The Wings of Mercury
Copyright© 2025 by Lumpy
Chapter 14
Carthage
It was startling to Medb every time she had been in this audience chamber just how ornate it was. She had always loved finery and the symbols that befitted her status when she was queen, but even she would have blanched at the gaudiness of these surroundings.
And yet, the governor had done everything he could to increase that lavishness. Nowhere was that more evident than the throne Cormac currently sat on. Golden with arms that resembled intricately carved fern leaves and a high back, the top of which resembled a crown, it was more of a throne than even the one used by the Empress, and definitely not the kind of thing a governor should be using.
Especially since, after looking into the province’s finances, Medb had found that it wasn’t a leftover from the excesses of the Carthaginian emperor, but something designed specifically for the governor at his request.
Just one in a long list of reasons she and Cormac were here today.
The governor usually started his day very late, a side effect of his late-night entertaining, which is why she and Cormac had come here so early. She wanted to start this off this meeting in the right way, putting the governor back on his heels. She knew she was successful as soon as the man showed up, responding to the summons Cormac had sent, requesting the governor’s presence.
Eoghan’s first steps into the room had his normal arrogant confidence, but they faltered as soon as he saw Cormac seated on ‘his’ throne, Medb at his side. Eoghan was a lot of things, but an idiot wasn’t one of them, and he got the message that Medb was sending loud and clear.
“My prince,” Eoghan said, stopping in front of the throne, clearly unbalanced by the reversal in position. “I’m ... this is a surprise.”
“Should it be, though? Considering the sheer scope of incompetence and avarice we have seen in this city, and the recent riot in one of its markets, I would have thought you might have predicted our needing to have a conversation.”
“I will admit, the riot was unfortunate and I am working hard to deal with its root causes. And of course, I am happy to entertain any questions you might have.”
“The time for questions is over, governor. We have completed our investigation into the governance of the province and have found you wanting. This is not an audience, governor. This is an accountancy for your failure.”
“I ... I don’t understand what you mean. I know there have been some problems, but...”
“To be clear, you have failed in every aspect of your duty,” Cormac said. “I’d like to just believe you are incompetent and unable to carry out your duties, because at least then you wouldn’t blacken the name of all our people, but it is clear to me that this goes beyond mere inability to do your job. Graft is rampant. For example, huge sums of tax revenue are disappearing after being collected, a problem we’ll get to in a minute, but the provisional treasury is still strained. Do you care to explain where this money has gone?”
“I assure you, there is no graft, my prince. The tax money has been used for city improvements and additional security measures.”
“I’m happy to hear how diligently you’ve been working to improve your domain. I think it should then be easy for you to provide proof of these improvements. Or even evidence of the additional security forces you’ve supposedly funded. I’ve looked at the treasury’s ledgers, but they show nothing but shortfalls and unexplained expenses.”
Eoghan shifted uncomfortably. “These projects are in progress, my prince. It takes time for such things to show results, and...”
“According to the records, you’ve been siphoning funds for these so-called projects for over a year,” Medb said. “Yet, there’s no sign of any improvement, and the only additional security has been for your personal estate. Are you telling me that you have other ledgers, perhaps, that reflect this work ... ledgers outside the official records?”
“My prince,” Eoghan said, looking at Medb but addressing Cormac. “That would be a violation of my duty. All my dealings are above board, I assure you.”
“And yet you can provide nothing to show the work you’ve done? That is confusing, governor. As is the fact that the taxes you’ve been collecting are higher than what was authorized by the Senate. What’s more, is where the taxes are going. You’ve been withholding a portion of the collected taxes for ‘special projects’ that have no clear documentation.”
“My prince, if there has been any oversight, it was not intentional. Perhaps my subordinates have misappropriated funds without my knowledge. I can only say that any additional taxes beyond what the Empire approved for me to collect were necessary and approved by local officials to ensure the city’s stability.”
