Chapter 9

Between Devnum and Factorium

Lucilla stared out the window as the train raced along the newly laid tracks, the countryside whipping past in a blur. She marveled at the speed—almost as fast as a galloping horse but smooth and steady instead of the jouncing gait of even the finest destrier. The ribbons of steel track stretched to the horizon, following the curve of the land and cutting through the countryside straight as an arrow. She gripped the edge of the seat unconsciously as trees and hills appeared and disappeared past the window of the passenger car in a constant stream.

A string of wagons came into view, traveling along the road that ran between Devnum and Factorium, which had curved toward the rail a little bit earlier and were, for now, running parallel to the tracks. The wagons were heavily laden with goods, and the horses strained at their harnesses, pulling their burdens from the manufacturing center to the waiting ports. They would have been on the road for at least an hour already, for their trip between Devnum and Factorium, and still had more than an hour left to go, where she had been traveling for just over fifteen minutes with maybe ten or fifteen minutes left in her trip. It was difficult to comprehend, even if Ky liked to tell her how painfully slow even this form of transportation was compared to what he was used to.

“Are we safe going this fast?” she said.

She looked to Hortensius when she’d spoken the words, but her question was really intended for Sophus, who had more knowledge about these machines than anyone in the Empire.

“Perfectly safe, Your Majesty,” came its calm voice. “The locomotive and carriages have been designed and constructed to withstand far greater velocities than this. They have a long record of service, and Hortensius is an excellent engineer. His reports on all tests to this point have been well within expected ranges. This is a very reliable mode of transportation. You are in no danger.”

“Completely,” Hortensius said, grinning, as he sat across from her, not realizing the question had been meant for another. “We actually had it going a little faster on our last empty run, but I wanted to moderate that now that we’re carrying cargo. Several of the Consul’s notes included indicators for problems and required maintenance checks as the tracks and engines age, but I promise it’s perfectly safe.”

“It is a marvel,” she said, unable to keep the sense of wonder out of her voice.

“It certainly is, and the speeds are not the only benefit. While not as applicable for short trips — like this one, to Factorium — imagine the time savings to somewhere further like Eboracum or Londinium. We save not only the time from the constant higher speeds, but there is also no need to stop and feed the horses or allow for sleep. The further the train has to travel, the more time is saved, since a train can go through the night all but uninterrupted.”

“A marvel,” she said again. “And the ride is so smooth. While I always look forward to our visits, I never relished carriage rides on the rutted roads to Factorium, being bounced around like so much cargo. I think I could sleep on this train.”

“Yes, it will make for much more convenient travel, without a doubt. Far more important than the comfort is the cargo this train can carry in a single trip,” Hortensius said excitedly. “This one locomotive hauling these few carriages can transport as many goods and supplies as all of the wagons we currently send from Factorium in a day. And we can run five, six trips or more daily, and with heavier loads than this one is set to handle. We could send out tenfold the materials we ship now in one fell swoop. Or we could if we started producing more. All with just a handful of operators on the train, instead of the dozens needed now for all of the wagons we’re sending.”

“Which raises the question as to the next step, now that this section is underway. I understand there is still work to be done at the two ends of the line, but this was never the end goal,” Lucilla said.

“No, it wasn’t. While the port here is currently our largest export center, that is mostly due to its convenience to Factorium. The captains I’ve spoken to have pointed out that, when doing trade up and down the Continent, where more and more of our shipping is going every day, it’s slow and inconvenient to sail around the island. Even though it’s further away, a lot of the cargo has already begun to shift to Londinium, even with the current trip taking the better part of a week. With the railroad, we can reduce that to a single day hauling a hundred times the weight of a current wagon load. As soon as that happens, I predict there will be a large readjustment in where and how our merchants continue operating.”

“And you’re still thinking about having the rail lines converge in Factorium?”

