Chapter 18

Imperial Palace, Devnum

Lucilla made her way down the dimly lit corridor deep in the palace complex, far from any windows or light. Although she grew up in the palace, this section always seemed so unwelcoming that she hardly ever came down here. Now, as Empress, she usually just made anyone who might be located here come to her. If she hadn’t had one of the guards leading her, she was certain she would have gotten lost.

She didn’t bother knocking as she got to the door she was looking for, another benefit of being Empress, only to pause as she found Ramirus behind a long table scattered with papers which took up much of the cramped room.

“ ... very angry. He only stayed five minutes before leaving again.”

Ramirus and the woman both stopped as the door opened. Ramirus looked surprised for a moment, before his gaze softened as he recognized Lucilla. The woman had the opposite reaction, going from curiosity to shock.

“Your Majesty!” she said, going to one knee, her head dipping down. “I’m sorry. I didn’t ... You ... I.”

“You’re fine,” Lucilla said, reaching down and pulling the woman to her feet, giving her a warm smile. “I’m the one who should apologize. You two were talking and I interrupted.”

“Your presence is never an intrusion, Your Majesty. This business can wait,” Ramirus said, before turning to the woman. “Please excuse us, Opima. We will speak again soon.”

Opima bobbed a hasty curtsey to Lucilla before scurrying from the office, the guard outside pulling the door shut behind her.

“One of your agents, I presume?”

“Opima is a friend to the Empire,” Ramirus said, gesturing to one of the chairs. “What can I do for you, Your Majesty?”

Lucilla rolled her eyes at the spymaster. He sometimes seemed incapable of answering even the simplest questions, even to her.

“I’ve made a decision,” she said, taking a seat and folding her hands in her lap. “I want to go to Germania and speak with the leaders of the Germanic tribes directly.”

“That’s quite the journey, and not without risks.”

“I’m aware of the risks, but I believe it’s necessary. We are having no luck finding the men Ky needs to keep Italia pacified so he can continue his march south, and they’ve shown more willingness than anyone else to provide warriors. I’ve run out of options here.”

“Beyond the fact that they’ve already given quite a few men and still have scattered remnants of Carthaginians in their own lands, my greater concern for this is your own safety. The Carthaginians would love nothing more than to get their hands on you, and you won’t have the same protection in Germania that you have here in Rome.”

“I understand the risks, Ramirus, but we don’t have a choice. We need those men, and if my being there personally can ensure their cooperation, then I must go. I know you’d rather I send someone else to negotiate, but so far, they’ve been working with the Consul. Sending a functionary now could be seen disrespectful, as a sign that they’ve become less important to us now that the war has moved south. I am the only right choice.”

“I’m sure they understand that our focus must be where the fight is,” Ramirus countered. “They were still actively engaged in hostilities against the Carthaginians last year. People don’t forget that easily.”

“Before Bomilcar left for the continent last year, I spoke with him at length about the tribes and their customs. At the time, it was mostly curiosity. I’ve never been to Germania, and there are some similarities between the tribes there and the kingdoms of Ériu, so I’d hoped some of what he shared would be transferable. One of the things he made clear was the importance they put on how things are respected. Yes, they would understand that Ky had to be with the armies, and maybe they would accept a representative of a lower position, but they might not. We are running out of options and this is the best one left to us. If we send a representative and they do take affront, we might be left with no other options. I’m not willing to take that chance.”

Modius, who had been standing silently by the door, spoke up. “I believe this is a mistake. This trip is an unnecessary danger and we cannot guarantee your safety. As Ramirus said, there are still scattered Carthaginians throughout the region. The legions may need additional men, but they need you to keep the Empire together more.”

“I understand your concerns, Modius, but this is what has to happen.”

Modius frowned, looking more displeased than usual, which was saying something. He, however, didn’t say anything else.

“You should listen to your guard, Your Majesty,” Ramirus added. “I assume you’ve seen the reports I’ve sent you. You know how dangerous this is. Please, let me send someone in your stead. I will even go if you want me to. Your place is here.”

“I appreciate your concerns,” Lucilla said, heartened that her people cared for her so deeply, but annoyed she had to keep repeating herself. “But my decision is final. I am going, and if I have to sail a ship myself to get there, I will. Ramirus, send word to the chieftains that I request a large gathering at the village we’ve been using for the northern supply shipments. I want as many as possible of the tribes we’ve been in contact with to attend. Tell them this has to do with the weapons supplies being sent and their allocation, and requires leaders or people capable of making agreements to be present. That should be enough to get them there.”

“I hope you’re right, and that your presence there will be enough to convince them, but you should be prepared for the worst. Their last response to the Consul’s request for more men left the impression that they have no intention of providing more manpower.”