“It’s interesting you should bring up the officials who helped approve these increased taxes,” Cormac said. “Our interviews have brought up a surprisingly large number of stories about some very lavish sounding parties where you happened to invite most of the city’s elite, including the very same individuals who approved these increased taxes. An interesting coincidence.”
“My prince, those gatherings were merely to foster good relations within the city. It’s essential for smooth governance. If anyone is telling you they were unnecessary or excessive, they are simply lying.”
“And I suppose the timing of these approvals and your extravagant soirées is purely coincidental?” Medb interjected.
“Absolutely. There’s no connection between the two.”
“Really? Because we’ve noticed several of these local officials have suddenly begun living far beyond their means. Their estates have expanded, their wardrobes have become more luxurious, and their influence has grown considerably. All since you began implementing these new taxes.”
That’s...” Eoghan started, but Medb cut him off.
“A coincidence as well? How convenient for you, Governor.”
“What isn’t a coincidence is that your attempts to retain control of this region have made it worse!” Cormac said. “The streets are filthy, crime is rampant, and the people are on the verge of revolt. Meanwhile, you and your cronies grow fat off the suffering of others.”
“My prince, you don’t understand the complexities...”
“I understand perfectly,” Cormac snapped. “You’ve failed in your duties, plain and simple.”
“We’ve spoken to the people, Governor,” Medb said. “They’re angry, desperate, and losing faith in Britannia’s rule. Your mismanagement threatens everything we’ve built here.”
“The situation is under control,” Eoghan protested weakly.
“Under control is not what we’ve seen. And amazingly, you have been foolish enough to take the same approach you have taken with the city itself with the praetorians entrusted to you for management of the province. The payments to the praetorians have been consistently short, so much so that they have lodged a formal complaint. And at the same time, you have been using them for activities outside of their, and your, mandate, such as intimidating local merchants, shutting down businesses that do not pay your new taxes, or don’t give enough kickbacks to your tax collectors.”
“The Praetorian Guard serves to maintain order, which is all I have asked of them. As to their payments...”
“We have spoken to some of your tax collectors and managed to convince them to give us an honest accounting of their activities. Besides confirming to us that a portion of the money that ends up back in your pocket comes from them, as part of the requirement for being allowed to shake down the populace, we have also confirmed that the tactics of punishing those that aren’t quick to pay, under the cover of law, is part of that directive to your tax collectors.”
Apparently, there was nothing the governor could say to that, or excuse he could invent to justify it, because he opted for a much more aggressive response instead. “You have no right to come here and make these accusations! This is my province to govern as I see fit!”
“No, Governor. This is the Empire’s province and one entrusted to you to govern as the Empress sees fit. Something I believe you have forgotten.”
“This ... this is all a misunderstanding. I simply...”
“I am done with your excuses. Praetorians!”
Claudius, who had been standing along the back wall of the room, along with more than the normal complement of men needed for a ceremonial post, stepped forward.
“Eoghan mac Ailill, you stand accused of graft, abuse of power, dereliction of duty, and high treason against the Britannic Empire,” Claudius said as two praetorians flanked him on either side.
The color drained from the governor’s face as the realization that he wasn’t going to be able to talk his way out of this sank in.
“This is preposterous!” Eoghan sputtered, backing away from Claudius. “You cannot do this to me! I am the governor!”
“You were the governor,” Cormac corrected. “Praetorians...”
Before Cormac could give the order, Eoghan made a sudden lunge toward the nearest exit. His attempt at flight was pathetically brief as Claudius’s men grabbed him, pulled him back, and restrained him.
“You will regret this! Both of you!” he shrieked, all pretense of dignity abandoned. “You do not know who you are dealing with!”
“Take him away,” Cormac ordered in disgust.
As the praetorians dragged Eoghan towards the door, he continued to rant. “You have made powerful enemies today! Mark my words, you will pay for this! Both of you!”
The heavy doors slammed shut behind them, cutting off Eoghan’s ranting. A weighty silence settled over the audience chamber.