“Yes. I know Devnum is the political heart of the Empire, but every day, more manufacturing moves out of the capital as the end products become more complicated, requiring multiple layers of manufacturing, as opposed to it all being done in one place. I don’t know if the Consul planned for that or not when he first introduced his assembly method, but I feel like he did.”

Lucilla knew for a fact Ky had predicted just that, as they had discussed it. He was just hesitant to predict too many outcomes, as the legend around him and his divine connections had already grown beyond what he was comfortable with.

“Beyond Londinium, I believe our next priority should be extending lines north to the mining areas of the northern Roman lands and southern Caledonia. If it wasn’t for other concerns, that might actually be the first place I’d want to build rail lines to the north. Especially since the volume of materials going to Factorium is greater than those shipped out, and a shortage of just one type of material can slow down dozens of production lines. That can have add-on effects that ripple out from there. There have already been a few moments where we’ve gotten very close to having several of the lines making cannons and rifles go down because of limited base materials.”

Spoken like the manufacturer that he was, with an eye only to efficiencies and production schedules.

“But, we do have other concerns, unfortunately,” Lucilla said. “Which is why I’d like for you to start considering the next line to be to Monadhcarden. We have made promises to the Caledonians. The roads beyond the wall are ... not of the best construction. For any coming from their lands south, it is an unpleasant journey. We’ve told the Caledonians we are all one people now, and they are our equals. We can’t then run lines between our cities and only give them lines to areas where we can get some kind of value out of them.”

“Your Majesty, I would never...” he started to say, shocked and a little offended, until Lucilla cut him off.

“I know. I’m not saying that’s what you’re doing, only that it can be interpreted that way. Unfortunately, in politics, how something can be interpreted is as important, if not more important, than what the actual intent is.”

“Well,” Hortensius said, looking out the window and thinking. “Monadhcarden is not far from some of the mines. Using it as a hub will still cut down on transportation times. I’ve also been looking at the idea of smaller engines — by that, I mean lower-power engines with smaller boilers, not physically smaller — that can run on shorter spur lines, which is essentially what this line is. There’s no reason to go all out on these smaller lines when a round trip is less than an hour.”

“I leave it to your expertise to decide that,” Lucilla said. “Along those lines, we need to consider lines outside of Britannia proper. If we put a line into Caledonia, Conchobar is going to want something comparable in Ériu. I know they’re not producing the volume of raw materials Caledonia is, at the moment, but most of that is because Caledonia didn’t suffer under the Carthaginians in the same way. In a few years, they should largely catch up with Caledonia, if nothing else, because Ériu is larger, and has more resources to exploit. I will send a message to Conchobar and start having him explore the subject. Although, that might require him to come here and see your invention in person first. I’m not sure anyone would believe me if I tried to describe this wonder to them.”

“As you say. Once we build the line to Londinium, we should learn some lessons that will make building later lines faster and, barring a few exceptions, any track we put down will not be much longer than the one from Factorium to Londinium.”

“Good. After that, we’ll need to start thinking about the Continent itself. I don’t imagine we’ll be in time to help the war effort.”

“No, it will be at least two years before we get there,” he said.

“That’s fine. Having the promise of it might be enough to encourage more aid from our allies there, as long as we give reasonable timelines for when a continental rail system can be started. At the very least, we need to start considering the challenges that building it will pose while we work on the one to Londinium. And then we have to figure out how to pay for it, of course,” Lucilla said.

That, however, was a question for Lurio. For now, Hortensius knew what he needed to do and had enough work on this project to occupy him for some time. They could start considering the details once the networks here at home were built.

Until then, she could still use what they had. Seeing this in practice would go a long way to convincing allies, who were on the fence about extending additional support, that they could win this war.

Northern Italy

Ky pored over the map spread across the table, deep creases lining his forehead. The campaign through Northern Italia had already proven more troublesome than anticipated and had steadily gotten worse. As Bomilcar had predicted, the empty villages were just a sign of the real problem of Carthaginian sympathies and, worse, Carthaginian insurgents were scattered about the countryside, waiting for Britannian legions to move past, when they could start causing more problems.

