The Triumph of Venus - Cover

The Triumph of Venus

Copyright© 2024 by Lumpy

Chapter 2

Devnum

Lucilla sank back into the cushions of her chair as the last senator filed out of her office, blowing out a long breath in relief. The day’s meetings had tried her patience to its limits. Senator Alypius, that pompous windbag, had prattled on for nearly thirty minutes about the state of security for Rome specifically and the Empire in general. Amazingly, without ever offering any useful suggestions or even really getting to a point beyond ‘people are unhappy.’ Of course, he failed to mention that the unhappy people he was talking about were unhappy because of his proxies, which had been on street corners and inns, banging on and on about escaped prisoners and plots in shadows hatched by ‘foreigners.’ It was no surprise that, no matter how hard Ramirus’s men tried, they could never quite work out what foreigners these mouthpieces were talking about. That was the point. To get power, you had to get people motivated, and fear was by far the easiest way to motivate the mob.

The heavy oaken door opened again as Modius ushered in Faenius, who followed the captain in, ramrod straight as ever. Faenius had an air of somber duty about him that Lucilla found equal parts reassuring and wearying. Though she trusted the prefect’s judgment, he lacked the agility of thought she often required of her advisors.

“You summoned me, Your Majesty?”

“I did,” she said, letting more of her annoyance with the senators slip out than she had intended. “The prisoners, Faenius. I want to know why we haven’t been able to recapture them yet. It has been months, and they are still out there. These are foreigners, with no support and no supplies, that somehow seem capable of avoiding the entire might of my Empire.”

“Apologies, Your Majesty. The fugitives have proven difficult to capture. It remains my highest priority, and I have nearly half the men assigned to Rome as a whole, out scouring the countryside for them.”

“And yet they continue to evade you,” Lucilla pointed out again.

“Rome is a large place, especially for a few dozen people, to disappear in. Much of the southern areas are still empty, with the ruins of villages scattered across them, remnants of a century of Carthaginian rule. There is even the possibility that some Carthaginians remain in those areas, having escaped the fall of Londinium, assisting these escapes.”

Lucilla paused, trying not to be as annoyed with him as she was. She felt for the Praetorian and knew the challenge she’d given him was large, but she also needed it accomplished quickly, and he hadn’t done that.

“Faenius, you have served me loyally and proven your worth countless times over the years. But in this matter, I’m afraid you are failing me.”

Faenius blinked, the only outward sign of his surprise at her blunt words, “Your Majesty, I assure you my men and I are doing everything in our power to recapture the fugitives.”

“And yet they continue to roam free, terrorizing my people. I’ve heard the reports, Faenius. Robberies, ransacked farms, women accosted. They grow bolder by the day. I cannot have these men terrorizing our citizens, not when I need the entire Empire focused on what matters. Finishing our fight with the Carthaginians. With the enemy gone from our shores, it’s easy for the mob to think they are gone for good. You and I both know this is different, but it is difficult to convince the farmer or factory worker of this fact, especially in the face of more local problems. I need results, Faenius. And I need them now.”

“Your Majesty, I humbly beg your forgiveness for my failure in this matter. My men are stretched dangerously thin as it is, limiting how many men I have to search for them. Many skilled veterans have been reassigned to train your new Praetorian cohorts in Caledonia and Ériu, or to the legions to help with security, and recruitment has been very slow. With the war entering its third year, the legions require every able-bodied man. My traditional recruiting grounds within the legions themselves, are from the veteran core, but those men are required for the ongoing fighting. We’ve attempted to train raw recruits, but the majority of the men we get are sent to the legions, leaving very few to train as Praetorians. I’ve attempted...”

Lucilla raised a hand, cutting him off. “You need not explain further, Prefect. I am aware of our manpower difficulties.”

Lucilla studied Faenius for a long moment. Faenius had always been dependable, and she disliked having to be so harsh with one of her most loyal retainers, but she had been backed into a corner that left her with few options.

“I understand the difficulties you face, Prefect, and I do not envy the position you are in. Recruiting able warriors has ever been a challenge, more so now with legions spread across the continent.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty. I assure you that my men and I are employing every resource at our disposal to hunt down the fugitives.”

“That is good to hear. However ... there are greater concerns here than just the security of these men. There is a political price that must be paid, in addition to the dangers they pose to our security.”

Faenius started to speak, probably to apologize or defend his efforts again, but Lucilla held up a hand, stopping him.

“It was my edict that created the prisoner work camps, which means the responsibility for their escape also sits with me, at least in the eyes of the Senate and the people.”

Faenius’s lips thinned, but he held his tongue.

“I know you to be a trusted ally, Faenius,” Lucilla continued seriously. “But as Empress, I must be firm in the face of failure, regardless of fault. I will give you until winter’s end to recapture the fugitives. If they remain free beyond that...”

She trailed off significantly. Faenius’s jaw tightened, but he bowed his head in acquiescence.

“I understand, Your Majesty. It shall be done.”

“Very well. I leave the matter in your capable hands.”

Faenius thumped a fist against his chest in salute, “By your command.”

