Chapter 15

Lucilla knelt before the altar in the small sacellum, the flickering light of the oil lamps casting dancing shadows across the mosaic floor. She bowed her head, a thin veil placed over her wavy black hair, clasping her hands together, letting the faint scent of incense wash over her.

“Great Jupiter, protector of Rome and its people, I humbly seek your guidance and strength in these troubled times,” she pleaded in a soft whisper. “Your servant Ky, your sword, has brought us great victories in your name. But we hang on a precipice of losing all that your benevolence has given us. I beg you, Jupiter, to grant us aid in our time of need. Help Ky find the men necessary to finish this war, to protect our people and restore peace to our lands.”

She clasped her hands tighter as she offered up every part of herself to Jupiter, in hopes that he would hear her plea for her husband and her people.

“Empress, I do not understand why you continue to engage in these rituals,” came the voice of Sophus in her ear. “You are aware that Ky was not sent by Jupiter. By all rational measures, these ‘gods’ do not actually exist.”

Lucilla smiled softly, keeping her head bowed.

“My family has looked to the gods for protection for generations, Sophus. And when I needed them most, they sent me Ky. Yes, I know where he truly comes from. But even you cannot say for certain how he came to be here with us. I choose to believe it was the will of the gods that pulled you both from your far future home and delivered you here, to save my people,” she said, pausing and taking a deep breath of the incense. “Besides, I find peace here in these quiet moments. It is more socially acceptable for an Empress to seclude herself in a temple than to hide away in her bedchamber.”

“I find your superstitions fascinating, Lucilla. It is intriguing how humans can attribute the inexplicable to divine intervention, even when faced with rational evidence to the contrary.”

“Perhaps it is because we find comfort in believing that there is something greater than ourselves, guiding us through the chaos of life. It gives us hope and strength, even when all seems lost,” Lucilla said, smiling in amusement. “If my praying bothers you so, Sophus, perhaps you should help me find a solution instead.”

“I did not mean to imply I was bothered, Lucilla. As I have explained, I am incapable of being upset or offended. I am merely intrigued by the human tendency towards faith and ritual. But of course, if you require my assistance, I would be more than willing to provide whatever analysis or advice I can,” Sophus replied in its usual calm tone.

“I need help convincing the Ulaid and Caledonians to provide the men we need. Simply promising things I have already pledged, like new rail lines, was clearly not incentive enough during my last negotiations. I need to offer them something more tangible, something that will both improve their lives now, and free up much-needed labor, especially with the harvest season approaching. I don’t blame them for their reticence. They may have the men who are not occupied now, but once harvest is upon us, they’ll need all the men they can get, and Italia is so far away.”

“There may be a solution, Lucilla,” Sophus began, its voice steady and unwavering in her ear. “I can propose two potential solutions that may sufficiently incentivize the Ulaid and Caledonians to provide the additional manpower you require.”

“Really?” she said, surprised.

She’s mostly talked with Sophus about its opinions on Ky’s situation, what he needed, and the like. She’d only asked it about options of what to do as a joke, teasing it for its continued bafflement at humanity. She usually relied on Ky to determine what and when to introduce new innovations, her involvement mostly being acting as the go-between for Hortensius and her husband. She hadn’t realized until then how interconnected all of these innovations were, or how complex the steps to getting to them could be.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” it said, using her title in one of its many attempts to ‘humanize’ itself. “The first is a mechanical reaping device. Britannian steel making and tooling has now progressed to a sufficient level to make the device possible. I have enough data to guide the engineers in Factorium to design and build an early version of the mechanical reaper.”

“Mechanical reaper?” she repeated. “A device that harvests?”

“Essentially correct. It is a large, wheeled machine that can be pulled by a single horse. Along the front is an articulated arm with a reciprocating blade that can cut an entire field of grain rapidly. Compared to dozens of men needing to swing scythes to harvest a field, this device would allow just one man guiding the horse to accomplish the same amount of work in a fraction of the time. While planting crops is still a labor-intensive task, the mechanical reaper greatly reduces the manpower needed during the critical harvest period.”

“That’s brilliant!” she said, and then lowered her voice. The rooms were secluded, but the walls were not so thick that someone in an adjacent room could not hear her. “That is exactly what I’ve been trying to find.”

“It will not be a simple process. It is a complex machine that requires more than fine tooling to produce. Maintenance will be an issue and will require training of local smiths to repair them properly as they break down. It is one of the reasons it was decided not to introduce the device at this point. It will also slow rifle production until Hortensius can further expand his production facilities, as it requires some of the same fine tooling machinery.”

“We can handle that. You said there were two ideas that could help?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. The rate of production of nitrate is now sufficient to keep up with the gunpowder production quotas with some surplus leftover, and the development of the tools necessary to produce ammonia as part of the process for generating viscous rayon, collectively provide the pieces necessary for the production of ammonium nitrate, a powerful fertilizer. This chemical will increase crop yields substantially when applied to fields. With higher yields per acre, less land and labor are required to feed the same population.”