Which is exactly what they had done. As soon as a legion passed an area, problems began. Sabotaged telegraph wires, vandalism at military depots they set up along the way, disappearance of horses and oxen if the men guarding them stopped paying attention long enough.

“Consul, there’s a messenger here,” Comitianus, one of the lictors on Strabo’s watch, said, sticking his head inside the tent.

Ky frowned. Another issue caused by their being so spread out. Bomilcar and his commanders had all headed south to try and to close the gap with Auspex, who had done as ordered and moved rapidly to reach villages before they had an opportunity to abandon them. At the time, that had been their main concern, before the rash of sabotage and thefts had started plaguing their lines, which is why Ky had volunteered to hold things down along the rear until Marcus could settle his area and move his men up.

“Report,” he said, waving the man in.

“The telegraph team stationed in Sarveta is under attack, sir!” the messenger gasped out. “They say a mob of armed villagers descended on them without warning, outnumbering them at least five to one. They are barricaded inside the station but won’t last long.”

Ky swore under his breath. Sarveta was only five miles away, it was directly north of them, and the telegraph line ran straight through it. Marcus was on the other side of it, still closer to Gaul. With the increase in incidents, losing communication with his legion would be a problem. Not to mention the lives of the legionaries now holed up in the station.

“Thank you,” he said to the messenger, dismissing him before turning to Comitianus. “Find the tribune; tell him to put together a unit to relieve the men at Sarveta.”

“That will take time, Consul,” he said. “Will they hold out that long?”

“Not if you don’t get them moving soon. I will go now, while a larger force is pulled together.”

Comitianus looked pained, “Consul. You can’t...”

“I can do whatever I think is prudent,” Ky said, pulling his breastplate over his head and strapping it on. “If you want to rouse Strabo, or Sellic, or anyone else and chase after me, then do so. But only after you deliver my message to the tribune. Understood?”

“Yes, Consul,” the man said, not even waiting to be dismissed as he dashed out.

Ky could hear him yelling as his voice faded in the distance.

“This is an error, Commander. You are not protected as you once were. Putting yourself in danger leading a critical battle could be worth the risk, but saving ten men...”

“It’s more than that, and you know it. But even if it wasn’t, these are my people and I won’t treat any of them as expendable,” Ky said, grabbing his gladius and sliding it into his scabbard.

Ky didn’t look back as he walked out of his tent, taking the first horse he saw, much to the surprise of the man holding it. He could hear Durus and Hesychius, two of the other lictors on Strabo’s watch, shouting as he swung up into the saddle.

Ignoring them, he gathered the reins and dug his heels into the stallion’s flanks, sending the animal racing through and out of the camp. As soon as they were out and onto the road north, Ky pushed the animal into a full gallop. It wouldn’t be able to hold this pace long, but then it wouldn’t need to.

Ky urged the stallion faster as the small village came into view up ahead. Even from a distance, he could see the angry mob surrounding the telegraph station, brandishing makeshift weapons, pounding on the barred doors and shuttered windows of the small stone building.

They were so focused on their target that they didn’t notice him until he was almost on top of them.

“Another one,” one of the villagers yelled in Phoenician.

In a flash, Ky was off his horse, sword out of its sheath. Three villagers charged him; farm tools raised high. With lightning reflexes, Ky ducked the first wild swing, his blade licking out to slice through the man’s extended wrist. A scream rang out as the axe tumbled into the mud.

Pivoting, Ky slammed his elbow into the second attacker’s face, cartilage and bone crunching wetly. As the man stumbled back clutching his ruined nose, Ky’s sword darted out again to parry an overhead blow from the third villager’s hoe. Steel sparked on the iron farming tool as Ky neatly sidestepped, his riposte opening the man’s throat in a spray of crimson.

Targeting and tactical information was flowing across his eyes as Ky fell into the motor assist, allowing the AI to lead his movements, dodging attacks before his brain could even register them.