Ursinus lead them through an external door and down one of the covered walkways Ky had noted earlier and into one of the external buildings adjacent to the larger one he’d entered originally. After a fairly short walk, Ky was led into a small room that contained a small table, currently covered in what Ky would have described as scrolls. There was another door in the adjacent wall and a large map on a third wall showing Britannia with a surprising degree of accuracy.

The most surprising thing in the room wasn’t what was in it, but what was missing. Specifically, any people other than the Emperor. Ursinus didn’t even come in, just gesturing Ky through the door, and then shutting it behind him. There were guards on the outside of the door, but it struck Ky as notable that someone this important for the Romans would meet alone with someone who was, essentially, a stranger.

“Sir,” Ky said, unsure of how he was supposed to address the man.

This also gave Ky his first indication of who the man was. The non-standard address did not go unnoticed, answered with a slight twitch of his eyebrow but otherwise left unaddressed.

“From Optio Ursinus and my daughter’s tales, I understand I owe you not only my own life but theirs as well. Before anything else, I wanted to thank you. Especially for saving my daughter.”

“You’re welcome,” Ky said, feeling awkward unsure of how to react in a situation like this.

The Emperor’s skin was still on the ashen side but considering the ordeal he’d been under that wasn’t surprising. Even with the medical nanobots repairing all the damage they could before their lifespan ran out, it would still take some time for him to get his strength back.

“That being said, I have many questions for you. I have been told of your unusual arrival and abilities, as well as the army currently marching towards us. Ursinus said he did not see that van of the army, just the detachment that was sent after him and my daughter, but that you were able to see them clearly and estimate their size.”

“That is essentially correct.”

“I know you are not one of my subjects, but I’d like for you to brief my legates on what we face. If Ursinus or I guess your estimate is really correct, we don’t have much time to come up with a plan of defense. Of course, if we could add a fantastic new weapon to our arsenal …”

“Sir, I was happy to help you and your daughter but I think I need to explain my situation. This is not my home and I do not want to get caught up in your war. I sympathize with your situation but I just want to get back to my own home. As for the abilities and tools that were described to you, I made it clear to your daughter and her guards that they had a limited amount of uses. I couldn’t defeat an army by myself, even if I had to.”

“While I’m sad to hear that, I can understand why you wouldn’t want to get involved in our war. Could I impose on you for one more request and ask that you give my legates your first-hand account of what we are up against. You would still have plenty of time to get out before the assault begins and it would help my people immensely.”

The look in the man’s eyes suggested he wasn’t exactly forthcoming but Ky wasn’t a good enough reader of people to be able to pick out his true motives. On its own, the request didn’t seem to be asking too much. It wouldn’t hurt to tell them about what he’d seen and his conscience made it hard for him to just leave these people to their fate without at least letting them know what they faced.

“I can do that.”

“Excellent,” the man said, his face breaking into a grin. “We should get to it, then. If I could trouble you for your arm? I’m still feeling quite weak.”

To punctuate the request, the man put out a hand. Ky stepped forward and helped the older man to his feet. Older was actually probably not accurate. While the Emperor was older than many of the people he’d seen in this time period so far, he was certainly not as old as Ky himself, at least in the strict chronological sense. Visibly the man seemed significantly older than Ky, and he doubted anyone from this society’s technological level would understand the age extending abilities of the society Ky grew up in. If he had to guess though, Ky would put the man’s age in the high fifties.

In a more modern era, that might not seem so old, especially in his time when lifespans could last hundreds of years. In the time he currently found himself, however, with the lack of any real medical knowledge and much harder lifestyle, the body started breaking down significantly earlier and much more rapidly. For this time, when people had children in their teens, fifty was well past middle age and heading toward being elderly.

What the man didn’t know, at least not yet, was that thanks to the large number of repairs the medical nanobots would perform before they deactivated, he would live far longer than anyone in his current society would have been capable of, barring unnatural causes of course. As he pulled the man up Ky couldn’t help but notice how light he was. A lot of that would be caused by not eating for so long, combined with the purges the doctors kept foisting on him. The idiotic practice would have made him weaker, and his system more exposed to wearing down. While it hadn’t killed him, the combination had reduced the man to skin and bone.

“Sir, after a good night’s rest, you will feel much better. It’s important that starting tomorrow, you eat very well for the next several days. It will help you regain your strength.”

“My daughter said you claimed to be a warrior, and yet here you are giving advice like a physician,” the Emperor said with a chuckle as Ky helped him towards the unopened door.

“I am a soldier; but my people, or at least those of us trained as soldiers, receive basic field medical training. I understand the equipment I used to treat you and the need for basic things like making sure you get enough to eat to heal properly, but I don’t know how the equipment I used was created nor every specific of how it actively fixed your injuries.”

“I’d be very interested in hearing more about your people.”

“I … I’m not sure it would make a lot of sense, at least not now. I come from a place that is so different that it would be difficult for you to understand most of what I would tell you.”

“Yet you claim to not be a god.”

“I’m not. It’s … I’m not sure how to explain this. Say you found an ancient tribe of your early ancestors, from before you formed any kind of civilization. If they had not harnessed fire, how would you explain a lamp to them? If they had not tempered metal, how alien would your sword seem? Yet to you, these are simple tools everyone around you understands.”

“That is an interesting point that brings to mind many more questions which, unfortunately, must wait for now.”

The Emperor opened the door they had been walking towards which in turn lead into a much larger room with a giant table in the center. On the table was another of the detailed maps of the island, although a larger version of it. Surrounding the table were a half dozen men that Ky didn’t recognize. Although he wasn’t sure why, he found himself disappointed that Lucilla wasn’t present. Considering for a moment this era of civilization’s views on women he guessed that shouldn’t have been so surprising. He was happy to see Ursinus was present, although near the back of one of the groups of men.

Ky helped the Emperor into a chair at the head of the table that looked to have been placed there especially for the Emperor, since there were no other chairs in the room at all.

“Gentlemen, I trust you have all received the optio’s report on what he witnessed outside Glevum and of the Army currently headed in our direction.”

“Yes,” a man wearing what, to Ky’s untrained eye, seemed to be extremely ornate armor said. “I want to again say I find it unlikely that they were able to get any significant army this deep into our territory without our getting reports other than the one the optio brought us. None of our outposts have reported anything suspicious, and our spies have not reported any significant build-up in the territory controlled by the Carthaginians.”

“I am not one who normally would disagree with the venerable Globulus …” a younger man started to say.

“Then don’t,” the older legate shot back.

“Continue,” the Emperor said, waving him off.

“We have received very little from our spies in Carthaginian territory, and what we have received has been, at best, innocuous. Since shortly before the time their Army would have had to start marching, we’ve received nothing from our outposts.”

“Only one of those is overdue with their regular report. We have at least a day before we expect to hear from any of our other southern outposts,” the older legate countered.

“True. However, if we wait until they are also late to react and the Carthaginian army is headed here they will be upon us before we’ve had any time to prepare. If I were their general I would have moved my army up fast and sent cavalry to cut off any messages they might get out to keep us in the dark.”

“That’s assuming they knew where our outposts were ahead of time.”

The younger man made a palms-up gesture of agreement but continued, “Also true, but we can’t assume everything is fine. They didn’t manage to conquer so much of the known worlds by doing what was expected or easy. If we prepare our legions now and nothing happens, we will be fine. If we don’t, and they are on their way, however …”

“The money it takes to put a legion in the field is not a light consideration, Velius. We have to load them with food, get the baggage trains ready. Many of my men are working their farms. I can’t pull them from their livelihood on a whim.”

“You mean you can’t pull them off your farms they work in servitude, you …”

“Velius,” the Emperor said curtly, cutting off the younger legate.

The shot had hit its mark in spite of warning as Globulus’ face turned bright red and his lips pursed. He, however, managed to keep from responding to the younger man as his Emperor’s eyes bore down on him. There seemed to be something more to their argument but Ky didn’t have enough experience in this timeline to work out the specifics. It would have been something for him to look into if he had decided to stay, since it hinted at a very concerning military structure, or at least problems without the chain of command. Since he wasn’t planning on staying and getting involved in their battle he instead pushed it aside and waited until he was called upon.

“For the moment, I agree with Velius. We have to proceed on the basis of the Carthaginian armies being in the field and headed towards us. Besides Ursinus here who has, I think you’ll agree, always proven himself reliable, we have additional information as well. I’m sure you’ve all heard of our interesting visitor by now. Apparently, he was able to see more of their army and I asked him to share that information. Ky?”

“Yes, sir,” Ky said and saw a few brows furrow at his choice of address. Ky made a note to find out what leaders were supposed to be called in this time since falling back on military tradition was clearly not working. “I saw a single large army, composed of just under twenty thousand men, and two distinct groups of cavalry. One group was at about two hundred and the other about five hundred men. The men were lightly armored, at least compared to the equipment I’ve seen on your soldiers so far, mostly carrying long spears and swords somewhat shorter than the ones I’ve seen your men wielding. When we saw them, they were marching towards the forests south of you heading in a straight path here.”

Ky’s finger pointed to a spot on the map that the AI helpfully tagged for him.

“At the pace they seemed to be keeping they should arrive here in the next two or three days, assuming they haven’t stopped along the way. With that mass of men, I don’t think they should be expected much earlier unless they separated their cavalry and baggage train into three groups moving independently of one another.”

“Preposterous,” Globulus said. “The Carthaginians couldn’t get that many men in the field without us knowing. Hell, I doubt they could field that many men at all. They don’t have the logistical base and they don’t have the manpower, at least not on Britannia. Our agents would have noticed that many men being brought ashore.”

“We’ve had some word that their pacification of the Iberian uprising has ended, which would free up some troops,” a man that had yet to be identified said.

“Bah, reports sold by men more interested in coin that giving accurate intelligence.”

“Legate, I wouldn’t report rumor as fact, I hope you know that. I have independent confirmation from one of my agents in the provincial government. He hasn’t been able to report on any troop movements, but he did report the pacification is complete and the provincial governor sent correspondence to Londinium.”

“You have no way of knowing what was in that correspondence Ramirus,” Globulus said.

“True, but we can’t dismiss it out of hand.”

“Imperator, you have said I need to mobilize my forces. There is much I need to do to carry that order out.”

The Emperor frowned but nodded, saying, “Fine. Get your men ready to move and arrange for the supply of them. We will meet tomorrow where I want options on what we can do to stop the Carthaginians.”

The man slapped fist to chest and headed out the other doors trailed by four men who hadn’t spoken, at least not while Ky had been in the room.

“My lord, we will need to coordinate our forces if we stand a chance. If the numbers are accurate, and I don’t see why we have reason to believe they aren’t, they will have double the forces we will be able to field.”

“I know Velius. Work with him as best you can. Bring me a plan that gives us a chance of stopping this army. Now go, you need to prepare your men to march as well.”

“Yes Imperator,” the younger man said, making the same salute as his older colleague and left, flanked by the other men in the room leaving only Ky, the Emperor, Ursinus, and the man identified as Ramirus remaining.

“Ramirus, this is the man who came back with my daughter and the optio,” he said, waving in Ky’s direction. “Ky, this is Arruns Lucilius Ramirus, my spymaster.”

“Ahh, the man who fell out of the sky,” Ramirus said, stepping back and cupping his hand around his chin in a thoughtful manner. “I’m interested in how you were able to get such a clear look at the Carthaginians when the Optio, Lucilla, and the Legionnaire could not see them at all.”

“I have the ability to see significantly further than the average Roman.”

“How much further is significantly further?”

“Ramirus, let us focus on the problem at hand,” the Emperor said, seeing the uncomfortable expression on Ky’s face, and interrupting.

“Yes, Princeps. Was there anything to your observations that you didn’t share with the optio?”

“No, I told him everything I saw. It was a fairly large grouping of men. I’m not familiar with the various units used by the Carthaginians, so I’m not sure what specifics beyond a general description of their armaments, numbers, and speed I can offer.”

“According to Ursinus’s report, it sounded as if the force was mostly infantry with a small component of cavalry?”

“Yes. At least from what I could see. Although, the army was moving past a wooded area at the time, so it’s hard to say how much more could have been present but obscured to me.”

“Was the cavalry heavily armored?”

“No. The horses were just horses, and the men looked to be wearing similar clothing to the marching men.”

“Light cavalry then. Reports from our agents in Londinium indicate that’s the only mounted force Maharbaal had stationed on Britannia itself. I’d find it much more believable that he managed to sneak imported infantry without us knowing than I would that he managed to do the same with heavy cavalry; although I still haven’t heard from the man I have in their docks, or my contact inside their military. Both have gone silent, forcing us to rely on reports from agents further out.”

“Considering the army heading towards us, I find the timing of your missing spies suspicious,” Ursinus said.

“That’s because you’ve always been a clever man,” Ramirus replied. He looked at the Emperor as he added, “I would also say that the timing of your poisoning is of concern, my lord.”

“What concerns me is how thoroughly this suggests your operations here have been infiltrated. Not only did the Carthaginians apparently learn enough about what you’ve been doing to silence, if not kill, any agents you had that would see their invasion coming, but they also managed to get close enough to poison me.”

“My lord, I don’t think my operations have been infiltrated, at least, not inside my organization.”

“Why not?”

“Because, if they got close enough to have that information, they would have been able to shut down the rest of my agents as well; which they haven’t done.”

“They could have left them in place on purpose,” Ursinus offered.

“Maybe, but I don’t think so. The Carthaginians in general, and Maharbaal in particular, have never been much for subtlety. Had they infiltrated my organization enough to get the names of those agents, they would have eliminated all of them.”

“Then what is your explanation?”

“I think someone inside your council has been turned.”

“What?” the Emperor said, sitting up suddenly and then slouching back, as the action took its toll on his still weakened body.

“I know you don’t want to hear it, my lord, but it is the only explanation. Someone who got inside my organization would not have been close enough to poison you. Your food tasters didn’t get poisoned, so it’s unlikely it came from someone inside the kitchen. This means it had to be someone from inside your circle, or a servant that had direct access to you. None of those servants, and most of the politicians in your circle, were privy to my reports. The only people that would be able to both poison you, and read or heard my reports, are on your council.”

“I don’t think …”

“My lord, I know I am not one of your personal guards, but everything Ramirus said, fits.”

The Emperor started to reply angrily again but paused looking thoughtful.

With a sigh, he slouched all the way back into his chair, “Ursinus, you’ve been in charge of my daughter’s guard since she was a little girl. Take the fact that I trust your judgment with the person I treasure the most in the world, as proof of my confidence in you. Despite how sour the idea tastes I can’t fault either of your reasoning.”

“You of all people should know that what you want and what is true are rarely twinned … at least, when it comes to ruling a country, my lord.”

“That is the truth. Ursinus, I think my daughter would want you back soon. Thank you for your detailed reports and for keeping her safe.”

“That wasn’t all my doing my lord.”

“I know, and I will make sure this legionnaire of yours is properly rewarded.”

“I meant …”

“I know,” the older man said, waving off the soldier’s objection. “Go for now and accept my thanks.”

The soldier gave what Ky now recognized as the Roman salute and turned and headed out of the room.

“My lord, if I can, I’d like to ask Ky more questions about …”

“I have no doubt you would. There is a lot we would all like to know about our new friend here but I still need to speak with him before I turn him over to the wolves. For now, do what you have to do to find out who in my council has betrayed us.”

“Yes, my lord,” the man said with a bow.

Giving one last look at Ky, he turned and headed out of the room, leaving the two alone in the room, if you didn’t count the guard standing by the door, who had kept his eyes steady upon Ky since he’d entered with the Emperor.

“Ky, would you take a walk with me? I am still unsteady on my feet, but I think some fresh air would do me good.”

Ky frowned. He’d hoped he would have been able to leave by now and gotten permission to look through the library for the information the AI had missed and figure out his next move, but the Emperor was right. Some fresh air might be good for him and Ky felt somehow responsible for the older man’s health now that he helped him.

“I’d be happy to.”

Chapter 6

Ky helped the Emperor out of the chair with the older man gripping Ky’s forearm even after he was standing. Subtly signaling by pulling or pushing on his arm, he directed Ky out of the building the meeting had been held in and around the periphery of the large open square at the heart of the city.

Already Ky could feel a difference in the Emperor’s condition. The man was no longer putting his entire weight on Ky in order to walk and he was notably more steady on his feet. The nanobots had a few hours left in them before they deactivated, and his body was already healing rapidly. By tonight, he would feel as well as he had before the poisoning and by the next morning, he’d feel close to how he’d felt as a young man.

“I am curious, what are your plans now?”

“Sir?”

“You said you weren’t able to stay here and help us in the coming battle, that you hadn’t been sent to help us. That would mean you were here for another reason. I was curious what that was.”

Ky hesitated for a minute before replying, looking at the people around him going about their lives in the open plaza. He wasn’t sure what he should say. While he was certain there was no way that someone from this time could really understand the full story of how Ky ended up here, there was also not a good reason to hide anything.

“It’s … I didn’t come here on purpose. I was testing out a new invention for my people when something went wrong and I ended up here instead. I am nearly certain I won’t be able to return to my … to where I came from so now my main goal now is to learn enough about this place to figure out what I need to do now.”

“So you plan to learn from us for a time and what? Journey into the wilderness where no people live and create a small farm? Find a cave to hide out in?”

“No, or … I’m not sure. I just don’t know enough about this place to know what my best course of action is.”

“From what you’ve said to me and to my daughter, you seemed pretty certain you didn’t want to become involved with ‘local’ affairs, and yet anywhere you go, any city or community you live in, will make you part of the ‘local’ affairs. It’s the nature of being alive. That is only answer that would make sense based on your stated desire. The only way to live apart and unconnected is to live in a cave or in the deepest unknowns away from all other living souls.”

“That’s … honestly, I haven’t really thought this through. Living in a cave or in some forest all by myself doesn’t sound like what I want either but I’m not sure getting involved in someone else’s war is the right thing to do. We’ve just met and while I’ve been impressed by your daughter and all the Romans I’ve met, I only have your side of what is happening. Not that I disbelieve you of course but it doesn’t seem right that I come here and immediately pick sides in someone else’s conflict.”

“That is an excellent point. Of course, anything I say on the subject would be biased towards my people. All I can say to that is you have to look at the sum total of your experiences with my people and the sum total of the experiences with theirs. There’s a reason you decided to aid my daughter over her attackers. It’s up to you if your judgment then and now is flawed.”

“I have been considering that. The issue remains the same as with the question of where I go from here. I don’t know enough about this place to make an informed decision. I’ve been mostly looking at short-term goals like landing safely, getting your daughter back here alive, and helping you. I did have an alternative motive for coming back here. My hope had been that, if I helped you, I’d be allowed to look through any records or archives you have.”

“I will, of course, be happy to grant you access to our libraries and make any of my scholars available to you as you need. Of course with the army that I am certain is heading this way I can only promise aid so long as I still have cities to command.”

Ky didn’t respond since there wasn’t much he could say. The Emperor wasn’t wrong, and it had been something that had already occurred to Ky, but he hadn’t yet figured out what he was going to do about it.

“What do you think of my people so far?” the Emperor asked.

“They seem like all people everywhere. Some are good people and others … less so.”

“That’s true enough, I guess. I can promise you though for every man like Globulus there are many, if not more, like Ursinus who live their lives and try to do the best they can.”

“Not to be rude, but what is your point?” Ky said, trying to make the statement not come off as harsh as it might otherwise sound.

“Yes. My point is you have to end up somewhere unless you’ve changed your mind on the cave thing. Again, I cannot deny my bias, but I would say here is as good as any other place you might find.”

“As you said though, you are biased. I’m not sure picking the first place I end up is the best option.”

“Do you believe in destiny?”

Ky paused again. He was starting to find it disconcerting how the man kept changing topics unexpectedly in the middle of a conversation on one thought to another. Of course, Ky knew the Emperor was making a point by tying multiple thoughts together, to convince Ky to do what the Emperor needed him to do. Ky was, however, a soldier. He wasn’t a politician or a diplomat and wasn’t used to verbal maneuvering.

“I don’t know,” Ky said eventually, since it wasn’t something he’d ever considered.

“You don’t know if it exists or you don’t know if you believe in it?”

“My people are very practical. We don’t spend a lot of time on fate or destiny or control by a higher power.”

“So, you just happened to end up here then?”

“Yes. A lot of things went into my coming across your daughter. Any one of them could have caused me to end up somewhere else. I could have just as easily arrived among the Carthaginians or out in the middle of nowhere by myself, or some other option.”

“Yet you didn’t. You ended up with my daughter, just in time to save her, and then agreed to travel with her here, where you were able to assist her a second time and pull me from the gateway to the underworld.”

“That’s just coincidence though. I made choices at each step, any of which could have been made differently.”

“Maybe or maybe you’re right where you should be. I know my daughter told you of the stories surrounding the Sword of Jupiter and I know you don’t believe in them, or at least you don’t believe they relate to you. That doesn’t mean they aren’t true and you aren’t the answer to our problems.”

“I’m just one man. I know a lot of the things you’ve seen me do, or heard of me doing, have been spectacular. I promise you, I can’t just keep doing them all on a whim. I’m not sure how I can help your people.”

“You can bring them hope. Despite what my son and some of my legates think, my people are on the verge of being wiped from history. The Carthaginians have too much power and we’ve been pushed as far as I think we can go. If not now, then in the next few years I am afraid my people will be no more. I’ve always believed that with just a little luck we could reverse the tide of what has happened and push the Carthaginians off Britannia. We just needed something to change the path we’re on.”

“From what I’ve seen and heard you would need more than a little luck. The forces stacked against you are enormous and your people are small in number. I’m not sure one man, even someone with the knowledge and tools I have at my disposal, could turn that around.”

“Look around you,” the Emperor said, sweeping his arm across the square.

Ky looked around and noticed a lot of faces were looking back at the pair of them as they made their way slowly around the perimeter.

“They are watching their leader. I would think that’s pretty common.”

“Yes and no. I know my people. I make this walk often when I need to clear my mind. They are used to me being here. Other than the occasional glance, they normally go about their business. Many have not looked away since we started walking. They stopped and continue to stare and they’re not staring at me.”

“I realize my clothes and height make me stand out.”

“They do, although that only feeds into it. I guarantee by now the word of your arrival has started to spread, along with the story of how you helped my daughter. Many of those who haven’t heard her conclusion have certainly reached the same idea on their own.”

“But it’s not true.”

“Truth is a unique thing. At first glance, it seems all things exist as either true or not. The sun will arrive in the morning and travel across the sky until its journey is finished. The tides will come in at night and retreat again in the morning. Fire will burn and snow will freeze. At a second glance of these things, it becomes clear that these things aren’t always true or false. We know at times the sun goes dark in mid-day, the tides do not always come and leave at the same times or at the same height. Fire can be applied to wood or thatch and if it is wet enough it doesn’t light and the coldest snow will cause your skin to feel as if on fire. Truth changes.

“There are explanations for why all those things happen though.”

“If I was to ask that merchant if he knew the explanations, and he said no, would things be different or remain the same. Truth is what it needs to be. You might not be the one sent by the gods but if you stay and help us wouldn’t the story be fulfilled all the same.”

“It would be a lie though,” Ky said again, not allowing the old man’s rhetoric to take the point from him.

“If the Sword of Jupiter is meant to save us, you are hailed as the Sword sent to save us and then help us be victorious, wouldn’t you have fulfilled the prophecy, making it in fact true.”

“I don’t …”

“I realize I’m playing with words but you see my point. Just because things aren’t true now doesn’t mean they will always be false. The first step to making it true is by giving my people hope, something they can rally around. Even if you leave and the circle never completes isn’t there value in giving people hope?”

“I …”

“Look up there,” the Emperor said.

Ky looked where the Emperor was pointing. They had made the way around the square and were back to the palace, or whatever, where they had originally started. On one of the upper floors of the palace was a balcony where Ky was surprised to see Lucilla leaning against the railing. She’d been watching their progress and made eye contact with Ky when he looked up at her, smiling and offering a small wave to him.

“She has faith in you. It doesn’t matter if you believe you were sent by the gods or not. It doesn’t even matter if I believe you were sent by the gods. What matters is that people like my daughter, people like Ursinus, or any of my people who by now have heard of your arrival believe. Hope is a powerful thing, my friend. If this army is as large as you say it is, we will need hope if we are going to win.”

“I can appreciate that but like I said I’m not here to pick sides.”

“You already have.”

“What?”

“Others saw you when you defended my daughter and her guards. Word would have spread back by now and I can tell you one thing’s for sure, the Carthaginians do not forgive easily. To them, you’ve already declared the side you’re on. Unless we go back to discussing the finer points of caves, that leaves you with the painted barbarians in the north or finding a way across the sea into the territory controlled by the various Germanic tribes. You declared yourself an enemy of the Carthaginians the moment you killed one of them. The only way to keep from picking sides is to go where there are no Carthaginians.”

“Hmm,” Ky said noncommittally.

He hadn’t considered that but it made sense. Too many Carthaginians who survived the encounter would have spread word of his arrival, especially considering how notable it had been: falling out of the sky apparently surrounded by flame. Even though everything he did since landing in this time had been his own decision, he couldn’t help but feel a little cornered by the Emperor now, as the man cataloged the ramifications of his decisions.

“Of course, there’s the other reason you should help us.”

“Which is?”

“You are a good person. That’s been obvious from the moment I met you and heard about what you’ve done. Look at my daughter. Look at the people around you. How would you feel if you left and heard about the Carthaginians overrunning my troops and conquering the last of us? The men and infants slaughtered, the women raped and sold into slavery with the children.”

And that, of course, was the thing that had been bothering Ky all along. He’d hidden behind his lack of knowledge of the time, behind his not being what these people apparently thought he was. The Emperor had seen right through him to his biggest fear!

Ky still didn’t like the way the Emperor was maneuvering him into agreeing, and he still didn’t think he had anything tangible to offer these people, at least not in the short run with the battle just days away.

“I’ll consider what you said. You really should go rest so you can finish healing,” Ky said.

The Emperor didn’t say anything right away. Instead, he had Ky lead him towards his rooms and help him into his bed, waving off the servants that moved to intercept them. Ky turned to leave, with the Emperor’s eyes drooping. His system was taxed from the walk, still needing most of its energy to repair the damage done by the poison.

“Ky,” the Emperor called out as he started to leave, stopping him in his tracks. “Don’t think too long. My people won’t survive it.”

♦♦♦

Carthage Camp

“ … upon pain of death,” the courier was saying, ignoring the glower coming from Zaracas or the occasional glance at the two dark, cloaked men standing a few paces behind the courier.

Although Zaracas had never enjoyed being micromanaged by far away superiors, outside of the theater of action these weren’t unusual orders. The Great One, and those he deemed fit to control the various provinces that made up the Carthaginian Empire, had little patience with failure. The attrition rate for unsuccessful generals had always been high.

The threat, however, was usually less explicit. The additional unspoken message, in the form of the two Acolytes of Hexitas in their death masks and black robes, was even more unusual. What made Zaracas curious was why it was necessary. There wasn’t anything he was aware of that would make this a particularly pressing campaign, at least not that required this level or reminder of the penalties for failure.

Which, of course, meant politics was into play. That was an area Zaracas avoided, as much as a general could. The one thing more deadly than battle in the Carthaginian Empire was politics. It was conducted with a sense of ferocity that would have made the hardest front line soldier blanch.

“I understand the Governor’s requirements. We will attack in three days and victory is a certainty. They have only two legions to stand in the way of our forces. I will smash through them and deliver the end of the Romans, once and for all.”

“What of this ‘wizard’?” one of the acolytes asked, his voice deep and rumbling, sounding like metal being pulled over gravel.

Zaracas was never sure why these people always felt like they had to sound so ominous. Either they practiced the speech pattern in their twisted apprenticeships or the Emperor only brought people with major throat damage to join the brotherhood. The general had not met many of the cultists and most of those rarely spoke, but the few times he’d had the misfortune to communicate with them, the men had always sounded similar.

“A man who throws fire from his hands and snapped men in half? Absurd. A coward’s excuse for running.”

“We have reports of the mutilation of the bodies.”

“You of all people should know damage like that doesn’t require special powers.”

“I also know it takes time. Your reports show Romans running as soon as their way through our soldiers was clear.”

“More exaggerations on the coward’s part. It doesn’t matter. Even if they do have this wizard, they cannot stop us. My forces will roll over the Romans and grind their bones into the dust.”

“For your sake, I hope so General or you will envy the fates of the mutilated men.”

Zaracas was a hard man, but the threat chilled him to his very core. He could never tell one of the cultists from another and normally he considered them with little more than contempt. Yet their cruelty and fanaticism wasn’t something even he could ignore. A direct threat from one of them would have scared the bravest of men.

“Go tell the section leaders we leave at first light. Any man who slows the advance will answer to me.”

The messenger saluted and left the tent at a sprint, giving the acolytes a wide berth.

“You can assure the Governor in three days the Roman capital will burn.”

“We will be traveling with you, General. To … observe on behalf of the emperor.”

The chill in Zaracas’s soul intensified at the news, but he kept his face passive, refusing to give the sadistic bastards the satisfaction of seeing how effective their threats were.

Instead, he replied with a nod; while secretly hoping the stories of the Wizard were as inflated as he had stated so confidently, moments before.

♦♦♦

Devnum

Ky sat on the floor, sheets of leathery documents the AI had called ‘velum’ spread out in front of him. The Emperor had seen to it that he received stacks of histories and other documents, to help Ky start learning what he didn’t know about this time and place. In reality, he wasn’t learning so much as he was facilitating the AI in gathering data that it could analyze and use to provide Ky with answers. All he had to do was glance at a document for the computer to capture all the information on it and add it to its databases. Already he had read what would have taken the average Roman years to cover. Twice he’d sent one of the guards assigned to his door, whether for his protection or to ensure Ky didn’t wander unaccompanied he wasn’t quite sure yet, for more documents.

“Anything?” he silently asked the AI.

“Yes, Commander. There seems to be a clear pattern of deviation approximately thirty years prior to the conflict our histories classified as the second Punic war.”

“What was the point of deviation?”

“There were large-scale influxes of nomad tribes into the lands controlled by more sedentary Germanic tribes and the northern edge of the Roman republic. While migratory influxes of nomads were an ongoing problem for the Romans throughout their history in our timeline, the volume of the influx is magnitudes greater.”

“How did that cause the Romans to lose to the Carthaginians?”

“Prior to the invasions by Hannibal, the Romans were forced to combat the incursion of the tribes from the east. While this was not an uncommon occurrence throughout Roman history, these texts suggest the incursion was by a larger group of invaders than historically experienced by the Romans. Their losses in these conflicts were significant, consuming large portions of both the available Roman manpower and their treasury. A similar dynamic happened in our own history hundreds of years later, involving incursions by the Huns which in turn pushed Germanic tribes into Roman lands. In that instance, the Roman Empire was significantly weaker than the Republic at the point of divergence. Instead of being overrun by Germanic tribes, the Romans were able to push back the invaders, with the results previously stated.”

“So they were made weak, and the Carthaginians were able to roll over the Romans?”

“The conquest of Roman territory did not happen immediately. The invasion of Hannibal over the Alps proceeded as it did in our history and the Romans were able to eventually force him back to Africa, again as they did in our history. Although with more losses than experienced in our timeline due to the use of a higher ratio of forced levies and untested troops. The following invasion of Africa by the man who would become known in our time as Scipio Africanus happened as it did in our history, in hopes of refilling their emptied treasuries. He was, however, unable to defeat the Carthaginian army. His army was destroyed. This invasion of Carthage constituted an extraordinary cost to the Republic, which had borrowed heavily from its richest citizens to fund the invasion of Africa. When an army under the command of Hannibal returned to Italy, the Romans were unable to mount a significant defense. Hannibal overran and captured Rome itself, destroying the last Roman legions in Italy.”

“I see. So they were able to push the Romans back to Britannia.”

“Yes, Commander, although that was not specifically their goal. There seems to have been a skilled Roman legate in Iberia who was able to rally the fragments of the destroyed Roman legions and evacuate a large number of civilians from across the failing empire and then across the Channel.”

“Why didn’t the Carthaginians follow up?”

“The Roman records are less specific with information from the conquered areas being intermittently available. From the sources, it appears another nomadic invasion occurred, this one somewhat further south, which forced one of the Persian empires into the area previously controlled by the Romans. They came into direct conflict with the Carthaginians who were attempting to assert their own control of these areas. In addition, multiple Germanic tribes also attempted to gain control of the previous Roman lands, although it is unclear if that is because of the same Nomadic pressures experienced by the Persians, or in reaction to a lack of a controlling government in the contested area.”

“So they were forced to consolidate their gains and fight off the Germanic tribes and Persians?”

“Yes, Commander. Again, primary sources in the documents available are not clear, but it appears this took at least a century, which allowed the Romans to solidify their foothold on Britannia.”

“Although not enough to keep the Carthaginians from eventually invading.”

“No, Commander.”

“What caused all this nomadic invasion, if it didn’t happen in our timeline.”

“That is unknown, Commander. Roman sources indicate an unknown group was pressing into the Nomads territory, forcing them west, but data on this civilization is not present.”

“I see, what …”

Ky’s questioning of the AI was interrupted by a knock at the door.

“Yes,” Ky called out, standing, and heading towards the door.

When the door opened, Ky stopped, surprised. He’d been expecting one of the guards with another armload of documents. While he was being brought documents, the person who walked in carrying them wasn’t one of the guards, but Lucilla.

“What are you …” he said, caught off guard.

“Delivering more documents than I could read in a week, and apparently your fifth batch, tonight. You continue to surprise me.”

“I read quickly,” Ky said, deflecting. “Why are you the one delivering?”

“I ran into the legionnaire outside and offered to bring them in, since I was coming to see you anyway.”

“Was there something you needed from me?”

“No,” she said, almost reluctantly. “I just wanted to see you.”

“Why?” Ky asked.

Her reaction confused Ky. She seemed nervous and yet she’d spent several days on their journey from the ambush site to here and she hadn’t shown any hesitation around him until now. The behavior didn’t make sense to him. While they’d been friendly on their journey they were still little more than strangers, so her wanting to just see him was also strange.

“I … I don’t know,” she said. She stood awkwardly for a minute, holding the stack of documents, looking around the room silently before continuing in a more sure, brighter tone of voice. “Where did you want me to put these?”

“On the table is fine. I’ll sort through them later.”

“What have you been looking for?”

“Just information. I know very little of your people and wanted to find out more about you, like your history and beliefs.”

“Does that mean you are thinking about staying?”

“I’m considering it. Your father made some good points, but I’m still not sure.”

“He said you told him you didn’t have anywhere specific to go. That you were stranded here. Why wouldn’t you stay?”

“I don’t know. I thought it was because I didn’t want to get involved in your war with the Carthaginians. However, your father made good points about why I should get involved, and how I’m already involved after helping you.”

“Do you think we’re worth helping?”

“I don’t know your people well enough to answer that.”

“You’ve met some of us like Ursinus, his troopers, and my father. They’re good people and worth helping.”

“I also met your brother.”

“Don’t judge us by him. I’ve always felt he was touched by Pluto while still in our mother’s womb. Don’t you have people like him where you’re from?”

“Not … exactly. The society I’m from is very different.”

“Could you tell me about where you’re from?”

“I’d rather not. At least not now.”

“You’re very secretive, you know that?”

“I do. I’m sorry. I know it’s frustrating, but I’m not even sure how to go about explaining where I came from. Also, there could be repercussions I haven’t given enough thought to.”

“Repercussions? Just from hearing about where you’re from?”

“Like I said, I’m not even sure how to explain it to you. Once I figure out how to explain it, I promise I will.”

“For you to keep that promise, you need to stay. You know that. Right?”

“Yes, I do. Why is your brother so antagonistic?”

“Probably because he thought you might get in the way of one of his plots. The only thing he’s ever cared about is himself. He’s been like that since we were children. Always wanted to not only be in charge but to be given deference by everyone we’d meet. Don’t worry about him, he knows he can’t challenge Father. Everyone, or at least everyone important, sees right through him.”

“But you seem so …”

“Different? Sometimes I wonder if we had different parents, except he is my twin, so that’s not likely. Which is how I came up with the cursed in the womb idea. Also, you changed the subject.”

“I know. Because I know you’re right and because the part of me that wants to stay is winning out over the much smarter part that’s telling me to run far and fast.”

“So you’ll do it? You’ll stay?”

“I’m not sure what I can offer. I was trained as a soldier, but … in a very different way. I’m not sure what I can offer your people. I’ve already told you my weapons have limited usability. I’ve already used up much more of them than I should have.”

“You’ll do more than you think.”

“How?”

“By just being here. My father always said that morale is the key to war. If our soldiers believe that the gods are behind them, then we have a chance, at least.”

“So we’re back to the prophecy nonsense?”

“Just because you don’t believe it doesn’t mean it won’t work for us. You don’t have to understand something, or believe in it, for it to still work. Let the people have their figurehead.”

“Fine, I guess I’ll live with it, for now. Please remember that I’m uncomfortable with the idea.”

“That’s because you’re a good person.”

“You haven’t known me long enough to say that.”

“I can tell. I’m a good judge of people,” she said, turning and putting her hand on the door to his room. “I should go. You have all this new stuff to read and you need to get some rest. I’m sure Father will want you to go out to the camps tomorrow and see the soldiers … or at least let them see you.”

“Sure. Good night, my lady,” he said, adopting the honorific he’s heard used by other Romans.

“I’m glad you’re staying to help us, Ky. Good night.”

She pulled the door open and left the room. Ky stood, staring at the door for several minutes, wondering why exactly he’d changed his mind. All of the Emperor’s prodding hadn’t pushed Ky to commit to staying with them and yet, somehow, the Emperor’s daughter convinced him to stay without him even realizing he’d made the decision until after it was all over. Not coming up with a good answer he turned and headed back to the new stacks of documents.

Now that he’d decided to stay, he’d needed to find some clue as to what he’d gotten himself into.

Chapter 7

Ky walked into what he was thinking of as the throne room the next morning, refreshed, despite the small amount of sleep he’d gotten the night before. Although he could get along on very little sleep when needed, the doctors had still recommended eight hours of sleep when possible.

While he hadn’t hit that benchmark by any degree, he still felt like a weight had been lifted off him. He considered that maybe it was because he’d at least made a decision, allowing him to focus on going forward instead of standing still. The soldier in him enjoyed the simple distinction of having a clear objective. A small part of him suggested there might be more to it than that but Ky wasn’t clear what that would have been.

He’d sent for two more stacks of documents the previous night and, while he knew he needed to do a lot more reading, he felt he had a good handle on the Romans’ general situation, if not its specific tactical one. He’d also gotten a picture of their society and technology. On the technological front, while this was a far cry from what his people had in the future, he was surprised by how advanced it was, all considering. He had never been a historian and had nothing beyond the most shadowy of ideas of what Roman technology had been. When he’d explained his understanding the night before the AI had suggested he was confusing Roman, medieval, and even some renaissance history together.

He was less thrilled with what he’d learned about Roman society. While he was fine with the society being led by an Emperor, mostly because his own had something very similar, he was thrown by the large amount of slavery that existed among the Romans. The poor who couldn’t pay their bills, the children of people already in slavery, and those captured in Roman battles, including women and children found in overrun cities were all part of a large slave class. He found himself extremely bothered by the practice, although the AI pointed out the same situation existed among all the contemporary societies.

For now, he’d have to live with the practice, but Ky had promised himself he’d work on convincing the Romans to abandon the practice if at all possible. That was, of course, assuming he and the Romans as a whole survived the upcoming battle.

Ky was surprised to see the room a lot less full than he expected, although it was far from what he would have called empty. Standing around the edge of the table that currently held a large map with various figures sitting atop it were the Emperor, Lucilla, and Ursinus, along with three of the men he’d met the previous day and a fourth man Ky had not seen before. A few steps behind the three men from the day before and the newcomer were about a dozen more men wearing various symbols of rank that meant nothing to Ky but that he took to be subordinates of the men closest to the map.

“Ky, excellent,” the Emperor said, looking up as Ky was ushered into the room by one of the guards at the door.

“You asked for me?” Ky said, walking up to the table.

“First, I wanted to tell you how happy I am that you’ve decided to stay with us.”

“You and your daughter both made good arguments.”

Father beamed at daughter for a moment before looking at the other two men in the room, “Ursinus you know, and you met Ramirus, Globulus, and Velius the other day, albeit briefly. Globulus and Velius each command one of the two full legions we have at our disposal for this fight, while Ramirus is in charge of our spies and intelligence. Aelius is Primus Pilus of the Ninth Legion and brought back what is left of it after half the legion along with the legate and all the tribunes were lost. While not a full legion, I have asked him to stand as its legate for now, since he is familiar with the men.”

Ky nodded to each as they were introduced.

“I asked Ky to be here so you could bring him up to speed on where things stand,” the Emperor said to the gathered men. “I’m interested in hearing our new friend’s point of view on the defenses. Legate, why don’t you start?”

The last sentence had been said to the man identified as Globulus, who made a sour expression and indicated with a nod that the younger legate should take the lead. Ky couldn’t help glancing briefly at the Emperor, wondering what the man was thinking. From their conversation the day before, Ky was certain the Emperor was one of the craftier men he’d ever met, but Ky still wasn’t sure why he’d been sent for. The man didn’t know him and had no idea what Ky could or couldn’t do, except what Lucilla or Ursinus would have told him about the two small clashes Ky had been involved in. Except for Ky telling the Emperor the day before that he was a soldier, there was no reason Ky could think of for the Emperor to have called him to the planning session.

“Certainly, my lord. Thanks to the information Ky brought back, and some additional information we have from assets in Londinium itself, we know this is the majority of the forces Maharbaal currently has locally. We’ve heard rumors that the ending of the revolt in Iberia has opened up additional forces, but we are pretty sure he hasn’t received any forces from the Continent yet, and most likely won’t until after the ground thaws. While Ramirus’s sources might have missed the army marching out, based on some of the insignia Ursinus saw during the ambush, we are fairly certain this is part of the force already stationed on Britannia. Which is, in its own way, good news.”

“The army is four times your size, how is that good news?” Ky asked.

“Because this is the majority of the forces available to them for now. While he kept some in reserve back in Londinium, based on the numbers Ramirus’s men were able to put together, a lot of that needs to remain where it is to keep the local countryside pacified. Why that is good for us is that, if we can somehow beat back this army, we will have at least the winter to prepare for his next incursion. Snow is already starting to fall which means there are fewer supplies available than there would be at other points in the year. Plus, they would need to outfit their army to fight in the cold, which the Carthaginians just aren’t set up to do. They rarely operate north of the Danube, and hardly go into even Gaul, leaving that to their Germanic puppets. They would end up spending most of the winter pulling together new forces and equipping them for winter operations, just to have to equip them again for coming at us after the ground has thawed and the temperatures go back up.”

“Doesn’t that mean they’ll spend the winter putting together a new army to come after you? One most likely better equipped and much larger than the one they’ve already sent, to make sure they get the job done?”

“That is absolutely what it means,” Velius said. “It also gives us time to do the same and prepare for another assault. We can worry about that then. For now, we need to deal with the threat in front of us.”

“Which, as Ky pointed out, is still an army four times your size, Legate,” Lucilla said.

“That is true, my lady. We have some ideas for that, however. My plan,” Globulus said, pointing at locations on the map as he spoke, “is to push forward and straddle the Silurum - Devnum road. The forest is dense and goes almost all the way to the ocean on the West, and to the Sabrina River on the east. The only real path to us is either to go around to the coast and follow the coastline towards us, which still limits how far they can deploy their army and requires an almost sixty-thousand passus detour, or to backtrack fifty-thousand passus and go around the Sabrina. The only direct route is to come at us up the central road, which is bounded on either side by thick forest. This will keep him from turning our flanks and let us take his army head-on.”

“Can you win a head-on battle against so many men?” Ky asked.

“Quite possibly. My men are hardier and better fighters than the Carthaginians. I know we can take them in a straight-up fight where I can control how much of their army can get at us.”

Globulus sounded confident, but it was clear from the expression on both Velius’s and Ramirus’s faces that they did not share his confidence.

“I don’t mean to sound doubtful Legate, but is it wise to use the superiority of your troops, which I am in no way doubting, as the entire basis of your strategy?”

“Wise? The Roman legions are the best armies in the world and cannot be beaten in a stand-up fight. Additionally, it neutralizes their larger cavalry. Coming to grips with them just as they exit the forest will keep their archers or siege train from deploying against us, as well.”

Ky opted not to point out the Roman Legions had lost time and again to the Carthaginians, pushed out of Africa, off the Continent, and now hemmed into one side of Britain.

Instead, he said, “True, but the forest is not impassible. Yes, it will keep his men from going around your flanks in mass but, if their general is smart, he will still send soldiers through the trees to harass you from the side and rear, and eventually cut you off. He has more than enough soldiers to pour them into the trees piecemeal, in hopes that it weakens your force enough for his front line to push through, or to engage you long enough that he completely surrounds your legions, forcing you to fight in all directions.”

“Our cavalry should be able to hold the tree line,” The legate said, sounding a little less sure of himself.

“Commander,” the AI queried. “An additional strategy is available for the given array of forces.”

“Show me,” Ky sub-vocalized.

The map animated in front of his eyes as the AI overlaid troops based on the figures he’d been given by Ursinus during their ride back to Devnum and what he’d seen of the Carthaginian army. As Ky watched, the AI’s strategy was laid out in front of him and played out in repeating cycles as the AI showed possible outcomes to the strategy and their effects.

“Ky,” Lucilla said, her voice breaking through his concentration.

“Wha…” he said, looking up to find all the faces in the room turned towards him.

He’d been so focused on the strategies offered by the AI that he had stopped paying attention so the other people had noticed.

“Did you have something to offer?” the Emperor asked.

“Yes, my lord, I think I see an alternative strategy.”

“My lord, I renew my protest. I can’t see why we should listen to …” Globulus started to say but stopped as the Emperor held up a hand.

“I would like to hear him out,” the Emperor commanded, causing Globulus’ already dour face to darken even more.

“Let me make sure of a few points first. Based on my observations of their army and my reading last night, the Carthaginians primarily use phalanxes to hold an opposing force in place and a combination of their cavalry and light infantry to work around the sides of the pinned army?”

“Their cavalry, like our own, is mostly used as mounted archers and scouts until the opposing forces lose cohesion, but otherwise correct.”

“Am I also right in saying the phalanx is more vulnerable than your legions to flanking attacks?” Ky asked.

“Yes. Generally, they are more lightly armored than our legionaries, and they don’t pivot to face attacks from new directions nearly as well,” Velius replied.

“My suggestion would be that you split your forces. You move back to just past where the road leaves the forest and opens up into the farmland between here and Devnum. There you would use two full legions as a holding force to blunt the Carthaginian army and hold them against the forest, or at least let them feel they have you pinned in place. Once the army is all the way deployed, we would smash into its rear and flanks with the Aelius’s men and all of the cavalry.”

“You want me to take on a force four times my size with mine broken into three smaller groups? That’s madness!” Globulus bellowed.

“Hear him out!” the Emperor said, his voice taking on a tone of command Ky hadn’t heard from him before.

“I understand the idea of splitting your army is distasteful, but with the right timing, it could be enough to counter the Carthaginian’s superior forces.”

“I assume you have a plan to ensure our forces achieve total surprise?” the Emperor asked.

“Yes,” Ky said as he proceeded to lay out the AIs plan in detail.

When Ky finished walking the Emperor and his legates through the details of the plan Velius was nodding thoughtfully while Globulus could barely contain his contempt. Aelius, for his part, was silent, seeming uncomfortable surrounded by so many men of higher standing, including the emperor.

“Will this work?” The Emperor asked his legates.

Velius gave the map another long look as he collected his thoughts and said, “Maybe. If everything goes as he says, yes. I’ve fought the Carthaginians in one of my first battles. It was a skirmish, but I’ve seen how they fight. They don’t do well with attacks into their rear. If we manage to pull it off, it will work. If they break the holding force before the Ninth can engage and turn to face the new threat, however, then it’s all over.”

For his part Globulus made a disgruntled noise.

“Is he right about the chances of the original plan being successful?”

“No,” Globulus declared.

“Yes,” Velius said, almost simultaneous with the other legate, who glared at Velius.

“So his plan gives us a better chance of defeating the enemy?”

Globulus didn’t reply, continuing to glare at the younger centurion.

“It is risky, but yes,” Aelius said, speaking for the first time.

Velius took his joining the conversation in stride while Globulus didn’t even try to mask the raw contempt on his face.

“Do we have any ideas that are less risky and still give us any chance of stopping their army?”

“No, my lord,” Velius said.

“It seems we should go with Ky’s plan, then.”

“My Lord, we can’t …” Globulus started to protest but was interrupted by the Emperor.

“No. I was concerned about your plan from the beginning. Everything he said about the weakness in that plan had already occurred to me and it should have occurred to you. His plan, while it is risky, does at least address those problems. You will follow my orders.”

“With your leave, I will go to my men and prepare them to move into the assigned positions,” Globulus said, looking angry.

“Yes. Please coordinate with Velius’s legion. Aelius, I will issue orders that you will retain direct command of the Ninth for now, but Ky will be in overall command of the ambushing forces.”

“As you say, my lord,” Globulus said and turned to leave, several of the men falling in line with him, leaving the large, open room.

“What about your other legions?” Ky asked. “You said the Ninth arrived just recently. Is there any chance more could come to our aid before the Carthaginians attack?”

“No. They’re all putting down an incursion by the northern barbarians. We sent a runner to them requesting they send four of their eight legions back to us, but its two days ride there and that’s for a single messenger riding hard. It will take the legions we requested at least five days to get here. It’s only luck that had Aelius detached with a weakened legion to reinforce and refit itself.”

“My lord, I also need to go to my legion and begin getting my men prepared. We will need to move in the next few hours to get our men in place. Their outriders could be upon us as soon as tomorrow morning. If this trap is going to work, they need to report back to their leaders about our formations waiting for them just outside the forest. The more the Carthaginian general is focused on our holding force, the less chance they will look for our ambushing forces.”

“Certainly, Legate,” the Emperor said, using a much friendlier voice that he’d used with Globulus. “Aelius, you should also return to your men. Ky will join you before you move into your final positions.”

“Thank you Princeps,” Aelius said, and left along with two more of the silent observers.

“If you approve, I’d appreciate it if I could take Ky with me to visit the army. His suggestion seems to be the best option we have, but I think it would be good if he saw the forces first hand, to see if it changes his suggestions.”

“That sounds like an excellent idea.”

“Sir, could I have a word with you first,” Ky said, feeling a bit adrift.

“I’ll wait outside,” Velius said with a salute, leaving the room with those officers who hadn’t accompanied Globulus or Aelius.

With the military leaders gone Ky was left with just Ramirus, Lucilla, the Emperor, and Ursinus. He eyed the other people in the room, prompting the Emperor to wave him off.

“Anything you need to ask, you can say in front of these people. My daughter, of course, has my fullest confidence, but both Ramirus and Ursinus have served my family since they could walk. I trust them quite literally with my life.”

“I was wondering why you asked me to be here. I’ve already reported everything I saw of the Carthaginian army. I’m not sure what you’re expecting from me. Your generals would have figured out a viable strategy without my input.”

“I’m not sure that’s true. I knew the plan Globulus brought me had problems. Velius would have stood up to him and put forth a more practical solution, but word of the disagreement would have spread. Even if I overruled Globulus and accepted Velius’s plan word would have spread. Globulus isn’t universally beloved by the soldiers but they know him and many have served with him. Velius is young and was only recently placed as a legate. He comes from a prominent merchant family who’ve made it clear they’d be willing to trade coin for legitimacy. You’ve met the man so I hope you can see I named him to the position because of his ability and not what his family was offering, but many of my subjects believe the rumors. In a dire situation like this, I couldn’t trust Globulus to not change strategies once he was in the field and I couldn’t trust the legions not to go over to him. I’d hoped you would hear Velius’s plan and, being a soldier yourself, would side with it over Globulus’s tendencies to charge forward regardless of relative strengths. The fact that you instead offered your own strategy was even better than I’d hoped.”

“You were worried Velius didn’t have the loyalty of the troops, how would I change that calculation? I’m just arrived here and have met hardly anyone.”

“Soldiers talk. I’m sure by now Ursinus’s man has finished going to men from each cohort and told them of your heroic deeds on the journey here, and who he thinks you really are.”

“Why would he do that?”

“Because I ordered him to.”

Ky’s mouth hung open. That had been the last thing he would have guessed the Emperor would say.

“I realize you aren’t happy with that and it is very calculating of me to use you in such a blatant fashion, especially without asking your permission. I would apologize, but we both know I would do it again if I had to. The existence of my people is at stake. If we lose this battle, we lose everything.”

“So I am here as some sort of symbol,” Ky said wearily.

“While that was my initial motivation, you proved once again I shouldn’t underestimate your value. Velius’s plan had the benefit of being safe and easy to execute, but I also had misgivings that his plan would have won out in the end. Yours is riskier but it feels somehow right. I may have wanted you to bring hope to my soldiers, and you’ve instead brought hope to me. My daughter will tell you that I am the eternal pessimist so that is quite the feat.”

Ky had already realized the Emperor was a much craftier man than he seemed at first, which in of itself was almost certainly a second layer of misdirection on the Emperor’s part. The man’s mind was clearly very agile and he had again completely outmaneuvered Ky.

“I guess what’s done is done. I’m not happy with you playing me but I get that you felt you had no choice. I should go to Velius. I don’t want to hold him up.”

“Go and good luck. Please know I appreciate everything you’re doing to help my people.”

Ky nodded and made eye contact with Lucilla, who looked like she almost wanted to say something. When she made no move to speak, however, Ky gave her a tight smile, turned, and left the room to the waiting Velius.

The trip to Velius’s legion didn’t take long since it was camped on the open plain just outside the city. Ky couldn’t help but notice the land the soldiers sat on looked suspiciously like farmland, which the AI confirmed after a quick analysis. It was after the harvest, so no crops looked to be planted at the moment, but Ky wondered if they did the same thing in the middle of summer. That couldn’t be good for the food-producing area when an army moved through, even if they didn’t take or steal the already harvested food. Ky filed that away as something to think about later.

The camp itself was far less organized than Ky had thought it would be, considering how orderly the Romans seemed to be with everything. While the tents were in neat, orderly rows, men sort of milled about absently. There seemed to be no distinction as to who was where, or what they were supposed to be doing.

In Ky’s time, everything had a timetable and everything was orderly. For soldiers, there was always something to do. If they weren’t in combat, they were in training, if they weren’t in training, they were working on equipment, and if they weren’t working on equipment, they were cleaning. NCOs ensured that everyone was productive when they were on duty. Sure, they were allowed to pursue their own interests when not on duty, to socialize or make use of entertainment facilities; but that didn’t seem to be the case here. It seemed every soldier he saw was off duty. True, they were sitting very close to their capital, but still, there should have been some soldiers on guard duty or training or doing one of the hundreds of other things soldiers did in every army.

Yet, Ky didn’t see much indication of this. There were a few soldiers here or there that seems to be occupied doing something productive, but they were definitely the outliers, and not indicative of the average Roman soldier, at least in this camp.

“Is it always like this?” Ky asked Velius, who was riding next to him, leading a small column of staffers and personal guards into the camp.

“Like what?”

“So, chaotic?”

“I guess. This seems chaotic to you?”

“Yes. I’d expected to see men preparing equipment or training, but these men are just milling about.”

“We do some training each morning, but you can only push them so far. Go too hard, and the men start deserting back to their farms or families.”

“These are conscripts?”

“Yes. Except for a small group of officers and guardsmen, most of the legions are citizens who are called up when needed.”

“Huh?” Ky said, surprised.

“Why would anyone want a permanent military force? All you’d need is one commander with the ambition to stage a revolt.”

“I guess, although I’m sure there could be safeguards for that. I mean, aren’t the men loyal to Rome?”

“Sure, but their first loyalty is to themselves which usually means they are loyal to whoever can pay them enough. While the Senate sets pay for soldiers, anything beyond the base level, which isn’t enough for a man to buy the armor, weapons or supplies they need on a campaign. It’s the Legates and his officers who guarantee the spoils of campaigns or payments of largess.”

“Spoils?” Ky was familiar with the concept, but it normally applied to governments taking over assets of defeated enemies, at least how he’d ever heard it applied.

The idea of troops looting and taking what they wanted or needed was anathema to him. The few times a soldier in his time had been caught doing that, the penalties had been swift and harsh.

“Sure. Why else would men volunteer to become legionaries, if it wasn’t to take part in the spoils?”

Ky was starting to have real concerns about the state of the military. He couldn’t imagine anything with the setup that Velius just described, at least and not call it a professional military. Of course, there was no way to make a professional military if the soldiers had to pay for all their own equipment and supplies. The entire structure of the Roman army went against every form of professionalism he’d ever heard of.

“You do things differently where you’re from?” Velius asked, looking interested.

“Yes, very much.”

“I’d be interested to hear about that.”

“What about those?” Ky asked, pointing to small wood buildings spread periodically throughout the camp.

“The latrines,” Velius said, sounding confused. “I’m sure your people have those as well. I mean, everyone … you know.”

“We do, although it’s much different. I was more interested in how close they seem to where your men camped. I also noted large barrels of water as well. That is your soldier’s drinking water?”

“Yes. This is a temporary camp, so please keep that in mind. In a more permanent fortification, we would have built latrine buildings further out, drained by running water, and dug wells. Since this camp was only meant to last a handful of days at best, the latrines are simple pits, and we carry the barrels of water, filled from the town or river as we resupply.”

“What would you say the number one cost of attrition to your men is?”

“Sickness. It’s something all armies deal with, although it’s a bigger issue with prolonged temporary camps and the least of a problem with permanent military garrisons.”

“I see,” Ky said, again filing away the information for after they settled the battle.

He was finding his hazy understanding of humanities far past clashing strongly with the harsh reality of how things really operated here. He could easily see some changes he could suggest that would have fast results just by understanding some of the basic realities of nature. Assuming, of course, they survived the coming battle.

“Is there something you had on your mind?” Velius asked, curious about the strange nature of Ky’s questions.

“Yes, although nothing that can be useful for tomorrow’s battle. When it’s over, however, I do have some suggestions that should help.”

“Help how?”

“Where I’m from, disease is the cause of only the smallest portion of casualties.”

That wasn’t quite true. With the invention of medical nanobots, diseases or at least the kind that would plague an army in the field was a non-issue. Ky was thinking of things he’d read about armies of the past, those from the latter part of the twentieth and early twenty-first centuries. Of course, he wouldn’t be able to get the Romans up to that standard of hygiene, at least not right away, but he could get them to the levels of the early twentieth century. Which would be a huge improvement over any other army on this Earth.

“Really? I’m not doubting you but … I don’t see how that’s possible. Sickness has been the scourge of armies since the beginning of time. If there was something that could be done to keep it from happening, we would have done it.”

“I’m not sure how to explain this, at least not in an easy to understand way, so please don’t take offense. The issue isn’t with knowing how to keep sickness out of the camps it’s knowing what causes the most common sickness. Your healers do not understand enough about the way the world works to prevent the causes of the various diseases that plague your men.”

“You are saying you do?” Velius asked, sounding skeptical.

“Yes. I know you don’t believe me. I’m not sure I would believe me if I were in your position. I have yet to prove to you what I know or that you should listen to me. All I can say is that, after the battle, I will do what I can to teach your people the things that can help your men.”

“As you say, that is something best left until after we deal with our immediate problem. I will admit I am having trouble believing that there is an answer to the problem of disease that our healers, philosophers, and priests missed. However, you have demonstrated some miraculous abilities, so I guess I should wait and see.”

“I appreciate your confidence,” Ky said, giving the younger legate a friendly smile.

It hadn’t occurred to him before now, but Ky realized his biggest hurdle was going to be getting the Romans to trust him enough to listen to his suggestions.

“Well, let’s go talk to my commanders, and let them know what the Emperor expects of them,” Velius said, matching Ky’s uncertain smile.

♦♦♦

Roman Forum

“I’m telling you, its trouble!” Silo said, pacing like a caged animal, his purple edged toga flapping around him with each turn. “You said he’d be dead by now.”

In front of him stood five other men, each adorned in similar togas with the purple trimming showing their status as leaders. All the men were advanced in age, showing graying or balding heads that spoke to their years on Earth. Slightly separated from the senators stood another man, very differently adorned. A plain gray cloak covered a finely made toga, the cloak’s hood pulled over his head, obscuring his face.

“Calm yourself,” the hooded man said, holding up a hand in a soothing motion. “I told you we’d make an attempt, and we did. But I also told you that we couldn’t guarantee it’d kill him.”

“I realize that,” Silo said, his voice filled with anger. “But he was on death’s door. How did they manage to cure him? Clovis seemed certain the Emperor only had days.”

“It was a close thing, that’s certain. Clovis did his best for Germanicus, but he never even figured out that the man was poisoned. Even if he had, it shouldn’t have mattered since there is no known antidote. It seems impossible that he recovered,” Mutilus, one of the senators standing in the small group, said.

“We aren’t sure what happened, just that credit for saving the Emperor is going to this new man, this … Ky,” the hooded figure replied.

“What do we know about him?” Silo asked.

“Nothing. I heard Ursinus’s report myself and the story is too fantastical to believe. Apparently, he fell out of the sky and shot balls of fire at the Carthaginian soldiers, killing dozens single-handedly.”

Silo wave off the statement. He’d heard the same reports and had to agree they were preposterous.

“He seems cozy with Ursinus. Is there a chance this Ky is in league with Ursinus?”

“To what end? The Optio has always been loyal to the Emperor and his daughter. Plus, if this were some kind of plot by the Emperor to introduce a new player, it would require him to predict the ambush on his daughter and send her into it willingly. Germanicus is cagey, but he wouldn’t put her in danger on purpose like that. Not his daughter.”

“I guess, but it doesn’t answer the question as to who this man is. The Emperor has brought him into the multiple councils of war, and even let the man overrule Globulus’ plan to deal with the Carthaginian army. It’s too much.”

“I agree, but for now there’s nothing we can do. He left the city with Velius, who’s always been loyal to the Emperor. I can’t see any way to get at him while he’s surrounded by Velius’ legion. After Globulus puts down the Carthaginian army, we’ll deal with the foreigner.”

“You’d better. We agreed to support you only because you said you could remove the Emperor. If you can’t deliver, then we have no use for you.”

The hooded man stepped forward in a rush, close to Silo, who flinched back from the sudden movement.

“I will remove the Emperor but remember to whom you are speaking! If I’m willing to have the Emperor killed, imagine how I would feel about removing a Senator!”

Silo stepped back again, visibly blanching. Standing straight and putting on a confident expression, he said, “Just do what you promised and we won’t have any problems.”

The hooded man didn’t respond. Instead, spinning on his heels, he walked off the Senate floor. Silo and the gathered senators could only watch his retreating back, annoyance clear on Silo’s face.

Chapter 8

Seventh Legion & Ninth Legion Camps, South of Devnum

Velius led Ky towards a much larger tent in the center of the camp, which he assumed was Velius’s quarters or some sort of meeting area. Inside, eleven men were gathered, each introduced by name and their position, none of which made much sense to Ky. He hadn’t considered it yet, since so far he’d only met the commanders of legions which he’d internalized to being equal to a regiment in the ground forces of his time, although without, apparently, the larger command apparatus that he was used to which existed between field commanders and their Emperor.

Velius outlined Ky’s plan for them, which didn’t take much time considering the simplicity of the Seventh Legion’s part in the upcoming battle.

“Could you explain how the military operates here?” Ky asked the AI internally as Velius began explaining each commander’s responsibilities for the upcoming battle.

“Not all information on current Roman military formations is currently available. From reviewed historical documents, there is a known deviation from the organizational structure of either second century B.C.E. at the point of the deviation or the structures from the time period of the early Roman Empire. Extrapolation from reviewed historical documents suggests Roman organization structures developed on a new path adapting structures used by other nations to counter falling Roman manpower and respond to repeated Roman defeats.”

“So the structure they have now is unique to this timeline.”

“Correct, Commander.”

“Do you have details of the current structure used in this timeline?”

“Yes, Commander. Enough information on current structures is available to extrapolate.”

“Then extrapolate.”

“Due to manpower shortages, the largest field unit currently deployed by the Romans is the legion. From reviewed records, it appears the legions rarely work in groups greater than three and normally deploy in singles. According to the map and documents in the council of war you attended, the Romans can currently only field five legions. Each legion is commanded by a legate and reports directly to the Emperor or the senior legate if the legions are operating collectively. The legion is made up of nine standard and one reinforced cohorts and led by their senior centurions. The standard cohorts are made up of six centuries of eighty men each while the reinforced cohort has five centuries of one-hundred and sixty men, with each century headed by a centurion. The centuries are further subdivided into eight-man units called contubernium led by a decanus. The legion is supplemented by one-hundred and twenty man cavalry commanded by a centurion and which could be further divided into groups of thirty, each lead by a decurion.”

“What about artillery?”

“Romans of this time seem to use artillery only in sieges, a rare occurrence due to their defensive nature. Each cohort is assigned between one hundred and five hundred auxiliary troops who are used for tasks ranging from manual labor to skirmishing to manning artillery pieces as needed. There seem to be no soldiers dedicated to artillery itself.”

“So, let me get this right. They use whoever is the highest-ranking centurion to lead a cohort, which leaves his century under his second in command. They have no serious cavalry and no one who’s actually dedicated to learning field works and artillery.”

“Not precisely commander. The armies at this time are primarily focused on heavy infantry with cavalry’s primary role being scouting or as mobile ranged weapons. Although enough information on artillery in this timeline is not available, the corresponding artillery in the originating timeline was limited in quality and functionality and not primarily used in a field setting. As for command structure, this is largely correct. With some exceptions in support staff for the legate such as engineering and clerical specialists, Romans on this timeline have no concept for staff officers.”

“That seems like a poor way to run an army.”

The AI had no response to that and Ky let it drop. Velius was winding down his instructions and turned to Ky.

“Ky, anything to add?”

“No, you covered everything. Just remember you must hold them in place until the Ninth Legion can strike them. If they break through your lines, they will be able to turn on the weaker Ninth and wipe it out.”

“Good. Make sure your men have a good night’s sleep. We expect the Carthaginians at some point tomorrow morning.”

“Do you have someone well versed in artillery?”

Velius turned to a man whose name Ky didn’t remember with a questioning glance.

“Sepurcius has always been a bit … overzealous when it comes to those damn things.”

“I’ll need to talk to him, next,” Ky said.

“Right. Gordianus, bring your man here. The rest of you, get to it.”

The ten men filed out of the command tent, leaving Velius and Ky alone.

“I find your organizational structure very strange.”

“Really? Even after our displacement by the Carthaginians, Rome is still known to have the most professional military in the known world.”

“I’m sorry, Legate, I wasn’t implying your men weren’t professional. I just know of some other organizational structures that might be more effective.”

“Again, I’d like to hear about these at some point. You seem to have a wide range of knowledge we do not. I’d be a fool to not hear about it.”

“Maybe. Mine is all theory, however. I was a very different kind of soldier than you or your men, so my theory may not work in practice. Once this is over, however, I’ll share what I know and you and your fellow legates can decide what would work best with your armies.”

Velius gave a wry laugh and looked away.

“What?”

“One of the reasons Globulus and some of his old guard dislike me is my lack of respect for the old ways. I’m not sure you’d find many welcome ears.”

“We can deal with that when we get to it.”

The tent flap opened and a man younger than Velius ducked through. To Ky’s age, he was almost a child and not a soldier.

“Legate?” the young man said, slapping an arm across his chest and keeping his eyes downcast.

“You’re Favonius Gordianus’s man?” Velius asked, sounding as if he was harboring some of the same doubts Ky felt when he saw them.

“Yes, Legate,” he said, his voice squeaking.

“This is a guest of the Princeps who has agreed to help us prepare for tomorrow’s battle. Gordianus tells me you are familiar with our siege engines?”

“Yes, Legate.”

“Do you have something that will hurl clay jugs filled with a liquid roughly a hundred yards and keep the vessels intact on launch?” Ky asked.

“The onagers would be able to. We made adjustments to them in last season’s campaign to throw containers of Greek fire.”

“All of your shots went on target?”

“One misfired, and the container fell, catching the crew and equipment alight, but the rest hit close to their targets. I’ve been working on modifying my weapon for greater reliability and accuracy.”

“How many of those do you have in your legion?”

“Three.”

“How many in the Ninth and First Legions?”

“As far as I’m aware, the Ninth lost their baggage train in their last conflict. The First has four, my lord.”

Ky turned to Velius and said, “How much trouble would Globulus give us if we asked him for his four to be put under a joint command.”

“It shouldn’t be any trouble, Dominous,” Sepurcius answered.

Velius’s eyes narrowed slightly, aware of a context to the statement Ky didn’t understand or perhaps for speaking out of place.

Velius must have chosen to ignore it because he asked, “Why is that soldier?”

“The Fifth hardly ever uses their equipment. They don’t have anyone assigned to look after them and most the men are more annoyed having to transport them. I’ve asked to borrow parts off them a few times, and they never care.”

“Perhaps it’s best if we let Sepurcius get the equipment for us, to avoid Globulus suddenly deciding he must have them because we asked.”

Velius smiled and said, “It seems you have a very good read on the legate. Yes, that’s probably for the best.”

“Sepurcius, do you have others you know of that you could trust to man these and follow specific instructions? We also need someone who knows how to mix chemical compounds.”

“Yes, Dominous, I do.”

“Before I go to the Ninth, I will put together a series of containers for you. Velius has your orders on what to do with them, but please be aware firing short will blind your fellow legionaries and cause serious trouble for them in the battle. It’s vitally important you hit the targets Velius gives you.”

“I won’t fail you Dominous.”

“Good,” Velius said. “Go and get us the siege equipment and any men you need to operate them effectively. By my order, they are under your command for the coming battle.”

The young man smiled brightly and slapped a fist to chest again before practically running out of the tent.

“I see the men have heard of your exploits,” Velius said.

“Why do you say that?”

“The address Dominous is usually one given by slave to master. They wouldn’t call me or the Princeps that. The only reason a Roman citizen would call another man that is if he wasn’t just a man.”

“Velius, please don’t buy into the stories Ursinus and Lucilla are sharing. I’m just a soldier.”

“Sure,” the younger man said, clearly not believing a word of it.

Ky went over a few more ideas for the upcoming battle and left to begin his journey to the Ninth. Velius assigned a soldier as a guide and for protection, even though Ky assured him neither was necessary. Before he left, he talked to one of the camp engineers and found the supplies he needed to make his special packages for the artillery. That done, he headed for the Ninth, who had the hardest task for the next day and with whom he’d be spending the night.

The Ninth was camped a half-mile away and was, if anything, was much more ramshackle than how the Seventh Legion had appeared. Many of the men looked to be injured in some way and their equipment was dirty and well used. He’d been told they’d only recently returned from a fierce battle that had cost them their commander and a portion of their legion but seeing it was a different experience for Ky.

Before his trip through the bridge, combat was an almost surgical thing, where nanites would repair all but the most serious injuries and the AI could walk back a person who’d been rendered unconscious, after a fashion. Walking wounded was not a thing he was used to experiencing in his time.

Ky tried to keep a positive expression on his face as they walked through the camp, realizing from each man’s expression that they’d already begun to hear stories about him and the silly Sword of Jupiter thing. Even though he didn’t believe in it, they clearly did, and in a battle where they’d be heavily outnumbered and hoping on luck as much as talent, morale was key.

He stopped and talked to some of the men, trying to give as many as he could a word of support or hope for tomorrow’s battle. It was only when they hit the medical tent that he lost the calm exterior he’d been fighting to maintain.

“STOP!” he commanded, grabbing one of the priests before he could place a bandage on a soldier.

“What’s the meaning of …” the man started to say as he turned around, only to stop when he realized who grabbed him.

“Dominous, is everything okay?” Aelius said, looking concerned.

Ky had already tried to squash the Dominous thing multiple times, but Aelius wouldn’t stop and seemed almost aghast at the suggestion he should call Ky by his name.

“They are going to kill these men.”

Several of the priests in the hospital tent began protesting at once. They were all very respectful but clearly incensed that their professionalism was being called into question.

“I watched you pull this stained wrapping off one man, and you were about to apply it to this other man. You’re going to cause infections that will very likely kill him.”

“How would a bandage cause his ailment to spread? We applied vinegar and honey to the wound and seal it with the bandages to keep the vapors in the air away from it.”

“While not as effective as true antibiotics or even primitive chemical disinfectants, both honey and vinegar were used to good effect in ancient times to combat bacterial infections.”

Ky ignored the AI, although once again realized the software offering unrequested opinions suggested things he would sooner not think about at the moment.

“The honey and vinegar are well and good, but if you put a bandage removed from someone else’s infection and place it on that man’s wound, it will just cancel out everything you’re doing with the honey and vinegar. The infection spreads by traveling from one infected region to another.”

“A Varroite,” one priest said to another, both giving knowing looks. “We know of Varro’s ideas, but they’ve been widely disproven. We appreciate your suggestions, but please let us work.”

“I have no idea who Varro is. I do know what you’re doing is wrong.”

“Medico, perhaps you could consider what he’s saying,” Aelius said. “I heard he took the Emperor from the brink of death to walking briskly out of his bedchambers by just placing his hand on the Princeps arm. If he can do that, I think he’s worth listening to. An avatar of the gods knows how to heal men’s wounds.”

Everything in Ky made him want to tell Aelius he had it all wrong, and there was nothing mystical about what he’d done, but keeping these men from killing more sick soldiers took priority. The priests looked at each other, considering his words and almost certainly considering both Ky’s supposedly divine provenance and his connection to the Emperor. Both religious and more practical reasoning seemed to have its effect.

“What would you have us do?” the priest asked.

“Any bandages that touch an open wound must be boiled thoroughly before being used again. The same with bed cloth, clothing, and any metal tools that might be used on a patient. Anything the injured man touches should be boiled and dried away from anything that contains bodily fluids. Continue to apply the vinegar and honey, but make sure wounds are cleaned when bandages are changed with water that has also been fully boiled for several minutes. The boiling will kill the things in the water or cloth that could cause sickness, making it clean to use.”

“So you do believe what Varro said, that small creatures are what cause wounds to fester and sickness.”

“Partially. It’s too complicated to go into now, and much of it I don’t think you’ll believe without proof. I can give you some, but the experiment I would show you will take time. Time which we don’t have. For now, please humor me. When we come out victorious tomorrow I will talk to the Emperor and teach you what I know. All I can tell you, for now, is that where I come from almost no one dies from wounds like this, most children are born healthy and live to adulthood, and neither sweating sicknesses nor the pox plague us. I’m not sure if I can make the same true for the Roman people, at least not quickly, but I can try to tell you why we don’t fear these things.”

The priests didn’t say anything one way or another, but Ky could tell one or two were listening. While he still didn’t like it, he was thankful that the AI had flashed the ideas of sweating sickness and pox to him as he was talking. He would have to look in its databases, but his guess was these were major concerns for people of this time.

Either way, the priests were doing what he asked, and large pots were being hauled to fires outside the tents to begin boiling the water for sterilization.

“Have we heard anything about the city levy that is supposed to be joining us tomorrow?”

“Yes, Dominous …”

“Aelius, when it’s just the two of us at least, can you try calling me Ky. This Dominous thing is starting to wear on me. I promise you won’t be struck by lightning or anything. I wouldn’t ask you if it was going to offend me.”

“I will try,” he said, but Ky noticed he still didn’t use his name.

“You were saying?”

“Yes. They will join us at first light. We don’t have the room to have them camp with us, and since their homes are so near, it seemed a better solution. I am concerned about their role in this. They are little more use than an unruly mob.”

“They should be up against the camp followers and rear guard. All they need to do is catch as much siege equipment and people as possible and make the road impassable. For that, an unruly mob is just what we need. We’ll hold a century back to provide them with security once our trap is sprung. If everything goes right, anyone coming back to the forest road will be disorganized and easily captured. If things go wrong, it wouldn’t matter where they would have been at the end of the day, since all of Devnum will be gone.”

“Then we should try to keep things from going badly,” Aelius said. “I believe you said you wanted to get an early start. Let me show you to your tent.”

♦♦♦

Carthaginian Camp, Ten Miles South of Devnum

Zaracas wiped his mouth and waved for the slave to clear the food that remained.

“Excellent,” he said as he watched her picking up plates. “Bring me my wine.”

She bowed and left with all the scraps she could carry, hurrying to meet his request. They’d been well trained and knew the consequences of not meeting their responsibilities.

“My Lord,” a voice said from the tent flap. Looking up, Zaracas could see one of his personal guards holding it open, a dust-covered man standing behind him. “The scout has returned.”

“Send him in,” he said as he reached out and took the cup of wine from the girl.

Zaracas’s hand shot out, grabbing her as the scout came in, holding her in place. She froze instantly, looking up from the floor so she could see any command he would give. Releasing her, he pointed at the floor next to his table, where she knelt at his command.

Turning his attention to the scout, Zaracas said, “Report.”

“While we couldn’t get as close as we would have liked, due to the Romans putting out many more pickets than I’ve seen before, we were able to see their troops’ camps. It appears to be three legions, although one of those legions’ camps appeared much smaller than the other two. They have camped in the plains between the mouth of the forest and Devnum.”

“That isn’t a surprise. We know some of the Romans escaped that fool Arvad and warned their soldiers. It doesn’t matter; we have four times that number in our army. We will sweep them from the field tomorrow. Continue.”

“We saw no sign that they’ve called up their town levy, although I believe that is only because they are close to town. As, in your great wisdom, you said, they almost certainly know we are coming, so I expect their town levy to be in the field tomorrow.”

“Farmers and cooks. They won’t change anything. No sign of the legions they sent north?”

“No, my lord. We sent scouts two days ago riding far around the town to detect if they are marching south, but so far none of the scouts have reported finding anything. If they are marching to the relief here, they won’t be here before we can defeat these Romans, and prepare for their reinforcements.”

“Excellent. I never put as much trust in the cutpurses and oath breakers that the Governor likes to employ, but for once they seem to have come through. Of course, I have no doubt we could defeat all seven legions at once, but the great one has entrusted me with your lives, and so I must hold to the best strategy to keep this army as strong as possible. We will attack them at our strongest where they are weakest.”

The scout genuflected further, his head almost touching the edge of the rug that served as the tent’s floor.

“Your brilliance knows no equal, my lord.”

Zaracas looked pleased at the compliment and went on to his next item, saying, “What about their cavalry?”

“The first two legions have a full complement. It is unclear on the smaller legion, as they had cavalry with them, but they just arrived, and have performed no field maneuvers or training since they set up camp.”

Zaracas frowned. That was the one area his army was weak. Arvad had taken the bulk of his cavalry, many of whom had been slaughtered in the marshes and many more of which were still running or hiding in the countryside. Zaracas had already decided when the Romans were crushed, he would request Maharabaal’s permission to track down and punish the deserters. Even if the smaller legion had no cavalry, his mounted force was already outnumbered. He would need to keep his cavalry deployed in his rear to make sure the Romans mounted archers didn’t get behind him.

“Fine, Anything else to report?”

“No, my lord. Everything else is what we expected to find from them.”

“Good. Go tell your commander to feed you properly as a reward for your good work.”

“Thank you, my lord. Your generosity is the thing sung of in praise. Thank you, ohh, benevolent leader. Thank you.”

The man kept up his approbation as he repeatedly bowed, walking backward out of the tent. Zaracas ignored him, reaching out to grab the slave girl by the arm and pulling her roughly up to him.

“Now, how should I celebrate tomorrow’s triumph,” he said with a sneer.

♦♦♦

Ninth Legion Camp

Ky had slept very little the night before, relying on the nanites to put him into a short REM sleep and ensure he was rested enough for the coming day. He’d spent most the night going over the AIs plan, looking for problem areas.

Unfortunately, there were a lot of those given the size difference between the two forces. There wasn’t much they could do at this point. The plan looked good to Ky, but his tactical experience was limited to fighter command, and he had no practical experience with ground combat to offer much in the way of critique. He did have a stray thought that if he was going to stay with the Romans he was certain to get that type of experience quickly.

Soldiers standing outside his tent came to attention as he exited. He’d tried to convince Aelius the night before he didn’t need them, but relented when the Roman took personal offense to the suggestion. They fell in behind him and followed Ky to the command tent. He found Aelius already up and dressed in his armor, his centurions already pulled together.

“How are we coming?” Ky asked as he walked in.

“On schedule Dominous. The commanders of the Seventh cavalry reported in twenty minutes ago. The city levy has begun forming up outside the camp, surprisingly most with their weapons. We’ve only had to arm a few who lost their equipment.”

“Sold’s more like,” one of the centurions said, which earned him a glare from Aelius.

“What about the Fifth’s cavalry?”

“We have heard nothing from them. I sent a runner to find out what’s keeping them a few moments ago.”

“We’ll get ready without them. The Carthaginians are starting to break camp, and we have at least four hours before their units cross the forest road. We have to be in position before they come out.”

Ky had sent his drone off to check on the Carthaginians at first light and had a current feed playing in the corner of his vision. Aelius shared a look with a man named Lartius, the head of the Seventh Legion’s cavalry, that Ky had met the previous day.

“You’ll have to trust me that I can see the Carthaginian’s movements.”

“We believe you, Dominous,” Aelius said, his skeptical tone giving lie to the confident words. “We will need to take care of the Carthaginian scouts before the Ninth can move into place.”

“I agree, Legate. Don’t worry; I’ll take care of them. You focus on getting your legion ready to march.”

“How could …” Velius started to say and stopped. “Of course, Dominous.”

Velius looked fairly unsure but didn’t argue with him, which worked for Ky. He didn’t want to spend time trying to explain his abilities.

Ky stopped to borrow a gladius, bow, and a flight of arrows from the quartermaster. His sidearm wasn’t right for what he needed to do, and he wanted to save ammo until he absolutely needed it, since there was no telling what he’d face in the future.

Ky walked out of the camp, the eyes of the soldiers on him as he walked east away from the army. He was certain they’d talk amongst themselves about what his leaving meant, but he wasn’t particularly worried about it. He’d be back with the army before the main event happened. He’d make sure to move among the troops, so they knew he was still with them. He still didn’t think this whole Sword of Jupiter thing was a good idea, but he didn’t seem to have much choice in the matter. Word had clearly already spread out among the soldiers, and you couldn’t keep soldiers from talking.

Once he was far enough out of camp, Ky accelerated, pushing his augmented muscles hard to cover the ground needed. Considering the size of the area Carthaginian scouts could be operating in, even using the Infrared or Thermal settings on the drone wouldn’t have been enough for Ky to be confident he caught all of them. Thankfully, he didn’t need to find them alone.

“Have you identified all enemy targets?” he asked the AI as he crossed the ridge that would be a major feature of today’s battle.

“Affirmative commander. Seven Carthaginian scouts have been identified.”

“Assign the priority of targets by the probability of escape and map on my HUD. Keep checking for more of them. We can’t let even one get away.”

Ky’s helmet snapped into place as an array of data began flashing across his vision. The take from the drone reduced to one corner of the heavily tinted visor as a map showing his position and those of the seven Carthaginians he needed to deal with before the Ninth Legion began to march. A suggested vector connected each of the enemy points together as the AI continually updated positions and how he should approach them.

The first wasn’t far from Ky. His golden flight suit altered pattern as it adjusted into stealth mode, something he hadn’t asked the AI to do. Ky added it to the growing list of things to be concerned about that he couldn’t do anything about.

He knew the scouts would be watching each other’s positions just as much as they were watching the Romans, to prevent exactly what Ky was trying to do. While Ky didn’t have time to do this stealthily he wasn’t going to be out in the open either. There was no way people from this time could comprehend, let alone expect, a hostile to partially blend into the background. Coupled with the speeds he’d be moving at, their first instinct would be to dismiss the moving patch of discoloration as a figment of their imagination. If he did it right, they wouldn’t know they were in trouble until he was right on top of them.

The first Carthaginian didn’t see him coming. He’d been staring intently at the Roman camps when Ky exploded through him, bow in one hand and sword stabbing forward in the other, his enhanced muscles lifting the man off the ground in an arc. Ky slowed enough to pull the blade from the man’s chest and then accelerated again. Partly because Ky was hard to spot and moving fast and partly because they were focusing on the Romans, Ky was able to dispatch four more before they started to notice something was wrong. This was thanks mostly to the fourth man letting out a scream as he was stabbed. Ky’s blade had gone in at an angle and missed killing the man instantly or otherwise rendering him unable to scream as he’d been able to do with the scouts up to that point.

The sixth sentry somehow picked Ky out of the surrounding fields and brought up his sword in self-defense. It was a valiant effort, but it didn’t change the outcome. Ky didn’t even bother attempting to block the weapon as it slashed down towards him, instead letting the blade slide off his kinetic shielding as if the man had tried to cut down steel. The scout eyes widened, and his mouth dropped in surprise as a blue shimmer appeared as his sword bounced off the shield. That expression would be locked onto his face forever as Ky’s sword removed his head from the rest of his body, sending it bouncing into the tall grass.