Medb turned to Cormac, giving her husband a small smile. “Well, that was certainly dramatic.”
Caralis, Sardinia
Llassar had never seen himself as a diplomat, having grown up as a warrior fighting for his tribe and then Caledonia, and yet ever since becoming a Britannian, it was all he had done. If anything, it had become more so post-war, with him traveling across the continent along with a few others, negotiating treaties and partnerships with the newly formed nations, as the Consul called them.
In that time, he’d been in tiny meeting halls, open squares and massive marble structures covering the breadth of architectural styles found in those places. The most common, though, was an amphitheater. They were able to hold a lot of people and, thanks to the Carthaginians, by way of the Greeks, this structure had spread widely over most of the western world. So it was not a surprise that he was once again in one of the bowl-shaped, open-air venues to talk to the assembled leaders. In most towns, this was the largest space available, and Llassar preferred to be in a place where he had more room to move, should things turn hostile.
Which seemed likely to happen here. The Sardinians that he had met so far in setting up this meeting had been nothing short of bristly, and it turned out that those were the ones predisposed to listen to him. As important men came from the surrounding area and even distant towns, it became clear there was a hard bias against unification, and anyone who advocated for it.
He could feel the tension coming off of the assembled men in waves as he made his way down toward the center of the amphitheater.
“I thank you for convening on such short notice,” he began. “You do not know me, but I know your situation well. Not long ago, my people were like yours, scattered towns and villages that fought and argued among ourselves and our neighbors, blind to the greater threats just over the horizon. Thankfully, we listened to wiser voices in time to prevent those threats from overwhelming and destroying our people as they did so many others. Italia now stands at that crossroads, and Sardinia stands with them. Your people, Sicilia, and the mainland have been connected for generations. You share blood and coin, and each of you is stronger with the others, and weaker alone. That couldn’t be more important than it is now.”
He paused, giving that a moment to sink in. Over the years, he’d grown more comfortable doing this type of thing, and had learned, both from watching people like the Empress, who were true masters of the art, and through his own trial and error, that there was a rhythm to this type of thing that had to be followed.
“A new threat has come out of the east, and has already begun to cut deep into the continent. In Germania, where its people are unified, we have managed to stop the incursion and stand against it together. Unfortunately, not everyone in the easterners’ path has been prepared to do what they needed to do to protect themselves. Greece stood fragmented, as you are now, and the easterners have cut far into their lands, burning their cities and enslaving their people. They are on a path leading to Italia, and you along with it. Now is the time to stand up and do what you need to for your people, to ensure their future. I know you have concerns and need assurances, and I have been entrusted by Italia and the Britannic people to give those I can and to listen to what you need to make this happen.”
A portly man with a well-trimmed beard that Llassar had met briefly when he’d arrived and knew as one of the leaders of Caralis stood up from his seat near the front.
“You speak of unity, but what of our autonomy? Sardinia’s needs are not those of the mainland. Our ports, our trade routes, our very way of life - they’re unique. Why should we bind ourselves to them?”
“You raise a fair point, but are you as autonomous as you think you are? Do you truly have the breadth of natural resources to fend for yourselves? Your ports are valuable, yes, but they rely on trade. And trade relies on the stability of your neighbors and your biggest trading partners. And when you do trade with the mainland, do you want to be taxed as a fellow citizen or a foreigner? I don’t think your profit lies as closely with your autonomy as you might think.”
Llassar had never been a trader himself, but he’d come to realize over the last five years that money, more than manpower, decided the fate of nations. It wasn’t a coincidence that much more time was spent discussing economic policy and trade relations than military arrangements when drafting agreements between foreign powers.
“We’ve managed well enough since the fall of Carthage, haven’t we?”
“You have,” Llassar conceded. “But only because you’ve benefited from the protection of other powers. Italia has been subsidized by Britannia for the last five years, and we have made their policy with an eye toward stability in the region and not profit. If Italia unifies without you, do you think your relationship with the mainland will not change?”