He pivoted sharply and left, spine rigid. Lucilla watched him depart, fingers drumming against the arm of her chair. She disliked placing undue pressure on a loyal subject, but the political situation left her no choice.

He wasn’t the only one she didn’t have much control over at the moment, either. As soon as the Praetorian left, she saw Gaius, her aide and unofficial guard, waving at her from near the doorway that the next person to see her was here.

She grimaced. If anything, this was going to be a more troublesome meeting than the one with Faenius. Giving Gaius a gesture, she watched as the young man stepped outside, the doors opening to admit Cormac Cond Logas, Prince of Ulaid, noble of the merged imperial house of Germanicus, and a pain in Lucilla’s posterior.

He was an energetic young man with dreams of glory floating around in his head and little else to get in his way. Lucilla knew that wasn’t fair. Cormac wasn’t stupid, or she wouldn’t have picked this assignment for him. He just wasn’t as smart, or clever, as he thought he was. That, coupled with his near-boundless energy and propensity for boredom when his whims weren’t catered to, made him a risk.

Even with that, he would be a solution to multiple problems ... if he could be corralled.

For his part, he was a lot less enthusiastic than normal. After everything that had happened with his wife, the former queen Medb, and the absence of the man ostensibly put in charge of him by his father, Cormac seemed, if anything, uneasy. Perhaps he thought he was being taken to task for some of his wife’s recent unfortunate choices.

“Prince Cormac,” she greeted him, inclining her head respectfully. “I hear from Llassar that your studies are going well. You’ve made great strides over the last year not only learning about the running of the legions and logistics needed to supply them, but you have spent a lot of time with the Senate, learning how that august body functions.”

She didn’t mention that in his spare time, he’d conspired with, if not actually helped, his wife’s attempt to undermine her rule in an ill-fated gambit to get some kind of control for herself. Due to his father and how at arm’s length he’d been, he’d managed to avoid the consequences of his wife’s actions, and now decorum required they all pretend it never happened.

“Oh yes, it’s been incredibly productive,” he said, forcing a smile.

“Good. I’m glad to hear it. However, as productive as it’s been, I’m aware you feel somewhat underutilized here, perhaps even bored, since arriving in Deva.”

Cormac’s false smile faded, and he nodded, “I admit I grow restless studying ledgers and sitting through endless council meetings. I want real challenges.”

“I know. I also know your father’s reasoning for sending you here was sound. You’re young, and there is a lot to learn about governing. However ... I also understand you’re not the kind of person who can easily take to this kind of life.”

“You’re sending me to join the legions?” he asked, unable to keep the enthusiasm from his voice.

Lucilla regarded him steadily for a moment before saying, “No, I’m not.”

“I don’t understand,” he said slowly. “If not the legions, then where?”

“I’m sending you to Hispania,” Lucilla replied. “While the legions march toward Africa, we have a problem at their rear. Their supply lines run past Hispania, and while we have allies in Gaul, those allies do not get along with the tribes of Hispania. We also have concerns that, with us siding with their more traditional rivals, those tribes may be forced back into the arms of the Carthaginians, further endangering our final push. What we need is someone to lead efforts there in, at the very least, negotiating with the tribes to sit out the conflict, without choosing a side. Our actual hope is that they can be convinced to join our cause actively and become part of the larger alliance we are building, perhaps even contribute warriors to join the fight.”

“My Empress,” he said, clearly frustrated and trying hard to be respectful. “I ... While I appreciate you think I am ready for more important service, surely the legions would be a better...”

“Cormac,” she said, interrupting him. “I know that you would prefer a military posting as opposed to being given the responsibility like this; however, a leader must go where he is most needed, not simply where he wants. Securing Hispania and the supply lines to the legions is critical to the success of our campaign against Carthage. By entrusting this task to you, I am demonstrating my faith in your abilities and my trust in you.”

“Oh,” he said, apparently not considering that this was more than a punishment.

“Beyond your duty, this is an excellent opportunity for you to prove that you have absorbed the skills you were sent here to learn and are capable of putting them into action. Make no mistake, while this is a symbol of my faith in you as a leader and a man, this is also a test of whether the faith we put in you is misplaced or not. Of whether you are going to be more than just a general, leading men into battle.”

“The Consul is in charge of a legion. Multiple legions, in fact. Kings lead their men into battle. It’s what makes a good king.”

“There were a dozen kings in Ériu leading armies against your father. Where are they now? Did that make them good kings, these men who put their people under the yoke? My husband would be the first to tell you that he is a soldier, not a politician. He’d be the first to tell you he is not cut out for the intricacies of the palace. If you want to succeed your father one day, you have to stop thinking like a soldier or a general, and start thinking like a ruler.”

“And how do I do that?”

“The first step is to realize that leaders lead men, while rulers lead generals.”

“Oh,” Cormac said.

“Indeed. This is a great moment for you, Cormac. A moment for you to realize who you could be, if you want it enough.”

“I think I understand, but...” he said and paused, the bravado stripping away for maybe the first time since he came to Devnum. “How do I know where to start? I’ve watched the Senate and talked to your advisors, but I’ve never negotiated with tribes before, let alone convinced them to do something that might be more in my interest than theirs. I’m not sure how to do that.”

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