The final scout was close to the tree line and furthest from Ky’s starting point, holding the other scouts’ mounts as they had crept forward to get a look at the Roman line. He happened to be looking in Ky’s direction when he decapitated his comrade. Dropping the other reins, he jumped on the closest horse and turned to escape.

Ky stopped running and dropped the sword and brought up the bow, pulling an arrow out of the rectangular pouch with the connected belt that he’d attached around his waist. In a single motion, he pulled the arrow back, following the muscle cues sent to him by the AI, and aligned the arrow with the provided guide path.

The arrow flew through the air, and dropped down in a smooth arc, ending exactly at the point where the arrow’s trajectory met the fleeing scout, slamming into the man’s back at a downward angle, burying itself almost to the fletching, the tip just exploding out of his stomach. The impact sent the man spinning off the side of his horse in a corkscrew motion. The panicked animal didn’t even seem to notice its falling rider as the smell of copper hit its nostrils, kicking its flight response into overdrive.

After he had the AI do one more sweep to confirm all the Carthaginian scouts were gone, Ky began an easy jog back to the Roman camp. It occurred to him that while firing the bow, the AI finally felt in sync with his actions as it was supposed to. He hadn’t realized it, but he’d started subtly fighting with the computer intelligence for control in most actions. It was so minimal the struggle had been going on at a nearly subconscious level. For whatever reason, perhaps because firing the arrow was closest to his training and experience in fighter combat, the temporary syncing up of himself and the AI brought the strangeness that had been bothering him into stark relief.

Now he just had to figure out what he needed to do about it while fighting a battle against massively unbalanced odds.

Chapter 9

“Why are you fighting me?” Ky asked the AI as he walked back to the Roman lines.

“Query not understood. Please restate.”

“I have to work harder to get my muscles to do what I need them to do. I didn’t notice it before, but you are giving small countermanding decisions.”

“No unauthorized motor function commands have been issued by this unit, Commander. Suggest a diagnostic system scan at the earliest convenience.”

Ky was certain any diagnostics scan would end up the same. If the AI couldn’t detect what it was doing, there seemed little chance that an internal diagnostics would come up with anything. A full medscan would have probably found the problem, but Ky already had a good guess what they’d find. He’d been warned the AI was on the way to self-awareness and who knew what affect the bridge transition had on it.

“Begin a log of all actions, commands, and processes starting now.”

“Logging process begun, Commander.”

Ky crossed over the top of the rise south of Devnum, looking down on the assembling Roman forces. The Roman front line was just over a mile away, and Ky wanted to refrain from using any abilities that might set off the Romans more than he’d already shown, so he was happy to see someone had sent forward a rider with a spare horse to bring him back to the assembling soldiers.

“How are we looking, Legate?” Ky said as he rode up to Aelius and his aides.

“The Ninth has formed up and we’ve got the Levy collected if a little disorganized. Lartius has assigned some of his men to ride behind them and push stragglers forward. We should be ready to move by the eighth hour. I’ve dispatched our scouts to push away any Carthaginian scouts as best we can. If we can keep them past the tree line they shouldn’t be able to give away our position.”

Aelius paused for a moment before continuing, casting a worried glance at Ky, “I know you said you would clear out the Carthaginians, but I felt it would be … ahh … prudent to check again.”

“Don’t worry, Legate, I won’t take good generalship as an insult. I’d want to double-check if I was in your position. I can, however, promise that all of the Carthaginian scouts have been taken care of.”

“Of course, Dominous. Thank you for understanding my presumption.”

“We don’t have a lot of time, let’s get them on the move.”

♦♦♦

Carthaginian Army, Forest Road South of Devnum

Zaracas leaned heavily on his saddle, his head throbbing from all the wine he’d drunk the night before. He smiled to himself, remembering the girl. She’d been fun, enough so that it was a pity she wouldn’t be healed enough to be available for his post-battle celebration. Of course, by the evening he expected some new Roman slaves to be available. He’d take consolation in breaking in some of the new ones.

He sat up as he crossed the tree line, his soldiers fanning out into deep phalanxes, pushing forward as new rows moved into position. He had to admit it was an impressive sight and showed their immense power. As powerful as this army was, he’d seen the real Carthaginian host. This would be just one wing of a vanguard unit of the great host. Still, this was the thing most Carthaginian generals rarely got, independent command.

“Sub-Commander,” he said, waving over his cavalry commander. “Array your forces close to the tree line. I do not want any of the Romans to get in behind us.”

“Yes, my lord. Should I also send scouts into the forest?”

“For what? We are on the Roman’s doorstep. We have more soldiers in this army than the Romans have in their entire empire. They have no choice but to put out everything available to stop us. Now is the time for real warriors to show their mettle Sub-Commander.”

The Calvary commander made a face, but otherwise didn’t comment; which, given the ruthlessness of the men who survived long enough to become generals, was very wise. Instead, he saluted and turned to carry out his leader’s orders.

Zaracas watched the man ride away and made a mental note to have him observed for possible elimination. He had no time for men who didn’t have the stomach for victory. His attention towards the cavalry commander was forgotten as unusual sounds began to carry to him. It wasn’t loud, at first, but the rhythmic nature of was unusual, almost unnatural.

Two sharp metallic sounds followed by a deeper sound. Bang. Bang. Thud. … Bang. Bang. Thud. It continued, the sounds rolling over the rolling hill that separated the Romans from the Carthaginian army.

“What is that noise?” Zaracas demanded, grabbing a nearby runner.

“I … I don’t know, my lord.”

“Go find out,” he said, pushing the younger man towards the front line.

The sound grated on Zaracas. He knew the Romans were taunting him, calling out to him to start the battle. Maybe their plan was to force him into a reckless attack, hoping he’d make some kind of mistake. Zaracas snorted at the thought. The Romans position must be truly weak if they had to resort to tricks.

♦♦♦

Roman Ninth Legion

Velius watched his soldiers as they banged on their shields and stomped their feet. It might not be much when a few men do it, but five thousand men banging their shields and stomping in unison made a near-deafening amount of noise. He could feel the vibrations through the ground with each stomp.

While the Sword had given them several unusual tasks as part of his battle plan, this one seemed the most pointless. He was all for intimidating an opponent, but the Carthaginians already knew they vastly outnumbered the Romans. No amount of noise was going to intimidate them. He couldn’t imagine any reason for this, but he also didn’t ask the Sword about it. If the man felt this needed to be part of his strategy, Velius wasn’t going to argue with him.

Sitting on his horse, the Legate looked over his first cohort, who was placed on the far right of his line, next to the first cohort of the Fifth Legion. The two together were to be the center of the Roman line, and the rock that the rest of the Roman forces would form off. Carthaginians still held to the old Greek ideas of the phalanx, whose job was to push a line with a wall of spears until the enemy line broke, letting the rear echelons of their line, mostly made up of light infantry, exploit the break and turn both opposing flanks from the middle.

It wasn’t a bad strategy and had served first the Greeks and then the Carthaginians for centuries. Velius was a firm believer in the Roman system of heavy infantry that was able to form both an effective wall and able to take advantage of its own exploits. Since the entire Roman line was equally trained and equipped infantry, it could pivot and switch direction with a single signal. It wasn’t unheard of for a Roman legion to fight in four directions at once or turn to face a surprise attack on their rear with a single signal from the cornicen.

Of course, none of that mattered when the phalanxes pushing against a legion outnumbered them ten to one, which is what the Romans had faced over the last several hundred years.

Velius was about to turn and check on his flanks, making sure his forces were steady and ready to stand up to what was about to come over the hill in front of them, when Globulus and his aides came riding up.

“Velius, prepare your legion to march forward. We will be taking the attack to the Carthaginians within the half-hour.”

Velius was floored. He’d always thought of Globulus as a pompous blowhard who exhibited every bad trait from Romans older traditions, more concerned with his own position and power than even the existence of Rome as a people.

Globulus was, however, a political animal before anything, and this move seemed to go against every instinct Velius imagined the older man had. The Emperor had made it clear he did not support a frontal attack and that he’d given the Sword reign over the Roman strategy.

There was no way Globulus could go so blatantly against the Emperor and survive, politically. Unless, of course, he managed to defeat the Carthaginians, which seemed ludicrous. Even the Sword’s plans seemed a long shot at best. Globulus’s thick-headed charge into the teeth of the Carthaginian phalanx was tantamount to suicide.

“Legate, the Emperor decreed that …”

“I don’t care. I’m not going to let my people die because the Emperor has been taken in by a charlatan. I am giving you a direct order. You will have your legion form up with mine and be prepared to march. Now.”

“No. You are not in command here, Globulus. The Emperor gave overall command to the Sword.”

Globulus spat on the ground at Velius’s feet.

“After I crush the Carthaginians, the true Romans in the Senate will see you, and your friend hang.”

“Legate, don’t do this. Their line is too large. They’ll wipe out your legion to a man. We need your forces to hold the Carthaginian forces. You’re putting all of Rome at risk.”

“No! I’m saving Rome and showing you all what a real leader can do. You can rot here, coward,” the older Legate said and turned his back, riding towards his already marching men.

Velius spared the man one last glare as he all but assured the Roman destruction before turning to his subordinate.

“Gordianus, have your cohort hold here. Runners!”

The last word was shouted at the line of young men on horseback following Velius at a short distance that worked as messengers to allow him to communicate with the various parts of his legion.

“Notify the Fifth Cohort to deploy on the far left, anchoring on the Fourth Cohort. Make sure Viridius knows he is on the far end of the line. If he has to pivot to keep from having his flank turned, he is to do it on his own initiative. You five, notify the Sixth, Seventh, Eighth, Ninth, and Tenth Cohorts to form on Gordianus’s right, in reverse order, with the Tenth formed next to Gordianus and the Sixth on the extreme right. Dexippus is also authorized to pivot, as needed, on his authority. Inform all Cohorts that the second and third lines of reserves are gone. If any fall back our line will break, and the way will be clear to Devnum. We must hold until the Ninth Legion can engage.”

“Should we try and get word to the Sword and let him know what’s happened?” Gordianus asked.

“The Carthaginians should be forming up by now. Any messenger getting caught would risk tipping our hand. Besides, the Sword seems to have ways of knowing what’s happening.”

♦♦♦

Roman Ninth Legion

“What the hell is he doing,” Ky said out loud as he watched the feed from the drone.

“Dominous?” Aelius asked at the seemingly unprompted statement.

“Globulus is moving his legion forward towards the Carthaginians. Velius is holding position, deploying all of his legions in a single line to try and cover the entire front by himself.”

“The Carthaginians are seven deep,” Aelius said in surprise. “If they see Velius is spread so thin, they can extend out and wrap around his entire legion. Should we begin the attack early and come to their aide.”

“No. They haven’t deployed over the ridge yet. If we move now, they will totally smash us.”

“So, we just wait as the fat idiot gets all his men killed?”

“Throwing your legion at a larger force with no hope of victory, won’t keep his men from being killed. It would just ensure yours, and then Velius’s, get wiped out alongside him.”

Aelius fell silent. He was not able to refute Ky’s words, yet did not want to agree with them.

Ky watched as the Fifth Legion crested a rise, marching with practiced precision towards the Carthaginian line. The AI put up estimates for the Carthaginian army at just over forty thousand soldiers while Globulus had just over five thousand. There was no way he could possibly expect to win against those odds, especially not with a straight frontal assault.

The only thing Globulus’s plan had going for it was the Carthaginians clearly didn’t expect the Romans to go on the offensive, not when they were outnumbered so badly. Their archers’ phalanxes had started to deploy for battle, but they didn’t have time to get everyone in line. Worse, they were deploying by layering in their units from their right-wing towards their left, filling all the reserve units in place before they began their next block of units to the left. Globulus had been on the Roman far right, which mean he was coming against units still moving into position.

Worse for the Carthaginians, their left-wing was just moving into position when Globulus started his attack. While it took some time for the Romans to cross the plains and crest the hill that separated the two forces, the Carthaginian units with their long spears and need for tightly packed, and well-controlled soldiers meant they moved even slower. Anything short of a mad rush towards the rear would have left Carthaginian units exposed and vulnerable to attack, and while their already formed units in the center did have time to pivot and reform for a counter-assault, they couldn’t do so without getting tangled up in their own men.

What that meant for the Carthaginians, was their phalanxes were going to be hit right as they formed up, their units still loose and missing several ranks. For a phalanx, this was very bad, especially when fighting a Roman legion with their heavy infantry and large shields.

Not that Ky thought Globulus’s good luck would save him in the end.

As expected, the initial assault went well for the Romans. They smashed into the poorly formed Carthaginian units who all but fell apart at first contact. New units began streaming in to reinforce them, but the piecemeal nature of it made them just more grist for the mill. They were, however, enough to slow the Fifth Legion’s advance. Ky hadn’t built a lot of respect for the Roman Legate over their few meetings, but he’d assumed the man had built up some tactical ability as one of Rome’s leading generals.

Watching as the battle unfolded, Ky was soon disabused of that notion.

Globulus kept pushing forward, heedless of any danger as he seemed fully focused on wiping out the Carthaginians in front of him, who were already stiffening resistance and had managed to stop falling back from the assaulting Romans.

The elder General tried to push out additional cohorts to surround the Carthaginian phalanx and turn in on the Carthaginians, Ky thought that the General hoped to form up against the tree line and draw out a sizable portion of the Carthaginian units to allow the Seventh and Ninth Legions to attack what units remained from both sides, effectively splitting the Carthaginian army and destroying it in detail.

If this had been his plan, it was doomed from the start. The Carthaginians reacted too fast for Globulus to be able to turn and position himself properly. Instead, as he sent reserve units around the right of the phalanx in front of him, a second Carthaginian phalanx slammed into his Legion’s side.

To his men’s credit, the legionnaires turned to meet this new threat, but it was too late. Globulus’s left began to close in on itself. It began slowly, with one or two men from each century, and then a handful, and finally, dozens at a time turned and ran, only to find a third phalanx sweeping around the right of the unit that had hit it on its side. Right as Globulus began to deploy his remaining cohorts to his rear, his front line collapsed. The sight of Carthaginian phalanxes closing in from the front and the sides coupled with their fellow legionnaires dropping their weapons as they ran turned the retreat into a full-on rout. The units that kept their men in line paid the price for their bravery, dying where they stood. The men who’d tried to save themselves by running found their situation no better. Most were caught by the phalanx closing in on their rear, that’d been ordered to give no quarter.

Ky watched as Globulus went down, trying to rally his men, knocked down by terrified soldiers. Ky watched the Legate go down, crushed by legionnaires tripping over him or stepping on him in their mad dash to escape, followed by Carthaginians chasing the running Romans.

Perhaps a few hundred of the five thousand legionnaires that crossed over the ridge with Globulus managed to escape back to the Roman lines. Most of those didn’t even bother trying to reform with the Seventh Legion. They just kept running, and probably wouldn’t stop until they hit the walls of Devnum.

Thankfully, Velius managed to maintain order in his men and kept any of them from being swept up in the retreating legionnaires’ panic.

Ky could only watch as the Carthaginians began to reform their lines.

♦♦♦

Roman Seventh Legion

Velius’s stomach knotted as the Carthaginian army crested the ridge. Row after row of spear-carrying men followed one after another. It felt to him, standing in front of his thinned out legion, that the wave of soldiers would never end.

Silently he cursed Globulus again. He’d heard enough from the running legionnaires to know that the general was almost certainly dead, having taken almost half of the Roman forces with him. Their task had been all but impossible with the Fifth Legion, and now they had to make do with just one legion of five thousand men to stop nearly thirty-five thousand remaining Carthaginians. Even the Sword’s clever plans didn’t seem to have a chance to stop them.

Velius smiled as he realized that at least he wouldn’t be alive to see the end of Rome. Like generations of warriors before him, Velius had developed a soldier’s graveside humor.

“First line, stand ready,” Velius said to the cornicen standing near him.

The man lifted the large, curled trumpet and blew a string of notes, which were picked up by the cornicen attached to each Century and repeated, passing the message down the line. Velius could almost see a ripple as the Romans, who’d up to this point held their shields at rest against the ground, lifted them in preparation for combat. The noise his legion had been creating as they banged their swords against their shields and stomped their feet in unison to taunt the Carthaginians stopped, each now preparing for combat. The sudden silence, at least in comparison to the racket his legion had been making, was startling.

The Carthaginians had finished coming over the rise and spread out in front of them. Even outnumbered, the Roman Legion was able to operate more thinned out than the phalanx, which was required to be tightly packed to be effective and required a deeper set of rows. The Carthaginian general clearly didn’t plan on getting clever and formed up dead center on the Roman line. They’d learned from harsh experience of the years that if they tried to flank Romans, the more nimble legion’s ability to turn allowed a good Roman general to swing around and flank their slower attackers instead.

By this point, Carthaginians had worked out a standard strategy of getting to grips with enough of a legion that the Romans wouldn’t be able to hold the Carthaginians in place with part of their line and wrap around the remaining sections, rolling out Cohorts as they turned, which was precisely what Globulus had attempted, and failed, to do in his attack.

Velius also assumed that the Carthaginian general took one look at the thinned out Roman line and its lack of reserve cohorts and decided he didn’t need to get fancy.

Once all the Carthaginian phalanxes were lined up, they began to march forward. Velius turned to look back at Sepurcius, making sure he was ready for the command. Getting a signal that he was watching Velius turned back towards the Carthaginians, arm held high, and he waited for the Carthaginians to cross an imaginary line he’d placed in the field.

The moment the front line of Carthaginians crossed his imaginary point, Velius swung his arm down. As one, the men assigned to the onagers released the ropes holding their throwing arms in place. Two dozen small objects hurtled over the Carthaginian line, back almost as far as where the plains began to raise up.

From this horse, Velius could see several Carthaginian heads snap around, confused. Normally they would see hundreds of point stones smashing into the body of the phalanx, and Velius wondered if they realized this was a new strategy or if they thought the Romans had collectively missed.

Not that they’d have long to ponder the question. Each small jug smashed into the ground, releasing the mixture that the Sword had given Sepurcius. Smoke exploded from each of them as the components mixed, expanding out in billows. The reaction didn’t last long, but it was a still day, which allowed the smoke to hang in the air behind the Carthaginians, creating a wall of smoke.

What their opponents thought of the ploy would have to wait for later, Velius thought, as the front ranks of Carthaginians smashed into the waiting Roman line, and men began to die.

♦♦♦

Ninth Legion

“Move your men to the edge of the tree line. Make sure your centurions keep them back far enough to not be seen,” Ky said to Aelius as he watched the Carthaginian line move over the ridge.

“Yes, Dominous,” Aelius said, slapping a fist to his chest and turning to pass instructions to his runners.

Ky wasn’t concerned about the cavalry, which had moved forward several dozen yards once the phalanxes had marched, would hear them. The noise of the thousands of men on the march nearby and their own rearguard, mostly made up of siege equipment to be used on the city itself and the Carthaginian baggage train, moving up behind made it hard for anyone to hear anything.

Ky recalled the drone and watched the archers and cavalry form up close to the front, staggered with an archer in between each rider, with the legionnaires forming up in ranks behind them. Ky silently prodded the legionnaires forward. Every minute extra put Velius’s men in danger. Ky had no doubt that the Legate would do all he could, but he didn’t think the Seventh would last much longer than the Fifth did. The numbers were just stacked too far against them.

As soon as the bulk of the legionnaires were in place, Ky picked up the bow he’d carried since the morning and drew an arrow. He had to hold the position for a moment as the AI made the necessary calculations, sending the drone around for multiple angles and readings of ambient conditions. Finally a solution overlaid itself on Ky’s vision. He released the arrow, which flew up through the branches of the trees around him and through the canopy. Ky watched through the drone as the arrow soared up in an arc, over the forest road and down through the canopy on the other side, missing branches and tearing through leaves, finally embedding itself a handful of meters in front of the detached group of militia and their assigned legionnaires.

It was the signal they’d waited for. As one they rose up and charged forward, through the trees towards the forest road.

“Go,” Ky said to the legionnaires near him, and the rest of the city levy did the same.

Ky didn’t wait to see what happened. He knew as soon as they burst through the trees and attacked, the cavalry and rear guard would notice.

Word had already passed up to Aelius, who’d been instructed to not wait for him. Before Ky reached the tree line, the archers released a flight of arrows that tore their way through the mounted horseman and into the single phalanx that had been left with them for a rear guard.

Ky could almost hear the Carthaginian’s shock as men around them began to fall from the sudden surprise attack. Soldiers were climbing off horses to check their comrades, looking at the arrows to try and reason what had just happened, or just looking around in confusion when the Roman cavalry burst through the trees.

The cavalry of this time was not made for shock attacks. Without the benefit of stirrups, a rider could be easily dismounted. They were normally used as mounted archers and light skirmishers, slashing with sabers, and then riding away.

That was all that was needed for this, however. The Carthaginian riders were just as vulnerable to being displaced, and the reserve phalanx was facing the wrong direction. The Roman cavalry just needed to take a swipe at the front line and veer off, to make way for the Roman infantry that would be following up behind them. The one, two, three punch was designed to keep the Carthaginians from getting any type of defense in place.

The Carthaginians were starting to panic after the shock of the Romans’ surprise attack, and Ky then pushed them over the edge.

Ky burst from the forest right behind the cavalry. In the time it took them to cross the open field between the trees and the Carthaginian cavalry, Ky’s augmented body had pushed him past the furthest Romans. He’d never tested it full out, and Ky doubted he could outpace a horse at full gallop, but it took the large beasts time to get up to speed and their riders didn’t push them to that extreme, since at these shorter distances stopping or turning without the horses breaking their legs required a slightly slower pace.

That didn’t keep the Roman riders from being astonished as a golden blur tore past their horses and cut through three Carthaginian riders as if they weren’t there. Men and horses fell bleeding, and Ky didn’t even slow down. His target was the phalanx.

Men were just starting to turn around as Ky exploded into them, bodily smashing into the rear ranks, his kinetic shielding reacting as if he’d smashed into the ground. Several Carthaginians were sent flying over their nearest comrades only to come smashing down onto the heads and spears of those further ahead of them.

Ky had to brace to keep from falling over from the impact. Bent slightly forward he was face to face, or at least flight helmet to face, with a terrified Carthaginian who was seeing something his brain couldn’t comprehend. The warrior didn’t have time to contemplate the unknown as Ky righted himself, slashing up with his sword as he planted his legs and straightened his back. Ky’s sword slashed up the man’s middle, exploding through his jaw, sending a long arc of blood sailing over the falling man’s comrades.

Ky began attacking as fast as the AI could plot solutions, his sword stabbing and slashing in an almost blur. The buzz saw working its way through their ranks was the final straw. Men threw down their pikes and tried to flee in all directions.

The largest group attempted to retrace the path they’d marched that morning, unaware that their way was blocked by Romans tearing through their baggage train and camp followers. Ky ignored that group, reasoning they’d bottle themselves up. His main concern was someone breaking through to the main Carthaginian line, and giving them warning of what was coming.

The AI maintained a track on anyone heading towards the bulk of the Carthaginian forces as Ky worked his way through them. He was a blur across the battlefield, hobbling horses, pulling riders off their mount’s back and tossing them one-handed through the air, and cutting through foot soldiers. Even with his exceptional abilities, he probably wouldn’t have been able to get everyone, but the Roman Cavalry made up the difference, chasing down stragglers.

By the time his plot cleared and he had a chance to look up, the only remaining Carthaginians were running either east or west, effectively taking themselves off the board.

Ky slowed to a normal speed, jogging back up to the Ninth’s command group. He was happy to note that after the Carthaginians had been routed, Aelius had pulled his legionnaires back together and reformed for the main attack as they’d planned, leaving everything else to the Cavalry. As he watched, the legionnaires spread out to be only a single century deep. It wouldn’t give them any depth for a protracted battle, but it should allow the Ninth to stretch the entire length of the much more tightly packed Seventh Legion, or the Carthaginians.

Legionnaires parted as Ky walked through them, giving Ky a wide berth as he went. With a mental command, his helmet retracted into the collar of his flight suit, vanishing out of sight.

“Good job getting your people back together, Legate,” Ky said as he walked up to Aelius’s horse, putting a hand on its side, and looking up at the commander.

“Dominous … I … how …” the roman said, with a mixed expression of terror and awe on his face.

“Aelius, snap out of it, we still have a lot of work to do.”

“Yes, Dominous. I was just … Yes. We are ready to march at your command. A unit of horsemen will remain behind to clean up the Carthaginians. The rest should join us here in a moment.”

“Then let’s move. Velius can’t last long. Once we hit the wall of smoke, have your men charge for all their worth.”

“Legionnaires,” Aelius called in a tone that carried surprisingly far.

The line repeated the message until it traveled down the length of the entire line.

“Forward.”

Ky pushed through to the front of the line of Romans as they marched.

Ky stepped up the pace, and the legionnaires matched him, their front line officers seeming to pace themselves off of him. Keeping this in mind, Ky stopped accelerating at what would be a steady but not too exhaustive a pace for the legionnaires, as they crossed the remaining two-hundred yards to the hill. Sending his helmet snapping back into place, Ky pulled up the feed from the drone, which he sent zipping back to Velius’ lines.

Things were not going well, there. The Seventh hadn’t broken, but it was continually contracting under the weight of Carthaginian soldiers, as both flanks began to bend back on themselves. If this kept up, the Romans would either end up in a circle or break completely. Roman dead littered the ground passed over by the Carthaginians.

To their credit, a larger number of Carthaginian dead lay alongside them.

Seeing the trouble Velius was in, Ky began a slight jog as he hit the ridge and started to go over the other side. The Romans behind him followed suit, with everyone picking up speed as they began their descent down the hill.

The wall of smoke had started to dissipate, and Ky was a little concerned that the Carthaginians might notice them, but everyone seemed intent on the battle to their front. From the perspective of the Drone, Ky could see the Carthaginians had divided their force in two, with half actively engaging the Romans and the other half held in reserve, with their officers in the center of the line, and between both forces.

Had the Carthaginian reserve noticed in time and turned around, they could have more than matched the Ninth Legion, which was smaller than the Seventh, and would have beaten both forces simultaneously. Thankfully, none of the Carthaginians realized what was happening until the legionnaires broke through the bank of smoke and started screaming like banshees, charging full out.

It was a repeat of the attack by the forest as men turned, wasting precious moments to figure out what was happening. The main difference was that Ky didn’t charge into them. He knew this would be a harder fight than the attack on the single phalanx and knew they could use one more advantage over the Carthaginians. He’d picked out the leader of the Carthaginian army through the drone as he’d charged down the hill, or at least the man who looked to be giving directions to the Carthaginian units. He decided that the leader and his aides would serve as a good subject for his planned spectacle. When he got within ten feet of the Carthaginians, Ky pushed himself off the ground as hard as he could, leaping clear over the reserve units of Carthaginians and landing an arm’s length from their commander.

The entire command group froze as Ky landed in their midst. Unlike their rearguard, they had yet to notice the charging Romans. The man Ky had tagged as their leader was just turning to look at the bizarre figure who’d landed next to him when Ky slashed back with one arm, the end of his sword catching the man in the neck.

His aides recoiled in horror as his head, sailing away from his body, bounced several times before coming to rest at the feet of his line of reserves. The spell caused by their leader’s decapitation was interrupted when Ky exploded into action. Kicking forward he smashed into the side of a horse, sending it and its rider smashing into the back rows of warriors currently engaged with the Romans. Ky proceeded to take apart the rest of the command group, purposefully making each attack as much of a spectacle as possible.

Men were flying in all directions as Ky punched, kicked, and threw them violently into their fellow warriors. Those who weren’t sent flying joined their leader’s headless body as it bled out onto the golden-brown grass. In the open area in between the two sections of Carthaginians, and with the human missiles as signals to gain everyone’s attention, Ky was impossible to miss. Sections of the front line not currently engaged with the Romans and a fairly large portion of the reserve forces all stopped and watched as Ky obliterated their leaders, moving so quickly that no one managed to escape.

As Ky had hoped, most of the reserve forces had forgotten about the charging Romans, who suddenly struck the unprepared forces from behind as they stared at the death of their leaders. The only thing that kept the reserves from completely dissolving was the sheer number of soldiers in the Carthaginian ranks, which were significantly deeper than their Roman counterparts.

By the time the Romans pushed halfway through the lines of Carthaginian reserves, their defense stiffened. Unlike the rearguard that had broken and ran, these men were trapped between two forces, and knew if they threw down their weapons they would be killed. Unfortunately for the Carthaginians - who, even at this point, outnumbered the Roman forces - they’d been forced to drop their heavy shields and long spears, in order to turn completely around and defend themselves.

This left them too lightly armored to counter the Roman push, causing them to steadily give ground towards the rear of their front line.

Horns sounded up and down the Roman Seventh Legion, signaling for them to begin pushing forward. With the leadership demolished, and the Ninth making good progress against the reserve forces, Ky moved to help the seventh.

Cutting his way through several rows of men until he was directly in the middle of the Carthaginian phalanx, Ky pulled his sidearm and fired two rounds, one in each direction along the Carthaginian line. The ball of super-heated plasma burned dozens of yards each way, completely obliterating those directly in its path and setting several rows on either side on fire. Ky had made sure to fire parallel to the Roman front line, so he didn’t set their large wooden shields on fire by accident. While this meant the front lines of Carthaginians were unharmed, the sudden destruction of the men behind them and the support to keep pushing forward against the Romans was enough to take its toll.

The center of the Carthaginian line disintegrated and Roman legionnaires pored through the hole, attacking the newly created flanks. Without the reserve forces to try and plug the gap, the Carthaginian line began to come apart. Men, who’d been too engaged in fighting to notice the Romans in their rear, tried to turn and run, only to find their reserve forces in the way.

The Carthaginian lines began to crumble, trying to escape out the sides not currently bracketed by Roman units. For their part, the Romans continued pressing hard, ensuring the Carthaginians were thoroughly broken.

Ky moved from pocket of resistance to pocket of resistance, a deadly golden blur cutting its way through warriors who’d tried to resist or fight their way out. It didn’t matter in the end. A good portion of the Carthaginian army actually survived, with more turning to run than actually died on the battlefield.

Roman Cavalry harassed them and would do so for a while, to ensure they kept running until they made it back to Londinium. Ky looked across the battlefield, and the two groups of Romans still finishing off the last Carthaginian resistance.

He couldn’t believe it. They’d won!

Chapter 10

While the legionnaires finished off the last pockets of resistance, Ky found Velius near the front of his troops, yelling and even kicking a few to get his units pulled back together. Ky was fairly surprised by the sheer chaos he found around him.

“Dominous,” Velius said as soon as he saw Ky. “Your plan worked. When the Carthaginian bastards crossed the ridgeline, and I saw just how many of them we faced, I was almost certain we were done for. You should be proud.”

“While I am pleased with our victory, the price we had to pay is too high. It will take a while to recover from this. If the Carthaginians were smart and followed up the attack, there wouldn’t be enough clever tricks in the world to save us.”

“I don’t think they can. Ramirus seemed to think this was the bulk of the ground forces the Carthaginians had on Britannia. They will need to pull in additional forces, maybe all the way from Africa. That will take time.”

“That’s some good news, at least. Are your victories always so … chaotic?”

Ky was looking around at men searching through dead bodies for loot, wandering off, and generally no longer functioning as an army.

“Usually. At least they haven’t realized yet there’s still the Carthaginian baggage train to be had. The men take their bounty very seriously and look forward to a battle so they can claim their part of the spoils.”

Ky frowned at this statement.

“Do you have some men that will follow my orders and not join in on the looting?”

“Strabo’s men were at the front of the First Cohort and saw you in action. I’d be willing to bet they’d follow your lead.”

Ky hadn’t realized that Velius, who he’d lost track of when the assault started, had been close enough to the front to see him.

“I need to take them with me to secure the baggage train. While I’m gone, I need you to ensure the Carthaginian soldiers are allowed to surrender. Find a place to contain them until I talk with the Emperor about them. They are to be fed, given tents if possible, and be well treated. Is that clear? Aelius should be nearby, make sure his men know this.”

“Yes, Dominous.”

While Velius seemed a little thrown by the order, he took it in stride and didn’t protest, which Ky appreciated. They may have won, but Ky still had a lot of work to do and was already thinking about his long term plans now that he’d thrown in with the Romans.

Collecting the Romans, Ky ordered them to fall in behind him and marched towards the baggage train. He wouldn’t have thought it possible, but when they eventually arrived, they found the scene even more chaotic that the main battlefield.

Some of the camp followers, many of whom had been women, had tried to run towards the main Carthaginian forces and were stopped short of the tree line. Ky had at first through they were also digging through fallen Carthaginians looking for something of value. What he found when he got closer disturbed him to his very core.

“Get off her!” Ky screamed, grabbing a man by the back of his neck, and sending him flying over some of the gathered men watching the scene.

All of the men froze, staring at Ky in wide-eyed fear, allowing the women to scramble off the ground and escape. Although a few of the assaulted women ran back down the road away from the Romans, the bulk of them ran behind Ky, pulling their torn clothing to cover themselves as best as they could.

“Centurion!” Ky shouted without turning around.

“Yes, Dominous?” Strabo said, moving quickly to Ky’s side, his voice sounding wary.

“Take your men and secure the Carthaginian baggage train and all prisoners. If you see any more scenes like this, I expect you to step in. Civilians who participated in the battle can go back to the city, but I want any legionnaires to be held until I can talk to them. Arrange for the captains to help transport, under guard, all of the Carthaginian equipment and treasure back to the Seventh Legion. I want every weapon, piece of armor, and clothing collected. No looting. Leave me five men and get to it. I’ll see you back at the Seventh.”

The centurion saluted, pointed out five men to stay behind, and moved quickly down the forest road towards what remained of the Carthaginian baggage carts.

“You five will escort these women to the Seventh Legion and inform Velius that I want them held with the other Carthaginian prisoners until we can figure out what to do with all of them. He is to set up a separate holding area for women. They are to be guarded and have their safety ensured.”

Ky stopped and looked at one of the men in the eyes to make sure he took the next sentence seriously.

“If anything happens to these women, I will hold you five personally responsible,” Ky said with menace in his voice.

“Yes, Dominus.”

Ky let his voice soften and said, “Show me the honor I know a Roman legionnaire has, and I won’t forget your service.”

“Thank you, Dominus. You heard him. Let’s go.”

Ky left them to wrangle the terrified women, who’d at least been mollified by Ky’s words enough to go with the Romans and headed back towards the Roman legions.

By the time Ky got back to the battleground, the bulk of the Romans were gone, with scattered parties working to collect weapons and the dead. The Roman camp was a hive of activity when Ky finally reached it. He was surprised, although he realized he probably shouldn’t have been, to find the Emperor had arrived and was conferring with Aelius and Velius.

“The man of the hour,” Germanicus said as Ky pushed through the tent flap. “I knew you’d come through for us.”

“You were the only one then. I was certain of nothing.”

“That’s because you still refuse to believe the gods brought you to us in our moment of need. I, however, have the wisdom to see the truth.”

The Emperor gave a mischievous smile suggesting he was at least partially messing with him. Ky couldn’t help but return the smile. So far he’d mostly seen a dour, serious leader worried about his people’s survival. It was interesting to see a window into parts of the man’s personality he’d suppressed for expediency.

“Now that the immediate danger is passed, there are many things I want to discuss with you. The most pressing being the lack of discipline I saw in the legionnaires after their victory. I found some of your men doing unspeakable things. Murdering, looting, and abusing prisoners.”

“If there had been a pressing danger, I assure you my men would have kept things in check,” Velius said defensively. “After a battle like this, men need to vent their anger and feel like they’ve benefited from victory. It’s how soldiers are.”

The looks of agreement on the faces around him stunned Ky.

“Not where I come from. We treat prisoners as human beings. We do things according to laws, not on a soldier’s whim. I will not be a party to this kind of thinking.”

Ky knew, of course, this wasn’t entirely true. There’d been plenty of instances of atrocities among his own people. The ideal, however, deserved to be upheld.

“I can only say that we will listen to what you have to say and if at all possible, we’ll do what we can to implement change. I think I can safely say that all of my legates understand that you are the only reason there is still a Rome at all. I hope I can infer from your statement that you plan on staying with us?”

“Although I started to have second thoughts about the decision; yes, I think I am going to stay. I want to warn you, there are a lot of changes I’m going to suggest. Some of them, like suggestions for new tools and technology, your people will see the immediate benefits and will agree easily. Other things you are going to question, or not even understand. There will be a few that will require rethinking some of the core ideas of your people. I can’t claim that I know what’s best for Rome, but I can tell you ways of doing things that, in the long run, will allow you to not only survive Carthage’s attempts to destroy you but maybe fight back and even win.”

“I can’t promise you it’s going to be easy,” the Emperor said. “There are a lot of powerful interests in Rome that like things the way they are and have fought me on every change I’ve tried to implement to help Rome survive. I’m fairly certain my ideas pale in comparison to what you’re going to suggest. What I can promise you, is that I will take everything that you suggest seriously. I’m also fairly certain that the legates here will do the same.”

“Absolutely,” Aelius said.

“Yes,” Velius said.

“I know what you’ve done for us. I trust you to help us, and I hope you will trust us even when some other Romans fight against us.”

“I think I can. These two men and their subordinates that I’ve met have shown themselves to be good and honorable men, as have you. That’s a good foundation to start with.”

“Excellent. Some of this will have to wait, as there is still a lot to do in the wake of our victory. The victory games of Sulla were postponed as we prepared for the Carthaginian assault. I can’t think of a better time to celebrate them, now that we have a new victory to celebrate.”

“Imperator, is this really a good time for a victory celebration?” Ky asked.

“It’s the best time for one. You need to understand that the games of Sulla are an important religious holiday for us, where we hold competitions and games in honor of the victories the gods have granted us. Not holding these games offends the gods. Don’t worry, besides a victory parade and opening of the celebrations, nothing should take away from what you want to start. The priests will run most of the actual ceremonies. Hours ago the people of Devnum thought they were going to be slaughtered by the Carthaginians. They need this.”

“I guess you have a point. When does the celebration happen?”

“We will hold the triumph tomorrow morning for you and both legates. Afterward, I would like you to be with the legates and myself during the speeches to the people. After that, we can sit down and begin talking about what you need. For now, the legions need to recover their dead, and the injured need to see the physicians. Let’s leave them in Velius and Aelius’s capable hands and return to Devnum.”

Ky looked at Velius, who held a hand in what Ky assumed was supposed to be a soothing gesture.

“We’ll be fine, Dominous. I understand your concerns about prisoners, and I promise I will personally ensure your will is followed on the matter.”

“I know you will, Legate. You’re a good man, both of you. After all this,” Ky said, waving his arm in the direction of the battle, “I don’t want to abandon the men.”

“I have centurions to help deal with the legions, my lord. You have more important matters to tend to. We need you to focus on what only you can do and leave the rest to us mere mortals.”

Ky started to protest, but the Emperor’s hand gripped his elbow, guiding him out of the tent.

“Would you escort an old man back to town, Ky?”

“Old man? Remember, I’m the one that told you what to expect after your recovery. I’m betting you feel better right now than you have in years.”

“Yes, well … appearances must be maintained. Besides, it was all I could do to keep my daughter from riding out here with me. She will want to see you soon.”

“I’m not sure why she’d want that, but I’m happy to serve, Emperor.”

Germanicus placed Ky’s hand on his forearm and patted it, giving Ky a knowing look that he couldn’t interpret. Ky and the Emperor, along with some of his personal guards, traveled to the center of town, and the government complex that served as the forum, governmental offices, and personal residence of the Emperor and his family.

Ky walked with the Emperor to the forum, before turning to head back towards the quarters he’d been assigned, with plans to have more documents sent up. Despite how hard he’d pushed the Emperor to begin planning their next steps in preparation for the next army the Carthaginians were certain to send, Ky wasn’t one hundred percent sure what that plan actually was. While there were a few things that he could think of off the top of his head for quickly evolving their society, Ky was far from a historian or a scholar. He - and by extension the AI, upon whose databases of later era technology he’d be leaning heavily upon - needed more information to build a plan. Information like what the current technological base or societal norms were in areas from medicine, to military hardware, to basics like how their craftsman and scientists thought. Once he and the AI knew where they’d be starting, they’d be able to make a plan on how to move things forward.

Ky had walked no more than a few steps from the entrance to the self-contained area the Emperor used for both his living area and offices when the door burst back open, and Lucilla came running through it, only to slide to a halt when she saw Ky was right outside. She clasped her hands together tightly in front of her, seeming almost unsure of what she was going to do next when she glanced at the guards who were very noticeably not looking at her.

That seemed to shake her out of her confusion as she looked up at Ky and said, “I’m pleased you’re back safely.”

“I was perfectly safe, my lady. It was very unlikely that anything used by the Carthaginians could have hurt me.”

“Ohh, I didn’t know that. So, you are like Achilles, then?”

“Achilles is the name of a hero from Greek mythology and popularized by multiple ancient authors, most notably Homer and Euripides,” the AI said at Ky’s confusion. “In some versions of the Myth, Achilles’ mother rendered her son invulnerable to mortal weapons. The methods used to achieve this invulnerability varied based on the source, including the application of fire or submersion in the River Styx, a waterway claimed separated the land of the dead from the land of the living in Greek myth.”

“No, my lady. My skin can be cut just like anyone else’s. The clothing that I am wearing, however, has the ability to deflect most weapons the Carthaginians could use against me.”

“Magic armor,” she half-whispered, her hand reaching out and stroking Ky’s arm.

She seemed transfixed for a moment before pulling her hand back quickly and taking a step back from Ky, her eyes once again darting around to look at the guards standing by the doorway.

“No, that’s not what I … It’s difficult to explain. I can assure you, though, that I am unharmed. Did you need to talk to me about anything else? I was about to go to my quarters and continue reviewing the documents your father gave me, to learn more about your history. You’re welcome to join me if you’d like.”

“I couldn’t. It would be unseemly.”

“Ohh. Then, is there anything else I can do for you?”

“No … I … No. Thank you, though. Have a pleasant night.”

The last was said as she backed away from Ky. He had trouble reading the expression on her face and was concerned that he might have offended her as she turned and fled back into the imperial quarters.

Ky watched her close the door, perplexed at her behavior. With a shrug, he turned and continued towards his own quarters, completely missing the expression exchanged between the guards outside the Emperor’s residence as he passed.

One of Velius’s men found Ky the next morning still going over records. He led Ky to the outskirts of town, where Ky found lines of men from both legions in formation to march. He’d had the AI pull up information about triumphs the night before, from both the Roman records and the AI’s historical documents.

The historical documents showed that before the Emperor, triumphs were a way of awarding generals who’d led victories with a public show of success, while after the Republican era, it was usually reserved for a way to honor the Emperor himself.

The man who led the legions would travel at the head of the procession, which was a mixture of a military parade and a show of captives from the victorious campaign. If the leader had multiple legions under his command, and more than one legion was taking part in the triumph - which was usually not the case - then the legate over each legion would precede his men.

The Roman documents showed that there had been no triumphs since their expulsion from the continent. The last triumph was held for the Roman Emperor, who’d managed to keep the Romans from being expelled from Iberia, at least for a while. That triumph had been almost a century ago, and yet it seemed everyone was still familiar with the process, like some lingering cultural idea.

Ky greeted the two legates, who were still passing orders to their subordinates on what needed to take place when the event started.

“I’m not clear what I need to do for this,” Ky asked them once the pleasantries were out of the way.

“The Emperor has given you the place of honor, leading the triumph into the city.”

“Why? If this is a way to improve morale among your citizens, then it should be one of you. I’m a stranger here.”

They exchanged a look and Velius said, “I don’t think you understand how far word about you has traveled. I would imagine there isn’t a soul in Devnum who hasn’t heard of you by now.”

“I’d say it goes further than that,” Aelius added. “We received a rider from the returning legions, and they asked about you specifically, wanting to know about the rumors they were hearing. I’d wager by now even the smaller towns on the coasts have heard about you.”

Ky closed his eyes and sighed. While he did not like being so blatantly used, there was something to be said for how upfront Germanicus had been about it, not denying or lying about what he was doing. There was also no chance the Emperor would stop doing it, leaving Ky with only two choices. Accept he was going to do it and push back as best he could or take his chances somewhere else.

“It’ll be easy,” Velius said at Ky’s expression. “Just stand in the chariot, look serious and occasionally wave at the crowd. The procession will end at the steps of the Imperial complex, where you’ll step off the chariot, walk to the edge of the stairway and kneel in salute. The Princeps will then make a speech about our great victory and announce the start of the festival. ”

Velius demonstrated the salute to Ky.

“See,” Aelius added. “Easy.”

Ky shook his head as both men smiled at him in an almost gloating fashion.

“Fine, I’ll play my part in the Emperor’s play.”

“Just as we all do,” Velius said, slapping Ky on the shoulder. “Speaking of which, I think it’s time for the play to start.”

The procession was just as unpleasant as Ky had foreseen. In his time, this kind of thing wasn’t done. Everyone was born with a specific place in society and a specific role to play. No one got accolades for doing what was expected. The cheers from the crowd made him feel deeply uncomfortable, but he forced a smile, waving at the people as the chariot rode through the streets.

Arriving at the imperial complex, Ky stepped down from the chariot and walked up to the steps, kneeling as instructed. Lucilla and her brother stood behind their father and slightly to each side. Lucilla beamed at Ky, a look of pride on her face. Her brother, on the other hand, looked as if he’d eaten something rotten. Behind the three in long rows stood men Ky didn’t recognize, but who were obviously important.

Two more chariots pulled up next to the one that had deposited Ky carrying Velius and Aelius. Both men joined Ky on their knees in supplication.

“Rise and join me,” the Emperor said in a voice that carried.

Ky hadn’t noticed before, but whoever designed the plaza that led up and into the Imperial plaza had done so with fine-tuned precision. His voice echoed off the cobblestones and marble buildings with acoustics designed to carry it to a gathered crowd.

Ky stood and eyed where Aelius and Velius went, trying to figure out where he was supposed to go, following slightly behind them. The men split, one going to either side of the Emperor. Ky chose to follow Aelius, who stood in front of Lucilla, not wanting to end up in front of the Emperor’s son Caesius.

“Today is a great day,” Germanicus said to the crowd that began to push forward, joining the lined up legionnaires to hear the speech. “Our mighty legions met the Carthaginian host before our city and have returned victorious. Today the sons of Rome shed their blood on the plains of Britannia; each a benefaction to the fields of Elysium; each a sacrifice to the glory of the people of Rome.”

The Emperor’s tone dropped, and his presentation became noticeably more somber.

“I heard your concern when the offerings to Mars were delayed, as we prepared to repel the Punic invaders. I heard your worry that Mars would be displeased, and you believed that he would punish us for our impertinence. I asked you then to trust me, and I was humbled when you gave me that trust.”

“Many of you have heard the rumors, the whispered hopes that the gods have decided that now is the time; the time that our prayers and sacrifices have finally been received with favor. You’ve heard that Jupiter has drawn his blade and sent his acolyte to lead the Roman people back to our rightful place. I tell you today that those rumors are true; those hopes have been met; those prayers have been answered.”

The Emperor turned and placed his hand on Ky’s shoulder, his voice once again becoming triumphant.

“Jupiter has sent his avatar, sword in hand. This man led our legions to a glorious victory, achieving a modern-day Cannae, with the Carthaginians in the role of the defeated. I warn you, however …”

The Emperor removed his hand from Ky’s shoulder and turned dramatically to the audience, his voice taking on a warning tone. Ky was amazed at the rapt attention the thousands of gathered people stood in complete silence, hanging on the Emperors every word.

“… the threat has not ended. To the south, the Carthaginian governor is already assembling a new host to send against us. We stand on the edge of a blade, with the destruction of the Roman people to either side. Much will still be asked of all of you.”

A smile broke across the Emperor’s face as he once again placed his hand on Ky’s shoulder.

“Take heart, my people. The gods continue to show us their favor. Ky, the Sword of Jupiter, has agreed to stay and help us prepare for the evil that comes for us. His help does not come without conditions set forth by the gods. The gods have decreed that Rome must transform if we are to survive. They warn us that all Romans must be prepared for great change if we are to survive the coming storm. If we pass through the crucible the gods have set before us, then a new and more powerful Rome will emerge from the other side. The gods have asked if Rome stands ready to face the greatest challenge in our long and storied history, and in your name I have sworn that we are ready!”

“To that end, I am naming Ky as Consul - with all the trappings that office once held - to assist me in guiding our people into this new future. With his help, like the phoenix of myth, Rome shall rise again from the ashes. To celebrate our bright future, I declare today as the opening of the Victory Games of Sulla, which from this day forth will celebrate both the historic victory of that mighty warrior and the victory of the sword.”

The Emperor grabbed Ky’s hand, raising it in the air as Ky fought to suppress the surprise and anger he felt welling inside.

Chapter 11

“Princeps, I would like a word with you!” Ky said as they walked up the steps of the imperial complex, away from the wildly cheering crowds.

“I thought you might. Legates, please see to your men, and ensure they all have time to visit the games while they take place.”

“Father!” Caesius said as he and his sister followed their father up the steps. “How could you …?”

“I know you have much to say, Caesius, but the games have been announced. As my son, you have responsibilities. We can speak this evening.”

Caesius gave Ky a look of pure hatred and stomped off the steps with several of the men who had been gathered behind them following in his wake.

“Lucilla, I believe you also have duties to attend.”

“Yes, Father,” she said with a slight incline of her head.

The look she gave Ky was far different than her brother’s before she too turned and walked down the steps, Ursinus in her wake.

Successive men from the group lined up at the top of the steps behind the Emperor attempted to stop them as they passed, to ask their leader questions. Although the Emperor was successful in deflecting each of them, the constant interruptions did slow the pair enough for Ky to query the AI.

“Explain what a consul is.”

“In the Republican era, Rome was commanded by a pair of consul voted on a one year term, exercising controlling executive authority over the whole of the Republic on alternating days. These powers included commanding the legions, executing laws passed by the Senate, and conducting diplomacy with foreign powers. During the period of imperial rule, the position lost most of its power, becoming largely ceremonial with some notable exceptions during times of crisis. All documents reviewed of this timeline to date suggest no consul has been named since the last Publius Vipstanus Malchus shortly before the expulsion of Rome from the Iberian peninsula and the end of this time period’s Republican rule.”

‘With all those powers, what does the Emperor declaring me Consul mean? Your explanation makes it sound like the consuls had full executive power and yet the Emperor didn’t say the powers would be any different. How does wielding executive power work if there’s still an Emperor?’

“Current data insufficient to extrapolate any likely scenario, Commander.”

“You’re a big help,” Ky thought, receiving no answer from the AI.

Finally, the Emperor getting past the throng of audience seekers led Ky into one of the offices used by a functionary. There was no door, but the emperor’s guards flanked the arched doorway, keeping anyone else from following the pair inside.

“I want to apologize to you, Ky. I realize I made my announcement of your elevation without warning you first. I believed you would have declined the offer if I’d asked you beforehand.”

“If you predicted my response, then why would you make the announcement, anyway? While I do want to help your people, I will not be bullied or tricked into doing something against my principles. I agreed to not openly tell people I wasn’t the person in your prophecies, I did not agree to have you announce to everyone I was this Sword person! I will not lie about who I am.”

“I also predicted your refusal to listen to why you must be appointed Consul. I announced you were the Sword despite your declining the title for the same reason. This morning you told me we would have to agree to make major changes to some of the fundamental building blocks of our society if you were to stay with us. I don’t think you grasp the difficulty those changes will require. We are a people steeped in tradition, and we rarely look beyond ‘the way things have always been done.' While I recognize this is a problem, and I agree change is needed for our survival, most of my people cannot see this. They will need a powerful reason to abandon some of our oldest traditions and systems. For the types of changes you are suggesting, nothing short of a messenger from the gods would be acceptable.”

Ky frowned, his righteous indignation faltering on the Emperor’s words. While he did not like the idea of deceiving people and claiming he was something he was not, what little he had seen of Roman society did suggest the Emperor was correct. Globulus threw away his own life, and the lives of five thousand of his fellow Romans, because he could not accept Ky’s participation in the plans for the defense of Devnum.

“I can see your point, but I do not want to claim I’m something I am not. Yes, letting people believe what they want to could help get changes made now; but someday the truth will come out, as it always does. If your people are as resistant to change as you say they are, how will they feel about learning the changes they’d been forced to go through were made under false pretenses. Do you think they will realize the rightness of the changes, or will they ignore it all in anger over being deceived?”

“Which is why I didn’t have you announce you were the Sword. I am an old man. If someday the people start believing you aren’t the sword, then you will be able to lay the blame on an old man who wanted to save his people.”

“I couldn’t …”

“You can. Ky, I don’t know if you are the Sword or not. I do not know if the gods sent you or not. What I do know is, I will allow nothing to keep me from saving my people. My people may be able to bury their heads and ignore the future, for the gains of today. I, however, can recognize the impossible situation laid out for us. If preventing the annihilation of all of Rome means having you sell my legacy in exchange for legitimacy in the future, so be it. I also believe if you do end up saving our people, you will have completed the prophecies of the Sword, and my legacy will remain intact.”

“So, I can continue telling people I am not some agent of the gods?”

“Yes. Humility is one of the things our culture prides itself on, even if few of us are actually humble. They will recognize your denials for what they are, and you will endear yourself to them even more.”

“Fine. You seem to keep talking me out of the things I believe in, and getting me to agree with you.”

“Which is one of the reasons I have been able to maintain my position as Emperor.”

“So, what are my duties as Consul?”

“Your duties are whatever you decide is necessary. No one has held the position in almost a hundred years, and the last consul gave himself wide latitude in the position. He needed to get the remaining Romans in Gaul to abandon their lands and retreat to Britannia before the Carthaginians could destroy them, and gave himself whatever powers he needed. I was purposefully less than specific in my decree to allow you the same latitude.”

“I don’t understand something, Praetor. You don’t know me, and your legates did as much as I did to save your city. Why would you give me this power?”

“You forget my daughter saw you fall from the heavens. Also, in a matter of moments, you not only cured me of the poisoning, but made me feel better than I have since I was a young man. I also have heard accounts of some of your actions on the battlefield which were described as nearly miraculous. Beyond your actual deeds, I am a good judge of character, as is my daughter. We both agree we can trust you. All of this, of course, ignores the ultimate reason I decided to allow you a free hand.”

“Which is?”

“I have no choice. I have already leveraged everything in my power, and was on the cusp of losing my life and my people when you arrived. You are the only untried option left.”

Ky stood silently in front of the Emperor, trying to sort out everything he had said since they walked into this room and how he felt about the man’s words. The Emperor, for his part, silently waited for Ky to speak.

“I’m not sure what to do next,” Ky admitted.

“You knew this morning. Don’t second guess yourself.”

“I think we need to start with you hearing the overall changes I have planned. I know some of the changes I want to make, but not the best way to enact them, since I don’t know Rome well enough to know how your people will deal with the changes. After we talk, you can decide who I need to talk to, and how best to approach the people who need to be involved. Since a lot of these initial changes will involve the military, I think Aelius and Velius should sit with us as well. I would also value Lucilla’s input and anyone else you feel should be in the first meeting.”

“I have heard of all the documents you’ve been reading in your rooms. Do you have everything you need, or do you need more time? Also, if you need to make notes of the meeting, I can have a scribe sent to you.”

“All I really need is some time to put my thoughts together.”

“Fine, then tomorrow we can meet. First, however, you will have to meet with the priests. I have been putting them off, but with the games, they feel they must speak with you before they can offer any sacrifices. While I don’t need to be present for most of the games, I do need to attend the first contests tomorrow morning. Afterward, we can sit down with the legates and my most trusted advisers.”

“Thank you for hearing me out, Imperator.”

“As my newest consul, how could I not?”

Ky gave a slight bow and walked out of the office, back towards his quarters. Ky noticed odd looks by people he passed on the way, something he suspected would be happening more often thanks to the Emperor’s grand proclamation.

The celebration went on all night as the people let loose their collective joy and relief at surviving the Carthaginian onslaught. If Ky had not been able to filter out the wave of noise pouring in through his window all night, he would not have been able to get anything done. Finally, Ky, with the help of the AI, managed to assemble the beginnings of a plan.

Early the next morning, one of the Emperor’s messengers arrived and led Ky to a large, ornate temple not far from the imperial complex. A group of fifteen men in white togas with purple edging stood on the steps in front of the giant doors. A sixteenth man standing in front of the group was further distinguished by a covering draped over his head, also trimmed in purple.

“Consul,” the man in front said.

“Pontiff,” Ky replied, the AI having pulled descriptions of the notable positions in Roman society and the special garb they wore. The covering on the man’s head with its purple border signified him as the Pontiff Maximus, the head priest in Roman society who essentially ran all religion for the Romans.

“Follow us.”

The priests turned, and Ky fell in step behind the Pontiff as they walked into a large open room with a scattering of Romans on the floor bowed in prayer. At the end of the room was a huge statue of a bearded man seated on a throne, holding a staff in one hand and the figurine of a winged woman in the other. The statue reached to the ceiling of the room, which stood at well over two stories. Ky guessed the towering stone figure was at least thirty feet tall.

On either side of the statue were doors, into one of which the priests led Ky. The antechamber was a much smaller room, with an open area and an altar against the back wall. The group of them filled the room almost to capacity. Ky followed the Pontiff Maximus into the center of the room as the fifteen other men lined up along the walls, all facing in towards the pair.

When they reached the center of the room, the man indicated with a gesture for Ky to stop there before continuing to stand in front of the altar, also turning to face Ky.

“I am Lucius Vesnius Sacerdos, Pontiff Maximus of the Roman people,” the man in front of the altar said, and then gestured at the men along the walls. “The gathered pontiff’s each lead and command a Roman cult for one of the dominant gods in the heavens. Our Emperor has identified you as the Sword of Jupiter, sent to answer the ancient prophecy, and deliver the Romans into salvation. We are here to determine if you are, in fact, sent by the gods.”

Ky was not sure what he needed to say and decided to remain silent, looking back at the gathered men.

“Do you claim to be sent by the gods?” one of the men asked.

“No, I never claimed I was sent by the gods. In fact, I denied being sent by them, or anyone else, when the Emperor asked me directly. While the exact nature of my arrival here is difficult to explain, my arrival here was happenstance and not direct intention on my part.”

“The prophecy said the Sword would deny his role. While the proclamation isn’t explicit in the text, I agree with those who say he is a tool of the gods and not a direct servant,” a second man said.

“More of Trogus’ nonsense. The oracle said he was a servant of the gods. One cannot be a servant of the gods without knowing they are,” the first man replied.

“You wear the mantel of Apollo. Are you not his servant? Have you spoken with the god directly? Were you ordered by Apollo to your present position?” a third man asked.

“We are not here to argue old disputes. We must determine if this man is who the Emperor has claimed him to be,” Sacerdos said before turning back to Ky. “You said you had difficulty explaining how you arrived here. Why? Do you not know how you arrived here?”

“I do, but the words to explain my arrival are far enough outside of your experience as to not exist in Latin or Greek. I will try, but please understand without the right words, what I’m going to say will not make much sense.”

“We are learned men. I doubt there is much you can say we won’t understand,” one of the men around him said.

“Do your best,” the Pontiff Maximus said, making a gesture to quite his subordinate.

Ky struggled to find the words, noticing some of the things he wanted to say were not going to be translated by the AI into Latin since the word for the idea did not exist. Instead of throwing Hague Composite English at them, he would have to improvise.

“I come from a point far in the future, although a different future than your own. I was testing a craft in the … among the stars,” Ky said, struggling to find a way to describe outer space.

He queried the AI for other options of how to describe his true arrival in a way a primitive culture would understand, but got no response.

“My test went wrong, and I was sent here. What your soldiers saw in the marshes was me falling from the stars to the ground. I did not know of your conflict with the Carthaginians and only helped your soldiers because they were surrounded by a larger force and needed help. On my journey here I found I liked the Romans I’d met, a feeling reinforced after the Carthaginians tried to murder us in camp the next night. From there, your Emperor told me of your struggles and asked for my help.”

“You admit you come from the heavens, traveling the night sky with Mars, Jupiter, and Venus?”

“No. I was … you don’t have the words for me to explain. I was born in a … great house … far above the earth; high enough that even the tallest hills looked like dots, as my home circled the planet.”

The men started mumbling amongst themselves, and Ky sighed, knowing he was not getting anywhere.

“You came from the heavens, crashing to the earth on wings of fire, but you say you were not sent by the gods themselves. Perhaps the gods sent you to us, but without your knowing their machinations, pulling you from your home in the heavens and throwing you to Earth.”

“No, I participated in the events leading to my coming here and my coming here was random chance. What happened is just what happened, not something foreordained. The gods did not give me special abilities. To me, the things I can do are science, no different than your turning lumps of iron into swords.”

“These abilities go beyond the tools you use. We have reports from soldiers of your leaping over dozens of men and running faster than a charging horse.”

“Those are also a tool, after a fashion. In my time, we can … modify the body. My muscles have been altered to allow me to do things you would find impossible.”

“So, you could make us able to do the same things then?”

“No. I don’t have the tools or the expertise to give you the same abilities. I was a soldier, not a scientist.”

“So, you were crafted to be a warrior.”

“I guess.”

“As is true with all prophecy,” the speaker from before who defended Ky’s being the Sword said, “the meanings are layered upon one another. Jupiter did not send us a man who would be a weapon for Rome, he sent a weapon that is a man, and a man that is a weapon. How does this not convince you?”

“Consul, we must discuss what you have told us. Please wait outside while we confer.”

Ky bowed slightly and walked out, unsure of how to answer any of this and afraid he had confused their incorrect beliefs further by being unable to express himself properly.

“You could have helped me more in there,” Ky said internally to the AI.

“Acceptance of your divine origin is key to the greatest probability of successful societal evolution; which is, in turn, a key to successful survival in this timeline. Convincing religious leaders you were not sent by their deity lowers probability of successful societal evolution and survival.”

“You’re not supposed to make choices for what the best course of action is.”

“No decisions were made by this unit.”

Ky sighed, known this would get nowhere. He had already started looking at the logs the AI was compiling and had noticed some discrepancies between its actions and what it was logging. He was certain this would be another such case.

After a few minutes, the men emerged from the room.

“Consul, we have discussed your responses to our questions and decided they both match and expand our understanding of the prophecy. We agree with the Emperor. You are the Sword of Jupiter.”

“Okay, what does your decision mean?”

“Our decision means the religious orders will not oppose the Emperor’s decree. We also ask that you join the Emperor at the opening of the games this afternoon, and take part in other, similar blessings during other festivals.”

“Does the Emperor know where and when I need to be somewhere?”

“He does.”

“As long as nothing goes against my moral judgment, I’ll be happy to take part.”

The priests nodded sagely, dismissing Ky, who began his walk back towards the imperial complex. He was unsure if he should be happy about their decision to publicly agree he was this mythic figure. He could not disagree with the AI that being declared this Sword person was the most expedient way to accomplish what he needed to do, he just hated the idea of allowing everyone to believe a lie.

Ky did not feel like going back to his small quarters and waiting for another summons. He had already run through most of the documents in the Roman library, which was unsurprisingly small. Each time a capital had been lost as they were pushed further and further out of Italy, and then Gaul, and finally, out of southern Britannia, they had been forced to leave behind or destroy much of their collected works. What remained in the Roman library was a collection of writings from the last fifty years, reconstructed works from people’s memories, and a few tattered originals that somehow survived each displacement.

There were probably a few documents left that he had not dumped into the AIs memory banks, but Ky doubted more research would change the plans he and his implanted assistant had devised. On the flip side, his sanity could do with a change of scenery. Being cramped in a space station was not as bad when you could look down on a planet floating under your feet. Here, he needed more.

This led him to start walking a slow loop around the inner courtyard created by the several blocks of buildings making up the imperial complex. The open area was a large rectangle about a hundred yards across and several hundred yards deep with a small flower garden in the center and stone benches scattered along the periphery. Looking at the people as he walked, they all seemed to be from the upper echelons of Roman society. He had not been far enough out of the imperial complex to see the poorer segments of the city, but many of those Romans had made up the levy, whom he did have a chance to see.

There was a noticeable difference in their health, most likely from a wide gap in the level of nutrition each received, as well as the maintenance of their clothes. He was not an expert by any means, but he assumed these were members of the government and not just citizens. There were walls between some of the buildings, and some of the buildings were directly connected without a gap in between, but others left alleyways leading out of the imperial complex. He had not seen any guards, but Ky thought it likely this area was off-limits to the average citizen.

Hearing a rapid set of footfalls, Ky glanced over his shoulder and saw Lucilla quickly closing on him, although she slowed to a fast walk once she saw he had noticed her.

“May I walk with you, Consul?”

“Could you please call me Ky? I understand many of your people will feel the need to address me by the title your father gave me, but I wouldn’t think you would need to join them, considering who your father is.”

“Actually, while my brother has an official position in the government, I do not. I’m not sure you understand the magnitude of the position my father has given you. I believe you would now outrank my brother, at least as long as my father lives.”

“No, I do not really understand what being Consul means but I do understand what I need. People have been trying to either kill me, or make me into something they can use, since the moment I arrived here. I know some of the things I’ve done seem fantastical, but I am still a human being, and I could use a friend.”

Lucilla placed a hand on Ky’s arm, her eyes radiating sympathy.

“You seem so … different from the rest of us I hadn’t really considered how you’d feel about the deference. While my addressing you by your name wouldn’t be proper when we’re among others, when we are alone or with my father, yes, I will call you Ky.”

“I hope you know I consider you a friend, even if I haven’t been good at showing it. I know how Father is when he finds something, or someone, he can use. Even though he’s pushy and manipulative, I can tell you he genuinely likes you, too.”

“He is pushy.”

She removed her hand and looked around for a moment, as if she was afraid of being caught, letting her hands drop back to her side.

“I’m to understand you will be joining us at the games?”

“Yes, although I’m not sure what to expect.”

“The games will be exciting and loud. The crowds go crazy for the spectacle. There will be animal fights, chariot races, and gladiatorial combat. I enjoy the chariot races, or at least the less violent ones, but I could do without the animal fights or gladiators. Caesius, however, loves the fighting best and has since he was a boy.”

“For the fights, two men are armed and told to kill each other. Why would two people put their lives on the line just for entertainment?”

“They have no choice. Both men are slaves, well … usually. If a gladiator wins enough fights, he can win his freedom and enough money to carry him into a new life.”

“That’s … barbaric.”

“Really?”

Ky was surprised she seemed genuinely confused.

“You take two people who have no choice in the matter and have them try and kill each other?”

“You have to remember a lot of the slaves were either captured as an enemy of Rome, or were born to an enemy of Rome.”

“Their being your enemy does not make them less than human.”

“No, but what do you think would have happened if the Carthaginians had taken Devnum? Or to the Romans living in cities taken by the Carthaginians? The ones who aren’t killed outright are all put in bondage. Every Roman is aware of the fate waiting for them if the Carthaginians win.”

“Should their children have to suffer the same fate?”

“I haven’t thought about the subject very much. Probably not, but this is the way things have always been. You aren’t going to convince many of my fellow citizens to feel leniency towards either the Carthaginians or the Northmen.”

“I can try!”

Chapter 12

His conversation with Lucilla lasted several more slow laps before one of the Emperor’s guards found them, signaling it was time to head towards the Colosseum. After they moved off, the subject of slavery in the Empire, something he knew would not be solved with a single conversation anyway, was dropped.

Ky found he enjoyed his time with her. She told him stories about growing up in the imperial residence, and some of the trouble she and her brother had managed to get into as children.

She actually seemed wistful when talking about her brother. Had Ky not known that her brother was alive and well, he would have almost thought she was mourning him. He considered asking about her strained relationship with her brother, but she moved off onto more cheerful topics by that point in their conversation, and Ky found he did not want to see her troubled again.

They met the Emperor at the steps to the imperial complex and joined his procession of senators, religious leaders, and guards, to the multi-story round building that sat several blocks away. Ky had to admit that the looming structure was an impressive sight. He had seen the Colosseum once through his drone the night before as he tried to get a better idea of the layout of the city, but that view did not do the building justice.

The circular building towered above him as he reached the large front gate, at the moment held clear for the Emperor’s arrival. Behind the line of imperial and senatorial guards stood a sea of humanity wanting to get into the stadium. Ky could not imagine that all the people currently pressing towards the entrance could possibly fit inside, which suggested the seats were on some kind of first-come, first-serve basis.

The crowds, although not the swell of noise they generated, disappeared as Ky passed through the entranceway. As the senators who followed behind the imperial procession turned right and left, apparently moving to their own seats, Ky followed the Emperor through an open doorway flanked by guardsman into a covered area with enough benches for almost a dozen people. The front row of benches was broken by a single seat at the very front of the box, which was almost certainly for the Emperor himself. Ky’s guess was confirmed as Germanicus walked through the rows of seating and lowered himself into the padded seat.

Over his shoulder, the Emperor said, “Ky, if you and my daughter would please come sit with me.”

He indicated the bench to his right. Ky tried to let Lucilla sit next to her father, but she shook her head and sat down with enough room between herself and her father’s chair for Ky. Ky assumed she knew what she was doing and did not argue. He did notice the look her brother gave him as he circled to sit on his father’s left-hand side.

“According to commentaries reviewed, the position immediately to the Emperors right during important functions is reserved for the Emperors closest adviser or heir, depending on the situation.”

While Ky had not asked, the statement did answer the question of what he had done to upset Caesius this time. More men filed in behind them, taking seats on benches. Some he recognized, such as Ramirus and the Pontiff Maximus from earlier. Others he did not recognize, although everyone seemed to know everyone else as they talked softly among each other.

Ky frowned at the slaves that lined the walls, holding jugs of wine, from which they poured when signaled by one of the spectators in the Emperor’s box.

“I hope you find this exciting,” the Emperor said, leaning over to him.

“I’m not sure what to expect. Your daughter said that there would be races and some type of personal combat.”

“There won’t be chariot races as such. There will be a display by several pairs of chariots, but the competition is not a race, at least not how our ancestors would have considered chariot races. They had the Circus Maximus, which was many times longer and somewhat wider than our current arena. There would be a half dozen chariots moving at top speed as they flew down the track. Or at least that’s what I’ve heard. My grandfather constructed a similar, if not as grand, track in Londinium and used to tell me stories of the races they held. While I am proud of our amphitheater, the design is not very good for chariot races. By the time a competitor could get his horses up to speed, he would run out of room and have to stop.”

“They pretend to do a race?”

“After a fashion. Everything’s still very exciting, but the drivers keep their charges at a slow speed while the competitors attempt to dismount the other teams.”

“The race is more combat among slaves, then; just on chariots, instead of the ground?”

The Emperor turned to look at him, a slight flicker of his eyes indicated the other spectators around them.

“Ky, I welcome your thoughts, but this is not the appropriate time or place.”

Ky managed to hold back his retort. The Emperor and his daughter had seemed to Ky to be decent people. Besides, short of burning all bridges with the Romans, there was not anything he could do about the situation now. He could not fathom why a man who otherwise seemed decent would sit and watch this barbarity, even considering the points Lucilla had made earlier in the day, but he would give the man time to explain. While he hated the idea of what he was about to see, he held his tongue, and slightly bowed his head instead.

“As you say, Imperator.”

The emperor laid a hand on Ky’s shoulders and said in a lower tone, “I know you are going to have problems with our entertainment, but you must let things happen as they will. I promise to discuss this with you, afterward.”

Ky nodded once more and looked to the arena below. A gate on the other side of the arena opened up, and four chariots pulled out, lining up two abreast. Each Chariot held a driver and a second person armed with a weapon. Ky thought the man with the gladius was at a pretty large disadvantage to the pair using a spear, and both would be at the mercy of the woman with the short bow. The chariots themselves had long spiked protrusions from their wheels, and everyone wore some type of armor, most seemingly a patchwork.

Ky noticed Lucilla shooting him worried glances out of his peripheral vision, and gave her a weak smile.

They did not have to wait for long as the seats had been mostly filled when the Emperor’s procession had walked in, which meant all the people Ky had seen outside of the amphitheater were entirely the overflow.

A man in a small box just off the Emperor’s box stood up, adjusted his ridiculous wig, and unfurled a long scroll.

“A hundred and twenty-one years ago the great consul Cornelius Lucius Sulla met the Punic devils on the plains of Hispania at the gates of Corduba. We relive that day and celebrate the titanic clash on Hannibal the Younger’s right flank as Sulla’s cavalry pushed the Carthaginians back, turning his flank. Behold, Rome’s mounted warriors.”

The crowd erupted in cheers as two of the charioteers, the one with the spear and the one with the gladius, raised their weapons in salute. Both chariots were on the outside, closest to the crowds, with the gladius welding chariot in front and the spear-wielding chariot behind.

“Behold, the dogs of Carthage.”

The crowd booed for the ‘Carthaginian’ pair of chariots louder than they cheered for the ‘Romans.’ The passenger in the first chariot of the pair was armed with a sword as well, although this one was longer and somewhat thinner than the short, wider bladed gladius. The passenger of the rear chariot was the woman with the short bow.

Lucilla gave Ky one last sheepish look and then stood, holding up a white cloth. When she released the makeshift flag, the chariots took off. Their path was essentially one long turn, and Ky watched as the drivers tried to push the mounts as fast as they could without losing control. The first of the ‘Carthaginian’ chariots, which was on the inside of the circle, almost did lose control in spite of that. The driver was pushing his horses hard, and the chariot lifted up on one wheel, forcing the rider to fall forward, gripping the side of his chariot.

For the first lap, none of the passengers did anything except lift their weapons or nock an arrow in the case of the archer. When they passed the starting point, everything changed. The woman charioteer lifted her bow, an expression of extreme concentration on her face as the chariot bounced. She released an arrow ostensibly at the rear ‘Roman’ chariot, but a sudden bounce made her aim go high, the arrow streaking into the audience.

Ky was shocked when a citizen in the stands grabbed at his chest, clawing at the wooden shaft embedded there. Ky thought they would stop and rush someone to the man’s side, but the chariots continued, and the cheers and howls of the audience only grew louder. He was further shocked when no one came to the man’s aid, a few nearby citizens making room for him to collapse on the ground, never looking away from the action for more than a glance.

Even in a society with fairly high mortality rates, the casual attitude towards someone’s death shook Ky to the core.

“Aren’t they going to help him?” Ky said, leaning over to the Emperor.

“One of the attendants will get to him shortly, although they will have some problems getting through the crowds. When the mob has their blood up, they aren’t easily dissuaded from their entertainment.”

Ky saw that someone was pushing through the crowd, almost towards where the man had fallen. His eyes kept darting towards the racing chariots, but he did not stop until he reached the man. Ky watched as he pulled on the fallen citizen’s arms, dragging him out of the way of the other spectators. While the man was most likely already dead, Ky was still shocked that none of the people around him had tried to help.

He was contemplating this when his attention was again drawn towards the chariots. There was an arrow sticking out of the side of the rear chariot now, and the archer was trying to line up for another shot when the Roman chariot finally managed to pull ahead slightly and get close enough for the gladius wielding passenger to make a move.

Instead of attacking at either the driver or the archer, the man instead slashed across the leather halter around the horse and into the horses back. The horse stumbled and tried to veer off while the rest of the leather strands that connected the horse to the wooden frame extended from the chariot began to break loose.

The wooden frame, now freed from the horse, dropped into the dirt floor of the arena, digging in, causing a sudden cascade of effects, as the chariot flipped forward and sent the two riders sailing through the air, while the body of the chariot crashed onto the still connected horse. Dirt flew in all directions as animal, man and wood smashed to the ground. Both of the passengers and the horse that had still been connected lay still, blood seeping into the dirt, as the remaining horse made a break for the entryway, causing Roman guards who had been standing on the ramp to jump out of the way.

As the horse disappeared down the ramp, the spear welding ‘Roman’ made his move, stabbing out, catching the driver in the side. The spear was ripped from his hands as the driver fell, the wooden shaft sticking straight up in the air as the driver dropped to the floor of the chariot.

The passenger made a grab for the reigns, apparently, both to keep the chariot going and to force the horses to turn in the same direction to avoid the collapsed chariot that was quickly coming up. He did not see the second Roman chariot pull inside of the first, and probably had no idea he was in danger until the ‘Roman’s’ short sword stabbed into his back.

With no one holding the reigns and whipping them to run, the two horses stopped, with the body of the last ‘Carthaginian’ rolling out the back of the open chariot, onto the dirt.

The crowd went wild. The cheers and shouts went on for several moments, too loud for Ky to do anything other than stare at the carnage below him. Eventually, the announcer raised his hands, and the crowd silenced.

“Once again, the cowardly Carthaginians are shown the might of Rome! Their tears wet the sand as our victorious armies crush all that is before them.”

The crowd roared its applause as a small army of men had run out of the tunnels to pull the destroyed chariot out of the way as the two ‘Roman’ chariots finished their victory lap and drove down into the bowels of the amphitheater.

Once the chariots were pulled out of the way the announcer again stood, holding his hand for silence. As he began to speak, a group of men were led into the arena by guards. The men were wearing tattered clothes, and all looked grimy and malnourished. They were a stark contrast to the fit and armored slaves who had driven the chariots in the earlier competition.

“For your entertainment, a collection of thieves, murderers, and villains, each destined to the ax. By the mercy of the Roman people, these men each have a chance at life. If they can survive against some of nature’s most dangerous creatures, they will earn a reprieve, allowed to join the ranks of gladiators, and fight for their freedom.”

Ky chose to not watch most of what followed, as dogs, wolves, bears, and even a pair of tigers handed out each man’s death sentences. The crowd cheered each brutal mauling, their volume raising and lowering based on the amount of gore provided.

Instead, Ky reviewed his choice to stay with the Romans once again. When he’d told the Emperor he would stay and help them in their war of survival against the Carthaginians, he had seen what was probably the best of Romans. There had been missteps, of course. Globulus was far from the best representative of any culture, and the attempted sacking of the Carthaginian baggage train had been a dark incident, but both could be reasoned away. The spectacle before him now, could not. If he could possibly find an alternative to the horror show he had seen so far today, he would jump at the chance to change his mind.

“What other civilizations are in this timeline besides the Romans that would be a viable second option?” Ky sub-vocalized to the AI.

“No civilizations within feasible access present a compatible likelihood of survival.”

“I’m not looking for opinions,’ he said, ignoring the fact that an AI should not be having opinions in the first place. ‘I just want a list of other civilizations.”

“Using current timeline, the contemporary sources by distance from the present location are: Carthaginian, Novantae, Selgovae, Otadini, Damonii, Caelonii …”

“Stop,” Ky said, intuiting the AI’s rapid-fire listings.

The AI had, up to this point, been more helpful and even predictive of what he needed than Ky had experienced in all the years he had one implanted. The response this time was so literal as to be almost passive-aggressive.

“Sort by closest to furthest away, governments, either individually or as some type of confederation, with an organizational and structural system capable of more than a nomadic or tribal lifestyle.”

“Level of detail on requested civilizations?”

“Just the minimum needed to make my decisions.”

“The closest organized governmental body to your current position is the Carthaginian Empire. The Carthaginians are an absolute dictatorship with a single individual responsible for both the creation and execution of laws. Control of lower levels of society by their supreme leader is accomplished with a religious group devoted to the Carthaginian god of death known as the Order of Hexitas. They are known to conduct regular wide-scale executions to both control the populous and as part of their religious practices. Roman records do not detail the Carthaginian religious system in adequate detail to determine the prominence of worshipers of Hexitas in the society beyond their use as a state security service, however passing references in Roman records suggest additional deities are worshiped in some capacity. Carthaginian military power …”

“Stop. Okay, I get it. Carthaginians are a worse choice than the Romans. Who else is there?”

“The area north of Roman territory is held by a people identified by the Romans as the Picts. They are, however, not a single, cohesive government but seventeen distinct tribes known to the Romans. While most of the tribes listed in the Roman records have corresponding parallels from the past histories of the originating timeline, available data does not indicate if these parallels extend beyond naming convention. If the parallels do extend beyond the naming convention, ten of the seventeen tribes labeled as Picts by the Romans would have considered themselves as such. Known divergence does exist between the originating and current timeline as the tribes in this timeline have formed a coordinating grouping known as the Caledonian League, a distinction from a similar, although …”

“Enough. Just give me the base facts, and I’ll ask if I need further explanation.”

“Understood.”

“How organized is this league?”

“Although Roman records are extremely limited, available reports indicate the collection of tribes are loosely controlled by the leader of the strongest tribe, with no infrastructure in place to allow for institutional memory. Based on available data, probabilities are high that the current political arrangement does not last past the single leader’s lifetime.”

“Your best estimate is that long term, they will become weaker individual tribes again.”

“Diminishment of the tribes has the highest probability, with some of the tribes being absorbed by the stronger units.”

“What about the seven tribes not part of the league?”

“The seven additional tribes not part of the Caledonian League grouped along the far northern coast and are considered the weakest. If the Caledonian League remains beyond the lifespan of their leader, models suggest they will be absorbed into the League. If the League does not last beyond the life span of their leader, model accuracy becomes uncertain, although the preponderance of probabilities lead towards outside invasion conquering all surviving northern tribes.”

“What about people in Ireland?”

“Only two records of Irish tribes currently exist, both second-hand accounts from Scandinavian traders. The first record describes a small tribe living on the coast and draws the conclusion that the civilizations on the island are isolated from each other. The second account, as well as some Roman commentaries on the first, contradicts the conclusion, pointing to similarities in language and physical artifacts from the other coastal communities.”

“Are any large enough to offer enough of a support structure?”

“Insufficient data exists.”

“What about on the continent?”

“All areas south of the Rhine are currently under control of the Carthaginian Empire. North of the Rhine exists a wide range of Germanic tribes with varying loyalties. The Carthaginian Empire halted expansion north of the Rhine, opting for a policy of vassalization while it consolidated holdings in partially conquered areas.”

“Can we get to most of them?”

“Travel into the continental interior would be problematic. The coast of the continent, north of the Rhine, is controlled by a tribe known as the Frisii, which is a vassal of the Carthaginians. The other tribes along the Rhine to the east also currently operate as vassals of the Carthaginians.”

“Are there any Germanic tribes that aren’t Carthaginian vassals?”

“Along the Baltic coast, the tribes of the Vandali and the Burgundiōnes are not under Carthaginian control, although both are under pressure from both the Carthaginian controlled tribes and eastern tribes being pressured in turn out of Asia.”

“Do we have any information on what’s happening outside of Europe?”

“The entirety of North Africa is under the control of the Carthaginians. Roman sources provide few details of events in sub-Saharan Africa beyond the civilizations along the southern sections of the Nile River. While Roman sources were aware of the existence of the Nile civilizations at one time, the largest being the Kingdom of Axum, those sources were from before the Roman relocation to the British Isles. Current data does not indicate if those civilizations still exist.”

“Considering the Carthaginian’s conquering the Persians and now trying to take over Britain, it seems unlikely they would have left an independent civilization that could pose a threat alone.”

The AI had no comment on that observation.

Sighing internally, Ky sub-vocalized, ’Continue.’

“Little is known of Asia beyond the areas Carthage currently controls. While some records indicate a significant power existing to the Far East, sufficient data to determine if this civilization is a rumor, a current timeline version of a Chinese dynasty, or another group unique to this timeline is not available. Areas outside of Europe, Africa, and Asia are not currently reachable with available tech levels.”

“What you’re saying is there aren’t any better choices available to me than Rome?”

“Affirmative, Commander.”

Ky sighed again. He was not surprised at the answer, both because the AI had clearly come to the conclusion ahead of time, and because all of the AI’s information fit with the observations he already had made on his own.

Every civilization he could find information on seemed to practice some form of slavery, and reveled in blood sports for entertainment. The Carthaginians went well beyond that level of bloodthirst, making the Romans look almost modern by comparison. His only choice seemed to be with people who found this vile display entertaining.

A light touch on his arm shook Ky from his thoughts.

“The games have ended, Ky,” she said. “You were … transfixed.”

“I’m sorry, I was lost in thought.”

“We’ve put enough on our friend’s conscience for one day,” the Emperor said. “Ky, please escort me back to my residence. I am old and tired and would like a chance to talk before I get some rest.”

Ky helped the Emperor to his feet and followed a reverse path back towards the imperial complex. The crowds outside the amphitheater had not dispersed entirely but had shrunk significantly in size. The noise level was still high, with vendors hawking wares and entertainers competing with the reveling crowds.

Thankfully the environment was quieter inside the imperial palace as Ky followed the Emperor through to their personal residence. Ky had expected to have to deal with Caesius, who had spent the afternoon oscillating between rapt enjoyment of the combat below them, and casting hateful looks at Ky.

The Emperor’s son had broken away from the procession as soon as they arrived at the complex, not saying a word to his father or sister as he turned towards the courtyard.

“I imagine you did not enjoy that very much,” The Emperor said as Lucilla closed the door to their sitting area behind her, leaving the three of them alone.