“I’ll have to be persuasive then,” Lucilla said.

“There are also going to be complications here,” Ramirus added, still not giving up. “The Empire is still young, fragile, and you’re well aware of the complications we’ve already had. The insurrections may be over, but we’ve got plenty of loyal subjects who’d be very willing to let us lose this war if it meant personal gain. We’ve done well keeping them in check, but it seems likely that, with you being gone, they will see this as an opportunity. You could be setting up more problems for yourself in the future.”

“I know, and we will have to deal with that when it happens. I want you both to hear me on this,” she said, giving both Ramirus and Modius a serious expression. “This needs to happen and is my will as Empress.”

Ramirus sighed, “Very well. I will dispatch agents to the tribes and begin making arrangements for your journey and protection.

Northern Italy

Raśna watched as the Britannians as they packed their tools, still covered in a sheen of sweat after a long day’s work in the sun. A stack of stones, gathered by his people over the last several weeks, but much smaller now, still lined the banks of the river. Raśna allowed himself a small smile as he realized how much they had overdone it, without his even having to press them.

When word had spread that the bridge was going to finally be replaced, his people had volunteered almost to a man to help gather the stone needed for it. Several had made it sound like a practical exchange, the offer to help get the job done faster, but he knew some also had started to feel they had taken too much advantage of the Britannians’ charity, and wanted some part in the work being done for their home.

Which was for the best. Even if they didn’t do the work itself, they would all have a sense of pride every time they passed over the bridge, as it should be.

“I think we’re about done, Elder,” the young Britannian Sextus said, breaking from his men and coming over to where Raśna had been watching them work. “I’m sorry, but we haven’t been able to thoroughly test it. I’d hoped we would be able to do that today, so you could start using it right away, but the sun’s already starting to go down, and our orders are firm.”

“I understand, Decanus,” he said, reaching out and grabbing the young man’s hands. “I know you’ve received less than a friendly welcome among some of our neighbors, and I don’t fault your superiors for their caution. Please know how grateful we are for your help, and how thrilled we are to see your progress. You and your men continue to astound us.”

Sextus gave a small grin as he did every time he was complimented, the one that reminded Raśna of his grandson. It was easy to forget, when these men were in their armor, looking ferocious, how young they were. And like his grandson, Sextus was a good boy, even if he was from a far-off land.

“We will return tomorrow to ensure the bridge is stable enough for your people to use,” he promised. “Then you won’t have to make that roundabout trip anymore.”

“Thank you again,” he said, still patting the man’s hand. “We look forward to seeing you tomorrow, even if you aren’t doing more work for us. You know you are always welcome in our homes.”

“I appreciate that,” Sextus said, squeezing Raśna’s hand in return before pulling free.

As the Britannians left, the village settled into the evening routine, families getting their dinner, exhausted after a long day working the fields. Lights from candles and cooking fires began to sparkle to life, as darkness closed in.

It was a scene that Raśna had witnessed countless times before, but one he still savored. He relished this time of the night, as he walked through his village and listened to his people living their lives. It was almost serene to him.

This night started out just the same, until he made it back to his own home and the tranquility was shattered by a scream somewhere in the darkness. Raśna froze, listening intently, trying to determine where the sound came from, and if someone needed help. And then chaos erupted as more cries and shouts followed. He’d just started down the main road of the village, toward where the cries were coming from, when he saw armed men swarming toward the village center, some bursting into homes and dragging people out, while others slaughtered those who tried to flee.

Worse, as the first men got close enough to be seen in the dark, Raśna realized he recognized some of the assailants. They were neighbors who had vanished with the Carthaginians when they fled before the Britannian advance. He’d assumed they had fled south with the Carthaginians, since most had had better relations with their former overlords than he or the rest of the village had had.

Worse, he also recognized some of the men as Carthaginians, by bearing if not specifically recognizing individual men.

“What is the meaning of this?” he shouted at the men as they continued to go from house to house, pushing and forcing everyone to the center of the village.

One of the Carthaginians nearest him backhanded Raśna across the face, sending him to the ground, before grabbing him by the neck and pushing him to join the rest of his people, forcing Raśna to his knees. A moment later, his nephew Sicanus, who lived further on the edge of the village, was dragged into sight and thrown to the ground next to him.

Over the next ten minutes, more and more of the men, and even some of the women of the village, joined them. Most were the leaders, farmers, and craftsmen who held prominent places in their neighbors’ lives.

“What is happening?” Sicanus gasped, clutching a bleeding gash on his arm.

Raśna just shook his head, at a loss for words.