Chapter 3

Devnum

`It’s too cold to be out here,’ Lucilla thought as she strolled through the small, protected garden along the center of the right wing of the palace where she and Ky had spent so many hours together.

Gaius had practically pleaded with her to stay inside where it was warm, and where, coincidentally, he could have more scrolls and documents for her to read and approve, but she’d had enough. The meetings, audiences, and conferences were, if anything, getting worse. She’d been inside for almost thirteen hours today with barely a break to eat. She needed fresh air, no matter how cold it was.

She did feel a little guilty, looking over at Modius as her guard stamped his feet in a futile gesture for warmth. Still, if she could stand it, so could he. She’d just started another lap when a chime sounded in her ear.

Trying to keep it subtle, she looked around to see if anyone else was in the garden and made a motion for Modius to give her space. She was pretty sure they’d worked out that she was talking to ... someone when she asked for moments like this, though she doubted any of them would guess the actual truth. At least this time, the wind was moving a bit, the noise helping to drown out her conversation, which could be whispered and Ky would still hear.

“It’s late there,” she said, chastising him.

She knew, vaguely, that the sun set earlier the further east you were, but living in such a small region her whole life, she was still adjusting to the fact that it was much closer to the middle of the night where Ky was than it was for her, and that daytime would arrive almost a full hour earlier there before she experienced it here in Devnum.

She also worried about how hard Ky was pushing himself, getting the legions ready to march in a month and a half’s time.

“It’s not that late,” he said. “And I keep telling you that I don’t need as much sleep as everyone else.”

“Less sleep is not the same as no sleep,” she pointed out.

“I know, and I’ll be going to bed soon. We haven’t had a chance to talk in days, and I miss you. I just wanted to hear your voice again, before I turned in.”

“I see ... well, then. You’re forgiven,” she said, smiling to herself.

She could see Modius exchange a glance with Cynwrig, and could only wonder what they thought she was doing, muttering softly to herself and smiling a silly smile that normally only Ky got to see. She had to be the Empress with everyone else, but with him, she was still Lucilla. Well, him and her guards when she talked to him in the open like this.

“How are you?” he asked.

“The same. Tired, restless, wishing I was there with you.”

“You’re in the courtyard?” he asked.

“How ... did Sophus tell you?”

“I do not report on your activities or whereabouts without permission unless it is an emergency or critical to either your or the Empire’s well-being,” the AI said.

It had taken Lucilla a long time to convince Sophus of the need for privacy, even from Ky, and why she’d want to at least have the choice whether she told him things or not. It wasn’t until she threatened to remove the transmitter and hide it in her rooms until she needed to talk to Ky that it finally acquiesced. In a show of its gaining ... humor, she guessed, it now threw that back at her every chance it got.

“My implants are better than the earpiece when it comes to picking up sounds, and the device in my head also allows me to separate the sounds better. I could hear the wind and rustling trees.”

“You know that sounds like a lie, right?” Lucilla said.

“And yet, it’s not.”

“Fine. Yes, I’m in the gardens. I couldn’t stand another minute indoors. Gaius is constantly at my heels with more work, and I’m starting to see reports in my sleep.”

“Heavy lies the head,” Ky said.

“What?”

“Nothing. A writer that may never be born,” he said, sounding wistful, like he did every time he thought about the future, or what he saw as the past.

“How are the preparations going?” Lucilla asked, changing the subject.

“There’s still debate among the legates, and I can’t get a consensus. Bomilcar argues we should consolidate our gains this year before attempting an invasion of Africa, but delaying risks losing momentum and straining already stretched resources. Marcus and Vibius argue we should charge headlong into Greece with two legions, while the rest march into Italy, attacking the Carthaginians everywhere to keep them from concentrating their forces and attacking us from the rear. Aelius and Auspex both side for a more limited approach.”

“But you agree with Aelius and Auspex. That’s the majority of you; why not do that?”