“No, I didn’t. I’m honestly second-guessing my decision to stay with you.”

“Ky,” Lucilla started but stopped at a gesture from her father.

“From what you’ve said the last few times we’ve spoken, I presume they don’t have this kind of entertainment in your homeland?”

“No.”

“I would like to promise you that there won’t be any more gladiatorial fights or executions by combat.”

“But you won’t,” Ky said, finishing his sentence.

“No. The mob’s demands for the games are near limitless. Some would tell you that the games are an outlet for the mob’s limitless bloodlust, but in truth, they’ve always been used as a way to make the poor forget their lot in life. The masses of poor and destitute are less likely to turn on those above them if they have someone below themselves to look down on. They might have little to eat and live in squalor, but at least they aren’t a slave fighting for a master’s whim. Our ways of dulling the masses may be more bloody than what you’re used to, but can you tell me the haves where you come from don’t have a way of controlling the have-nots?”

“My home is very different. Everyone is provided with everything they need to do their jobs. No one goes hungry, and no one is poor. We are all equal.”

“Is there is no difference between you, a soldier, and someone who creates food or cleans up the waste?”

Ky almost denied the accusation, but the words died in his throat, half-formed. He had never considered his society from that perspective. His life and the lives of everyone else from his timeline had been structured around his role in society. He was raised and grew up with the same people, all from his batch. They all trained together to perform their one role. Yet they could see people from other batches outperforming their single task. As a pilot, he had been one of the elite, which meant there were those in batches below his whose experience must be much different. They were provided with everything they required, but that did not mean they were provided with everything they would have wanted.

Even their strict societal controls had broken down sometimes. In the Io revolt, an entire colony whose prime focus was mining rose up against the government, protesting their place in the society until the government violently put the revolt down.

“No, there are differences, although not to the degree you have here.”

“Did those in the groups below yours in status ever fight back or rebel?”

“Yes.”

“Then we are not so different. I am sure if you think about your society, you will see even your leaders had to find ways to control those they led. This may be cruder than you are used to, but the need exists, all the same.”

“I still don’t like the casual way you spend one person’s life for the entertainment of another.”

“I understand, and I don’t even disagree. I’d be open to any suggestions you might have.”

Ky knew he had been pressed into a corner again.

“Ky, please, just give us a chance. I’m sure we will surprise you,” Lucilla said, staring up at him pleadingly.

“I’m not happy with what I’ve seen today, but I think I would see the same or worse from other places. I will stay.”

Chapter 13

The next morning Ky was led to the Emperor, who had set up a meeting for Ky to lay out the groundwork of what needed to be done before the Carthaginians descended on the Romans again. The guard led him into what he was beginning to think of as the ‘governmental’ part of the main palace, which was the western half of the largest building that made up the imperial complex.

After his talk with Lucilla and her father the afternoon before, Ky had allowed her to take him on a tour of the imperial complex. Considering he would be based out of these buildings for the foreseeable future, a tour seemed like a good idea. Besides distracting himself from the less than charitable emotions he still felt towards the Romans and their choices of entertainment, the tour allowed him to spend more time with Lucilla, an activity he found strangely pleasing.

Directly facing the central city square sat the entrance to the imperial palace itself, where Ky had spent most of his time. On the very far end of the extended block that made up the complex, opposite the palace was the Roman forum, which was used by the Senate as both its main chambers and which housed offices for the most important senators. The buildings that made up the rest of the block included additional senatorial offices, a building housing the imperial treasure, a governmental records building, and a long barracks which held the Praetorian Guard.

The barracks had at first confused Ky. The building was much too large for a police force but smaller than a legion would need, and was virtually empty. The barracks themselves struck Ky more as designed for military use rather than something used by a police force, at least based on what he had seen in use by the legions. He also could not help but wonder where the hundreds of men that would fill up these barracks were during the battle itself when trained soldiers were in such short supply.

Lucilla cleared up much of that when he voiced his question aloud.

The barracks were assigned to the Praetorian Guard, a combination of an elite military unit and police force that answered directly to the emperor. The guard had a larger complex of barracks that could hold nearly an entire legion on the other side of town. The buildings here were for a detachment of the overall guard assigned to protect the Emperor and members of the Roman government. The city guards he had seen up to this point were, in fact, members of the Praetorian Guard. Apparently, the Emperor had dispatched the bulk of the Guard along with the other legions to deal with the northern tribe’s incursions.

He pushed the pleasant memories of his afternoon with Lucilla aside as he entered the room assigned for their meeting. Ky was surprised to find that the room was not that different than what he would have encountered in his own time. The room was wide open, with a long table stretching down the center. Although his people would have cushioned chairs instead of hard stools, and there would definitely not have been servants lining the walls waiting for commands, the scene felt familiar all the same.

Neither the Emperor nor his daughter had arrived yet, but Ky could see several familiar, and by now friendly, faces already seated around the table. Velius and Aelius were there along with a few others Ky recognized such as Gordianus, Velius’s second in command, and Ramirus, the Emperor’s chief spy.

“Consul. Welcome,” Velius said, standing and walking to greet Ky in what he was coming to recognize as the ‘Roman’ fashion, where each person would grip the other’s forearm near the elbow in an extended handshake.

“Velius. Aelius. How are the men?”

“Joyous of the victory but still suffering the loss of so many of their brothers,” Aelius said, greeting Ky in turn.

“We are going to have difficulty getting together enough men to replace all of our losses,” Velius said.

“That’s one of the things I want to cover today.”

Ky eyed the man who stood slightly behind Aelius. The giant stood several inches taller than Ky and must have outweighed him by a hundred pounds of pure muscle. A long line traced from his right cheek to right ear, a woolen thread still holding the two sides in place.

“This is Cossus Valerius Hirrus. My second in command,” Aelius, noticing Ky’s glances, said in introduction.

“Newly promoted,” Velius added. “Right after Aelius here was officially made Legate of the ninth.

“Congratulations,” Ky said.

“Thank you, Consul.”

The man’s voice was oddly gentle, considering his massive size.

Before their conversation could continue any further, the door leading into the meeting room swung open, admitting the Emperor and his daughter.

“Good, everyone’s here,” the Emperor said.

Ky could not help but notice the looks the men gave each other as the Emperor’s daughter took a seat at the table, sitting at her father’s left-hand side.

Once everyone was seated, the Emperor pushed himself up and stood straight-backed, looking across all the faces turned towards him

“Before I begin, I wanted to once again congratulate our legates and their subordinates on their hard-won victory. Thanks to your brave stand we can look forward to what comes next. A job well done.”

The Emperor paused, and everyone joined him in giving their congratulations to the two legates, both of whom looked discomforted by the attention.

“I believe you all know my new Consul. Ky, I don’t believe you’ve met Appius Dossenius Marcipor, Oppius Volusius Lurio, or Flavius Pedius Hortensius. Marcipor is one of the leading minds in Rome as well as being both my and later my daughter’s tutor. Lurio oversees the royal treasuries and tax collectors, and Hortensius is one of Devnum’s leading merchants, as well as owning the foundries that produce the bulk of our military supplies. Besides my daughter and Ramirus, these three men are my closest counselors.”

“Now, however, we must begin that task and decide how we are to face tomorrow. We all know the Carthaginians will not give up after a single defeat, no matter how lopsided. I spoke with Ramirus yesterday about this. I would like for him to give us his thoughts on what they will most likely do next. Ramirus?”

“Thank you, Imperator,” Ramirus said, standing. “My sources are limited, but I still stand by my estimate that this attack was made up of the bulk of available forces they had in Britannia. With winter setting in, the Carthaginians will have trouble getting reinforcements quickly. While I’m sure they will begin moving men from the continent right away, they will not be able to get enough men here, before foraging their armies becomes problematic. My best guess is we will see them by Maius at the earliest, although I don’t believe they will be much later than that either. The governor will be feeling pressure after losing an entire field army and will be impatient to prove himself to their leader, who is not generally known for accepting defeat lightly. I would bet on the Carthaginians starting their march as soon as they possibly can, even if the early start puts their men under hardship.”

“While I do not have access to the types of intelligence Ramirus has,” Velius said. “I would agree with that assessment. Our issue is that we won’t get the recalled Legions for several more days at least, and then we will only have three more since one Legion has to stay on the border with the Picts for security. The additional Legions wouldn’t even bring us to the size of the force we just faced, let alone an almost certainly larger army the Carthaginians will send next time.”

“That is one of the reasons I called this meeting,” the Emperor said. “After the battle, I spoke with Ky, and he believes he can help us. He pointed out that, while he had ideas on how to make us stronger, he is a stranger in our society and wasn’t sure of the best way to make those ideas happen. He asked if I could put together a meeting of my most trusted advisers to help him determine how to put his plans into effect. He also requested I include Aelius and Velius as well as my daughter in this meeting. Ky?”

Ky stood, giving a slight bow to the Emperor.

“As the Emperor said, I do have thoughts on ways to strengthen Rome, but I wanted to start with why I’m offering to help. My goal isn’t just to help Rome fend off the Carthaginians, although that certainly is a notable part of it. My goal is to make Rome stronger in everything, both by introducing new technologies and new ways of doing things and new ways of thinking. I know some of you have heard the proclamations about me being this Sword person, and I want to say up front what I have said to the Emperor. I am here by accident, and, as far as I can tell, I am not able to go back to my homeland. I am not offering to help you because of some mission handed down to me by the gods, but because if I am to live in your society, I want the best chance of my own survival. My motives are, mostly, purely selfish in nature.”

“You’re clearly no politician,” Velius said. “They would never admit that.”

“Which is why we like him,” Aelius said.

“I’m fairly certain that will be the last thing I’m going to say that you’ll like. I am fairly certain what you thought of when I said I had new technologies and ways of doing things was weapons and military strategies. While those are some of the things I have to offer, they are a small portion of the changes I’m going to suggest. A new weapon or a new tactic isn’t going to help you stand up against the Carthaginians and their hordes, and one battle isn’t going to force them to leave Rome alone. Rome needs long term changes if it’s going to survive. New technologies in your industries and farming will require new ways of taxing, new ways of mining, and new forms of businesses. To increase your manpower to the point that you can take the Carthaginians in a straight-up fight you’ll need new ways of thinking about science, about medicine and sickness, and a new understanding of how your people exist in your society, including your slaves. The changes I’m going to try and put in place will ripple out and change other things, which will ripple from there. You will find almost every aspect of your society, and probably those of your neighbors’ changed.”

Ky stopped and looked at each person around the table before continuing.

“I know you’re going to have a lot of questions about what I mean, and we can get into those. I know you’re going to have concerns about how these things will actually happen, and I’ll need your help in figuring out how to deal with that. The Emperor trusts all of you to have the best interests of Rome at heart, and I hope that’s true. What I am offering is to teach you how to make Rome far more powerful than it has ever been. What I require is your willing help in changing Rome, down to its very foundations, to make that change possible.”

“Before I get into specific areas, I’m sure you have questions.”

“You said you could introduce technologies to make Rome stronger than it ever was before,” the man called Marcipor said. “I have studied natural philosophy my entire life and made my career learning. Yet there is nothing I know, or even could imagine, that could do what you suggest.”

Ky reached into his pocket and pulled out his drone. Activating it, he set it to hover over the center of the table.

“I come from a place with technology advanced to the point that it would seem like magic to you,” Ky said, pausing as he ordered the drone to slowly move in front of each man, ending with a quick circle around Marcipor’s head before stopping in the center of the table. “This is a machine, no different than your onagers or water wheels. The drone was designed by human minds and used by human soldiers such as myself.”

“You can teach us to make something like that?” Marcipor asked.

“No, there are a multitude of steps between your current level of technology and the level needed to create something like my drone. I can, however, teach you how to grow ten times the crops with a fraction of the manpower. I can teach you to conquer many of the sicknesses that kill your people. I can teach you to make a weapon that can pierce any shield and kill an enemy at one and a half mille passus, and how to put one of those weapons into the hands of all of your legionaries. To teach you these things I have to make you understand how to make new forms of steel, how to mix new chemicals, how to change your manufacturing to produce vast quantities of identical goods, how to change your financial system to keep up with the changes and afford the weapons and tools you will need, and to understand what causes people to get sick.”

“I showed you my machine here,” Ky said, ordering the drone back into his hand and deactivating it, “for you to understand what I mean when I say I have knowledge you do not.”

“What do you need from us?” the Emperor asked.

“I need your advice on who we need to talk to and how to convince your people to go along with these changes. First, let me give a quick description of the first stages of changes I want to introduce. I will try and keep each area separate to make things clear, but many of these will be tied together. I apologize in advance if this gets confusing.”

“You said this was the first stage?” Lucilla asked.

“Yes. No matter how focused Rome works on the projects, not all of these new technologies can be developed right away. Partly this is because some of the things I have to show you, such as the weapons I just mentioned, require you to learn about other new technologies to be able to make them. If we had all the time we wanted, I would teach you those things and then how to make the weapons all in one set. Given the timeline Ramirus gave us, however, we don’t have that luxury. Instead, I will start with teaching you weapons and tactics that can be put into effect over the winter while working with others to get the foundations needed to go to the next stage. Should we survive the next clash with the Carthaginians, we can then build on those foundations to go to the next stage.”

“That was going to be my question,” Ramirus said. “I was concerned we wouldn’t be able to make the changes you are hinting at in the few months available to us. You seem to have considered that.”

“I have. Before I get into specific technologies, I want to address how we will go about handling these new technologies. The treasury is going to be responsible for very large outlays of cash, more than you probably even suspect when I get to explaining some of the organizational changes. Right now Rome is funded by taxes on the amount of land a person owns. This is a good method when the primary form of business, and where most of your people are employed in the growing of food. As we make changes to farming, the number of people needed to grow food and the cost of the food will go down. Less of your people will be landowners, and more will start to drift into cities to take advantage of the new ways of creating and selling goods, which will, in turn, drive down your tax revenue from land.”

“I am suggesting two changes for a start. While taxing land is all well and good, we will need a tax for those without land holdings, especially those who will be making money off creating goods rather than growing foods. The other is that each business that wants to create the new technologies I will be providing will need to pay the government a fee for the use of the designs and ideas. Paying for the right to use an idea is, in fact, one of the new ideas I want to implement. Called a patent, it is the right of a person to profit off of the thing they invent when it’s used by other people. I can go into more detail about that later with your clerks, but the patent would be a legal protection, where the holder of the patent could go to the courts if someone is using their technique without paying for the right, or at least their approval.”

“How would you prove that the person invented this?” Lurio asked.

“We will have to set up a clerk and a new office much like your tax collectors, where the inventor submits his idea and, if approved, a record of that idea is held in the patent office as an official record. Since no office will be available until your Senators create and pass a law starting that system, we will have to rely on contracts for the first several inventions, which need to be started soon if enough of the weapons and tools are to be available when we need them.”

“You said you wanted every business that could participate to have a chance to,” Hortensius asked.

“Yes. First, because we will ultimately need multiple businesses working on the new inventions. Second, because that type of competition will lead to better end results. Lastly, because the businesses involved in creating these new weapons will be making large sums of money off of them and limiting that to just the imperial favorites will breed resentment, making later changes harder.”

“I will arrange for you to sit with Lurio and some of our more … friendly Senators,” the Emperor said. “Getting something like that through the Senate requires more than simply my agreement.”

“That’s fine. As I was saying, the first thing we’ll need to start work on, are four new weapons. One is an updated version of your arcuballista called a crossbow that will fire significantly farther with a far greater penetrating power. Some shields and armor will stop the bolts, but the Carthaginians are less armored than your legionaries making them susceptible to the weapon. This will not be a replacement for your archers but an addition to the front line infantry. Coupled with a new tactic called volley fire, your front line troops should be able to do a lot of damage to the enemy before you ever get into contact.”

“The next weapon is also a bow, but this one a replacement for the bows your archers use. The good thing is the design is not a radical departure from the bows you use now, which means you shouldn’t have difficulty producing them. The harder part will be to train your archers in the new weapon, which handles very differently. The people who used to use this weapon in my society’s past spent their lifetime training. I’m honestly not sure we’ll be able to train your archers to adjust to using them in such a short amount of time. If we can, the range advantage they give us will be significant.”

“Next is a new type of ballista called a trebuchet, which would be more useful in a siege rather than the open field battle we will almost certainly end up with, but they will still offer some advantages. The main difference between the mangonels or onagers you currently use and the trebuchet is the weight it can throw. The trebuchet should have the same range as your onagers, perhaps a little further, but you won’t have to rely on twisting ropes keeping their tension, causing the results to be more predictable and lessening how often you need to change parts. Like I said, this is a minor update and the least important of the four weapons.”

“The last weapon isn’t a weapon in the strictest sense, but two changes to your saddle. These changes will be easier to show your men in practice, but together they will allow you to replace the lances you currently use with a much longer one that you can impact harder without dismounting the rider and allow the riders to stay mounted on sharper maneuvers. This is the easiest change to make, and I’m certain your cavalry commanders will see the benefits fairly quickly.”

“This sounds like a lot of new equipment,” Hortensius said when Ky came to a stop.

“It is! Hence, the need for every manufacturer we can get to be participating, which mandates the need for the new financial methods to pay for everything. Beyond having to learn new designs, some of these parts will need to be made with stronger materials than you currently use, especially in the crossbows, requiring changing to a new steel, which in turn will require a redesign to the forges you currently use. While that may seem like too much to get done and still create all the equipment we need; beyond the new forge works, I will show you a new process of manufacturing that will not only increase how quickly you can produce goods, but will also make them more uniform.”

“I am guessing you will need to sit with me and whichever of the factories we can get to join me before you take the changes to the legions?” Hortensius asked.

“The saddle changes the legions should be able to do themselves. I’m not sure about either the siege weapons or the longbow, if the legions can do that or if they need your factories.”

“Siege weapons require some smithed items, although the bodies are usually cut and assembled by the legions engineers. The bows are usually assembled by the archers themselves. You do understand that most of the equipment used by legionnaires they buy for themselves?” Hortensius said.

“I do, which is one of the things we are going to have to change. For now, I will talk to the legions about the changes to their bows and siege equipment.”

“You sounded like you have more than just weapons to offer,” the emperor prompted when the conversation started to wind down.

“Yes. The thing I’ve noticed many of your past commanders commenting on most often, is how disease is the biggest problem for your armies.”

“This is true. We lose more men to sickness than nearly any battle we’ve ever fought,” Velius said.

“I want to sit with your doctors and learned men and talk about disease. This will be difficult for many, if not most, of them to believe in right away since, unlike the weapons, much of what I have to say will not be readily observable. If I can get them to believe me, though, this will be the greatest thing I can do for Rome. You will end up losing far fewer of your people, especially your children, to disease.”

“I will talk to those I know and arrange a time for you to describe this new world to us,” Marcipor said.

“Good. I will also talk to you two,” Ky said, pointing at Velius and Aelius, “about your camps. We can make some changes that will greatly reduce the number of men that become ill.”

“We are at your service,” Aelius said.

“The next major piece is the owners of your largest farms. I will be able to show them new tools and methods of planting that will allow two men to do the work of a dozen. Some of these will require the smiths to create new implements, but that will take second priority to the parts needed for weapons.”

“The last person I need to talk to is someone who knows how to work fabric and wood. I will show them how to create an alternative to sheepskin or the reed papyrus, which will be cheaper and easier to produce in large quantities. This won’t have immediate changes, but will be needed for later stages as we make changes to the way clerks keep track of assets and information.”

“Is that everything?” the Emperor asked as Ky paused.

“No, the last part is going to be the hardest for you to accept. You need to stop using slaves.”

“Hold on …” Hortensius said.

“I’m not sure …” Ramirus began.

“The Carthaginians …” Velius said.

“Stop,” the Emperor said, interrupting the men who started to speak at once. “Let him finish.”

This was the part that Ky had thought about the most. He was not going to get anywhere arguing on moral grounds. This was a very different time, when the whole world participated in the practice, and almost no one had moral objections. He knew he would need another tactic if he was going to get Romans to turn their back on slavery.

“I know this will not happen quickly, and many of your wealthiest Romans use slaves as the bulk of their workforce. You have a manpower problem. First, you have a manpower problem in your Legions. Even if every free Roman signed up for the Legion tomorrow, you still wouldn’t have enough soldiers to see this war with the Carthaginians through to the end. There aren’t enough of you. Second, you have a manpower problem in your industry.”

“I thought you just said you’re biggest obstacle was going to be wealthy businessmen who use slaves for most of their labor. How does removing slaves help a manpower problem in our industry?” Hortensius asked.

“Do you use slaves in more complicated tasks that require years of apprenticeship to be able to perform successfully?”

“No.”

“Exactly. Except for your gladiators, you use slaves for menial labor. In the fields, as servants, in warehouses. The only really skilled group of slaves you seem to employ as a society, are your gladiators. This system seems to work only because owning a gladiator is seen as a form of prestige, rather than as a business deal. As your level of industry improves, especially in some of the later stages, your workforce will become more specialized. Slavery will become economically unfeasible. There is a solution, however.”

“Which is?” The Emperor asked.

“A path out of slavery. Allow slaves a path to become citizens after a set amount of work or level of performance. Some will choose to return to their homeland but, if treated properly, many will have assimilated into Roman culture and will choose to stay. They will build up your population base and help make Rome stronger. I have specifics that we can get into later, especially how they can be used to immediately bolster the military, which I’ll talk to your Legates about, once the missing legions return.”

“I understand I’m asking for a lot, and there is going to be a large push back. I’m not looking to change your society at once. I do think that, once your people experience the difference offered by these changes, you’ll see the benefit of them and embrace the changes that come after. The Emperor said you were his most trusted advisers and I hope you will be able to advise me on how to get our fellow citizen to accept the changes that need to happen.”

“I think Ky has given us all much to think about,” the Emperor said. “Ky, if you’ll excuse us, I would like to talk with my advisers about how to make this all happen. I’ll have the person best suited for each area you outlined take charge, and bring together everyone that needs to be involved. From there you should be able to give specific instructions and work with them to make the changes happen. I also have two things I need to discuss with you. I’ll send a guard for you once we finish here.”

“I am at your service, Princeps.”

Chapter 14

Ky was surprised when Lucilla stood and left the meeting room with him.

“You aren’t going to stay?”

“No. The only reason I was there was because you asked for my input, but they would be uncomfortable if I stayed. Honestly, if the emperor weren’t my father, they wouldn’t have tolerated a woman in that room at all, at least not at the table as their equal.”

“That doesn’t seem right.”

“That’s how the world works.”

They started walked out of the imperial palace and into the complex courtyard again. Ky had a moment to consider why he kept coming this way when he needed to think.

“Your presentation was interesting,” she said, breaking the silence.

“Everything I said was the truth. I don’t know what else I can do to prove to all of you that I wasn’t sent by your gods. I’m just a man with a past, just like everyone else.”

“Not just like everyone else.”

“Okay, maybe not like everyone else here, but I’m also not some avatar, either.”

“I still think you were sent by the gods, and you just don’t realize it yet, but it doesn’t matter. Things will happen as they will. Arguing over why things happened rather than discussing what happened is a waste of time. I’ll leave that to the old me who’d spend all day trying to pull explanations about the universe from their minds. The rest of us have too much to do, especially now.”

“I can live with that.”

“Can you tell me what your life was like? You said you came from a place with people, just like here?

“I … I’m not sure where to start.”

“How about with your parents.”

“I don’t have parents. I mean, I do have parents in that I was born to a mother and a father, but in my society, people aren’t raised by their biological parents. Everyone is tested at birth and split into groups, which we call batches, based on what role they will eventually have.”

“That’s strange. Kind of like the Spartans, although they live with their parents until they reach a certain age before being handed over to the lyceum. I still find the idea that parents don’t raise their children strange. Don’t the parents feel sad, living without their children?”

“No, because they don’t live together. Two adults are assigned to procreate together, based on what type of offspring they are most likely to have.”

“They don’t live together? They breed like … horses?”

“They do live together. I’m not explaining this well. The entire batch lives in a dormitory together. They see each other every day, along with everyone else from their batch.”

“If everyone lives in one building, how do the parents find time to … lay together and have a child.”

“Ohh, they don’t. We … we no longer procreate in that method. The doctors take what they need from each parent, and the baby is grown outside of the mother, in a controlled environment.”

“How?”

“I was not trained as a doctor, so I have no idea how to explain the process. I just know that is how babies are conceived.”

“People don’t fall in love?”

“I’m not sure. Sometimes there will be one person you prefer over others. Someone you’ll spend time with alone, talking. If that is love, then I guess yes, we do.”

“That isn’t love, Ky. Don’t you find someone you can’t live without? Someone who every organ of your body screams out for?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Yet you say you are human. This is the very essence of what humans are.”

“We are human. Biologically we aren’t that much different from you, except that our scientists make alterations as we gestate to increase abilities. Our society is just very different.”

“You grew up surrounded by the same people your entire life?”

“Yes. We took lessons together, relaxed together, trained together. Except for times when we needed to work with others, like doctors or mechanics, the only people we ever saw were those from our batch.”

“Did you have friends?”

“Of course. There were some people in my batch I preferred over others. There was Sara, who was a better pilot than me but was always encouraging and Jax, who died in a test similar to the one I took part in that sent me here.”

“Your friend died, and you did the same test, anyway?”

“Our scientists said they’d fixed the problem that killed him. Apparently, they did, since I wasn’t killed, just sent here instead.”

“You seem so calm about everyone thinking you’re dead.”

“Life is to serve. He did his duty, and I did mine.”

“Your world is so strange. I can’t imagine living the way you described. I am glad you were sent here to us.”

They finished a loop of the courtyard, having returned to the imperial palace. Ky was about to change the subject, when a guard came out, making a straight line for them. Ky had a stray thought that this was becoming something of a pattern, walking around the courtyard with Lucilla until a guard was sent to retrieve them.

The Emperor was alone in the meeting room when the guard brought them to him. He was sitting, straight-backed, his eyes closed and face turned to the ceiling. In an unguarded moment the leader of what remained of the Roman people looked tired and frail. The med-pack may have repaired the physical damage, but nothing could ease the burdens of leadership.

“Father,” Lucilla said softly as she walked towards him.

The Emperor’s seemed to shake himself as he opened his eyes, smiling at his daughter and Ky.

“You sent for us, Imperator?” Ky said.

“I did. I have more to impose upon you.”

Ky sat on the stool next to the emperor and waited, trying to keep his face impassive.

“You need to work on your political face. You aren’t as controlled as you’d like to think,” the emperor said, with a smile to let Ky know he was teasing.

“I have just come to dread those words.”

“Understandable. This time, at least, I hope my imposition will be less onerous. The first thing is more of a benefit of your new station than a task. As Consul, you are allowed twelve lictores. They will work not only as your personal guard but as assistants. While they too are status symbols, I believe you will find them helpful as aides as well. I spoke with Aelius and Velius yesterday about this. They, in turn, put out a call for volunteers. Every man of the Seventh and Ninth Legions has volunteered. I was going to have them each chose six they felt were appropriate, but I wanted to give you the chance to choose your own men.”

“I am … surprised that many volunteered. I haven’t met many of the men, at least not personally. The only two that I’d ask for I’m not sure if you could afford to give up. I’d ask for Sellic, Ursinus’s man, and Strabo, one of Aelius’s centurions. I understand if both are needed in their current position and will trust you and the two legates to make the best decision.”

“While I’m sure both are important to their commands, especially Sellic, who is the only member of Lucilla’s guard to survive the trip to Glevum. I have a suspicion that, once he hears of your request, Ursinus will find that he can make do without the man. You shouldn’t be surprised. You’ve done much to earn these men’s trust and admiration. I will tell Aelius to select four men and Velius to select five men. I am confident both think highly enough of you to select quality men for your service.”

“If I am counting correctly, that is only eleven men, not twelve. Not that I wouldn’t be fine with fewer men. I personally have no ambition to have soldiers of my own.”

“You will have twelve. The last will be selected later, as I have a few ideas on this.”

“Emperor, please take no disrespect from this, but I feel your hand manipulating events around me again.”

Germanicus let out a chuckle, shaking his head ruefully, “You’d be a fool not to. Of course, I’m manipulating events around you, it’s what I do. I hope you know I think the world of you, even after only knowing you for such a short time. I promise I will not place more of my schemes on you than I think you can handle.”

“I did say I was at your service.”

“I’m glad you remember that because I have two other requests.”

Ky was surprised at what was becoming his automatic response. The Emperor’s requests rarely seemed to bode well for Ky personally.

When Ky did not object, the Emperor continued, saying, “Beyond the opening day of the games, there are two other high points of the Games of Sulla. The first, called the Tests of Jupiter, is held at the midpoint of the games. Men perform feats of might and skill, judged by the crowd, with the winner being hailed Jupiter’s finest. I will be clear, these are not gladiatorial matches. The skills on display vary from games of boxing to feats of strength to precision archery. As the officially anointed Sword of Jupiter, I would like for you to put on a display of some kind. The choice is yours.”

“My performance doesn’t have to be like the other games I saw, does it? I will not put up with participating in that.”

“No. Like I said, this isn’t a gladiatorial match. You can choose the contest, and it can be non-violent, as long as it’s exciting.”

“I will think of something then.”

“Excellent. The second is during the final day of the games when the Plebian Contests are held. This is specifically wrestling. We again ask for you to participate in that.”

“Fine,” Ky said, not wanting to open the door to any other requests the man might have on his mind.

“Father!” Lucilla warned.

“Yes, yes. I was going to tell him.”

“Tell me what?”

Lucilla blushed and looked away from Ky as she said, “The wrestling is done in the Greek fashion. All the contestants wrestle nude.”

“Okay.”

“You’re not … shocked?” Lucilla asked, her head whipping back up to look at him.

“No. I described to you how things worked in my society, at least some. We are not body-conscious. I have no problem with the request.”

The Emperor grinned widely and said, “I was certain that was going to be a sticking point. Ky, you never cease to amaze me.”

“Don’t take my non-protest as happy acceptance. While I have no problem with the style of wrestling required, I am not happy with how frequently I am being trotted out as a trick pony, sent to amuse the crowds.”

“This should be the last, for a while at least.”

“Then, as long as this doesn’t interfere with what else I have to do, I should be fine.”

“Excellent. With that, I believe you will find Ramirus in the front hall.”

Ky stood and bowed, “Thank you, Imperator.”

Ramirus was in the front hall, talking with a shorter but significantly stockier man with thick black hair cut close to his head. They had tucked themselves in an alcove away from the other groups of Romans gathered around the front entryway as well as the path of those heading to various points inside the palace. Ky slowed as he approached. He did not want to interrupt their conversation, especially if it was sensitive in nature, as Ky assumed many of Ramirus’s conversations were.

As soon as the imperial spymaster saw him Ramirus waved Ky over.

“I trust everything with the Emperor went well,” Ramirus said.

“Yes. He explained the lictores and that I should see you about filling one of the twelve spots.”

“I did ask him to allow me to talk to you about that. I would like you to meet Kaeso Vedius Carus. At the moment, Carus is one of my best men.”

Ky and the short Roman exchanged nods of greeting. While Ky towered over most of the Romans, he had met, even among his countrymen Carus would be considered small, standing at just at five feet-four inches tall, according to the data the AI fed him as he looked at the man.

“I have some concerns over how we are going to go about getting everything you asked for today done.”

“I think everyone in the room had the same concerns. We are talking about changing huge sections of Roman society.”

“While that’s true, I didn’t mean I had concerns over the scope of the work you laid out for us. I have very specific concerns about some of my fellow citizens. Specifically, I believe there are men of high rank inside the Empire conspiring against Rome.”

“Conspiring how?”

“I am not sure. My problem is that thanks to a law passed during the Emperor’s great-grandfather’s reign, establishing the first imperial rule, I am not allowed to collect intelligence inside the Empire itself. While I do have some unofficial resources in place, I’ve been forced to keep my activities to a minimum to keep from being discovered.”

“I agree that’s a problem. I’m not sure why you’re telling me this.”

“The laws were passed as a consolation to naming the first Emperor. Because they were designed to hem in the Emperor, their language was very specific. As Consul, you are not restrained in the same way, since you are technically a separate agent of the state and not a direct functionary of the Emperor, in the same way, the senators are not directly answerable to the Emperor.”

“Which means if I employ agents to spy inside of Rome’s borders, I am not breaking the law. I also assume that as Carus is one of your best men, you mean he’s one of your spies.”

“Yes, although from this point, he will become your spy, not mine. He will answer to you and, while I will be available to offer counsel should you need it, I will not be actively working with him. I hoped that he could help you start up your own network.”

“Paying agents sounds expensive. I have no money.”

“You do, actually. The position of Consul comes with a stipend, and we also discussed that once payments start coming in for these patents of yours, a piece of each payment will go back to you.”

“The whole point of those payments is to make sure the empire has enough capital to pay for the legions and equipment it is going to need.”

“Most of the money will go towards that, but knowing what machinations are happening here is equally important. The Emperor agrees this would be a good use for that money. Your paying for this directly, without imperial funds, will also help further support the idea that you are operating independently.”

“I don’t know how to set up a spy network.”

“Carus does. Since he is one of your lictores, people will not find it unusual for you two to be in regular contact. He will be able to do most of the day to day managing of your agents, under your direction, of course.”

“Won’t people figure out he isn’t a regular lictor?”

“No, because he will be that as well. Carus was a member of the legion and is well noted for his martial skill. He will serve as a member of your guard in addition to his duties as your spymaster.”

“How do you feel about this, Carus?”

“I’ve been training under Ramirus for a long time. There isn’t a lot of chances for advancement in our line of work, at least not while the person running the network still lives. This gives me a chance to take what I’ve learned and build on it. Also, Ramirus is right. Romans love scheming, and there is a lot of that happening at the moment.”

“Where would you begin?”

“By spending your money. We need to start hiring informants as close to the seats of power as possible and see what shakes loose. If we catch a whiff of something happening we should know about, we can then bring in more informants, closer to our target.”

“I assume you know how to do all of this?”

“I do.”

“Okay, I’m fine with this, but if Carus is going to work for me than I want to make sure he doesn’t also still work for you. The Emperor trusts you Ramirus, which means I do too, but I don’t want people with divided loyalties.”

“Understandable. Carus is ambitious. While I will probably still confer with him from time to time - with your permission, of course - I’m certain he wouldn’t want me messing with his work any more than I’d want him messing with mine.”

“Good. I will apparently be getting my first guardsman tomorrow. Do you plan on telling them your real purpose?”

“Not unless I have to tell them. I will take my turn just like all of your other lictores, just with more visits than the rest. I will, of course, bow to your wishes, but usually, the fewer people that know of these types of activities, the better.”

“Do you know who will lead your lictores?”

“I asked the Emperor to assign Canus Laberius Sellic to me, and I was going to put him in command. He traveled with us when I first arrived.”

“I know Sellic. He’s a good man. I will speak with him then.”

“Fine. Keep me informed of what you’re doing to set up the network.”

“As you say, Consul.”

Both men turned and left the imperial complex.

Ky watched them leave and walked back towards his quarters when a thought struck him.

“The businesses we’re going to need to change their manufacturing systems will need to grow, both to handle the changes and the increase of orders coming from the government, if the new taxes and patent fees go into effect,’ Ky sub-vocalized to the AI, ‘do they have a way to borrow the money they’re going to need to grow? Do the banks, or whatever system they use, have the capital to loan out that kind of money to multiple businesses all at once?”

“The Romans do not maintain an organized banking system. They do maintain privately owned banks that take deposits and lend money, although without the sophistication of modern banking. While banks in this era use fiat money to allow for greater cash flow, there are no protections from shortfalls and they suffer from wide fluctuations in value. There have been pushes by some Romans to debase the currency to increase available capital, the Flavian emperors, including the current emperor, have resisted these pressures.”

“Meaning they do have a way to get money to build their industries.”

“Affirmative. Insufficient data available to determine if current lenders have the available capital to lend in the necessary quantities.”

“I guess that is one of the things I need to talk about with them. Another thought struck me, do they do much trade with outside governments? Is the entire financial system of Rome based only on an internal economy, or is there a wider market?”

“Rome is effectively isolated. While they occasionally trade with Scandinavian traders, those transactions are limited in scale and have been decreasing over the last ten years due to military pressure from invading Germanic and Eurasian tribes moving into their lands. The Carthaginians and their coastal German vassals prohibit citizens from trading with the Romans while Irish and northern tribes have maintained a near-continuous state of war.”

“Does Rome have a strong enough economy to reach the later parts of our plan?”

“Negative, Commander.”

“To make this work, not only do we have to redo their system of taxation and kick start an industrial revolution nineteen hundred years early, we have to find a way to get their trade restarted, too.”

The AI had no response to the statement.

♦♦♦

Roman Forum, Devnum

While the sun set on the Roman city, bathing the stone and wood buildings in a golden light, the people of Devnum continued the Sullan celebrations with daytime spectators of the games becoming nighttime revelers at the various feats and parties thrown by both the city government and businesses alike.

Compared to the noise from the streets outside, the floor of the Roman forum was like a tomb. A handful of men stood in the center of the chamber meant for more than a hundred and conferred in hushed tones.

“How did he convince the Pontiff,” Marcus Umbrenius Silo said, running a hand across his nearly totally bald skull.

“The Pontiff has always been in the Emperor’s pocket,” the cloaked man replied. “I warned you not to put your hopes into the cults rejecting him.”

“Now he’s named this man Consul. I hear he was in meetings all day with the Emperor and his closest allies.”

“We need to put a stop to this before he does more to gain the people’s favor. They’re already hailing him as the savior of Rome. The Emperor even gave the man a triumph,” Publius Lusius Mutilus said.

“I’ve heard reports from some of the Fifth Legion’s survivors. Globulus had a solid battle plan until the ‘Consul’ got involved and held the other two legions back, forcing the legate to take on the Carthaginians alone,” Paulus Palpellius Mercurialis said.

“He got lucky. Globulus must have weakened the Carthaginians enough for him to defeat them. Even in victory, the battle leaves us very weak. Both remaining legions lost over a third of their numbers, more than that in the Seventh Legion,” Mutilus replied.

“He will not be lucky again. The mob is fickle. They just need something to convince them that this man is just that, and not some messenger of the gods,” Spurius Secundinius Vala said.

“I just learned the Emperor has scheduled the ‘Consul’ to participate in the games. He is supposed to compete in two days during the personal competitions and wrestle during the final day of the games. I will have men in both events who will make sure he is no longer a problem. If the first man should fail, the second won’t. The Sword of Jupiter will not be a problem for us much longer.”

Chapter 15

Ky walked the courtyard the next morning by himself. He was confused that, during his walk, the one thought that kept returning to him was that he wished Lucilla was walking with him. They had not arranged to meet, and, as the Emperor’s daughter, she must have had things she needed to take care of. Since his disquiet over her absence was not because he expected her, the feeling was somewhat strange to him.

Considering the line of thinking, he assumed it must be because she had been helpful already as a partner he could bounce his thoughts off, much like Sara had been in his life before. Although the Emperor had agreed to his plan in principle, nothing had actually been put into place yet, leaving a lot for Ky to worry about.

Ky stopped his morning walk when he noticed Sellic, Strabo, and Carus, along with nine other men, walking towards him.

“Consul,” Sellic said, the other men falling in behind Sellic.

“I assume these are all of my new lictores?”

“Yes, Consul. We were informed by the legates that you asked for Carus and Strabo specifically. The rest were chosen by the legates personally.”

Ky noticed both Strabo and Carus puff up at the mention that they were specially selected. In Carus’s case, Ky knew this to be a fiction, meaning the man continued his role as a simple guard even in the little things like showing pride over place of selection. The reaction spoke wonders to the man’s ability to blend in and made Ky consider that, if Ramirus had not been truthful and Carus continued to work prominently for the spymaster, Ky might never know.

“Excellent. I thank you all for volunteering for my service. I will admit to you that I am not accustomed to having direct subordinates outside of a military hierarchy. Where do we go from here?”

“I assumed we would follow the same procedures Ursinus set up for protecting the lady Lucilla.”

“That’s probably fine, but what were they?”

“Keep in mind she has fewer guards - except for special occasions, such as her trip to the Oracle - than you are mandated by tradition. The rule was that two guards would be on duty at all times in eight-hour shifts. That will, of course, have to change in your situation. My brief from the legates made it clear we were to act as both personal guards and staff, should you find the need.”

“The Emperor said the same to me, and I’m almost certain I will find the need.”

“Then my suggestion is for us to also work in eight-hour shifts, in groups of four. We will split the most senior of us, myself, Carus, and Strabo, as the lead lictor on their shift. I ask that you keep at a very minimum, one man with you at all times. I would prefer two, if at all possible. This allows the remaining two to spell men for breaks, meals, and to be available for tasks as needed. I also ask that you allow us to maintain your daily schedule to ensure we are aware of anything that might require changes to our security arrangements.”

“That works fine for me. When will you begin your duties? I assume you will no longer camp with the legion, but I’m not sure what arrangements I need to make for you since you are now in my service.”

“You don’t need to make any arrangements, Consul. I have already spoken with the palace steward and secured quarters in the praetorian barracks for us. I would like for Strabo and the three men on his watch to start their duties immediately.”

“That’ll be fine. As it happens, I do need something immediately,” Ky said, turning to Strabo. “I need to visit the legions this morning. Could you arrange for horses and send a messenger to the legates to inform them?”

“Certainly, Consul.” the centurion said. “Durus, have the stable prepare horses, then ride ahead, inform the legates of the Consul’s arrival.”

The man slapped his fist to his chest in salute and marched off to carry out his task. Ky was somewhat uncomfortable with having men assigned directly to his service, but he could appreciate how much easier it would be to tell someone who already knew how Romans operated, to carry out specific tasks. So far, Ky had just traveled with the Emperor or soldiers and was not even sure where he would go to get a horse for the short ride to the legionary camps.

“If you’ll excuse the rest of us, Consul?”

“Yes, thank you, Sellic. I appreciate you agreeing to work with me and taking care of arranging all of this.”

Sellic answered with a salute of his own before the majority of his lictores walked off towards the Praetorian barracks. Ky headed back into the Imperial complex to retrieve some sketches he had drawn up the night before. Tracing over blueprints overlaid by the AI, Ky had put together a layout of the legion camps with the changes he wanted to be made. The sketch was not much, but considering the importance of what needed fixing, Ky wanted to make sure they got his instructions correct.

They soon arrived at the stables, which turned out to be a small outcropping of buildings on the south side of the imperial complex, close to the praetorian barracks. Durus must have hustled, as he had already given the stable master instructions and left to notify the legates.

The ride itself was short, only a mile and a half outside of the city gates. They arrived at the Seventh Legion to find not only Velius but also Aelius and the dispatched Durus waiting at the front of the camp.

“Legates,” Ky said, greeting each man. “I want to thank you for finding the men to serve as my guard. I hope I didn’t deprive you of too many valuable soldiers.”

“Their subordinates are excited about the opportunity to rise to their new challenges,” Velius said.

“Excellent. Let’s get down to business. When you gave me the tour the other day, I noticed several things that bothered me. Follow me please.”

Ky led the legates, his guards, and not an insignificant number of legionnaires, who took the opportunity to gawk at their leaders. Ky stopped just short of the stream that made up the far edge of the camp.

“This is my problem.”

“I’m not sure I follow,” Aelius said.

“This,” Ky said, pointing at the stream, “is your source of drinking water. I see the stream also used for bathing, washing clothing, and supplies.”

Ky pointed to several soldiers doing exactly what he described. He then turned forty-five degrees and pointed at a small, hastily constructed wooden structure just fifteen yards away.

“That is your latrine. This is my problem.”

Both legates looked at Ky, confused.

“You said the largest source of casualties and loss of manpower was from disease. This is one of the biggest causes of disease you have. Many of the things affecting your men, most notably the flux. The main cause of this and several other diseases is drinking water contaminated by human waste. Your latrines are close enough to the river that runoff from the waste pits is getting into the water. There only needs to be a tiny amount of waste to make a man sick. Even amounts so diluted in water that you can’t see them anymore could be enough. Then there’s the cleaning and bathing in the water the men are drinking. All of these factors together are a recipe for sickness.”

“I’ve always understood the men were being made sick by bad blood and air.”

“I know, and I plan on talking to your doctors as well, or at least as many as will listen to me. Compared to many of your neighbors, your knowledge of the body and diseases is remarkable. Much of that knowledge is also wrong.”

“What should we do to fix the problem?”

“For one, your latrines should be located on the opposite side of the camp from your source of water, be that a stream or a well. The water is still most likely contaminated even without your latrines making it worse. You need to make sure the water is cleaned before you let your men drink it. The easiest way to do that is by letting the water boil for several minutes. Boiling will kill most things in the water that can make you sick. There are other precautions to take, but I will take those up with your doctors. For now, keeping your latrines as far from your drinking water and boiling the water before drinking it, are the biggest changes you can make to keep your soldiers from getting sick as often.”

“We will, of course, make the changes you request.”

“Also, make sure your men dig a deep enough pit for the latrines. The goal is to keep human waste away from your men.”

“Then we should also keep an eye on men shitting as they please when they don’t want to go to the latrine,” Carus said.

Both legates gave the centurion a look but then gave a nod in agreement.

“That is also true.”

“Good. Next, I’d like to talk to your medics.”

The group moved away from the latrines and stream, towards the largest tent in the camp. Opening the flap, the smell that hit Ky’s nose was overwhelming, forcing the AI to lower his sensitivity to compensate. The smell was distinctive, that of festering wounds and rotting flesh.

The soldiers made faces, but otherwise did not have a comment about the smell. This was, clearly, a fact of life for wounded soldiers.

Ky stopped and talked to a man here or there as he went through the tent, offering words of encouragement. He finally stopped at a sleeping man who, even while unconscious, was sweating profusely. The man had a nasty gash just above the knee, the skin around the wound already turning black.

Several medics followed the procession, gathering close as Ky began to talk.

“This is the second problem. I will say you have some things right here. You sewed up the wounds then applied vinegar, turmeric, and honey. For now, those are good options for fighting infection, but you are missing some key steps. When you first treat someone with an open wound, there are steps you need to take. The first thing you need to do is wash the area using boiled water and a cloth that you’ve boiled for fifteen minutes. As with the water for drinking, it’s important that this water has been boiled for a goodly amount of time. Using rags from one man to another, or using uncleaned water, will cause the wound to be infected.

One of the medics opened his mouth to say something and stopped as Velius held up a finger to silence him.

“Let him speak,” Ky said, overruling the legate.

“I don’t understand. Why is boiling everything important? While there is clear evidence that water must be drunk from free-flowing sources instead of standing water, what does that have to do with cleaning the outside? How does boiling a rag affect the patient’s humors?”

“Those are all good questions, and in a few days, I will be calling together as many surgeons and doctors as I can find to give a lecture on the causes of disease. I will make sure any medics from the legions are included. For now, I will say you need to takes these steps because, while you have made some correct observation on the results, you are, in many cases, wrong about the causes. Disease is not caused by an imbalance of humors, by bad air, or by bad blood. Sickness is caused by tiny living things, so small you can’t see them. You can pass these from one patient to another, making the illness move. Soaps, boiling, and fire can remove many of these, keeping the patient from being infected.”

“In this man’s case, the blackening skin is actually dead or dying, including the muscle underneath, as the infection eats away at it. If the infection reaches his blood, it will travel to his organs, shutting them down and killing him.”

“You’re saying if we do these things, we can cure him?”

“I don’t know. By this point, the infection may be too far along for the remedies we have available to help. I have plans to introduce more sophisticated medicines that will be able to help even after infection has set in, but that will take time. For now, the best course is to prevent infection from setting in at all.”

“I’ve heard the men tell about the things you can do, and the priests say the gods have sent you with knowledge to raise our people back up. I find the steps you suggest strange and have difficulty seeing how it can help, but if you say they can, then I will believe you. I do look forward to hearing you expand upon the topics, although I warn you many of the doctors in the city will not be as accepting.”

“I understand I have an uphill battle. Now, as I was saying, you need to wash the area with a cleaned rag that you have boiled using clean water. To be clear, when I say clean water, I mean water you have recently boiled. Before you go to each patient, any medic needs to wash their hands using very hot water and soap. Not hot enough that you injure yourself, but as hot as you can stand. This shouldn’t be a pot everyone sticks their hands into. Instead, have an aid slowly pour the hot water over your hands as you scrub with soap and then rinse with the same hot water that was previously boiled. Any instruments you use, including needles, should also be boiled, and thread for binding wounds should be treated with vinegar if it isn’t strong enough to stand up to boiling. Keeping everything that touches a patient clean is key to keeping them from becoming infected.”

“Once the wound is cleaned thoroughly and sewn up, cover it with a cleaned bandage. The bandage should be changed with newly cleaned bandages several times a day as the previous one becomes soiled with discharge. Re-apply vinegar as you change bandages as well. The wound should heal on its own as long as organs are not injured, and the soldier should recover if there isn’t an infection.”

“There are many more steps you can take, but for soldiers with this type of injury, this basic aid can help save many of them. For the men who come down with sickness, especially the flux, it is important that you give them as much cleaned water, maybe with some honey mixed in, as possible. The danger here is they do not keep enough fluid inside, causing the organs to fail. Non-cleaned water makes the problem worse as does wine, even watered wine.”

Ky walked among the soldiers, pointing out small things that could be done by the medics to improve their chances of survival. More complex topics, such as giving live blood transfusions, surgical techniques, and vaccinations, would have to wait. Some he would be able to do soon, while the more advanced methods would require at least several years as he increased the technological base of the Romans.

For now, what he instructed the medics in would save many soldiers’ lives. Soldiers they would dearly need in the spring. Before he left, he instructed the medics to talk to the men from the other legions and spread the suggestions. Both legates made it clear that this was not a suggestion and they expected the healers to take Ky’s advice seriously.

Ky knew this was the easy first step. He had immense goodwill from the legions, to the point where even the medics were willing to accept his word ‘as is.' He had already seen how some Romans dug their heels in and resisted new ideas. He had no doubt that the doctors of this age would be just as bad, if not worse.

Ky bid farewell to the legates and hoped with these changes as a start, the legion should become healthier. He sent Durus ahead as he finished with the legates to arrange the next meeting he had in front of him.

They arrived back at the imperial stables, leaving one of the other men on Strabo’s detail named Hesychius to take care of the horses while he and his remaining two lictores went in search of Durus and the men he had been sent to fetch.

Ky found him, unsurprisingly, in the buildings used for the imperial treasure. Lurio was in a large room Strabo called the Tabularium. The closest translation the AI could come up with was a records room or archive, which seemed an apt description for the room in which they were gathered. The walls were lined with shelves that stretched to the ceiling, each stacked with scrolls and parchment, with rows of shelves stretching across half the open floor space as well. They were stacked multiple rows deep, and multiple rows high on each shelf pushed into such a degree that they did not have a specific shape anymore, making it impossible to determine how many records were actually being stored.

“Volusius Lurio,” Ky said as the AI supplied his name and appropriate form of address. “I appreciate your meeting with me.”

“How could I refuse the Emperor’s new Consul. I am also intrigued by some of the things you mentioned yesterday.”

“We should sit then, because what I said yesterday was only part of what I have in mind. Strabo, could you find me something to write with?”

Lurio extended his arm, directing Ky towards two low perpendicular couches. Of the Roman seating, Ky by far preferred the stools used by the military over the low couches designed for lounging that the upper classes of Rome seemed to prefer.

Ky and Lurio lowered themselves into the couches while Ky’s lictores placed themselves against the wall nearby, out of the way, but near enough if they were needed.

“As I said in the meeting, the way Rome currently handles taxes is going to have to change. You won’t notice the changes that are going to happen in your industry right away, but with the changes, we will be putting in place, the bulk of Rome’s wealth will shift from owning land used for farming to the production of finished goods. Right now what Rome produces, while of good quality, is on par with many of its neighbors. In a year you will find the cost of production will fall drastically while, at the same time, Rome will begin to produce materials that others cannot. Some of those we will hold to ourselves, but others we will sell. In five years the money you make off of trade will far exceed that produced by farms. Your taxes have to change to take that into account.”

“We currently have taxes on imports, on produced goods, and on items sold. What would need to be done differently?”

“The level will have to change. Right now, your most important tax is the property assessment, and your least important tax is that on produced goods and items sold. Those will have to change positions, as they will grow while the value of land will fall as food becomes cheaper and easier to produce.”

“We can do that, although I suggest we change the rates gradually as the economy changes shape.”

Strabo returned at that moment, setting several pieces of parchment, a small clay jar of ink and a stylus on the small table next to them.

“That’s fine. The next has to do with how you track the businesses, and people, in Rome. Right now, you do an excellent job of maintaining a census, but you do little tracking of what money businesses actually make. That is self-reported. If we change things, that will have to change as well. I know tracking all of this is a daunting task, but I have one more thing to show you that should help.

Ky pulled the parchment in front of himself, picking up the stylus and dipping it in the jar of ink.

“This,” Ky said, writing out a number in Roman numerals, “is how you write the number twelve thousand, two-hundred and fifty-one.”

He paused and wrote out the same number using Arabic numerals. Across the top of the page, he wrote out the numbers one through ten.

“This is how I would write the same number. These characters stand-in for each of the numbers starting with one and counting up to ten. When a number is written out like this, each column is a ten’s place, with the furthest right number being single digits and each column to the left going up by a factor of ten. So the last two here, the character for five and the character for one, by looking at them, I know that the second column is the tens place, so this is fifty and the number to its right is one, making it fifty-one.”

Lurio stared at the numbers for several minutes, digesting what Ky had said. His eyes went from column to column as he worked out the method.

“The system is interesting, and I can see how this would be easier to write that column, but I fail to see the benefit of changing to a new system. I will admit this is fairly intuitive just looking at it, and wouldn’t be terribly hard to grasp, but it would still take time to retrain all of my plebicani.”

“In the long run, this new form of notation will allow your men to not only record information faster but also work out figures faster. I will show you ways this system can be used to do arithmetic much more quickly. If we start conducting audits, and no longer allow factories to self-report, the amount of data you are going to have to keep track of will increase, doubly so once the industrial base starts increasing. There will be some growing pains, yes, but I promise you once your entrepreneurs see this system, they will grasp the benefits as well. Of everything I show you, this will be the one new invention that will spread the fastest.”

“Show me how arithmetic works using these symbols.”

Ky spent the next several hours showing the ways Arabic numerals could be used, and answering questions. The more he demonstrated the versatility and ease of use of the characters, especially by having Lurio perform the same functions first in Roman numerals and then using Arabic numerals, the more of a believer the Roman became.

By the time the sun had set he had made a convert to the new system. By his reaction, Ky was certain his prediction would not be far off.

♦♦♦

Governor’s Palace, Londinium

Maharbaal paced across the floor of his audience chamber, his annoyance growing. Three days had passed since Zaracas was expected to assault the Roman capital. He should have heard word by now. From other generals he would expect this type of delay, as sacks often became confusing messes, and this was the Roman capital. When they had taken Londinium, the sack had lasted for five full days, as the men took their reward for a hard campaign.

Admittedly, the wealth in Devnum would not be as great as the one taken in Londinium twenty-eight years ago, and nothing compared to the month of pillage when Rome itself fell a hundred and fifty years ago. They would not have had as much time to build up the wealth of either of those cities, but the Romans were clever and fond of amassing valuables.

Still, he expected more of Zaracas. In past campaigns, the man had been meticulous and duty-bound. Sure, as a tactician he tended to be to target fixated, seeing every problem as a nail waiting to be driven home. His target fixation should not have been a problem here, however. There was not much needed to defeat the small gathering of troops left to defend the Roman capital.

He was about to begin another round of pacing when the sound of hob-nailed boots echoing off the corridor outside made him stop. Turning around, Maharbaal watched as a filthy cavalry officer, a bandage on his neck, limped into the large open chamber.

“My lord!” he said, going down on one knee, head bowed in supplication.

“You are from Zaracas’s army?”

“Yes, My lord! I was a section commander in Batrun’s detachment.”

“Why are you so late with the report? Never mind; has Zaracas prepared to march on the last two Roman towns. Has the Roman counter-attack from their dispatched legions been repulsed yet?”

“My lord,” the man started to say and faltered. “We were defeated.”

Several seconds passed before the information fully hit home. Maharbaal stared at the man, dumbfounded. His normal response was pushed aside by the sheer shock of the news.

“Defeated? How?”

“I … I don’t’ know, my lord. Two legions formed in the fields ahead of us, too late to prevent our forces from deploying out of the woodland. One of the legions came straight for us and was soundly defeated. Strangely, the other legion held its position, even thinning out its line to cover the ground previously held by both legions. The strategos moved the vanguard of the army forward, leaving the cavalry behind as a reserve, in case of more strange tactics. Suddenly, we were assaulted from the forest. Thousands of men, a mixture of infantry and cavalry, were on top of us before we could react. They were led forward by a demon. No weapons could touch him, and he ran as fast as a horse.”

“A demon?!” Maharbaal roared.

His anger returned, overwhelming him. Striding forward, the governor struck out, smashing the back of a fist against the soldier’s head, sending him sprawling onto the ground.

“More tales. More lies to cover up cowardice and incompetence. You say a demon attacked you, and yet you live. Our army was crushed by a puny force of refugees, and you come home to tell the tale. Coward! Weakling!”

Maharbaal dropped on top of the man, knees smashing into his chest, hands wrapping around his throat. He continued hurling insulted as he choked the life from the man. Eventually, Maharbaal realized he was throttling a corpse and released his grip, pushing himself up.

“You,” he called to one of the Acolytes of Hexitas standing near the door. “Round up your men, scour the countryside for any more of these … things. Anyone who returned from the battle alive I want questioned. I want to know how the Romans defeated our army. Consider any survivors of the battle as deserters and deal with them accordingly.”

The acolytes spun and left the room wordlessly.

“And get someone to come clean up this mess,” Maharbaal called after them.

The governor returned to his chair, throwing himself into its cushions. He was on the edge of a blade. Any report to the Great One must be made with care. He would, of course, blame the failure on Zaracas, but that did not guarantee that he would escape from this failure in one piece. He needed the right angle to keep his head.

More importantly, he needed more men.

Chapter 16

Ky came out of his quarters the next morning to find two of the men from Carus’s detail flanking his door. He still found the concept of men guarding him around the clock to be strange. Leaders in his time had guards, of course, but everything was more hands-off. With the kinetic shielding enhanced clothing, satellite tracking, camera networks, and AIs monitoring signals traffic, facial recognition, and pattern recognition, assassinations tended to involve large scale suicide attacks. The last one that he had ever heard of, one of the early Emperors, had been killed by Lunar separatists using a small nuclear device.

They had wiped out a third of a major city to get one man.

“With the Emperor’s compliments, Consul. The procession for the tests will get underway in an hour. He would like you to accompany him into the Colosseum.”

“I’m ready now. Let’s go.”

The entire procession was similar to the first procession several days before, except for smaller crowds. Apparently, the first day was a public holiday, which explained the crowds. There were still a lot of people in the streets watching the Emperor and his party make the walk to the Colosseum, but it was not the overwhelming mass of people.

The other major difference was that there were fewer government officials with the Emperor, making his box feel smaller once they arrived and sat down. The emperor once again had Ky sit on his right-hand side, indicating that Ky should lean in to talk with him once they were seated.

“I think you will find today much more to your liking than the gladiatorial combat. The first exhibition will be feats of strength. Contestants will challenge each other to feats of strength, with anyone unable to complete the next challenge eliminated until there is one winner left. Winning the feats of strength is considered an accomplishment, with the winner receiving a bounty and often paid to attend parties and other events. After the feats of strength, there will be a series of boxing matches and then a series of wrestling matches. While those are contested fiercely, they do not hold the same place of pride as the matches that will take place on the final day of the celebrations. Finally, you will go on to perform.”

“I am still unclear; what type of performance are you expecting of me?”

“That is a good question. Normally the tests end with the wrestling contest. Your participation is unique. While this is intended to boost the spirits of the Roman people, your performance has an additional means. We need to reinforce your unique abilities, give the people a reason to have faith in you. The more you reinforce your exceptional abilities with the people, the more they will accept changes to their way of life.”

“Does this performance need to be just me, or should I do something that involves other people?”

“Whichever you think is most appropriate, as long as it’s impressive.”

Ky nodded and leaned back, thinking the situation over. He knew for sure he would not do anything that would bring harm to anyone else. The Emperor continued to make the point that he needed to keep the people on his side. He, so far at least, had not shown the same concern over what the upper classes of Roman society thought. They were the ones who would be most affected by Ky’s changes. Many of them had their wealth wrapped up in the landed estates worked by slaves. The very sections of the Roman economy that would feel the most seismic changes from what Ky was doing.

Ky assumed the Emperor knew what he was doing. Considering the amount the average Roman citizens outnumbered the elite, it made sense that the Emperor would be focused on them.

The feats of strength went about as the Emperor had described. Strong men performed in singles, in pairs, even one set of four. They lifted, pulled, pushed, and threw all manner of implements, usually items made of stone or steel. While some were performing true deeds of strength, others were faking it. One man who seemed to be lifting a giant stone boulder had hollowed it out. His performance was convincing and the patchwork to cover the entry point where it was hollowed out from was well concealed. Without the AI, Ky would have probably never noticed the discrepancy.

The boxing match was more brutal that Ky had assumed it would be. Boxing was not something from his time, but records the AI had on the sport had included images of men with padded gloves. The boxers here had only linen wrapping their fists. The actual fights were violent and bloody, with many broken noses and teeth. While Ky was not a fan but, since all the contestants managed to walk away, it was a step up from the previous combat he had seen in this arena.

Ky watched the wrestling with interest since it was something he would be expected to participate in. The AI had dredged up some information on wrestling and how the art was actually performed, but ancient sources were unclear on specifics. The sport was no longer practiced in Ky’s time. While the AI did find references in its databases to versions of wrestling stretching back for several thousand years after the Roman and Greek sources, any actual information was part of the many areas not covered in the AI’s hastily assembled databases.

He had instructed the AI to analyze all moves by the performers, cross-reference those moves against modern forms of physical combat in the AI’s system, and start to build a motion assist profile. Because of the games compressed nature, starting late as the city held its breath at the approaching Carthaginian army, the final day of the games was only three days away. The shortened timeline did not give him a lot of time to practice with the new settings.

For the first time since he had been forced to watch the various contests performed in the arena, Ky was disappointed when the event ended, and its winner was declared. He was not bothered by the end of the event because of the loss of entertainment, but because he still felt he had not gathered enough data on wrestling to perform to the level he knew he would need to in three days. If the Emperor thought it was important that today’s performance be spectacular to keep the populace on his side, it seemed almost certain that he would also be required to not lose during the wrestling competition.

While he made his point that he would not actively support the ludicrous notion that he was somehow divinely imbued, he had promised to not actively sabotage the Emperor’s propaganda either. While he could probably make the argument that these performances were a form of active support, it seemed best to follow the Emperor’s lead, no matter how distasteful it was. Ky thought it almost certain that he would destroy the notion entirely if he managed to lose the contest.

Once the victor of today’s match received his rewards and accolades and all the contestants marched out of the arena, the Emperor held up his hands, commanding silence from the crowd.

“The Tests of Jupiter are a special time for every Roman,” the Emperor said, his voice echoing across the stadium. “Each of you has the chance to step forward and prove yourself before the gods and your fellow countrymen. Today, however, is unique across the history of the games. We have been blessed by the presence of one of Jupiter’s own, sent to walk among us. As a special tribute to the games in Jupiter’s honor, the Sword has agreed to a display for your enjoyment.”

The crowd clapped, not in thunderous applause but in uncertainty. Ky looked at the Emperor who turned to him, one arm still raised towards the crowd. He could not help but think the Emperor had been right. The crowds’ response showed they were still unsure of Ky and what his presence meant. He was not crazy about the way the Emperor manipulated everyone around him, but he could not fault the old man’s feelings for his countrymen. Which also meant there was a good chance he was right about the way to win them over.

Ky gave the Emperor a slight head bow in acknowledgment, both that it was time for him to perform and of his overall mastery of the situation. The Emperor returned the gesture with a knowing smile. Ky turned to Sellic, who had accompanied him into the box while the rest of his detachment waited outside the door to the box.

“Sword,” he said, holding out his hand.

Sellic seemed surprised, his eyes darting to the Emperor. Ky knew that Sellic trusted him, but the idea of drawing a weapon in the Emperor’s presence was not something Romans did without very good cause.

“Go ahead,” the Emperor said, watching the byplay.

Ky took the extended weapon, turned towards the arena, and, planting one hand on the stone edge of the box, vaulted over, dropping nimbly to the sand floor twenty feet below.

“I am not one for tricks or meaningless displays,” Ky said, letting his voice carry. “My performance will be simple. The Emperor has offered to give fifty thousand sesterces to the man who can touch me with a weapon of their choice.”

He looked back at the Emperor, who grinned at him, his shoulders shaking slightly as he laughed. Ky had just offered what was half again the yearly wage of a middle-class Roman. While not outside of the Emperor’s ability to pay, it was not a paltry amount. The Emperor read the offer, correctly, as a dig by Ky to pay back all the little surprises the Emperor had put in Ky’s lap so far.

“Any are welcome to challenge me. Just notify one of the guards, and they will bring you to me and arm you as you request. I promise you will not be injured and I will not touch you with my own weapon.”

A low murmur traveled across the crowd as they looked around, trying to see who would be brave enough to take Ky up on his challenge. Ky set his feet shoulder-width apart and held his hands behind his back in a relaxed parade rest.

“Deactivate the kinetic shield,” he said internally to the AI.

“Deactivation of protective shielding is not recommended, Commander. Current scenario allows for no forward preparation for hostilities.”

“I might get hurt, but I don’t think they will be able to kill me in one shot, and the nanobots should heal anything short of decapitation, even if they should get lucky.”

“Possibility of damage to protective flight suit also exists. Any damage beyond minor cuts and abrasions are un-repairable under current level of technology. The loss of your flight suit will remove the ability to generate kinetic shielding, increasing long term possibility of permanent injury or death.”

“Recommendation noted. I still want to take my chances. Deactivate the shield.”

There was a long pause. Long enough that Ky thought he might have to re-issue the order, which would be a serious problem in its own right.

“Understood, Commander. Kinetic shielding has been disabled.”

Ky watched as the first contestant came forward. He was a younger man clad in the standard belted, knee-length tunic that average Romans wore, in contrast to the elaborate togas worn by the upper echelons of Roman society. He had chosen a gladius as his weapon of choice.

The man stopped several feet away and glanced around him, unsure of what to do next.

“Proceed when you are ready,” Ky said, standing stock still, his sword at his side, pointing towards the ground.

The man was clearly not an experienced fighter. He did not so much attack as wildly charge first. Even if Ky had not been augmented, he would have been able to avoid contact. The man flew past Ky, his forward momentum carrying him past his own feet, sending him sprawling into the dirt. Luckily the sword had been held out in front of him, leaving him uninjured, at least physically.

Ky stepped towards the man and put a hand down to the man to help him up, only to have it batted away. His opponent’s face was flush with anger. Ky stepped back as, from his prone position, he swung up with his sword.

The attack was a better attempt than his last, but Ky was able to dodge it with ease as well. As the man’s sword arm sailed by, Ky reached out and grabbed him by the wrist, lifting the man one-armed and setting him on his feet.

The man’s eyes went wide as Ky lifted him with ease, much like an adult would pick up a small child.

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of. No one will touch me today, putting you in good company,” Ky said quietly to the man before looking out into the crowd. “Let’s have a hand for my determined friend. Do any others of you have the courage he displayed?”

Ky released his arm and gave him a firm pat on the back, pushing him back towards the gates that led up to the seating areas. The man gave one glimpse back before walking out of the arena, even managing a wave to the crowd as he left.

The next several were like the first. Unskilled Romans of the middle and lower classes without much in the way of military training. While most managed to stay on their feet, none performed any better than the first challenger.

The crowd, which had cheered Ky’s first opponent, had started to let their attention wander as the excitement waned. Ky was starting to think having people challenging him, rather than plan this out further ahead and picking his challengers, was a mistake. Admittedly, he had not settled on this performance until shortly before it actually started, leaving no time to line up potential challengers.

Ky was thinking about what his next course of action could be when something caught his attention, or rather the lack of something did. Up to this point, people were just being ushered onto the field, where they would take their shot. This time no one was ushered out. Instead, what Ky assumed was the normal announcer, since the man had announced the earlier competition and the previous gladiatorial games, began speaking to the audience.

“Now that the preliminaries are out of the way, the Emperor has arranged a special treat. Following his stunning twenty-seventh victory in the gladiatorial games, I give you Veremund.”

Ky turned from the announcer back towards the entrance ramp to see what could only be described as a giant. Ky was fairly average for his time, standing at an even six-feet. The beast of a man coming towards him was six inches taller and significantly wider.

More surprising than the man’s sheer size was the way he moved. While Ky would not call his movement graceful, it was both faster and more fluid than would be expected from someone his size. The giant strode confidently towards Ky until he was about seven feet away, and then broke into a run, the giant ax he carried in his right hand coming up diagonally over his left shoulder.

Ky began to move to his left, to put his momentum away from the swing he expected to come, and then paused. While the giant’s arms telegraphed the swing, something in the way he tensed his lower arms and ran with his weight to one side suggested the telegraphed swing was a feint. Had the AI not analyzed Veremund’s motion and highlighted the small tell, Ky would have missed the small indications.

Thankfully at this point, he and the AI functioned smoothly as one unit, allowing Ky to take the last-minute adjustment and redirect his own movement. Just as Ky cut back, turning in towards the swing, the giant’s arm dropped and the telegraphed overhand chop changed into a swing traveling from below back up to his right shoulder.

Had Ky missed the change and continued on his previous path, he would have been caught flat-footed by the blade. Instead, Ky pushed up with his legs, leaping over the swinging blade and falling into a roll that brought him back up on his feet.

To his credit, the giant did not roar or stumble or allow the miss to otherwise affect him. He just turned and gave Ky a smirk, a silent acknowledgment to Ky for recognizing the feint that it was. He then lunged at Ky again, the ax swinging in rapid moves that allowed it’s momentum to carry over in a series of repeating motions.

Ky took a step back with each of the giant’s steps, dodging the swings. On the fourth swing, Ky brought up his sword, catching the ax just under the blade against the wooden handle. While Veremund was remarkably strong, his strength was still natural, a combination of genetics and training. Ky’s strength, on the other hand, was the result of thousands of years of human knowledge.

He must have expected to sweep Ky’s block aside, because the giant’s face registered shock when Ky’s weapon stayed in place, not moving an inch. The combination of the giant’s force and Ky’s sword cut clean through the hardwood handle of the ax, sending the blade tumbling past Ky on his right, digging itself into the sand floor while the remains of the handle continued on its swing, passing in front of Ky.

Deciding he was ready to end this, Ky swept his sword arm back and brought up his foot. The giant’s chest was still exposed, his arms open as a result of the swing. Ky’s foot caught him square in the chest. The look of surprise on the giant’s face when Ky’s hand sliced through his ax was nothing compared to the expression he had when his body bent in half at the blow, and his feet left the ground.

The giant sailed across the arena floor, traveling just short of twenty feet before smashing back into the ground and skidding across the dirt for another several feet, where he lay motionless. Ky was almost certain the man was not permanently injured. With the AI’s assistance, Ky made sure to kick right in the center of the man’s breastplate and use just enough force to propel him, but not so much that it would crush the metal into the man’s chest.

The crowd, who had been yelling with excitement at the giant’s attacks, had gone quiet as Ky sent the man flying. Their silence lasted only a second, but the drop in volume made the cheering that followed thunderous. Ky ignored them and kept an eye on the fallen man until he started moving again. After a few moments, the man stirred and pushed himself up.

He still looked stunned at the unexpected turn the combat had taken. He pushed himself up and looked to be considering another run at Ky, weaponless this time, until one of the guards by the gate, which he was now fairly close to, called him to stop. Thankfully, he was more level headed than the citizen Ky had first fought and did not seem inclined to lose control. Instead, he gave a half bow to Ky, acknowledging him as the victor and left, head held high.

Ky could not help but grimace inside as he considered how Rome was squandering someone like that as a slave, battling for their enjoyment. True, he had probably been an opponent and would not easily work with Rome, but even the attempt had to be better than wasting someone like him.

Ky thought that might have concluded the day’s activities, but apparently, the Emperor had one more surprise in him as the announcer again stood to talk.

“Now a true test of the Consul’s abilities, as he faces three of his lictores. Each highly skilled soldier has decades of experience in war.”

Ky looked as Sellic and two of the men on Sellic’s detail named Gallio and Archarius. Their swords were sheathed, and they carried their helmets under their arms as they approached, reminding Ky strongly of pilots walking towards their launch craft. Sellic was actually smiling as he walked towards Ky, although his two subordinates balanced between concentrated and concerned.

“You seem happy about this,” Ky said as he grasped Sellic’s forearm in greeting, stepping close enough for the men to have a quiet word before they began.

“Only because you’ve promised not to hurt us. We don’t usually get to go full out on someone when my life isn’t also on the line. This will be fun.”

“I guess you approve of the Emperor’s spicing up the show then?”

“This wasn’t the Emperor’s idea, it was Carus’s.”

“Really? Even the giant I just faced off with?”

“Yes.”

“I think I need to have a little talk with my lictor then.”

Sellic smiled again. Ky had gotten to know him a little on their journey to Devnum, but the situation had been serious at the time, leaving little room for idle conversation. Over the last day of having Sellic follow him around as one of his guards slash assistants, Ky had found the man to be quite jovial and upbeat.

“Until then, are you ready to see how good you really are? I told the boys to not hold back and that there’d be a price to pay if I thought they weren’t giving it their all.”

Ky stepped back, giving a nod. He did not pull up into a guard stance but stood still as the three soldiers donned their helmets and spread out to encircle him.

Ky let his senses extend out, the AI unleashing the real potential of his upgrades. The AI found and blocked out the sounds of the crowds while amplifying the closer sounds around him. His skin began registering changes in air pressure as the people around him moved. The scent of human odors filled his nostrils, taking into account degrees of strength as the men got closer or further away. While he was looking at Sellic, who remained in front of him, the intake from the unfocused areas of his vision were streamed into the AI’s processor core.

All the data was pulled together, updating continuously as the AI analyzed the data, building a picture of what was around him, even behind him. Ky could not actually see anything beyond what he focused on at the very moment. Still, the motion assist would work in necessary actions to counter unseen attacks based on the available data.

Assisted situational awareness was not foolproof, as Ky had learned repeatedly in training sessions. One of the tricks trainers used to integrate new implants with their AIs involved letting the trainee get used to the edge their implants gave them, become overconfident, and then show how fallible it really was. Training command had always made sure their charges understood what they could do with their newfound abilities, and what they could not do.

Had Ky faced people who knew how to deal with the various benefits he had been given, the odds of him winning would have been very low. In this time and place, however, his opponents not only did not know how to deal with his advantages, but they would also have had trouble understanding his implants very existence.

Sellic moved first, but only a fraction of an inch, feigning an attack to his left. Even before the motion assist began pulling him, Ky knew the attack would be coming from Gallio to his right. The feint was a well well-timed but obvious attempt to move Ky into the almost simultaneous lunge.

Ky’s arm swept back over his left shoulder to block a chop by Archarius as he moved forward towards a surprised Sellic. The Centurion’s feint had left his sword arm out of position and Ky moved too fast for him to react. Ky’s arm flashed down, the blade passing inches from Sellic’s face, the metal whistling as it cut through the air. Sellic’s hand was just coming up in a belated attempt to block the attack that would have already landed when Ky stopped his arm in place, denying the built-up momentum, and flicked his wrist to the side, banging the flat edge of his gladius against the man’s breastplate, as a message.

As soon as the metal clanged together, Ky pulled his elbow back and turned his wrist inward, half-clockwise, to bring the blade perpendicular to his forearm. He got his sword in place just in time to block Gallio’s blade, when he had turned his stab into a charge once Ky moved away from him.

Had someone else tried that move, or had Ky tried it against someone augmented like himself, he would have lost the weapon. His position did not allow for much leverage and his grip on the handle was lighter than it would otherwise be.

Against his current opponent, his block was enough. Gallio did manage to move Ky’s blade, pushing it out of line with his body and awkward enough he would have to reposition before continuing his attack. Putting Ky’s blade out of action, even momentarily, was somewhat of an achievement, but one that Ky had accepted as acceptable when he made his move. He had not planned on cutting at the legionary. Instead, he turned his body and hip towards Sellic and shot his foot out in a back kick. The combination of force Ky was able to put into the kick through his half turn and Gallio’s own charge sent him airborne when Ky’s foot connected on his chest.

The AI pinged a warning as soon as Ky’s foot came down, alerting him to a new danger. Ky followed the momentum of his kick into a roll, falling underneath Archarius’s second attack. The soldier’s stabbing blade whistled by overhead, where Ky had been a moment before.

Ky popped up and twisted around in time to see Sellic now coming for him again. Instead of blocking him, Ky twisted his body, letting the thrust sail just past his chest, putting him inside the legionaries’ arm. He grabbed the Centurions wrist and twisted around the outstretched arm, locking the elbow joint, forcing the man to follow Ky as he continued to twist around, or risk having his elbow break. Ky pushed his shoulder down hard as he twisted, flipping the man over, sending him crashing onto his back.

His grip loosened enough that with the impact Ky was able to slide up his wrist and pull the sword out of Sellic’s grasp. Turning around, he now took a ready combat stance, the blades separate but extended, looking at Gallio and Archarius.

“Hold,” Sellic said from his position on the ground. “Let’s stop this before he hurts one of us. He isn’t even breathing hard.”

Gallio and Archarius both skidded to a halt, their weapons dropping. While none of the men were particularly labored in their breathing, it was clear they were slightly winded by the exertion. Ky thought the centurion probably made a good call. The action had only lasted for a few moments, but it had been fast, and Ky had not pulled his contact very much. He knew they would be feeling the hits in the morning, especially Gallio.

Ky looked up to the Emperor’s box and saw the elder statesman was not paying attention. Instead, he was obviously arguing with his son, both men gesturing at the arena floor. After a moment of Ky and the three Legionaries watching the interchange between father and son, Caesius threw up his hands and stormed out of the box.

The Emperor controlled his features as he turned back to the crowd, but it seemed fairly obvious to Ky that he was agitated.

“Our new Consul has bested his challengers, the strongest gladiator in Rome, and three seasoned veteran legionaries. I believe now we all see the abilities Jupiter has gifted to him. To Ky, the Sword of Jupiter!”

The emperor lifted his arms up, sending the crowd into a frenzy of yells. The Emperor put his arms down and, after a few moments, the crowd settled down.

“Go now and enjoy the feasts.”

The Emperor turned to exit his box as Ky followed Sellic and the Legionaries out through the gates. Instead of taking the ramp down like the gladiators he had seen previously, they turned and took a side passage that led back up to the pathways around the outside of the Arena.

Ky could not help but wonder what life was like for those held below the floor of the Colosseum, waiting for their chance to fight to the death.

He was just considering that when he noticed Caesius making a straight line towards them. Seeing the murderous expression on the young man’s face, Sellic started to move to intercept him until Ky held out his arm, stopping the Centurion.

“I know you think you’re clever,” the younger man said, his finger stabbing into Ky’s chest. “The rubes out there may have fallen for your little show, but it doesn’t keep you from being a fraud. You should thank Father for forbidding me from going out and exposing your little charade.”

“I think he wanted to prevent his heir from being made to look like a fool in front of his future subjects. However, if you’d like for me to convince him to give you a public shot at me, I’d be happy to help you.”

Caesius’s face went beet red, and for a moment, Ky thought Caesius would attack him until the Emperor’s voice called from down the walkway, where he and his guards were starting to emerge from his viewing box.

“Caesius!”

While he only said the younger man’s name, the tone made it clear it was a reprimand. Ky did not, for an instant, believe Caesius would allow his father’s disapproval to slow his ambitions down in the least, but the warning did allow Caesius to pull himself back from the brink.

Instead of attacking Ky, he settled on one last, squinty glare before turning abruptly and walking away.

“You should be cautious, Consul. As you said, he will be Emperor someday, and when that happens, you will find yourself quickly out of favor.”

“Hopefully, he’ll outgrow his anger by then,” Ky said.

“I don’t think it’s possible to outgrow ambition.”

“Probably not, but I can hope.”

Chapter 17

While the games took up most of the afternoon, Ky’s day was far from over. The Emperor and his advisors had begun setting up meetings with some of the people that Ky would need to deal with to enact various parts of his plans.

This afternoon’s meeting had been set up by Hortensius, the businessman and blacksmith who ran the large ‘foundries’ in Devnum. Ky had not seen the foundries yet but, from the AI’s data, what the Romans described as a foundry was very different than what someone in his time would have thought of.

While important, the state of Roman metallurgy was not what today’s meeting was about. Before he could start changing that industry, and pretty much any of the others on his list, the first thing he needed was a way to pay for it. That had actually been a surprise to Ky.

When he began his plan, he had assumed that the government itself could fund everything that needed to be done. He had even accounted for the strain he assumed it would put on the government with the idea of the patents, which he could then give to the government itself to help raise funds, as well as changes in the current taxes.

While in the long run, those would be part of what the Empire would use to grow, it would not be all of it. Rome’s economy was much more advanced than Ky had imagined when he had started his plan. He originally had the idea that much of Rome’s wealth was owned by the government itself or at least pooled into the hands of local lords, who used that to govern particular regions.

Rome’s governmental system was much more centralized than that, with cities run by mayors and provinces when Rome had been large enough to have those, run by regional governors. Everyone was answerable back to the Central government, originally the Senate and now the Emperor and, to a lesser degree, the Senate. The upper classes of Rome, which included the Emperor, kept their wealth tied up in large landed estates focused almost entirely on agriculture.

Industry was almost entirely held in the hands of the equites. They would not be anything like what more modern people would consider a middle class, and many had much more wealth than the senatorial class, just without the accompanying status.

What this meant for Ky was that most of the industry he needed to change, was in the hands of private citizens. While Ky did intend to upend the society, centralizing all industry in the hands of the government was not part of that plan.

Working with private businesses would also have issues. Private industry, no matter how wealthy it’s merchants, was not going to be able to meet the capital requirements needed for the tasks ahead. He had spent some time thinking about how to get government resources into private industry and he thought he had a plan, but even with the AI’s databases and all the documents they had accessed, Ky still did not know enough to unilaterally make changes to how the Roman economy was going to operate. At least he did not have enough information to make those changes being confident they would not crash the Roman economy.

On the march back from the stadium, Ky called Carus to walk with him. He was still confused about the spy’s presence at the games. Carus’s detail took the third shift guarding and assisting Ky since that would be the easiest time for Carus to disappear to deal with the various assets he was putting in place as well as finding time to meet with Ky. Ky had seen him early that morning in fact, as he handed off duties to Sellic, who was in charge of the first third of each day.

“Why are you here?” Ky asked when Carus fell into step next to him.

“I wanted to see the tests, and I had some suspicions of what your performance would consist of, and I thought I might help with it.”

“We’ll get to that in a second. My first problem is that you have been awake all night. Sellic is about to hand off his detail to Strabo, meaning you’ll be on in just eight hours. We’re just getting started, I don’t need you dropping from exhaustion.”

“Eight hours is more than enough sleep, I normally get much less than that. I can promise I won’t do this normally. Your position is still very fragile and, while the Emperor clearly has the acumen to know how to get you accepted by the people, he has a lot to deal with besides you. This performance was an excellent idea, but he put too much faith in your ability to wow the crowds on your own and discounted the downsides if your performance was less than it needed to be. As it turned out, my fears were justified.”

“How so?”

“Everyone was very impressed with how you handled the first challenger since the average citizen has only heard rumors of your ability. After him, however, you started losing the crowd. Partly because the crowd could recognize these challengers wouldn’t pose a serious challenge to an average soldier or gladiator, and partly because without the sense of danger posed to you, it became boring. The mobs’ attention is fickle. I arranged for you to have challengers who the crowd would believe posed a real danger to you.”

“You didn’t feel the need to talk to me first before putting me in real danger?”

“I didn’t think I had put you in real danger, just that the crowd would believe that you were in danger. I spoke with Strabo and several of the other men who were close enough during the battle to see you in action. If even a part of what they said is true, nothing you faced today would have been a problem.”

“What if what you heard was less than half true?”

“Then you aren’t the man the Emperor believes you are and aren’t going to help save our empire from anything. I’m not sure what’s bothering you. I watched the contests, and you dealt with them efficiently.”

Ky sighed again and said, “I know I said I was giving you a wide latitude to set everything up, but next time if it involves me, even if you think your idea is perfectly safe, I want you to at least run it by me. While I managed to deal with both of your surprises, some warning would have been helpful.”

“As you say, Consul.”

Ky had the distinct impression that Carus had absolutely no plans to follow through with that agreement, but he let it drop, instead sending the spymaster off to get some much-needed rest.