“These could both be major improvements for us, notwithstanding helping to get more manpower for the legions. I wish I’d known about these sooner,” Lucilla said.

“I apologize for not providing them. As the operating process for new innovations has been set to proceed through the commander, and he has been distracted with leading military efforts, the rate of introduction has slowed commensurately. Should we change our process to take into account the commander’s unavailability?”

“Yes,” she said slowly. Sometimes, the way Sophus spoke was hard for her to follow, using words that sounded Latin, but were not. Words she knew covered ideas from outside her time. “I don’t want to remove Ky entirely. There is too much I don’t know for me to make decisions on why and how to introduce new technologies. Perhaps you and I could decide when we have the manpower to take on a new innovation and then consult with Ky, instead of the other way around. I will discuss this with him and see what he thinks. He’d be a better judge of it, anyway.”

“As you say, Your Majesty.”

“In the meantime, tonight, I want to start drawing up plans for Hortensius and Sorantius. Let’s start with the fertilizer since Hortensius still has the railroad to deal with.”

“Of course, Lucilla. I can provide you with detailed schematics for the mechanical reaper, as well as an outline of the process for producing ammonium nitrate fertilizer. I can also provide estimates on the resources required to manufacture the reapers and the amount of fertilizer that can be produced in a given timeframe.”

“Thank you, My Friend,” she said.

She offered up a silent thanks to Jupiter. In spite of Sophus’s skepticism, this was more proof to her that he was watching over her people. She knew Jupiter had directed their conversation, prompting her to ask for assistance at the right time.

She knew her gods were with her and would see them through.

Northern Italy

Ky and Marcus entered the small village, led by Decanus Sextus and his Germanic centurion, Egilgar. Unlike Ky’s last visit to a village in this area, where the residents had fled in terror or formed angry mobs, these people stood to the side of the narrow, muddy streets, eyeing the armor-clad soldiers cautiously as they approached, more out of curiosity than fear.

The group made its way through the village until they reached a simple home on the eastern outskirts, made notable by the freshly installed thatch roof, still firm and new, with a group of men standing outside, watching them approach.

One man, humbly dressed in a plain wool tunic, unlike the finer linens of the others, gave a small bow of his head and warmly greeted them, “Welcome to my home. Please, come inside and find rest.”

The wording was peculiar, although as far as Ky knew, this region didn’t have a specific greeting for guests. Still, Ky gave a small head bow in return.

“Thank you for your hospitality, Sicanius. Decanus Sextus has told us of your generosity.”

“If by generosity, you mean berating him as he and his men built this roof, then I’m sure it was legendary. Still, he’s a good young man and does your people proud,” the villager said, opening the door and waving Ky through.

“He certainly does,” Ky said as he entered the man’s home, with Marcus, Egilgar, Sextus, and the villagers filing in behind them.

The interior was simple, but clean and well-kept. A small fire crackled in the hearth, casting a warm glow over the room. The men took their seats on stools, that seemed too nice to belong to the simple man.

The village elder, a man with thinning white hair and a weathered face, slowly lowered himself onto a stool opposite Ky and said, “Greetings, Consul. Thank you for visiting our village. I will be the first to admit that when your people first appeared, we were very nervous about having them here. The things we’d heard ... it doesn’t matter. What matters is that your man Sextus has been all over our village for the past several weeks, doing all kinds of repairs. Just yesterday, I heard he was at one of the outlying farms putting up a new storage barn. I don’t even know how he heard about their difficulties, but to say the family is ecstatic would be an understatement. Your other men have seemed to follow his lead, repairing buildings, delivering much-needed supplies, and even mediating a few disputes.”

“I’m glad to hear that our men are making a difference,” Ky said. “This is precisely what we sent them to do. Having been under Carthaginian occupation as well, before we liberated ourselves, we know well the toll their governance can take on a place and its people.”

Ky was stretching the truth a bit there. Although Rome had been affected by Carthaginian rule in southern Britain, and many of their allies had been under Carthaginian control, their situation wasn’t exactly comparable. It seemed, however, a good way to build a connection with the man.

“Indeed. My nephew, Sicanius here, couldn’t stop singing your man’s praises, or those of the rest of your people. Word has spread, and other villagers have shared tales of your assistance. They’ve seen your soldiers handle confrontations with restraint, preventing minor skirmishes from escalating into larger conflicts.”

“I’m pleased to hear that,” Ky said. “My officers emphasize daily the need to handle any confrontations calmly, without escalating conflicts unnecessarily. It’s not always easy with young soldiers far from home, but they’ve taken those lessons to heart. Is there anything further we can provide for your people? Supplies, repairs, settlements? My men have time and are eager to assist however they can.”