“Because it’s better if I let them come to a consensus and guide them. True, I could just tell them how it will work, but I want their buy-in. Subordinates function better if they have an active role rather than just following orders. I need them to be able to make decisions and think for themselves if I detach them, and limiting them now might make them hesitant to make a decision when it comes to it.”

“Surely you don’t need to treat Bomilcar that way. That man is never unsure about his decisions as it is.”

“No, he doesn’t need handholding, but he’s also a different case. With him, I need the others to see me treating him as their equal. He’s generally accepted by the men, but that acceptance is still fragile. It would only take the appearance of a little doubt on my part to make it something else.”

“So you’ll continue to argue all winter?”

“If need be. They are keeping to the training schedules, and the men are coming along well, so allowing this to drag out a bit won’t delay us from marching as soon as the roads thaw. Speaking of preparations, though, what did you decide about Hispania?”

Lucilla paused, taking a moment before responding. “I’ve decided to send Cormac to Hispania.”

“Cormac? Are you sure that’s wise after everything that happened with Medb?”

She could hear his dismay through the comms.

“I know it’s a risk, but Cormac wasn’t directly involved in Medb’s scheming. And he’s eager to prove himself.”

“The boy is headstrong and foolish,” Ky said bluntly. “He’s likely to cause more harm than good. We need someone with experience negotiating alliances. Besides, have you forgotten you nearly had to execute his wife for treason two months ago?”

“I very much have not forgotten,” she said, taking a sterner tone. “I understand your reservations, my love. Cormac is indeed flawed and foolish at times. But he is also eager to prove himself. More importantly, we must give him that chance eventually, or risk straining relations with his father. There were reasons I didn’t execute Medb for what she did, reasons you agreed with at the time, and none of them have stopped being true. I understand the risk, but he wasn’t involved with that. In fact, when he heard what was happening, he worked with us to stop it. Yes, he is susceptible to her charms, which is why I am not sending her with him.”

She slowly paced the garden path, realizing she’d stood still for too long, and that others might be watching, “Our relationship with the Ulaid is still fragile, and Cormac is Conchobar’s only living son and heir. Keeping him here under the pretense of ‘studying’ under Llassar cannot continue indefinitely. It has been a year already, and Conchobar is starting to become impatient. His hope in sending Cormac to us was for him to get real-world experience and learn what he needed to know when he’d be king, especially in the new world we’re building. He isn’t getting that by watching senators argue.”

“Which does not mean he won’t fail,” Ky pointed out.

“Everything is a risk. Yes, he might fail, but he could also rise to the occasion when given real responsibility. The only way to know is to test him. Llassar will be there to advise, and Cormac knows the consequences of failure.”

“I still think this is too much responsibility too soon for Cormac,” Ky said. “Why can’t we start him off with something less critical? Hispania is as close to us as Gaul and is going to be important in how the continent shapes up in the future, once the war is done.”

“I wish we could, but the truth is that there are no ‘less critical’ assignments right now. The Empire is stretched thin fighting this war. We can’t afford to waste resources and manpower on giving Cormac a pretend command just to test him. Besides, there is an upside to sending him instead of someone else. Like him or not, the way the Empire is set up, he’s in the line of succession should something happen to us before we have a child, and assuming Talogren continues avoiding legitimizing any of his. There is a diplomatic benefit to using a member of the ruling house, even one by extension, over a bureaucrat or unconnected diplomat. It will give his words more weight than those of anyone else we could send.”

“It really depends on what those words are,” Ky muttered.

“I heard that, and you’re not wrong, which is why Llassar went with him. He’s shown a talent with the boy, and he has Conchobar’s trust. It’s the only real option I could see available to us. Unless you have another? One of your legates, perhaps?”

“No. Even if I leave a legion behind, which is still being discussed, to guard our rear and function as a source of reinforcements, sending a soldier would almost certainly convince them we’re no better than the Carthaginians.”