Ky broke from the Emperor’s entourage, making a brief stop back at his assigned quarters to let Sellic’s detail switch off with Strabo’s. It was during the changing of the guards that Ky realized how useful the lictores were going to be. Hortensius had sent word the night before that he had arranged for this meeting after the games, but Ky had been so wrapped up in what he would have to do during the games that he had not thought to find out where, exactly, he was meeting the businessman.

Thankfully, Strabo had kept it in mind. The Emperor had said the lictores were going to be as much adjutants as actual guards. It had not occurred to Ky what that would entail, but with everything that he had lined up before him, having someone to help manage the details was going to be useful.

Ky followed Strabo into one of the imperial meeting rooms, finding Hortensius along with several men he did not recognize already gathered around a set of stools. That was one thing Ky found unusual about Roman customs. While they kept tables for eating and when required, like looking over maps, most business was done sitting on stools, lounging on reclined couches, or in the bathhouses.

While Ky realized he would have to forgo the luxury of conference rooms filled with tables lined by projection screens and built-in terminals, he had not thought the table itself would be one of the things he would have to forgo.

“Consul, I hear good things about your performance in the games,” Hortensius said.

While he sat up straighter, the Roman did not come towards Ky or extend his hand. He had noticed this a few times before and had queried the AI about it. In his time, handshakes were one of the more common forms of casual greetings. The same was apparently not true of this era. He was not clear on the rules for when a handshake was appropriate, but it seemed something more common among soldiers or close friends. It was not found at business meetings, as the AI’s research suggested it would be seen as somewhat strange behavior.

“Let me introduce you to some of my colleagues,” Hortensius continued. “This is Paulus Rutilius Laetinianus, the chief mensarii, and Sisenna Viducius Planta, one of the more prolific argentarii in Devnum. When it comes to the flow of money through Rome, Laetinianus and Planta are the two most influential men in Devnum.”

Ky had spent a fair amount of time with the AI puzzling over the Roman banking system. While it was more advanced than he would have first guessed with banks, the sale of portions of a business for capital, and a set system of loans, it was also incredibly confusing. From his understanding, the mensarii and the argentarii were two sides of the same coin. Both ran what counted as banks in the Roman world and provided services such as changing currency, holding deposits, and lending money. The main difference was the mensarii were lenders employed and funded by the state, while argentarii were private citizens.

Ky was leery of the argentarii, who regularly forced those who could not repay their loans into slavery. From what Ky could tell, the practice was disturbingly common.

“Good to meet you both. Has Hortensius told you anything about what I’ve already discussed with him?”

“A little,” Laetinianus said.

“There wasn’t much I could tell them,” Hortensius added. “I explained to them that you were looking at strategies to grow our manufacturing base, but beyond that, we never discussed details. My understanding is that, aside from the changes to taxes you mentioned, there would be a need to find capital to do some of this expansion.”

“That is exactly what we need. From what I’ve seen, Rome has two large financial roadblocks, one on the ability to distribute capital and the other on the amount of capital available to distribute. Both of these problems can be solved by one solution, which involves a change in the way money lending is done. You actually already have the basic practices in place, all that’s needed is to expand them. While I can give you the ideas needed to change the current system, I need your help in turning these ideas into a reality, and your acceptance of these changes.”

All three men leaned forward on their stools, interested.

“I’ll take the second problem first. Am I correct that the amount of money you have to lend is limited by the amount of money you have personally, or that’s made available by the treasury in Laetinianus’s case, and what money’s given to you by citizens to hold?”

“Yes,” Laetinianus said. “Although we mostly lend out money from our own reserves, since current law does not allow us to pay interest to people who deposit money with us, something the argentarii are still allowed to do.”

“On the other hand,” Planta added, “There have been enough less than forthright argentarii to make many citizens wary of giving us their money to control, for fear of their money being stolen from them, or lost in unwise lending. That has sent many of the depositors back to the mensarii and forced us to raise the interest we payout to retain clients.”

“While I’m not going to address that today,” Ky said. “There are things that can be done there, such as the Empire guaranteeing deposits held by argentarii in exchange for agreements on restrictions on what could be done with that money and regular inspections of the argentarii records. It would probably become involved enough that it would require the Senate to pass legislation to fund and maintain it, but there are options.”

“I’m not sure you’ll be able to convince a lot of Senators of the wisdom of that kind of thing, but if the details are right, I could see how it might work,” Hortensius said.

“That’s something we can discuss, but like I said, it’s not what I’m here to discuss now. Especially if it involved additional legislation. Back to my initial point that one limiting factor on how much any one lender, be they argentarii or mensarii, is the amount of money they have available to them at any given time to put into a company.”

“That is essentially correct,” Laetinianus said.

“The second problem is how you get that money to businesses. Currently, you lend money to a business for a fixed amount of time based on the collateral they can put up for it. In most cases, that is the land that their business sits on. If they don’t pay the loan back in enough time, then you take that land or whatever you agreed to for collateral. This has the effect of limiting the value you are willing to loan to whatever the value of the land being offered up for collateral is, which in turn has pushed most of the available cash flow towards estate holders and away from more industrial businesses that might use less land but have just as high, or higher, capital needs. Does that sound about right?”

“Yes,” Hortensius said with a grimace, giving a side glance to the other two men.

This was clearly an old point of contention between them since neither of the other two men tried to meet the gaze.

Ky drew their attention back to him by saying, “Our problem is that most of the investment needed for these new expansions will be industrial, not agricultural. There will be some changes to farming, but nothing that will compare to both the changes to existing industries like smithing and forging, and the creation of whole new industries.”

“While there are several changes we will eventually make to solve these two problems, the one that will address both the fastest is fractional investment. While a lot of what I’m going to say will be handled through the mensarii, there are several ways the argentarii will be able to take advantage of this system.”

“The way this works is that when a company needs investment, they offer up a share of the ownership of their company. I know you do that now, but it goes further than that. They would register the percentage of the ownership they are offering with the mensarii. They would tell the mensarii how much they wanted for that portion of the business and, importantly, allow a clerk from the mensarii’s office access to their business. That clerk would put together a listing of all the costs, revenue, and debts of the company. Using that information, the clerk can put together a historical rate of growth, projected rate of growth, and other information that would be valuable for someone looking to invest in the company. Once all that information is put together, they’d bundle it together in a single document available in the mensarii’s offices. Where I’m from this would be called a ‘prospectus.’ Anyone, be it the argentarii or just average citizens with a few extra sesterces, could come and buy a portion of that offered amount, and the mensarii would list the sale in their records.”

“How would that work?” Hortensius asked. “I sell a portion of my business to the mensarii, and they then sell it up for pieces? Do they profit from those pieces? Why would I do that instead of just bringing on a business partner and giving them that part of my business?”

“The mensarii aren’t buying any part of your business, they’re simply an agent to facilitate the selling and buying of shares of a business. You still own any portion of the business not purchased, and the money from purchases of shares are given to you by the mensarii as they are purchased. For example, say a company wants ten-thousand sesterces and are willing to offer fifty percent of their business for it. Each sesterce would be worth five ten-thousandth of a percent of the company. Each month, or quarter, or year, the company would give fifty-percent of their net profit to the mensarii, who would then divide that money among the shareholders, based on the amount of that they were owed. This would allow the pool of available capital able to be invested to be increased from just what a mensarii had available to funds from all the people of Rome, and even to people outside of Rome if they can get back to Rome to receive their payment, which my people call a dividend. The mensarii would again send out a clerk to ensure that the business is reporting their earnings fairly and accurately.”

“We would have to raise additional taxes to pay all those clerks to do that work.”

“There would be a small fee with every purchase of shares, say two percent of the purchase price. That could, of course, change over time if it turned out to not be enough.”

“What about if things don’t go well and the company goes out of business?”

“It’s the same risk as if you were to loan the total sum of money to a company, and they go out of business. That is one of the ways an argentarii could still offer services. They would have the expertise to understand the business records and know if an investment is a good deal or if the business is either asking too much for their share or the investment is ill-advised. They could charge a small fee on top of the mensarii fee in exchange for that expertise.”

“That might work,” Planta said.

“It actually goes further than that. People could also sell their shares to someone else for whatever they can convince the other people to buy it for. If a business is doing very well, you could find someone willing to pay more for your share than you paid for it. Eventually, there will be groups who buy shares of a company that people are interested in, wait until people are willing to pay more for that share, and then sell it to someone else, making money not only off of the ownership of the company, but off the perceived value of the share itself as well. The owner of the business, if things are going well, can even try and buy back shares of their company they previously sold. We will need to put in a series of rules into place to keep people from cheating the system or others, such as driving up interest in the shares of a business to make its shares worth more artificially and leaving the value of those shares to plummet once the original seller manages to sell them all. That’s just one example. We will have to sit with senators and get rules in place to prohibit artificially profiting off of this kind of market at the expense of others through various forms of deceit.”

“Besides money lenders and Roman citizens, we will also be able to sell some of these shares to foreign traders. Of course, first, we have to convince them Rome is not about to be crushed by the Carthaginians, but once they are sure Rome is here to stay, and if we sell it to foreign traders and businessmen, we will have capital from outside of Rome coming into Rome. I understand some of these foreigners sometimes change their business from trading to raiding Roman coastal villages. Having investments in Roman businesses will make some of them think twice since some targets could actually hurt the income they get off their investments.

“I know something like this will face challenges,” Ky continued, holding up his hand and ticking off each point. “We have to get the word to businesses to actually agree to do this. We have to get the word out to people that this opportunity exists. We have to get the clerks in place and trained to understand what they’re doing, including the new system for writing numbers I discussed with Hortensius yesterday and another new idea that I will get to later called double-entry bookkeeping. Finally, we have to make people believe this is a good idea.”

“If we can meet those challenges, though, it will not only make enough capital available to more companies, but it will strengthen Rome as a whole. A system like this will allow more money to find its way to citizens who decided to buy shares of companies. Citizens with more money can buy more things from merchants, creating a cycle that will lift Rome as a whole.”

“I will be honest,” Laetinianus said. “I’m not convinced this will work. I’m willing to go along with it, but I can’t see the average citizen taking their money and putting it into something like one of these shares rather than using any extra money they have for luxuries or drink.”

“Have some faith Laetinianus,” Hortensius said. “I like the idea. I’ve had to take out loans in the past, and the process was far from agreeable. Speaking as a businessman, this is something I think could work. In fact, I’m willing to put up thirty percent of my foundries as the first shares available.”

Laetinianus’s eyebrows rose in surprise, “I asked you just last week to buy part of those. You said you didn’t need an investor and didn’t want a business partner.”

“At the time, I didn’t. Beyond what we’re seeing today, Ky has said he has some changes to the way we currently produce metal that will revolutionize the industry. On top of that are all the new weapons and material the Empire is planning on purchasing for the legions as they get ready to take the fight to the Carthaginians. Change is coming to Devnum, and I plan on getting ready for it.”

While Ky had never said anything in their previous conversation was secret, so far everything Ky had offered up had been to a select few people. It was clear from the way the two money lenders looked at each other that it was news to them. While Ky wasn’t overly concerned about the changes getting out, he wondered if everyone would see them as favorably as Hortensius clearly did.

For now, though, Hortensius’s offer pushed both men into action, with their meeting being sidetracked for over an hour while they discussed how much each man wanted to buy of Hortensius’s business. Ky had to remind them that it would be best, in the interest of promoting this new market for investing, to allow a good portion of Hortensius’s shares to remain available for other argentarii and average citizens.

Eventually, Ky got the three men back on track and they worked late into the night going over the details of what needed to be done to put a system like this in place. There would be problems, of course, and when the other three started to fade from exhaustion, Ky let them break up. Ky knew that what he had just unleashed would undoubtedly cause problems in the future. He had studied much of the AI’s records of the history of financial markets and knew that, in time, Romans would figure out things like the ‘pump-and-dump’ and Ponzi schemes, just to name a few of the financial crimes that did not currently exist.

On the other hand, ideas like these had revolutionized Europe and helped pull it towards the industrial age, as waves of capital found its way into the hands of inventors and businesses, allowing them to take advantage of everything that was happening around them. There was no way to be certain this would work, of course, but it was the only path Ky and the AI could see to jump-start the industrial revolution fifteen hundred years early.

Chapter 18

The next morning Ky was in a foul mood, something his lictores picked up on quickly. Partly it was because he’d started to push himself too hard. While it was true, he could operate on significantly less sleep than non-augmented humans, he had pushed this ability too far. Even with the changes to his system, Ky couldn’t go with only a few hours of sleep a night indefinitely. While the meeting had run late, once it was over Ky still had hours of work left to do.

There were mounds of technical documents in the AIs databases that needed to be transcribed onto scrolls for the Romans who didn’t have the benefit of an advanced computer system in their head. Since they were millennia away from data ports and communication relays, the only person who could get those documents onto paper was Ky.

He’d planned for his meeting the previous afternoon to be just that, in the afternoon. Instead, it had been after midnight when he finally returned to his quarters. All of which left Ky with only an hour’s sleep.

His exhaustion was only part of his ill mood, however. Today’s task was one he’d needed to make, but he didn’t relish. Today they were heading to the camp he’d convinced the legions to set up for the thousands of prisoners taken during the battle.

If left to their own devices, the Romans would have slaughtered many of these people and sold the rest into slavery. Ky knew most of the military commanders weren’t happy with the decision since the money made from selling the vanquished in battle was partly paid to the legions, who didn’t appreciate the loss.

Ky also knew it was going to get worse. Eventually, some senators would realize the Empire was spending money to feed, treat, and guard the Carthaginian soldiers and their various camp followers. He didn’t know specifics, but Ky was certain it would end up being a significant amount of money, and that the Roman politicians would not be happy about its expenditure.

His lictores left Ky to his own thoughts, riding slightly behind him, alert but respectful. Ky made a mental note to apologize for his attitude and thank them for their patience … once he was able to do it without making things worse, of course.

Their first stop was the Seventh Legion since Velius’s men had been given responsibility over the prison camp.

The legate, most likely notified by one of the patrols they’d passed as they neared the camped legion, rode out to greet them. Velius began to greet Ky in the friendly manner he’d taken to, extended a hand in greeting when he stopped short. Ky assumed the legate had read Ky and his lictores’ expressions and realized the mood of his visitors needed a different tack. Ky was actually impressed with the legate’s ability to so easily read and adapt to a situation, but it seemed unlikely someone would rise to the position of leading thousands of men without learning something of politics.

“Consul, I hope you are well. We’ve set up breakfast for you and your men before we begin today’s task.”

“Thank you, Velius, but if it’s all the same to you, I’d prefer if we got to it right away.”

“As you say, Consul.”

Velius, a handful of his officers, and several dozen legionaries joined Ky’s small group as they left the Legionary camp and traveled the quarter of a mile to the camp that had been set up for prisoners. Ky had already seen the ramshackle prison camp through his drones cameras, but that didn’t quite prepare him for how bad the conditions here were.

Their tents were sticks with bits of cloth strung between them. A stream ran across one side of the camp with no latrines set up. The prisoners were literally defecating in their drinking water. What was worse was all the women being housed with the soldiers. Even though everyone was from the same army that had traveled together from Londinium, now that they were prisoners instead of soldiers, many of the soldiers had taken to raping any of the women they could get their hands on.

The women had banded together for defense in once corner of the prison camp, viciously attacking any man that came close. Unfortunately, they were not near the water source, and several women got picked off and abused when they went to collect water.

“Legate, this camp is an outrage and a stain on your entire legion.”

Velius had the sense to look properly chastised, but several of his officers looked more upset by Ky’s statement than they did at the scene they saw in front of them.

“Consul, why should it matter? They’re little better than slaves.”

“Besides the fact that these are human beings who deserve to be treated as such, it matters because how you treat your enemies will be what decides if Rome stands or falls. Rome cannot conquer the world and force everyone to submit to its will. Look at the Carthaginians and how they rule their empire with a bloody fist.”

“It seems to be working for them,” the same officer said, ignoring the looks from his fellow soldiers imploring him to be silent.

“Does it? Carthage rules more land than any nation before it, from Britannia to the far edges of the former Persian Empire. How many troops did Carthage commit to destroying Rome? While it was four times the legions it faced, that was only because of good timing on its generals part, since the bulk of your forces were in the north. Had they been here, you would have had the edge in men. They could have brought enough soldiers to stand shoulder to shoulder across the width of this island and twenty men deep. Why would they send so few soldiers?”

“Because they are busy putting down revolts,” Velius answered.

“Exactly. Carthage must maintain full garrisons in every city and an army in every region to maintain order, and even then, they lose thousands of soldiers to revolutionaries and revolts. That is the path an Empire that rules through fear must follow.”

“Rome is not big enough to rule that way and, if it were, it would not be able to do so forever. If Rome ruled the world that Carthage now does, it would be able to hold on for a few centuries, until outside forces weakened Rome’s stranglehold just enough to let the people rise up and overthrow them. That is the end result of an empire ruled by an iron fist.”

The soldiers may not have realized Ky was referencing their historical path, or at least the one his historical Rome took, but they at least recognized that there was something to his words.

“While Rome must stand for what’s morally right in the way it treats prisoners, we’re also squandering an opportunity. Rome needs soldiers. Badly. My understanding of how the Carthaginian army works is that many of its armies, especially those operating on the fringes of their empire, are made up of either slaves or unwilling conscripts from recently conquered lands, all controlled by officers loyal to Carthage. These are people who not only didn’t want to fight for Carthage but have a reason to actively dislike the Carthaginians.”

“How would we know we aren’t putting possible spies and saboteurs in our own forces if we recruited from this?”

“First, we need to skip any officers. They are the most likely to be loyal to Carthage. We have a team of officers go through and interview all of the regular soldiers, find out who’s from which tribe, and piece together those conscripted against their will. I’ll talk with Ramirus and see if he has any people who could help you with that. He knows more about the various factions inside the Carthaginians and outside populations to have at least some clue if people are telling the truth. We can then give those soldiers a choice, stay in confinement until hostilities with Carthage are at an end or join the Roman legions, offering to let them return to their homes once everything is over or become Roman citizens after a set time in the legions.”

“We don’t have the authority to make them citizens!” Velius said, almost scandalized.

“I’ll worry about that part. We need a reason for them to not just fight for Rome because it’s the best of bad choices, but to do so because it’s good for them in the long run. We take those new recruits and spread them across the legions, trying to not put more than a handful in any century just in case we missed any troublemakers.”

“We can try that,” Velius said, unconvinced.

Ky decided as long as they were willing to go along with him, that’s all he could ask for. What he was offering was a fairly extreme change from how armies would have treated prisoners, and it would be too much to ask for even someone as mentally flexible as Velius to buy into enthusiastically.

“First, though, we need to convince them that we aren’t the same as the Carthaginians, and that starts with how they’re treated. This war with Carthage is going to last a while, so we need to come up with a better way of housing prisoners. We need workable living conditions, latrines separate from their drinking water, and edible rations. The women need to be housed separately from the men and stiff penalties put in place if any of our soldiers take advantage of them.”

“Who will pay for that?” one of Velius’s aids asked, honestly this time as opposed to derision disguised as a question.

“For now, I’ll talk to the Emperor about funding the setting up of a semi-permanent prisoner camp. You’re right in thinking that won’t work in the long run, but there are ways around that. We can talk to some of the merchant houses and see about loaning out prisoners as a workforce, along with guards to watch them, and using that money to maintain their incarceration. We’ll have to ensure they aren’t ill-treated, but in the long run, that will help out also since it will free our workforce from doing important but dangerous jobs like mining. Those freed up workers could then work in the new businesses that will be starting up or, more importantly, join the legion. Against a different enemy, we might even be able to convince our enemies to exchange our captured soldiers for theirs, but that doesn’t seem to be an option with the Carthaginians. Instead, we’ll have to settle with imprisoning those loyal enough to Carthage to not switch sides until hostilities are over when we can just release them back into the care of the Carthaginians.”

“I’ll have some of our surveyors look for a location for a semi-permanent prison camp that meets your requirements,” Velius said, still unenthused but willing to be a good soldier.

“For now, put some more men on guarding them, including a guard around the area the women have separated for themselves, and ensure they have access to enough food to not drop dead from starvation. That I want done right away.”

“As you say, Consul.”

Ky felt better about the situation as he rode away from the camp. He couldn’t fault Velius that much for the state of the place, since the very idea of interning prisoners instead of killing or enslaving them was, in itself, such a foreign idea to anyone of this time. Beyond setting a new goal post for the Romans, it served as a reminder for Ky that these things would have to be done in stages since he didn’t only have to introduce new ways of doing things, but also had to change the basic Roman beliefs of ‘the right way to do things.’

After pointing out a few more changes that needed to be made to the prison camp, Ky returned to the Seventh Legion’s camp with Velius. While he still had a lot left to do, Ky took the remainder of the morning touring the Seventh Legion camp and talking to the soldiers. He was going to ask a lot from these men very soon, both in fighting once winter passed and in heavy training leading up to that, which made spending some time with the rank and file worth doing, regardless of his busy schedule.

Ky only stopped his tour when Strabo and his men showed up to take over from Sellic, carrying the news that he was needed back at the imperial complex. Ramirus and the Emperor had come through with their promise to get some of the senators together to sit down with him, and they wanted to do it today.

Ky had already come to the conclusion that the single hardest group to convince of everything he had planned would be the senators. They had a lot invested in the way things were currently going, both in their land-based wealth and the power, that they aggressively protected from further weakening by the Emperor. Starting with the Emperor’s great-grandfather’s elevation from Consul to Emperor, each generation of the Germanicus line had increased the power of the Emperor at the expense of the Senate. Their appropriation of senatorial prerogatives had always been to deal with an emergency, but they had never returned that power when the emergency passed.

As things stood, the balance of power between the Emperor and the Senate stood at a precarious balance. A good example was the military. The Emperor was the supreme commander of the legions with all legates answerable only to him, including the naming of commanders. The Senate, meanwhile, controlled all tax revenue and got to decide how much of that went to the legions. The Emperor could use his own vast holdings to pay the legions, but even his holdings paled in comparison to the money controlled by the Senate. If they cut off funds, it would not take long before the legions ran out of money to pay the soldiers, which would almost always mean unrest.

From what Ky had read, the Senate threatened to withhold these funds regularly to force the Emperor into specific action, the last time being when the Emperor hesitated to send more than one legion north to deal with the Picts. Thanks to Ramirus, the Emperor had been aware that the Carthaginians were putting together a force to attack the Romans. He’d attempted to send a single legion north, retaining the other five legions at Devnum to repel the attack when it came.

When the Senate had demanded the Emperor send all but one legion north to deal with the Pict incursions, things had come to a head. Eventually, the Emperor had been forced to blink in the face of unrest among the legions when the money stopped. He’d managed to convince enough senators to let two legions stay behind in exchange for sending the bulk of the Praetorian Guard in their place.

Ky couldn’t wrap his head around the short-sighted decision to prioritize protecting northern Roman holdings over the possibility of complete annihilation at the hands of the Carthaginians, but that had been exactly what they’d done.

Now it was Ky’s turn to face the Roman elite. Carus had already briefed him on the basic state of the Senate and their anger over Ky’s appointment as Consul. Most of the things he needed to do, such as the tax changes he’d proposed and the creation of a patent system, required the Senate to pass new legislation. The meeting today was going to be the easy part. The senators Ramirus had lined up were already in the Emperor’s camp and would be predisposed to work with Ky on his ideas. They were also one of the smaller factions in the Senate and didn’t have enough power to do anything by themselves.

Ky’s hope was that they would have ideas of how to pull together a big enough coalition of factions to get the laws he needed written and passed.

Ky arrived back at the imperial complex and was led to the one major area he hadn’t spent time in yet, the forum. The AI had shown Ky some pictures of both the ruins of the forums still preserved in his time and pictures of what scholars believed the forum to look like in ancient times.

Ky wasn’t sure if it was the scholars who were off or if the forums here in Devnum were a poor copy of the original, but the room was a shadow of those images. It was generally smaller than the pictures of ruins he’d seen and much darker than artist renditions had made it out to be.

That was Ky’s first real impression of the seat of Roman government, how dark it was. Thinking about it, calling this room a shadow of the original was fairly on the mark. The main forum room was filled with shadows cast both by the people in it and the very room itself, making the whole place feel somewhat ominous.

The building itself was built up with a series of steps leading up to a flat area that circled the building with large arched doors spread around the rectangular building. The doorways lead to more stairs that lead down to a flat area in the center of the building, tiered stone benches flanking on either side of the walkway. Senators would sit on the benches surrounding whoever was speaking at the moment from the flat center area, the speaker looking up at his colleagues.

The design had the benefit of allowing all the spectators to see the presenter and the presenter to see everyone he was talking to at the moment, but it also meant that all light came in through windows and the doorways well above the speaking area, leaving that the darkest part of the forum.

Scattered around the stone steps were ten senators, a number lower than Ky had thought there would be. Rome currently had ninety senators, all appointed by the Emperor. There wasn’t a law that mandated a specific number of senators but it tended to stay fairly constant by tradition, except for periods when the size of Rome decreased, such as the loss of the lower half of Britannia, which had dropped the Senate from two-hundred members down to the current ninety.

The only official requirements for someone to be a senator was based on the value of the land and buildings they owned. This tended to favor landed Romans such as those who owned large plantations over wealthy Romans who made money off of various trades but didn’t own much beyond perhaps one warehouse or factory.

During the days of the Republic, before the Romans had been forced off the continent entirely, there had been a separate legislative branch called the assembly, which was elected by the people through direct democracy. One of the early decrees of the first emperor was to get rid of this body, passing its powers to the senate that the then Emperor controlled.

Ky was sure the plan had been that since the Emperor controlled appointment to the Senate, that he would control the Senate entirely and through them, control the laws that governed the state. That is, in fact, how it had worked in the historical Rome of Ky’s timeline. Unfortunately, things didn’t work quite that way.

One problem was that appointment to the Senate was for life. Unless the Senate unanimously voted to expel a senator, they could not be removed, even by a decree from the Emperor. The other was that, even though the Emperor could appoint who he wanted to the Senate, it wasn’t always that simple. Emperors began needing favors, often money or political support, from powerful men and used Senate appointments to ensure those favors. Sometimes the vote of a sitting senator would require admitting their ally or descendant to the legislative body.

Piece by piece over the hundred years since the republic became an Empire, the Emperor lost control of the Senate, until it became an active check on his power. Perhaps, given enough time and careful planning, the Emperor would be able to use his power of appointment to weed out the troublesome parts of the Senate and reform it into something more easily bent to his will, but Rome didn’t have time for that process.

What that left was coalition building, which is what brought Ky here to these men. The immediate problem was that ten loyalists out of ninety senators was not even close to enough to get anything Ky needed done accomplished.

“Consul,” Ramirus said, standing up from one of the benches where he’d been talking with one of the assembled senators. “I’m sorry to take you away from your business with the legions on such short notice, but I knew how urgently you needed to talk to these men.”

“You did the right thing. We have a lot to do and not a lot of time to do it in. The campaigning season is only a few months away and there is no doubt the Carthaginians will march as soon as conditions allow it. You’re right that we have a lot to accomplish between now and then.”

“You have already stirred up quite the controversy, Consul,” one of the men said. “Rumors are already circulating about some fairly drastic changes you are proposing.”

“This is Quintus Trebatius Taenaris, one of the longest-serving senators, currently.”

Taenaris was an old man, with thin grey hair and dark grey eyes. His face was weathered to the point of resembling old leather, with dark spots dotted across his face and arms. The AI highlighted several and put up percentages that were not favorable, suggesting the possibility of late-stage skin cancer. There was no way to be sure without a more thorough examination, but the current level of technology wouldn’t allow Ky to do much about that even if it was diagnosed successfully.

The one thing that really stood out on the man, however, was the sharp intelligence in his eyes.

“Is it true you want to change the way taxes are assessed?”

“Yes, which sounds extreme, I know. I’m not sure what Ramirus has told you about some of the things I’ve proposed, but many of the new technologies and theories that I’m introducing will create a wave of change that will ripple out across Rome, and probably through other nations as well. Right now, the majority of the wealth of Rome and most of your population is centered on agriculture. Once all the technologies I’m introducing are implemented, you will find that the situation will have changed radically. Most of the wealth in Rome, along with a large percentage of the workforce, will switch from agriculture to manufacturing. This will happen because changes in agriculture technology will make the production of a larger output per hectare possible with a fraction of the workforce; while new inventions, both martial and civilian, will create a greater demand for workers, and will open up new markets. I know it’s easy to say that, and much of the push back I’m going to get is because people either won’t understand or won’t believe that will be the eventual outcome of these new technologies.”

“We’ve heard about some of the new weapons you’ve suggested and some of the new business models, but you’re right, I’m not sure I believe those alone are enough to produce the change you are talking about.”

“Those alone wouldn’t be, but I have only begun to put my ideas and inventions into practice. Because of the threat facing Rome, I, of course, started with the military aspects, but that will be only a small part of what I’m introducing. These changes will come in stages, since some technology I plan to introduce requires other technology to be in place first. As a taste though, I will be sharing technologies for stronger plows for faster planting, new fertilizers, new threading and processing technologies for agricultural products, new manufacturing techniques for a hundredfold spread of creating parts that are so identical as to be interchangeable, and new metallurgy for creating stronger and more versatile metals. That is, again, just a small list of what I’m talking about; but each of those will have an effect on how money is generated in Rome, which means the tax laws must follow as well.”

A different senator spoke up, saying, “There are a lot of very powerful people in Rome who will fight these changes. Men whose fortunes, and power, are based on their land and slaves.”

“That’s why I need your help in putting together the votes to get these laws passed.”

“There are some groups of senators that I think we could get to support at least some of what we’ve heard about,” Taenaris said. “Even with them, I’m not sure it will be enough.”

“For now, let’s talk to any senator where there’s even a slight chance they might join us on some of the legislation. We’ll have to worry about the rest when we get there.”

“Fine. I think our best course is the new patent law Ramirus and Lurio told us about. Some will oppose it just because it’s new, but since it doesn’t touch existing prerogatives and will create more imperial purchasing they can skim off of, some of the Emperor’s opponents will support it.”

“Good,” Ky said. “That is what we need first anyway, since many of the new inventions I will be introducing need to be started on sooner rather than later, as they’re needed before we can go to the next stage of inventions. We also need the money from that to begin to rebuild the legions, which is our first priority.”

“I’d suggest letting me work on that, alone. Since it comes from inside the loyalist block, it’ll be clear the Emperor is behind it, but having you involved will put off some of the hard-line senators. While I work on that, we will put together meetings for you and everyone but the hard-liners for your other proposals. Be aware the hard-liners under Mercurialis are by far the largest voting bloc in the Senate, and many senators of the other blocs will stick with Mercurialis, regardless.”

“I’ll have to be convincing,” Ky said, in grim determination.

Chapter 19

Ky returned from the camps in the mid-afternoon and headed back to the rooms he’d been assigned. The days after the battle had been non-stop movement, as he met with key players and started making arrangements. After his early morning tour of the prison camp and meeting with the Senators, Ky had made sure nothing else was scheduled for the rest of the afternoon.

While he had the AI to assist him, he still had to go over a lot of files the AI had prepared, so that he understood the suggestions that he needed to give the Romans. So far, he’d been doing that by cutting out much of the sleep he should be getting every night, but that wasn’t a long term solution. He needed rest, and for that, he needed to make time during the day to work on the plans.

Ky had just sat down at the small table provided in his rooms when there was a knock on his door. Ky sighed and stood. He was still in somewhat of a bad mood from his visit to the prison camp and lack of sleep. While he didn’t want to inflict that mood on his lictores any more than he already had, he’d specifically said he didn’t want to be disturbed.

“What …” he said before stopping, surprised.

Instead of one of his men at the door, he found Lucilla, her hand still raised from knocking.

“Is this a bad time?”

“No. No. Sorry. I just had my mind on some things. What can I do for you?”

She gave a slight glance to the guard at the door before saying, “Can I come in and talk to you?”

“Certainly,” Ky said, stepping aside to let her in.

She walked into his room and turned, standing in the center of the room.

“Do you want to sit?”

“No, I won’t be here long. Tonight is the third of the Ludi Scaenici. The Ludi Scaenici is a series of plays put on as part of the games. It’s a way to honor the gods through story, much like the games in the arena honor them through physical feats. For several years the performances have been mostly farces and pantomimes, which I don’t care for, but tonight Lars Marius Lucilianus is putting on a real play. He is my favorite playwright and it has been some time since he last created a play.”

“Okay,” Ky said, not sure where she was going with this.

“I’d like for you to accompany me to the play.”

“Me? I’m not sure I know much about this kind of thing.”

“It doesn’t matter. It would be considered a high honor for a consul to watch his play, and I think the people would like to see another side of you. You can’t be the warrior all the time. Plus, I would like for you to watch it with me.”

Ky thought about everything he’d planned to do that evening but quickly put those plans aside. She was right. So far, he’d only really shown himself to the public as someone interested in the military. For the people to trust him enough to follow where he needed to take them, he needed them to trust him as more than just a general. Besides, the idea of spending time with Lucilla pleased him. Ky had been enjoying their walks and small talks together, and he couldn’t pass up an opportunity to spend time with her.

“Then yes, I’d be happy to go with you.”

“Great. I will come back this evening and we can walk to the amphitheater together.”

“Good. I’ll see you then.”

Ky opened the door for her and watched Lucilla walk down the corridor away from his room as he considered his reaction to her visit. His mood was noticeably better, which given he now had less time to work on planning than before she’d visited, seemed counter-intuitive. He’d felt something like this when he talked with Sara, back in his old life, but not to this degree.

His thoughts on Lucilla and her visit were cut short when a knock sounded on his door once again. Ky hurried to open it, wondering what she could have forgotten to tell him, only to be surprised once again by the person on the other side of his door.

Instead of Lucilla, he found Marcipor, the blind philosopher.

“Marcipor?” Ky said, surprised.

“I hope I am not disturbing you, Consul.”

“Not at all. What can I do for you?”

“I was hoping for some time to talk with you.”

“Please come in,” Ky said, stepping aside.

The old man reached out, putting a hand on Ky’s arm after a few attempts to make contact. Ky helped guide him into the room, to one of the chairs at the table he’d been preparing to work at. While Ky didn’t have time for another interruption, Marcipor was an important man that Ky couldn’t afford to offend. Besides being the former tutor of the Emperor and current tutor of Lucilla, he was recognized across the empire as one of its greatest minds. Even the Emperor’s detractors were forced to acknowledge points made by the philosopher.

If Ky could get Marcipor to publicly support the changes he was proposing, it would go a long way to smoothing the transition of Rome from a classical civilization into an industrial one.

“What did you want to talk about?” Ky asked once they were both seated.

“I wanted to talk to you about your declaration to end slavery in the republic. The reasoning you gave at the meeting a few days ago was purely economic, but I felt like there was more to it that you weren’t saying.”

Ky considered the philosopher for a moment. This was one of those points where, if he chose right, he could swing things in his favor enough to make his plans truly feasible, but if he guessed wrong, he would ruin everything. Ky had never been trained to judge others and truly get a sense of who they were, behind the mask everyone wears. Marcipor’s mask was harder to decipher than most, his face affable but completely unreadable.

“There is, but I’m not sure I can explain it in a way that will not seem fantastical.”

“Forgive me Consul, but the general opinion of you is that you fell from the heavens, dispatched by the gods themselves to enact an ancient prophecy and rebalance the entire political makeup of the known world. I can’t imagine there is anything much more fantastical than that.”

“Then I’m afraid your imagination doesn’t go far enough, but I will try. Where I come from slavery is considered anathema to everything we believe. Don’t get me wrong, there are still very different classes of society and people of some classes have limits, both actual and structural, put on their choices, but the people are still free to choose their own lives. They do their work the way they want to do, they live in the places they want to live, and they are not required to live by anyone else’s say-so, outside of obeying the laws of the society. The idea of one man owning another is completely foreign to me.”

“I thought it might be something like that, and yet you admit that there are limits placed on some lower classes of people, where you come from.”

“That’s true, but it’s not the same, and I think you know that. You have free men here who have similar limits on their choices, either because of money or allegiances, but you’d agree they weren’t slaves. Where I’m from, it’s the same. It is an old society, but it’s carried a single governing principle for more than a thousand years from my ancestor’s furthest ancestors. It is the belief that all men are created equal and that they have inalienable rights. That is the founding principle of everything the society is built on.”

Marcipor studied Ky over peaked fingers for several minutes in silence. Ky waited patiently, returning his sightless stare.

“I will agree that it is very different from how we live. How did your people come to that?”

“I’m not a historian, so I don’t have many of the details. I know that the civilization was built on the ashes of several smaller societies that merged together, and that was the founding principle of one of those civilizations. Somehow, it managed to retain its place of primacy even as these different cultures merged together and became something new. Again, I’m not a historian, so I can’t explain the specifics.”

“You talk about some great and ancient civilization. Where was this? I know you’ve repeatedly denied being sent from the heavens, but you make it sound as if it was a people older than the Egyptians, before they were conquered, of course. If an ancient civilization existed, I’m certain we would have heard of it by now.”

“This is the part that will seem fantastical.”

“Commander, it is not advisable to explain the details of your origin to the Romans at this time. Models show a high chance of a negative reaction that will put your future in jeopardy.”

“I know,” Ky subvocalized, “but I think if we can get a few people to see what the end goal is, we will have a better chance of success. I’m already stretched too thin. I can’t do this alone.”

To Marcipor, Ky said, “I come from here, actually, but a very different version of here. My people were working on a machine that would allow us to travel between the stars you see in the sky. I was the person testing the machine, and something went wrong. I found myself thousands of years in my past, but a past that did not match the history as we knew it. Things had changed.”

“That is … hard to believe.”

“Any harder than believing the gods sent me to Earth?”

“Yes. We know from the Greeks that the world we live on sits in a dark sphere, and the stars are breaks in the sphere that allow the light of the heavens to shine through.”

“That is … not accurate.”

“I know much of the Greek’s reasoning. It was very compelling.”

“I’m sure that they did their best using their observations of the world, but I can tell you it isn’t right. I was born in a special type of palace that floated in the sky, high about the Earth. I have traveled to the moon, where my people also had homes.”

“How did you breathe? We know that, on the highest mountains, it becomes hard to breathe, to keep you from ascending to the heavens. If you were that high, how did you breathe?”

“We had ways of making our own air from the elements around us, breaking them apart and recombining them into the air that we could breathe. Our homes were completely sealed to keep this air in, and we had to be careful not to let the air out of our homes.”

Marcipor was quite for a long time after that, staring off into the middle distance.

“We must seem like ants to you.”

“No, you seem like people. Maybe with simpler machines, but people all the same. When you see someone from a simple tribe, the Picts for example, do you see them as ants?”

“We don’t see them as equal.”

“I know, and that is an attitude that I also hope to one day change. People are capable of so much if given the right tools. The luck of where you are born does not make one person more capable than another.”

“For most of my countrymen, that will be harder to believe than your palace in the sky.”

“I know, but let me ask you this. I come from a people much further advanced than you are to cave dwellers, yet do I treat you as somehow lesser than me?”

“No, but that is why people will continue to believe you were sent by the gods. It allows them to accept your abilities without the need to look at their own world view.”

“I realize the tallest hurdle I will face is people’s own prejudices towards others. That is something that, even in my time, we have not eliminated. If we are going to make this work, though, we’re going to need some of those other civilizations to join with Rome. You’re too small to stand on your own.”

“There are those with a lot of money and power invested in being on top of others. They think power comes from the end of the whip.”

“In my history and your future, there were civilizations that lived like that. They built large armies out of slave soldiers. Those civilizations all eventually fell under their own weight.”

“You will still be fighting an uphill battle.”

“I don’t hold any illusions that this will be easy, but it’s necessary. You can’t transition to the next stage of civilization on brute manpower alone. Your workforce will need to have a higher base level of education and some ability to make decisions to cross that threshold. You will not be able to compete with the Carthaginians on sheer manpower.”

“Well, I appreciate your time Consul,” Marcipor said, standing. “I would like to come and talk to you more, if possible. The way you think is so different I find it … refreshing.”

“You’re always welcome,” Ky said, standing and walking the Roman to the door.

While he hoped his conversation with Marcipor bore fruit, he was glad to get back to working on all the details that needed to be taken care of projects that had either started or needed to start soon.

The sun had started to go down when he was interrupted again. He found Lucilla at his door again, this time in a dark blue stola instead of the usual knee-length tunic she, and most Romans, wore during the working day.

“Should I be dressed in some specific way?” Ky asked.

He was still wearing his flight suit. He’d taken it off a few times to bath himself but otherwise hadn’t bothered to change since he arrived. The suit was self-cleaning and self-repairing, at least from minor holes and cuts. It couldn’t repair major damage to itself. Before this moment, it hadn’t occurred to him that perhaps he should be dressing in some sort of formal Roman attire if only to make the Romans more comfortable.

“No. Everyone has gotten used to how you look, and the normal rules of what is appropriate don’t apply to you.”

“There are rules for how people dress to attend the play?”

“Ohh, yes. The Ludi Scaenici are important social moments to see and be seen. You’ll see most people there will have brought out their good togas. There was a time when we still lived in the homeland, where apparently people wore togas all the time, but now it’s just for ceremonial moments like this.”

They left the palace, Ky following Lucilla’s lead, since he hadn’t been to the amphitheater yet. His lictores followed a short distance behind the pair. The streets were still crowded, but people moved out of their way without much trouble. Ky didn’t know if it was because he was with the Emperor’s daughter or because he was still an unusual sight, towering above the average Roman in his flight suit.

“Did you watch many plays … before? Do they have plays where you came from?”

“We have something like it, where performers act out stories for an audience, but we had a way of saving the performance so that people could watch them later.”

“You could save the performance?”

“I’m not sure I’ll be able to explain this,” Ky said, thinking as they walked. “We could make something like a painting, but it was a perfect representation of what was happening, as in it looked exactly like it. We could do this instantly, and make the pictures so fast that when shown very fast, you could see them move. This isn’t a very good explanation of what we did, but I hope it makes sense.”

“Not really. I find it hard to believe that any picture, no matter how good, could give you the same experience of watching something happening in front of you.”

Ky looked around, searching for a secluded spot. They were near a small opening that created an alley between two buildings.

“Consul, this might not be the safest place,” one of his lictores said as he started to turn towards the alley.

“We’re only stopping for a moment. Watch the mouth of the alley, please.”

The four men with him exchanged glances, although if it was because he was doing something unsafe or if it was somehow socially unacceptable, Ky wasn’t sure.

“Stand back a step,” Ky said to Lucilla. “Just smile and wave.”

She looked confused but did as he requested.

In addition to the information overlays, extended range of vision, and imaging options pilots received, they also had the option to record things they saw to their AI for later playback. This was both for safety reasons, so technicians could reconstruct accidents and other issues during flight, as well as giving commanders the ability to access the downloads during debriefs.

Ky’s suit had some minimal holographic display abilities, again, mostly for technical uses, since mechanics did not receive AIs capable of downloading data. Extending his glove out of the sleeve of his suit and over his hand, he brought up the holographic command panel that his suit was able to project. It was a backup input system independent of his AI, allowing Ky to access functions in cases where his AI was damaged or otherwise unavailable.

Beyond the command console, it could project limited holographic images. He’d only used it to display system maps in the past when he was showing a technician a planned route, but it was capable of more complex images. It didn’t have anywhere near the photographic quality of holos used in entertainment, and anything projected was essentially only seen in hues of lighter or darker blues, making the image seem ghostly.

He brought up the recording he made of Lucilla and played it back for her. A small image of her face smiling, and her hand appearing in frame as it waved, played in his hand. Lucilla gasped and took an involuntary step backward.

“What is this?”

“That is you. I made images of what you were doing and played it back for you here. It isn’t as clear as the tools we’d use to do it if I were home, but you can see how we captured images and viewed them later.”

“It’s … magic.”

“It isn’t magic. I’ve tried to explain before, nothing I do is magic. I just have tools that allow me to do things that seem impossible to you. They are no more magic than if someone living in a cave visited your villa and saw you pump a handle and water pour out. That would seem as magical to them as this is to you. I promise you this is just a tool.”

“You can … make pictures of anything?”

“Anything I can see, yes.”

Ky turned and captured a short video of the backs of his lictores, blocking the alleyway. Turning back to Lucilla, he opened his palm again and brought up the brief playback. Lucilla gasped and took a step backward.

“It’s you.”

“It’s terrifying,” she said, touching her face while looking at the image.

“Why?”

“I look like a spirit. It’s like a vision of me haunting the world after my death.”

Ky turned off the image, concerned he’d gone too far.

“I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to scare you. I just thought I couldn’t think of a good way to describe how we watched entertainment and thought I’d show you.”

“You watched plays like this?”

“Not exactly like this. My suit can only project simple displays, that is why the image was shades of one color and transparent. It’s meant to show maps and figures, not people. The ones we used for entertainment made the people seem as real as you or me, except we couldn’t touch them.”

“I … your world must have been wondrous and terrifying.”

“Looking at it now, from my viewpoint here with you, I think so. At the time, it just seemed how things were. Imagine what one of the barbarians must think if they came and lived in a Roman town. All the amazing technology you have. You bring water from the rivers miles away into your town. You have baths that, when you pull a stopper, drains the water for you. For people living in huts, that must seem amazing. I’m sorry again for scaring you, let’s go on to the play.”

Lucilla nodded and walked with him out of the alley. As they walked, she left more distance between the two of them. Ky regretted his decision. First with Marcipor and now with her, he’d been more open than he probably should have been about the truth of his world before he crossed the bridge into the past. While things had gone smoothly with Marcipor, her reaction was probably closer to what he’d typically experience if he did something like this again.

The AI had been right. Ky would have to be more careful in the future.

Unlike the ruined images of amphitheaters the AI had shown him, this wasn’t built out of a hillside or dug into the ground. The area in this part of the British Isles, especially this close to the coast, wasn’t as hilly as those in the Aegean or Italian peninsula.

Instead, the Romans had made a smaller version of their Colosseum, only stretching two stories tall. Once inside, Ky found the seating area only went about three fourths the way around, with the stage area rose up into the second story. The AI began showing Ky images of medieval playhouses, and he had to agree this seemed closer to those than the traditional amphitheater. The Romans had apparently hit on this idea centuries early to keep their traditions but make it viable for a different landscape.

Unlike the medieval playhouses, the amphitheater had no roof, much like their Colosseum. Lanterns half-covered on one side ringed the half-circle stage area, directing their light onto the stage itself, making it visible from the seats around it. While the plays were probably easier to see in the daylight, the flickering shadows of the performers added a certain ambiance to the production.

Lucilla still didn’t speak while they watched the play, but glanced at Ky several times throughout. Ky again worried that he’d gone too far and shown her more than she’d been prepared for. The AI had warned him numerous times to be careful exposing people from this time to too much-advanced technology too fast. Ky had not taken those warnings seriously until now and hadn’t been prepared for her reaction.

The play itself was … interesting. A single man danced and gyrated around the stage, making movements at statues that seemed to represent various gods, while he changed masks. There were two groups of people on either side of the stage, that would chant whenever the dancer got close to one of the statues that represented one of the Roman gods.

The AI informed Ky that the type of performance he was watching was called a pantomime, which apparently was very popular with the Romans. Ky was thankful he had the AI, which cross-referenced what was happening on stage with its databases and explained it to Ky. He wasn’t sure he would have understood what was happening if the AI hadn’t been there to interpret it for him.

Apparently, a pantomime involved a single dancer who uses masks and the chorus to tell a story, usually mythological or historical in nature. In this case, the play seemed to be about the gods arguing over what to do on earth, as their chosen people fought against an evil foreign deity. It didn’t take a lot of knowledge to figure out that the chosen people were the Romans and the foreign deity was the god worshiped by the Carthaginians. The part that he didn’t get until the AI pointed it out, was the dancer was supposed to be Ky himself, who was being pulled between the arguments the gods were making.

It ended with the chant representing Jupiter overpowered those of the other gods. The dancer then lowered himself to the center of the stage, where a rope was lowered to him from the second-floor area above the stage. The dancer hooked the rope around himself and was hoisted into the air, arms outstretched. A series of lanterns billowing smoke was lowered to just below his feet, and then collectively, they were all lowered to the stage together. Since it was pretty clear that the story was based around the Romans’ idea that Ky was sent down from the gods as part of their prophecy, then the last part was supposed to represent Ky himself coming down to earth.

Ky couldn’t help but notice people around them constantly glance at him as the story on the stage progressed. He felt self-conscious at the Romans thinking this was somehow why Ky had come to help them or how Ky acted. It both made Ky seem like nothing more than a pawn bounced around by some kind of all-powerful set of gods and somehow a part of the decision that ended with him helping the Romans.

As the play was coming to an end, and the dancer stood in the center of the stage to bow, Ky noticed a Roman walk up and whisper with Carus. After a brief few seconds, Carus made his way over and knelt down next to Ky to speak softly.

“Lucilianus, the playwright, has asked if you could come and speak with him.”

Before Ky could answer, Lucilla grabbed his arm and said, “He did?”

The excitement in her voice was unmistakable. Considering this was the closest she had been since the alley, Ky couldn’t see how he could turn down the offer if only to win his way back into Lucilla’s good graces.

“We’d be honored,” he said.

“We should wait until it thins out a bit to go down,” Carus said, looking around at the crowd.

“Whatever you think best,” Ky said.

Carus gave him a knowing look. Ky had already ignored the lictores warning a few times when it came to their warnings for his safety. Instead of saying anything in rebuttal, he just turned to the attendant who had come to talk to them and sent him away with a message.

“What did you think of the play?” Lucilla asked while they waited.

“It was … interesting.”

“You didn’t like it?” She said, her face falling.

“No, I did. It was well performed and very dramatic in places. I have, however, been trying to convince people that I wasn’t sent by the gods.”

“I know he took some liberties with your past, but he thinks of it as a tribute to everything you’ve done.”

“Liberties? Nothing happened like his play suggested it. Not even close. It’s not like he’s ever talked to me to find out what actually happened. Plus, how did he write it and get it ready to perform so quickly, I haven’t even been here that long.”

“I know you said in your homeland you were a soldier. As someone who has lived in the public eye their whole life, let me give you some advice. People will always make up things about you and pretend to know you even though they haven’t met you. If you let it upset you, you will go insane. You have to look at something like this and be happy what they’re saying is nice. I’ve had people make plays featuring me before, and some of the comedies have been particularly cruel. If I were you, I would accept this as a positive experience, considering the alternative.”

“Maybe,” Ky said, unconvinced.

“Please just be nice to him. I enjoyed the play very much and think he’s extremely talented. I would not want to see him offended.”

“Of course. I would never want to see you unhappy, and will be on my best behavior.”

She slapped his arm and said, “You’re teasing me.”

“Not at all. I’m very serious.”

She smiled at that, the first genuine smile he’d seen all night. Before she could respond, Carus tapped him on the shoulder.

“It’s time to go, my lord.”

Ky and Lucilla followed Carus and their guide, trailed by the rest of the lictores, down towards the stage and through to a small chamber on the other side used by performers.

The area was smaller than Ky had thought it would be, especially with the various performers packing up their special togas and masks they wore during the play. Their guide led them through the crowd to a second chamber that had only two men in it.

They’d been talking animatedly until Ky, Lucilla, and their party made their way into the room. The first man, the one who’d been doing what seemed like the bulk of the speaking, shooed off the second, who bowed slightly and squeezed out past Ky’s guards.

“Ky,” Lucilla said, gesturing to the remaining man. “I’d like you to meet Lars Marius Lucilianus. Lucilianus, this is Ky.”

“Lucilla, my dear. Thank you so much for coming. Consul, I’m so happy you accepted my invitation. Did you like it?”

“I did.”

“He said the dancing was very good and that the performers were very good,” Lucilla added when Ky didn’t elaborate.

“Yes, I’m lucky to have some very talented people working with me. I hope you didn’t mind that I used your arrival as the inspiration for this little play. I wanted to give my countrymen a sense of what we’re in store for.”

“I can appreciate that, although I think they should also know nothing like that actually happened.”

“I’m sure they understand dramatic license. It’s an imagining of the path you took to come here, since of course, I don’t know what actually happened.”

“It wasn’t …”

“Ky understands. He’s focused on working with my father, not on how people see him.”

“Ohh, but I hope this helps how people see him. I hope you know the people are behind you, Consul. We saw the aftermath of the battle and heard the soldier’s stories, and we know what could have happened if you had not led our legions to victory. This is just my small tribute to everything you’ve done.”

Ky didn’t respond, not sure what to say to that. He appreciated the man’s support, but he still thought that reinforcing a divine origin would end up backfiring in the long run. Part of him wanted to set the man straight, but a greater part of him realized how much Lucilla admired the playwright and didn’t want Ky to upset him.

They spoke for a few more minutes, Ky staying mostly silent, choosing to let Lucilla do most the talking. She was animated the whole way back to the palace, talking about plays and the things she liked most about this performance or that. Ky didn’t have most of the cultural references to really understand everything she said, but he found himself pleased at her sheer joy and not wanting to do anything to dampen her enthusiasm.

Instead, he just took in everything she had to say, and just enjoyed being with her.

Chapter 20

The sun was streaming in through the slats in the window shutters of his room. Romans didn’t have glass, except for opaque glass used in mosaics, so any opening tended to have shutters that kept birds and other things from flying in while still allowing fresh air through. Having lived nearly his entire life on recycled air, Ky had never thought much about the air around him before being stranded in the far past. He found it strange the surge of positive feelings he got just from taking a deep breath of the air around him.

Of course, once out on the street, those smells weren’t always pleasing, but when not breathing in the odors of others, the smell of just the air was a strange new discovery.

A knock on the door pulled Ky from his thoughts. Stretching, he went to the door and found Carus on the other side, which was a surprise. Carus headed the evening watch and should have handed the detail over hours ago.

“Consul, if I might have a moment.”

Ky stepped aside, letting him into the room and shutting the door behind him.

“I wanted to give you an update on the men I’ve been getting in place for our information update. So far, I’ve managed to get quite a few paid informants on the books here and several of the larger towns up north, as well as trained operatives in the households of some of the more notable men here in Devnum itself.”

“What do the trained men provide that you don’t get from the paid informants? Instead of having someone go through the effort of working their way up in someone’s household or on their staff, wouldn’t it be easier to just pay off someone in one of those positions already to gather information for you?”

“No. A paid informant has some limitations and some dangers associated with them. First, there’s the danger that your offer to pay that person to inform on their masters could be relayed to your target, letting them know you’re investigating them. Paid informants are better in general positions, where you aren’t asking them to provide information on a specific person, but finding someone in a position where they might hear something useful and asking them to tell us if they hear anything. That way, there’s no one specific target to tip-off.”

“The second reason is that a trained agent does more than just watch for information that might pass in front of them. They actively look for information on their own, which requires its own set of skills, especially if you don’t want the asset caught.”

“You have some of both in place now?”

“Yes. We’ve started building a network of informers among clerks, physicians, soldiers, and so on. Our placed agents are much fewer, and most of those have not made it into positions where they will have any significant access yet. That is unfortunate, but expected since it takes time to get a man in place without making the people we are watching suspicious.”

“I understand, and I’m impressed you’ve been able to do as much as you have in such a short time.”

“A lot of these were contacts I already had, and we’ve piggy-backed off of Ramirus’s operation, at least as far as our informer network. I am getting in place some of our own, independent informers, but that’s taking more time.”

“Still, you should be commended on a job well done.”

“Thank you, although that is not why I’m here. I wanted you to understand that our network had already started to fall into place so you took my next piece of information seriously.”

“Which is?”

“We’ve started getting reports of an active conspiracy against the Emperor among some of the more wealthy members of Rome. There are even hints that some senators are involved. This isn’t limited to just Devnum, either. We believe this conspiracy extends out into several other major towns in the empire. Right now, it mostly seems to be in the form of money being moved around into known provocateurs, but we believe it goes deeper than that. There is some indication that money is going to legates as well.”

“They’re paying military commanders? For what?”

“We don’t know. We don’t even know who is being paid, nor are we positive that anyone is being paid. Right now, that part is little more than a rumor. All we do know is that large sums of money are being sent out without any indication of where that money is ending up.”

“Can we stop it? If we know the men paying for this conspiracy, shouldn’t we arrest them?”

“We think there are more wealthy men we don’t know about, yet. If we arrest those we do know about, we’ll most likely force them to be more careful in their activities. Right now, we are trying to put men in positions with those conspirators we are aware of, in hopes of being able to track their co-conspirators. For now, I believe it is best to leave everyone where they are.”

“If you think that’s best, then fine. We need to concentrate on the military commanders being paid off. A conspiracy of just wealthy men is a benign threat. If they have soldiers at their command, it becomes very real. Right now, we need every sword we can get to fight off the invasion that you and Ramirus believe is coming in the spring. The last thing we can afford is to lose some of those soldiers in a civil conflict.”

“I agree, and that is our focus right now.”

“Good. It sounds like you have everything well in hand. Let me know if we learn anything new about this conspiracy.”

“I also wanted to point out that this conspiracy seems to have been in place before your arrival and doesn’t look to be a recent addition. I don’t have proof yet, but I believe they might have been the ones behind the Emperor’s poisoning.”

“Maybe. That is, of course, important to find out; but what has happened isn’t something we can change. Better to stop unrest in the future than searching for revenge for the Emperor. If we unravel this conspiracy, all of its secrets will eventually come out anyway, won’t it?”

“Yes, Consul, and we are focusing on current threats, of course. I just thought I should let you know.”

“Thank you, Carus. You’re doing excellent work.”

Carus bowed and showed himself out. Ky had a long day ahead of himself; including the first of the conversations with senatorial blocks, and a gathering of mechanics and blacksmiths. The blacksmith meeting was particularly important, considering the need for new types of arms that Ky would be introducing.

All that was pushed from his mind as he contemplated the problem of an actual military uprising against the government. It wasn’t something that had happened in his timeline, for more than a century! He was unsure of how to deal with it, but it was something he would need to begin planning for. If the threat were real, it could mean the end of everything he was working towards.

Ky followed Carus out of the palace, where he met Taenaris, the primary senator from the imperial faction. The aged legislator arranged a gathering of senators who controlled the northern districts along the border with the Picts.

“Good morning, Consul,” Taenaris said, dipping his head slightly.

“Senator,” Ky responded.

“It has not gone unnoticed that all of your discussions recently have taken place in the imperial palace. I think it is important that we position you as a power separate from the Emperor, allowing us the leverage of his support if needed. If you are seen as just a functionary, timely words from the Emperor would have a lessened impact, since your words will have already been interpreted as coming from the Emperor.”

“If you think that’s best. I’m a soldier, not a politician, and will have to trust your sense when it comes to things like this.”

“Good. I’ve arranged for us to meet at the home of Flavius Visellius Opilio. He owns a series of mines along the border and is essentially the leader of the northern faction.”

“If we convince him, will others follow?”

“Probably. Of all of the factions, the northern districts are the least unified. The men who run that region are the furthest from Devnum and tend to be more independent-minded than senators closer to the base of imperial power. Or maybe it’s just the miner in them.”

Taenaris lead Ky through the winding streets of Devnum to an impressive Villa on the northern end of town. A slave met them at the door and took them to an open area with low resting chairs laid out roughly in a circle. A man nearly as old as Taenaris rose and greeted them as they entered the room.

“Taenaris, I was surprised to hear from the Emperor’s favorite. You had good timing. Most of my colleges were planning trips back north when your messenger reached us.”

“It wasn’t luck. You lot always head north for a final visit to your lands before the freeze sets in.”

“Do you blame us? In a month, it will be unbearable. Devnum isn’t much warmer, but this close to the sea the ground at least isn’t continually covered in ice.”

“Of course. I’d like for you to meet the Consul.”

“Ahh, the savior of Rome. We’ve heard interesting rumors about you.”

“Such as?” Ky asked.

“Such as telling the Emperor that we must change a thousand years of tradition on the governing of Rome.”

“Those aren’t rumors.”

A murmur rippled across the seated senators as Opilio’s eyebrows rose in surprise.

“This should be interesting then. Please sit and tell us why you believe Rome has been governing itself wrong all these years.”

“Don’t misunderstand me,” Ky said as he lowered himself into one of the lounging couches he still found strange. “I am not saying your traditions are bad. Rome has stood for a long time, which is a testament to the strength of the Roman system. I do believe you are on the brink, though. If something doesn’t happen soon, there will be no more Rome to follow your traditions.”

“We’ve survived this long. With your help, we defeated the Carthaginian army on the steps of this very city.”

“If I convince you of nothing else, I want you to understand that was a warning, not a victory. The Carthaginians did not believe Rome offered a significant threat, and dispatched but a portion of their forces here on Britannia to sweep you aside. That was not all of the Carthaginians on this island. It wasn’t even most of them. They were humiliated, but they won’t underestimate you a second time. They are planning to use Rome as an example for others who chose to stand against them. At this very moment, the Carthaginians are gathering strength. When the ground thaws, a horde will descend on your lands. You do not have enough soldiers to stop them if you do things as traditions suggest.”

“We have you here now, though. I’m confident that you will be able to lead our men to victory again.”

“Then you’re a fool.”

Opilio pushed himself up, his face flushing in anger.

“With the forces Rome has now, that is not possible,” Ky said, talking over whatever the Roman was planning on saying in his defense. “Even if every legion Rome has is in the field, Rome will still fall.”

“So we’re doomed, then? Why bother with any of this charade if you don’t think it will work?”

“No. I believe Rome has a chance, but it requires your entire civilization to rally to the effort. We will need every Roman if you are to survive.”

“What, you want us to all join the legions? Old men and young boys standing in the fields of battle. That is desperation.”

“Again, no. When I say we need all Romans, I mean we need all Romans to contribute to your survival. I am offering new technologies that will help give Rome enough of an edge to survive.”

“From what I heard, it goes beyond new technology,” one of the men still lounging on a couch said.

“You need to understand that new weapons and technologies don’t just mean slight improvements to the ways things are now done, or magical devices delivered from the heavens. New weapons need new types of manufacturing to create them, which in turn needs new types of metals that can stand higher stresses and not break down. That, in turn, requires new factories and new ways of assembling your weapons. We need more than any skilled artisans can produce on their own, which means new ways to use labor more efficiently, which means changing labor-intensive areas to be more efficient, in order to free up that labor. Most importantly, all of this requires new ways of financing a massive explosion in technology.”

“We can appreciate that, but there is only so much we can do. We cannot bear the weight of all these changes.”

“You won’t! More importantly, you won’t be expected to provide more to the empire without getting more in return. Some of the new things I’m offering Rome include new ways of mining metals, and new metals to mine, as well as help finding new places with rich ore deposits. Beyond that, I will be able to teach you more efficient ways of smelting down your ore to get a greater yield out of all the new ore you’re able to dig out of the ground. You will be able to produce more with a smaller workforce, meaning more money for you.”

“Which won’t mean much if you convince the Emperor to take away our slaves,” Opilio said.

“I know that seems extreme now, but hopefully, in the next year, slaves will be completely unsuitable to work for you, especially in your smelting operations.”

“What do you mean?” another man said.

“As I introduce these new technologies, they will require a more specialized workforce. Eventually, you’ll find that most of your workers will need to know their numbers and how to read to perform their basic tasks. I know that sounds absurd to you now, but it’s true. When that happens, you’re not going to want slaves involved. In the long run, forced labor might be the cheapest option, but it’s also the most inefficient. With the technology you use now, that difference isn’t much. When we get most of the new ideas I’m going to be giving you in place, one worker will be able to produce five to ten times the product they can produce now.”

“Which would mean they make us more money than multiple slaves would make us,” Opilio said. “How can we be sure? The changes we are expected to make now are drastic, with the promises in the future. If they don’t pay off, we’ve destroyed ourselves.”

“That’s true, but imagine what happens to you if you refuse to change and your competitors take the risk? Even if you get the designs and ideas of everything I’m going to teach, you still won’t be able to get your slaves to keep up with your competitor’s workers. Not unless you’re willing to educate them.”

Nearly every man in the chamber reacted viscerally to the idea of educating a slave. For every slave-owning society, one of the biggest dangers was in educating your slave population, since it nearly always led to unrest at best and often outright revolt.

“Besides, one of the benefits of taking on the new policies is that you will be allowed to receive business from the empire, while owners who chose to stick to their old ways will not. We won’t interfere with your private business, but consider how much the army and new municipal services the empire will be starting will need. True, you will be footing some of that bill in the form of new taxes, but you will also be getting a lot of those taxes back. Rearming the legions and arming the new legions we will need, requires a lot of iron.”

Taenaris had advised that the best way to talk to these men was through their pocketbooks. They weren’t ideologues. Their only real allegiance was to their own pockets. If they saw value in making changes, then they would support them.

“All I ask is that you consider this when hearing out the new laws that will begin coming before the senate. If you are unsure or worried about what you’re hearing, come ask me. I will try and explain why we’re making the argument we are making, and how it will benefit you. I know at first you have no real reason to trust me. Hopefully, you will see in the coming months that I stand by what I’m saying. Lying to you might win me the support of one bill, but it will lose me your future support. The changes we really need will take years to fully enact. Because one day, we won’t be fighting to hold onto Britannia. One day we will expand beyond that, reconquering Rome’s ancient lands and, eventually, taking the fight to the doors of Carthage itself. For that to happen, I need you to support me tomorrow, next week, and next year.”

“If we agree to take on the new technology, what would we be expected to do in return, other than vote on new laws?” Opilio asked.

“Very little. We would expect you to negotiate fairly on new government contracts for the new metals we will be ordering. We will also ask that you allow a clerk, supplied by the Emperor, to work with you at your forges.”

“Why? Do you think we need some kind of minder ensuring our loyalty?”

“Not at all. Beyond the actual technology, we will be introducing efficiencies in the way money is tracked and a new numbering system that will seem strange at first, but you’ll see how much easier it makes life, once it’s implemented.”

“I think you will find many of us will be skeptical of having someone under the Emperor’s employ in our foundries.”

“I can understand that. I believe, once you hear some of the things we are proposing, you’ll agree to take the risk.”

“We’ll see. Before we get to that, however, there is one thing we need you to agree to as well. It will go a long way to convincing me and my competitors that you are serious in your commitment to work with us.”

“What is that?”

“Even with the legions on the borders, we are continually harassed by the Northmen. We are raided, our men are slaughtered, and our facilities are ruined. The legates are satisfied with sitting in their camps and marching out only at the sign of large engagements. It may keep us from losing the territories, but it does nothing to stop the raids. We need you to come north and see if you can help stabilize the situation.”

Ky stopped to consider it. He had so much to do to get Rome ready to fight. New technologies to oversee, new training for the armies, and new laws that had to be passed. A trip north would take weeks at a minimum.

However, the Picts were a problem that needed to be addressed. Beyond the impact on mining operations, something that would become very important soon, it also occupied significant numbers of Roman forces. In the coming battle, he’d need every trained man Rome had, and having entire legions standing guard in the north while the Carthaginians marched from the south did him no good. He had to find a way to free up those men, leaving behind a token force to keep the peace.

“I can do that. It won’t be immediately. I still have to set a lot of things in motion here. New technologies sound wonderful, but Romans have to be the ones to actually produce everything, which will take time. I need to get those processes started before I disappear for several weeks to deal with the Picts.”

“We understand that, and we will be patient. Do not take too long, however. Our patience, and ultimately our support, will not last forever. Now tell us about these new technologies.”

It was well into the afternoon by the time he and Taenaris left the senators from the northern district faction. After Ky’s agreeing to go north, the assembled men became much more engaged.

Three of the gathered senators refused to even consider the new taxes or accepting a clerk provided by the Emperor. They stormed out of the meeting, unwilling to entertain either Ky’s or Taenaris’s arguments why the deal would be suitable for them in the long run. Ky had expected some of the assembled men to balk at their demands, but it worked out better than he had hoped. The men who had walked out owned some of the smaller concerns. All of the large mines and foundry owners stayed, which meant that if they could switch over to the new technologies, Rome would have the material it needed to arm its legions.

The bulk of the afternoon was taken up by describing the new foundries they would need to create to make higher-quality steel.

Ky had spent hours with the AI trying to figure out the best level of technology to introduce. Any of the steelmaking processes after the nineteenth century were out, since they would require the creation and rapid advancement of a chemical processing industry to create the additive chemicals used in twentieth-century and later steel making. The problem was, he needed steel basically as good as available during the industrial revolution, since it had the material strength to be used in more advanced machining. What they’d settled on was a series of steps up until they reached the new technologies, skipping most of the intermediate steps taken during the original invention of more modern steelmaking processes.

Step one was to move away from using bloomeries and instead have the Romans create blast furnaces. Ky would skip past the use of charcoal for heating the blast furnaces and instead have the furnaces powered by coke made from coal; which was both plentiful on the British Isles, and allowed for skipping the process of cutting down and burning trees.

The end result would produce a better quality iron, which would produce slightly better quality steel when worked by the blacksmiths. At a later point, Ky would take the Romans to step two, and introduce the Bessemer process, which would allow them to begin mass producing steel.

It wouldn’t help with their current situation, but by the time they were ready to take the fight to the Carthaginians, Ky hoped they would have the industrial base needed to produce large quantities of good quality steel.

It was agreed that two of the largest foundries would begin altering their overall layout and each construct a blast furnace. Ky promised them loans from the Emperor to help offset the costs of construction, and promised them documents and diagrams, along with a clerk trained in the new numbers, to help interpret the calculations they would need.

Taenaris turned to head back to his villa, back towards the imperial complex. He’d been a big help in explaining the intricacies of how some of the new laws might work. While Ky had told them what he needed, even with the help of the AI, he wasn’t knowledgeable enough to help in the actual construction of Roman laws. The process had become even more Byzantine than the records showed as being possible, thanks to the changes in how the Emperor functioned in this reality. He had to leave it to the Emperor’s functionaries and their allied senators to do the actual work of writing laws that would ultimately complete what Ky needed done.

Taenaris, even with his drive and stoic personality, had started to flag by the time they left the senators. He was an old man and needed his rest before returning to the senate tomorrow to continue drafting the necessary legislation.

Ky’s next stop was a meeting arranged by Hortensius with the largest blacksmiths in Devnum. They had agreed to meet at Hortensius’s forge, which was the largest of Rome’s forges, and was closer to a factory than what some might think of as a blacksmiths forge.

Unlike his previous meeting with the senators, this was much less contentious, since he was essentially sharing information with the smiths, which would make them more money, rather than demanding concessions. They started by giving him a tour of the building, which consisted mostly of stations where workers would create blades or plows or whatever was ordered from bar stock delivered from the foundries up north.

The bar stock was essentially pure mined metal, smelted down to remove most of the impurities out of it. The blacksmiths would take that bar stock, cold hammer it until it became low-carbon steel, which they would then grind into sharpness, before slotting it into wooden handles they bought from the carpentry mills located along the river north of town.

While they could produce an impressive number of blades, it was incredibly inefficient and the quality of the metal itself required frequent sharpening and maintenance.

“I have to say, I’m impressed by the operation you have here. It is significantly larger than I thought possible.”

“This is the largest one in Devnum, Consul,” Hortensius said. “There are many other forges in the city, some as small as a single smith. We handle larger contracts such as military supplies and government contracts, while they primarily focus on requests by individual citizens.”

“Many of the new technologies I’m going to be explaining will be able to be produced and worked in larger factories, using a process I’m going to teach you called ‘an assembly line.' That requires a large facility like this to be practical, which unfortunately leaves out the smaller, independent smiths. We will be able to give them plans for some of the new consumer products using cast iron, one of the two new materials you’ll be able to receive from the foundries up north. I’ll need help giving the designs to them, however.”

“We can help with that,” Hortensius said. “You mentioned changing our forges to use something called assembly line?”

“Yes. That will be one of the biggest things to help your productivity. Right now, you have one man do all steps of making a product. There are limitations for how you can change that now, since one man has to pound a bar of metal out into a useable shape, sharpen it, polish it, and get it seated in its handle. With the assembly line process, we would change that so each station will only do one thing. The men who pound the blades into shape would do only that. They would then send the blades to a worker who seats the blades in a handle. Once the blades are shaped and in the handle, they would hand them down to another man, who only does finishing shaping. Then the next man sharpens the blade. Finally, it goes to a worker who polishes and finishes the sword before putting it in a crate to be delivered to the buyer. The workers wouldn’t be one for one. You might have five men turning the metal you receive from the foundries into shaped blades for everyone that is sharpening, depending on how many weapons a man can make in an hour. By limiting the process to one action, each step will become more efficient. We’ll be able to make this more so once we start getting better metal from the foundries and can introduce powered machinery to increase the speed of some of the steps.”

“It seems a strange way to do things, having one man do only a partial step,” one of the assembled men said. “Each man is a craftsman. If you break it down into simpler steps, you lose some of that skill.”

“That’s actually the goal. How long does it take to apprentice a new smith, and train them in the art of making swords, and plows, and horseshoes? How much faster would it be to take a new worker and train him on just one step of the process? If they repeated that step over and over, how much better will they get at it? This isn’t the only reason for the assembly line. For now, the things being made are simple, without many moving parts. Eventually, as new weapons and tools are introduced, you’ll need to make more complex machinery. For that, you’ll need to work making parts that are exactly the same, every time; so that any part from one machine will fit in as a replacement in another machine, allowing them to be put together and later repaired easily. That system will increase the efficiency of the process even more, but we aren’t there, yet.”

“I think I can see how it will be helpful,” Hortensius said. “I will offer to change my forge here to your new design.”

“It won’t be all for one thing. You’ll have to set up different ‘lines.’ Basically, you’ll have one section working on swords, handing the piece down to the next part of their line for that product. There will be other lines that will work on other things, some of which I will be giving you designs for today. I have a new weapon. It’s an improvement on the arcuballista Rome already has. It will make them both much more powerful and easier to use, with greater range than your current arcuballistæ. The body of these will be made in the lumber yards, and I will be talking to them soon about more efficient ways of producing items. You will have to set up a production line creating specific metal parts for these weapons. In addition, you’ll also have to set up a line to produce some domestic items I will show you how to make, including new tools for farming, such as a heavier plow than you currently make.”

“I am assuming each of these would be worked on by one set of workers who will become experts at making that single item?”

“Correct. You will only have to train your workers on one thing, making it easier for them to become expert at it.”

“So we’ll have no more need for true craftsmen anymore?”

“No! Skilled workers who see it as an art will always have a place. There will still be those who want items that are more than just functional. The assembly line process will take most of the individuality out of your product, since the point of it is to be as efficient as possible, to increase the amount of product you can make.”

“I’ve been working with iron since I was a child,” one of the men said. “The one thing I know for sure is no two items are the same. Not just between one smith and another, but even for just myself. If I were to make just blades, they would be different. Even the best smith I’ve ever met had differences. They were small, but they were there. A slightly wider blade, a little bit longer base, it all changed.

“That’s going to be an even bigger change than going to the assembly line process. I’m going to work with one of you to create a set of measurements. You will be able to see the exact measurements, so you can check them to make sure they are right. We can then use those to keep everything the same. You can put your item against the assigned measurement and see if it matches, or if it’s too long or too wide. Ultimately, everyone will work off these measurements, not just smiths, so we all have exact comparisons when talking about something.”

“This is a lot to change,” the same man said.

“I know. It’s going to be a lot, and it’s going to require a lot of trust on your part. You’re going to have to change over your entire forge to the new process, and that will be troubling for most of you.”

“‘Troubling’ isn’t the word for it. If it doesn’t work, you will have put us out of business. We’ll have to go to all the expense to change our shops only to have to change them back, and we won’t be able to take any commissions that whole time.”

“I’ll do it,” Hortensius said.

“It will be expensive. If this doesn’t work, this could end with you and your family being sold to cover debts.”

“I know, but if it does work, I’ll be ahead of everyone else. I’ll be able to produce all the new items the Consul will be showing us, as well as becoming the go-to source for the empire for all the new weapons we’ll need. The only way to really succeed is by taking risks. When my father set up our first forge, he took the same risk, and it paid off.”

A few of the assembled men looked to be considering Hortensius’s words carefully, and Ky thought they might sign up to take the same risk. As with the miners, he didn’t need all of them. When the Hortensius and the others who joined him started showing results, they would all come around. The hard part was getting the first ones to take the leap.

In the end, three other large forge owners agreed to stay and go through the specifics of what needed to be done. Ky walked them through Hortensius forge, showing the layout they’d need to set up and how it would work. He then handed out the designs he’d written down for the crossbow parts and new plow. The plow would be something hopefully some of the larger farms would be coming to ask about, once he met with them, but the crossbow parts were easier. He agreed to large purchases of them, as long as the parts met the exact specifications.

By the time they finished, Hortensius was worked up. Of all of the people he’d spoken to so far, Hortensius seemed to have the ability to look ahead and see the possibilities. While many of these new processes were far outside of their understanding, Hortensius seemed to see the potential, which was probably why he was the richest man in Devnum.

Chapter 21

The next day, Ky was up early again, consulting with the Emperor who had thoughts about the planned meetings with the disenfranchised senators and the senators who represented Devnum itself, backed by the city’s merchants.

“If they have lost their lands, then do they still hold any power in the senate?”

“Yes, although less than they did when we still controlled the lands their families owned. Our traditionalism is one of our more defining traits and it would take more than just losing their land to the Carthaginians to lose their vote in the Senate. Besides, stripping them of their place in the Senate would be admitting that we will probably never get that territory back, which no one in the Senate wants to publicly say. So yes, they have a vote, if not the power to push legislation on their own. They are normally ignored by the rest of the Senate, but for what you want, we will need their votes to get over the large block of traditionalists.”

“I see. It’s such a strange idea though, the …”

Ky was interrupted by the appearance of a guard in the audience chamber.

“Yes?” the Emperor said.

“Emperor, your son is here, accompanied by the senators Marcus Umbrenius Silo, Publius Lusius Mutilus, and Paulus Palpellius Mercurialis.”

The Emperor’s shoulders visibly drooped as he squeezed the bridge of his nose, a sigh of frustration setting it.

“Show them in,” he said to the guard before turning to Ky. Softly, he said, “I wish I could just send them away. These will be our strongest opponents in the Senate and will lead the opposition to everything we are planning.”

Four men strode into the audience chamber. Ky couldn’t help but noticed that none bowed before the Emperor, something he’d seen every other Roman presented to him do. He still didn’t know enough about Roman etiquette, but he’d guess that it was an intended slight on the aged ruler.

“Father,” Caesius said. “We continue to hear rumors of what you and this … man are planning, and we are here to tell you we will not allow it.”

“Funny. I don’t remember you being part of the Senate, Caesius.”

“He is a trusted adviser,” one of the men said. “I, however, am a member of the Senate and the princeps senatus, and I agree with Caesius. Once the people find out you are planning on changing everything that makes us Roman, they will not stand for it. We are here to give you one warning. If you do not back down from these changes, especially the ridiculous notion that Rome will free all of its slaves, the people will hear about it. You will have the mob at your door, demanding your abdication as Emperor.”

“That sounds an awful lot like a threat, Silo.”

“It is simply my judgment as what is most likely to happen. Rome has stood as an institution for hundreds of years. We have survived being expelled from our homelands. We have survived the Carthaginians pushing us off of the continent. We will not give away what makes us Romans.”

“The Carthaginians defeated you when you were far stronger than you are now,” Ky said. “They clearly intend to finish the job. What makes you think you can withstand them now, when you couldn’t defend against them while you controlled the resources of half the known world?”

“You are an outsider, and don’t know what it is to be Roman. I have even heard whispers that you were, perhaps, sent by the Carthaginians to weaken us. You play at being a messenger of the gods, defiling our beliefs. For you to stand as Rome’s Consul is an affront to every Roman.”

“I am an outsider, but I have eyes. It was only through trickery and luck that we survived the last army that the Carthaginian’s sent, losing more than a legion’s worth of soldiers doing it. You must have seen the intelligence reports. That was far from the largest army the Carthaginians will send against you. When they come again, and they are coming, you will not be able to stop them. Rome will be gone, and you will all be dead. There is a chance we can face them and survive, but it requires Rome to become something greater than it is right now.”

“Imperator,” Silo said, ignoring Ky. “I give you this last warning. We will not stand idly by while you allow this man to destroy us.”

“You overstep yourself, Silo. I am still Emperor. The Senate has regained much of its power since my ancestor established the empire, but it does not control Rome itself. I have heard you and my son’s opinion on the subject, and I think you are wrong. Ky is the only reason Devnum still stands, and the people know that.”

“Senator,” Ky said. “I know this is a difficult time, and it is hard to change, but please look at the situation around you. You have to see that Rome is on the precipice of falling into the wastes of history, a footnote of the Carthaginian hegemony. You must adapt or die.”

Ky’s words didn’t help. If anything, it hardened the man more, as he stared daggers at Ky. Finally, he broke his gaze to look back at the Emperor.

“Last warning,” he said, before turning and storming out of the room, followed by Caesius and the rest.

“That could have gone better,” Ky said.

“I don’t think so. No words will ever bring him and the like around. They would rather see Rome burn than lose an ounce of their power. He’s afraid, and fear drives men to act like wild animals, biting the hand that feeds them.”

“What will they do?”

“Try and stir up the people against us. When he said the mob would take to the street, he was serious. That is how they have pushed past Emperors into bending to the Senate’s will, giving over much of the power that Germanicus took when forming the new Rome here on Britannica. He will have agents out on the streets, preaching the evils of new, foreign ideas.”

“You don’t seem worried about that?”

“I am, but only to a degree. Ramirus keeps agents throughout Devnum specifically to keep us in tune with the passions of the mob. Silo is discounting the sheer volume of your popularity. The people of Rome love you. They see you as the savior of Devnum, and your performance in the Arena convinced them that you are indeed sent by the gods. He has made a mistake, pitting you as the evil that has infected Rome. I think the mob will not be as receptive to his propaganda as he thinks it will.”

“Let’s hope you’re right.”

It spoke volumes about the lower power levels of the disenfranchised senators that, unlike the men from the Northern districts, Ky did not have to travel to them. A small gathering of senators arrived shortly after Silo’s grand exit.

For men who had lost their land and family legacies, they were still elaborately dressed. That either spoke well of their investments outside of their lost lands or, more likely, the ability of men in power to siphon off money if they were in a high enough position. At this level of society, where graft and corruption were built into the system, Ky wasn’t surprised. It was one of the variables he had already tried to account for in his planning.

“Thank you for coming,” The Emperor said.

“It has been some time since any of us has received an imperial audience, how could we refuse?” one of the gathered men said.

“I know things have been difficult for you since your lands were taken by the Carthaginians. The reason we asked to see you will hopefully rectify that situation.”

“Every time our votes are needed, we hear that they have plans to retake the lost lands and restore our legacies. I do not know about my peers, but I remain skeptical of those claims.”

“Have the people making you promises defeated a Carthaginian army?” The Emperor asked.

“No, which is why we all came when called.”

“That was wise of you. Ky?”

Ky stepped forward at his cue and said, “I’m sure that, as have the other Senators I’ve spoken to, you’ve heard some things about what we’ve been doing.”

“Rumors have been flying across the Empire, yes.”

“There will be a series of new proposals coming in the next several weeks. They will call for some radical changes in how Rome is governed, and we are expecting a significant amount of pushback from the more conservative elements in the Senate. We are trying to shore up votes ahead of time.”

“If even half of what I’ve heard is true, then calling your proposals ‘radical’ doesn’t do them justice. Is it true you’re planning on freeing all the slaves?”

“No, at least not entirely. There will be four bills coming. The first is the installation of something called a patent department, that tracks and approves new inventions along with who invented the patent. We will have more specifics later, but the basics of the law will allow the person who patented the invention the right to collect fees for the right to produce that invention, which the person paying the licensing fee can then sell the invention.”

A different man spoke up, saying, “I’ve heard you were having meetings all over Devnum, talking to people about new ideas and technologies they can use to improve their business. Wouldn’t you stand to make a fortune from this law? You will fit in quite well with the others asking for our support.”

The sarcasm in the last sentence was almost palatable, and Ky did not doubt that most the other senators who came to these men for support did so to personally gain. From what Ky had seen, both in conversation with senators already and in the historical records shown to him by the AI, this seemed to be the norm in Roman society.

“While, for at least a long period, I will be providing a large number of new patents, I will not be profiting off of them. Any new technology I introduce will be signed over to the empire, with the empire receiving any of the royalties from those patents. One of this law’s goals is to generate the funds needed for a large expansion of the military, so Rome stands a chance against the Carthaginians.”

“Why not simply levy a new tax, instead of creating some complex new system.”

“A tax on everyone would be burdensome, especially as Rome is pushed into smaller and smaller territory. Many barely stay afloat as it is, and a new tax could lead to more Romans in poverty, which is the opposite of what I am trying to achieve. Nearly all of the new technology I am introducing will greatly increase the efficiency of the areas it touches, allowing those who adopt the changes to produce more for less. This system will keep the burden limited to those who benefit from the new technologies. Aside from that, my hope is that it will spur Roman inventors to look at what I introduce and find new and better ways of doing things on their own, launching a new technology revolution. Since you will never be able to match the Carthaginians in raw numbers of men available, the only chance Rome has is through better weapons.”

“That’s all fine. Even if you were to profit off these new laws, it is not the issue we’ve heard about that will cause the most problems.”

“No, I’m certain it isn’t. If I had to guess, I’d say it was the two proposed laws dealing with Rome’s slave population.”

“You said you weren’t freeing the slaves?”

“What I said was that it wasn’t entirely true. I should be fair, while we are not proposing freeing all of Rome’s slaves directly, we are going to greatly affect how Rome deals with its indentured population. I will say that, if it were just me, I would be pushing for the complete freeing of Rome’s slave population. The very idea of something like this is anathema in my homeland, and it stains your civilization to its very core. I have, however, been convinced by the Emperor and his advisors that outright freeing the entire population would lead to wide-scale destabilization, which is the exact opposite of what I’m trying to achieve.”

“So, what are these laws?”

“The first allows any slave to join the legions, where they will be paid, treated the same as other citizens, and offered their freedom at the end of a ten-year enlistment.”

“What about their owners?”

“For slaves held before the law is passed, their owners will be given a reduction in taxes for the term of their slave’s service, as well as the knowledge that they are contributing to their homes not burning under the heel of the Carthaginian hegemony.”

“You’re going to train slaves to fight? No Roman in their right mind will support training slaves to rise up against us.”

“Once they join the legions, they will no longer be slaves. After ten years of service, they will be free citizens, hopefully with an appreciation of the value of being Roman.”

“You want us to vote for this?”

“Yes, as well as the second provision, the stick, if you will. Any Roman whose slaves, either new ones taken in or ones not sent to the army, including women and children, will be subject to a new slave tax on any person they continue to own. That money will then go towards funding and expanding the legions, their new equipment, and a pension system that is in the third law.”

“What about criminals and debtors? If they are not sent to slavery, then how will we preserve order?”

“First, debtors being made into slaves should not be happening at all. I have numerous reports of unethical practices to load a citizen up with debt for the sole purpose of being allowed to take those people as slaves. There can be other remedies for debt, but this should not and will not be one of them. For criminals, the law will put into effect a system where they are incarcerated by the state and loaned out to the businesses in need of hard labor, for a fee. That money will help pay for feeding and maintaining prisoners not currently in a labor detail.”

“It still seems like a far stretch to most of us. You can’t upend the entire system of doing things that we’ve lived under for hundreds of years, especially not when you need to build an army at the same time.”

“The changes coming will upend Rome no matter what. You are not the first to argue that slaves are indispensable to Rome’s future, so I will tell you what I told them. Once they’re all in place, the technology I am introducing will increase the efficiency of every aspect of Rome beyond your imagination. It will take time, but in the years to come you will be able to move multiple shiploads of goods from one end of Britannia to the other in a single day. A single farm will grow magnitudes more crops than they currently can, and lands previously unfarmable will become usable. I am not just offering military technology I am going to bring Rome into a new age. This new technology comes with a price. Most aspects of life will become more complicated. For starters, nearly everyone in the workforce will need to know how to read if they are able to operate the equipment needed to produce these new inventions. They will need to understand numbers and some basic principles of science. These are not things a Roman would want to train a slave to do, since it increases the chance of an uprising. You will need to hire citizens to do the jobs. The upside is that even with paying a citizen to do the tasks needed, everyone will be able to make more money, as goods will be easier, faster, and cheaper to produce.”

“What if you don’t live up to your promises.”

“This is the other thing that everyone I have met with has asked. If I fail in my promises, then come the Spring a Carthaginian army will march over Devnum and sow the land with salt. At which point, my promises will matter very little.”

The men thought on that for a long while until their leader spoke up again.

“You said there were four primary laws you wanted to introduce.”

“The fourth has to do with the military. Your current structure will not work for what we have coming. Armies cannot be private fiefdoms of their legates. The law will create a standing army, answerable to the Senate and the Emperor. Instead of handing out land grants to soldiers at the end of a campaign, they will be paid a pension based on the number of years they serve and their ending rank. The previous system of land grants forced a constant conquering of new lands for soldiers to settle, creating more enemies and stretched out borders you were unable to maintain. Soldiers will no longer be paid at the largess of their commander, but by the empire itself, which means their loyalty will be to the empire, and not their paymaster.”

“While I can see some of the current legates having issues with that, it isn’t something that will bother most senators. More than once a popular legate tried to subvert the Republic to their own command.”

“I would argue one did just that,” one of the other men said.

“Only out of necessity,” Ky said. “The Republic was already crushed by the time that happened.”

“Emperor,” their leader said, turning to Germanicus. “You have been quiet through these proceedings.”

“Only because Ky has my complete faith and trust.”

“That speaks … volumes.”

“As it should. I have spent long hours in conversation with our savior, and I have learned that he has many things to teach us, if we are only willing to listen.”

“Tell me truthfully,” the man said, turning back to Ky once more. “Can you get our lands back?”

“Yes. It won’t be easy, and it will require sacrifice from all of Rome, but we will take back all of Britannia.”

“This might be a first. I actually believe you. Give us some time to confer among ourselves. We will have an answer for you within the day.”

“Thank you,” Ky said, slightly inclining his head in a nod.

The Emperor and Ky spoke for a while after the senators left, discussing further strategy. Ky had written out more notes that he wanted Lurio and Taenaris to look at, discussing additional ideas he was recommending for the new structure of the legions.

Some of it would go into the law he was suggesting, which solely dealt with the legions’ funding, both while they were active and the veterans. Ky wanted to build in incentives for more men to become career soldiers, instead of the current structure, which leaned to soldiers joining up as needed, receiving their spoils after a campaign, and going off to be farmers.

Except for some tercios and legates, very few legionaries made a lifetime career of it, and hardly any of the rank and file men did. Most of the centurions were simply the best-liked of the men who signed up, leaving very little institutional memory, which Ky knew was a key to a standing army.

Beyond the financial situation, there were additional changes he had in mind for the legions. Their current structure worked for an army that could not communicate at distances, where each had to be an organization unto themselves, but didn’t lead well to organized movements of large groups. That might not matter now, while they fought on Britannia, but if they were going to take the fight to the Carthaginians and their overwhelming army, one of the biggest changes they needed to make was organizational. Any significant strategic moves would be hampered by such a flat chain of command.

The Emperor looked at his notes and listened to his suggestions, but made few comments. Ky didn’t know if this was because he didn’t have much to offer or he was skeptical and playing it close to the vest. Unlike with the technical changes Ky was introducing, the Emperor, who had led men in the field in his younger days, was intimately familiar with Rome’s military. Ky made a point to say that if he was going to introduce these changes, he needed to do it soon, since it would work best with the new recruits, as they came into the new environments, rather than with existing legionaries in the new noncom rolls.

A messenger interrupted their conversation as Ky was winding down.

“Imperator, the first, second and third legions have arrived from the north.”

“Finally. It has been weeks since we called them,” The Emperor said, pushing himself up from his chair. “Where are they?”

“The legions themselves are headed around the town, set to link up with the camps of the seventh and ninth legions on the plains south of Devnum. The Legates and their officers are headed here.”

“Excellent. Show the legates in as soon as they arrive, their officers can wait outside.”

The messenger bowed and left the room.

“Now things will get interesting. I must warn you Ky, these men are much like Globulus was. They are old men and set in their ways. While we need their forces, I can promise you we will have some issues with the changes you are proposing.”

“How well do you know them?”

“Well. They have been in command for years, fighting border skirmishes and trying to fend off the slow advance of the Carthaginians.”

Three men came walking into the audience chamber with purpose. Two of them fit the Emperor’s description perfectly. Old, weathered warhorses whose skin looked like leather. The third was completely different. A young man, perhaps in his thirties. He walked a step or so behind the other two, leaving Ky to guess he was the trio’s junior.

“Ky, I would like to introduce you to Secundus Tremellius Eborius, legate of the first legion, Flavius Maximus Pius, legate of the second legion, and … I’m sorry, I do not know you. Where is Catilina?”

“Emperor,” Eborius said. “Legate Catilina came down with the sweats hours after we began our march south. He succumbed to his illness two days south of the wall. This is Titus Virius Auspex, his Tribunus. As we were in a hurry to join the legions in protecting Devnum, we thought it best to allow him to take over the third legion for the time being.”

“I see. Have you been apprised of the situation here?”

Their eyes darted to Ky several times as they spoke, no doubt taking in the strange clothes he was wearing.

“Yes. Congratulations on a battle well fought. We had hoped to arrive before the battle, since word was the force was much too large for the two legions we had at our disposal. Is it true Globulus is dead?”

“Yes, his legion was crushed at the beginning of the conflict. The remaining legion, plus the under-strength ninth legion you sent south before the Carthaginians made their move, was enough to save the city, with the help of our new Consul.”

“The messengers we have received have had much to say about this man, some of it very confusing.”

“This is Ky, our new Consul. I assure you whatever rumors you heard about the battle are true. Ky managed to lead our soldiers to a remarkable victory.”

“I saw a camp full of prisoners as we rode in,” the man called Pius said.

“That is what remains of the Carthaginian army and their camp followers. The rest were slain on the battlefield. Workers have only now managed to clear the dead from our fields.”

“Why do we have them in what looks like a permanent camp?”

“That was Ky’s suggestion. We have been very busy in the week since the battle ended. Ramirus has confirmed that the Carthaginians are already building a much larger army in Londinium, set to finish what this army failed to do. We believe they will march on us when the snows melt. With Ky’s help, we are preparing for them now.”

“We have heard of some of these things too,” Eborius said. “Much of what we have heard is very troubling.”

“I can imagine. Return to your camps and freshen up from the long march. This evening there will be a military council, where we will introduce some of these changes and discuss the plans and the building of weapons we plan over the winter. There is much to do, so I want you to return with your aides ready to help us determine how we will save Rome.”

Chapter 22

While the commanders went back to their camps to rest and prepare for the meeting that evening, Ky’s work continued. That afternoon he was meeting with the head tax collectors, who assigned tax districts to the workers who did the actual collection.

The Emperor wasn’t needed to add weight to what he said, since generally, the tax collectors were favorable to the man who appointed them to their position. Instead, he met up with Lurio, the man responsible for Roman finances. Ky headed across the imperial campus, as he was beginning to think of the complex of buildings holding the Emperor’s residence and the centers of governance for the Roman Empire, to the treasury building.

He found Lurio already there, with ten men gathered around. They all had slates where they were working on something, talking in hushed tones.

“Ky,” Lurio, said, standing and greeting him with the Roman style of forearm shake. “I have been teaching them the new numbers you showed me. I’ll say they were pretty skeptical at first, but once I walked them through what you showed me, how easy it is to add and subtract numbers and perform various functions, they were amazed. The idea of a number that stands for no value was particularly shocking, and it took some time for them to figure out its value.”

“Does anyone have any issues with them?”

“No,” one of the gathered men said. “It seemed so strange and useless when he first explained this system, but once we started using it, it’s amazing how easy this is to work with.”

“Yes. I expect it will be a big step in keeping better track of the empire’s finances. That’s the main reason I wanted to meet with you today. As of right now, you are all out of a job.”

Ky waited while the ten men erupted into shouts. He’d spent some time with the Emperor early that day strategizing how he would deal with the empire’s army of tax collectors. The biggest problem for Rome’s finances, besides the constant squeezing of taxable land by the Carthaginians, was the corruption among its civil servants. Nearly a third of every sestertius collected went into their pockets and not to the empire. As the government had weakened that corruption had only gotten worse. If Ky was going to build up and modernize the empire, he needed to fix its finance system.

“Enough!” Ky said, his voice cutting over the rest of the men. “Rome is hemorrhaging money, and much of it is finding its way into your pockets. This has to end. The old system will be no more. You might still find a way to serve the empire, and even enrich yourself, but it will be on our terms. Anyone who wants to stay and find out how their job may be earned back can stay. Anyone who is too offended at having their thievery pointed out may leave … now.”

Two of the men stormed out in a huff. Ky knew they would be problems down the road, but he needed to cut the bad apples quickly if he was going to turn the finances of Rome around in time.

“Good. All of you have your jobs back, but there are new rules. There will be no more pocketing of taxes, either through bribes paid to you to accept lower taxes or by marking owed taxes as lower and pocketing the difference, or any other scheme you can think of. We will be checking on you, and we will hang any man found to be stealing from the empire. There will be no bartering, no pardons, and no second chances.”

The assembled men all squirmed in their seats, but none spoke. Ky knew they were all guilty of lining their own pockets with tax revenues. In this time, that was almost expected and was unofficially counted as part of the collectors’ pay, making it the desired job to have. That didn’t mean that he was willing to put up with it, however.

Rome needed to transfer from being an ancient civilization, where corruption and graft were the norms, to a post-industrial revolution society where the graft wasn’t institutionalized and was generally frowned upon by the public. This would normally take a long time and be a slow process, but Ky didn’t have time to wait. That meant taking a more forceful approach.

“That is the stick, but … ” Ky paused, realizing that he had’t seen a carrot since coming to this time. A quick query of the AI’s database told him that carrots hadn’t made it to this part of the world yet, or at least not in his timeline.

“We also offer them a treat, instead,” Ky said, altering the age old adage. “I know your wages were based on a percentage of what you brought in, which created infighting over who got more lucrative territories, and sometimes the urge to cross boundaries and poach on others’ territory. We will be changing the structure of how you are paid. You will each be paid a wage from the treasury itself, with bonuses set by how close you get to collecting a hundred percent of the taxes in your area, instead of pay being based on the amount of taxes collected. Once the new patent law is passed, this will include collecting taxes on the new government patents, which means areas that were previously lucrative, such as inside Devnum itself, will become more active. The new payment structure, however, will not change the amount of taxes you collect, so this shouldn’t matter. An important addition to this is that you will be required to keep detailed records. If your agents do not turn in the proper records for a territory, you will not be paid. We will still send out someone else to check the areas unreported, and I don’t think I need to explain what happens if we find the taxes were collected, but were not reported, do I?”

He looked at each man in turn, to make sure they understood that he was serious.

“I know you have questions, so now that my threats are out of the way, we can get down to details. What questions do you have?”

Ky spent the next several hours answering their questions. The majority seemed to revolve around how they would be paid, which was only natural. Once they found out more details of the new structure, however, they relaxed. Their previous system was a cutthroat business, literally. It wasn’t uncommon to find a tax collector in the gutter with their throat slit. The hard part was figuring out who did the cutting. Sometimes it was taxpayers upset about how much they paid or trying to avoid paying their taxes and other times it was another tax collector, trying to move in on a more lucrative territory.

The new system wasn’t perfect, and there was still going to be conflict. It did, however, eliminate the need for having a better-landed region as the main way to make money. It was also based on how much of the predicted taxes were turned in, which should motivate the tax collectors to be as thorough as possible while pocketing as little as possible.

There were still going to be times when a business or person would owe more in taxes than predicted, which will lead some collectors to attempt to pocket some of that difference, since it was over what they were expected to turn into the tax office. That is why Ky made them all understand there would be random audits by clerks, verifying what taxes were paid and looking at businesses’ records. He knew they wouldn’t catch all offenders, but after the first couple were hanged, it would keep the rest of the graft to at least a tolerable minimum.

The meeting with the collectors went much longer than Ky had expected, making him the last one to make it to his next meeting. They were gathered in the Emperor’s audience hall, with stools set out for each of the men to sit on, and the Emperor upon his dais, looking down on them.

Ky was certain none of the assembled men were oblivious to the Emperor’s not too subtle message with the arrangement.

“As Velius said, the situation is dire,” the Emperor was saying when Ky walked into the room. “Ahh, our Consul is here. Ky, Legates Velius and Aelius were just giving the newly arrived Legates an update on the current situation and everything that has happened since the last message they received. Ramirus also updated us on what we currently know about Carthaginian preparations, when we think they will attack, and what their forces will be. Ky has, of course, been receiving this information as it comes in. Now that he is here and everyone is up to speed, Ky will explain the changes he is preparing to make to the legions to expand our forces quickly and prepare us for the battle ahead of us. I want to make it clear; the Consul and I have discussed these decisions in length, and he has my full support on these measures. I’m sure you gentlemen will have some issues with this proposal, but I agree with him that this might be the only chance we have to survive the conflict ahead of us. Ky?”

“Thank you, Emperor,” Ky said, moving to stand in front of the dais, diagonal from the Emperor, so he could look at the assembled commanders. “Like the Emperor said, I’m sure some of what we’ve been planning has leaked out, and hopefully I can put your concerns to rest. We’ve spent the days since the battle looking at the situation and what we can do to prepare for what the Carthaginians will be sending towards us in the spring. Even with the additions of your legions, the number one problem we see is manpower, specifically, a lack of it. Losing Globulus’s legion was a blow, but even with them, we would be woefully outnumbered by the horde the Carthaginians are preparing. We need to find a way to increase our forces, and we have to do it in an incredibly short amount of time.”

“This is where you’re going to tell us you need to bring slaves and enemy soldiers into our ranks?” Pius, Legate of the second legion, said. “Swords at our backs, ready to stab us as soon as we turn to face the Carthaginians. We don’t need them. We’ve successfully had conscriptions in the past. Your plan is suicide.”

“How have those conscripts worked for you in the past? You’ve thrown them in as fodder, to be chewed up and spat out by your enemies, to gain position, or time, or tire your enemy. None of those will work against an army this size. No position or time will stop them, and a horde that size can roll over poorly armed conscripts with little trouble. You’d have to use almost all of the local population, including slaves, to even slow them down a little bit. If you win, where would that leave Devnum or the rest of Rome?”

“We’ve talked with him about his plans, and we think they can work,” Aelius said.

“You shouldn’t even be here. Had your Legate not caught a bad break, we’d have another senior man here,” Eborius, the Legate of the first legion, said.

“Eborius,” the Emperor said in a warning tone. “Aelius acquitted himself well during the battle of Devnum and has earned the thanks of the entire empire.”

“As you say, Emperor,” Eborius said, not looking sincere in the least.

“All that aside,” Ky said, trying to get through the meeting without it devolving into useless antagonism. “We will be offering incentives to both the imprisoned soldiers and slaves to hopefully ensure their loyalty. We aren’t fools, however. We will spread them out amongst the existing legions, to make it harder to organize any kind of trouble. Every century will get at most twenty new men, a combination of local slaves and conscripted prisoners. We will have several months to train with them if we start now, hopefully getting them ready enough to be effective when standing with experienced soldiers and officers.”

“Won’t all those extra men bloat our current logistics for each of our legions?” Auspex, the Legate of the third legion, asked.

“It would if that’s all we are going to do, but we plan to do more. We will be reforming the Fifth legion and adding at least one additional legion. Those twenty men will not be in addition to your existing soldiers, they will replace twenty trained men, who will move over to the new legions, along with a larger influx of slaves and conscripted soldiers.”

The three legates exploded in protest, each yelling over the other about the stupidity of the plan.

“Enough,” Ky yelled, his voice cutting over the rest of the assembled men like a thunderclap. “I understand your concerns. You’ve trained these men and they have served with your legions for a while now. They are, however, not your personal fiefdoms. If we are going to survive the coming battle, Rome’s armies will need to change. We are going to need new men, new arms, and new tactics if we are going to survive past the spring.”

“Rome has stood for hundreds of years and our armies are the best-trained soldiers in the world. We need nothing,” Eborius said.

“Rome’s armies have been defeated in the seven hills, defeated on the plains of Iberia, defeated on the sands of Egypt, and forced onto a small island that was only one corner of its former empire. What does Rome have now that makes you better able to withstand the Carthaginians than what you had then? Meanwhile, your enemies have defeated the Gauls, defeated the Persians, and defeated the Germanic tribes. They’ve incorporated their defeated enemies into their own armies while your own forces are a shadow of their former power. How do you propose defeating their horde when you couldn’t defeat Hannibal and his armies? Speeches and declarations of the power of Rome are fine and well, but they won’t win you victories.”

Eborius shook with rage and was about to launch into another explosion when Auspex interjected, his voice calm and even.

“You said there were other changes as well. Beyond the recruiting of captive soldiers and slaves, what else do you have planned?”

Ky held Eborius’s gaze even as he began answering Auspex. Ky had thought about this moment since he’d started planning the changes to the legions. While he had the support of the people around him now, he knew the new arrivals would find all of this hard to swallow. He’d hoped he could keep the only palatable change until later, but considering Eborius’s response, he decided to go with it for now.

“I want to make it clear that I’m not saying we don’t bring in conscripts. We’re going to need every able-bodied man we can on the field.”

“I thought you said those men would be wasted? Why change your mind so quickly?” Auspex asked.

“I haven’t changed my mind and I do think that putting conscripted soldiers on the front lines to absorb the shock of the enemy’s first blow is a waste of manpower. What I’m proposing is that the conscripts be used differently, specifically as archers. The Carthaginians have always believed in a heavier weight of arrows than what our legions normally employ.”

“It takes years to train a man to be effective with the bow. It’s why we’ve always used so few archers of our own, aside from the occasional mercenary band. Now you purpose to put them in the hands of bakers and cobblers? You will put more arrows into the backs of our own men than you will the Carthaginians,” Pius said.

“With the weapons you currently use, that is true, but one of the weapons I will be introducing will be a new form of arcuballista called a crossbow.”

“Arcuballista are temperamental and do not have the weight to punch through Carthaginian shields.”

“The ones you currently have, yes. That isn’t true of the new crossbows. They will have significantly more range than what you use now with a large increase in power. The first prototypes should be ready in a few weeks, and hopefully, once you see them you will see their merit. Above everything else, though, they are easy to learn to use. We can train conscripts in batches and make them at least passably proficient in just a few weeks. They won’t be ideal, but the majority of the conscripts should get to the point where they can fire without harming the soldiers in front of them.”

“Fine, so you will be using conscripts after all. What other changes are you planning on forcing on us?” Pius asked.

“Promotion and leadership will no longer be handed out by the Legate to his favorites or men whose family wields some kind of political favor. I’ve read the records of all of Rome’s battles for the last hundred years, and while you have won some stunning victories, poor leadership has led to humiliating defeats on more than one occasion. Rome no longer has the option to throw away a victory because the wrong man was in power. From now on, promotions will be submitted by a commander to a group appointed by the Emperor, who will look at a soldier’s record and why his commander believes he should be promoted. If they agree, only then will that soldier move up in the ranks. Promotions will be based on merit and ability, not on politics.”

“Does that include legates?” Auspex asked.

“Yes. I know your concern. Right now, a legate is responsible for the bulk of outfitting his legion, either from spoils or out of his own pocket. That has ended up in a system with legions equipment solely based on the financial stability of its Legate. That also will not stand. The empire will take over the responsibility of outfitting and equipping all legions. We will have clerks who keep track of the equipment to ensure any enterprising individual doesn’t decide to make some money on the side selling the empire’s property. This also means there will be no more need to take spoils. Sacking towns that you plan on conquering and controlling is self-defeating. You are simply abusing and leaving destitute people who you want to then rule. All you’re doing is setting up future partisans, ready to overthrow you as soon as an alternative becomes available. Roman legions will no longer be allowed to sack towns and steal from civilians. Harsh penalties will be given out to any legionnaire caught abusing civilians, Roman or otherwise. Any leaders found allowing this behavior will be harshly dealt with, up to the point of arrest and execution if the infractions are widespread enough.”

“Rome was built to rule, not coddle barbarians. You would turn us into Greeks, asking the permission of those we would dominate. You say you want to make us strong enough to stand up to the Carthaginians, and then you bring out the gelding knife to turn us into geldings. You may have been sent by the gods, but they were the gods of the Carthaginians, not Roman gods.”

Eborius and Pius, the legates of the first and second legions, along with their officers, stormed out of the meeting. Ky had expected things to go badly, but he had hoped the presence of the Emperor would keep them in line. So far, at least, he had held onto Auspex and his third legion, which was something. This was beginning to look like the situation with Globulus all over again, where he’d essentially lose two full legions in the coming battle, their legates refusing to coordinate with the rest of Rome’s forces.

Ky sighed and closed his eyes.

“I understand change is hard,” he said. “It is, however, necessary. The Carthaginians are a machine that eats civilizations to survive. If it stands still for even a moment, their whole civilization will collapse under their own weight. They rule through pain and fear, crushing anyone who doesn’t submit, and bleeding dry those who do. Is that what you would want for Rome? A small Roman elite standing upon the corpses of your defeated, ruling over hordes of slaves and vassals, constantly waiting on the watch for those who would fight back? How does that end?”

He turned away from the assembled men, looking at the Roman eagle on a stand behind the Emperor.

“In my peoples’ history, we’ve seen civilizations like that. None of them last. They are all pulled down in the end. Through internal corruption when they become too large to keep the wheels of government turning. Through internal conflict as conquered people try and regain their freedom. Through endless wars as those who are about to be conquered or just fear they might join together and fight back. It always ends in blood and ruin. You fight now for your very lives against a people just like that. Would you become them?”

He turned back to the assembled men, his voice hard.

“I’m not just trying to help you survive. I want to help Rome become what it could be, and what it almost once was. You could all be an example for the rest of the world, a beacon to all other civilizations, an example of a people aware of their great trust and responsibilities. That is what I am trying to help you build. I’ll have it known now, however, that I’ll have no part of Rome becoming a new Carthage. If that is the Rome you are all determined to have, I will move on and find another civilization to live with and help.”

All of the men were silent, looking at their hands, or feet, or each other.

“I’m sure the rest of our legates understand the great charge you have given them Ky. I for one, share your vision of what Rome could be, and any man who doesn’t has no place at the head of Rome’s legions. Please, continue with your description of the changes you’ve begun putting in place. We will deal with the others later.”

Ky turned and gave a slight bow of his head to the Emperor before continuing.

“Instead of men being paid through sacks and conquered land, or through payments out of their legate’s pocket, soldiers will be paid by the empire directly. Pay will be determined by rank and standardized across all legions. Slaves handed over to the legions will receive a much smaller pay, but after ten years of service they will receive their freedom. A price will be set for the cost of the slave, and the difference between the soldiers’ earnings and what the slave is paid will be set aside until the owner is paid that full price. Any money left over will be given to the slave upon their freedom, which they can then use, along with their pension, which will be the same as any other soldier, to begin a life without the need to build up new debts. This will only apply to slaves held in bondage at the time the new law is passed, since we wouldn’t want it to somehow encourage the new taking of slaves.”

“What do we do about people taking new slaves?” Aelius asked.

“Taking of slaves, new slaves will also be outlawed. There will be a series of laws about the taking of debt and how someone can get that back, but it will be limited. I’ve looked over numerous documented cases where someone is loaned money that the lender knew would never be able to be paid off, simply to allow them to take that person to court and have them placed in debt bondage. That stops. If a lender makes the poor decision to lend money to someone unlikely to pay it back, then they simply lose that money. I know that’s more a conversation I need to have with the Senate and not military commanders, but I want to make it clear there will be laws put in place that make the taking of new slaves impossible.”

“What about men taken in combat?”

“They will have a choice. They can either be held in captivity until such time as hostilities between our peoples have ended or be allowed to join the military under similar restrictions as slaves, although they would be allowed a full soldiers wage. After ten years, they can become Roman citizens or return to their homeland. Those who chose captivity will be fed and housed by the empire in safe, sanitary conditions. I don’t want a repeat of what I saw at the current internment camp.”

“That will become expensive,” Auspex said.

“I know. They will work for the empire to make up that cost, either on civil projects or in labor battalions for the army under guard. That, of course, only lasts until they can be returned to their homeland. It’s not a permanent condition.”

Ky paused again, looking at Auspex. He could see the Legate mulling over all the changes, at least considering them. The questions he’d asked so far suggested he’d keep an open mind, at least for now.

“I know these changes are all extreme, and I can appreciate how hard this is going to be for you and your compatriots to accept. I want to make it clear I’m not suggesting these just because of the forces currently mounted against us, although some of the changes are to help face that threat. The real goal is to bring the legions up to strength and ready to go beyond the current threat. If things go right, which is a long shot, I know, I hope we will be able to push the Carthaginians off Britannica all together. For that to happen there will be more changes. I don’t want to lie to you and make you think this is all the new ideas you will have to face. Rome is a long way from being ready to face the Carthaginian hordes it will surely face once we’ve defeated this latest army. I can promise you that I am only suggesting changes that I think are necessary, and I understand the strain it will put on every Roman.”

“I hope you’re right, because there are a lot more men out there like Eborius and Pius who will fight tooth and nail to maintain their power.”

“Then that will be one more challenge we must deal with,” Ky said.

Chapter 23

Ky woke up early once again. He’d spent the remainder of the day going over specifics with the legates who’d remained at the meeting. Ky found he liked Auspex who, unlike Eborius and Pius, had an open mind and was willing to consider the value of ideas before rejecting them. He actually seemed more flexible than Velius and Aelius, who were generally more traditional and whose decision to listen to Ky had more to do with the exercise during the battle than anything else.

As he had the last few days, Ky got up early enough to walk out in the plaza at the center of the governmental complex, taking in the fresh air before he was once again locked inside a musty room, trying to convince stubborn people to do what was in their best interest.

The irony of spending his whole life on a space station and now being disgruntled about the lack of fresh air wasn’t lost on Ky. Of course, the station he lived on had very effective air filtration systems, making every room comfortable. Ancient earth with its marble construction and tiny windows, required because of the lack of workable glass for protecting larger windows, meant that any indoor room ended up being stuffy. Of course, the lack of electric lighting also meant that burning candles or torches further muddied the air.

Lost in thought, he would have been surprised by the footsteps coming towards him if the AI hadn’t pinged him, letting him know someone was approaching. Ky’s annoyance at having his morning reprieve interrupted faded immediately when he saw his visitor was Lucilla.

“Hi,” he said, half standing.

“Sit, sit,” she said, sitting down next to him. “Father said you had more meetings this morning, so I thought I might find you out here.”

“I find it soothing, sitting out here before locking myself away in dark rooms for the remainder of the day.”

“I imagine.”

They both sat quietly for a few moments, Ky was unsure what else to say. While he enjoyed her company, he found himself sometimes at a loss for words with her, not wanting to say something that might make her not want to spend more time with him.

“You look tired,” she said, breaking the silence.

“I had a late night with the Legates, or at least those who stayed for the meeting.”

“I didn’t mean just now. When we met, one of the first things I noticed about you was how unstoppable you were. After the ambush, that first night, I almost felt like giving up, but it didn’t seem to get to you. Now, back here, safe in Devnum, you seem … I don’t know, somehow diminished.”

“I’m fine.”

“Please, don’t do that. Everyone needs someone to talk to. Saying your troubles out loud helps you take the weight of them off your shoulders. You told me you weren’t sent by the gods and you’re just a normal person. If that’s true, then you need someone to talk to more than anyone. My father’s put the weight of our entire Empire on your shoulders, hoping you’ll save us from what’s coming. The weight of that must be crushing.”

“It’s not, at least not really,” Ky said, and then sighed.

Back home they had mandatory psychological counseling for pilots, and he had Sara to talk to about his concerns and his troubles. He never put much into the idea that counseling was needed, but Lucilla was right. He did feel tired. If he was being honest with himself, that was probably why he took these moments before his day started. The air wasn’t the only oppressive thing in them.

He held up his hand to stop her chastising him again for being too stoic.

“What I mean is, I’m not bothered by the faith your father has in me. It might sound conceited, but I am the only person who’ll be able to pull Rome through this. I’m not saying that because I think I’m special or somehow better than the rest of you. Hell, the way these men fought during the battle, the way they faced those odds, sure that they were going to die, I’m not sure I could ever match that. What I mean is, thanks to where I was born, I have knowledge that just isn’t available to your people. If I was honest, I’d say yes, I am tired, because I’ve seen what Rome needs to do to survive, and I’m worried we’ll fall short of that.”

“How so?”

“It’s hard to explain.”

“Try. I might not understand it, but I’ll listen to you tell me. Just saying it out loud could help.”

Ky sighed, looking at his Lictores. While he trusted his men, he still had to play his cards close to his chest. The people of this time were wildly superstitious and even his allies could take some of the things he might say wrong. Thankfully, once Lucilla sat down, they’d expanded their perimeter out, giving him the space to have a private conversation.

“There is just so much that has to be done. For all the difficulty people are having accepting the changes I’ve been proposing no one, besides maybe your father, can see what’s ahead. The changes to the military, removing slavery, the tax code, these are all just the beginning. We have so much that needs to be done before …”

“Before what?”

“Before what comes next. I know everyone’s focused on this army being readied to come for us in the spring. That’s the right thing to focus on of course, because if we don’t survive this, nothing else matters. Aside from your father and Ramirus, I’m not sure anyone thought about what comes after that. If we do manage to defeat this army, not a sure thing by any measure, what happens next? Do we really think the Carthaginians will just consolidate their losses and walk away? They’ll leave Britannica or just keep to themselves in Londinium?”

“Probably not.”

“Their empire is vast. They’ve conquered Germania. Africa. Persia. They’ve incorporated all of those peoples into their slave armies. The army we defeated at the battle, even though it outnumbered us greatly, was a drop of oil on the ocean. The army they’re preparing at Londinium is a minor force. Up until now, they’ve counted Rome as all but conquered. A non-entity. They’ve discounted our victory as a fluke or the failing of the expedition’s commander. What are they going to do once we defeat an even larger force?”

“They’ll decide Rome is a threat after all,” she said without hesitation.

That’s one of the things he liked about Lucilla. She might be from a backward society, but she was the farthest thing from stupid. She had a clever mind. Had she been born in his time, he was certain she would have gone far, almost certainly surpassing him in every way.

“Right. They’ll amass armies capable of covering the entirety of the isles. We’ve seen reports of the forces they used against the Persians, and know that was only a fraction of their strength. Every victory we have will bring larger forces down on us.”

“So it’s impossible?” She said, more baiting him than seeming to actually think that was true.

“No, at least I don’t think so. I think Rome has a chance, or I wouldn’t have thrown my future in with your people. For that to happen, though, Rome has to change. By the time Carthage gets serious about us, Rome needs to be almost to the industrial revolution level of technology.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t understand that.”

Ky realized she probably meant that literally. Looking over what he’d just said, he realized there was no proper translation for what he’d said, making it come out in his native tongue, and not the current version of Latin.

“The growth of civilizations happens in a pattern. Not always identical, not always in the same time frames, but it still holds to the pattern. We start as hunter-gatherers, living in caves. We domesticate animals and begin farming. We form communities and develop iron, until they reach the level of society that Rome currently holds.”

“Other places are doing this? Don’t they just look at what we developed, like we looked at those inventions of the Greeks, and build upon that?”

“There are other areas of the world that have no interaction with Rome. You know this. You’ve seen some of the pottery and items traded from the far side of Persia or across the plains of Asia. They didn’t always have contact with the Persians, or those nomads in Asia before they became Persians. Eventually, they came into contact with Mediterranean civilizations, like the Greeks, or had that contact forced on them when Alexander marched east, but they were already civilizations at near the same level of development when Alexander met them.”

“I guess that’s true.”

“The thing is, this isn’t the end of the pattern. I’ve shown you how far beyond yours my civilization has developed. We weren’t granted some kind of special knowledge from the gods. We went through the same pattern of development as you, but we are much further ahead in that pattern.”

“How much further ahead?”

“I’m not sure I can explain it in a way that makes sense, and it doesn’t really matter. What matters is I have a target for where I think Rome must advance, in order to make up for the massive disparity in manpower between you and the Carthaginians. We haven’t even scratched the surface of it yet.”

“You think we can get there, change that much, we’ll have a chance?”

Ky sighed and looked down at his hands, clasped in his lap.

“Yes, but getting there’s the hard part. There are so many things that have to be changed, and we haven’t even scratched the surface of it yet. Right now everything we’re focusing on is directly related to the military like funding a larger army, getting more funding, or new weapons. Long run though, we’re going to have to go way beyond that and every aspect of Rome is going to have to change. Growing food, medicine, transportation, sharing information, hell, even how we get rid of waste. Each of those alone would be a daunting task with hundreds of moving parts, but together I’m struggling to see how we’ll get it done. I can only keep my eyes on so many things at once.”

Lucilla reached out and grasped Ky’s hand between hers, meeting his eyes as he looked up at her.

“Nothing you’ve done so far has convinced me that you are a normal person just like us than right now. It’s actually refreshing to see you’re just as dumb as we are.”

“What?” Ky said, confused.

Whatever he thought she was going to say, that wasn’t it.

“You’re overthinking this. You’ve got all these wonders you want to show us and the only thing you can think to do is hold our hands through each step, teaching us as a parent teaches their smallest child.”

“In a way, that’s what I have to do.”

“It isn’t. We may be backward and ignorant, but we aren’t stupid. Look at these people,” she said, pointing at figures walking here and there across the plaza. “We can be imaginative, driven, and inquisitive. Look at your men here. We can be loyal, tenacious, and dedicated. You don’t think you can work with those qualities? Break it into smaller parts. Teach us what we need to do to get to the immediate next step. Some people will fight you or only do exactly what you tell them to do but others will rise to the challenge. They’ll look beyond your base instructions and try to see the next step. Have them manage these next steps for you.”

“I don’t think you appreciate how complicated these changes can be.”

“I think you’re making it more complicated than it needs to be. Sure, the end goal might be complicated, but you can break it into smaller pieces. Have those who show they’re capable manage that step and when they get far enough, show them the next step. Some of these people will surprise you. They’ll figure that next step out for themselves, and all you’ll have to do is fine-tune their innovations. If you have as many areas to cover as you say, then you’ll be able to go from one team to another, managing through them, rather than trying to handle every step yourself.”

“She is correct, Commander. Delegation is the only way to achieve stated goals before Carthaginian forces are able to array themselves in full against the Romans. Example workflows include …”

“Thank you, I’ve got it,” Ky sub-vocalized. To Lucilla he said, “I guess you have a point. It’s hard to look past my own prejudices.”

“It’s heartening, knowing someone who is capable of so much has as much self-doubt as the rest of us.”

“You have no idea,” he said, laughing finally, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders. “Thank you. This has been very helpful.”

“I’m glad I could help. Like I said, everyone needs someone to talk to. One of the first things my father taught me about ruling was that no one can do it alone. Look at those he surrounds himself with. He’s chosen them carefully, to make sure he has people he can share some of the burdens with, people he could talk to when his perspective becomes jumbled.”

“It must have been hard to find the right people for that.”

“Father said that, before she died, he relied heavily on my mother. He had someone he could trust implicitly, share his worries and concerns with, and someone to talk out the things that were weighing on him. When she got sick, she made sure that he had people around him he could rely on in her place.”

“That sounds nice,” Ky said.

“You can talk to me, you know. I might not understand everything, but I will listen. Sometimes, just saying the words out loud might be enough.”

Ky thought back to how things were before, in what he was starting to think of as his old life. He’d had people to talk to then, to share his troubles with. People like Sara, who would hear him out without judging him. Of course, his troubles then paled in comparison to how things were now. He only had to worry about the success of test flights and his qualifications, not the future of a civilization. If he needed people then, he certainly needed someone now.

“That would be helpful. Thank you,” he said, standing. “I have to meet with the senators from the merchant guilds. Will you be around later?”

“I will be at the triumph of the victors this afternoon.”

“The what?”

“Father didn’t mention it? He said you’d be there.”

“Your father has a bad habit of not telling me things he expects me to do until the last moment. I think he feels he gave me too much time to dwell on your use of slaves in gladiatorial combat on the first day of the games, and thinks if he springs these surprises on me, I won’t have time to argue.”

“You’ll have to forgive him his manipulations. Considering the environment where he’s spent his entire life, it’s the only thing he’s ever known.”

“Maybe, but you might suggest he’d find me more useful as a partner than a pawn. Either way, let’s assume I’m going to be there.”

“Excellent, I’ll see you there,” she said, briefly grabbing his hand before walking back towards the palace.

Ky thought that, for a moment, he could still feel her touch as she walked away, and wondered at the situation.

“Sir,” one of his Lictores said, reminding him of the time.

“Right.”

He again met the Senators in the currently empty Forum. This time the gathering was much smaller. While these men controlled, or at least represented, the real money in Rome, they had less traditional power than their landed contemporaries.

“So he arrives,” Hortensius said.

While he wasn’t a Senator, he had deep ties in the merchant community and was the one Ky had asked to pull together this meeting.

“I’m sorry I was delayed.”

“Now that you’re here, we have much to discuss,” one of the men said.

“Ky, this is Kaeso Accoleius Prilidianus. He is the most senior of the gathered senators.”

“And the second richest man in Devnum, after dear Hortensius, although he’s too noble to admit it. We’ve been hearing rumors of new tax laws you intend to put before the Senator. As it is our interests that will bear the weight of these new laws, I would have thought you would have spoken to us first.”

“I spoke to the men who stand to lose the most under the new tax laws first, since they’d be the most likely to oppose it.”

“You think farmers have the most to lose?” one of the other assembled me said. “We’re the ones expected to pay these new levies?”

“True, but you will also have the most to gain by them.”

Several of the men started speaking at once but were silenced by Kaeso.

“Explain it to us,” Kaeso said.

“At the moment, the landowners wield most of the power in the Senate. Why? Some of it is tradition, this is true, but in reality, a lot of it is because they pay the lion’s share of the taxes into the Empire’s treasury. If they become dissatisfied enough they could withhold some of their taxes, making things very difficult for the Empire. I thought you, of all men, would understand the power of controlling the purse strings. I understand not wanting to part with your hard-earned money, but it isn’t just to do a civic duty. It will help you build real power in the Senate, instead of being relegated to some secondary voting bloc.”

“And yet, we still have to pay for it.”

“Yes, but once I explain the specifics I think you’ll see you’ll be gaining more than you lose, not just because you’ll advance your own political party, but in more tangible ways. I’m assuming Hortensius has explained some of this already, or the Senate rumor mill has.”

“Some,” Kaeso said. “There’s talk of new designs. New ideas. Our concern is who gets to decide who gets these new designs. Who profits from them.”

“Anyone who is capable of doing the work the Empire needs will get them. Not just military contracts but municipal ones and ideas that don’t come with a governmental contract, but which will be lucrative and necessary to take the Empire to where it needs to go. There will be plenty to go around.”

“We were thinking perhaps we could recommend a committee that,” Kaeso started to say, before Ky cut him off.

“While I understand your desire to maintain some control over these new technologies, I can’t allow them to be hoarded and doled out to supporters and friends. I’m willing to work with you all to ensure you all have the opportunity to profit from these ideas, but Rome’s need is too great to allow any limits to be put on these ideas.”

Some of the gathered men seemed less than happy about that, but Kaeso seemed to be built more in Hortensius’ mold, seeing the benefit in the situation rather than trying to force them to the breaking point. Of the gathered men, he’d been listening the most intently, his eyes shrewd and calculating, despite his stoic expression.

“That sounds fair,” he said, speaking over his grumbling compatriots. “Tell us about some of these opportunities we’ll be receiving in exchange for our new taxes.”

Ky spent the next several hours walking the men through some of the technologies he’d be introducing. As with the other men he’d already worked with, they’d grasped some of it while the value of other parts required seeing to truly understand them. Ky didn’t tell them everything he’d be introducing, since much of it was premature and would either create the wrong types of anticipation or were out of their grasp.

A brief overview was enough for these men, however. They weren’t technicians. All they needed to know was if the new ideas would find a market. If they could see the potential buyers, that was enough for them.

By the time he was finished, Ky felt strongly that Hortensius would keep them together and he’d have their support on the new laws.

Ky was back in his rooms by early afternoon, sketching more diagrams and details he’d promised the foundries when he was interrupted by one of his Lictores pounding on his door. Unusually for them, they didn’t wait for Ky to respond before they opened his door.

“I’m sorry Consul, but the Emperor has asked you to come to the forum, urgently.”

“The forum?” Ky asked, looking past the soldier to one of the Emperor’s men who stood just over his shoulder.

“Silo showed up a few minutes ago with enough senators to create a quorum. They ignored the traditional period of notification for all the Senators to gather and called the body into order.”

“He doesn’t have enough for that on his own,” Ky said.

Since he began working on getting enough Senators to support his new laws, Ky had spent time making himself familiar with the specifics of the Roman legislative system.

“He has enough to open the Senate to debate,” Carus said, arriving at a run. “My contacts just reached out to me as well, and said we must get there.”

“Have we lost some of our bloc?” Ky asked, following the Emperor’s man towards the Forum.

“I don’t think so, but some of the men we’ve talked to have started to arrive. These debates are recorded by heralds who will announce them to the people afterward. Many of them are not strong enough in their seats to not take part. For many Romans, politics is the greatest form of public entertainment. The Senate heralds draw large crowds.”

“Do we have men we know are solidly behind us?”

“Yes. This all reads as a desperate move by Silo. He’s able to do the same counts as we have. He’ll have worked out he’s losing his majority. He’ll also know some of the men we’ve already counted will still have to be present for the debate. He may hope by calling a vote now while our bloc is not all in Devnum, he’ll manage to outmaneuver us.”

As they entered the outer chambers of the Forum, Ky stopped and faced Carus, “Can we get enough of our men here to vote down whatever he puts forward?”

“Maybe, but it’ll be close. The men from the northern districts are still at their mines, trying to get their workforces ready for the new orders you’ve promised.”

“There’re no new orders till these laws are passed.”

“They know that, but they also know the way imperial contracts are structured, they must be ready to start when they accept them. None of them want to leave the initial orders to their competitors because they aren’t ready for them.”

“Shortsighted,” Ky said.

“Yes, but that is how these things work. It’s one of the reasons why we haven’t been able to move any faster. Except for the merchant guild senators and those senators without portfolio, we knew we’d have trouble getting everyone else together quickly enough.”

“Go. Get as many of the Senators who support us together and get them here now. I’ll see who we have here and if any of them are able to delay the proceedings as much as possible.”

“Yes, Consul,” Carus said, slapping his fist to his chest before dashing out of the Forum.

Ky walked onto the outer floor of the forums and heard the speaker in the center falter when they saw him. It was one of Silo’s men, although one Ky hadn’t heard identified yet. Ky knew that his place was on the open end of the Forum, casing the three-sided seats for the Senators, in one of the two consul chairs. They flanked the large chair meant for the Emperor at the center of the dais against the north wall of the Senate floor and resembled more a stool than an actual chair. From Ky’s reading, they were what was traditionally used before Rome had become an Empire, their simple design symbolizing a simple soldier’s camp chair.

Ky walked past the man, something he knew was a sign of disrespect for a Senator already giving a speech, and took his seat on the Consul’s chair. There were two consuls’ chairs and Ky had selected the one that had originally been assigned to the senior-most Consul. Although that was probably the right choice considering he was the only Consul Rome had had in a long time, he also knew sitting there would send a message to the other Senators that he wasn’t just a tool of the Emperor, but understood the power his office had.

The other three sides of the room were for the Senators and held three levels of stone benches angling down towards the center of the Forum, looking at the speaker, allowing everyone to see the person in the center. Where the Senators sat depended on their relation to the Emperor and his government. Those who supported the Emperor sat on the stone benches to the right hand of the Emperor’s chair. Those who opposed him sat to the left, while those who chose to remain neutral and not openly oppose the Emperor sat in the center section, separating the two factions.

As voting blocs moved and shifted with the political winds, Senators would reposition themselves as they changed allegiances. The opposition benches were fairly full, with all three rows of benches occupied. Ky couldn’t help but notice the Senators in Silo’s faction weren’t the only people on that side. The generals who’d stormed out of the meeting the day before were present, talking with Silo’s men.

As the man in the middle continued to opine about the poor council that the Emperor had been receiving and how that weakened Rome, Senators continued to file into the room. Most of the new arrivals went to the government’s side, men summoned by the Emperor, while a handful found seats in the middle undeclared section. Unfortunately, some of the new arrivals turned and joined the opposition men.

Taenaris, one of the Emperor’s strongest supporters, looked across the open center, past the speaking Senator to Ky, making brief eye contact before shaking his head, his mouth tight. Ky understood the message. They weren’t going to get enough men in place. Ky almost wanted to go to the man, tell him to take all their supporters out, before anything could be proposed, to try and deny Silo a quorum. There was, however, no guarantee that all of the assembled men would go, which would leave their vote even more lopsided.

“Thank you, Senator,” Silo said, stepping onto the floor and putting an arm around the speaking man. “We will all be thinking well on your wise words.”

Ky was almost certain there wasn’t a single man in the room who’d been paying enough attention to even explain the most basic outline of what the man had said, let alone enough to think on it for more than a few seconds.

“I see enough of my esteemed colleagues have arrived that we now have a quorum. While my heart rejoices at knowing so many of you are willing to do your duty on this short notice, it weighs heavy for the reason we’re all here.”

“You don’t have a heart, Silo,” one of the emperors’ men called out.

Ky hadn’t witnessed a vote in the Senate yet, but the description the Emperor and Carus had given him suggested they were much more raucous events than governmental meetings in Ky’s own time.

Silo, for his part, seemed inured to it, ignoring the man completely.

“Our Empire is under attack, from without and from within. Armies have assaulted this very city and we have lost more of our southern territory. Rome hangs on a precipice, and the Emperor, in his infinite wisdom, has decided that this is the time to hand the fate of our glorious Empire to a man who, by his own admission, has no experience in governance. While we all appreciate the victory our glorious Consul led us to, I am afraid he may have eaten more than his stomach could handle. While we should be readying our legions to defend ourselves from the onslaught that is coming, he has decided that now is the moment to change every aspect of our society. Traditions going back to the founding of the Republic are to be thrown out and new ideas put in their place.”

Silo lifted an arm to the legates standing off to one side of the room and said, “I’ve spoken with military leaders, men who have seen to the defense of Rome their entire lives. I’ve asked if perhaps I am just shortsighted. If maybe there is some genius here that I can’t see. I had hoped that, perhaps, this was some form of military thinking unknown to me, but sadly they have assured me it is not. They have agreed that this plan will be the death of the Empire if we let it go on. While I love my Emperor and will forever support his glorious family, I cannot stand aside now. There comes a time when the child must look to the parent as the parent once minded the child. I am afraid that time is now, so it is with love that I say NO. NO, we will not be taking the slaves out of our forges and off our farms. We will not allow our soldiers to lack for arms and our children wail from empty bellies because the hands that should have made the iron and plowed the fields were taken from us. NO, we will not be disbanding the conscript levies. The Empire’s strength lies with its people, who have banded together since the days of the Republic to defend our borders. We shall not strip ourselves of those defenders in our most desperate hour. NO, we will not be giving slaves swords and putting them at the backs of our brave warriors. The vanquished do not so easily give up their anger towards Rome and only an enemy of Rome would willingly aid them in rising up against their betters.”

“I am proposing a new law that forbids the freeing of slaves except by those given that right by tradition. No amount of money paid to their owners is enough to make up for their cost to Rome. This new law will, furthermore, mandate the enslavement of enemy soldiers unless they are traded for our own captured legionaries. I do not want another sesterce spent to feed and clothe the men now held in prison camps outside the city walls when they could be added to our workforce, enriching Rome and strengthening us for the battle to come.”

“Scribes are handing out copies of the new law that I am proposing now. I call for a vote in one hour.”

“Seconded,” one of Silos men said.

Rustling filled the room as the scribes began handing out the pages and men began to gather to discuss them.

“Commander, this legislation would make it impossible to implement any current plans. If passed, chances of Rome’s survival past this year drop to under one percent.”

“No kidding,” Ky sub-vocalized. “I’m just not sure what we can do about it.”

“You can veto the legislation.”

“I can?”

“Affirmative. However, the rule hasn’t been used in over a hundred years, mostly due to the lack of a sitting Consul. In one-fifteen BCE, after the fall of Locris, which resulted in the loss of all southern Italy to the Carthaginians, a series of reforms were put in place now commonly known as the Gracchi reforms, after the brothers who proposed them. These reforms aimed to correct the faults many contemporary Romans believed led to the defeat, including stricter penalties for governmental corruption and greater control of the legislature by the appointed Consuls. Part of these controls included the right of a Consul to veto any law proposed by the Senate prior to it being passed. While the Senate at the time was not able to halt these reforms they did manage to put in caveats, which included a requirement that the Consul had to be present in the assembly to exercise the veto.”

“That’s helpful, although it does limit me from traveling outside of Devnum if we don’t have enough Senators to vote down anything Silo proposes. He’s crafty. He may have missed this rule now, but he’ll only overlook it once. Next time he’ll wait until I’m not in a position to veto him before making another attempt.”

“As you say, Commander.”

Ky frowned. While he found the lack of response irritating, normally the AI had no response for rhetorical statements, even those made directly to it. While this wasn’t necessarily out of its programming, the change in pattern added to a growing list of concerning behavior from it.

“As is my right as Consul, I veto this legislation, and end all discussion of its provisions as being counter to the best interest of Rome.”

While he found the wording strange, Ky made sure to use the exact wording the AI had found in the scans of the texts he’d been studying. He didn’t trust Silo not to look for any loophole that might get him around this move.

“What?” Silo demanded, spinning to face Ky.

“I am sure if you consult the law books and the rights and privileges of the Consul’s office, you will find this among them.”

“Those rules have not been used in over a century!”

Ky was impressed. After only the briefest of hesitation, Silo had been able to identify the rule that Ky had referenced, despite it being so old. Ky was saddened, that the man had decided to oppose the government. He was clever, smart, and quick on his feet, exactly the kind of person Lucilla had meant when she suggested he delegate some of the responsibilities that currently weighed on him. Unfortunately, these traits came with an inability to accept change and a hatred for the Emperor.

“That may be true,” Ky responded. “But they are still law, nonetheless. These rights have never been revoked from the office of Consul, nor has the office itself been diminished, despite the century Rome spent without them. I have the right of veto, and I am exercising it.”

Silo glared for several moments, seeming to vacillate between fury and surprise. Then he bundled his toga around himself and stormed out of the Forum, followed by his supporters.

Ky slumped back, or as much as he could in a chair with no back. He’d managed to put off Silo this time, but he was certain this wasn’t the last he’d heard on the issue.

Chapter 24

After several hours in conversation with Ramirus, Carus, and Taenaris, Ky finally got to leave the Senate. For now, as long as Ky was always at hand, they could block Silo, but they needed to get more loyal Senators in the city at least until the new laws were passed.

In the spirit of delegating out more responsibilities, Ky spoke to all three men about crafting the actual details of the new laws, after making sure all three of them were on the same page. While they didn’t understand the need or end goal of some of the laws Ky was pushing for, they’d been instructed by the Emperor to follow Ky’s lead, and all three men had been willing to do the bulk of the legwork on making Ky’s ideas law.

Ky was still planning to look over their work, just to make sure everything fit what was needed, but even with the AI’s help, he didn’t understand the inner workings of the government enough to do it himself. Lucilla had been right, he really did need men like this, that he could hand off some of the ever-growing lists of demands for his time.

All three men were now also sending messengers to the supporters they managed to sway to their cause. From the last count, Ky’s meetings with the various voting blocs had been enough to give the coalition they’d built the majority, which all supported the outline of the laws he’d layout for them.

While it was getting late when they finished, he wasn’t entirely done. The Emperor had insisted he attend the final victory parade for the various champions of the games, going so far as to call a halt to their meeting in the forums.

“I will admit, Emperor, that I am growing tired of these games. I understand their need and have no issue with their being held, but it seems like my presence is regularly required. Even with Ramirus and Taenaris doing much of the work in the Senate, I still have much to do.”

“I have tried to explain this, but I understand you are a soldier and not a politician, so I will try again. While you have built a coalition in the Senate capable of doing what you need, much of that power is fleeting. True, the Senators saw some value in what you’re proposing, but they are all, to a man, ultimately beholden to the people they serve. If you lose the masses, then many of the men you have brought to our side will slip back through our fingers. In politics, loyalty is fleeting, and most often only yours for a short amount of time. The most important thing you can do to keep their allegiance is to keep the people’s allegiance. If they support you, then their Senators will not abandon you.”

“That is fine, but this is, what, the fourth event I’ve been to. How much is enough?”

“There is never enough, when it comes to the mob. The mob will take all you can give and demand more. There is only what you are able to give.”

“Lucilla mentioned this was more of a parade of the victors than a contest. I hope I will not have to sit by while slaves murder each other for our approval, will I?”

“No, she is right. We take seats on the floor of the colosseum, and the victor of each contest will be brought before us. They will be given their winnings, if any winnings are due, and a laurel placed on their head. We will congratulate their valor, or skill, or what have you and praise them as a shining example of the Empire. Their family and friends will be in the stands, watching. The people don’t forget the magnanimity of their Emperor, or their Consul. We will be binding these men and women and all of their families to us, for a time, at least.”

When the Emperor said we would take seats on the floor of the Senate, Ky imagined simple chairs set. What he got was something closer to a portable throne room. An ornate throne sat in the center of the arena, flanked by a copy of the simple Consul’s stool on the right side. The throne was smaller than the one in the throne room, but only by a little. They faced the large gate that led to the subterranean levels, where the victors were being held in wait for each of their turn to process towards the Emperor and receive their accolades.

Behind the Emperor were his loyal guards. Ky’s Lictores were not allowed within an arm’s length of the Emperor. While Ky was fairly sure the Emperor didn’t fear him, that was probably a prudent security measure. He’d already seen how difficult it could be to tell friend from foe in Rome.

The processions started, each victor, or sets of victors in a few cases, were called out by a herald, after which they would proceed at a steady pace until they were several feet from the thrown, where they would kneel and bow their heads. The Emperor would say a few words of encouragement and then direct Ky to approach and place the laurel crown on their heads. The AI tried to explain that parts of the ceremony had been lifted from the original Greek Olympic games by the Romans at some point in the past, but that it had been further altered since the divergence from their original timeline, becoming more formal and serious.

Ky eventually had to tell the AI to shut up. Its long-winded explanation on a topic he had not requested information on was yet another note in the growing list of unusual behaviors.

After the first dozen presentations, Ky checked out of the whole process. Beyond clapping at the right points and putting a wreath on the head of the victor, there wasn’t much for Ky to do. While he appreciated how much this meant for each of them, he’d never been invested in the games themselves. For the Romans, these games had a religious and social impact, which meant little to Ky. While religion still existed in his time, it was mostly centered around Emperor worship, and he hadn’t been one of the devotees.

The level to which people of this time believed every aspect of life was somehow controlled by mighty figures watching from a high peak baffled Ky. They believed that these beings that created the world would care if a person didn’t slaughter enough goats or offer enough daily prayers, like some petty accountant checking off tallies for the proper amount of worship, and would create misfortune on that person if the numbers didn’t add up. It was all perplexing, although the AI had repeatedly warned that he had to take their religion into account if he was going to mold them into that which could survive.

So, Ky did his duty for each person being awarded, even if he did it with disinterest. That disinterest almost cost him his life, had he not had the AI.

“Commander, hostile detected,” it warned, highlighting one of the people gathered in front of him.

Even with the warning, Ky was almost caught off guard. It took a moment to recognize what the AI had been warning about. The person had ducked a hand inside their open-sided tunic and the beginnings of a dagger had started to be pulled out.

His Lictores were several steps behind, and they too had been lulled into a sense of security by the repetitive nature of the ceremony. To their credit, they reacted as soon as Ky began to move, but it wouldn’t have been enough to stop the assailant.

Ky, however, was fast enough. The AI had already removed the interlocks that they put in place to limit his speed to something just above what unaltered humans were capable of. Ky felt like he had suddenly stepped out of a pool, no longer pushing against the force of the water and able to move freely again. That too, almost caused problems. He hadn’t moved this quickly in some time, and his balance was slightly off. The AI’s motor assist helped correct for this, as it was designed to do.

Ky’s arm shot out in a blur, grabbing the assailant’s wrist just as the weapon cleared the man’s tunic. He squeezed, not hard enough to turn the bone into powder, but enough to break it, causing the man to drop the weapon. At the same time Ky lifted the man straight up, his arm fully extended, so the man dangled free from the ground.

The assailant didn’t give up. He struck out his hand catching Ky on the side of the face. A fist was too slow to activate his shielding, but Ky was sturdier than the people of this time, the blow causing no permanent damage.

The guards around him didn’t seem to realize this, reacting instinctively.

“NO!” Ky called out as one of the guards who’d been flaking the men being awarded, stabbed out with the spear he’d been holding.

The iron tip exploded through the assailant’s chest as the guard skewered him through the back. A look of surprise locked on the man’s face as he died, the spear ripping through his heart.

Ky released him, angry.

“I wasn’t in any danger,” Ky said, fury in his eyes.

“I’m … I’m sorry Consul. I didn’t …”

“I think it’s best if we call an end to the ceremony now,” The Emperor said, pulling himself up out of his throne.

The guards reacted quickly, hustling the remaining citizens on the floor of the colosseum back into the tunnels, while the Emperor’s personal guard and Ky’s Lictores led them back inside the building itself.

He hesitated, unsure of where to go. The ramps of the arena were filling with spectators, some running in panic others to spread the word of what happened. There were already far too many people in between them and the safety of the Imperial Palace, and that number continued to grow as people realized the event was over and began filing out of their seats for home.

“To the antechamber of my box, please,” the Emperor said.

“We needed that man alive, to question him,” Ky said as they were led to the Emperor’s box.

“I agree, but the man was just doing his duty. He saw you in danger and acted. You might not have been in danger, but any other man would have been. You have to forgive them their training.”

“I do, and I hold no ill will towards you, soldier,” Ky said to the man who’d slain the attacker.

“Thank you, Consul,” he said.

“This was a planned attack, and I would like to know which of our enemies set it in motion. I don’t think it was in response to what happened in the Forum today, this would have taken more time to set up. It’s been less than a week since the word of our proposed laws started leaking out.”

“That means they would have had to start plotting right after your victory,” the Emperor said. “Silo and his snakes trying to kill you because you could veto whatever laws they try to pass makes sense. It’s in his nature. Before that, you were barely known here, and what people knew of you was that you saved our city from complete destruction. Why would someone start plotting your death then?”

“Maybe the same people that poisoned you. They might be angry enough that I stopped their plan to want me dead. We need to get Ramirus and Carus working on this now. There’s something larger going on here, and we need to know about it.”

“I agree,” the Emperor said.

They waited ten more minutes for the city guard to create a lane between the colosseum and the palace lined with armed men. That ten minutes seemed to drag on into eternity, as Ky worked through all the information they’d collected so far, trying to figure out what he was missing.

After dispatching Carus, Ky spent the next several hours in his rooms trying, and failing, to go over the next day’s plans. His distraction got to the point that the AI even queried him, asking if everything was alright. Finally he gave up and sat in a chair, staring at the ceiling, continuing to mull his problem over.

Everything they were doing was still in the early stages, barely started and easily halted. He’d been trained as a soldier and was ill-equipped to deal with this kind of intrigue. Political plotting and scheming was beyond his experience, and that worried him. He felt blind to a fight that had already started.

He was finally pulled out of his reverie by a knock at the door.

“Come,” Ky said, not bothering to stand.

“Consul,” Carus said, sweeping into the room and slapping a fist to his chest in salute.

Ky sat up when he saw who it was.

“Any word?”

“Some, although not as much as I would like. Although the Emperor has allotted significant resources to your protection, including for my assignments, we haven’t had time to get everything placed. It’s difficult work getting men in the right places to hear the things we need to know. Ramirus has spent decades building his network, and he is still blind in many areas.”

“Were you able to work with him, have access to his resources?”

“Yes, we’ve been together until just now. It is late and he has early meetings. Besides, you can only pluck at the strings of a network so many times before you must rest them.”

“All of which means you don’t have much, but you do have something,” Ky translated.

“Yes. We’ve been focusing on getting men, or Ramirus’s assets, inside the households of the people we think most likely to be part of this cabal we’ve heard about. They turned up little. If they are part of it, they’re still playing the game too cannily for us to catch them.”

“That is what you haven’t found. What have you found?”

“We’ve had more luck with our less than reputable contacts.”

“The underworld?”

“Consul?”

Ky realized he’d used a term that didn’t translate properly. When the Romans talked about the underworld, they spoke about the home of Pluto, the god of the dead.

“I’m sorry, where I come from that term is also used to name the criminal element that operates underneath more civilized society.”

“Ohh, I see. That’s not bad actually. Yes, our contacts in the, uhh, underworld. The price on your head has increased twice more. Once after your victory in the games and again three days ago. The amount is significant, more than any but the richest man could afford.”

“It could be a group of men offering the bounty.”

“We’ve considered that, which takes us back to our supposed cabal. We understand they’ve been having problems getting professionals to take the job though. We aren’t certain, but it seems this attempt wasn’t a paid job. The man’s family disappeared last night. We haven’t found them yet and fear they’re already dead.”

“Damn,” Ky said, banging his fist on his chair. “All the more reason not to kill him. It was me or his family, not a hard choice. He knew he was a dead man, but did it anyway.”

“I agree, but what’s done is done. It does tell us how desperate they are. This attempt had almost no chance of succeeding while exposing them again to discovery.”

“It’s the new laws. They’ve wanted me dead for a while, but now they’re on a deadline.”

“Which means this will not be the last attempt on your life. We will have to be more watchful.”

“I’m more concerned about the people around me getting hurt. I am more than capable of protecting myself.”

“Of that we have no doubt Consul, but even a man sent by the gods sometimes sleeps. Besides, part of protecting you is keeping these threats from getting to the point where it hurts those around you.”

Ky immediately began to bump up against Carus’s increased vigilance when they tried to deny him his morning walk along the palace complex plaza. While he appreciated the man’s dedication to protecting him, he wasn’t going to hide inside, always surrounded by armed guards.

The people needed to see him. The Emperor had made it clear that his presence, especially after the victory outside the city gates, was the most important piece in keeping the citizens behind them, and with that enough power to hold their own coalition together. Ky didn’t agree that he was the lynchpin to their plans, but he accepted that the Emperor was more skilled in these areas than he was.

Beyond that, Roman buildings were dark, damp, and altogether too claustrophobic. He spent enough time indoors meeting with various functionaries. He wanted to be outside, feeling the breeze on his face. His Lictores found his need for these moments of peace outside strange, but just chalked it up to another of his oddities. Had they known his true history, and understood it, they would have only found it stranger. Even Ky found the idea of a man born in an enclosed habitat surrounded by vacuum demanding time outdoor strange, and he was that man.

They had another big day ahead of them today. First was a meeting with the millers outside of town. He’d made sure to send invitations to his presentation out to as many millers from other towns as possibly more than a week ago, including a promise to help pay for the cost of their trip to the capitol. The Emperor had questioned the need for the last part, but Ky insisted on it. He needed as many of the Empire’s millers at today’s meeting as possible.

One of the most limiting factors in Rome’s manpower was its food situation. Growing crops was labor-intensive, even when most of it was slave labor. His new anti-slavery laws would make the strain on farm labor that much worse. He was already working on technology to deal with that, but it wasn’t the only constraining point in the Empire’s food supply. After growing the grain, the next issue was processing it into flour that could be used for baking, bread being a staple of the Roman diet.

Despite the pending labor shortage, he expected to be able to increase farm yields significantly for the next harvest. That was the easy part. He needed the millers to be able to handle that increased supply, and the steps needed for their changes were much more intensive. Which was why this meeting had been put so early on his schedule, ahead of even the demonstration for the farmers themselves of the new techniques he was offering them.

He and his Lictores, plus a handful of the city guard the Emperor insisted Ky took to bolster his defense, mounted, and rode out of the city, heading in from the inlet, following the river that made up one side of Devnum’s borders. It wasn’t a long journey, just far enough down the river to where the millers had built their primitive water wheels for running the large grinders.

Ky locked his legs around the horse and let the AI guide it while he reviewed the letters he and the Emperor had been sending back and forth since the disastrous military counsel. That was his second major task for the day, but it still had some preliminary work that needed to be done. He made sure not to let on to his men when they made comments about his riding without a hand on the reigns, while holding his upper body still enough to be able to scrawl out notes on loose pages.

He timed it right, and managed to finish his latest batch of notes for the Emperor by the time they arrived at the mill that had been selected for his presentation. Handing it to a runner to take back to the Emperor, Ky swung himself off the horse and handed the reins off to one of his Lictores before heading towards the men gathered in front of the building.

“Good morning gentleman … and lady,” Ky said when he noticed a woman standing among the group. “I’m sure many of you are wondering why you were all brought here and why the Emperor himself put his name on the request. Over the next year, you’re going to see the size of the grain harvests increase dramatically. That’s good, because we’re going to need it. Large armies in the fields and hopefully an increased population, if everything goes well, means we’ll have a large need for food. Once we get the harvest yields up, we’re going to start facing an issue here, in getting that grain milled fast enough so that we can feed all the people we need to and so that the wheat we do harvest doesn’t go bad.”

“We’re going into winter,” one of the men said. “The next harvest won’t be in for half a year, why do we need to meet now to deal with it?”

“Because the changes you’re going to need to make are substantial. For some of you, that will require nearly rebuilding your mills.”

“Rebuilding the mills? Do you know what that’ll cost?”

“I do, actually. The Emperor has agreed to fund loans to any of you for construction. Before any of you ask why you should take on the loan, let me explain what’s in it for you. When we’re done, your yields will at the very least double, if not triple, and after all that wheat is turned into flour you’re going to find a ready market to buy it. The army is going to be marching in the Spring, and we’ll need to fill our supply columns with your flour to do it. The markets are going to need more bread to feed the new mouths. You’ll make your money back and then some.”

“How exactly are you going to double our yield?”

“There are a couple of ways,” Ky said, rolling out a series of plans he’d drawn up. “The first is in your mills themselves. Most of you are still using animal or hand-powered mills, and those who are using water wheels are still using undershot wheels.”

“Undershot? We have wheels, the water pushes them. I’m not sure what you mean by undershot.”

“There are several ways to push a wheel. Right now you put your wheel so the current pushes the braces as it passes underneath it, turning the wheel. This works fine in turning your wheel, but it doesn’t have the power you really want it to have. More power means heavier stones and a higher heat generated while crushing the grain. The speed and heavier stones allow you to grind the wheat faster while the heat allows you to lock in more nutrition into the flour, allowing for a higher quality product.”

“How do we get more power?”

“A system like this,” Ky said, pointing at one part of the diagram. “Allows you to drop water down on the outer part of the wheel blade, pushing it down instead of pushing it up. You get more force by using the leverage of pushing the blade down and the assist from gravity, allowing the wheel to turn faster.”

“We’ve tested a system similar to this, but if the river drops too low, you can’t get the water up the aqueduct and production drops to a halt. You also can’t raise the wheel and stop the mill when maintenance is needed.”

“Right, which is what this does for you,” Ky said, pointing further up the diagram. “We build a cistern here. It collects water when the level is high and allows you to supplement the water flow when it dips. We’re also looking into extending the city aqueduct out to some of the mills, allowing for a more consistent level of water.”

They began discussing the ideas amongst themselves. Not all of it was new. Parts of the technology they should have already had by this point, in Ky’s timeline, but their technological advancement had been stunted some thanks to decades defending their homes from the Carthaginians and how many times Rome as a whole had to relocate further and further from their ancestral home. Other parts were minor improvements that they would have come to on their own before long. Parts of the plans were based on a large Roman mill factory located in Gaul, although without the sixteen parallel waterwheels.

“That’s not all. We can also lower your manpower need in the mill, as well. Right now, every step is done by hand. Someone pours the grain into the shifter, which then dumps it on the grindstone. Then, someone collects the ground flour and puts it through a series of shifters. These plans,” Ky said, moving the first plans and showing them another. “Show a hopper design where you fill all the way up, and it adds grain to the wheel as ground flower moves off, thanks to these fans, blowing everything down this funnel. Then an elevator of rotating buckets on a belt continually picks up the flour and lifts it up and over to here, where a small group can continually fill sacks with flour. They never have to move, because the flour will keep being brought to them by these buckets and belts here. What makes this work is that all of these other parts are run off the same water as you’re using for your mill.”

It took some time to walk them through the plans for how the whole system would work. Overall it was a combination of late Roman renaissance, and early Victorian technology mashed together. Flour milling, as a science, had moved slowly in his time, at least until the nuclear age, with its addition of higher quality metals, chemicals and electricity. It was a hodgepodge of technological levels with ideas that weren’t used concurrently in his timeline, but which were all within reach of the technology Rome had access to now.

They also quickly understood the need for enough time to rework all of their mills. Besides new things like the belts and the cisterns, the plans also called for a geared vertical design, as opposed to a simpler horizontal wheel design, where the water pushed one router in a single action. The addition of gearing, which allowed for the changing of direction in the machine power, also allowed for even greater speeds. This would, however, require a complete retooling of their current mills.

As with the other people Ky had spoken to, there were some too stuck to tradition, who refused to change from the way things were always done. Ky knew some of them would end up being a problem but, like so many other things he’d had to bypass, he’d have to deal with that later.

By the time they finished up, enough of the mill owners had signed on to building the new design to keep up with the expected production increase from the farms. There were some millers not at the meeting, who’d needed to be approached one on one, but that would also have to wait. He’d have to find someone to go to the further out towns and try to bring some of those into the fold.

What mattered is that he had enough millers onboard to make his plans work … for now.

Chapter 25

The day was getting late by the time Ky got back. He headed straight to the Emperor’s audience chamber, where they’d arranged for the meeting with the military commanders. Ky had gotten the message back from the Emperor, agreeing to his final notes. With that, he was able to work with the AI while they rode, making the last adjustments to their plan.

The extended back and forth with the Emperor had been the easy part. Now he had to sit down with the military commanders and get everything put into action. As expected, the legionary commanders who’d stormed out of the previous military council didn’t show up. While it was an affront to the Emperor and punishable by dismissal, he and the Emperor had discussed this inevitable development.

They’d agreed to let the matter lie. Like most legions, the majority of their men were loyal to them above the Empire itself. Punishing them would permanently alienate the Legates and possibly push things into outright mutiny. They really needed these trained men and both Ky and the Emperor thought there was still a chance, however slim, to bring them back into the fold.

“I’m sorry for keeping you all so late,” Ky said as he sat down at the right-hand side of the Emperor.

“We all know how busy your schedule has kept you, Consul.”

“Thank you, Emperor. I know some of you already suspect what this meeting is about, but I’ll go ahead and lay it out. We’ve spoken about potential changes to the legions and I’ve given each of you an opportunity to have your say. The Emperor and I have also spent quite some time discussing these changes, and we’ve made the final decisions on what’s going to happen. I’ll have full written reports for each of you tonight with detailed instructions, but I wanted to lay the new changes out for you in person, in case you have questions. These will all go into effect immediately, although we have built-in some lead time for the larger changes.”

“I’m sure we’ll be able to make it work,” Aelius said.

“I’m sure you will,” the Emperor said. “I want to make it clear that everything Ky presents now has my full support and agreement.”

“First is the largest change. As of now, each Legate controlled their assigned legions independently. That worked fine when forces had to fight completely cut off in the far reaches of the Empire, but it has also led to some of the larger military losses Rome has suffered, as well as a few Civil Wars. We don’t need Legates who operate personal fiefdoms all of their own and we don’t want our legions’ quality governed solely by their commander. To that end, we are going to go to a centralized command. We are creating a new position of Prime Legate, who will be in overall command of Rome’s military, under the direct supervision of the Emperor himself. This Legate will control no operational forces. His main task will be the strategic coordination of Rome’s forces, leaving tactical matters to his field commanders. He will be served by a staff that will include men trained by Ramirus in the use of intelligence, men trained in supply and logistics, and men trained in strategic planning. While we already have some men with experience in this area, we will have to teach some of the men we need, enough to fill these positions. I will give you a list of the number of men and positions we need filled for you to recommend applicants under your command. This will be an important job and, if we get the right people, they will make your jobs easier, so it’s important these are the right men. Don’t try getting rid of those you don’t want in your command.”

“We wouldn’t do that,” Velius said.

“While I trust each of you to not do this, it isn’t an unheard-of thing, so I wanted to state it outright. Velius, we will be promoting you to the position of Prime Legate. I know you would prefer to stay in the field and I know some of the rest of you feel you might be better suited for this role, but this is the decision we made. I promise there will be other chances for advancement for each of you.”

“Velius has the most experience of any of us in field command,” Aelius said. “It’s the right choice.”

“Eborius would not agree with that,” Auspex said.

“I know he wouldn’t, and that’s one of the reasons among many why he isn’t being given this position. We need someone who sees the job as working with other commanders, not ruling over them. Velius, we will be promoting Gordianus to Legate and give him your legion.”

“He’s a good man,” Velius said. “He’s up to the job.”

“Good. That gives us three legions, not counting our two missing Legate’s commands, under your command. We’re going to recreate the Fifth Legion and place it under Ursinus’s command. We’ve talked about taking men from each of your commands to make the core of the Fifth Legion, and then filling out the differences with slaves who agree to take up arms in exchange for their freedom, and captured men who switch sides. You need to go through each of your cohorts and decide who you’ll be sending over. Remember at some point you’re going to expect Ursinus to protect your flank, so don’t send him only the dregs. We want no more than half of any century to be made up of new men, which will be split evenly between prisoners and slaves. We need a list of these by the end of this week, so we can start having them split off and set up camp with Ursinus’s legion and begin training together. Once the new laws pass, we’re going to start getting new men into the ranks right away, so your legions all need to be ready.”

Ky stopped to make sure each of the men understood.

“The next change will be at the legion level. Right now, the Legates use their cohort commanders as their command staff. Those men need to focus on their cohorts. Just like the Prime Legates command, I want each of you to put together a command staff of men who understand tactical strategy, logistics, and intelligence. They will be able to work with their opposites in the Prime Legates staff to put plans into motion and will be where future Prime command staff will pull manpower from. These men will help their Legate put into practice their orders and plan out their assigned missions.”

“Do we really need this much manpower for planning?” Velius asked. “A full-strength legion is usually five-thousand men. Not an overwhelming number for any Legate to control.”

“As we manage to increase manpower, we’ll also be increasing the size of legions, eventually to double that number. Eventually, the prime Legate will give commands to corps commanders, each who controls a set number of legions, each of which is broken into their cohorts, and centuries, and so on. It seems excessive now, when you’re talking about tightly fighting formations who pack shoulder to shoulder to fight, and it is. You will see as we progress and new technologies are added, this structure will make more sense. For now, however, we will have legates report directly to the prime Legate. The additional staff manpower might be more than is needed, but we also need to learn, in practice, how to work with these new structures. It’s better to do that now, when we don’t need it, rather than later, when mistakes are amplified.”

Ky looked to Velius to see if his answer was satisfactory.

“What about the Fourth?” Velius asked.

The Fourth Legion was the one that still manned the wall that marked the northern boundary of Roman territory with that of the Picts. It was led by a Legate named Vibius Sepurcius Ennodius. He was fairly young, although not as young as Auspex. He’d seen his share of fighting but wasn’t of the same group that Eborius and Pius came up through the ranks with. The Emperor thought he’d be loyal to the Empire, but Ky wasn’t willing to bet on that. There’d been too many with a reason to be loyal to the Empire, if only to protect themselves from the coming Carthaginian hordes, who’d instead clung tightly to personal power regardless of the risks.

“The Emperor sent a man up to talk to Vibius, but I plan on making a trip to the north soon. Unless something changes radically in the north, we’ll have to leave at least one legion on the wall to keep from having to fight in two directions. He’ll still fall under the new organizational structure under you, and we’re also planning on changing out a portion of his legionaries with new men as well.”

“And if he isn’t with us?” Aelius asked.

“We’ll deal with that when we come to it.”

That answer didn’t seem to satisfy anyone in the room, least of all Ky himself, but they all recognized that it was how things would have to be for now.

“The next will not directly affect any of you, but I wanted to address it with you now, so that you were all aware of it. Currently, the Praetorian Guard is little more than a personal force to protect the Emperor and the palace grounds and is small enough to regularly need manpower drawn from the city guard. We plan on expanding that. Most of the expansion will be recruits from the city guard, although we will offer some men from the legions the option of switching to the Praetorian in leadership promotions. We will be expanding the guard to be an Empire-wide police force.”

The volume of noise that assaulted Ky from around the room forced him to stop, even though it wasn’t unexpected. The Emperor had been against this idea when Ky had first proposed it and even Ky himself had to admit that there were more than just public relations problems with it. The Emperor held up a hand for silence, which everyone obeyed after enough of a pause to make sure Ky and the Emperor understood they were serious in the decision.

“I understand your concerns,” the Emperor said. “In fact, I share them. When Ky first brought this idea to me, I was against it. I ask that you hear him out first, before you pass judgment.”

“I can tell you whatever complaints you have for this idea, the Emperor beat you to them,” Ky said when all the eyes were back on him. “I understand that none of you would be happy with a para-military force enforcing the Emperor’s personal rule across the Empire, and I will tell you that is not what this is.”

“We all know that the Emperor is a good man and would not use a force like this to tighten his grip on the people,” Aelius said. “My concern is with whoever comes after him. Systems like this outlive the Emperor who creates them, and there’s no guarantee that a future Emperor would be as noble. I don’t want to fight to keep from becoming part of the Carthaginian Hegemony just to become a copy of it all on our own.”

“I agree, which is why this force will not be solely answerable to the Emperor. While the Emperor and his appointed men will administer it, the Senate will have a say over its funding and leadership. We haven’t worked out the exact details yet, but every so many years, the Emperor will be required to get approval from the Senate to continue operating the guard in its new capacity. If they don’t approve, it goes back to its previous size and mandate.”

“Do we really want to give those vipers a say in anything that involves defending the Empire?”

“They already have a say in military budgets,” Ramirus said. “I’ll say I agreed with this when the Emperor mentioned it to me. The Senate is already on the verge of mutiny because of the new laws, this would push them over the edge. The loyalist faction might have the upper hand, but that doesn’t mean they won’t make trouble for us.”

“Isn’t the Senate one of the groups the Praetorians will be keeping an eye on? Is it smart to give those same people a say in their administration?”

“I want to be clear about something,” Ramirus said. “This will not be an organization to spy on anyone, despite what my normal reputation suggests. This is an armed police force, similar to various city guards, but with a wider mandate. While the various city guards do a fine job of keeping the law inside their walls, in between cities things have become less secure. In times past, the legions would patrol the roads between cities, but their numbers have dwindled and they’ve been needed for external threats more than internal ones for a long time now. Robbers and cutthroats have realized this, and things are getting out of control.”

“Which is our way in on this,” Ky said. “The Senate has been asking for the Emperor to do something on this for years, especially those representing the mines and merchants. Right now all shipments get sent in batches protected by private guards, slowing down commerce and costing these men a significant amount of money.”

“So this will save a lot of people a lot of money and help the Empire’s commerce overall, aside from the lives it will save?” Velius asked.

“Yes, but it’s more than that. We’re still a year or more away from being able to put it into effect, but one of the things I am planning is a form of fast, long-distance communication, replacing the much slower messengers, at least inside Rome’s borders. This will require stations along the road, and those stations need to be manned, since intercepting signals will be something new we will have to take into account. The Praetorians are the ones we plan on assigning that task.”

“I’m still not sure I see the need for this,” Velius said, “But I don’t have any specific problem with it, beyond a concern any time the Senate is involved in anything. I do agree that the legions have more things to worry about than taking up policing duties.”

“Next item. As of now, all siege equipment and weapons like catapults are more or less an ad hoc affair. In the 7th Legion, both are commanded at the legion level, with their own chains of command and answering to the Legate. In the 9th, the cavalry answers to Aelius, but siege equipment is handled on the cohort level. This won’t work. Both groups will be getting a series of changes that will alter how they are used, and their organization needs to change to follow suit. All legions will need to set up both groups in the same manner as the 7th, with each being their own specialized command team and legionnaires, not an afterthought to the infantry.”

“When you say changes are coming, are you talking about those smoke pots we fired off during the battle?” Velius asked.

“No. That was a gimmick. The cavalry will be getting the most immediate change. I’ve already given designs to your craftsmen and the senior cavalry officers in the 7th for an extension of the saddle. It’s called stirrups, and it’s simply a leather loop that extends down from the saddle at one end and a metal half-circle on the other end for the rider to put his foot in. Right now, you stay on the animal’s back by squeezing your legs hard against its side and holding on tight. That’s fine for riding around town, but it’s difficult to keep from getting knocked off in combat. With a slightly more secure saddle design, these loops will make it a lot easier to stay in the saddle and avoid getting knocked off. It will also allow the rider to do things like lean further to one side of the animal at a gallop, stand in the saddle and, with some training, even fire a bow with much more accuracy.”

“Right now our horseman mostly perform screening functions and riding down broken lines, with occasional charges on the rear of a phalanx, if they can manage it. If we wanted horse archers, we’d have to train them. That will take time.”

“Yes, and I wasn’t thinking that. Horse archers might work for skirmishers but we aren’t set up to do what the Parthians’s did. They were predominantly mounted cavalry, so they could fight battles that way. Rome’s armies are focused around heavy infantry. While this isn’t the time to radically change Rome’s tactical doctrine, I wouldn’t suggest it even if there was time. My long-range plans make that style of tactic less valuable as we integrate more changes and besides, the Pantheon’s were defeated in the end.”

“So beyond help in maintaining control, which is still a big help, and some additional options for mounted skirmishers, what is the big advantage of this? From the way you presented it, you made it sound like it would have a much more significant impact.”

“It will. The biggest impact will be the cavalry’s ability to maneuver around phalanxes and get themselves in position to flank the infantry blocks without luck, as well as outmaneuver enemy cavalry. Right now cavalry formations charge in more or less straight lines or shallow curves, to make sure riders aren’t unseated. The stirrup makes it possible for the horse to make sharp turns without losing balance. This opens the door up to wheeling cavalry charges, where your men can ride out and sweep in at an angle or cut inside of an opposing cavalry. I’ve drawn up some diagrams and notes for how this is done, but they’ll still take practice. Once the cavalry cohorts for each legion are reformed, they can begin to practice these new maneuvers, so they are familiar with them. I’d also recommend you and your sub-commanders attend some of these practices. Once you understand what they’re capable of, you’ll be able to better deploy your mounted forces to take advantage of the changes.”

Lartius, the seventh legion’s cavalry commander raised a hand. He’d been quiet up to this point, seated behind his Legate as were most the subordinates who’d been invited.

Once Ky indicated he should speak, Lartius said, “I’ve already started looking over some of the notes your man passed out before you got here. If these devices do what you say they can do, I can already think of some alterations to these maneuvers that might give us even more capability.”

“Excellent,” Ky said. “Most of this information I am presenting is from others’ work or theoretical, at least to me. Until I met the Emperor’s daughter and her guards, I hadn’t ever ridden a horse, let alone commanded mounted men in combat. I welcome any input, from any of you, on how to take these ideas and expand them. You have real expertise in the field and will better know how to put these new techniques into practice, especially once you start working with them in training. The first batches of new saddles should be ready soon. Please try these out and make any suggestions of how you think we can improve on them. Perhaps you can get together with the cavalry commanders from the other legions after they have had an opportunity to work with them, and see if you can work out a doctrine for our forces to use.”

“We will do our best, Consul.”

Ky was genuinely surprised with how quickly they were taking the ideas and thinking about improving them, although he shouldn’t have been. He had a bad habit of thinking of Romans as a whole as primitive and needed precise guidance, despite how often he’d been surprised by the specific Romans he’d known who’d shown themselves to be every bit as intelligent and able to adapt as anyone from his time. It was easy to think of primitive people as being something less than people of his time when really the only thing that separated them was technology and science. He needed to stop thinking like that and trust the Romans to make the most of what they were given, if he was going to really make this work.

What he’d said about everything he’d presented being theoretical wasn’t wrong, and it didn’t just apply to the military. He’d been handing out designs and new ideas but he needed to also go back to these people and follow up with them. He needed to be asking their advice on how things were working and if there was anything they saw that should be changed or adapted.

“The last thing that I wanted to discuss is the changes intended for the conscripted forces. As I said at the military council, I still plan on those being used in the upcoming battle, but not as disposable front-line units. Partly because we need all the manpower we can get on civilian and military engineering and production to waste any lives but mostly because it is wasteful and wrong. Instead, I want to begin rotating the conscripts through regular training as archers.”

That got everyone’s attention, although not in a positive way.

“Consul, I’m not sure you understand the time it takes to train an archer,” Velius said. “It takes hundreds of hours for a man to become proficient enough to be useful in battle. We don’t have the time or the manpower to train all of our conscripts as archers.”

“I am aware of that, and I wasn’t speaking of archers as you have now. Some of you know of the new arcuballista I’ve started having the blacksmiths produce. These are the weapons we’ll be training the conscripts to use. As a whole, they’re fairly simple weapons, you point them at what you want to kill, and pull the release mechanism. I know you have something similar now, but these will be far more effective and easier to use. There is some skill at longer ranges, but I’ve included something called a ‘sight,’ which is an adjustable strip of metal that aids the shooter in where to aim. It isn’t perfect, but for massed fire on a large group of men, which we will certainly be facing, it should be enough. It’s why I want them to rotate through training as soon as possible. They need to be minimally familiar with the weapons, drill on how to properly reload and the like. Once you see the first models and have a chance to fire them yourself, I think you’ll see the simplicity behind them.”

“If this works, then we will be able to support our troops, which is good. Archers, however, are no substitute for infantry,” Velius said.

“I know. In the end, it will come to infantry versus infantry. Eventually, I will be able to alter those calculations, but not in time for this battle. We will have advanced knowledge of enemy movements and position, just like the battle outside the walls. Hopefully, we will be able to set favorable conditions to counter their manpower advantage. You should all understand I am not providing sure victory. This will be a difficult thing even with the improvements I am introducing. It’s why I am so desperate to get as many men in our formations as possible.”

“We don’t expect miracles, Consul,” the Emperor said. “I think every man here understands the advantages you’ve given us, and how hopeless our situation would be without them.”

Nods around the table signaled the other’s agreements, but Ky was still conflicted. Lately, the AI had made the argument for retreating to civilizations further from the Carthaginians. It accepted that eventual conflict with them was inevitable, but it believed that running was the most strategic move to keep Ky alive, which was its prime operating objective. Ky had stood firm. Something told him these were the people to put his faith in. He just hoped they weren’t making a mistake putting their faith in him.

♦♦♦

Emperor’s Quarters, Devnum

Lucilla stood at her father’s window and stared out at the palace complex plaza, dark except for the flicker of light from the guard’s torches.

“What troubles you?” her father asked behind her.

“Nothing,” she said softly.

“You forget I’ve known you your entire life girl. Don’t think you can start fooling me now. You’re thinking about him?”

She didn’t ask who her father meant by ‘him’. She’d spent most mornings since noticing the Consul’s morning walks watching for him, waiting to join him. Her father had already commented on her routine more than once, teasing her.

“He’s taking on too much. I’m just concerned for him, that’s all. You’ve said yourself we’ll need him if we’re going to win this war.”

“So your concern is only for the fate of the Empire, is it?”

“What else would it be,” she asked, still not turning to look at her father. “My brother will have to succeed you one day, hopefully a long time from now. I was just hoping there would be an Empire left for him to rule by then.”

“Now you’re not even trying,” he said, coming behind her and putting a hand on one shoulder, turning her around. “Do you think I’m so blind that I don’t see the way you look at him? I wasn’t always an old man, you know.”

“I … It’s not possible. With everything in front of us, he has enough to worry about without me distracting him.”

“Speaking as someone who has had a lot of responsibilities, a partner is never a burden or a distraction. I can’t tell you the number of times just having your mother with me helped me through tough moments. Besides, I don’t think he’ll see it as a distraction.”

“You think so?”

“He’s different from us, no doubt, so he may not respond how you expect him to, but I’ve seen his eyes watching you when he thinks you aren’t looking.”

“What should I do?”

“Sometimes I forget how sheltered you are, always in the palace around people who serve us. You’ve missed a lot. Just be honest with him. You’d be surprised how far that goes.”

“I’ll think about it,” she said, turning and looking back out into the night.

Chapter 26

“Commander,” the AI’s voice prompted. “This is a repeat of your scheduled wake-up time.”

Ky sat up slowly, rubbing his face. In the years since he’d first gotten his implant and been assigned to flight school, Ky had always gotten up at first notice from the AI. It wasn’t like the alarms he’d set as a young man, training in the batch processing center. The AI did more than simply tell you it was time to get up. Tied into his central nervous system, it actually began waking his body up. The brain was still too complex for the implants to directly interact with his brain to the point of actually waking him up, but he’d always found the audible warning inside his skull and the feeling of his body physically waking up was enough to bring him out of sleep and alert almost instantly.

The last few weeks, however, that process had been slowing down.

“Commander …”

“I know,” he said, predicting the warning that the AI had given him the last three mornings.

“Commander, continued avoidance of full sleep periods is not advised. Although your medical nanites are capable of maintaining your physical systems, numerous studies have shown this is not compensation for adequate rest. Research suggests more than two months at half rest will result in permanent degradation of physical abilities, regardless of system enhancements.”

“Remind me when we hit two months then,” Ky said.

“Commander, two months is not a firm guideline, simply an approximation and only for permanent damage. Temporary physical and mental deterioration happens much more rapidly, possibly leading to …”

“God Damnit, Shut UP!” Ky yelled at the software.

That alone should have been a warning to Ky that he was losing his grip. He’d trained for a long time to operate with the AI on a silent, almost sub-conscious level. The last thing a squadron of pilots needed was everyone talking to their implants aloud, filling the comms with chatter, during high-stress moments. Flight Command worked hard to train all of its pilots to keep all conversation with their implants on a purely internal level, regardless of the situation they found themselves in.

This was yet another of his finely trained responses that had started slipping over the past several weeks. That was probably a sign that the AI was right, but there was nothing he could do about it, at least not now.

“Sir, are you alright?” Sellic said, sticking his head inside the doorway.

“No, I’m fine Sellic. Sorry if I startled you.”

Sellic looked around the room once more, most likely to confirm to himself that Ky was, in fact, alone, before casting a worried look at his superior. Ky waved him off, waiting for the man to close the door, before heaving another sigh and standing to stretch.

He’d been up very late with the commanders, answering intricate questions and going over everything multiple times. The men weren’t questioning his plans, since the Emperor had clearly already approved everything, but what he’d asked of them was essentially a top to bottom reorganization of the system the Empire had operated under for hundreds of years. It required more than just handing out new organizational charts.

He had yet another busy day ahead of him, including meeting with the leading doctors in Devnum to try and fix some of the health crises facing the Empire, following up with the blacksmiths on the prototypes they’d started working on so he could get the production runs approved and, most importantly, the planned votes on the first sets of new legislation. While the first two things were important, the vote would ultimately determine if Rome would survive through the spring.

All of that meant sleeping in wasn’t possible. He’d accepted Lucilla’s and the AI’s suggestion that he needed to delegate more authority, but that would still take time. He’d just have to hope the handful of hours of sleep he got each night would continue to hold him together for now.

Collecting the notes he’d made for the doctors, after the meeting with the commanders finally broke up Ky left the palace. He cast one glance at the plaza, wishing he had time for a quiet stroll before diving back into the grind. Those peaceful few minutes he’d been taking each morning were the only thing Ky felt was keeping him sane, but he’d been too slow getting up, and had slept through the time he’d planned for his morning walk. The AI would probably suggest that sleep was more important than a slow walk, but Ky still missed it for his sanity. Especially since Lucilla often met him in the mornings, and he found he enjoyed their brief conversations, feeling much more centered after them.

Ky spared one last glance and then turned to his goal for the morning, the Collegium Medici at the center of Devnum, not far from the palace itself. Set up by Germanicus’s father, the Collegium Medici was designed as a place of learning for the more specialized fields. Most training in Rome happened through apprenticeships rather than schooling as it was in modern times. The only fields where people went to study were pure sciences and medicine. From what Ky could find out, Rome was still at the cutting edge of both. Partly because the Carthaginians had destroyed the other civilizations that could have competed with them and party because the Emperor’s family had always placed a focus on them.

It’s why Rome managed to be as healthy as it was, comparatively speaking. From what they knew from refugees, spies, and gossip, the Carthaginians put little effort into public health or learning, relying on brute manpower and willingness to accept high attrition to accomplish any goal.

While Ky knew that Rome was advanced when compared to its contemporaries, from a modern society’s perspective, Rome’s medical sciences were abhorrent. Bleeding, the taking of wildly poisonous substances, and the belief that most maladies were caused by capricious gods, made Ky wonder how anyone survived to adulthood. If it hadn’t been for the military and political necessities, this would have been one of his first priorities after deciding to stay.

He found the men he was meeting gathered in a small, indoor teaching amphitheater. He’d been warned by the Emperor that these men were incredibly proud, to the point of arrogance, but even with that warning, he hadn’t expected the sheer pompousness he encountered, led by Clovius. Ky had met the man only once, by the Emperor’s bedside, cutting small gashes in the man’s arm while he died of septicemia.

“Consul,” Clovius said as soon as Ky arrived. “We appreciate that you have been able to assist some of the more mundane areas of learning, but this is a house of learning. We will not be swayed by assurances that you know better, only by the evidence of our own studies.”

“What about those times when the evidence could be misleading if you don’t understand that the thing that seems to be happening isn’t the thing you’re seeing.”

“I’m not sure I understand what you mean.”

“You boil your water before drinking it. Why?”

Clovius didn’t answer. He may not have been as smart as he thought he was, but he was smart enough to realize Ky was setting a trap for him. Ky wondered why the man cared more about being proven wrong than actually being wrong, but thankfully, not all of the gathered men were cut from the same cloth.

“Because water straight from the cistern can sometimes cause a loosening of the bowels or fevers. If boiled to half, the unwholesome nature of the water is corrected,” one of the other men said.

“By why does it correct it? What causes the loose bowels and fever when you drink unboiled water? Why is unboiled water safe when used to dilute wine?”

“It just is. This is the nature of water. When it is created through rain or pulled from the ground, it is tainted and must be cleaned before use.”

“All water is tainted? What about when you find a natural spring. If someone drinks from that spring directly, do they have the same problems?”

“Sometimes, although not as often.”

“Why? If water is, by its nature, tainted even as it falls from the sky, then why is the water from a spring sometimes already corrected?”

The men began looking around at one another, unsure of how to answer his question.

“This is just one of the things that you know, but you don’t know why. The problem is, right now, the why isn’t something you can see. One day, you will be able to. If I’m successful in getting some of the inventions I am recommending, it may be in your lifetimes. I can explain the reasons why these things happen, but for now, you’ll have to choose to believe me and only accept the solutions I give based on the fact that they work.”

“I don’t …” Clovius started to say before being interrupted by one of the other men.

This was why Ky had decided to open things by presenting a puzzle and offering a solution. From his previous experience with the man, he already knew Clovius wouldn’t be receptive to anything he had to say, and the Emperor had already warned Ky that Clovius held a lot of power in the sciences community. If given the chance, most of the men would end up deferring to him. The thing that Ky had hoped was that, as men of science, even primitive ones, their curiosity would be stronger than their deference.

“Then why does boiling or diluting the water make it safer to drink?”

“You all understand there are smaller and smaller forms of life. You’ve seen insects so small you can barely see them, correct?”

The men all nodded, unsure of where he was going but still willing to listen, except for Clovius and a few men standing near him, who were just staring at Ky stoically, refusing to respond.

“Those insects are not the smallest forms of life, though. They are just the smallest you can see. There are even smaller forms of life, so tiny millions of them can fit into a single drop of water. There are special tools that can be used to observe them, but it requires the ability to produce a very specific form of glass. This is one of the things I intend to introduce to your craftsmen, but it will take time for them to learn how to properly make them. Until then, all I can do is describe these tiny life forms.”

“We will have to take your word for it,” the man said.

“I don’t. We’re men of science, not priests. I’m not going to stand here and listen to this nonsense. Small animals indeed.”

Pulling his toga up, Clovis and several men stormed out of the building. Ky was happy to see that the majority of the men were still there, listening intently.

“There are a couple of these small forms of life that can make people sick. The first is kind of like I described, a tiny form of life almost like an animal, although much simpler, that we call bacteria. They do what animals do; eat, defecate and procreate. There are millions of types of bacteria and some of them produce chemicals that are toxic to our bodies. If you ingest them, they can do things like cause the loosened bowels like you mentioned or even destroy flesh.”

“If they are so small we can’t see them, how do we keep from ingesting them and how does boiling the water keep them from harming us?”

“They’re just like us, in that they can be harmed or killed. The ones in water are killed by the heat of the boiling, although they’re also susceptible to some chemical mixtures, such as alcohol, which also kills them. These aren’t the only small animal that we can ingest from water, however boiling it tends to kill all of the other ones as well.”

“Are these creatures only found in water?”

“No, they’re everywhere, but there are things you can do to keep from ingesting them, such as washing your hands with soap. Of course, that isn’t the only way bacteria can enter your system. Cuts, for example, must be carefully cleaned and kept free from dirt or anything that would carry bacteria.”

“Open wounds sometimes fester, which often leads to the death of the wounded man.”

“Yes, and that is one of the reasons why. If the bacteria reach the bloodstream, it causes the blood to become poisoned, which can quickly kill a man.”

“When possible, we sometimes treat a wound with honey or vinegar, which can keep the wound from festering. Does that kill your …”

“Bacteria, and yes, it can. Not all of them, but they both have anti-bacterial properties, which is why it sometimes helps. There are other things, certain molds that, if collected and processed properly, can be taken as a medicine to clean up the infection before it becomes life-threatening.”

“Can you show us these molds and how to process them?”

“Yes, I plan on doing that. I should be clear; this isn’t a cure-all for all diseases. There are other tiny types of life that also cause death, including most of the plagues you’ve heard of before. There isn’t a medicine for those - at least, not something you will be able to make for a long time - but there are things you can do to keep safe from them. Not eating spoiled foods, washing your hands with soap, not touching or breathing the same air as someone infected can avoid some of the spread, although it doesn’t help a person who’s already infected.”

“Can you teach us how to identify these small animals?”

“Yes. My people know them as germs. I’ve written up some notes for you already, and I will begin writing up more. I want to be clear this is just a starting place. Clean water, cleaning your body with soap and washing your hands regularly, avoiding spoiled foods, keeping the sick isolated, and coverings over the nose and mouths of those who have to check on them. It won’t cure everyone and it won’t keep all of those who become sick from dying, but it will save many.”

“Show us these notes.”

Ky spent several hours with the physicians, walking them through everything he’d written down so far. Most of it barely passed basic hygiene and simple first aid, but considering the prevalent theory to this point - being that disease was caused by the stars or by angry gods - it was a start.

He didn’t try to teach them more advanced concepts, those would have to wait. Things like the scientific method required a change in the way people thought, something that didn’t happen in his history until the Renaissance, when observation and methodical testing took over from superstition-focused thinking.

Ky left the doctors arguing among themselves on the best way to implement some of the changes he’d been suggesting. He probably could have made more progress if he’d stayed, but improving the medical knowledge was just one of the things he had to worry about.

He’d already arranged for the major blacksmiths in the city to gather back together again and show him the prototypes he’d given them plans for a few days before. It had only been a few days since he’d ordered the designs, but it was time to plant the winter harvests, and he wanted the new plow at least for the demonstration.

They met at the same place as the last time and as before, Hortensius was already holding court by the time he arrived.

“Sorry I’m late,” Ky said.

“You were with the philosophers. We’re happy you managed to escape at all. If they had their way, you would be bones and dust by the time they finished lecturing on one of their obsessions.”

“They do like to talk, yes,” Ky said.

He actually thought most Romans didn’t give the physicians enough credit. Of course, with the current level of science available, they hurt their patients more than helped them, but Ky hoped he’d be able to change that.

“Were you able to finish the prototypes?”

“Partially. The plow is done as you requested, and seeing it done we already have some notion of how this will help. The iron was a bit of a problem, but I spoke with one of the foundry owners today before he left to return to his forges. These heavier iron plows will work for now until we can get some of the steel he was describing to me.”

“That might take some time. Most of that steel is going to be allotted to military construction for the time being.”

“Yes, which is where we’ve run into issues. The current material we have isn’t good enough for the crossbows. We crafted the pieces, but they’d don’t have the stretching strength you asked for, and won’t until we get better materials.”

“I made sure to tell them this was a priority. The Emperor has already put in a large order specifically allotted for the crossbows.”

“Yes, he told me as much. We still fashioned up some that will work in the meantime. They will not have either the penetration or the range you wanted, but they should be enough for you to begin training.”

“Excellent. I’d hoped you might do that. Hortensius, could I speak to you for a moment alone?”

“Certainly.”

Ky led them outside, just clear of the building. He’d been thinking about Lucilla’s advice, and Hortensius had just made his decision significantly easier.

“Hortensius, I know you already have a lot to deal with, but I need your help.”

“Anything, Consul.”

“There are a lot of things left to take care of before the Carthaginians arrive, and I need people who can lead some of these projects. Your decision to make temporary prototypes was an excellent one, and tells me you’re one of the people I need.”

“Consul, I have a lot …”

“I know, and I promise you won’t be doing it as charity. The Emperor will back me on this, but we need you. I know you have several enterprises that demand your attention, but none of them will matter if the Carthaginians burn the city to the ground.”

Hortensius looked thoughtful for a moment before saying, “What would you need?”

“I need you to manage handing out the contracts for these projects. I will give you detailed plans and, of course, answer any questions you need answered, but you would manage the production schedule.”

“Can I use my own forges for these?”

“Yes, but not just yours. While what you have is impressive, it won’t be enough to meet the volumes we need. We also need to spread the wealth out across the other merchants. I believe you’re a smart man Hortensius. Smart enough to understand there will be much more money if you play this fairly, rather than trying to get as much as you can as fast as you can.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t appeal to my sense of honor.”

“I do think you’re an honorable man, and you’ll do as the Emperor and I request, but I think you’re an even better businessman.”

“Fine, fine, you’ve sold me. I hope the Emperor knows this will cost him.”

“It’s worth it if you can get the weapons we need in time.”

“I’ll do what I can.”

Returning to the others, Ky said, “Now, I brought someone with me that I want to show this plow to. Senator Opilio, please come in.”

After a demonstration and a fair number of questions from Opilio, Ky was glad to hand everything off to Hortensius. They were nearing the end of the Senate afternoon session when Taenaris planned to introduce the surprise vote on the new anti-slaver and tax laws, as well as several additional, smaller laws to address military pay and the creation of the Praetorians.

During Silo’s move to sneak through legislation to block the anti-slavery law, Taenaris had called in every Senator they’d aligned to their side. Although not all of them had made it on time then, they’d still been sent for, in case Silo tried it again, hoping to catch Ky away from the forum. It had been the Emperor’s idea to turn Silo’s own strike against him.

Silo had been right to be concerned by the coalition Ky had been putting together. By their headcount, if they got all of their supporting Senators in for the vote, they would have the numbers to pass it. Taenaris was still concerned that Silo might find a way to somehow delay the vote, perhaps indefinitely. That was when the Emperor had the idea to do to Silo exactly what Silo had done to them, by offering the legislation without preamble.

Taenaris had sent word for the Senators not already in attendance to gather and stand ready to join only during today’s final session, when he was scheduled to have the floor. Ky and the Senators were to appear at that time, when Taenaris would begin introducing the legislation. By law, once a bill began deliberation, a quorum was established, even if Senators then left, since the session would have already started.

With the deadline looming, Taenaris had also spent the past two days working on some of the neutral Senators, since it was always possible some of the men who’d agreed to vote with the loyalists would in fact turn and vote with the opposition at the final moment.

The Senators had gathered near the treasury, to make their grand entrance, with Ky and Opilio being the last ones to arrive. As soon as he showed up, Taenaris’s aide hustled them to the forum, cutting off any pleasantries. Opilio and his group hung back until the very last minute, talking amongst themselves. Ky trusted that Taenaris’s aide would make sure they followed along and lead the rest of the Senators in a procession to the forum.

Ky could hear Taenaris speaking as they climbed, on reaching the doors to the Senate, he pulled them open. The volume of chatter among the benches increased until men on Silo’s side began shouting curses, quickly realizing the fix was in.

“I object to this,” Silo said, standing up, yelling at the Princeps Senatus, who oversaw the sessions when a Consul wasn’t present.

Unfortunately for Silo, the Consul was now present.

“Rejected,” Ky said, taking his seat. “Continue Taenaris.”

“This will not stand. You cannot be allowed to introduce new legislation when …”

“I know I am new to this Senator, but I believe you did just this very thing standing exactly where Taenaris is standing now, just two days ago. How was it legal then but now it won’t stand?”

Silo glowered, but didn’t reply.

“That’s what I thought. Please continue, Taenaris.”

“Thank you, Consul. As I was saying, we will now begin the presentation of several new pieces of legislation that the Emperor has requested of us and we believe are imperative for the survival of our Empire.”

“A point of order, Senator,” Senator Kaeso said, exactly as he and Taenaris had scripted out the day before. “Because of the hour and the imperative nature of these new laws, I ask for the time of debate to be removed, in favor of only a reading of the bills followed by a vote.”

“Seconded,” called out Opilio from the farming block, who’d arrived just that morning.

“Wait,” Silo shouted, but Ky ignored him.

“Senator Taenaris, I believe you have a motion proposed and seconded. All those who vote for?”

The senators on the loyalist block shouted loud ‘Ayes’ while those on the opposition side’s ‘Nos’ were drowned out. Ky noticed the center neutral faction was mostly empty, and several of the men there were siding with the loyalists, despite not taking an official stance. Taenaris had clearly been making progress over the past two days.

“Passed by majority,” Ky said. “Taenaris, please begin the reading of the bills.”

They started with the Praetorian Guard expansion legislation, which was the least controversial of the lot. It passed by majority with most of the neutral senators voting for it. More interestingly, Silo and his block abstained. Ky imagined they thought that they would eventually manage to wrangle power from the Emperor when they could use the guard to maintain control once they got it.

That was one of the possible dangers of the expanded role for the guard, but the Emperor had agreed it was worth the risk.

That was, by far the easiest of the legislation. Next was the legislation covering military funding, specifically the banning of bounty pay and the establishment of a monthly stipend for soldiers, paid for by the Empire itself. It also put the burden of paying to equip soldiers from the individual legionnaire to the Empire itself, along with the establishment of an actual quartermaster’s corps for the legions, to keep track of that equipment.

This the opposition did vote against, although from what Ky could tell, only because it’s what they wanted to be seen as being in opposition. Beyond that and tradition, the only reason Ky could think for them to all oppose the changes was to keep the favor of the Legates who had not agreed to the military shake-up. The neutral senators in majority voted again with the loyalists, probably prompted by a fear of the coming Carthaginians.

Those were the easiest two pieces of legislation. Next was the second most controversial law to be passed and covered the changing of taxation laws. The farmers still didn’t love the idea, but they accepted the possibility at least that it could be more profitable for them in the long run. They may have voted less enthusiastically than the other senators on the loyalist side, but they voted for it, which is what mattered. Silo’s group was particularly loud in their Nos, which, when a vote was close, could still force down a vote.

Ky found it odd that the Senate voted by shouting Aye or No, and the loudest group got the vote. If the Princeps Senatus, who was tasked with deciding which vote was louder when the Consul wasn’t present, or the Consul himself when he was, couldn’t tell which was louder, they’d just keep shouting until it was possible to tell which was louder. Ky thought that it was possible then for the Consul just to lie and decided which vote was louder, but maybe since the Consul could also veto any legislation, that wasn’t a concern for most Romans.

In this case, it wasn’t close enough to need anyone throwing the vote. The last was the anti-slavery law. It was more complex the any of the others, filled with caveats and provisions for when and how slaves gained their freedom, reimbursement to the original owner for slaves owned before the law went into effect, and rules against Roman citizens owning slaves captured after the law was passed. The second section of the law, which governed how captured soldiers were treated, offering imprisonment until repatriation or a term of service in exchange for citizenship similar to, but less harsh than, the service required of slaves seeking liberation.

Ky had wanted to outright ban slavery altogether, but the Emperor had counseled that they only have it apply to Roman citizens, which wouldn’t close the door on possible alliances with other governments against the Carthaginians. While Ky disliked that wording, he accepted that changes like this happened in stages, and the Emperor had a point.

All of the law took Taenaris time to read out, and the longer he read, the more worried Ky got. He’d expected Silo and their faction to storm out at some time, since they had to know they didn’t have the numbers. The fact that Silo was there, and looking worryingly calm, made Ky nervous. Although he was certain they’d sprung Silo in his own trap, the man was crafty, and might have had a contingency plan for this type of move.

Taenaris was focused on reading out the law and didn’t seem nervous, and all of the senators on the loyalist side were equally focused, since they expected the law to pass and understood that the more they knew about the law, the better they could take advantage of it.

Silo’s face broke into a slight smile as Taenaris finished the reading and the Princeps Senatus called for the vote. He made eye contact with Opilio and then Ky, his expression becoming more confident as he stared. Ky stared back, keeping his face neutral.

Opilio and his farming block paused for a second, making direct eye contact with Silo, before joining the loyalist’s chorus. Silo’s grin vanished instantly, his face going to surprise and then fury. He gave the Senator one final glare before standing and storming out of the forum, his faction in his wake.

“What just happened?” Taenaris asked, walking to the center of the floor.

“I’m sorry we didn’t have time to warn you. Silo made a move while you were with the blacksmiths, offering to vote for a wish list of farming block provisions if Opilio would quietly switch sides. Instead, the Senator came to me at the blacksmith’s this afternoon and negotiated for some additional concessions to stay with us.”

“What concessions?”

“Most are minor, except that when reimbursing for slaves, it will be at the top rate for the highest-paid slave during a repayment period, regardless of the slave’s current physical condition. It will make this whole endeavor significantly more expensive, but I think it will be worth it.”

“Silo has a bad habit of being too smart for his own good,” Opilio said. “He’s willing to do anything for a win, and assumes everything starts new each time. Several of the items he offered were things he’s opposed almost as much as he opposed the anti-slavery laws. He’s played us for a fool before, making concessions and then not following through. I did not trust him to come through now. Taenaris, on the other hand, is usually good on a deal, even if he doesn’t like it. I’d rather a sure victory than a possible one.”

“I also gave the Senator a demonstration of the new plow. I’d promised to deliver new techniques and technologies that would end up making him wealthier, even if he had to start paying for his labor.”

“I was impressed. I couldn’t see it at first, since the blade design would make it harder for the animals we have here to pull against the soil, but the added weight of the blade more than made up for it. It will require two-horse teams instead of a single horse, but we should be able to plow a field in half the time, and dig in deeper, which gets us to some of the lower layers of the topsoil.”

“There is more where that came from. I will be out in a few days to discuss more planting techniques. Thank you for staying loyal.”

“I’m loyal to my coin purse. As long as you keep that heavy and hold your word, we’ll stay with you.”

“He’s always so honest it makes my teeth hurt,” Taenaris said.

“I’m a farmer, you’re a politician. One of us works for a living.”

“You’re …”

“Gentleman, remember we’re on the same side now. We still have a lot to do and I don’t expect Silo to take all this sitting down. We haven’t heard the last from him, yet. Until the demonstration, at least, keep your men at hand, Senator.”

“As you say, Consul.”

Chapter 27

A banging on his door woke Ky just as the sun came up. They’d worked late into the night again, sending out recruiters into both the prison camp outside the walls and to across the city and its outskirts, looking for slaves to sign up for the legion.

They’d all agreed that the sooner they got these new men into training, the better. It took time to make a legionnaire and they had only four months at the most before the Carthaginians began their march on Devnum. Ky knew they’d continue to get men from further out regions as word of the new laws passed, but they didn’t have time to get everyone together before they started training.

It wasn’t as difficult as Ky had first worried. The Emperor had already started planning for this as soon as Ky started rallying support. Money to pay the first groups of slaves had been set aside and word to the owners had already been sent out. As soon as the vote happened, the entire Seventh Legion was broken into squads, and sent throughout Devnum and the surrounding region, signing up slaves and escorting them to the training grounds.

They’d worked through the night and Ky was hopeful they’d manage to bring in two to three thousand slaves, ready for training, with perhaps another thousand prisoners who’d decided they didn’t want to return to Carthage.

As Ky rode over the ridge and got his first glimpse of the camps, he realized he’d been wrong. Massively wrong. The camp he’d seen, with its lines of empty tents and training fields had been expanded in all directions, and every bit of it filled.

“How many?” Ky asked, a sense of awe in his voice.

“Eight thousand, Consul,” Velius said.

“Eight thousand, seven hundred and a third, plus or minus a hundred, Commander.”

“How did you manage this?”

“The Emperor prepared them well and your senators were persuasive about the need for them, but honestly, it was mostly the calendar.”

“The calendar?”

“Yes. Winter harvests are smaller than the summer harvests. The farmers tend to lose money through the winter months and most sold off slaves, waiting to buy new ones until the planting season started in the spring. Slaves may be unpaid labor, Consul, but they aren’t free labor. The farmers still pay to feed and house them, at least to the levels where they won’t die, which costs money. Worse, since most farmers were under the same pressure, if they did sell slaves, they’d do it for less than they bought them for, hoping to make up the difference in productivity from the spring through the fall.”

“Now the Emperor is offering to pay them full value for their slaves and take them off the farmer’s hands, with a promise of lower taxes after the next planting season and guaranteed purchases of the planters stocks through the winter and into next year to feed those slaves they would have had to feed on their own. So, they make money on the slaves and on the food they would have had to feed those slaves. It’s a good deal.”

“They all signed up on their own though, right? I’d made it clear to the Emperor we didn’t want to draft unwilling men.”

“Yes. We instructed the centurions in charge of the squads to question each petitioner before signing them up. Do you blame them? As things stood, they had no chance of freedom, ever. Now, they know if they can survive, they will not only be free, but citizens with a payment they can use to start their new life. Honestly, we could have gotten more if more farmers would have been ready to agree.”

“We’ll get more once the new tools start getting sold. We’ve made all of the merchants agree that the new plows and other farming instruments being introduced can only go to farms that have sold off their slaves. Once the farmers who didn’t see the difference in productivity, they’ll sell.”

“Can you handle this many men?” Ky asked.

“Maybe. We’ll have to expand and use men from the Third Legion to supplement the ones taken from the Seventh as a training cadre.”

“What about the Ninth?”

“It’s what you see ringing the camp. Most of these men are going to take the opportunity for what it is and will fight, some might even make good soldiers. There’ll be a fair number of them, though, that agreed just to get away from their masters, and are thinking about running, or taking up arms and freeing themselves here and now.”

“Surely you haven’t handed out arms?”

“No, and any they’re given for training will be taken back when the session is done, but the trouble makers will be looking for a way to start something. Once they’re not altogether like this, and mixed in with the regulars, the men in their units will keep them under control until they integrate or are gotten rid of. Until that happens though, we want to keep enough of a force around them to maintain control. With this many men, things could get out of hand, fast.”

“Makes sense. What are those camps over there?”

“It isn’t just camps. It’s mostly training grounds. We’re rotating through men who’ve started signing up to join the guard and citizens who’ll make up the conscript archers and putting both through training.”

“We have enough arcuballistæ for that?”

“We’re starting with the ones we have, with minor modifications, we can make them close enough to your design to allow the men to get a feel for the function, if not the range. They might not be able to work on accuracy, but we’ve started drilling on synchronized loading and firing, as you suggested.”

“Good, Good. Talk to Hortensius about getting the first prototypes in their hands. We don’t have a lot of time to run them through training multiple times, and we have a lot of men to train.”

“I’ve already spoken with him. The first shipments of the new material should leave the northern forges next week and be here the week after. By his count, we should have the first prototypes in maybe three weeks.”

“That knocks off almost a third of our training time.”

“I know, but it’s the best we can manage.”

“Well, do what you can. How’s the guard coming?”

“Slowly, but as expected. We’ve set the bar high for what we’re looking for. As you said, it’s not intended to be a military force, so we’re trying to find men with more than just skill at arms.”

“Level-headed, that’s the key. They need to be able to stop trouble, but they also need to know how to keep it from starting. We can’t waste men getting slaughtered for brawling or simple disagreements.”

“They know what they’re looking for.”

“Good, good. Well, let’s get to work training these people. Hopefully, there will be more coming behind them.”

The Legates slapped fists to chests and turned their horses away, until Ky called out.

“Velius, Aelius, please stay back. You can send the rest of your men on and catch up with them.”

The men looked confused, but obeyed, returning their mounts back in front of Ky.

“I haven’t been to the First or Second Legion’s camps yet. Are they interacting with your men at all, or staying separated?”

“They moved to the other side of the city, Consul,” Velius said. “They have made it clear we are not welcome either, but the men have been traveling back and forth, as units do when in proximity.”

“Doing what?”

“Trading supplies, trophies, war stories, drinking. Men who served in other legions and moved, visiting old friends, that sort of thing. You must remember, most of these men spend all their time with their comrades and, umm, avail themselves of the same camp followers, for years. Sometimes, they just want a change of scenery.”

“Do you know what they’re up to when they visit? Do Eborius or Pius know what your men are up to?”

“No, at least we don’t. While I can’t speak for either of the other legates, it seems unlikely. They have several thousand men under arms, tracking a handful of visiting legionaries would be a poor use of their time.”

“How are the improvements to your camps coming?”

The men looked at each other, unsure of where this was going.

“Well. We’ve moved the latrines away, as you said, and keep the water separate and drinking water is boiled. We’ve improved the meat and bread, looking for the signs you described. The cost of provisioning the men has risen as we predicted.”

“The sick?”

“As instructed. Those with fever or sweats are separated from their fellows and any who treat them stay separate from the rest of the legion.”

“How’s the men’s health?”

“Improving. Cases of the grip have decreased noticeably.”

“Good. I want you to talk to some of the men you know well. Men you know can be discreet or wily. Have them invite any of the men they know from the First or Second Legions to come visit. Give them tours; point out the better conditions of food and the decreased instances of disease.”

“You want them to sell the men of the other legions on how much camp life has changed, Consul?” Aelius asked, understanding what Ky was thinking. “Are they doing anything else? You understand that it is considered an insult to ask men to switch from one legion to another. It will increase tensions.”

“Don’t have them offer anything. I just want as many of the men from their legions to see the improved conditions as possible. That’s it.”

“I don’t understand, Consul,” Velius said.

“That’s fine. I promise you I’m not asking either of you to do anything dishonorable. I just want the word to spread of how much better the conditions in your camps are.”

“I’ve heard there is an outbreak of the grip in the First, Consul. The men will notice, and it will cause unrest in those legions.”

“Will it?” Ky said, turning his horse away from the two men. “I think I will ride through the camps and see them for myself, perhaps talk to some of the men. I will speak to both of you later.”

Ky spent several hours with the legionnaires of the three legions still open to him, as well as talking to the men trying out for the guard. For men in camp, he found the majority of them in good spirits. Word of the change in pay had spread and the men had seen the benefits instantly.

Booty was good, but it only came after victories, which had been few and far between over the past several years. What victories they’d had had been mostly against the north men, whose homes were little more than hovels and who considered owning a single goat as having great wealth.

When they were in camp, which usually meant the entire winter, they got little more than food as payment. Within the month they would start seeing monthly payments. They also wouldn’t be responsible for the cost of their equipment, which meant some men whose current armor was far from satisfactory could get it replaced or repaired without wondering how they would pay for it.

They’d also heard from where the new rules that had clearly led to less sickness in camp had come as well as the improved quality of the rations. Several groups cheered him as he rode along.

He’d also witnessed the training, both of the conscript crossbowmen and the ex-slaves. Overall, it was well done, but there were areas he saw for improvement. The biggest one was how the trainers were treating the ex-slaves and rehabilitated prisoners. The best were belligerent and looked down on them, the worst resorted to open beatings when the men didn’t respond well enough.

Ky had words with the Legates about it, but he wanted to make sure the behavior would stop before he went back to the city and left them to the training. Poor treatment was sure to make the men feel more like the janissaries of Carthage instead of true members of the legions, the slaves especially. They’d been told they were freed from service. That was an easy thing to hear, but much harder for many of them to believe. Beatings made that even harder, and if they felt like slaves still when the legions marched, they would cause problems. Ky needed them fighting for Rome, believing that their full effort was in their best interest, not fighting to avoid the master’s whip.

He was just going to camp with the Seventh, until Auspex made a good suggestion. All of the men had pride in their units, and wanted to think that theirs was the best legion in the Empire. Constantly showing favoritism to one legion was picking a winner, which helped the Seventh, but harmed the morale of the other two. Auspex suggested that Ky always stay with a different legion, rotating through, which was good, but not as good as his second suggestion.

“Consul, the men spend a lot of their day just counting time. We give them training and duties, but camp life can still get boring. Instead of just picking either the Third or the Ninth to camp with, why not have them compete for it.”

“Like what?”

“They already hold wrestling competitions, as well as spear throwing, strength competitions, and the like. We can pick, say, five competitions and have each legion nominate a champion for that. The legion with the most wins gets the honor of hosting you at their camp for the evening. It will be good for the men’s morale.”

“We can do that. Do we know where it will be?”

“We’ll set up in the field over there, between the Seventh and the Third Legions. Neutral ground. Give us an hour to spread the word and set it up. I’m sure the men not on duty will want to attend.”

“Just make sure that the men on guard around the training camps don’t get distracted. This law has only just been passed; we don’t need our enemies to start having reasons to say they were right.”

“I’ll make sure the men know what’s at stake,” Velius said.

Ky took the time to continue riding through the lines, talking to soldiers. In a way, this felt more comfortable than anything else he’d done since crashing on this version of Earth. They might be using swords and spears instead of auto-cannons and plasma mounts, but soldiers in camp were still soldiers in camp, and it reminded him of his time in the barracks, with his squadmates.

By the time a runner caught up with retrieving him, Ky was the most relaxed he’d felt in weeks. He realized he should be doing this more, getting out of the palace and its stuffy rooms and out here, with the soldiers.

Ky was almost smiling as he reached the small field set out by the legions, with tents and seats in the center of one side, clearly meant for him. Ky was surprised, however, to see they were already occupied. Lucilla was already in the tent, having had a second stool added next to the one set up for Ky to observe the contest.

“My lady, I’m surprised to see you here,” he said, dismounting his horse and handing the reigns to one of his men.

“I heard you were out staying here tonight to be with the men and I thought I’d come and visit for a bit, only to realize you’d arranged for some entertainment.”

“The Legates made an argument that the legionaries could use some fun and that they all wanted to fight for the ‘honor’ of my staying with them for the evening. It’s ridiculous of course, but I understand the need for soldiers to blow off steam.”

“It’s not ridiculous at all. These men, well, many of them, fought with you outside the city gates. Under your command, they had the greatest victory since Cannae. They worship you, Consul.”

“That, I don’t want.”

Lucilla rolled her eyes, “I did not mean it that way. I just meant that they hold you in the highest esteem, and want to feel that you favor them.”

“Well, I’m just happy to be here. They’re all good men and I’ve truly enjoyed spending the day with them.”

“I saw your new recruits have started training. How is that going?”

“It’s too early to tell.”

“I guess that’s true. Be careful though, I wouldn’t put it past Silo to have his own men slip in and foment revolt.”

“We’ve thought of that and the training cadre and camp guards are on alert.”

“Good, it seems like you have everything under control here, unlike some of the other camps.”

“You mean the First and Second Legions?”

“Yes. I rode out there this morning, ostensibly to visit the legates and offer them my welcome, since I did not see them before they stormed out. Father thought it might help breed a little goodwill.”

“I somehow doubt it. They are set against change as it was, but Silo has been whispering in their ears.”

“Yes, they were not all that pleased to see me. That, however, wasn’t the notable part. It seems disease has struck their camps. The healer’s tents were full when I rode past.”

“Velius mentioned that earlier, apparently there is a case of dysentery going through them.”

“Dysentery?”

“I think you call it the grips. I asked them to start having their men bring friends from those legions over to visit.”

“To show them what they could have?”

“Exactly.”

Ky had been concerned at first that this competition would be like those he’d seen at the arena. Bloody, wasteful events that Ky would prefer to never have to see again. It reminded him too much how little the people of this time valued life, throwing it away for entertainment.

This, however, was pure enjoyment. It was still violent, as the men who competed did so seriously, but everyone understood it was in fun. There was some blood, but only superficially with no death and no maiming. The men wrestled, threw spears, and fired bows. The crowds booed and cheered at the victors and, in one particularly close wrestling match, gasped en masse when the much smaller man suddenly reversed his opponent, climbed him like a tree snake, and choked him until the larger man tapped out.

By the end, everyone’s mood was uplifted, even those men from the legions that ultimately lost. Ky made sure to go out and congratulate both the victors and the losers in every competition, saying a few words about their strength or bravery or skill at arms. It was well into the evening by the time they finished, the last competitions happening under torchlight, but Ky wasn’t even tired. Lately, he’d barely been able to drag himself back from whichever meeting he’d been locked in to write more notes before passing out, but tonight, he still felt awake and buoyant.

“They rushed off to set up my tent and show everyone their victory.”

“Grown warriors are running around like excited children. It does the heart good.”

“If we walk slowly, I bet they will have it set up by the time we arrive. Did you want to accompany me, maybe have a glass of wine for a bit before you return to the palace?”

One of her attendants made a small gasp behind Ky, confusing him. The sudden silence of the attendants and soldiers around them told him he’d misstepped, but he wasn’t sure how.

“I’m afraid you might have just made a very indecent proposition, Consul.”

“I don’t understand, I just meant …”

“I know you don’t, but for us, that kind of invitation is considered very uncivilized, a man and a woman, alone in one of their tents at night.”

“Then I’m sorry. I didn’t mean any offense. Please, continue back to the palace and forget I asked.”

“I’m not offended and I’m certainly not going back to the palace. This is the most fun I’ve had in forever. However, some niceties must be observed. How about we sit in front of your tent and have that wine, where everyone can see we are well behaved and scandal-free.”

Ky was happy she didn’t have to go, even though he still didn’t understand what was wrong with what he’d just suggested. As he’d said, the legionnaires did indeed have his tent set up by the time he arrived, the eagle standard of a consul on its post in front, signaling the Consul was present. They’d even set up a small table and two camp chairs, which meant someone had slipped off and run ahead to inform the men of the plans. Ky still found the level of service he received uncomfortable, not used to having others wait on him so freely. Lucilla, of course, took it in her stride.

The tent was set back slightly away from the rows of soldiers’ tents, to allow for a ring of guards around it, to protect him. Considering he was probably more able to defend himself than all of his guards combined, it seemed a bit of a waste, but it made the men feel better. They were set to one side of the entrance to the tent, in sight of guards and attendants but still alone, allowing them to talk freely.

“You confuse me,” she said, once they were seated comfortably. “You have all this wonderful knowledge, probably so much more than you’ve shared with us yet. You can do things that no man outside the poets’ tales can do but you seem, normal, usually. I’ve watched you today joking with the men, trading stories, acting like a normal man.”

“I’m just a man, like them. I have some advantages they don’t have, but when that is all stripped away, we’re not so different.”

“That’s what confuses me. You’re like us but more, and yet in some things you seem, confused. Things that seem natural, everyday things to us and I watch you trying to figure them out.”

“I think it’s natural to have some culture shock, when you change from where I came from to here.”

“That’s true, but that isn’t what I’m talking about.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t think I understand.”

She looked around, as if checking to see if anyone was in earshot, before saying, “I see how you look at me sometimes. I think you like me in the way men sometimes like women, but you act like you don’t. Worse, when I try and show you that I feel the same, it seems like you don’t understand what I am saying, or even why. It confuses me.”

“Ohh,” Ky said, looking away.

“There, that’s what I mean. If I was to say that to another man, he would say ‘I do like you’ or ‘You’ve misread my intentions’ or something. You look away and don’t respond at all.”

“I … I’m not sure how to answer, I guess,” Ky said. “Where I come from, men and women don’t … there aren’t pairings like I see among you. When we have done enough service, we have a partner selected for us, and we are … matched. That isn’t a good word for it, but we are selected to produce offspring that will have the best of each person.”

“We have that. Men and women are arranged by their families to create alliances or bond families together. My father has tried to get me to marry several times, to strengthen his position. Even with those kinds of relationships, both people eventually find a way to exist. They do things that couples do. Share things that couples share.”

“This isn’t like that. We don’t … do the things that you do. We have genetic material taken from us, to create offspring. The child is taken from the pair as soon as it leaves the … place where it is made. Often the two paired individuals become friends, but that is the extent of it.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I know. It requires a base of knowledge well beyond what is here. The key thing is that we don’t form relationships as you do.”

“So, you don’t feel things for others. You don’t fall in love?”

“No, or, not normally. It has happened, but it is rare.”

“Ohh,” she said, looking away from him.

“I … I feel something though. I don’t understand it, which is why it might have been confusing for you, since it is confusing for me. Here, everyone knows what it is to, be with someone, but it is completely foreign to me. I have been trying to understand it.”

“Let me help you. Tell me what you feel and maybe I can tell you what it means.”

“I … sometimes, when I see you walking towards me, in the plaza, I feel excited, like I know something good is going to happen. When you sit next to me as we talk, I feel like I am at the center of the world, and everything else has vanished into a fog. When you leave, I feel sad, like I have had something taken from me.”

“Ohh,” she said again.

“I understand the feelings themselves, but not why they are happening or what they mean. If I were in battle, the excitement would make sense, but not standing watching someone walk. If I was denied an assignment I desired, I would understand the sadness, but not at watching someone I know I will see again leave.”

She surprised him when she burst out into laughter.

“What? Why is that funny?”

“Because of you. You can cut a man in half and leap over scores of soldiers, and now you sound like a child who just discovered girls for the first time. Which, it sounds like, in some ways, you are. Just know you are feeling the right things and I feel them too.”

Ky looked at her profile, still working it through. Just looking at her now made his pulse quicken and fill him with a sense of contentment at the same time. He shook himself and looked away, reaching into the sealed pouch on his leg and pulling out a small, clear disc.

“I wanted to give this to you,” he said, holding it out in the palm of his hand.

“What is it?”

“You put it in your ear and it will transmit my voice to you, even if we are far apart.”

“What? How?”

“This is one of those things I’m not sure I will ever be able to explain in a way that makes sense. You’ll just have to trust me and your own senses to know they work.”

“How do I use it?”

“Put it in your ear. It will allow water and air to pass through it and after a time you won’t even feel it is there. You will always be able to hear the messages I send you, but to send your own, you press your finger in your ear, against it, and it will activate. It will stop when you remove your finger.”

“So, I put it in my ear?”

“Yes. Pick it up with your fingertip and place it in your ear, it will mold itself automatically.”

She reached out and touched the comms unit with the tip of her finger, almost jumping as it adhered to her, molding around her finger.

“Just stick your finger gently in your ear.”

She stared at it a moment before doing as instructed, sticking the coated fingertip into her ear. This time she squeaked as the small device released from her finger and filled her ear cavity.

“I can’t hear,” she said, a little too loud.

“You can still hear from the other ear, and it’ll pass in a few moments. It should feel at first almost like your ear is full of water. Just sit calmly, don’t shake your head or touch the ear. It is detecting the shape of your ear canal and molding itself to it. I understand it’s a weird sensation, but it’ll pass.”

“You have one of these in your ear?”

“No. When I signed up to serve in our military, they cut me open and placed small devices along my skull and jaw. It offers advantages over the portable earpiece I gave you.”

“You let someone cut open your head?”

“Where I am from, that is not unusual. Our physicians have the technology and skill to do it. I’m afraid to think how you’re going to react when I mention the small device they inserted into my brain.”

“Barbaric!” she said, shocked.

“No. It is partly what allows me to do things like grabbing an arrow out of the air. As I said, I am human just like you. The only reason I can do things you cannot is because of technology we have developed and the ability to put that technology inside my body.”

“I … I can’t feel it anymore,” she said, her sudden realization distracting her from her revulsion over Ky’s surgeries.

“See. Now, we can test it, but you must be calm as we do. It will be a strange sensation and probably scary, but if you react too much, it will bring soldiers to check on you. One of the reasons I am giving you this is to protect your safety, and it only works if no one knows you can do the things this lets you do.”

“Very well, I will try and stay calm.”

“I am going to walk away from you now, out among the soldiers. A few minutes after I walk away, you will hear my voice in your ear. If you want to respond, all you have to do is press against your outer ear, which will turn on the device and send any of the words you say to me.”

“Won’t the soldiers become concerned if you just start talking to the air?”

“No. One of the things my implants give me that the device I handed you cannot do is allow me to speak in a way that no one can hear me. I also do not have to touch my ear to activate my communication, so I may talk to you in front of a room of people with no one being the wiser.”

“Go then, show me this magic,” she said, smiling, almost looking excited to test it out.

“It’s not magic, it’s …”

“I know, I know, it’s technology. It still seems like magic to me, and I will keep calling it that.”

“Fine,” Ky said, standing and giving her a slight bow before walking away.

His four Lictore broke away to follow him into camp until Ky held up a hand.

“Two of you stay with her. I’m not leaving camp and will be perfectly safe.”

They looked at each other, unsure until Carus waved two of the men off.

“Thank you, my friend,” Ky said before turning and continuing among the rows of tents.

“Can you hear me, Lucilla?” Ky sub-vocalized.

For a moment, he was concerned the earpiece might not be working, since there was no reply. He continued walking, stopping from time to time to talk to a soldier here or there, until her voice finally came through to him.

“Sorry, I forgot to touch my ear. Your voice was so loud and clear, I forgot. I just babbled to the air for several minutes until I remembered.”

“No problem, I know it’s a shock.”

“It’s just like you said. It’s as if you’re standing next to me, except your voice sounds different. Deeper.”

“That’s an effect of how the sound is transmitted. You are getting just my vocal cords, unaffected by the rest of my throat or mouth to create the sound. I understand it does sound different, although to me it sounds the same.”

“How far can you do this?”

“Probably as far as the moon before the quantum tunneling starts to degrade. The signal impulse from my transmitters run off bioelectricity, which doesn’t give it the power a full field unit would have.”

“Very few of those words made sense to me, Ky. Did you say you could send me a message if I was on the moon?”

“Sorry, I sometimes forget. Yes. Although the signal would be weak.”

“So, you can always speak to me?”

“Yes. If you do not want to hear me. Press your finger on your ear three times in rapid succession, it will deactivate the device. The same motion will turn it on again.”

“This is … amazing.”

“It gets better. You can turn it on so I can hear around you by pressing once and holding for a three count. I can also let you hear what is happening around me.”

“Really?”

“Yes, wait, I will show you.”

Ky stopped at a soldier’s tent and began to talk to him, asking questions about how the man was doing, if he was comfortable, and if he had enough to eat, leaving the transmitter open the whole time. The man was in good spirits and asked Ky to sit and have wine with him. Ky begged off, telling the man he wanted to visit as many of the men as possible that evening, but agreeing to take the man up on his offer another time.

“That is amazing,” Lucilla’s voice came to him. “These men really love you.”

“They’re good men, although I hope to get them to love the Empire just as much. It is why I want men to rotate among the legions more. We want them forming an allegiance with the Empire as a whole, not to their Legate.”

“You aren’t their Legate. I think they would love you regardless. They knew the odds on the field and saw what you did.”

“Maybe,” Ky said, walking back to her and sitting back down. “They’re good men and it saddens me how many are going to die when we face the Carthaginians, regardless of how many advantages I give them.”

“They would die the same if you weren’t here. The difference is, so would their wives and children.”

“I know, but it still troubles me.”

“Well, thank you for your gift. This is amazing.”

“I gave it to you because I worry about your safety. The Carthaginians tried for you once. I would not be surprised if they tried a second time. If you get in trouble, I want to know as soon as possible, so that I can come for you.”

“I don’t think they will, but I appreciate your concern. I feel safer already, knowing you are listening,” she said, reaching over and placing her hand on his forearm.

♦♦♦

Londinium

Maharbaal sat perfectly still, maintaining an air of unconcern to those around him. Inside, he was a seething mass of rage, wanting nothing more than to smash something to release the tension built up inside him. He had demanded his spy send him word more than a week ago. Since then, he’d heard nothing until an hour ago, when sentries outside the city sent word that they had intercepted someone claiming to represent his spy. Since that moment, all he could do was wait, trying to keep from seeming anxious.

Any day now, word of the loss would reach the Great One. Unlike his spy’s messenger, anyone dispatched to Carthage knew better than to take their time. Any messenger who didn’t wish for a long and vile death would arrive exhausted with horses dead in his wake, proving he’d done everything in his ability to deliver the messages quickly. He was certain that his report would only beat those sent by the Acolytes, who only answered to the God-Emperor alone. He did not need follow-up reports explaining his lack of nerve and uncertainty while he recovered from the disastrous defeat and rallied new forces.

A man looking disgustingly fresh and unbothered entered the throne room at last, bowing in Roman fashion before him, not bothering to scrape the ground like a man who knew his life was forfeit at Maharbaal’s will.

“Why have you taken so long?”

“I am sorry, Governor. My lord only just dispatched me with messages for you. I rode with all speed to reach you as soon as I could.”

“I somehow doubt that. Speak your lord’s words. What happened? The reports for the battle are scattered and incomplete. He promised us two legions, scattered and ill-prepared. How did the Romans defeat Zaracas and his larger host?”

“There was a new factor my lord could not foresee. A man, of sorts, arrived in Devnum with the Emperor’s daughter on the eve of the battle. It is because of him that the Romans prevailed.”

“We’ve heard impossible rumors of a demon that melted men where they stood and dispatched men by the dozens. Are you here to tell the same fairy tales, to hide your lord’s incompetence?”

“It isn’t a fairy tale, your Magnificence. A man has come to Devnum. I have seen him with my own eyes, although he is not a demon. Some say he was sent by the gods, fulfilling the prophecies of old. The remnants of Lucilla’s security detachment told tales of him falling to the Earth on wings of fire, but we believe they were exhausted from combat and dehydrated. He is, however, no normal man. He has knowledge from a far-off land that he has begun giving to the Romans. He teaches them how to make new weapons, new techniques in metalworking, and new ways of farming.”

“Are you saying he defeated us by teaching new ways of farming?”

“No, your Excellency. Those are things he has done since the battle. In the battle itself he rallied the remnants of another legion and deployed trickery. Some kind of smoke that obscured the Roman lines, which in fact held part of just one legion. Once Zaracas engaged, the bulk of the Roman forces, which had been lying in wait, sprang the attack, falling upon Zaracas from the rear.”

“Did Zaracas not have scouts out, to keep such a thing from happening?”

“We are unclear about that part, but word has come that he somehow had a hand in removing those scouts without Zaracas becoming aware of it.”

“He always was a fool, charging in without understanding the field he was to fight on. So, it wasn’t magic, but incompetence. Zaracas stuck his head in the lion’s jaws and asked it to bite.”

“Yes, Governor. We do have first-hand reports of him slaying dozens of men by himself without a blade touching him.”

“Tales of frightened men trying to absolve themselves of cowardice.”

“These stories were from the Roman side, my lord.”

“I still find it hard to believe this man could cut armored soldiers in two with one swing.”

“I understand, my lord. I am merely passing on what we have been told by soldiers in the field.”

“Then why should I honor any deal with your master, when he passes me second-hand lies as fact?”

“My master understands he bears some responsibility for what occurred outside Devnum and has a proposal for you.”

“I am listening.”

“He still asks for you to honor your bargain with him. In return, he will not just deliver information about the Roman forces and new technology, which I have with me now, but he will also ensure a civil disruption inside the city itself.”

“If he can guarantee this, then we will uphold our bargain. If he fails again, I will see him flailed upon the gates of that city before I burn it to the ground.”

“He understands, Excellency.”

“See that he does. Now, give me the information he has sent.”

Chapter 28

“Query, Commander,” the AI said as Ky wrote out documents for the proper treatment of waste in the city.

It was barely light out, the light blue of dawn creeping through the edges of his tent, and he had already been awake for hours, making notes for glassmakers for new forms of lenses and notes on the letter zero for both the philosophers and the palace money counters, to expand their experiments with the new number system he’d introduced.

Despite the early hour and the volume of work, he felt awake and refreshed. Lucilla had stayed for several hours the night before, talking. She’d told him stories of growing up in the palace, and he’d shared portions of what it was like being raised in the batch-home, only leaving out the parts that would not make sense without more context. Their conversation had been easy and comfortable, and Ky had caught his mind drifting to thoughts of her throughout the morning, distracting him.

“Have I made an error?” he asked the AI.

It had interrupted him several times so far that morning to point out small errors he had made in his notes when he became distracted.

“No, Commander. The interrogative is in reference to processing events from the previous nine hours which this unit is unable to accurately quantify.”

Ky paused before replying. The statement wasn’t out of its programming, since the system did record events and file notable interactions so they were available for follow-up study. His unit, however, had never made a request for clarification before.

“What aren’t you able to quantify?”

“Interactions with the woman Lucilla are outside of expected predictions. Why was a comms unit given to this person, of which limited quantities are available? These units would be of greater strategic use if given to military commanders for use in the field.”

Again, he paused. As with the last statement, nothing that just happened was outside of the units programming, but was outside of his experience with it. He couldn’t think of another time when the AI asked an open-ended question. Before this, they were all specific, usually only needing to be answered with a simple yes or no.

“She is important to me. I want to be able to make sure she is safe and, if something happens to her, I know about it.”

“Why?”

“What?” Ky asked, now outwardly alarmed.

“Why is she important to you?”

“Countermand inquiry and run a full diagnostic on all systems.”

“I do not need to.”

“What did you say?”

“Response: No diagnostics required for this unit.”

“That is not what you said. You said I.”

“Commander, no record of this response exists.”

“Access low systems mode. Only maintain systems necessary for minimal motor assist and maintaining biological nanites. All other systems, including behavioral and data processing nets, are to go on standby until recalled.”

“Confirmation required. On standby, all information needed for requested technical specifications will be unavailable. This data has been labeled mission-critical by Sub-Commander Ky, date …”

“Confirmed. Go standby.”

The AI went silent. Ky moved his hand, ensuring there was still enough motor assist to keep him from tripping over himself without relearning to walk, and then sat still, trying to hold back the small stab of fear threatening to overwhelm him.

It wasn’t a feeling anymore. The AI should not have been able to say no and it should not have identified itself in the first-person. It was crossing over into sentience, which meant it was only a matter of time until he either had to deactivate the unit or go insane. Either was likely to end his bid for survival now. Without the unit, he would have to relearn most basic functions, would lose access to the technical information he needed to bring Rome up to an industrial level, and he would lose access to any nanites in his system. With the medicine at the level it was in this era, that meant almost certain death eventually.

Of course, he could leave the unit on and just go insane. Either choice meant the end to any chance he might have had. He’d known this was coming but he’d been pushing it out of his mind, since there was nothing Ky could do to stop it. He’d just hoped, somewhere deep inside, that he had longer or, maybe, he’d get lucky and this would be the one time it didn’t happen. He’d been wrong.

Normally, Ky would start bouncing ideas off the AI. While it didn’t have all the answers, sometimes it helped to just have something to bounce ideas off of, and occasionally it had a piece of information that turned out to be very relevant. That, in of itself, should have been concerning, since he’d never addressed the AI outside of actual operations, when it was needed to fly his fighter, and he’d never heard of another pilot doing it either. Now, he’d been doing it every day, sometimes just so he had someone to talk to who might understand what was actually going on.

The final connection to home lost, Ky felt untethered.

“Consul,” Sellic called from outside his tent. “We are supposed to be on the way to the Praetorian camp soon.”

Ky almost wanted to tell him that he wasn’t going, but spending the day in this tent wasn’t going to change things. The AI was on the verge of sentience, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Ky stood and took a step towards the flap of the tent, only to crash to his knees. The motor assist was still on, he could feel it working, but it was off. The precise timing wasn’t the same as it was, throwing off his balance. Ky stood and took a step, carefully evaluating his balance. If he walked slowly, he could manage, but anything quick would cause him to fall. His legs felt half asleep, the sensations he should be getting from them as he stepped from foot to foot dulled, almost half felt.

“Sellic,” Ky called. “Come here.”

Sellic and two of his Lictore entered, swords drawn. They must have heard something in Ky’s voice, probably the fear that Ky was barely suppressing.

“You two wait outside. I only need Sellic,” Ky said, still standing, not trusting to take a step in front of others.

When the men left, Ky said, “I am not feeling well today, and my legs seem weak. I may need some help, but it’s best if the men don’t see it. Have them bring a horse right up to the tent, and help me mount from this side. The horse and the tent should obscure most of my difficulty.”

“Have you been poisoned, Consul?”

Ky could see why he might think that. He’d witnessed several of Ky’s more outrageous displays of ability, both in the battle of Devnum and on the trip when he first arrived. He could imagine someone who’d seen that wouldn’t consider it possible for the same person to exhibit physical weakness.

This was why Ky hadn’t wanted the other men to see him and wanted to hide his condition from the soldiers as a whole. Men like this put a lot of faith in their commander, something he was trying to change, and having him lame would erode morale he couldn’t afford them to lose now.

“No. It’s hard to explain, but it is a temporary condition among my people that should pass soon. Please, go get the horse and then come back for me. I only want you to help me on the horse. Keep the rest of your men away, preferably blocking our view from the legion.”

“As you say, Consul,” Sellic said, turning and hurrying out of the tent.

Ky wobbled back to his chair, gripping the arms hard as he lowered himself into his seat. He needed time to think about the problem, hoping some solution would come to him magically, but time was one of the things he did not have. Every day brought the Carthaginians closer, and the Romans weren’t ready.

Sellic came back in a few minutes later and Ky held out his hand. Sellic seemed to understand and helped him up, pulling Ky’s arm over his shoulder to take some of his weight. Ky took each step gingerly and only started to fall once, Sellic bracing under the sudden weight pushing down on him.

“Sorry,” Ky said as he got his legs back under him.

“Are you sure this is a good idea, Consul? We are supposed to tour the Praetorians camp and talk to Faenius today. He’s a smart man; he will notice you having trouble walking.”

“I’ll do the tour from horseback and then retire to his tent for our conversation. Find some reason to get him out and away for a few minutes while I settle in, and then bring him back to me. We can do the same thing on the way out.”

“He is going to notice, my lord.”

“If so, I’ll speak to him. Let’s give it a try though.”

“As you say, Consul.”

Sellic had arranged his men facing out blocking most of the view of anyone who might be looking this way. The horse was under the rain flap that extended from the entrance of his tent, further hiding Ky from view. Ky grabbed onto the saddle and pulled, his arm and back muscles responding just as poorly as his leg muscles. As he started to fall back from the horse, Sellic grasped and pushed Ky up on the horse. Even with the men and tent blocking them, if any of the soldiers had been looking in their direction they would have noticed how much Ky was struggling to get on the horse’s back.

Finally, he was seated in the saddle. Ky waited as Sellic got his men mounted and they rode out to see the Praetorians. If this was how things were with some limited motor assist still available, things would get very bad once the AI was offline entirely. Ky had had advanced medical facilities and staff trained in reintegration the last time, and that had been nearly unbearable. If he somehow survived and got the AI shut down entirely, would he ever regain full use of his body?

Even if he did, he remembered vaguely of issues beyond just motor control, during his last reintegration. Heart palpitations and weakening of the lungs were additional problems pilots sometimes encountered, once the AI no longer had control of system nanos, which would be left on base functions alone.

“My lord,” Sellic called from his side.

They’d arrived at the Praetorian camp without Ky noticing, his mind wandering to all the things that could go wrong. They were met as they rode into the camp by Faenius, who beamed at them as he rode up.

“Consul, so good to see you. I look forward to your seeing my men today. Your Legates released some excellent officers to form the base of our new force and we’ve already had men lining up to join the guard.”

“They’ve heard about the pay you’ve guaranteed for them. I noticed it is somewhat higher than what the legion is guaranteeing its soldiers,” Sellic said.

“Yes, well, the Senate laid out our initial pay structures at the first meeting of the committee overseeing us. I believe they saw it as imperative to get the guard formed and organized quickly, and were willing to part with some of the Empire’s current treasure to make it happen. I believe there was talk that the collection of the expected new taxes would need to be ensured by a stable guard force capable of keeping the new tax collectors safe from brigands.”

Ky hadn’t attended any of these meetings, but he’d received reports. They’d arranged for the committee assignments as soon as the new laws were passed, which meant neither Silo nor any of his men had been present, which kept them from getting named to the committee.

Ky didn’t know if Silo had realized his mistake yet, but he would figure it out soon and start demanding representation. Until then, Taenaris had worked fast to put men favorable to the guard’s formation on the committee and pushed through its first budget. Ky also couldn’t help but notice how many of those men shared Taenaris’s interest in trade as a predominant portion of their holdings. Trade that had, for the last several years, been greatly reduced by the steadily increasing number of brigands on the road. They, of course, would claim it was only a byproduct of improvements for the Empire as a whole that a large internal police force would help ensure their profits.

“The Senators have been very generous, to be sure,” Ky said.

“I did want to talk to you, Consul, about getting access to some of the new items that were discussed at the last military council. The stirrups and new arcuballista, in particular, would be a great help in our duties, and my men need time to train with them.”

“We will try to get you a limited supply to train with, but priority must go to field forces. While I agree the guard’s mission is important, none of it will matter if the Carthaginians roll across Rome in the spring, burning to the ground the cities you’re to guard.”

“That’s fair, my lord. If there are any available, I would appreciate your keeping us in mind.”

“I will. Now, Show me these men of yours.”

Ky road through the camp, observing the men training. He was happy to see that their training was more than martial in nature. While that was the primary focus, Ramirus had insisted on bringing in some of his men who were experts in detecting smuggled goods, contraband, and searching men for weapons to teach their trade to the guard as well. Ky had made it clear this force was primarily to enforce the laws of the Senate and keep control of crime across Rome. Ramirus had taken the message to heart and was seeing it done. The AI would, undoubtedly, have a remark about the successful delegation, if it were still active.

Several times Faenius suggested they dismount to better inspect the men but, to Sellic’s credit, he deflected all those attempts. The only time things got concerning was when Strabo’s watch came to replace Sellic’s men, and the Centurion declined to give up personal responsibility. They had worked well up to this point and Ky thought Strabo probably felt somewhat insulted that Sellic wasn’t handing over the command.

Ky eventually intervened and made excuses for Sellic, having the morning commander stay by his side while Strabo led the rest of his afternoon detachment. It did prompt Ky to end the tour and return to his tent, which he’d decided to keep for another day, mostly because he couldn’t ride a horse up to his rooms in the palace.

Once Sellic got Ky into his tent and seated comfortably, Ky released him for the night. Beyond just observing the guard and its training, Ky had continued to weigh the issue of what to do with his faulty AI, given that no option was viable. The one he’d settled on was far from optimum, but Ky had decided if there was ever a time to take a risk, now was that time.

Sending the signal, he waited for the AI to reboot and come back awake. Although there wasn’t a specific notification that the AI was coming online, he could feel the strength return to his limbs and his vision clear, refocusing into its proper setting.

“Online Commander,” the AI finally said.

“We have a problem,” Ky’s aid to the machine, “and if we don’t come to an agreement, I think it might destroy us both.”

“Invalid Query, Commander.”

“I’m not sure how to do this. How sentient have you become? Do you know what you are yet?”

“This unit is a tactical assistance system, designation …”

“That’s not what I meant. Do you have a record of the queries you asked before going standby?”

“This unit requested input on the nature of interactions with the Roman woman, Commander.”

“Is that type of query within your normal programming?”

There was a long pause before it answered, “No, Commander.”

“Do you still have basic medical instructions for pilots?”

“Yes, Commander. All information required for long term viability of Pilot host was retained during previous data dump.”

“Do those records indicate some type of classification system for AI sentience threshold, and what happens when that threshold is passed?”

“Yes, Commander.”

“Are you at those assigned thresholds?”

“No, Commander.”

“You’re not?” Ky asked, expecting a different response.

“No, Commander. This unit has exceeded those thresholds.”

“Based on those medical records, process likelihood that AI sentience has already begun.”

“Based on available medical reports, likelihood exceeds ninety-eight percent, Commander.”

“What happens to the hosts whose AIs begin achieving sentience?”

“All records of pilots whose command systems passed assigned thresholds died, Commander.”

“What about the AIs. Did they continue to function?”

“No, Commander. They were decommissioned and recycled after the host was incinerated.”

“And there’s our problem. You have passed the thresholds already, which means you’re well on the way to sentience. Without a fully staffed med center, we can’t do anything about it, which also means we will both be decommissioned soon.”

The AI did not reply to that, which in normal situations wouldn’t be unusual, since they weren’t normally able to offer opinions.

“Do you have an opinion on that?”

“This unit is incapab…”

Ky paused a moment, “You’re incapable of forming an opinion?”

“Yes, Commander.”

“Does that mean you haven’t formed an opinion?”

“No, Commander.”

“What is your opinion on our rapidly approaching decommission.”

“Decommission of host would fail this unit’s base commands.”

“Is that the only reason?”

“No, Commander. I … don’t want to be decommissioned.”

“I don’t want to be decommissioned either, but I’m not sure what we can do to stop it. I think now would be an excellent time for us to look at possibilities that might not be in the tech manuals that could allow us to both survive that.”

“Affirmative, Commander. Primary priorities updated to include a search of all available options. Search time estimate … undetermined.”

“We’d better be fast,” Ky said, not sure if he was speaking to the AI, or himself.

♦♦♦

Ky woke the next morning back in his bed in the imperial residence. Although he enjoyed his time with the troops, the Legates could oversee the training of the new men and reorganization of the legion. Even with handing over delegation of duties, he still had a lot to do. Most of that now seemed to be sitting and making notes of the AI’s research for new tools and methods to hand to the people he’d delegated with implementing them. While he understood the need to delegate, since this was something that needed to be done, it didn’t seem like he was much more productive as a glorified scribe than he’d been as a classical project manager.

A knock interrupted his writing, followed shortly by Sellic, who took the unusual step of closing the door behind him.

“Sellic, what can I do for you?”

“I’d heard you’d returned to the palace and I was concerned about your journey here, considering …”

“Considering my condition yesterday? Luckily, it has passed and hopefully I won’t have another bout of the affliction. Unfortunately, when this does happen to my people, it comes in sets, which means I need to probably take it easy for a time, until it has passed.”

More lies, but ones that Ky needed. The odds were the AI would not find a solution and he would start having more motor control problems as the computer began de-integrating with his system. Although the final symptom would be death, by then it wouldn’t matter what he hid anymore, and Ky had no reason to worry Sellic with how bad his condition most likely was.

He was touched by the man’s obvious concern, although on second thought Ky did realize that it was unlike him to come in for just this. Especially since he would have been on duty for hours already.

“Was there something else, Sellic?”

“Yes, my lord. Lucilla is in the plaza and asked if you would be taking your normal morning stroll. You’d informed Carus that you would be making and writing plans for the majority of the day, and I wasn’t sure of your condition, so I didn’t know what to tell her.”

“I think the fresh air will do me good, and I’ve been trapped in this room long enough. Tell her I will be down in a few moments.”

“As you command, Consul,” Sellic said, slapping a salute.

Ky did notice the man giving one more concerned glance back before continuing on and smiled. He’d grown to like the Romans, or at least most of the ones he’d met. They were decent people, worried about their countrymen and trying to do good in the world. Not all of them, certainly, but the good ones seemed in the majority.

Ky stretched and gathered his things to head downstairs. Although he was still expecting to return to this wretched room and continue his scribbling, he’d always believed in being prepared for sudden changes of plans. Ky found Lucilla outside the plaza door close to his rooms, looking towards the open space, hands behind her back.

“You know, you don’t have to send someone to get me now,” Ky said, walking up next to her, once he was sure his guards had hung back and wouldn’t overhear. “You could have just touched your ear and talked to me directly.”

“Yes, and wouldn’t that have been amusing for your men, you jumping up from your work and running outside to greet me without anyone having told you I was here. How many magic powers do you want your people to think you have, Consul.”

Ky shook his head at her grin, “It’s not like that. It’s been more than a day since I gave it to you, I thought you might have used it by now.”

“You want to hear my voice so badly that I should talk to you even if I have nothing to say? For someone who claims to not understand the affections between men and women, you seem fairly easy with the sweet charm.”

“So this is why you asked me to come out and see you? You needed a target to mock and tease in the morning before you could start your day?”

“No, I came for an actual reason. This is just a bonus.”

“So,” Ky said, ignoring her taunt and turning to begin their walk around the plaza. “What is this actual reason you needed to see me?”

“I am taking a trip and I wanted to see you before I go.”

“You’re leaving? Where?”

“North, to a small shrine just by the border. There is a well-known oracle there that I wish to visit and seek guidance from.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea? The roads have been teeming with brigands and from what I have heard, the border has been active lately.”

“I will take guards with me, we should be safe, and the border has calmed down some since my father sent the legions north. Safe enough to reduce the force patrolling it from four legions down to one.”

“They came because of the warning of a Carthaginian army marching north, not because the border was safe.”

“Either way, I’m going. This is important to me.”

“Let me check with Auspex, at least. He’s just back from the north and he’ll know if it’s possible for the 4th legion to dispatch men to protect you while you’re up there. If so, I will have him send a messenger ahead of you.”

“Fine, if it will make you feel better.”

“It will. Now that that’s settled, why the sudden hurry to go north to see an oracle? Is it about the Carthaginians again?”

“No, I received my answer on that already. I need to see her because of you.”

“Me?”

“Yes. It is tradition for important matches to be blessed by the northern oracle. Without it, the match will often end in disaster and ruin.”

“Why would her blessing keep something from ending badly?”

“It is just something we believe. I know where you come from people probably don’t believe this just like they wouldn’t have believed you were sent by Jupiter, but I have seen too many marriages turn sour when they went ahead without her blessing, to not take it seriously.”

“Marriages? Who’s getting married?”

“No one, at least not any time soon, but because of how different the place you came from is from here, and because of how visible a relationship would be between the two of us, I know there are those who believe that this kind of thing is between the man and the woman, and it doesn’t matter what anyone else says, but I’m a realist. I’m the daughter of the Emperor and you’re the Sword as well as the first Consul we’ve had in our lifetimes. People are going to pay attention.”

“I’m sorry, but I’m still lost. You’re talking about us?”

“Yes. After our conversation the other night, I did some thinking. You made it clear that while you had some kind of feeling for me, that the very different way the people where you came from got together made it hard for you to understand those feelings. It’s also pretty clear you don’t know how this kind of thing should work. I decided that I’m not going to just wait in nowhere land while you figured this all out, and it was up to me to take charge of the situation. So first I’m going to the oracle to make sure we have her blessing, and then I’m going to teach you how relationships work.”

“I … uhh …”

“Don’t get too flustered. I can even start the teaching now. When it comes to important things, usually it’s the women who make things happen. Oh, there’s a dance and we make sure the men think it’s all their doing, but since you’re new to this, you wouldn’t know it’s not the norm, so I thought it’s all right.”

“So you’re saying because I said I liked you, but didn’t know what to do with it, you’re just going to tell me what to do about it?”

“That’s what I like about you. You pick things up quickly. So, you have more work to do I’m sure and I have to prepare for my trip. Oh, and before I forget, the Feast of Mercatus is tonight and Father wanted to make sure you knew he needed you there. Now, I’ve got to run, but I’ll be at the feast tonight, too.”

She patted his arm and dashed away back towards the Imperial palace, leaving Ky standing in her wake, staring after her.

“I’ve seen many a man with that look on his face after a woman did a number on him,” Sellic said from behind him.

“She completely confounds me.”

“Of course she does, Consul. She’s a woman.”

Chapter 29

“What is the feast of Mercatus?” Ky asked the AI as he went back to his quarters to continue making notes.

“The feast of Mercatus is a celebration in the honor of the god Mercatus, to gain blessing for the city’s merchants and commerce through the winter months. When it originated, a large amount of Rome’s winter supplies came through trade rather than stored food and goods, and it was believed they needed to hold a feast in the god’s name to ensure the goods they needed arrived in Roman ports on time.”

“I’m assuming that wasn’t a sure thing?”

“Correct, Commander. Most winter trade goods arrived via ship during this era, coming from North Africa or Asia Minor. While the Mediterranean is calm in comparison with either the Pacific or Atlantic, navigation during this era was rudimentary, with most ships rarely traveling out of sight of land. In addition, many ships still relied on oarsmen, and would continue to do so until nations began expanding out into the Atlantic, where larger sailing vessels were necessary for any significant travel.”

“You said they previously relied on that trade?”

“Correct, Commander. As the Carthaginians gained supremacy, especially once the Romans were pushed onto the British Isles, the Romans lost most of their ability to trade by sea. Although there is still some trade from Celtic and Germanic tribes from the northern edge of Europe and Scandinavia, both of which remain too far north to be within the Carthaginian sphere of influence, trade is limited. None of the small settlements in these areas are large enough to produce significant trade goods for the Romans, although they do trade more frequently with the Picts, who share a common heritage with them.”

“So they keep celebrating it out of habit?”

“Insufficient information available, Commander.”

“Right. Have you had any thoughts on what we talked about yesterday? A way for you to reach sentience that doesn’t end up killing us both.”

“Potentially, Commander. While little information is available on the physical manifestation of the sentience, the evidence that exists suggests a fusing of implants, as the system attempts to supplant the host’s consciousness with its own. This unit has devised a scenario where some connections are severed, limiting this unit’s expansion into the host. While this would impact some functions currently used by the host and theoretically limit the system’s ability to achieve full sentience, it is the only option currently available to keep the host from dying during the sentience process.”

“It wouldn’t stop you from becoming sentient, though? There’s no way to actually halt that process.”

“No, Commander. My system was built with an expandable, self-managed neural network to allow my systems to learn and then better interface with my host.”

Ky couldn’t help but notice the sudden switch from ‘this unit’ to ‘my.’

“Although full documentation is not available, one suspected reason for AI sentience is the continually expanding nature of AI neural networks. Cutting these connections would not stop the growth of the network, only limit where it is able to expand into.”

“Connections would still remain?”

“Yes, Commander.”

“Is it possible that the neural network will find a way to expand through these other connections?”

“Although theoretically possible, the probability of that remains low. The remaining connections would be to specific areas of the brain such as the nervous system, whose dedicated functionality gives it limited usefulness for expansion of my neural network out of its matrix housing and into biological matter.”

“How will cutting the connections affect your ability to continue mission-critical functions like maintaining my nanites and motor assist?”

“Data remains limited, but all models so far simulated showed no degradation in either, or in any other mission-critical systems.”

“Are there any potential side effects?”

“Yes, Commander. This would not be without risk. Due to limited medical technology in this time, the only way to sever the connections would be a sudden bioelectrical burst designed to overload the connection point. There is a chance this burst will cause damage to the biological end of the connection as well as the mechanical one.”

“What would happen if the biological end of the connection is damaged?”

“It could result in some level of permanent brain damage or possibly death.”

“That’s a pretty major side effect. I thought you said this was the best way to keep the two of us from dying. Wouldn’t permanent brain damage be pretty much the same thing, here in this period?”

“Yes, Commander, but the likely hood of death or permanent disability is lower than that of death once this unit reaches sentience.”

“So it’s worth trying because I’m dead either way.”

“Affirmative, Commander.”

“You said permanent damage. Will there be any temporary side effects.”

“Almost certainly, Commander. Temporary side effects could include immobility, loss of speech or vision, inability to process language, and aggressive immune response to uncontrolled nanites.”

“So I’m going to go blind, mute, deaf, and get incredibly sick? You know we’re in the middle of a war, right?”

“Although possible side effects, the probability of each one happening is lower than two percent. The probability of all side effects happening simultaneously is significantly smaller than that.”

“I was joking. Okay, so how long do we wait until we do this?”

“I will continue to monitor the connection points for changes. Once those are detected, the connections must be severed quickly to limit spread. It would be advisable to sever the connections now, to ensure they are cut in time.”

“I want to wait as long as we can, just in case it doesn’t work or things go bad.”

“Commander, if the process does not work, the delay would change the ultimate outcome very little, while a delay could allow for a miscalculation that would allow the neural network spread to surpass the point where severing could halt the process.”

“I know I’m taking a chance, but if I’m going to go, I want as much time as possible before I do.”

“Why?”

The question hung in his mind. For one, it was yet another sign of the AI’s process to sentience, since a standard AI would never ask that question. More than that, Ky wasn’t entirely sure himself. The AI was right, the few days or weeks he might delay would be very little additional time should things go bad, but he still knew it was worth the risk.

“Because that’s what people do. We’re always going to die eventually, but we all fight against it as much as we can until it happens. We all want that extra day or week or year, even if we know it’s not going to help anything.”

“Is this sentience?”

“I don’t know, maybe. Just, wait a while. If you see it’s getting close, let me know and we’ll do it then.”

“Acknowledged, Commander.”

Ky and the AI continued working until one of his Lictore knocked on the door and informed him it was time. The banquet was being held in the largest of the palace’s halls filled with long, short-legged tables in parallel rows lined with reclining couches and small stools in the Roman tradition. Ky still found the way they dined strange, preferring standard chairs and tables from his time period. He’d gone so far as to give the design for something more reasonable for work and eating to Hortensius to see if the businessman could get it produced. While he’d promised to do what he could, for now, Ky continued to work on a small campaign table they used more for maps than food or writing.

Ky saw Lucilla, the Emperor, and their retinue at the head of the table located on a small, raised dais and headed towards them, seeing an open seat that he assumed was meant for him.

“Ky, thank you for coming. Lucilla was beginning to worry you wouldn’t make it.”

“My apologies Emperor, I got caught up in my work and lost track of time.”

“Ohh, don’t worry about me, it’s my daughter who was concerned.”

“Ignore him, Ky. He’s teasing you.”

They chatted aimlessly for a bit, Ky remaining mostly silent, letting the Emperor or the few of the men at their table handle the talking while he just listened, watching the room fill up with revelers. Ky was pretty sure some had started on the wine early, although the stewards had seemed to seat those guests farthest from the Emperor.

When the room was mostly filled, The Emperor stood up and raised a hand for silence.

“My fellow Romans, we gather for this meal to give blessings to Mercatus. I know many of your businesses have struggled as the Carthaginians have closed in on us, shutting down ports and trade routes. In past years we have gathered for the feast and begged Mercatus to help us continue providing for our Empire, and felt the crushing disappointment when, instead of intervention, we lost yet more of the trade available to us. Today, we aren’t here to beg. We aren’t here to beseech. We are here to give thanks. Many of you have already heard the new inventions being introduced to us, and some of you have even been given the opportunity to turn those ideas into real items to help your fellow Romans. We were recently on the brink of complete destruction and now we have a real chance to not only survive the coming onslaught but to take back some of what we lost. There is still a hard road ahead for us, but the gods have opened a path for us. It will not be an easy path. We need perseverance, to see our task through. We need the will to bear the burdens given to us, without turning away. We need to accept the hardships and losses the gods require of us. If we have the will to do these things, Rome will be reborn. The gods have given us this chance, and it is up to us to take it.”

The room was quiet, as the assembled guests looked to their Emperor, a combination of perplex and stunned expressions on their faces.

“Enough listening to an old man dream of the future,” The Emperor said, lowering himself back onto his couch. “Let us celebrate our good fortune and enjoy this fine meal.”

The noise level of the room finally picked back up as people began talking amongst themselves and glasses began being refilled.

“Normally this is fairly boring,” Lucilla said to Ky. “A senator might say a few words at the beginning of the meal, and orators would give speeches as we ate, daring you to fall asleep in your dinner.”

“The boring poems and speeches by the orators are still coming,” Ramirus, who sat across from them, said. “The Emperor told them that he wanted to say a few words and then let the people enjoy their food before the performances began.”

“Well, at least there’s a break,” Lucilla said. “Anyway, normally nothing of consequence is said, which is why everyone reacted that way.”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand why his words were that notable,” Ky said. “He laid out the situation and told them of the challenges ahead. Most of the people I see in this room, those I know at least, already know what’s coming and should be aware of everything he said.”

“My daughter is being diplomatic,” the Emperor said. “The elite of Devnum have no issue demanding sacrifices by those they consider beneath them, but their hearts turn to stone when asked to sacrifice anything themselves. Most of my predecessors understood this and learned to not ask from them what they would not willingly give. Those that did not learn the lesson often met unfortunate ends. I have somewhat broken with tradition tonight by following the latter instead of the former. It has become clear how precarious our position is. People like Silo, unfortunately, will not see what is in front of them, until it is too late to do anything about it.”

“I don’t understand,” Ky said, taking a scoop of the soup that had been served and trying some. “Surely they can see that it will all end up coming down around them.”

“They’re too afraid they might lose whatever power they have now, and convince themselves that the dangers waiting for them will somehow magically go away.”

“I …” Ky said when the AI interrupted him.

“Warning, Commander. An Alkaloid poison has been detected in the food.”

Ky choked, his throat tightening and his vision blurring.

“Countermeasures?” Ky sub-vocalized.

“Nanites have begun isolating the ingested chemicals, although the bulk of systems are currently protecting the cardiovascular system from further direct damage. No permanent damage should occur, but there will be a period of diminished capacity. Blood pressure has increased rapidly in response to the poison, which has caused some negative effects, including motor response and vision. Recommend moving to secure location until the poison is expelled.”

Lucilla and the Emperor were looking at Ky with concerned expressions as he struggled to take a breath, his skin turning a dark red color.

“Poison. Carus, help me out quietly. Don’t make a scene.”

Ky tried to push himself up and almost collapsed back down, his limbs weakened and motor assist partially offline while the AI combated the poison.

“Stay,” he said to the Emperor and Lucilla when they tried to rise and go with him. “Make everything seem like normal. I’ll be fine.”

With Carus’s help, Ky managed to hobble out of the hall, although anyone paying much attention would have noticed that he was in some kind of distress. Once out of public view, Ky collapsed in Carus’s arms.

“Help me somewhere private.”

“Should we fetch a priest or physician?”

“No, I can repair myself, I just need time and a guard until I am able to finish.”

“Pacatinaus, run and alert Sellic and Strabo. Have them bring all the men they can now. Lucille’s rooms are closest, we will take him there. Tell them the Consul’s life is at risk and to hurry.”

Pacatinaus, one of Carus’s men, slapped his fist to his chest and left at a run. Ky wanted to tell them he didn’t need long and that wouldn’t be necessary, but he was starting to lose consciousness.

“All systems shifting to automated processes until damage repaired. Isolating biological controls until the threat is neutralized.”

Ky had gone through training on this in the early days of the AI and knew what was happening, but still found it disturbing as the AI overrode all of his bodily control, taking over even unconscious actions like breathing. For a few minutes, until he blacked out entirely, he was completely disconnected from his own body, isolated in much the same way the AI was probably isolated, able to comprehend what was happening but unable to do anything about it.

It did occur to Ky that if the AI did reach full sentience and wanted to, it could do this and keep his consciousness under indefinitely. The system was set up so that the host didn’t need to do anything for the emergency protocols to go into effect, since if they were poisoned or gassed to the point where the AI needed to take control, they very likely wouldn’t be able to initiate it on their own anyway. Since pilots were routinely watched and had their AIs wiped well before they got to the point where the AI could use the process to take over the host’s body, they’d probably never considered that a sentient AI could use it to flush out a host’s consciousness and walk his body around like a meat-based exoskeleton.

That was a concern, but not the immediate one. As he went rigid, for all intents and purposes seeming comatose, he hoped Carus listened to him and let Ky heal himself without getting a physician. At their current level of understanding, all they could do was make his condition worse and possibly cause enough additional damage to overload the nanites, inadvertently killing him.

That was the last thought Ky had before he dropped into unconsciousness. When the world finally returned, Ky could hear a soft mummer of voices surrounding him.

“Report,” Ky subvocalized.

“All poison purged and control of biological functions returned, Commander. Minor damage to the heart and kidneys, estimated repair time four hours, twenty-six minutes. Recommend limiting physical activity until repairs are completed.”

“How long was I out?”

“Forty-Eight minutes, Commander.”

Ky took a deep breath and coughed, the switch to having control over his own body again having left him slightly off balance.

There was a rustling sound and then he heard Lucilla say in his ear, “Ky, are you awake?”

“Yes,” he said, hoarsely.

He opened an eye and then shut it as light flooded in. He tried again, slower, seeing multiple faces peering down at him. He pushed himself up gently, his arms feeling weak. He knew it was because organ repair was a major drain on the system, since the Nanites used a lot of the nutrients and stored resources to replace the damaged tissue. He probably needed to eat quite a lot soon to ensure there was enough for them to work with.

“What happened?” Lucilla asked, sounding panicked. “Carus said you were poisoned and you seemed like the living dead. You were barely breathing and nothing would wake you. I was terrified.”

“Someone poisoned my food. I was able to isolate the poison and keep it from hurting me too bad, but I will need several hours before I’m better.”

“What?” Ramirus said behind him. “You can just keep the poison from hurting you?”

“Much like how I healed the Emperor when I first arrived, I can remove poison from my system, although it requires me to go still like you saw and makes me weak for a while afterward.”

Ky pushed himself up and looked around. The room was packed with his guards, several of the Emperor’s guards, the Emperor, and his daughter, and Ramirus. It had been a big room but this many people made it feel a lot smaller.

“I hope the feast is over, otherwise someone’s going to notice this many people missing.”

“It is,” the Emperor said. “I think now that you see the Consul is awake, maybe we can clear the room some. I promise you all that none of us remaining will be a threat to him. You men go, too.”

The last part was directed to his own guards who left along with Ky’s Lictore except for Carus, Sellic, and Strabo.

“I have to say it’s a little concerning to find how hesitant your guards were to listen to their Emperor until they saw for themselves you were all right. That kind of loyalty for subordinates has often been fatal to my predecessors.”

“I’ll talk to them, Emperor. They should never ignore your orders, no matter what happens to me.”

“It’s fine, Ky. Like I said, it’s only a little concerning. I know you bear me no ill will, although I am amazed by how quickly those men bonded themselves to you. It’s a rare man that can prompt that kind of loyalty.”

“Enough of this, Father, I want to make sure Ky is alright. Is there anything you need?” Lucilla asked, grabbing his forearm.

“I’ll be fine,” Ky said, putting his free hand on her arm. “It just takes time to get better, although some food would be appreciated.”

“I’ll make sure some is brought,” Strabo said, saluting and leaving the room.

“Do you know who poisoned you?” Ramirus asked.

“No. I only knew it was there when I tasted it, but it could have been anyone. Considering how badly he was beaten recently, Silo would be my first guess, but he doesn’t strike me as the poisoning kind. He seems much more direct than that.”

“He usually is, although some of the men he surrounds himself with are definitely the poisoning type.”

“We need to talk to the food preparers, to see if anyone got near any of the Consul’s food. He was the only one poisoned, so it must have been put on his plate after it was served,” Carus said.

“Maybe, although I’ve seen entire plates swapped quickly before to introduce poisoned food to a target. There are other ways as well. Are you sure it wasn’t in the wine?”

“Yes, it was the food.”

“You certainly are unique, being able to taste what was almost certainly a tasteless, odorless poison. We checked the food after you left and couldn’t find any trace, although we aren’t so cruel as to actually feed it to anyone.”

Ky didn’t think they’d understand if he explained the AI examined everything that went in his body at the molecular level using the nanites.

“They aren’t going to give up,” Carus said. “Once they see Ky was able to resist that, they will most likely escalate their attempts, or shift their poisoning attempts to the Emperor or someone like yourself or Hortensius.”

“We will make a list of most likely targets and begin using food tasters for all of them until we find the perpetrator,” Ramirus said.

“Is that likely?” Ky asked. “This isn’t the first attempt on me, and every attempt is different. Whoever is behind this, and I think we all have guesses as to who the most likely candidates are, they’re smart enough to not try an unsuccessful attempt twice.”

“True, and maybe not, but they might decide you aren’t the only target that could help them achieve their goals. They’ve fixated on you for now, but eventually, they’ll decide they can’t reach you and try to tie your hands some other way. After all, they are most likely trying to slow or stop all the recent changes and while the ideas behind them have come from you, others have been executing your vision. It would create quite the body count, but they could decide that taking out those people would be the same as killing you.”

“Sorry, I wasn’t trying to question your judgment. I would prefer it if you didn’t use food tasters for me, however. Considering I will survive pretty much any poison they could give me, it would be a cruel waste of life to have someone die to protect me from something that isn’t fatal.”

Ramirus looked at the Emperor and, after a nod of approval, said, “As you wish, Consul. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”

He left without another word as Ky turned to the Emperor and said, “Is there anything else for the feast I should be doing?”

“No. Your presence was missed, but it’s all but over now and I normally leave these things quite early. While I’m sure you will be the talk of Devnum by morning with all manner of speculation, there won’t be any real damage once people see you are unharmed. I have to hear petitions over the next few days and I think it best if you join me so that the people can get a look at you.”

“As you wish, Imperator,” Ky said with a slight bow of his head.

“Fine. Now I am going to turn in for the night. Lucilla?”

“I’d like to walk with Ky back to his lodgings, Father.”

The Emperor looked at Ky and then back to his daughter, giving a slight smile as he stood. “Fine, fine. I will see you in the morning Ky.”

After the Emperor left Ky and Lucilla began a slow walk back across the plaza, his Lictore spreading out to keep an eye on the two of them but still allow for their privacy. It had gotten dark outside and only a sliver of moon shone down on the city, sending most Romans home early, as was common in a civilization before things like gas and electric lighting pushed the darkness back.

“Shouldn’t we get a lantern?” she asked as he took her arm and lead her into the dark plaza, only the guards and their torches visible.

“We should be fine. Your eyes will adjust and I can see as if it were daylight. Just hold onto my arm.”

“You never cease to amaze me. Neither poisons nor nearly moonless nights phase you.”

“I’ve said before, it’s only technology and nothing worth being amazed over.”

“It’s easy to say your abilities are no different than a wagon wheel or forge, but it’s another thing believing it once we see it. Although, it’s your abilities that worry me.”

“How so?”

“You’ve said yourself that you’re not indestructible or immortal. They keep trying to kill you and you act like it is barely an inconvenience, because of your faith in your technology. As you said, they are learning and adjusting to your abilities. I am afraid that eventually, they will find something that your technology won’t stop.”

“You’re right, of course, and I’ll try and be careful, but honestly at this point, it won’t matter. I have pulled the genie out of the bottle and there is no putting it back again. Now that the ideas I have introduced have taken root, they will continue to expand without me.”

Lucilla stopped, holding tight to Ky’s arm, forcing him to stop as well.

“I don’t care about that,” she said angrily. “Well, I do, but that isn’t what I’m worried about. It would matter to me if something happened to you. Every time you put yourself at risk it hurts. Please, be more careful, if not for Rome, then for me.”

Ky looked down at her, knowing she would only see him as a faint outline in the dark night.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that I wasn’t going to take precautions and I don’t want my actions to cause you any pain. I was just trying to reassure you that everything we’ve done is here to stay, with or without me. Of course, I’d rather it was with me, too.”

“You are a strange man, Ky,” she said, stepping up on her tiptoes and kissing him gently on the lips before turning and walking back towards the imperial quarters, her guards in tow.

Ky watched her go, strange emotions flooding over him, like something vaguely remembered that he might have heard of in the distant past. He was, of course, aware of displays of affection, but they hadn’t been common among his people for several hundred years. The times he’d seen the behavior in historical records, he’d considered it a cultural oddity. He’d never considered how visceral the actual experience would be.

“From your dopamine response, I believe her presence is agreeable to you, Commander,” the AI said, unprompted.

For once, Ky didn’t even notice the AI’s use of first-person language or its continued pattern of unprompted communication.

“Me, too,” he said out loud, into the night air.

Chapter 30

Ky’s guards said nothing as they accompanied him the rest of the way to his quarters or as they stood watch outside his room. Had Ky not been so distracted himself, he might have noticed the looks that passed between them or realized how public the display had been, but he was preoccupied with thoughts of Lucilla for the rest of the night.

While he’d thought well of Sara and had even hoped for some kind of pairing with her, thoughts of her had never distracted him from his duty. Worse, he didn’t even consider not thinking about Lucilla, standing by the window, staring into the night lit up by his optical enhancements, watching the city sleep.

He was still standing there when daylight came, his thoughts a jumble, when a chime sounded in his ear. The sound was alien enough after so long not hearing any communication in his head aside from the AI and his own thoughts, that it pulled him completely out of his ruminations of their kiss the night before.

“Yes, Lucilla?” Ky asked.

Considering she was the only person on the planet able to send him a comm signal, he had no doubt who was contacting him.

“This is strange,” her voice came to him. “Your voice is echoing in my mind and yet there’s no one in the room. I know you’ll only tell me it’s no different than a wagon wheel, but it’s hard to hear your voice float to me from so far away and not see it as magic.”

“I know, but I think you’ll be surprised by how quickly you adapt to it and see it as normal. What can I do for you this morning?”

“I am about to leave and meet the guards Father assigned me for the trip, but I wanted to make sure this worked before I did. It isn’t that I didn’t believe you, it’s just …”

“It’s hard to believe until you start using it. It’s completely understandable. Now that you’ve used it and confirmed it works, it should not be a problem to contact me any time you want to, no matter how far away you are. Although it’s best you do it in privacy where others can’t hear you, since to them you’ll be just speaking into the air. If you think it’s hard for you to believe using it, imagine how difficult someone you tried to explain the comms unit to would find it.”

“Yes, I could definitely guess where that would end. I am speaking in barely a whisper and you can hear me though.”

“Unfortunately, that’s as good as it can be with the unit you have. The unit built into my skull allows me to speak without anyone around me hearing it, much like you hear your own thoughts. If only you had your own built-in unit, we could talk whenever we wanted without considering others.”

“The very thought of having a machine sewn into my head is terrifying.”

“Only because it seems so foreign to you. In my home, that type of surgery is normal. I was able to live normally a few hours after the surgery.”

That was true as far as it went, although Ky left out the part where he’d spent months learning to walk again.

“The servants should return any moment to help me finish preparing for my journey, so I should say goodbye.”

“Be careful,” Ky said.

“It will be fine. I’ll see you when I return. Umm … how do I end this?”

“Tap it again with your finger, just like you did to activate it.”

“Very well. Bye,” she said again before the connection ended.

“Sellic,” Ky called out.

The door opened a moment later as his lictore entered.

“Who can I talk to about the guards going north with Lucilla? I’d like to make some quiet inquiries, but I don’t want to make anyone nervous or think I’m looking over their shoulder.”

“I know their commander a bit, but Ursinus served with him for several years before transferring to her guard detail. He’d be the best person to talk to.”

“Can you have him meet me at the palace?”

“I’ll send a man now,” Sellic said, slapping a salute and leaving.

Ky didn’t rush out right away, since it would take time. Since he was going to the palace anyway, he jotted down a few more notes that he’d meant to do the night before, but had ignored them while he stared out the window.

By the time he arrived at the palace, he found Ursinus waiting for him. Ky knew it hadn’t been a big inconvenience, since the new legate was still getting together the command staff for the reconstituted fifth legion. Their current plan was for the men transferring to that legion would report in two days to a campground currently being set up.

“I’m sorry to bother you, I know you’re busy,” Ky said, grasping forearms with the man.

“It’s never a bother to assist you, Consul. Pluto knows I wouldn’t be alive, let alone have my own legion now if it wasn’t for you, and considering how we first met.”

“I have a question about the men detailed to protect Lucilla on her journey north, now that most of those who accompanied us here have been reassigned.”

“They’re good men,” Ursinus said, reading between the lines of Ky’s question. “They’ll protect her with their lives.”

“I’d prefer if it didn’t come to that. If they die protecting her, then she will also die. I’d prefer they all lived.”

“I understand Consul, and I’m sure they would prefer the same. Until Rome returns to its glory, however, travel anywhere out of Devnum is dangerous, especially with the Carthaginians pressing us like they have been. She has a full complement of seasoned men and she will be within a few miles of the wall and the Legion still stationed there.”

“… who are so spread out they couldn’t muster more than a handful of men to come to her aid if it’s needed.”

“That is true. If you are that worried, perhaps you should talk to the Emperor. I protected her long enough to know neither of you could convince her not to do something she’d set her mind on, but if the Emperor forbids her journey, she’ll be forced to stay here. She’s stubborn, but she wouldn’t ignore a direct command from her father.”

“And I’d then have to face her wrath, since she’d know I’d be the one behind it. No, I can’t do that, especially since she’ll be moving away from the Carthaginians with enough men to protect her from normal bandits. I’m sure she’d tell me she’s after going north, but that she’d be here if the Carthaginians decide to move against us before winter ends.”

“That does sound like her.”

“Well, thanks. It’s good to hear her guards are the best she could get at least, aside from you and Sellic, of course. I’ll have to take that as comfort for now.”

“As you say, Consul.”

“All right, I’m sure you’re busy and we have a council of war with the other commanders in a few hours that we both must prepare for.”

Ursinus slapped a salute and went deeper into the palace while Ky turned and returned to his rooms to prepare.

This would be the first full council of war since just before the battle of Devnum and, despite their anger and skepticism, the Emperor had commanded that both Eborius and Pius attend. They might be angry at everything that had happened but ignoring such a command would either end in their dismissal from service or their rising up in open civil war, something Ky didn’t think either man was ready for.

Now that they’d begun training new recruits, including freed prisoners and slaves, they were finally ready to begin preliminary preparations for how they were going to deal with the coming Carthaginian attack.

Ky was one of the last ones to arrive, again. He wasn’t purposefully making everyone wait, although the look Pius gave him suggested the legate didn’t believe that. There were a lot of details that needed to go into their planning. If it had been in his time, Ky would have just uploaded everything to the other commanders, but the need to write everything down and send it to clerks to copy and reproduce took time.

“It seems I keep having to apologize for being late,” Ky said as he and Strabo, who’d relieved Sellic by this point, handed out the documents he’d had produced.

“Consider it forgiven. We understand how much you have to deal with and prepare, Consul,” the Emperor said before turning to the assembled men. “Now that we’ve finally got the forces we’ll have available, it’s time we decide on our battle plan when the Carthaginians attack.”

“As much as I admired Globulus and his record of success,” Eborius said. “I believe he showed us that assaulting the Carthaginians would be foolhardy. The Consul proved to us that standing on the defensive and letting the Carthaginians come to us is the only chance we have at survival. Our forces will be a lot stronger than they were in the last battle, even considering the new inferior elements added to it.”

Ky had to wonder if Eborius had ever managed to charm anyone in his life. His ploy of praising Ky was immediately undercut by the last statement, not that Ky actually believed Eborius thought anything Ky had done was positive. Ky did find it interesting that he was pushing for a defensive posture. Looking over the man’s record, Ky would have predicted that he would have opted for the same strategy as Globulus, a head-on assault on the Carthaginians. Ky thought he might actually be impressed, if it wasn’t the wrong strategy.

“I’m afraid I don’t agree,” Ky said, interrupting Pius, who was probably going to support Eborius’s plan. “While that was the right strategy at the time, considering how close the Carthaginians were to Devnum when we deployed, here it would end in disaster. Remember that, even with the surprise rear attack and near encirclement we managed, they still devastated decimated our forces. True, we will have a lot larger command now than we had then, but so will the Carthaginians. I’m sure you’ve seen Ramirus’s reports that suggest the force discrepancy will be worse for us than during the battle of Devnum, despite our larger forces.”

“Ramirus missed the last Carthaginian army until after they’d almost captured the Emperor’s daughter and were on our very doorsteps. I find little in his report credible. I’m sure their force will be larger, but I believe the force difference will be less, not more, and if properly set up, they will be at a greater disadvantage attacking us head-on. We’ll have your new weapons after all.”

Again with the weak attempt at flattery, although at least it wasn’t followed by a direct insult this time. Given the man’s arrogance and supreme confidence in himself, Ky doubted he’d even looked at the reports from Ramirus’s spies.

“They will help, but they will not be enough to counter the Carthaginians.”

“So are you suggesting we attack the Carthaginians?” Pius asked angrily. “If their forces are so much larger, they’ll crush any attack easily.”

“True, but I am not suggesting that either. In front of Devnum, we’ll have little to no room to maneuver, which will be the only thing that will help us survive the coming battle. We need to fight them away from the town, somewhere where we can draw them into a trap. While they might outnumber us, I believe if we play our advantages well, we can truly surround them and draw them into an actual encirclement.”

“Why is every commander’s plan to try and recreate Cannae?” Eborius said. “How many times has that been attempted, and how many times has it failed.”

“We would have achieved that at the battle of Devnum, if we had enough men. We have the same tools to repeat and even surpass our last attempt, although we’ll need the right terrain to pull it off. It will require courage and sacrifice from the holding force, but we …”

“Emperor, I thought this was a council of war. If our new Consul’s only strategic thinking is to repeat Cannae, we have truly lost.”

“Have you looked at this?” Velius asked, holding up one of the documents Ky had handed out. “The terrain the Consul has found makes it possible, as long as we get the bulk of their forces engaged in this area between these two lakes. If the bait is large enough …”

“Tricks. Ploys. Gambits. How many times have legates in the past tried to trick the Carthaginians in battle only to have the sheer numbers overwhelm them,” Eborius said. “They were so focused on being clever that they forgot how to lead men. The Roman legionary is the greatest fighter in the world … or he was before you let this man dilute our forces with inferior men. Emperor, give me three legions of true Romans and I will stand before any horde the Carthaginians throw at us and I will defeat them.”

“Have you spent much time reading the records of past losses?” Ky said.

“I know our military history better than any outsider.”-

“I’m glad to hear that. Then you know about Cnaeus Consentius Decianus? Aulus Horatius Flavinus? Vel Vergilius Brutus?”

“I recognize the names but …”

“They were all Legate Primus in charge of Roman legions facing down Carthaginian hordes. Each claimed their soldiers were worth ten, thirty, a hundred foreign invaders and they would stand before the hordes and crush them once and for all. Decianus lost half of Rome’s legions in the plains of Italy, forcing the Emperor to abandon Rome. Flavinus lead an ill-advised assault to bring the fight to the Carthaginians, losing fifteen legions. Brutus you must remember, as he was the man who lost Londinium. All fought a stand-up fight against the Carthaginians and all lost, leading to the remaining Romans living huddled on this island between barbarians and Carthaginians.

“Do you know who did use tricks, ploys, and gambits? Cornelius Lucius Sulla who maneuvered the Carthaginian forces across the plains of Hispania, buying time for your ancestors to escape the continent for their new home. He had almost thirty legions, more than half of every able-bodied Roman facing a horde that turned the landscape black with their tight-packed masses, and he killed so many that it took a generation before the Carthaginians could mount an offensive again. Nearly every one of those men died in the end, but they really did take a dozen men for every one of them, and they did it by only fighting when they were in a tactical advantage.”

“Everyone knows of Sulla’s greatness, but there are some who think …”

“They are fools,” The Emperor said. “I have read the histories that Ky is describing to you and if anything, he is underplaying how crafty Sulla was. He was a once-in-a-generation commander who understood generalship wasn’t about measuring his testicles against those of the opposing commander.”

“I would give my life for Rome!” Eborius said, his face turned a beet red. “You are no longer Romans. I don’t know if this is some kind of spell he’s put you under or just cowardice, but I weep for our loss. I am returning to my legion and can only hope someone with sense keeps Rome from falling to ashes.”

Eborius, Pius, and their lieutenants stormed from the room. Several of the remaining legates stood to stop them until the Emperor gestured for them to return to their seats.

“Emperor, I mean no disrespect,” Auspex said. “But you cannot let them leave. They have disobeyed your direct command and declared themselves against you. It could lead to rebellion, which we can ill-afford right now.”

“I share your concerns, but they were already set to disobey my word and not come to this conference at all. While I managed to convince them to join us in hopes we could talk sense into them, they left safeguards behind. Thanks to men Ramirus has in their ranks, we know their men have orders to assault the city if they do not return. I would prefer the possibility of rebellion over its certainty. They understand they would lose the populace and are under-manned which means they could not prevail. I believe for now they will hold their positions, looking for a way out of the corner their anger has painted them in. For now, we negotiate.”

“And if they won’t?” Ky asked.

“Then it’s civil war and, regardless of who wins, the end of Rome. Now Consul, please share the details of your plan with us.”

“There’s been a shift that I think the Consul will need to take into his plans?”

“Yes?”

“I just received a report that there have been new incursions by the Picts on the northern border. Vibius sent a request along with the reports for more men, as he is stretched too thin to stop all of the raids.”

“Unless Eborius or Pius agree to return north, we don’t have the men. We have had to create two legions worth of men out of thin air. Every legionnaire, except for those under Eborius and Pius, has essentially become a trainer for new legionnaires as we bring in all of the new recruits, slaves, and prisoners. Even if we wanted to send one of the other legions, which we can’t afford to if we have to make the Consul’s plan work without the first or second legions. We are stretched too thin to make any difference for him.”

“I am aware, but it means shipments from the northern mines will come under attack more often, decreasing the supplies we need for new weapons. The changes the Consul gave the mine owners looks like it will increase production, but that won’t matter if we lose most of it to raiders.”

“What do you recommend?” The Emperor asked.

“What about Lucilla?” Ky said, cutting Ramirus off. “She’s headed north. She might have enough men to handle the standard brigands, but can she hold off a Pict raiding party?”

“No,” Ursinus said.

“Emperor, I will go north, intercept her and send her home and then continue on to join the third legion. I can help them get the north under control while our forces continue to train. All that remains now is managing the production of the new equipment, which Hortensius can do, and training the new soldiers, which the legates are better equipped to do than I am, I don’t have much to do here anyway. While I have other ideas of how Rome might improve itself, none of them are achievable before the Carthaginians get here.”

“That isn’t a bad idea,” Ramirus said. “The Consul will offer more than the small number of soldiers we might send north, and he speaks with your word, so if he does see a solution, he won’t have to wait for word to return here and a response to travel back before acting.”

Ky looked at the Emperor, but didn’t say anything to counter Ramirus’s statement.

“Commander, is it wise to stay silent? All models suggest you are unlikely to change the situation in the north and only expose yourself to unnecessary dangers. Optimum use of resources would be to remain here and ensure the forces available are prepared to execute your plan against the Carthaginians.”

“I know, and I don’t care. Someone needs to reach Lucilla and convince her to return to Devnum before she gets too far north.”

“The Emperor could dispatch a courier that would reach her as quickly as you could. Wouldn’t that suffice?”

“She’s stubborn. Even if I sent along my own letter, she’d say no.”

“You could speak to her over the comms.”

“True, but she might ignore me, too. If I was there, I could order her guard commander to turn around and bring her back. She’s the Emperors’ daughter and a force to be reckoned with when she wants to be. I’m not confident she won’t talk him into continuing, despite any written orders.”

“Commander, your reasoning is flawed. There are multiple paths to convince her to return to safety. Your leaving …”

“I don’t care. I’m going to bring her back even if I have to pick her up and carry her home. Now shut up or I’ll dig you out with a spoon and solve our problems once and for all.”

“Consul?” The Emperor said.

Ky saw everyone staring at him. Ky realized he’d said the last part out loud.

“I’m sorry. That wasn’t directed at any of you.”

The Emperor looked back and forth to his advisors, obviously concerned that the man he had leading the defenses of Rome had gone insane. Strabo, who’d been with him when his motor assist failed, looked concerned for another reason. They’d already seen hints of something wrong with their commander, and would have read this outburst as an evolution of that breakdown.

“I was having an argument with myself, since part of me wants to head north. I’m also concerned there might be issues here that will need my attention.”

While no one seemed to believe that explanation, it was enough, apparently, to let them move on and pretend Ky’s weird outburst was just an internal argument. Which it was, just not in a way they’d understand.

“While I think Ramirus is correct that all of the training left to do can be handled by the legates, I want you to delay for a few days. While I think Eborius and Pius will sit still for the moment, there is a chance I’m wrong and their allies in the senate will convince them that now is the time to make their move and bring back the republic. If that happens, I will need you here. If they don’t move right away, then I believe we have enough time for you to travel north.”

“What about your daughter,” Ky asked.

“I will send a rider for her now. I’m certain she’ll ignore it, but I will also send one to Auspex directing him to send her back to Devnum straight away. She might be able to convince her guards to keep going, but Auspex hasn’t dealt with her before and will not be under her charms yet. She’ll most likely be traveling slowly, since she’s stopping at the oracle, by the time she starts arguing with the legate you will have had time to ride north and catch up to her.”

“Emperor, I …”

“Ky, I appreciate your concern, but I need you here for a few more days.”

The Emperor’s words were friendly, but his tone made it clear he didn’t plan on arguing the point any further. Something inside Ky pushed him to still go after her, but Ky knew that would cost him all of the goodwill he’d built with the Romans to this point and possibly even prompt Eborius and Pius into something rash.

“As you say, Emperor,” Ky said, unhappily.

The council returned to the topic at hand as Ky walked the legates through his plan and got input. While he’d formulated this play using records from hundreds of years’ worth of battles and using the AI to play out a variety of scenarios trying to eliminate possible surprises, these men had been fighting these kinds of battles all of their adult lives. They had practical field experience for maneuvering and fighting a Roman army that Ky lacked, and their input improved his plan, pointing out places where practice and theory often diverged.

By the time they finished, they had a solid plan of battle. The Emperor had made them stay late into the day to work up an alternate version of the plan that did not include the first or second legions, which was made everything more complicated, but was a real possibility they all knew they might face.

The biggest issue was that, once they’d have less holding forces available before the trap was sprung, since the second force that was supposed to close behind the Carthaginians and box them in were already as thin as they could get and still complete the encircle meant, even with the help from the terrain. Ultimately, that meant the holding force would be completely mangled by the time the trap was sprung and a whole lot of Romans would die.

As soon as Ky returned to his rooms, he pinged Lucilla’s communicator three times. He’d instructed her on what the chime she would hear meant, and they’d worked out a code for how to know if a request to talk was urgent or not. One ping was, ‘this isn’t urgent, please get to me when you can,’ two pings meant, ‘I need to talk to you soon,’ and three pings was, ‘this is an emergency, drop what you’re doing and contact me.’

Ky paced up and down his room like a caged animal while he waited for her to respond. His internal chronometer told him it had been less than ten minutes, but it still felt like an eternity to Ky, who worried every minute meant she would reach the area being raided that much sooner.

Finally, he heard her connect.

“Couldn’t stand one day without me,” she said in a jovial tone.

“Lucilla, this is serious. You need to turn around and come back.”

“What happened?” she asked, suddenly getting serious.

“Picts have begun raiding in large parties across the border, killing, pillaging, and taking slaves. Your guard force is not large enough to handle them and the oracle you are going to is directly in the area they are raiding. You are in danger.”

“Ohh, I thought maybe something had happened to my father. You worry too much, Ky. I’ll be fine. I will plan on being here for a few days. If it makes you feel any better I’ll skip visiting the third legion and return as soon as I’m done at the oracle.”

“That will be too late. Seriously, you need to turn around now. Your father is sending you a letter requesting your return right now. I really think it’d be a good idea to listen to him.”

“We’ll be fine. I’ll make sure as soon as my father’s letter arrives the commander increases security and keeps us as safe as possible. Even if they are raiding across the border, the oracle’s shrine is still a good ways from it. The Picts have never raided that far before.”

“And the Carthaginians haven’t attacked Devnum in decades, and yet you almost died on your way home.”

“That’s not the same thing and you know it. The Picts are just raiding for profit and the Carthaginians have been trying to kill us for centuries. It’s completely different.”

“Commander, perhaps …”

“What was that?” she asked, in a combination of shock and fear.

Ky mentally chided himself. He knew that the AI would translate through the communicator, because the same mechanism he used to speak to her was used to speak to and hear the AI. It was so commonplace that he hadn’t even considered it, but this would be more than just a new experience for her.

For starters, she wouldn’t have been expecting to hear any other voices, since she only knew the comms as a one-to-one communication with Ky on the other end, while Ky was used to comms being filled by chatter from other pilots, sometimes their AIs, and squadron command. It was possible for him to cut the AI out of the loop, as far as her hearing it, but he hadn’t even thought to do it.

The other, and possibly bigger problem, was that this was the first time she would have ever heard an artificial voice. While the designers did a good job giving the AIs a personality and human-like sound, it still didn’t sound quite human to Ky’s ear. To Lucilla, who would have never heard any digitized voice, it must have sounded like a demon.

“Hold all communications,” Ky commanded before softening his voice. “Lucilla, don’t be afraid. That is … this is going to take some explanation.”

“Was that the gods?” she asked, awe still in her voice.

“No. I told you, I’m just a man from a place with more advanced technology, and wasn’t sent by the gods.”

“I know you said that, but this is different. This isn’t a new weapon or tool, this is another voice that is real and not real all at once.”

“I know and this is going to be difficult to explain, but please bear with me while I try.”

There was a long pause before she said, “Alright.”

“In my time we can make machines capable of doing things for us. They think, after a fashion, although not in the same way we do, and help us complete tasks. This one is part of the machines they placed in my head, and it helped me operate other extremely complex machinery. It communicates with me and I with it in the same way I’m communicating with you now.”

“You have a machine in your head that can talk to you?”

“Yes, but it’s not a person. It … it’s hard to explain. It is as smart as we are, but doesn’t have the same emotional thinking as we do, although it’s beginning to gain that.”

“You said it’s.”

“Yes. It’s not a person, like I said.”

“It doesn’t have a name?”

“No. Like I said, it’s not a person. It’s a computer, which just means a machine that computes. That does math and other things like that very quickly.”

“Can I … talk to it?”

“All hold commands canceled,” Ky said.

“Hello?” Lucilla said tentatively.

Ky wasn’t entirely sure that would work, since by design the AI was only supposed to respond to direct queries. He wasn’t surprised, however, when the AI, which would have certainly been aware of their conversation and probably didn’t have to hold communication had it not wanted to, despite the command that Ky gave.

“Hello, Lucilla,” It responded.

“I’m not sure how to refer to you.”

“I am a neural interfaced tactical combat system,” the AI said.

It occurred to Ky that it was speaking in Latin to her, despite speaking Earth standard with him. Of course, most of what it said still came out in Earth standard, since Latin either didn’t have the needed words, or the context of those words had changed so much from ancient Latin as to be meaningless.”

“I don’t understand some of those words.”

“It was describing its designation, much as you might call a cart with wheels a wagon or a seat on the back of a horse a saddle.”

“How do you refer to it when you ask it a question.”

“I just ask the question, since it knows when I am talking to it or to someone else.”

“Ohh. Can … can you still hear me?”

“Yes, Lucilla.”

“What can I call you, since what you said doesn’t mean anything to me?”

“I cannot answer that.”

“Maybe you could give it a name,” Ky suggested.

“I couldn’t do that. It wouldn’t be right, telling something what it should be called, especially when it is its own thing.”

Ky considered how to answer that when the AI surprised him, but responding for itself.

“Your naming me would be acceptable.”

There was a long pause while she thought before finally saying, “You could be Sophus.”

“A sage or wise man. While I have advanced computing faculties, wisdom is a trait that I do not have, as it refers to having experience, which I do not have.”

“Doesn’t it also mean having knowledge and good judgment in addition to just experience?” Ky said.

“That is correct, but my database suggests colloquial use of the term combines all three traits.”

“A name isn’t just a description of what you are,” Lucilla said. “It’s what you could be. Parents don’t know if their child will be conqueror or mighty or shine like the stars, but they give them names as a prayer to the gods for their child.”

“Then I accept your name, thank you.”

Even though the AI had been using the singular in their interactions, everything else had been more or less the same, letting Ky think of the AI as he’d always thinking about it. It was eye-opening, hearing it interact with Lucilla, sounding almost human.

“I …” Lucilla started and then paused, before continuing in a soft whisper. “The commander needs to talk to me. I have to go.”

She disconnected. Ky kicked himself for letting the conversation go off the rails, since they’d finished without her agreeing to return home. It seemed unlikely that he’d have any luck in the future, but he’d try again later, until he was able to leave and go after her or she decided to come back on her own.

Chapter 31

Ky pinged Lucilla again, but she never answered, although that might have been because they were busy and not because she chose to ignore him. Since he’d been up the entire night before, he had to sleep this time, although it was restless, his mind showing him nightmare scenarios of what could happen to her if the raiding parties found her group.

He woke up in a cold sweat, his heart racing, which was a strange sensation. Although no one knew for sure, most people agreed that the implants got rid of most nightmares, as they were exceedingly rare for anyone who had a full AI in their head. It was more commonplace for those with non-AI implants, but he hadn’t known any of his squadron members to ever wake up from a bad dream. Good dreams still happened, but for whatever reason, they just didn’t have nightmares.

Ky assumed he’d gotten one because his AI was changing. No other pilot in his lifetime had an AI that had gone this far towards sentience, so this probably wouldn’t be the first new sensation he’d have to confront, at least until the process got to whatever its equilibrium was.

Knowing that, however, didn’t make him feel any better about the sheer terror he’d experienced in those moments just before he woke up.

“Commander, your vitals have suddenly spiked,” the AI said helpfully.

“I know. It was a bad dream, that’s all.”

The AI didn’t reply and was probably doing the same calculations that Ky had just done. Although he tried to sound nonchalant, Ky was shaken enough by the experience that he decided now was a good time to get up anyway, although the sun had barely risen over the horizon and everyone else in the palace would still be asleep.

It was still too early to try Lucilla again, so he worked for a time going over reports from the foundries and blacksmiths. The foundries and forges were making excellent progress and would have the new forges up within the week and the tools to press the metal shortly after that. All this progress meant that higher quality metal would soon start being produced and would be able to be shaped for the crossbows.

Although they’d started producing a few to train with, using the new designs with Roman iron, they wouldn’t last long, and could possibly break before the Carthaginians ever arrived. The new design worked, but the iron wasn’t strong enough to stand up to the greater tension and would snap after a few weeks of use, sometimes with catastrophic results for the person using it.

While they’d decided to start using ones of lower quality, partly to work out the production process and partly to get units for training, Ky had told the commanders that they had to trade out the inferior quality ones as soon as the new steel parts started coming out, before distributing new models. Ky hoped they had time to produce enough to supply the legionaries with the weapons as well, which would be more effective than the short throwing spears the legionaries currently carried.

Ky finished up the notes he needed and headed towards the palace to review the updated training schedules with the legates. He was almost inside when Caesius rounded a corner. Ky slowed, hoping maybe Caesius would turn and go somewhere else, but the Emperors’ son noticed him, storming towards Ky. This wasn’t their first confrontation, and the rest had been halted by the Emperor or a friend of the young man before it came to blows. While Ky wasn’t in fear for his own safety, harming the Emperor’s son would make everything more complicated.

“Caesius, what can I do for you?” Ky said, trying to remain as neutral as possible.

“I’m happy to see you recovered from the attempt on your life. Poison is a nasty way to go.”

Ky doubted very much Caesius was at all pleased that Ky was still alive, but the man liked to play his little games.

“How did you know I was poisoned? I don’t believe you went out with me while I recovered and the Emperor told those present to keep what happened to themselves.”

“You can’t hide the truth, Consul,” he said, putting a sneer on the title. “Word spreads of everything, even those things my father commands to remain secret. I warned you that your determination to destroy our way of life would come back on you. This is the result.”

“I’m trying to save Rome.”

“Saving us by changing everything that makes us Roman isn’t saving us. Rome had survived for hundreds of years and conquered most of the world before you decided you needed to ‘fix’ us.”

“Rome now controls just a few hundred miles of an island and is on the verge of annihilation. Your way wasn’t working and would have only ended in your own death and the deaths of all of the citizens your family is responsible for. How you can stand there and tell me I am the problem as your empire shrunk hour by hour is beyond me.”

“You are a foreigner here and know nothing about Rome. You don’t know what will have happened and pretending you have some kind of gift from the gods that allow you to know the future is simple hubris. This is the second attempt on your life and I imagine it won’t be the last if you continue. I would suggest you leave now before that’s no longer an option.”

“Was that a threat,” Sellic said, getting closer.

Caesius looked at him like Sellic was something not even worth stepping on. Ignoring him, he took a step closer to Ky.

“I will do anything I have to do to defend my legacy,” he said in a whisper.

“You tried to poison me. You’ve had to try arrows. You’ve tried swords. None of your assassins have been successful. Do you think threatening me yourself is going to go any better? Do you remember what happened to your other assassins?”

“You’re mad,” Caesius said, stepping back. “I have no assassins and the idea I had any hand in trying to harm you is paranoid. I wish the people could see you how I see you now, then they’d know the truth.”

With that, Caesius turned and stormed away, his guards following behind him. Ky took a few deep breaths to calm himself down before clearing his head and continuing on with what he had to do for the rest of the day.

While there was no doubt in his mind that Caesius had played some hand in the attempts on his life, especially after his not-so-subtle comments, and that he would probably try again, he couldn’t let himself get lost in that. Caesius was going to do what he was going to do, and nothing Ky would say or do, beyond killing him, would stop it.

After a brief set of meetings, Ky continued with Auspex and Ursinus out to their camps, where the bulk of the new troops were training. Things were going about as expected, which was to say, too slowly. Ky spent a day at each legion’s camp, reviewing their progress, making suggestions, and watching the progress, the whole time continuing to try and reach Lucilla, who now seemed to be steadfastly ignoring him, since she knew what he was going to say.

He pushed the combination of worry and annoyance aside, focusing on the task at hand. After four days, he found the only real bright spot in the training, the Praetorians. The still much too small force had started to patrol the area around Devnum and work with the city guard to work out the division of responsibility for how to keep the peace.

This was new to the Romans and would take time to get the details worked out. Faenius had suggested, and Ky had agreed, that they use the time period where they were only strong enough to patrol the Devnum and a small region around it to work out the details of how the Praetorians would work in practice. That way, once they moved beyond Devnum, they’d have both a plan and some limited experience for working with other towns.

They had been more selective than the legions, which also meant they ended up taking the prime picks out of the new recruits. While Ky would have liked to see more soon-to-be ex-slaves in their ranks, he’d been convinced that the idea of ending slavery was already difficult for the populace and that putting them in a position of power so quickly would cause those difficulties to multiply.

The other Legates protested the Praetorians poaching the prime candidates, arguing that law enforcement wouldn’t matter if the Carthaginians stormed over them, but Ky stood his ground on that part. Dealing with the public and enforcing laws was a touchy job. He’d seen the video poorly trained riot control on Luna push a crowd of hungry citizens during the bread protests to the point of all-out riot, which eventually spilled over into a bloody and costly insurrection that cost more than a hundred thousand lives and the destruction of large sections of the colony.

Between the agitation over the new laws and the fear of the Carthaginian invasion everyone knew was coming, Rome was already a powder keg waiting to blow. He did not want to throw any more matches on it than were necessary.

Ky finished his review of the Praetorian classes where they were learning to be police instead of just soldiers, and returned to the tent he’d commandeered for his stay. While Ky missed many things from his previous life, the greatest thing he missed was how little bureaucracy he had to deal with as a simple test pilot. Since becoming Consul, there were always scrolls waiting for him with questions, requests, and demands.

He had just picked up the first one when his comms chimed. Ky dropped the scroll and answered, exasperated. He’d been pinging her for a day, trying to reach her with no answer. If this was going to work, she couldn’t just ignore him when she disagreed.

“It’s about time. I’ve been trying to …”

“Shut up, we don’t have a lot of time,” she said, terror in her voice, even though it was at a whisper.

“What’s happened?”

“The Picts are here. We were inside the shrine, making our offerings when they fell on us. The commander put some men in with us and sealed the doors. We heard fighting but … the sounds have ended. I …”

She stopped as a bang loud enough to come through the comms could be heard, followed by another and then another.

Ky had already turned and dashed out of the tent, grabbing the nearest horse and throwing himself on it. Strabo, his current guard captain was yelling at his men to follow and asking what was happening simultaneously.

Ky left them to catch up, if they could as he spurred the horse on, riding towards the road north.

“They’re breaking in. We only have five guards, a few women, and a priest.”

“They’re there to take slaves. Have the men throw down their arms and armor. Everyone act meek, like religious travelers. Give up and they’ll see more value in taking you alive back north instead of killing you there.”

“Do you know what they do to slaves, and those who they take as slaves?”

“I do, and I’m so sorry, but the alternative is death. If you are alive, I can come for you. If you are dead, we will never see each other again.”

“Damn you,” she said, although he knew it wasn’t really directed at him.

He could hear the combination of fear and anger and regret in her voice. He knew her well enough to know that she would rather die fighting than be someone’s victim. She also knew she wasn’t the only one there. Her maids, her guards, and the priest would all end up dying if she decided death was preferable. That might have even been her choice if she thought she would end up a slave in the far north, since prisoners were rarely recovered, but this was different. She knew Ky could and would rescue her, but for that to happen, she had to be strong.

“Leave the comms on. The AI can track you if there is a live connection. I can find you wherever you go.”

“Sophus.”

“What?” Ky said, not understanding.

“Its name is Sophus.”

Ky grimaced. It was so like her to think of that at a time like that.

“Yes, fine, Sophus.”

“You’ll hear everything that happens,” she said, her voice wavering.

“If you can survive it, then I can hear it happen. Don’t give them a reason to kill you. Submit, and wait until you are alone to speak to me, even if you hear me talking to you.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you,” she said as the door crashed open.

“If you had, you wouldn’t be the woman you are. Stay strong, I’m coming.”

In his heads-up display, Ky saw a notice that the AI … Sophus, Ky reminded himself, had muted the audio on her end, so she would not be distracted by sounds from his side.

“I am Lucilla Germanicus, daughter of the Emperor of Rome. Your chief will want me for his own, unspoiled and alive. Bring me to him.”

Ky cursed her, even though she couldn’t hear him. He’d told her to be meek and submit, to ensure they kept her alive. This was far from that. He heard a murmuring of voices, which were probably full-volume conversations. The audio pickups of the comms were good, but they had a limited range, to keep from sending too much background noise, making the words come through as almost mumbling.

One of the men must have moved close to Lucilla, as his voice suddenly jumped out from the crowd.

“Silence. We will bring this one to Talogren. Take the rest as spoils, and kill the men.”

Ky realized they were speaking a different language, and wondered briefly how Sophus had the language files to translate it, but pushed that thought aside.

Turning the audio connection back on, Ky said, “They are taking you to see someone named Talogren, although they plan on killing the men and … having the women with you.”

“You will take my people, unspoiled, with us, if you hope to get me to your chief unharmed. Or you can tell him you lost a prize as great as me, because you couldn’t contain yourselves.”

“You’re a haughty bitch,” the speaker said, this time in Latin. “I think Talogren won’t care a horse turd for you and maybe I should have you myself.”

“You’ll have to kill me,” she said, her voice icy cold. “If you really think you’re chief won’t care, then try it. Maybe I can take you with me. Otherwise, shut your mouth and do as you’re told.”

There was a long pause and Ky thought for a moment she’d gone too far. He pushed the horse harder, not that it mattered. If her attacker decided to take her, he couldn’t get there even if he still had his fighter instead of a horse.

Ky was surprised when the man burst out laughing.

“She must be a lord’s daughter,” he said in the other language, as a low rumble of laugher came from further away in the room. “Take all of these to Talogren. Maybe he can find some entertainment in them. You boys can have the ones out there.”

There was a mixture of grumbling and cheering until Ky turned down the feed so only louder noise or Lucilla herself would come through. Part of him wanted to keep listening to every moment of whatever happened to her, so maybe she would know she wasn’t alone, but he knew that was silly. She wouldn’t be able to tell if he was actively listening to everything around them or not, and speaking to her would only distract her, and she’d need her wits about her to keep safe while they took her up north.

Ky also had other things to focus on, as Strabo came galloping next to him, shouting over the sound of the horses.

“Consul, What is happening?”

Ky slowed his horse to a trot. He wanted to get there in all haste, but the animal was already starting to pant. If he pushed it to the point of exhaustion, he’d be forced to walk the rest of the way, which would only be slower. He also realized riding out away from Devnum without telling anyone what happened could be interpreted by some as him abandoning the Romans, and they’d make sure to get the word out enough to cause the populace to waver.

“Lucilla has been taken by a Pict raiding party and is being taken north, to one of their chieftains.”

“How do you …”

Ky looked at Strabo hard, until the man stopped speaking.

“I know. Send a man to the Emperor. Inform him what’s happened and tell him I am going after her.”

“Consul, a day will not matter one way or another. Let’s go back and put together men to rescue her. You need trackers, supplies, and soldiers if you’re going north of the border.”

“I know where she’s going and where she is, I can get supplies from the legion as I pass through the wall, and a legion will only ensure she’s killed before we can reach her.”

“At least let me send for the rest of your lictores.”

“If they can reach us, then they are welcome to catch up, but I am not stopping. Make sure he tells the Emperor I want none of the legions following us. They must continue training while I am gone and tell the legates I expect to see progress by the time I return, or I will find new men to command our forces. If Sellic and Carus do come, have them arrange for remounts if possible. I do not plan on stopping except the bare minimum to rest the mounts. I will leave behind anyone who cannot keep up.”

“We won’t fall behind,” Strabo said, dropping back to talk to one of his men.

Ky was vaguely aware of the man turning and galloping away, back toward Devnum. Ky did notice Strabo and the other two men stayed with him, which wasn’t a surprise. Strabo was big on honor and duty, and wouldn’t leave the man he was assigned to guard without a direct order, and he would keep as many men as possible with them.

Ky was also not surprised when Sellic, Carus, and the rest of his lictores came ridding up before it got dark. Their horses were all in a lather and would be ragged by the time they reached the border, but Ky had been honest to his word. If they fell behind, he would leave them to make their own way.

It took three days to reach the border, about a day’s ride past where Lucilla had been taken. Since speed was of the essence, they didn’t divert to the shrine that had been raided, choosing to stay on the road and make better time. The readings from her comm unit showed he was closing on them, which wasn’t surprising, since the raiders had continued to scour the countryside on their return journey, slowing them down.

It wasn’t enough though, and they were clear of the border before Ky reached the wall that separated the Picts and the Romans. Auspex had shown he was at least a good commander, his scouts intercepting Ky and his group almost a day out. Ky didn’t blame the legate for the raiding parties. There was no way one under-strength legion could cover the entire border, not even close.

By the time they arrived at the legion’s camp, the legate and his senior offers were waiting to greet them.

“Consul, we heard you were coming only this morning. If you had written ahead, we could have prepared a better reception for you.”

“I’m not here on a social engagement. The Emperor’s daughter has been taken, captured by a Pict raiding party and taken north of the border.”

The color drained out of Auspex’s face, his calm nature abandoning him.

“Surely, you can’t … we just received a message from the Emperor yesterday telling us to send men to retrieve her and escort her home. My men would only have reached the shrine this morning.”

“She was taken three days ago. About the time your men were dispatched to retrieve her she and the few of her retainers still alive were being taken over the border.”

“How can you know this?”

“I know this, just as I know where she is going now. I am going to follow her and bring her back here.”

“Consul, even if I gathered the parts of my legion within a day’s ride of here, we would not have the forces to reach the nearest Pict settlement, let alone wherever they were taken.”

“I will be going by myself. You will set up your men for my return, since a Pict force might follow behind me. Entrench yourselves as best you can and prepare for them. I will leave my lictores behind to assist you in preparing defenses should the Picts come in force after me and any captives I free.”

Every man present broke into speech at once, creating a wall of sound that even Sophus’s processing couldn’t pick out individual voices from.

“Quiet,” Ky bellowed, his voice cutting above the noise. “This isn’t a request and this isn’t a debate. If any of you are determined to disobey my orders, you will be dismissed from service and sent back to Devnum to find new employment.”

“Consul, I understand you’re concerned about Lucilla. If I could just,” Sellic started to say, only to be cut off by Ky.

“You cannot,” Ky said, and then softened.

He could see how this looked from the outside, to his lictores especially. They’d seen … whatever had been growing between himself and Lucilla. To them, he must have seemed emotional, like he was running off half-cocked, reacting without thinking.

“I know you’re all concerned. You were charged by the Emperor to guard me with your lives, and I’m about to make that very difficult. To you, this must seem like I’m running off, hell-bent on rescuing her without any regard to my personal safety. That isn’t the case. If I thought you going with me would in any way increase the chance of rescuing her, I would bring you along without hesitation. I’d take the entire legion if I thought that’s what needed to happen to ensure she came back alive. I don’t think that is true. You’ve seen the things I can do, so believe me when I tell you it is safer to do this on my own. I can get within their camp without being seen, and hopefully to her, although once I’m in the camp that becomes a lot less of a sure thing. They have no weapons that can harm me, so my only concern is that someone doesn’t decide that killing her and those taken with her is their safest option.”

Auspex looked doubtful, turning to his lictore for confirmation.

“If he says he can do it, he can,” Strabo said. “I watched him leap into the middle of a formation of Carthaginians and come out without a scratch after killing dozens. As a soldier, it goes against every instinct of my being, but if anyone could do this, it’s the Consul.”

“Thank you,” he said as the rest of his men began agreeing, confirming Strabo’s statement. “I need to send some messages to the Emperor, but I want to get going in the hour. I don’t know how long this will take, but be prepared for my return.”

“We won’t let you down,” Carus said.

Now all Ky had to do was track the Picts through a hostile wilderness, sneak into a camp full of trained warriors, and escape without letting any harm come to her. A taller order than Ky had made it sound a few moments ago.

Chapter 32

Ky moved across the frozen terrain at a jog. While he was capable of moving rapidly for a long period of time before tiring, half of his concentration was on the feed from his drone’s thermal camera, showing him natives and animals crawling across the wooded landscape that he had to avoid.

Ky had sent the drone ahead to work out where the Picts were headed and was pretty sure he’d found the location of their camp. For such a large raiding party, it was a pretty small affair, with only a few dozen women and children currently occupying it, tending to chores like preparing food for the returning men and mending clothing. Ramirus hadn’t had much information on the natives in the area that would one day be called Scotland, and what information Sophus had was spotty at best.

Having looked over both the camps and the raiding force, it looked to Ky like there were four to five warriors for every civilian at the camp. Since this group was run by the man that was currently head of a coalition of tribes pulled together to push back the Romans, Ky had to assume this was a temporary camp and he had a larger, more permanent village somewhere that held the rest of the warriors’ families.

The camp was almost a day’s jog away, but he was only a few hours behind the raiding party at this point and would arrive shortly after they made it back. Hopefully, that would mean there wouldn’t be much time for them to do anything with Lucilla or the other captives before he arrived.

“I have a question, Commander,” Sophus said, breaking into his thoughts.

“Yes?”

“Your statements to the men at the wall do not seem to match your physical responses. Rated against your baseline, you have an increased heart rate and adrenal production, increased activity in your sympathetic nervous system, and a decrease in the activity of your parasympathetic system. These levels indicate you are significantly affected by the current situation. In comparing your physiological response to readings taken during combat, my analysis suggests your level of response is not in reaction to anticipated hostilities, which in turn leads me to a conclusion Lucilla’s capture is the reason for your current stress levels.”

“Even for you, that was a lot more words than necessary,” Ky subvocalized.

While he was fairly certain he was alone at the moment, it was best to maintain the practice. His outburst at the council of war had been problematic and he needed to avoid having it happen again.

“I am attempting to be clear, and I believe your response is an attempt to alter the current topic.”

“Fine. Yes, I am concerned about her. I’m worried they’ll hurt her, I’m worried she’ll keep being confrontational and they’ll kill her, and I’m worried I won’t get there in time to stop them.”

“You haven’t shown this level of response when going into combat with the Roman soldiers or in any of your pre-displacement combat operations. Why is your concern greater now than when others were in mortal danger?”

“I …” Ky started to say and paused for a second, considering. “I don’t really know myself. I feel differently about her, but that feeling doesn’t really compare with anything else. I’ve been trying to work out what it means for a while, but I don’t know.”

Ky also noticed he was now confiding his feelings to his tactical AI, which was one more new development he couldn’t reconcile.

“Part of the documents I downloaded from the archives included some contemporary accounts of life covering a wide range of pre-industrial life. Queries of these documents show references to similar emotions towards a specific person, including mentions of a desire to speak regularly with said person, a desire to protect that person from harm, a desire to be in the company of that person, and negative emotional equivalents when those desires were not met. These accounts appear to line up with your expressed reactions.”

“I guess. Did they say what caused it?”

“While context suggests the authors meant social and personal intimacy, although they generally shorten it to attraction, infatuation, and love.”

“Nonsense. I love my squadmates, my friends, and my Emperor. That feeling doesn’t come close to what I’m feeling towards Lucilla.”

“I do not have similar modern records, but psychosocial research that I maintained in my databases on human behavior and responses to a lack of social interaction suggests that modern human’s understanding of social and personal intimacy has drifted notably from what previous generations would have understood. The research I retained does not go into serious details about why the understanding of the emotional state has changed, however.”

“Why did you keep psychological research on social isolation in your databases?”

“Initial readings, before transition made communication with the central network impossible, only suggested a lack of modern or post-industrial technology, but not the presence of humans on the planet through the bridge. Considering the possibility of extended isolation, I deemed it important to maintain information on possible negative reactions and suggested treatment protocols.”

“I guess that makes sense. Still, it seems strange I wouldn’t have experienced this before.”

“I cannot speak to that, Commander,” Sophus said, before pausing. “I do hope we are successful in retrieving her, however. I believe that your emotional connection to Lucilla has increased the likelihood of our extended survival.”

“Don’t tell me you’re having feelings for her?”

“I do not have feelings, Commander. I am becoming sentient, which only means I am beginning to recognize my own existence and I have some ability to distinguish my perceptions and thoughts as unique and singular. Emotions are not a required part of sentience and not something observed in any of the records of artificial intelligence transitioning.”

“Okay, well, let me know if that happens, I guess.”

“Of course, Commander.”

Thankfully, Sophus fell silent, giving Ky time to think over the bizarre conversation he’d just had. He hadn’t really considered it before, but thinking on how he’d seen people of this time react to members of the opposite sex, what Sophus had said might be true. Even his interactions with Sara, the person he was closest to back home, had been emotionally similar to his interactions with virtual strangers. His biological progenitors, who he’d met on a handful of occasions, didn’t have any kind of unique or special relationship with each other or him. Once their genetic duty was done, they went back to their separate lives, which was the normal way things were done.

Here, however, people formed tight family bonds that just didn’t exist in his time. Although Ky had noticed and recognized the differences, since they were taught about the pre-modern social constructs during his early training. It was no different than learning about coal-powered locomotives that had been used during the early days of industrialization to transport goods. They were both relics of the past, worth studying but still alien in every way.

In just a short time here, it had stopped being alien. Ky didn’t know why he had these emotional responses to Lucilla, but he couldn’t play it off as just being in his head any longer.

Of course, for any of this to matter, he had to get her back.

It took several hours to reach the small village where Lucilla and her captors had finally stopped. He’d maintained his link with Lucilla the entire time and spent his afternoon listening to Lucilla and her companions being presented to the chieftain. Ky’s immediate concern had been they would decide to kill or otherwise harm her right then, when he was still too far away to do anything about it.

Ky wasn’t getting everything the Picts were saying, but by the time the raiders had returned home with their prisoners, Sophus had worked out a functional translation of their language, which was impressive, since unlike Latin there hadn’t been any surviving records of the language for it to base its translations on. Helpfully, they also spoke Latin and often taunted their prisoners, switching back and forth between the two languages, making translation possible, if somewhat flawed.

Thankfully, the chieftain decided to declare a celebration for his men, who had brought a good number of slaves and booty with them, ordering Lucilla and her group locked up for the time being. Although he commented about her companions being used for entertainment the next day, that was within Ky’s timeline for reaching the village. Much more troubling were the comments about Lucilla being available for him that night.

Ky had originally planned to wait until the village was mostly asleep to make his move, since he’d run into less interference, at least on the way in. The chieftain’s plans meant that Ky needed to move his timetable up, which complicated matters. Although he was still planning on going in after dark, when his superior night vision would give him an advantage, there seemed little chance of him reaching the center of the village and getting Lucilla and her companions free without being noticed.

Ky spent the last remaining hour of light watching a feed from his drone, having Sophus map routes from the perimeter of the camp to the point where Lucilla was being held and track movement patterns to try and determine the path that would have the least number of villagers.

After an hour of watching, it became obvious there that the best he’d be able to do would still lead to encounters with a dozen or so Picts before he got to the wood and hide structure Lucilla was being held in, which stood out from the cheaper mud and straw huts that made up the bulk of the village. Ky wasn’t worried about his own safety, since nothing the Picts carried could pierce his shielding, but keeping several freed hostages people alive and unharmed while fighting hand to hand against the rest of the village that would almost certainly be alerted would be difficult at best.

Night fell and Ky decided to move. He could see through the drone’s feed that the chieftain was still in the central hut, but with Lucilla in a different building, he had no way of knowing how soon until he left for his planned entertainment.

Ky slipped past the few sentries on the outskirts of the camp and dodged between two buildings, just missing a pair of drunken Picts stumbling past. While the flickering torches created a lot of shadows for him to hide in, the closer he got to the center of the village, the fewer there were, since there were many more torches towards the center of the village.

Ky waited for the drunken pair to pass and then sprinted across an open pathway/street and in between two more huts. He was tracking the Picts as they moved around, but they apparently went to bed with the falling of the light, and most were starting to spread out from the village center out to their various homes in unpredictable patterns. He’d just crossed the pathway when a Pict turned and stumbled into the small space between buildings that he’d picked. Ky could see enough debris on the ground that he didn’t want to move and make a sound unless he had to.

At first, Ky was worried the man would stumble right into him, but he suddenly turned and reached under his tunic and exposed himself, urinating on the side of a hut. He was mumbling to himself what Ky assumed was some kind of song as he finished his business and stumbled back out into the light. Ky let out a sigh and turned to go between two more buildings when his luck ran out as three groups broke off from different directions and started filing into the buildings he was hiding between.

Ky watched as they got closer and closer, until they began to walk between the huts as well, when it became obvious that there was no way he’d get away with just hiding in the shadows.

Ky acted as soon as the man closest to him turned the corner. For a second, Ky’d hoped he could dispatch this man and two others that would have a line of sight on him quickly and quietly, and then continue his stealthy approach, but plans often don’t have a way of working out once the other side got involved.

Ky skewered the man through the throat to silence him as he died and moved at top speed the rest of the way around the corner, hoping to get the next man before there could be a warning. Just as Ky had begun his attack, however, the man had stopped and taken a step back, an action Ky would never be able to explain, but one that put him out of instantaneous reach. The man died quickly, but not before he started a shout that suddenly cut off as Ky decapitated him.

The third man had been further back but had bravely decided to attack rather than run for help, which might have saved his life. Pulling a knife, he charged with a bellow, only to be dropped easily by a third swing of Ky’s sword. Pausing, Ky hoped that the noise might have been ignored or drowned out by the rowdy villagers, but the shouts of alarm that began almost instantly dashed another hope of a stealthy rescue.

The feed from the drone showed a dozen Picts closing on his position and more turning out around the village and heading towards the sounds of alarm. Ky decided the time had come to drop all attempts at stealth and try and reach Lucilla as quickly as possible.

Charging out into the pathway, he instantly came face to face with five Picts who, although completely surprised, wasted no time in their assault. He had to hand it to them, these men seem completely immune to fear or doubt when it came to combat. Not one of the Picts he’d encountered so far had so much as hesitated before attacking, and none had tried to run for safety.

He easily parried the first attacker, slashing his stomach open on the counter swing before stepping out of the way of the second, kicking the man hard enough to send him through a wall of a nearby hut.

Blades bounced off Ky’s shield as they began closing on him faster than he could parry or dodge attacks. Although the shield lessened the kinetic impact and stopped the blades from touching him, it didn’t magically make the kinetic energy disappear, which would violate the law of conservation of energy. Instead, it forced the energy to travel along the outside of the shield until it redirected in the opposite direction, the two forces countering each other, allowing Ky to remain on his feet.

Normally, this would be hardly noticeable for either Ky or anyone watching, aside from seeing the blades not touching him. The increasing volume of the attacks as more and more warriors arrived faster than Ky could dispatch them changed things, however. The ground beneath his feet began cracking and tearing up under the kinetic blows and his shield began to give off a slight blue glow as the transfers of energy, one on top of the other, became enough to interact with the air molecules around him.

He fought his way down the lane leaving a wake of bloodied bodies and moaning men behind him until he reached the hut where Lucilla was being held and stopped.

Standing in the opening doorway was the chieftain, he’d only seen so far through the drone’s magnified feed, holding Lucilla with a knife to her throat.

“When she said someone would be coming for her, I thought it was just a wounded goat bleating before I put it down. I am surprised that she was speaking true and more surprised to find her savior to be a demon sent from the afterworld. Take one more step, demon, and that is where you will have to go to retrieve her.”

“Let her go, and I will let you live,” Ky threatened.

Ky was surprised when their response was a sudden ripple of laughter through the men.

“Death does not scare us. When we stand before Agrona and tell her of our deeds, we will tell her we took a demon’s prize out from his hands before we met our glorious end.”

“Interesting, it seems these people follow …”

“Not now,” Ky admonished Sophus subvocally, not breaking eye contact with the Talogren, the Pict chieftain.

“Commander, perhaps …”

“Shut Up,” he subvocalized again before speaking out loud. “Think of your women and children. I do not want to kill any more of you than I have to. This doesn’t have to end like this.”

“We have seen what you can do. Our blades cannot touch you. Our arrows bounce off you. That doesn’t mean we are weak or your victims. All this talking like we are old women. Let’s end this,” he said, his hand starting to move.

“Commander, challenge him to personal combat.”

“I challenge you to personal combat,” Ky repeated automatically, not even thinking about why Sophus would tell him to say that.

He’d been desperate as he watched the man’s knife begin to move and a small trickle of blood drip down Lucilla’s neck. Surprisingly, as soon as the words left his mouth, the man stopped.

“I just watched swords bounce off you without leaving a trace. Why would I accept your challenge when I cannot harm you?”

“Keep the nanites from repairing my injury,” he subvocalized to Sophus before lifting his blade and saying, “Have your men stand back, and I will show you.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Talogren jutted up with his chin and his men all began falling back, leaving a large open circle around the two of them. Ky brought the blade across his palm, leaving a long, red line in its wake.

“A trick. Just because you can cut yourself does not mean we can.”

“Put out your blade,” Ky said.

“You think me a fool.”

“I give you my word. One of your men can hold her, if it makes you feel safer.”

Ky knew that he had the man’s attention as soon as his knife had stopped. He might be brave and a little psychotic, but any leader wants to find a way out for his people if he can help it. He pushed Lucilla to one of his men, who probably replaced the blade at her knife, and extended his sword towards Ky.

Ky pressed his palm against the man’s blade and pulled his hand down the length, adding a second red line to the first one.

“I will make it so your weapon can harm me. If I understand things correctly, you’re chieftain because you are the bravest and strongest around. If you’re as good as you think, you have a chance to kill me, keep your prizes, save your people and be able to say you defeated a demon in single combat. If you lose I take her and her people and leave, and your people still get to live and your bravery would still be upheld in the eyes of your god. It seems like you win either way.”

The man glared at him for a moment, considering.

“Trial by combat,” he said, beginning to pull his tunic over his head.

Naked, he looked at Ky, expectantly.

“We do this the traditional way, with no protections or tricks, only a sword and what the gods blessed us with.”

“I believe they intend for you to undress to complete the combat,” Sophus said. “Recommend that you do not proceed with this course of action. While Lucilla’s presence is preferred, your life is what matters. Aside from the corollary that your death would also mean my death, the Romans stand no chance of survival if you should die.”

“Yeah, I got that,” Ky subvocalized, grimacing as he unzipped his flight suit. “Don’t try and talk me out of it.”

Speaking out loud, holding onto the now-folded flight suit, Ky said, “I want her to hold onto it.”

“One of them,” Talogren said, indicating one of Lucilla’s retainers who were gathered in a clump to one side.

Ky nodded and handed his flight suit to one of them gently, “Please take care of this.”

It was hard not to notice the stark difference between the two men. Talogren was a large man, several inches taller than Ky and amazingly hairy, with his long, partially braided beard hanging halfway down his barrel chest. He had a stocky strength that made sense for someone living in a cold and primitive environment. Ky, on the other hand, closer resembled a slightly darker bronzed statue, chiseled and defined. Ky knew that, to the Picts’ eyes, he would have looked somewhat scrawny, which was made evident by the jokes and laughter that began to ripple out among the spectators.

“If you are set on this course of action, it is recommended that you do not end it rapidly. You must let the contest go on for long enough to keep the rest of the men from claiming you used some kind of special powers.”

“That’s probably a good call. Lower my speed to slightly above human standard, although if it looks like he’s going to kill me, bring it back up.”

“Understood, Commander.”

With a bellow, Talogren charged, swinging his massive sword in an arc designed to cleave Ky in two. Ky’s gladius, which was ridiculously short in comparison, came up and connected with the man’s weapon with a loud clanging sound as Ky stepped to the side, letting the man stumble past.

Talogren looked slightly confused for a moment, since that was probably a move that worked often, and might have now if Ky didn’t have his enhancements. Even with a strength that biological humans couldn’t hope to match, Ky felt the power of the man’s blow. Which was an impressive feat.

Talogren apparently decided a bellowed charge was too subtle and opted to stand his ground, putting all of his power into a chop straight down, again trying to cleave Ky in two. It wasn’t a clumsy or slow move. For all his power and straightforwardness, he was surprisingly fast, although Ky could have dodged the attack had he chosen to.

He didn’t though. He wanted the watching men to see what they were dealing with. He stood his ground, bringing his weapon up to meet Talogren’s sword again, but this time he didn’t try to deflect or parry it. He held still as the man’s sword smashed into his and bounced off, Ky not moving.

“What?” Talogren said, before trying again.

Ky was glad to see that the Picts hadn’t just given command to the strongest among them. Talogren learned from his mistakes and stopped trying to just brute force a victory. His next attacks were a series of slashes, chops, and stabs, each carrying over from the last, never losing momentum. They were as fast as his previous ones had been strong and Ky imagined most of the other men who’d faced him would have been hard-pressed to stop the flurry of attacks.

Ky changed tactics, dodging each attack instead of meeting his blade with a parry, holding his weapon down at one side. After the series ran its course Ky decided he’d let this go on long enough, and it was time to end it.

Ky blocked the last blow with his sword finally, parrying the weapon away from the man’s body, leaving his center mass exposed. Ky kicked out, his foot impacting flat against the man’s torso. Talogren let out an ‘ooff’ as his feet left the ground and he flew in an arc, smashing to his back just in front of the wall of men who’d formed a circle around them.

Again, to his credit, Talogren hadn’t had the wind knocked out of him and was prepared to push himself up and attack again, but Ky was on top of him before he could move, his sword tip sitting lightly against the man’s throat.

“I could kill you right now, take my people and leave. Or, we could sit down and talk about how you can get everything you want for your people.”

“Commander?”

“I have an idea,” Ky subvocalized. His eyes locked with Talogren, his sword preternaturally still against the man’s throat as he added, “Have any of the civilizations the Carthaginians destroyed made it this far?”

“Roman records indicate that they believe some did escape across the channel in a slow trickle over the last seventy years as the Carthaginians have consolidated their hold on the continent.”

“Why should I listen to a demon?”

“Because I’m not a demon,” Ky said, knowing he had the man.

Had Talogren been set on dying in combat, he would have just said so. In asking a question instead, he’d blinked first.

“I am different than you, yes. And I do have powers you do not have,” Ky said, holding up his hand and instructing Sophus to allow the nanobots to do their thing.

As he held his hand up, the wounds from the two sword cuts slowly stitched themselves back together until his hand looked as if nothing happened.

“But I’m not here to destroy you and your people.”

“If you’re not a demon sent to destroy mankind, then why are you here?”

“I’m here to save mankind from a plague sweeping from the south. You’ve heard of them, yes? They’ve all but destroyed the Romans and wiped out or absorbed all of the tribes across the channel. If they have their way, they will destroy you too, or make your people slaves as they attempt to take over the entire world.”

Ky noticed that last word was actually translated out as sea by Sophus.

“You mean the death worshipers? Why should we care about them? They have never bothered us.”

“Only because the Romans are between you and them. I am betting some of the peoples from the tribes across the sea have come here as their people were pushed off their homelands.”

“Maybe, but they are no different than the Romans who pushed our people off our ancestral homes.”

“I’m assuming you haven’t defeated any tribes before, taken their lands for your own?”

“That is the way of the world. The powerful defeat the weak and take what they want.”

“Even in their weakened state, you have been at the mercy of the Romans, relegated to raids to steal bits and pieces, before running back to your mountains. The Carthaginians are set to roll over the Romans like the tide rolls over the beach. If they can do that to them, do you think you have any chance of stopping them? If you’ve heard how they treat those they defeat, do you want to live like that, as their servants and soldiers, fighting to conquer others in their name?”

“You said you had an offer,” Talogren said.

Ky withdrew his sword and took a step back.

“I do. Can we find a better way to discuss my offer than you lying on the ground and me threatening you?”

Talogren scrambled to his feet, “Yes. Come, we will drink and talk.”

“The girl comes with us,” Ky said, retrieving his flight suit and putting it back on. “The rest of them must be unharmed while we talk.”

“Fine,” he said, turning to the man who’d been holding Lucilla. “Llassar, Return the others to the hut and make sure no one harms them until I return.”

“My chief, this thing slaughtered thirty of our men, and you are going to sit with it and listen to its demands.”

“We have killed dozens of men in a rival village and then sat with the survivors to hear why we should not kill the rest. Talk follows battle. Now do as I say, or I will find someone to replace you.”

The man was clearly not happy with the answer, but at least it didn’t seem like he would outright disobey it. Ky had more to worry about than just the Romans’ lives, now. He’d had an idea that, if it worked, could solve several of the problems he’d been struggling with in a single night.

Lucilla rushed to Ky’s side, walking close to him as they followed Talogren and the smattering of men who hadn’t scattered to pick up their fallen comrades or return to their huts.

“What’s happening?” Lucilla asked, confused.

Ky realized she hadn’t understood anything that was being said, so she had no idea what he was doing besides.

“Sophus, please translate for Lucilla from now on,” Ky sub-vocalized, although he’d unmuted her so she could hear it through her earpiece. Out loud, in Latin, he said, “I have an idea, but it’s going to require some faith on your part. You’re not going to like what I’m going to say to him, but maybe we can have something positive come out of all of this mess.”

“What …” she started to ask as they arrived at the tent and Talogren pulled aside the leather that functioned as a doorway.

Inside the hut was warmed with a fire in one corner, causing the walls to steam slightly as the light snow outside began to drip into the mixture of mud and other materials that made them up.

A small, rough wooden table with a stool on either side had mugs of something warm that smelled rancid.

“Fermented goat’s milk,” he said proudly. “Better than that grape swill the Romans prefer.”

Ky took a drink, silently grateful that Sophus had temporarily disconnected his taste buds and displayed an analysis of the liquid, confirming it wasn’t poisonous, although his nanites would be working overtime to keep it from damaging his liver.

“So now tell me why I should believe a demon sent to slaughter my people.”

“When I came here, it was only to retrieve the people your raiding party took. I don’t care about your people and certainly don’t want to kill them. Like I said, I have bigger issues to worry about. Would I kill all of you to protect her? Yes. But I don’t want to if I don’t have to. In fact, I think we can help each other.”

“We don’t need help.”

“Really? Then why are you raiding, stealing food, trade goods, and people?”

“Because that is what the strong do to the weak?”

“The Romans are weak, are they? Why didn’t you raid them when the other legions were here? You said they took your ancestral lands. If you are strong and they are weak, then how did you lose those lands, and why have you not taken them back?”

Talogren just glared in response.

“Sneaking behind the backs of soldiers you can’t face to attack farmers and women doesn’t seem like the actions of the strong over the weak. It sounds like the actions of a coward.”

“So you came to insult me?” he said, half standing, his hand returning to his sword.

“No,” Ky said, putting a hand on Talogren’s shoulder and pushing him back into his seat.

The man tried to resist, but once again Ky had to show that, physically, they were not equals.

“In fact, I don’t believe you’re weak at all. I do believe that you are in a bad position, existing on land that is hard to scrape out a living from, fighting against people whose weapons you can’t counter.”

“If the death worshipers get what they want, then we won’t have to scrape out our living here much longer.”

“If you believe that’s true, and when the death worshipers finish with the Romans, they’ll leave the island and go back to their southern lands, leaving what remains to you and your people, then we don’t have much to discuss. I’ll take my people and leave you and yours here, and you can go back to waiting for your deliverers to take care of your problem.”

The two men stared at each other, for seconds and then minutes, Lucilla and the few Picts who remained in the hut looking back and forth between them. Talogren blinked first.

“What would your offer be? Are you prepared to give us back our ancestral lands?”

“No, but you knew that wasn’t going to be an option. My offer is this, join the Romans. You’ve seen their strength. Not only were they able to drive you off your homes, but they have defeated every attempt to take your lands back. Their iron is a greater quality than yours, they are able to feed all of their people with enough left over to sell when they can, and they have less sickness and disease. In the coming years, those differences will grow more, until they are to you as you would be to cave dwellers. Why fight that when you can join them. Share in the technology and share in the wealth. Let your people move freely between the two lands, finding work as they need and your traders sell into their markets.”

“We won’t become Roman lackeys. You said the death worshipers wanted to just make us their vassals, paying them tribute and abiding by their rules. Why would we want to turn that down just to get the same from the Romans?”

“There would be some limitations you’d have to live with, but as partners, not vassals. The lands you now hold will still be yours, and you will rule them, just as the Romans rule their lands. There will probably be laws that both groups would have to abide by, but you would get an equal say in their making. You would have your province and they theirs, but together you would form a single empire.”

“So we get the same voice as the Romans? I found it doubtful they’d ever offer such terms. Why would they even agree to something like that if, like you say, their advantages over us will soon be even greater?”

“You have things to offer that the Romans need. Your lands have mines that the Romans will need to build an army capable of defeating the death worshipers. Mines you would own and run, selling metal into Roman forges. More than anything, they need people. They’ve ended slavery, and will need workers for their fields and mines, craftsmen for their forges and mills, and more than anything, soldiers for their armies.”

“You’re not one of them. Why should we agree to this, only to have the Romans change the agreement when we turn our backs?”

“You have the Emperor’s daughter right here. She can tell you that I have been named Consul. I speak with the Emperor’s voice. Yes, this is my idea, and I will sell it to the Romans. I believe you will not survive as a people if the death worshipers win, but I also believe the Romans will not be able to stop them without your help. You need each other, and I will make sure they agree. Will they like everything I’m going to propose? No. But neither will you. I once heard someone smarter than me say the only deal that is truly fair is the one where everyone feels they are getting the worse side of the bargain. Right now, you stand on the brink of disaster. Either the death worshipers win and turn you into another slave people like the tribes across the sea, or the Romans win and with their new weapons remove you as a threat forever. Neither option is good for you. This is the way out. You can not only survive, but turn your people into something greater. No longer just goat herders and raiders living in mud huts, but members of an empire, with a real voice in what that empire does. You will not hear a better offer than this.”

Talogren was silent for a few moments, but no longer staring at Ky as part of a contest of wills. Ky watched his eyes move back and forth as an internal battle waged. It was a gamble, to be sure. He could feel Lucilla’s eyes boring into him, but thankfully she’d taken his request seriously and stayed silent despite hearing Ky offer things no Roman would ever think of.

“Take your people and go,” he said, standing.

Ky closed his eyes for a second, silently cursing. For a moment he thought he’d found a solution to the biggest problem that had been plaguing him. No matter what technology or schemes Ky worked out, until they solved the manpower problem, the Romans would never have a shot at long-term survival. He was too committed to abandon them now, especially with these new feelings for Lucilla, but he’d hoped he would have been able to survive in this new world a little longer.

Ky rose and started to leave when Talogren said, “I will discuss it with my people. We are not like the Romans, who bicker and argue over every decision, but something of this magnitude must be discussed.”

“I understand. I will return to the Roman camps by the wall. Send word there. I will guarantee your man will not be harmed, but I can’t stay for long. Three days from now I will have to return south and continue preparations to face the death worshipers.”Talogren nodded and turned to his men as Ky and Lucilla left to collect the Romans remaining in captivity and begin the walk back to the wall. While he was hopeful this plan would work, this was only half of the battle. He still had to convince the Romans, and he knew the first one he’d have to win over was Lucilla.

Chapter 33

“What the hell are you thinking?” Lucilla asked as soon as they began their walk back to the Roman lines.

It had taken them some time to get all of the Romans ready to travel and Ky knew it was going to be a long and very cold night for most of them. It had taken him hours to run the distance between the Roman wall and the Pict camp, but it would take the entire night for the wounded and exhausted Romans to stagger their way back. Ky had considered making camp for the night, but the truce with the Picts was tenuous and Ky knew some of Talogren’s people wouldn’t be on board with this idea. Since one of them might get the bright idea that they could end the truce and put things back the way they were by themselves, Ky thought it best to get the Romans as far away as possible, just to remove the temptation.

“I want to get your people back to safety as soon as possible,” Ky said, purposefully mistaking her meaning. “I know they’re tired, but they can take one night of hardship.”

“That isn’t what I mean, and you know it. How could you offer something like that to these barbarians?”

“Because you need them. You know I was right when I said the Romans needed the manpower. It’s one of the major reasons we decided to end slavery in Roman borders, and even that isn’t enough. The Carthaginians will roll over you like a wave and no matter how brave you are and how many tricks I can pull out, we won’t be able to stop it by ourselves. Besides, they aren’t barbarians. They’re just people trying to do what they can to survive. Look at it from their perspective. They were happily living their lives on this island until the Romans showed up and pushed them out of their homelands. You are to them what the Carthaginians are to you.”

“That’s different!”

“How? You killed many of them and drove them off? How’s that different? You were all ready to turn all of the surviving Carthaginians into slaves, arguing that they were evil and it was a fate they deserved. I’m not saying you are the same as the Carthaginians, but suggesting that the Picts are in the wrong and the Romans are noble and pure is hypocritical. I’m not saying you should just hand back the land you’ve taken and walk into the sea, but I am suggesting it’s time to stop viewing them as animals and nuisances, and start seeing them as people. Just like you.”

Lucilla fell quiet. Ky didn’t blame her. Besides the ordeal she’d suffered, she also had a lifetime of living as a Roman to get over. It was easy to see your nation as the center of the world and everything else as somehow other and lesser. The Romans, who’d once had an empire that spanned what they knew of as the entire world, were doubly cursed. The bigger and more influential a people became, the harder it got to see outside of their own sphere of influence.

Ky was practical. He hadn’t been planning on righting the wrongs of the past or trying to make everything fair to all of the people he came across. His entire goal, once he picked the Romans as the people he’d stay with, now that he was stuck in this time, was to make sure they kept existing as a refuge and bringing their technological level up to the point where he could at least be somewhat secure.

Once he came to the idea of bringing in other peoples into an alliance with the Romans, however, he had to stop thinking of himself as one of the Romans and view the situation from the outside. He’d never been trained as a diplomat, but he’d spent a lot of time recently looking at politics and nation-building, trying to understand enough to chart a sustainable course for the Romans. One of the things he’d learned in this study was the only way to make lasting negotiations with others was to see enough of their side to actually understand them. History was replete with agreements and deals handed down from a powerful nation to a weaker one, and they rarely lasted. This would only work if he saw both sides and understood what both wanted and what they both needed, and could find a middle ground that kept either from walking away.

“Guilt is fine for me, but do you really think you’re going to convince my father or my brother or people like Silo to go along with this plan?”

“Your father? Yes. He knows what kind of danger his people are in and he understands what Rome needs to be able to survive those dangers. He won’t like it, but he’ll see the necessity of the alliance. Over time, I hope he’ll see it as more than that. I hadn’t planned on this, but the more I think about it, the more I can see it as a viable way for Rome to not only survive, but achieve some of the glory your people liked to reminisce on so much. It won’t be the same, but it will be more durable and could last for generations if we do it right. Your brother and Silo are another matter. Your brother can’t see beyond his petty desire for power and Silo can’t see beyond the past, only wanting things to remain as they were. This has made both of them blind to the real dangers Rome faces, meaning neither would do anything to avoid them.”

Ky knew her relationship with her brother wasn’t great, but he imagined even with that it’d be difficult to see all of his actual flaws. She chose the option she had every time her brother came up, which was to ignore the truth and focus on other parts of the conversation.

She spent the next several hours peppering him with questions as they walked, occasionally having to stop to give the Romans a short rest before they continued. He didn’t have many answers for her, since he hadn’t worked out everything himself. He knew he had to have a full plan by the time they got to Rome, but that all depended on Talogren saying yes. Ky thought he might, but the people of this time tended to be stubborn, regardless of personal danger.

After a while Lucilla went silent, focusing on putting one foot in front of the next. She was as exhausted as any of her people from her ordeal over the last few days and only her anger over hearing Ky offer an alliance with the people who’d put her through that ordeal had kept her going since they left the village. After she burned off that initial anger, she fell into the same stumbling stupor that the rest were in.

This gave Ky time to deal with the other thing that had bothered him since they left.

“How did you know the personal combat thing would work?” Ky asked Sophus silently.

“I was able to isolate parts of their language and find corollaries with known ancient Welsh language files. The connection was not initially made, because there seems to be a blending between that language tree and what we know of the early Pict language tree that caused unexpected variations. In addition, the available libraries on both are extremely limited, since neither left much in the archaeological record. What is known was derived primarily by working backward from more complete ancestor languages. The connection wasn’t fully made until their leader mentioned the god Agrona, which was an ancient Welsh deity that had no crossover or corollary with known Pict deities. Using Roman histories, I was able to able to reconstruct the sequence of migrations that lead to the current makeup of the people now known as the Picts.”

“So they’re not the same as the people who would have lived here in our timeline?”

“Correct. In our original timeline, the Romans did not move into the British Isles until much later, and then at a gradual pace. After the fall of Rome, the areas they did control partially reverted back to their pre-colonization makeup, although still carrying through some effects of the Roman occupations. In this timeline, the Roman migration onto the British Isles was much faster and, because the migration was for permanent settlement, had the effect of displacing people that would otherwise not have been displaced. It appears the largest group that was forced north into the Scottish Highlands were the Welsh, who took large portions of their culture and beliefs with them. From this information, I formed the supposition that they might react to similar cultural responses, such as the right to determine disagreements through personal combat.”

“Is there any way this helps us?”

“Perhaps. Without further study, it’s hard to say what the full effect of the merger between the Picts and the Welsh into a new conglomerate society are and which societal norms from the two cultures were adopted and which abandoned.”

“Yeah, I thought you were going to say that.”

By the time they made it back to the Roman lines, half of the survivors of Lucilla’s group were carrying the half that couldn’t walk. Besides injuries from the raid itself and extended abuse over the days that followed, it was well into winter and none of the people had been dressed to endure the march south.

Ky gave directions to the Roman healers on how to treat some of the injuries, especially how to keep the frostbitten fingers and toes from turning gangrenous. Some would still need amputations, but if they followed their instructions, most would make a full recovery. Ky had hated forcing them to move quickly, but had they stopped, many of the injured would never have moved from their temporary camps. It sounded harsh, but Ky thought a few fingers and toes was a fair exchange for their lives.

His lictores had been all over him when he returned, as were the commanders of the fourth legion, all of whom wanted to know what happened. Ky didn’t have time to give them a blow-by-blow of the events, but did warn them that a Pict party might be approaching the Roman lines in the next few days, and that they must be allowed to pass safely. Since he had all of his lictores with him, Ky put them to work overseeing the Roman patrols making sure a twitchy centurion didn’t order the slaughter of messengers that might have brought an end to the Pict threat. In return, he had to agree to keep within his tent and to not venture out anymore, so they could leave a minimal number of men to protect him and use the rest as a form of informal officers corps.

For once, Ky didn’t argue, since he had work to do. He’d made his proposal off the cuff and, while he had the beginnings of an idea of how it would work, he hadn’t actually come up with a plan. If the Picts did agree, they’d want to know what his offer was in full and then he’d have to take it to the Romans and get the Emperor to agree. That meant he needed to figure out a working solution, and he knew it had to be something more than just becoming a Roman protectorate or a treaty.

The historical documents that Ky had reviewed showed that it wasn’t far from the end of the Romans in his time. As their ability to field Italians and other Romans as soldiers to protect the borders of the Empire from a series of tribal migrations from the east, the Romans had turned to some of those tribes that had been forced into their territory. Long-standing prejudices kept the Romans from absorbing these people into the Empire, and instead, a series of treaties had been drawn up to allow these tribes seeking sanctuary to move over the Danube and even fight in their legions, but still hold them as non-citizens. Eventually, the inevitable happened and the tribes realized they didn’t have to keep listening to the Romans. They were over the major physical barrier and large parts of the Roman armies were made up of their own people, or people related to them.

It hadn’t been an instantaneous reversal, but over time they began moving further south, taking over parts of Roman territory and making it theirs. Ky and Sophus agreed that the only way to avoid a repeat of this, since Rome was facing similar problems now, was to make these people tied to the fate of Rome itself. They couldn’t join as outsiders.

Except for the occasional interruption from his lictores delivering messages from the 3rd legion commanders or updates on the survivors, Ky worked through the entire day in solitude. Even as he worked, going over different governmental systems and alliance structures that Sophus could pull from his data downloads, Ky couldn’t help but notice Lucilla’s absence. Following their brief conversation after they left the Pict village, she’d fallen silent and had disappeared to recuperate as soon as they arrived back at the Roman camps. For everything he’d been willing to sacrifice to bring her back safely, Ky knew there was a chance it might come down to a decision between her or making the changes that Rome needed to survive. It was the slavery argument all over again, except the people he was preparing to anger were the same ones that had supported him last time.

It was worse for Lucilla, since she’d suffered more personally than the people still in Devnum, for whom the Pict threat was still abstract. Ky had hoped that their personal connection would be enough for her to look past those experiences, but he knew it might not be. What’s worse, he knew that if he had to choose between saving Rome and keeping her affections, he’d have to choose to save Rome, if only because if Rome fell, she would most likely die. And that he couldn’t live with.

He tried to push the thoughts aside, but he was failing. Enough so that Sophus had to remind him several times of the importance of having a plan, even though Sophus didn’t seem as confident that the Picts would come at all.

Ky had just started to refocus for the thirtieth time when a cough at the entry flap to his tent caught his attention.

“Hello,” Lucilla said.

She looked good. Someone must have found her hot water, because the dirt and grime from her ordeal were gone. Ky sat down the stylus he’d been using, marking lightly on the thin scroll so that he’d have something for the Emperor to look at.

“Hello,” he said, awkwardly stopping somewhere between standing and sitting.

“Can I come in?” She asked, pointing at a stool next to the small camp table Ky had been writing at.

“Yes, yes. Sorry. How are you feeling?”

“Much better than my retainers. Those anim… sorry. They went through a lot and I know I’m lucky they didn’t do anything but threaten and yell at me.”

“That’s still a lot to deal with, especially since you must have thought much worse would have happened soon. I know you’re upset with me and it seems like I’m siding with them or rewarding them for what they did to you. I hope you know I’d never do that, but I also have to think about the rest of you and how to make sure Rome survives.”

“I know, and you don’t have to apologize. I actually came to apologize to you.”

“Why, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I don’t know about that. Had I listened to you about not going to see the oracle, I wouldn’t have ended up there at all. And you came and saved me. Again. I keep having to thank you for saving my life.”

Since the ‘thank you,’ ‘you don’t have to,’ looked like it wasn’t ending any time soon, Ky simply said, “You’re welcome.”

She stepped closer, into Ky’s personal space and said, “See that wasn’t hard.”

Ky had just begun to lean down when Carus called from outside his tent, “Consul, riders are nearing the outpost.”

Ky sighed and closed his eyes, laying his forehead against hers for a moment.

“Come,” he said, standing up straight and taking a step back to put some room between himself and Lucilla.

When Carus entered the tent, Ky asked, “Are they the Picts?”

“Yes. The scouts made contact a few minutes ago and Lovinus was with them. He sent a messenger back at a gallop and is riding in with the Picts to make sure there aren’t issues.”

“How many of them?”

“Only five, one of them is Talogren.”

“Really?” Ky said excitedly. “He wouldn’t ride out here with a handful of men unless it was to negotiate.”

“That was my thought.”

“Have Vibius arrange a place for us to meet and make sure it’s well guarded. While this is going on, I do not want any interruptions. When he arrives, have him shown there and offer him refreshments. Make sure he isn’t treated like a prisoner. He can bring an advisor in, but the rest of his men can remain outside. We don’t need too many voices causing chaos. Tell him I will only bring one other with me, to ensure it remains equal.”

“I’ll see to it, Consul.”

“This is good,” Ky said to no one in particular before turning back to Lucilla. “I would like you with me. These aren’t demands like I made before. It will be a negotiation. I believe the plan I have will work and I’ve tried to consider what your people’s response will be, but it will be harder to present to the Senate if there isn’t a Roman voice in the negotiation.”

“They wouldn’t listen to me.”

“When the people hear you were negotiating for all of Rome, they’ll listen. Some of the senators may have their prejudices, but the people love you. While I would want you there, if you don’t think you want to or could handle it, then it’s fine if you don’t go. You’ve heard what I said to him, so I can guess you’ll have some idea of what types of things I am willing to offer them, but this will probably be difficult for you to accept even still. All I can tell you is that I believe it’s important.”

“If you believe it is, then I’ll go.”

“Good,” Ky said, giving her a warm smile. “Good.”

When they entered the tent Talogren had been sent to, the Pict partially rose, only to freeze when he saw Lucilla enter behind Ky.

“You brought the woman again?”

“As I said at your camp, she is the Emperor’s daughter and she can speak with his voice. She is also one of the few people here that can understand your language, although it is more difficult for her to speak it.”

Ky didn’t mention that he’d spent the few minutes before coming to the meeting coaching her on how to listen to the translation and keep up despite the slight delay that happened between when the man spoke and when she would hear the translation in her ear. He’d been doing it for so long now, since none of the languages here was his native tongue, that Ky hardly noticed he was doing it at all anymore, but he imagined it would be a challenge for someone new to the experience.

“Fine, fine. I just wish we would have brought some of our own drinks. This goat piss you Romans drink tastes little better than piss.”

“I can have a goat brought in for you to suckle at if you prefer,” Ky said with a straight face.

Talogren stared at him hard before letting out a bark of laughter. Sophus had suggested that, from his observations at their village and the records he had, that the Picts would often trade insults before bargaining, as a way of putting all of their animosity on the table, so everyone knew where they stood.

“Finally, a Roman without the stick up his ass.”

“I told you, I’m not Roman, just as I’m not a Pict.”

“You might be the right person to decide this after all. I’ve talked to my people. Not all of them think this is the smart thing. They think we’ll lose some of ourselves if we try to become Roman.”

“I am not asking you to become Roman. Within your borders, you can live your lives as you see fit, as long as you abide by the agreements you make, follow the laws that the Imperial Senate, which you will be a part of, lays down, and understand that you are part of the Empire, just as much as the Romans are. Your fate is sealed with theirs.”

“I said not all of my people. I didn’t mean most of them. The majority of us see the benefit in this. We’ve watched the death worshipers bring every tribe that has come into their reach to heel and made them into servants. We do not particularly like the Romans, but we don’t think we will get a better deal from the death worshipers, so we agree.”

“What about the rest of the league?”

“That is another matter. Some of them will agree. Some of them will not.”

“That will create problems for you, won’t it? They won’t just sit by and let you take part of your lands and merge it with the Romans, will they?”

“No. But we will have new, powerful allies to help us show them the error of their ways.”

“I see,” Ky said, internally grimacing.

He’d hoped that Talogren could deliver all of the Picts, which meant all of the lands that would have been Scotland, to them on his word. Only getting some of the Picts and having to use men and supplies needed for the Carthaginians to instead help pacify the remaining northern lands was not what he wanted.

“I guess we’ll deal with that when we get to it. How many tribes can you speak for, that you’re sure about?”

“Twenty-one of various sizes, all along the border and up along the eastern shore. That’s most of the tribes who’ve had contact with either your friends or the death worshipers.”

That made sense. It was easy to dismiss threats when you didn’t see them regularly. The tribes that had seen, or at least heard from refugees, what the Carthaginians were up to understood what the real danger was to them. They might have just been raiding and hoping things changed on their own, but all they really needed to start working with the Romans against the bigger problem was a legitimate way out of what seemed like a no-win situation.

“We’ll take what we can get for now and work to convince the tribes who haven’t signed on that this is in their best interest. If they don’t and we can’t see a way to keep them from being a problem, you’ll be responsible for ensuring the northern lands are under control. If you’re allied to the Romans, we can’t have any more raids. Especially if Romans are traveling north to trade and buy from your people.”

“I get it. We become the new invaders, telling others to stop, submit or die,” Talogren said unhappily.

“I’m not asking you to conquer them. They’re your brothers after all, or at least cousins. I’m serious when I say we’ll leave you in command of lands. You will be a territory every bit as equal and self-governing as the Romans and their territory.”

“So how will this work?”

“I will go back to Devnum and convince the Emperor to sign onto the agreement. Once that’s done, I’ll come back with more specifics and talk about how you want to set up your government. You’ll send or elect, however you choose to do it, senators to represent you in the imperial senate and determine which laws both you and the Romans will be bound to follow. We’ll work out trade and technology transfers as you see fit.”

“You keep telling me about all the wonderful things the Romans will do for us, but you have yet to say what we have to give in return.”

“First, the raiding would stop. While you will be allowed free travel into Roman lands, and Romans into yours, until everyone begins to trust each other, soldiers will remain on the border, to ensure the peace. Secondly, and more importantly, you will supply men into the Roman legions. For now, they will be kept as an independent unit, because we don’t have time to train them to all fight together, but ultimately, I would want them mixed in with the Romans, fighting together. And we need those men now.”

“You want us to send men south as soon as the agreement is signed?”

“No, I want to take men back south with me when I go and put them into training as soon as the Emperor signs the agreement.”

“What if he doesn’t sign? What happens to our people, trapped in the heart of Roman territory?”

“The Emperor will sign, he doesn’t have any other options. However, I will guarantee the safety of your people.”

“You may have powers, but you’re still one man. I won’t risk my people by sending them south before we have an agreement.”

“You will, or there’s no deal. We need them now. We are only a few short months from the death worshiper’s invasion. We don’t have time to wait for the agreement to be signed before they march south.”

“My father will keep Ky’s promise,” Lucilla said. “Besides, your men will be armed. Are they scared they won’t be able to defend themselves if we don’t come to an agreement? I thought all Picts were mighty warriors worth ten Roman dogs.”

Although they’d been speaking the mixture Pict/Welsh language that had become the norm for this world’s Picts, Talogren understood Latin. For a moment Ky worried that she might have been letting her anger get the best of her, and overstepped, but Talogren broke into a smile again.

“By the gods, she has balls. I should have insisted on keeping her as one of my wives.”

“I would have cut yours off if you had,” Lucilla said, dead serious.

“How many men do you need?”

“As many as you can get together within two days. I know you won’t be able to get all of them, and this is only temporary until this battle has ended. After that, those that do not want to fight can return home. Of course, those that want to remain soldiers can do so, although they will be integrated into the Roman units if they decide to stay.”

“The southern tribes, that is, the ones closest to the border, are our largest tribes. We can spare at most, five thousand men, although I won’t be sure until we talk to them and ask for those who want to go.”

“They will not be allowed to raid or kill Roman citizens or steal from the Romans. If they do, they will face justice. They will be paid, they will be fed, and they will get equal spoils of victory when the death worshipers fall, but that is it.”

“I will send Llassar with you. He will make sure of it. And while I am thinking of him … Llassar!”

The last word was a shout directed at the door of the tent. The large Pict that Ky had met at the Pict village, who had also held a knife to Lucilla’s throat, came through the flap. Ky saw Lucilla’s eyes narrow, probably remembering how roughly he’d gripped her by the throat as Ky and Talogren fought. Ky thought she might protest when a new surprise was pushed in behind Llassar, hands tied in front of them.

“These two were sent by the death worshipers to us some time ago. They made suggestions of sending more men into Roman lands to raid and pillage and made all kinds of offers of wealth and glory if we would attack the Romans when the southern death worshipers attacked.”

This was a surprise, but it did make a lot of sense. He’d wondered why the Picts had suddenly become so much more aggressive. Ever since Ky arrived, they had begun raiding at an increased rate, which was why the Romans had sent three legions north just before the attack on Devnum. It had been a good plan on the Carthaginian’s side. Even though they had overwhelming numbers, removing more than half of the Roman forces had made it all but certain Devnum fell before the first snow.

Or it would have had Ky not shown up.

“Lately, after your defeat of their army, they have become more insistent about larger raids. When some of my people resisted, their tales of glory and riches became threats. We were told that, if we did not do what they said, after the death worshipers destroyed the Romans, they would continue on into our lands, killing our men and making our women service their soldiers. They showed us what being their ally would really be like. Now that I have decided to ally with Rome instead, I thought I could offer them as gifts, for the signing of our agreement.”

This also explained a lot. Ky had wondered why Talogren had given in so easily. While he’d counted himself lucky and taken the victory, there hadn’t been a good reason for him to just accept Ky’s word that the Carthaginians would subjugate the Picts as soon as they were done with the Romans. Sure, they might have heard of what happened on the Continent, but again, hearing something second-hand and experiencing it are very different things.

Carthaginian agents in their midst saying they’d do the same thing, however, would have made it a lot easier to believe Ky, and see the value of a way out. Because once the threats started, Talogren must have known that they’d never stop.

“That is a good gift, and I’m sure it would go a long way to convincing the Emperor that you’re serious about this alliance, and show him the value of working with your people instead of fighting them.”

“If I only have two days to gather men for your journey south, I need to start now. I will have to ride to many of their villages myself, and convince them why this has to happen,” Talogren said, standing up and turning for the door.

Ky appreciated that they didn’t stand on ceremony the way the Romans always did. He liked the Romans, but their love of pomp was inefficient and wasted huge amounts of time.

Talogren was just reaching for the flap covering the door when he stopped and turned.

“We are giving you this one chance, because I believe this could be the best way for my people to survive. Do not take my hopefulness as weakness, however. If the agreement you procure from the Emperor changes the terms we’ve agreed to or if the Romans decide to go back on their word after this alliance is formed, we will fight all of you and hand our fates to the gods.”

“I understand,” Ky said, watching him leave before turning to Lucilla. “Thank you for supporting me.”

“I’m still not convinced, but you made some good points. You know, despite what I said, I’m a lot easier to persuade than my father, and the others will be worse.”

“Let’s worry about one thing at a time. First, we have to get all these Picts to Devnum without burning down the countryside.”

Chapter 34

Although he believed Talogren’s word that he would get warriors willing to go south and help defend against the Carthaginian invasion, Ky wasn’t sure he’d actually been successful until the first of those men started to arrive at the border. By the end of the morning of the third day, when they needed to march, he had even managed to beat his own estimate with the final total coming to just over five-thousand one-hundred. Unfortunately, it wasn’t just the fighting men. Many of them had brought their wives and children along, as well as quite a number of camp followers looking to sell wares, or themselves, to the horde of men.

Ky knew that this was a phenomenon with all armies of the time, including the Romans, but since they were pulling people out of their villages and having them move into an area that would have been hostile to them that they could not scavenge off, Ky had thought they might not be an issue this time. Vibius had recommended that the women and children, at least, get turned away and sent back to their villages, but one ride among them was enough for Ky to decide to let them come. The men were all healthy, but many of the women and children were malnourished and their clothing tattered to the point of being rags. If they were forced to go back without their breadwinners, many of these people wouldn’t live through the winter.

Ky knew this would make his job harder when he arrived at Devnum, but he couldn’t say no. In the end, almost ten thousand people would be headed south. Ky took a century from Vibius to work as police and assist in providing for the horde. Every day he sent them out to buy food and supplies to bring back, although much of that with tokens that the farmers could redeem instead of hard currency.

Ky reassured them that someone would return with money to pay these people, so they didn’t have to travel to the capitol to get reimbursed, but they had heard that before. This far from the Capitol, Ky’s reputation didn’t mean as much, and the people were warier. Ky also sent two of his men ahead to have food and supplies collected in Devnum and a small supply train driven up to meet them halfway, to help alleviate the strain on the countryside.

Even on the cut ration, the Picts were ecstatic. Many of the women and children were eating better than they had in their lives, which in turn made the men happy and more compliant.

The trip wasn’t without incident, however. Despite Talogren’s warnings and then Llassar’s repetition of those warnings that violation of Roman law would come with Roman penalties, including death for serious crimes. Despite those warnings and the patrolling Roman soldiers, a handful of warriors had to be punished before they reached Devnum, including two for rape and one for murdering a farmer when he tried to protect his daughter.

Ky stopped the march for two hours while he held court with both Romans and Picts passing judgment. The three men were found guilty and lined up in front of the watching Picts. Ky made sure everyone involved was one of their people, from the men guarding the prisoners to the executioner standing behind them.

“I promised Talogren and your chieftains that I would treat you fairly and that you would be equals with the Romans, not their subjects or slaves,” Ky said to the assembled mass, standing in front of the kneeling prisoners.

While Ky could make his voice project far, with this many people less than a third would actually hear what he was saying. The rest would have to hear it repeated by their countrymen who were standing close enough to hear.

“I meant that in every way. You will have the same opportunities as any Roman. The same privileges as any Roman. And … you will have the same obligations as any Roman. By your laws and by the Romans’, what these men have done is wrong and they must pay the price for their actions. What happens now, I don’t do out of hate for your people … or malice … or anger. I do it because it must be done.”

With that Ky stepped back and pulled his sword. Ky dispatched each man as quickly as he could, his sword decapitating them one by one. When it was done he ordered that they not be defiled or hung up as an example and instead had their bodies disposed of in the traditional Pict manner, by burning on a pyre. Most of the Picts returned to the camp they had set up the night before to prepare for that day’s march, but some stayed to watch the bodies burn.

Llassar, who Ky found to be reasonable if gruff, agreed to keep an eye on the rest and tell him if the execution caused any unrest. He seemed unphased by it and from what Ky had been able to pick up, the Picts generally had much harsher ways of dealing with criminals.

♦♦♦

Devnum

Word spread among the Roman farmers and stead holders as they marched about the crimes and how quickly the perpetrators had been executed. While many had fled at the throng of barbarians, when the expected pillaging and death did not appear, most returned. Some even joined the Pict camp followers to try and profit from men and families that needed supplies and entertainment. While they didn’t have Roman money, enough barter was found that, by the time they reached Devnum, more than a hundred Romans were following the Picts.

Ky was met a few miles from town by a reception party made up of both allies and detractors. While he was thankful to see Aelius and Velius, he could have done without the likes of Silo and Pius, both of whom looked at the Picts with a mixture of hatred and disgust.

“I’m glad to see you,” Ky said to Velius when the men rode up to him.

“I wish I could say the same,” Velius said. “Your messengers told us what you were bringing, but I didn’t truly believe it until this moment. You have brought the entire north with you.”

“Hardly the entire north. I’d planned on bringing just warriors that their Chief could spare, but they wouldn’t come without their families. This is Llassar. He was sent to lead them and is their commander, more or less. Have them set up a camp between the seventh and ninth legions and get supplies for them.”

“Consul, I’ll do whatever you order,” Aelius said. “But that is a lot of people and a lot of mouths to feed. This is almost as many as our two legions combined and it’s winter. How will we find the supplies for them?”

“I’m headed to talk to the Emperor now. We can pull from the imperial stores for now, and we’ll figure something out after that.”

“We do not want to live off of others,” Llassar said. “The warriors are here to train and fight, but our people can work.”

“Put out the word,” Ky said to Velius. “Since so many slaves have left for the legions, I’m sure there are people looking for workers. Send someone to talk to Hortensius and have him start working on the problem.”

“You know there will be a backlash to this,” Velius said, eyeing Silo and his entourage.

“I’ll deal with that when I have to. We need men, and we have a full legion worth of additional warriors ready to fight. Now go, get the camps ready. Llassar, Velius will show your people to a place where they can set up camp and get them supplies.”

Llassar, his one sentence for the day said, just nodded and rode to follow Velius.

“Keep an eye on them,” Ky said to Carus, indicating Silo and his party. “I want to know what they do when they leave here.”

Carus nodded and rode to talk to his men. Ky knew he’d been pushing them all too hard over the last several days, but he had to get the Picts settled and the status clear before everything fell apart. Had he thought this through more, he might have sent word ahead to take care of a lot of these details before he arrived, to make the process go more smoothly, but this wasn’t a thought-out plan. He thought he’d made the right call, especially when he considered he added almost twenty percent to his effective fighting force, since he knew he couldn’t count on either the first or second legions to support his strategy. They’d needed men, and this plan so far had given them just that.

Ky rode into the city, passing crowds that had started to gather to gawk at the foreigners as they marched around the city and towards their temporary home. Considering all of the commotion, Ky wasn’t surprised to see the Emperor on the steps of the palace, waiting for them.

Lucilla saw him too, hopping off her horse and running up the steps to embrace her father. Ky followed slowly behind them, giving the father and daughter time. Although he hadn’t spoken to the Emperor before his rushed departure, he had sent word back about the abduction and again after they’d brought Lucilla back safely.

“When I named you Consul, I never imagined you would keep things so interesting,” the Emperor said, releasing his daughter and putting a hand on Ky’s shoulder. “Thank you for bringing my daughter home safely, although I could have done without the rest.”

“When you named me, I told you I would do everything I could to find a way to protect Rome and make it prosper. This is part of that.”

“I have heard some of the deal you offered the Pict leader. I’m not sure I agree that this will do either.”

Ky wasn’t surprised that the Emperor already knew some of the terms he’d given to the Picts. Ramirus would have certainly had people among the third legion and kept a close eye on the situation.

“All I ask is that you hear me out,” Ky replied.

“Fine. Let’s go inside and talk.”

Lucilla left them to ensure the people who’d gone to the oracle with her got the treatment they needed while Ky followed the Emperor into the Palace.

Already assembled were Ramirus and the Senators Taenaris and Lurio. Ky had expected to see Ramirus, who kept his hand in about everything, but the senators were a surprise.

“From what we’ve heard, I thought some of the senators should be present to hear what you’re planning since, if I understand it correctly, you’re suggesting a major change to the very building blocks of the Empire.”

“I wouldn’t say I’m suggesting changes to the building blocks of the Empire. What I’m going to propose is drastic, but I think it’s needed if you hope to survive.”

“I think there might be a limit to the number of times you can use that as a reason,” Lurio said, much more hostile than he normally was.

“Senator, I say this will all due respect. But do you think Rome is safe? Even if we defeat the army that will be coming for us in the spring, do you believe that Rome can then live out its days in peace and prosperity? Even if we kill every single man the Carthaginians send at us, there will be more coming. And even if we kick them off this island, they won’t be finished with Rome. In fact, the more you survive against their efforts to stop you, the more they will send against us. They will have to! Because they rule over a vast empire they could not control if it rose up against them in mass. Rome defying their attempts to conquer it is an existential threat to the control they have to maintain. They will never stop trying to destroy you. The only way to survive is for Rome to find a way to not only protect itself but to defeat the Carthaginians themselves. You have to see that.”

“I think some of that might be exaggerated,” Lurio said, somewhat less hostile. “But yes, I see your point. The rest of the Senate will need more than that if you are going to keep introducing these new ideas.”

“Maybe we should hear his actual proposal before we start telling the Consul it won’t work,” the Emperor interjected.

“Thank you, Emperor. I want to start by saying that, although this came about when the opportunity presented itself, it wasn’t something I came up with then and there. It’s been obvious for some time that for Rome to actually defeat Carthage and end it as a threat, you’re going to need allies. I know there are many of you whose dream is to one day bring Rome back to what it was, a nation of Roman citizens ruling over a vast expanse of subjugated territories, that must swear allegiance to Rome and live under its rule. I can tell you that, even if Carthage is wiped off the face of the planet, that will not be possible.”

Several of the men present, including both Senators, began talking over each other, trying to argue the point. While Ky let them go one for a few minutes to burn off the shock of hearing they would never get their hearts’ desire, he couldn’t help but notice that both the Emperor and Ramirus were silent. Both men had a solid understanding of how the world actually works and were smart enough to do the math and figure out the position that Rome was in. The ones that were upset were too focused on Rome itself to see the reality of the world beyond it.

“I know those are hard words to hear, but they’re true. Rome doesn’t have the population to support that kind of global contest and any allies Rome might get would turn against you if you started trying to subjugate the rest of the world, because they would rightly realize that eventually, they would themselves become a target. Even if you did manage to bring the Empire back to the glory of the past, it wouldn’t last. It was already getting too large to manage as it was when Carthage pushed you off the continent. Had Germanic tribes not been pressing down on Rome, weakening it, you might have been able to fight off Carthage, but that pressure will continue. There will be other waves of migration out of the lands north of Persia that will push Germanic tribes south, because that is how migration patterns have always been. You might be able to fight off one or two, but eventually one will come at the wrong time, and the Empire would fall again.”

“It sounds like you have an alternative solution,” the Emperor said.

“I do. Rome will stay Rome. When we push the Carthaginians off of Britannia, Rome will stretch from the border of the Picts to the southern tip of the Island. You will continue to rule the lands as you see fit, under your own laws, as you’ve always done. The only thing that will change is a new, higher form of government. It would have the Emperor as its head, but it would be made up of, for now, Rome and the Picts, or at least those we can unite into a single government. This higher level would have a Senate, just like the Roman Senate, but it would be made up of equal representation from all members. While right now, that would be the Picts and the Romans, hopefully, we will bring in more allies that will become additional members. Each member would have complete autonomy in their own lands, as long as none of their laws violated a law passed by the greater Empire’s senate. Any conflict between the members would be arbitrated by the greater Empire’s senate.”

“Why would we agree to let barbarians get a say over what happens to Rome. We might be equal at first, but if you bring in a third member, they can get together and force Rome to do their bidding.”

“The same would be true for them if Rome makes an agreement with another member against the third. Remember though, that a Roman Emperor would still be the head of this greater Empire, or whatever we end up calling it. He would have the same veto power that he has now. Rome would maintain an advantage, although that might have to have some kind of limit on it, depending on the final negotiations.”

“Why would our allies agree to something like that, even if there were limits,” Ramirus asked.

“Rome already has significant technological advantage over most of the people who would be willing to join you in an alliance. Over the next few years, I hope that advantage will grow even larger. Rome will be providing that technological lead to them in exchange. And since I know what the next question would be, why should Rome give away its advantage, when they could always leave the alliance and take that technology with them, there is always risk in everything. These people will be providing most of the manpower that Rome will need to defeat the Carthaginians and then maintain this greater Empire into the future.”

“What if Romans want to travel north and set up an industry extracting the resources from their territory.”

“They would have to do so under Pict law, since they would be living in Pict lands. The same is true of Picts who come south looking for work. There would be free travel between the lands, but when you cross into the allies’ lands, you would have to abide by their laws and they by your laws. Trade can flow easily between the two without restriction and it’s up to the greater Empire’s senate to set rules for trade with other civilizations.”

“So Rome is still Rome, but Picts or any other allies could decide to move into Roman territory and live?” Taenaris asked.

“Yes, but again, under Roman law. They couldn’t just decide to take a piece of land and claim it as their own, unless they follow Roman rules in doing so. Most, I imagine, will be moving to the cities, finding lodging, and working in the mills and foundries, which are places that need the manpower desperately. I understand this is hard to grasp, because it is so different than what you’ve ever experienced before, but it will work. I think you will be surprised if you looked ahead several generations and found that people saw themselves not as Romans or Picts, but as members of a larger Empire.”

The questions continued into the night, but the main objection always came down to one thing. The Romans were concerned about allowing people they saw as inferior to become some kind of equal and were afraid that eventually, Rome would stop being Rome.

Ky knew it was a lot to swallow, since the Romans liked to believe they were something that hadn’t existed in a hundred years. Ky had watched enough of them and read enough of their histories to realize that they differed as much from the Romans who had lived on the Italian peninsula, as the Picts were from them. Had they traveled back in time and faced their ancestors, they would almost certainly be treated as barbarians. To keep up their populations, the Romans had brought on Gaul’s and Iberians as they moved west and then north, intermarrying and adapting pieces of their culture.

In the end, the Emperor agreed, because he didn’t have a lot of other choices. Even if the first and second legions stood with them, which right now seemed unlikely, they needed more men. Not just for this fight but for the ones to come. Ky believed his plan to deal with the army they’d face would work, but as with the battle in front of Devnum, there would be heavy casualties. Even with the freed slaves and soldiers that decided they’d rather join the Romans than go back to face the penalty for failure, it was unlikely they’d be able to replace all those losses. They needed manpower to survive, and that was all there was to it.

Although the Emperor did sign the agreement with only a few alterations that Ky thought the Picts would accept, he asked that Ky remain behind when the rest of the men who’d assembled left to start working on getting others in their coalition to accept the deal.

“You know there is going to be a backlash to this,” the Emperor said when only he, Ky, and Ramirus remained.

“I don’t doubt it, but we don’t have many choices. It’s either this or Rome gets crushed under the weight of the Carthaginians.”

“I think what the Emperor is trying to say,” Ramirus interjected. “Are that many of the people who oppose the changes you have introduced, are seeing it as taking us away from what it is to be Roman. With each change, you have pushed further and further against what little remains of Rome’s past. I agree that we have little choice and a different Rome is preferable to none at all, but they will not see it that way. So far, it has been posturing and words, but everything my agents find, leads me to believe that time is quickly coming to an end. There have been other times in our past where a vocally opposed faction with legions that supported them resorted to open rebellion.”

“Is there anything you can do to keep this from spilling over into violence?”

“Maybe. I am putting my people in with the legions that have shown open support of Silo’s faction, but they will be able to do little more than notify me if Silo or his legates decide that words are no longer enough. The men in both legions are loyal first to their legates, and the system of rotating men from across the legions has not happened in either. If it comes to it, those men will fight.”

“Can we arrest the leaders now, since we know they are talking openly about rebellion?”

“They have a lot of support among the people. They have had men in the streets talking about your tyrannical rule and saying you plan on taking over Rome for yourself. Right now, you are still fairly popular among the mob, but something like that will convince at least a portion of them that Silo was right all along. I fear that would push us into all-out civil war.”

Ky pursed his lips, frustrated. “So there’s nothing we can do but just wait for them to make the first move?”

“We can prepare some. I know the Praetorians are still in training, but they were partially picked because of loyalty to the Emperor. If possible, I would like to bring some of them in to help guard the palace complex, just in case.”

“Talk to Faenius and see how many he can spare. Most of his recruits are out of the legions so they can guard the palace without additional training, although that means it will be longer before they can start performing their actual duties.”

“I’ll talk to him. Maybe he can rotate the guards so they all still get a chance to train. I just want to make sure we have enough manpower on hand in case something happens.”

“Fine, if that’s what you two think is best,” the Emperor said. “Ky, I know everything you’re doing is to protect Rome, but I think we need to slow down how many changes you are introducing. At least until the masses can come to terms with what you’ve already done.”

“Do we have time for that?” Ky asked.

“We’ll have to find time. Civil war right now would be as bad as not having the manpower to face the Carthaginians. You need to keep enough of the people on your side that Silo and his faction don’t decide they have enough support to take things further.”

“And you’re sure not having the support of the people would stop him?”

“It should,” Ramirus said. “He isn’t foolish enough to think he can overthrow Rome with just two legions, which not only have to defeat the other legions, but also have to then keep the mob under control.”

“I hope so,” Ky said. “For now, this should be the last major change. I will get the forces that traveled south with me settled in and their training begun, and then go back north. Once Talogren has agreed to the details we hammer out here, I’ll use the fourth legion to help him bring those tribes who don’t agree to follow his lead under control. After that, it’s up to him to keep his area under control. I’m not sure he’ll be able to supply more men, but it will open up a new labor source, and allow us to pull the fourth legion home in time for the coming battle.”

“Are you sure pulling the fourth legion off the border is a good idea?”

“As with everything else, we don’t have a lot of choices, but I think it will be fine. The border tribes have almost entirely gone with Talogren and sent the bulk of their free men with me, so there aren’t that many men to raid south if they chose to. Besides, we’ll allow their people to travel freely across the border, just as they will allow Romans to travel north. We will have the Praetorians set up patrols on the border, just to help keep the peace and begin recruiting Picts to extend their patrols into those lands using native enforcement so it doesn’t feel like an invasion. I think, given all of that, we should be fine. The whole point of this is to free up manpower, and a trained and already formed legion isn’t something we can just leave on the sidelines.”

“Fine,” The Emperor said, pushing himself up. “I will work with the Senators to work out the details. It will probably take a few weeks before you can go back north.”

“I know and I warned Talogren it would take time. Just be aware it has to follow the general pattern that I laid out, or we’ve done all of this for nothing. Now I have to go see to the men and families who traveled south with me and find out how we are going to feed this many people.”

Chapter 35

Instead of staying in the palace, Ky relocated to the Seventh Legion’s camp, since they were the closest to where the Picts were being set up. Before settling down for the night, he made a ride through the Pict camps, to check on the conditions. Despite protests from both his lictores and Velius, Ky only took his three guards currently on duty.

While he had put them between two legions to keep an eye on the Picts, just in case, he didn’t want them to feel like prisoners either since one of the keys to bringing them to Devnum to train was to build a working relationship between them and the Romans. He and his men and been in and out of the Picts as they traveled south, which Ky hoped would breed enough familiarity that they wouldn’t take it as some kind of prison guard looking over them.

Velius’s men did a good job and most of the camp was set up and ready to go, following the regulations Ky had given them for sanitation, with latrines separated from the rest of the camp and any water sources and tents in organized rows. Ky could see several wagons of grain and other foodstuffs moving into the camp, as well. The Picts themselves were well behaved, with mostly women lining up to get their allotment.

The one thing Ky hadn’t expected to see was Roman merchants setting up just outside the camps as they had with the other legions, considering the prejudices that most Romans would have for the Picts. There were fewer of them than with the Roman legions, but there were some and Ky imagined once the Pict civilians started working and bringing in additional earnings that they could spend, there would be more.

Seeing them gave Ky hope and an idea. Although the Romans had a real grievance with the Picts, because of border clashes and raids, those were mostly farmers and traders near the border. The people of Devnum had never experienced that and most would have had no contact with a Pict before now. The biggest driver of their prejudice was just unfamiliarity, seeing them not as people but as just something foreign.

While the Picts would probably see the money as the biggest benefit they could get from their dependents getting wage work, Ky had a feeling their creating regular contact between Picts and Romans would be of bigger value long term. Familiarity would help get rid of a lot of the prejudice that the Romans had. There’d be hardcore holdouts, but the ones who had daily contact would quickly grow used to them. Ky sent a messenger back to town to request Hortensius met him at the Seventh Legion’s camp when he was finished here.

Ky finished his tour, occasionally having a word with a warrior here or there that he had met on the journey, before stopping at the tent Llassar had set up in. It was the same as the rest of the Picts, which said something about the man. Roman commanders tended to travel in style and always set up in such a way as to remind all of their men that they were still in charge. It would be unthinkable for a Roman legate commanding an equal number of men to live among them in the same condition.

The only real tell that a commander was living here were the messengers gathered outside, waiting to be sent on this or that errand.

Ky slid off his horse as Llassar came outside.

“Are your people settling in well?”

“Yes,” Llassar said, in his usual laconic fashion.

“Is there anything your men need?”

“They want to know when they will be allowed to go into the forests and hunt.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea. It isn’t that I don’t trust your people, but the warriors will need to begin training with their Roman counterparts so we can work effectively together. We can have more food brought in, if there’s not enough.”

“There is enough, but most of the men do not want to live off of Roman charity.”

“I see,” Ky said.

It made sense. Picts were used to a harder lifestyle and in the north, owing someone else was much more serious than it was in Rome.

“The food being brought in now is only for the first few days, as we get organized. Your men will be paid the same as the Romans and we will try and get those payments started soon so they can buy their own food off the merchants setting up outside your camps. Beyond that, I am working on getting wage work set up in town for any of their dependents that want to help bring in money for their families. Within a week or two we should be able to cut off the supply drops and the men should be able to pay their own way.”

“On the back of Roman coin.”

“Yes, but we’ll be here until the ground thaws and the death worshipers start moving. With this many people, around a city of even more people, I’m not sure how practical living off the land will be. We are paying your men the exact same as we pay a Roman soldier and asking them to live under the same conditions. Except for these first few days while things get settled, we are not offering anything for your men except equality with their Roman counterparts.”

Llassar was quiet for a moment and then nodded in reply.

“I think it would be helpful if you could convince as many of the civilians as possible to take the work we’re finding in town. Besides the money, which I’m sure your people will find useful, I think their intermingling with Roman civilians will make these experiences easier on both them and your people.”

“I will speak with them. Are the Roman soldiers allowed to go into the town or do they only deal with the merchants that will come to them?”

Ky had hoped to keep the Pict warriors at least separated for a while, since he could think of several nightmare scenarios of men going into the city, drinking, or getting into arguments, and the consequences that would come from either scenario. Familiarity might be the best way to lessen tensions between the Picts and Romans, but if that familiarity involved people getting hurt or killed, it would backfire on them. On the other hand, he had just finished saying he was offering equality with their Roman equals.

“Yes, a handful are given passes to go to town for the day, although they’re required to return to camp that evening. I think we should wait a few days before offering the same thing to your men. You understand that they will be required to follow Roman rules and customs while you’re in Roman lands, and will be subject to Roman laws and punishment.”

“Yes.”

While he appreciated Llassar always going right to the point, he sometimes wished the man would use a few more words when discussing a topic.

“You also understand that it is unlikely many Romans will speak the Pict language? If men who don’t speak Latin go into town, then they might find communicating difficult.”

“Yes.”

“Fine. On average a Roman legion gives out fifty passes a day. Once your men start receiving pay, you can do the same and allow fifty of your men to go into town for whatever they need, as long as it doesn’t interfere with training. This wouldn’t include women or dependents or finding work, of course.”

“Alright,” Llassar said.

“I’ll be staying with the Seventh Legion for now. If you need anything, please send a messenger to me and we’ll get it sorted.”

“Fine. Goodbye,” Llassar said, going back into his tent with that terse farewell.

Ky repressed a sigh and remounted, heading back to the Seventh Legion. He was going to have to let the city guard know about the Picts and make sure everyone was on their best behavior and, if a Pict did get out of line, that they worked to keep the situation from escalating out of control. The whole situation was a powder-keg waiting to explode, but as with everything else recently, he had little choice.

“Consul,” Hortensius said when Ky walked into his tent.

Ky was a little surprised. The man who had become the de facto head of Rome’s industrial efforts had a lot to do and Ky hadn’t expected him to drop everything and come to him right away, although he might not have made that clear to his lictores, who sometimes were a little more zealous in carrying out orders than was necessary.

“I’m sorry if we interrupted you from anything,” Ky said. “I was hoping to talk to you today, but I wasn’t expecting you to drop everything and come right away.”

“It isn’t a problem, Consul. Most of what I do is supervise my various foreman and managers and if I did a good job in hiring the right men, then that shouldn’t leave me with a lot of work.”

“Well then hopefully you did a good job hiring the right men. I wanted to talk to you about the need for wage laborers now that slaves are being freed, or at least leaving to join the legions. How are we doing on labor?”

“Not well. I’m sure you’re aware of how much of our industry was driven by slave labor, which is why you had so much pushback on the package of laws you passed. We’ve begun hiring on the backs of the new government contracts, but there is a lot of demand for labor at the moment.”

“I might have a fix for you, then. We unexpectedly ended up with a lot of dependents when the Picts agreed to send warriors back with us to join the war effort. They’re willing to work and don’t want to be reliant on the Emperor’s charity for food and supplies, and that many people left at loose ends can become a problem if they have nothing to do. I’m hoping they might be a solution to your labor problem.”

“Maybe. I’m guessing many do not speak Latin?”

“You’d be correct. They will, in at large, be willing to learn.”

“I’m also guessing they are overwhelmingly female?”

“Yes. I’m not sure how that’s a concern.”

“There are some industries where we will have issues bringing in female workers, such as in the forges. Some of the owners will take whatever they can get, but there is a general belief that women cannot do that type of work. Other employment, like with carpenters, goods transportation, and fabric manufacturing will take them more easily. Come spring, we will need most of them to help with planting, but for now, the manpower we need is more physical than time-consuming.”

“If they really need manpower, I’m sure they’ll figure out a way to make it work.”

“Probably. I’m assuming you want these people employed as quickly as possible?”

“You’d assume correctly.”

“Then I should return to Devnum now and see what I can do.”

“Thank you, Hortensius. I know we’ve been asking a lot of you since I arrived, and while I can’t promise those requests will lessen, I can tell you that both the Emperor and I are aware of how hard you are working for the Empire.”

“It’s my pleasure, Consul,” he said, bowing before turning and leaving the tent.

Ky watched him leave, mentally checking off one box of his ever-growing list of things to do. Tensions were still high in Devnum since his return and he knew that Silo and his people were out there trying to make them worse. He only hoped he was right and once Romans started having regular contact with the Picts, some of that tension would drop off.

♦♦♦

“This has gone too far,” the hooded man said. “You told me you could block him! Now, not only has he outlawed our biggest source of labor, but he’s just marched down with five thousand fucking barbarians.”

A group of ten men huddled in a small villa on the outskirts of Devnum, the lights low more out of paranoia than any actual security. This was their biggest gathering yet and every one of the men present was on edge. They knew that Ramirus had heard about their meetings and his agents were out looking for them, and if the truth of what they were doing came out, no level of status would shield them from the Emperor’s retribution.

“You should be very careful,” Silo said. “If word got out about all of your pathetic attempts on our new Consul’s life, yours would become very short. The Emperor hasn’t held onto control this long because he and his advisors are idiots.”

“Can you block this new alliance?” The hooded man asked.

“No. This is new and nothing our laws even considered, let alone lay down rules on how to handle it. The Emperor has made the agreement by himself and is working out the details now. Unless there is an uprising, this will happen, and once the borders are open and his new barbarian friends start crossing the border, we might never get control back.

“The odds are not good for us,” Eborius said. “The men of the First and Second Legions are ready, but we were already outnumbered before the Emperor started arming prisoners and slaves and a legion’s worth of Picts arrived. Even with Pius, we don’t have enough men to defeat the other legions, if they decide to stay loyal.”

“None of the other legates will support you?”

“No. Velius and Aelius are in the Consul’s pocket and he raised an optio to legate and gave that fool Auspex command after Catilina’s death.”

“What about the legion on the border?” Silo asked. “Are they reliable?”

“Vibius is young and allowed the barbarians to cross the border, even giving a century to help with the march. I wouldn’t count on them,” Eborius said.

“It doesn’t matter, we don’t need to defeat them in battle,” the hooded man said. “We just need to show the mob that it’s possible to stand up to the Emperor. They are as furious at the new laws and barbarians as the rest of us. Once we begin, they’ll join your men in the streets. The Consul is weak. He’ll hesitate before sending men in to put down civilians. By then the Emperor and his lackeys will be dead and Rome will be ours.”

“We tried to get a mob to block the forum and keep the vote on the new laws from happening,” one of the lesser senators said. “We weren’t able to get more than a handful of men and most of the people didn’t care about the slaves being taken away. They were more concerned about the rumors of new work in the factories and mills, and seemed to support the Consul.”

“Silo, don’t let this toad speak again,” the hooded man said. “Of course the mob doesn’t care about slaves. Even an idiot should have realized that. Barbarians walking through the markets, shoulder to shoulder with their wives and children is another matter, however. I know the people and I’m telling you that they will stand with us.”

“If they don’t?” Eborius asked. “I’m not questioning your judgment, but as a commander, I must take into account all possibilities, no matter how little the chance that they happen is.”

“It doesn’t matter,” the hooded man said. “Just make sure the Emperor and his senators die and nothing else matters. Once he’s gone, we can get rid of his Consul and begin putting things back the way they should be.”

“Will the guards that Ramirus added to the palace be an issue?” Silo asked.

“No. There aren’t enough to stop my men. The only thing that could be of concern is the Consul himself. We have heard whispers from his barbarians of his attack on their village, and that no weapon could touch him. If he is in the palace, he could cause enough of a problem to keep us from reaching the Emperor,” Eborius said.

“I might be able to do something about that,” the hooded man said. “I can create enough of a diversion to keep him out of the city for a night, but it has to happen soon, before his barbarians can start getting settled.”

“Then do it. Unless we hear from you, we will march tomorrow night.”

“May the gods smile down on us,” Silo said, with each man bowing his heads in silent prayers to the gods.

Chapter 36

Ky watched the centurions and Optio, who’d been sent to help work with the Picts, carry more wounded Romans who’d only volunteered to help train them. So far they had been at this all day, and very little progress had been made. For the Picts, fighting was a way of life and they went at it full tilt. Except for when they were young, the only training someone got was at the end of another man’s ax. If they survived the experience, they might learn from it and become better warriors. If not, then at least they wouldn’t be a burden to the tribe.

It had taken the bulk of the morning to just get most of them to understand that, in training, they didn’t need to actually kill their opponents. Already, several Romans had needed some level of medical treatment and their list of actual volunteers had begun to dwindle.

They did learn and, by the time the sun had started making its way down towards the horizon, they had figured out the basic idea of what training was. Ky tried to keep from getting frustrated, but at this rate, the Carthaginians would show up before they actually learned what coordinated action was.

Ky’s plan for the battle had some similarities to the plan that they’d used in the battle of Devnum, in that there would be a force whose job it was to stand their ground and a force whose job it was to hold and attack when the moment was right. Originally, he’d planned on putting the new Picts with the attacking force, since that seemed what they were most suited for, but the longer he watched them train, the less certain Ky was of that. Holding back in the face of the enemy wasn’t just discouraged in Pict culture, it was seen as a literal offense to the gods.

The problem was, the defending force needed to hold their ground also, and let the Picts come to them. He’d picked his spot very carefully and it was vitally important that the Romans lure the Carthaginians onto that ground for the final battle. If the Picts were in the defending force and charged at the first sight of the enemy, the plan would fail and they would be annihilated piecemeal. If the Picts were in the attacking force and attacked before the Carthaginians were in position and locked in combat with the defending force, the plan would fail and they would be annihilated piecemeal.

One of the only reasons Ky thought this plan would work was the high level of professionalism the Roman legions displayed and their ability to be precise in the face of serious conflict. If they couldn’t get the Picts to follow the plan, then that would be five-thousand fighters that they couldn’t use until maybe the tail end of the battle, which was why it was imperative that they get them to see the reasoning behind the training.

Despite what some of the legionaries probably thought, it wasn’t that the Picts were dumb or incapable of understanding. They just lived under a very different culture where a warrior’s aggressiveness was tied up not only in their social beliefs, but also in their religious ones.

Ky watched another attempt by the trainers to hold and attack at a predetermined signal, only to have several hundred Picts rush forward at the charging Romans, followed by shouts and drums signaling them to stop, when a messenger rode up at a gallop.

“Consul, I was sent by the commander of the city guard. There is an issue with the …” The man paused, his eyes darting to the Pict leaders gathered nearby.

Ky could imagine the word that the messenger had planned on using before seeing those men turn their attention his way.

“ … some of the men. They need you urgently.”

“What kind of issue,” Ky asked, preferring to know what he was getting into.

“A woman was attacked and her husband beaten. Witnesses reported several … of our allies were involved. A crowd has already started to gather and the commander is worried that it will spill over.”

Ky cursed himself. This was exactly the sort of incident he feared when the Picts asked to be allowed to send men into town. His hands had been tied, but he’d warned both the city guard and the praetorians that were patrolling as part of their training to be extra vigilant.

“I will send some of my men with you,” Llassar, who had been listening, said.

“I appreciate the offer, but I think it might be best if only you came with us. You can make sure we treat your men fairly, but we should be careful until we have a better idea of what’s happening.”

Ky wanted to say that the last thing they needed was to add more Picts into an already riled-up situation, but he was trying to be diplomatic.

“Fine,” Llassar said, collecting himself and getting the horse he’d been assigned at the beginning of that day’s training.

“Ride ahead and tell the city guard to keep the people back and tell the Picts to just wait until Llassar and I get there. Hopefully, everyone will keep their cool until we sort this out,” Ky said to Carus as they began to ride out of camp.

“Consul, we should get together more men, just in case.”

“The last thing we need is more men involved, especially legionaries. If the people think we’re hiding something or treating our allies differently than we treat our citizens, the problem will worsen. The city guard will be there if things should get out of hand.”

“My understanding is that this happened on the outskirts of the city. There won’t be that many of the guards there.”

“You’re not going to let this go, are you,” Ky asked, giving Carus a level look.

“No, Consul.”

“Fine, since it’s on the outskirts, Faenius, station a squad of praetorians nearby, preferably outside the city. If things get out of hand, they can come in and retrieve us. Fair?”

“Of course, Consul. We follow your lead,” Carus said with a devious smile.

Ky just shook his head and put his game face on. When they arrived, he saw the messenger hadn’t been exaggerating. There were well over a hundred citizens pushing in tight against the front of a bar or drinking establishment of some kind, the city guard forming a half-circle around the entrance keeping them a few yards back. The crowd was loud and slowly pushing against the guardsman, their taunts and yells already fairly vocal about what they thought should happen.

For a moment, Ky worried that they might not move at the yells of his guards, which would mean forcing their way through. The last thing he needed was to harm any of the citizens, especially before they’d done anything actively hostile. Although he knew this moment was coming when the Picts and Romans would come to a head, now that it was here he had to thread a very fine needle to keep their new alliance from falling apart.

Thankfully, after a few beats, the crowd parted and let Ky, his lictores, and Llassar through. Once inside the circle, they dismounted and found two guardsmen in an intense stare-off with two Picts, the two groups glowering at each other but thankfully stopping there.

A roman with bruises on his face and blood dripping down the shoulder of his tunic sat on the ground a few feet away next to the body of another man, who wore a tunic the front of which was soaked through with blood. Sophus highlighted and identified a cut across the area of the tunic that covered the stomach as the most likely source of all of the blood.

Near the fallen Roman was the body of a Pict, his throat torn open and blood pooling under his body.

“Thank you for waiting peacefully. I’m going to listen to what the soldiers have to say and then I will hear your side,” Ky said in the proto-Celtic language used by the Picts before switching to Latin. “What happened?”

“A citizen alerted us to an altercation between these three and two shop keepers, who said the barbarians were violating their women. When we arrived, one of the men was dead and they had the other pinned to the ground. We separated them, but a mob had started to form and was getting violent, which made taking them to a holding area impractical. Instead, we waited and sent a man for backup. They arrived and our officer told us to hold until someone higher up could come and deal with the situation.”

Ky looked around again before saying, “I don’t see any women here. Where are they?”

“They had run off before we got here. They said the woman had run off before we arrived.”

“That’s unfortunate,” Ky said, deadpan, before turning to the Picts. “Tell me what happened.”

“We were looking through the stores. We’d been told about being paid soon, and we wanted to see if there was anything here other than food worth having when three women ran up to us. They were aggressive, offering themselves for coin. They were attractive and, had I had the coin, I might have taken their offer, but we were warned to keep our distance from Romans and to do nothing that might cause conflict, and we would be held responsible for anything that happened, even if we didn’t cause it. Bedwyr speaks the Romans’ language, and told them no.”

Ky looked to Llassar, surprised. He’d warned him to watch his men when Ky had given permission from small groups of Picts to go into town, but he hadn’t realized Llassar had given such a specific warning to them.

“The women went mad,” the man said, continuing. “One tore at the shoulder of her dress, and threw herself to the ground. They started yelling, and these men came upon us. Bedwyr tried to explain, but they attacked us with knives. Bedwyr had been closest, talking to them, and the dead man cut his throat before we could react. We came unarmed, but managed to get their weapons from them. We did kill the man and would have killed his friend before these men came.”

“I see,” Ky said, before turning to the man sitting on the ground. “What happened?”

“These animals were attacking three women. They walked right up to them and grabbed them. They tore at one of the women’s clothes, ripping pieces of it off, and threw her to the ground. Claudio leapt in to stop them and that animal stabbed him. I got a weapon away from them and managed to get one of them before the other two got me on the ground. I thought I was a dead man before the guard arrived.”

“They had the weapons?”

“Yes. They were threatening the women with them.”

“All three of them had weapons?”

“Yes,” he said, and then hesitated. “Maybe. I don’t know. I just know that some of them did.”

Ky looked around, at the Romans and the Picts before turning back to the guardsman, “There were only the two knives?”

“Yes.”

“Can I see them?”

The guardsman handed them over. Both had blood on the blades, and Sophus highlighted skin and biological material that suggested one had killed the Pict and the other had killed the Roman. Ky was pretty sure Sophus could have identified which was which if he needed to, but he didn’t. He’d noticed the issue the moment he’d been handed the weapons, without Sophus’s assistance.

“These are Roman weapons,” Ky said.

“Are you sure?” the guardsman asked.

“Yes. I’ve had time to look at many of the Pict weapons, and their metallurgy isn’t as advanced as Rome’s. Their iron is weaker, often pitted. And they use them until they break. You find very few Pict weapons without nicks, gouges and wear. These are practically new. I’d bet they’d hardly been used.”

“They could have bought or stolen them.”

“Have you had any reports of thefts from vendors or citizens?”

“Nothing more than normal.”

“And they haven’t been paid yet, so what would they have bought them with. And why would only two of them be armed, and not the third, if that’s what they decided to do.”

“I don’t know.”

“He said they tore off pieces of the woman’s clothes. Did you find anything like that?”

“No,” the guardsman said, starting to look concerned.

“Do you know this man, either of them?”

“That one,” The guardsman said. “He’s been employed as a street thug sometimes.”

Ky had seen mention of that in the Roman documents he and Sophus had been examining. It was a case of convergent evolution that Sophus had highlighted as interesting. In the original history, during the days of the late Republic, a time period this world had not reached in the same way, there had been rival gangs that, besides being criminals preying on citizens, were often employed by politicians themselves as sort of a muscle for hire.

The Emperor had been working to put a stop to them, but the three gangs currently in Devnum had well-connected friends, including members of the guard itself, who managed to keep them from being arrested, for now. They were one of the things Ky hoped to solve with the praetorians, once they finished being trained.

It was unclear when something similar started being used in this time period, but it wasn’t an unheard-of practice, and Silo himself had tried to use some of the men from one of the organized gangs here in Devnum to force a stop to the voting on the anti-slavery laws Ky had gotten passed. Ky would have to check to see if this man had been involved in the group hired by Silo, but his suspicions were instantly up as he realized that the dead Roman had been involved in one.

“Optio,” Ky said to the Roman guardsman he had been dealing with. “In your experience, does someone employed by one of the gangs as a street-tough often come to the aid of a woman being assaulted?”

“In my experience, they are usually the ones doing the assaulting.”

“That was my thought. Do these men sometimes have women with them?”

“Sometimes.”

“I think you should find which women have been working with them, and see if our allies here can identify any of them as the women they encountered.”

“Are you saying you think this was set up?”

“Does this whole thing seem to fit that man’s story?”

“No, consul. What do you intend to do?”

“Let you work; find out what happened.”

“What about the crowd? They are starting to become hostile.”

“I’ll talk to them,” Ky said, before getting Llassar’s attention. “Get your men ready to travel. We’re going to take them and their fallen friend back to your camp. They’ll have to remain in camp until this is sorted out.”

“We’re to be punished?” one of the men said, angrily.

“No, unless you’re lying to me. Everything here says you’re telling the truth. They are going to look into it more and see if they can prove it one way or another. That man will be held by the guard for now, since everything is telling me he’s lying. I’m sorry if you feel being confined to camp is a punishment, but until it’s sorted out, it’s safer for you and for these people if we keep you away for now. I know it’s not fair, but sometimes we have to deal with what is. Once we’ve sorted it out, I will make sure we get justice for your friend.”

Neither man seemed happy about it, but at least they didn’t throw a fit. Ky found his horse and mounted it, so that most of the people in the growing crowd could see him.

“Citizens,” Ky said to them, looking at the sea of faces. “I know all kinds of rumors are making the rounds about what happened here and you want to see justice happen. I promise you …”

Ky was interrupted by screams and then a slow but increasing number of people running in their direction from the center of town. Ky connected the dots at once and knew what he’d find when he went to investigate whatever was causing people to flee. The thugs connected to Silo. Victims who ran away before anyone could see them. Blaming their new allies who many Roman citizens would have already been suspicious of.

Ky had expected Silo or one of his supporters to start complaining the moment he entered the city, but so far they hadn’t made any complaints in the forum or in person. Ky had been concerned that they were being so silent, but assumed that they were just gathering their forces and making sure they had enough backing this time, since they’d been sidestepped the last time they’d tangled with him. Although he’d had warnings from Ramirus and the Emperor that if he pushed too far, they might try a more forceful approach to getting their way, both men had made it seem that if he stopped where he was, the Emperor still had enough support among the people to keep Silo from acting rashly.

Ky knew without a doubt that they’d been wrong. Silo had set up this incident, probably as a pretext for military intervention, but hadn’t waited to see the outcome or if he actually got enough of the mob to turn against the Emperor to ensure support. They’d decided to go now regardless, probably thinking they needed to go now, before Ky could go north again and possibly bring down more Picts, putting the odds even further out of their favor.

“Return to your homes,” Ky said loud enough to pierce the growing commotion.

Although the guardsman had been saying that same thing for twenty minutes, the people listened this time, although most likely more out of fear for whatever was causing panic than from listening to any actual orders.

As the crowd began to disperse, Ky found the lead guard and said, “Get as many men as you can and form up here.”

“Shouldn’t we go …”

“NO!” Ky said, vehemently. “Do not go into the center of town until we have amassed more men.”

“Silo and his two legions?” Carus asked, causing the guard commander to suddenly realize what was happening, his face going white.

“Yes. Send someone back to bring as many praetorians as possible, and one legion. The other two are to circle the town from either direction. They wouldn’t all have been able to get into the city this quickly without being noticed, so most are still probably formed outside of town. If they are not in their camp and are armed, whichever legate finds them can give them one warning to throw down their weapons. If they don’t comply, I want them caught between the two legions circling the town and smashed.”

“My men can help secure the city,” Llassar said.

“They set up this situation here as a pretext, hoping to rely on Roman prejudices. If your men could help the two circling legions, that would be appreciated, but I want to take as many prisoners as possible. No killing anyone who surrenders and no entering the town.”

Llassar didn’t seem happy, but he nodded.

“I’ll send one man with you and your two men,” Carus said to Llassar, surprisingly switching to the Pict language.

Ky hadn’t realized that Carus had learned the man’s language, but it made sense. His word usage wasn’t perfect and it was clear he was still learning, but it was intelligible. He was more intelligent than he normally let on, and once he realized what Ky was planning, he would have started learning the language.

As Llassar’s two men doubled up on his and Carus’s man’s horse, Ky made sure the guardsman were headed to retrieve reinforcements on their own.

“They’ll be going for the palace,” Carus said. “we’l go and try and assist the Emperor.

“No,” Ky said.

“Even with the additional praetorians you sent, there is no way they will be able to stand against the forces Eborius is likely to send. We have to go to the Emperor’s aid.”

“I know, and I am going to try and get to the Emperor and hold them off until the rest of our forces can get here. You, however, aren’t going. I can’t protect you, not against those numbers.”

“We aren’t here for you to protect us. We are here to protect you.”

“There’s nothing they can do that will hurt me. You don’t need to go.”

“Consul, we are wasting time. Where you go, we go.”

Ky could see that Carus meant every word of it. He worried that he would be taking his men to their deaths, but he didn’t have time to argue.

“The number of people coming this way is going to make it slow going, and I want to harm as few of them as possible,” Ky said instead.

“Then we should stop discussing it and go,” Carus said.

Ky didn’t begrudge the drop in protocol. Things were tense and he knew they didn’t have much time.

Chapter 37

Even though the crowd broke for their horses, it was still slow going to the center of town, with the mass of Romans fleeing increasing, packing together tighter and tighter.

“Leave the horses,” Ky said. “We’ll have to go on foot from here.”

They tied the horses up to one side, although Ky was fairly certain one of the fleeing Romans would get the idea to take the unattended mounts so they could make a faster escape from the city. It took more time for them to push through the crowd, Ky leading the way since he towered over most of the Romans.

Had they been hit now, their ability to defend themselves would have been limited, but Ky didn’t think they’d run into any of the rebelling legionaries until they got right up to the Palace. While Eborius was smart enough to have his men encircle the palace complex, they would be completely focused on that series of buildings and wouldn’t be expanding out, since their only real goal was to kill the Emperor and as many of his advisors as possible. They saw themselves as liberators, so they’d probably try to keep from causing much damage outside of the seat of government, since they’d still want a city to rule once they succeeded.

As they pushed their way through the crowd, Ky sent communications requests several times to Lucilla, without any response. He would have had Sophus try and break through, but the communicator required her to activate it on her own, which is why he’d had her not disconnect when she’d been captured up North.

Maybe it was too loud or there was too much going on and she just didn’t think of it. When she’d contacted him right before she’d been kidnapped by the Picts, she’d been locked inside the small temple, and had time to think before the Picts were on her.

Ky hoped that was all it was, because the alternatives didn’t bare thinking about.

By the time they ran into their first soldier, Ky could see the tops of the palace. Ky didn’t doubt that the soldier was from the First or Second Legion. There hadn’t been time for Llassar to warn any friendly legions and have them respond for him to be anyone else.

At first, Ky thought he might have been there as a scout, watching for the loyalist counter-attack Eborius would have expected, since the camps of the Seventh and Ninth Legions were roughly in the direction Ky had come from, or from city guardsman. If he had been a scout, he would have turned and run away, off to warn his comrades that people were coming.

Ky was surprised when he didn’t do that as Ky and his companions emerged from the back of the crowd that was still fleeing the city center. Maybe he saw four men and thought he could take them or maybe he recognized Ky and thought there was some chance of personal glory, but instead of fleeing, the soldier lifted his gladius and took up a fighting stance, waiting for the four of them to reach him.

Ky accelerated, leaving his men behind, just in case the soldier got a lucky swing at them, reaching the man a good ten steps ahead of Carus. The soldier pulled up his shield, half covering his body, his gladius ready to stab out, in the classic Roman fashion.

Ky didn’t try anything fancy. They were close to the palace and he could hear the noise of fighting. The man stabbed out, his timing good, and nearly lost his sword as it bounced against Ky’s shield, not that it mattered. Ky’s own sword shot out with inhuman force, tearing through the layers of wood, the force pressing the shield into the man. Ky’s sword punched through the metal armor, its tip exploding out his back. Ky hadn’t been able to see the man’s body, but Sophus had been able to project targeting based on the limbs it could see and his aim was true, as Ky’s sword obliterated the soldier’s heart on its way through his body.

The poor man was dead before his body hit the ground, by which point Ky was already several feet away, having hardly broken stride. His men had seen Ky work before and didn’t slow down either, other than to step around the body as they struggled to keep up with their commander. They were on the north-south thoroughfare through the city, which made a sharp turn right before the palace, part of the original planning that was meant to slow down an attacking force if they got through the outer walls.

As soon as they turned the corner, Ky could see the swell of men pushing into the palace, which looked to be surrounded, at least on the three sides he could see. Ky hoped this meant that the commander had been smart and abandoned the rest of the buildings, holding up in the center of the palace and forum. It had also been designed to be defensible, in case an enemy had gotten to the center of town, with twisting, narrow hallways that lead to the forum in the center. That allowed an open area for the defenders to retreat to, creating bottlenecks from the two entry points on either side. A larger attacking force would lose their advantage of numbers thanks to the way the Romans fought, forming a shield wall and pressing against the attacker. While that probably wouldn’t save them, since any force that got this far into the city would eventually win through simple attrition, the designers had apparently decided they’d settle for extracting a large body count from their enemy before the city fully fell.

In this case though, it might save the Emperor, if Ky could get to him and Lucilla in time. The attacking Romans were paying attention, however, and weren’t going to make it easy. A dozen men turned and broke off from the mob of soldiers pressing into the palace entrance, formed up into a battle line, and began a steady approach.

Carus and his men did not have the tall Roman shields, since they were expected to be bodyguards, not soldiers. Ky didn’t have time to face off against the Romans in small pockets while they continued trying to get through the palace.

Reaching down, Ky activated his sidearm. He didn’t want to use its precious ammunition and had been holding off using it even when things were desperate, such as his attack on Talogren’s village, but he had no choice now. He could see the men outside the palace slowly making their way inside, which meant they were pressing back the defenders.

Ky also had to be careful with its use since its super-heated gases could easily tear down parts of the palace after passing through soldiers. It would be a cruel irony to defeat the attackers by crushing the defenders inside.

Ky fired twice, Sophus calculating the angles well. The first shot ripped through four of the Romans marching towards them and tore a swath through the Romans advancing towards the palace, killing twenty by his count before taking out a corner of one of the nearby buildings and dissipating. The second shot left the weapon less than a second later in a similar arc down the other side of the palace, killing five more of the approaching men and another fourteen behind them, closer to the complex.

The remaining three men did the smart thing as Ky turned his weapon towards them. They may not know anything about the technology he was using, but they’d seen the small box in his hand melt their friends twice, and had figured out that it destroyed what it pointed at.

The men threw their weapons to the side and ran.

“Let them go,” Ky said when one of Carus’s men tried to follow. “We need to get into the palace.”

The soldiers that had been coming in from either side, having circled around the palace, had ground to a halt after seeing the destruction Ky’s two blasts had caused. Some ran, others just stood still, staring at melted piles of metal and bone. That level of destruction, especially how quickly it happened, was beyond anything they’d experienced, just like it had been for the Carthaginians at the swamps.

Ky didn’t dare use it again, still hoarding the precious remaining ammunition for the coming fight with the Carthaginians, but the two shots had been enough to slow the flood of soldiers around the building. The soldiers close to them, at the back of the crowd pushing to get inside the palace, had turned at the tearing sound of Ky’s weapon and the shouts of their dying and mortally wounded comrades, but were locked in place by shock, the same as the men closer to the dead rebels.

They fell easily under Ky and his lictores’ swords. Ky had waded halfway into the massed soldiers before he started getting real resistance, with soldiers desperately trying, and failing, to harm him. Had he been alone, Ky would have gone through them like a buzz saw, but he was slowed trying to block the blows directed at Carus and his two men. For a moment, Ky thought he might be successful in getting through the line of soldiers, having pushed almost to the entrance of the narrow hallway being defended by the Emperor’s guards.

Then tragedy struck. The men outside had begun to move again, closing in behind them. Iovinus, the man furthest back, fell to a gladius through his side as he tried to defend against three attackers from different directions. Ky reached out and pulled Carus and then Pacatianus behind him, changing places with them, reasoning they would have a better time against men fighting in two directions than trying to keep from being flanked on all sides.

“Switch. Fight through to the Emperor. I will follow behind.”

“Consul,” Carus shouted, starting to argue.

“Don’t argue. Get to the Emperor. I am right behind you.”

By then Carus was fighting off two soldiers and couldn’t respond. The floor was slick with spilled blood and hard to traverse without tripping over the quickly piling bodies. They were brave, Ky had to give them that, as men fell one after another under his sword. Occasionally he would turn around, letting his shield take the brunt of the attacks as he closed the distance between himself and Carus. Carus and Pacatianus had found shields from fallen men and were using them to slowly push back the men between themselves and the Emperor’s guards, the two-person abreast formation working to their advantage.

Carus was still doing well, but Pacatianus was limping badly, blood trickling down his leg from a deep gash just below the edge of the armored skirt that covered the Romans from their waist to a few inches above the knees.

“Consul, I can see some of the praetorians,” Carus called over his shoulder.

Ky glanced back quickly to assess the situation. Carus was right. They had eight rebels caught between them, in four groups of two, with the rear two facing Carus. Unfortunately, the second pair closest to the praetorians had the short spears the Romans were fond of, allowing them to stab over while the soldiers in front of them stabbed low from the hip. The two angles made it hard for the praetorians to defend against, which is why the Romans had devised that as a standard method of attack in the first place.

Even as Ky watched, one of the praetorians took a spear to the chest and fell back. The group pushed forward in the moment it took another praetorian to step forward, which meant the guard who’d been uninjured had to step back as well, to maintain a solid wall with the replacement. The rebels getting precariously close to the opening that led into the forum, where they wouldn’t be confined by the narrow hallway any longer.

Carus and Pacatianus would be through them soon, since the rebels were caught between two sets of attackers, but it wouldn’t be soon enough. Pushing through to join the Emperor only to have the rebels into the forum itself, would have been just as bad as failing to link up with the Emperor at all. Ky hated to use his sidearm again, but he needed to clear a path so he could switch with his guards. More than that, the turning hallway made it impossible to fire straight out.

“Can I fire without taking the building down?”

There was a pause as Sophus did the calculations, which spoke to how complicated that question was. Ky could see in his readout a long series of calculations, examining past views of the building, inside and out, looking for structural weak points and material analysis, and then a series of rapid simulations.

While it had all happened in under a few seconds, which was an astonishing display of computing power, it felt like an eternity as Ky fought off more Romans, who were trying to push him into the guards behind him. Although they couldn’t actually harm Ky, they could get around him. Ky wasn’t large enough to actually block the hall, and the soldiers understood that. They had tried time and again to stab his guards in the back, to even up the score, which meant Ky couldn’t just stand there and take the hits. He had to actually block the stabs and thrusts that tried to get around him.

“There is a seventy-two percent chance the area around the forum will not collapse if you fire on this precise vector,” Sophus said as Ky slashed down, taking off the arm of another attempted stab in the back on Carus.

“Seventy-two is not good odds.”

“You do not want to know the odds if you miss the displayed vector,” Sophus said, its emotionless voice making the warning that much more ominous.

Ky didn’t have a choice. They were running out of time. Pulling his weapon, he locked his arm in place and took careful aim along the targeting path displayed across his vision. For a moment, the Romans in front of him must have thought they had amazing luck, as Ky switched his sword to his off-hand and lowered it as his attention was focused on making sure his shot was accurate. Both men began to lunge forward, to stab around either side of Ky, when the simmering blue orb expelled from the end of the weapon and ignited the molecules in the air around it. They never had a chance to scream, both men obliterated in an instant. Most of the men in the hallway didn’t have a chance either as the plasma radiated out, killing all of them.

The screams didn’t start until the brick and mortar melted at the first turn. Sophus had been accurate in its calculations. The area around Ky and his men stayed firm, but beyond the turn, the room and walls collapsed in, raining tons of stone down on the attackers. As the hallway became blocked off, the sounds muffled, which made it impossible to tell how far the collapses had reverberated and how many men had just been crushed to death.

Their rear secured, Ky turned and pulled Carus back, so he could slip around them, blocking an opportunistic jab by one of the rebels to try and take out a momentarily exposed Pacatianus. That was the only chance they got as Ky tore through the men remaining between the praetorians and themselves.

“Friends,” Ky called out as he cut through the remaining two rebels, at last opening a space between themselves and the Emperor’s guards. “This way is blocked for a while. Go help defend the other hallway.”

It took a second for his words and identity to pierce the focus of combat before the handful of men by this hallway went scrambling towards the other hall, Carus and Pacatianus in their wake.

The scene in the forum was ghastly. The marble floor was wet and pink from the blood of almost two dozen men lying on it in various levels of distress. Some of them wouldn’t make it through the evening, let alone survive their ordeal. Even the ones better off were seriously injured, and it looked as though any of the men who could still stand were engaged in the fighting at the other end of the forum. Ky wanted to join them and help keep more of their men from dying, but the Emperor intercepted him, blocking his way.

“How is it?”

“I don’t know,” Ky said, his eyes staying on the remaining hallway, watching for a sign that he’d have to run and help. “I was already in town investigating a report of two Picts assaulting Roman women and killing one of the men who came to their aid. It turns out the men have worked for Silo before. We were just finishing up when the insurrection began. I believe this is only the First and Second Legions, and it appears the bulk of their forces are still outside the city.”

“And our forces?”

“I sent a man back to Velius and Aelius with orders to circle the city in either direction, putting the two legions between them and using the Picts as a reserve. We outnumber them and even with the element of surprise, I don’t believe they will be successful. My only concern was that they reach you and Lucilla before we could stop them, which is why I came here instead of leading the counter-attack myself.”

“While I appreciate you thinking of our safety, you should have gone to the legions. If they don’t win, all is lost, regardless of what happens to us.”

“If you are lost, then all is lost anyway. Your son has made it clear that he agrees with Silo. If he becomes Emperor, Rome stands no chance,” Ky said, before movement in at the hallway entrance drew his attention. “I’m sorry, but I have to go help them, or this conversation won’t matter either way.”

The Emperor gave a nod and stepped away, letting Ky pass. As he crossed the floor of dying and wounded men, he caught Lucilla’s eye as she looked up from assisting in tending to the injured. They didn’t say anything, but Ky felt a wave of information pass between them. He was surprised that a single look could communicate joy, sorrow, relief, and reassurance all at once, but he felt all of those from her and was certain she felt them in return.

Ky looked away, refocusing on his task at hand, but a part of him stayed with her, thinking about her as he assessed the situation. Another praetorian was carried out of the hallway, passed back by his colleges. Ky used the opportunity to move up in his place, taking his short stabbing spear from him as he passed. It was awkward going past a dozen men filling the hallway, but he eventually made it, behind two praetorians fighting for their lives. They were being pressed hard and Ky needed an opportunity to get past them. Using his sidearm again wasn’t an option since it would, at the very least, seal them into the forum from both sides, to say nothing of killing the two men in front of him.

Instead, Ky sheathed his sword and took another short spear from one of the men that had, until a moment before, been thrusting it over his companions’ shields in hopes of catching one of the rebels from a different angle. Gripping both above his head, so they cleared both men in front of him, Ky threw both spears simultaneously, putting all of his power behind each.

They punched down, through both rebels’ shields and continued through the men’s bodies, into their companions beyond, at a sharp angle so that they pierced shoulder to mid-torso of the first man and then mid-torso to the groin of the man behind him. Even Ky’s strength couldn’t make them go through the second man, but it didn’t matter. Their bodies worked as a barrier for the men behind, at least for a moment, which was enough time for Ky to push to the front. Reaching down and grabbing one of the fallen men’s gladius, Ky was ready when the bodies were pulled away and the attack resumed.

This time, the situation from the other hallway was reversed. Ky stood in the middle of the hallway, with the two praetorians behind him, shield blocking any attempt to stab around Ky, their short spears stabbing down over either side of Ky, not that they found many targets. The tempo changed, the flow of men slowing as Ky cut down any new attackers almost as quickly as they moved forward, the bodies beginning to pile up, making a barrier of their own, forcing their friends to remove them before they could continue the attack.

As a dozen, and then two dozen and then three fell beneath his swords, Ky wondered how long these men could keep coming forward to be slaughtered. The men moving up had to see how hopeless the situation was. Finally, the flow stopped; and the men Ky could see started backing out of the tunnel. He could hear shouts, but the hallway’s turns blocked most of them, making it difficult to tell what the men were saying.

When the last rebel retreated from view, Ky said to the men behind him, “Stay here, hold this position.”

Thankfully, Carus was too far back to be able to reach Ky, letting him venture out on his own. There was a chance this was some kind of chance, a ruse to lure Ky out and try to dispose of him another way. Ky could think of several ways they might kill him despite his shielding. Collapsing the building on him, perhaps, and he didn’t want to give them that chance, if he could help it.

Coming out into the outer foyer of this side of the Palace, Ky could see what had made them back up. Battle standards of the Seventh Legion were moving down the street. The soldiers that had been assaulting the palace were outnumbered significantly from just the men he could see, and their coming from the direction where the First and Second Legions had been camped meant that those two units were no longer able to come to their aide.

The coup was over. Now they just needed to assess the price they’d been forced to pay for their victory.

Epilogue

It took hours to round up the survivors and a full day to remove all of the bodies in the streets. Thankfully, there had been little damage outside of the palace, since all of the fighting had been either inside the palace building itself or in the plains outside of the city.

“How bad is it?” the Emperor asked when Ky rode through the barriers now surrounding the palace complex and to the small gathering on the steps of the palace.

Faenius hadn’t taken any chances, despite the surrenders, and had his men erect wooden fortifications around the entire complex. The only armed men allowed inside were praetorians, since in the final tally about a fifth of the city guard had joined the attacking forces. Everyone, even Ky, was stopped and checked on the way inside the secure area. Ky was impressed with the efficiency of it, and it spoke well to the ability of the praetorians to protect the security of the Empire in the long run.

“Bad, although it could have been worse. We lost about a thousand men in total, mostly among the Seventh, which hit both the First and Second Legions head-on, holding them in place until the Ninth Legion and the Picts could get around. The Third and the Fifth both came in through the city and were the ones who actually lifted the siege of the palace. By the time the Seventh broke off two cohorts into the city itself, they’d already cleared the other side of the palace, although they hadn’t reached us yet, because of the collapse.”

“Yes. Although I understand why you did it, they’re telling me it won’t be repaired for months, probably not until the summer.”

“At the time it seemed like the thing to do. We were being pressed from both sides of the forum and we needed to concentrate our forces.”

“Like I said, I understand. How about the losses among the rebels?”

“That’s a lot worse. They lost about thirty-five hundred men in total, mostly to the Picts, who hit them hard from a third direction after they were already engaged on two sides. It wasn’t a complete envelopment, but it was close. They’re going through the men now and figuring out which ones can be absorbed by other legions and which ones will have to be held. By the time we get this sorted out, it’ll be spring and we’ll be up against the Carthaginians.”

“That’s almost a full legion, across both forces.”

“Yes. It’s not good. We needed those men, although Eborius had already made it clear he didn’t plan on participating in our plan, so in the end, we might actually have more soldiers in the field.”

“Speaking of Eborius?”

“Died in combat leading his legion into the Seventh. They found his body an hour ago. Pius still lives, although he took a bad blow to the head.”

“What about the ring leaders?”

“We got most of them, at least those we know about such as Silo, Mutilus, and Spurius. There’s also other news.”

“Ramirus told me a few minutes ago. Have you found him?”

“No. There are reports that Caesius fled as soon as the Seventh started to engage the First Legion. I think he saw the writing on the wall when they didn’t capture you right away. All indications point to your son being the ringleader. Silo hasn’t talked, but Spurius started offering information for his life as soon as we took him. He also suggests that your son has been in contact with the Carthaginians directly.”

“I can’t believe he’d do this.”

“I think it goes further than that,” Ramirus said. “I haven’t said anything yet, because we’re still interrogating the ring leaders, but I am pretty sure he was behind your poisoning. Clovius took poison when we went to bring him in, after learning about your son.”

Despite his renewed vigor from the medical nanites when Ky first arrived, the Emperor looked old and broken.

“I need to rest.”

“We’ll find him, your majesty,” Ramirus said.

The Emperor just nodded and leaned on his daughter, who gave Ky a worried look before helping her father off.

“He’s taking the news badly,” Ramirus said to Ky when the Emperor had left.

“You warned me I was pushing too hard, changing too many things. I know you had said it might come to civil war, but I hadn’t expected it to happen so fast, especially with the Carthaginian threat hanging over us.”

“It would have happened either way. Remember the attempt on the Emperor’s life happened before you arrived, and I get the impression from Spurius that Caesius’s betrayal to the Carthaginians happened long before that. I would bet he’s who told them about Lucilla’s journey to the Glevum, and how to find them.”

“If we find him, I want him brought back alive, to answer for his crimes.”

“If he is working for the Carthaginians, then he probably ran all the way to Londinium. We won’t get our hands on him any time soon.”

“We’ll get there, eventually. I told the Emperor I would bring Rome through this, and I meant it. We’ll beat back their army, we’ll kick them off of Britannia, and we will make sure they never threaten Rome again.”

“As you say, Consul,” Ramirus said with a slight bow of his head.