The Plains of Pluto
Copyright© 2025 by Lumpy
Chapter 26
Camp Banwīhraz, Central Germania
Medb walked quickly toward the door to the walled prison building from her carriage. She had too much dignity to run, but the rain that had started the previous night had intensified and was coming down in thick sheets.
She was happy to be out of it, inside the brick building that was used as administration, barracks, and interrogation rooms for the large prison camp. After her first week here, she’d given up staying with the guards and had found more comfortable accommodations in a nearby village.
What she was doing took time, and she also had a standard she was used to, and she needed to be at her best for this. It was her thirty-first session with the Eastern prisoner. So far it had been mostly language lessons, with nothing beyond that learned. An important step, to be sure, but today she planned to move beyond that.
The two Britannian guards straightened as she approached.
“Lady Medb,” the taller one said. “The prisoner is inside. Been waiting about ten minutes.”
“Good. I’ll need at least two hours. No interruptions unless the camp’s being overrun.”
The guards exchanged glances, uncertain if she was joking. The room was the same one they’d been using for these sessions. Familiarity, even hostile familiarity like a prison camp, made people let down their guard.
It, and a hundred other small actions, were all designed to one end. To get the man sitting at the small table inside to talk.
Fa Jian, although for these people, the second name was their given one, and the first was their surname, sat as he always did. Comfortable but aloof at the same time, hands folded on the table.
“Again today, we speak,” Medb said, using the words in his language, which she found exceptionally difficult to master.
She set down a small basket containing a small bundle of dried meat, bread, and other additional rations that were his payment for doing these lessons, and took the seat across from him.
“Again today. More words, yes?” he asked in Latin.
After thirty-one sessions, she’d learned to read the minute shifts in his expression, the slight tightening around his eyes when he was actively engaged in something she said. The slight downturn of his mouth when he was frustrated.
The man was exceptional at controlling his features, which again spoke to his intelligence and self-control, but everyone showed something eventually.
“More words, yes. But different today. I think you understand more than you show.”
His face remained impassive, but something stirred behind his eyes.
“Small understanding,” he replied.
“No,” she said, switching to Latin. “You understand far more than you admit. You like to hide it, but you are very intelligent and understand more than you let on. You’ve been pretending to learn slowly, but you listen very closely when I talk to the guards. You’ve been watching and listening. I’m honestly impressed. I would do the same.”
Jian tilted his head slightly, reassessing her.
“What questions today?” He asked, not dropping the charade.
“First, I want to understand something I’ve observed. You avoid the high-ranking prisoners, the officers and administrators at the center of the camp who’ve secured better food and sleeping arrangements. Why?”
“Not understand.”
“I think you do understand. I have watched you for weeks. You deliberately keep your distance from them. When food is distributed, you position yourself away from them. Them, I understand. Such men are typically the same in every empire. Those who order conquests while remaining safely distant from bloodshed, and demanding tribute without labor. They impose their will on common people without suffering any consequences. I’ve known their type my whole life.”
The prisoner’s eyes narrowed fractionally.
“If I had to guess, these were the men that control your empire, just as their type once controlled mine. Perhaps we share a common disdain for such men, despite fighting on opposite sides.”
“How say ‘season change’ in your tongue?”
Medb ignored his deflection. Her instincts told her she’d struck a nerve, and thirty years of political intrigue had honed those instincts well.
“I haven’t always done this job. Before this, I was a queen of my own people, until Carthage came to my island and convinced us to fight for them. And then abandoned us. I didn’t see it at the time, but I think even in defeat, we were liberated. Freed of the yoke the Carthaginians put on everyone, friend and foe alike. I know what it means to hate those kinds of men, and I recognize the look of a man who holds such feelings hidden.”
Again, he didn’t answer, but she could see the understanding in his eyes. He was getting what she was saying.
“I’m sure you’ve figured this out, but prisoners who provide valuable intelligence receive considerations, better quarters, additional food, potential freedom. The more valuable the information, the greater the consideration. But I don’t think that’s what you want. You don’t want better rations. You have purpose beyond survival. Men like you always do.”
His eyes met hers directly now, calculated passivity momentarily set aside.
“Someone with the right information could ask for more than mere comforts,” she offered. “They could name their true desire, however ambitious.”
“What promise would person have? Words between enemies mean little,” Jian said, the sudden stilted version of Latin gone.
There were still small errors, but this was the real man, at last. At least a taste of him.
“True. But some enemies share greater enemies. Some conflicts mask opportunities. A man I know once told me, ‘the enemy of my enemy is my friend.’ Perhaps we are friends, after a fashion.”
“That kind friend is dangerous.”
“Indeed. You know, I think there are moments for some people when they see an opportunity, but fear takes hold and they let it slip away. Other people, though, they see the opportunity for what it is and do not let the fear control them. These people are the people who get things done. I think maybe you are the second type of person. For people like that, these moments create possibilities. But only if they’re willing to risk something of value in exchange.”
He didn’t say anything, but she could see he was very interested in what she was saying.
“The time for dancing around each other has ended. I need information about your empire. You need something from me. Let us speak plainly.”
Jian sat motionless, weighing his options. Outside, rain pounded against the roof.
“Ask your questions. Why have you pulled me from sleep thirty-two days in line?”
“Part of it was the language lessons. We needed to communicate to get this far, after all. But you’re right, my interest goes beyond vocabulary. I want to know about your people. We know next to nothing about you, except your homeland lies to the east.”
“It does.”
“Where?”
“The main part of our country is very far. It took weeks and weeks to get here. Many week groups. Something...”
“Months,” she offered.
“Yes. Months. It takes more than two months to get here from the capital, although the edges of the empire are only a few weeks travel.”
“It extends that far?” she asked, surprised.
“It does.”
“Show me the area your empire covers,” she said, pulling a paper out of her pocket and unfolding it, showing a hand-drawn map messaged to her by the Consul.
She had been shocked when she’d seen what the world actually looked like, not that she doubted him. But comparing the areas she did know, such as Britannia and Germania, to the parts to the east, beyond Sarmatia, she hadn’t known how vast that land could be.
“Where did you get this?” he asked, showing true surprise for the first time.
“That question is for another time. First, show me the extent of your people’s lands.”
Jian hesitated before placing his finger on the eastern coast at the far end of the land mass and then tracing a boundary that stretched all the way to Sarmatia and the far edges of Alexander’s empire. From the north of the land mass all the way to the south. They essentially controlled everything east of Anatolia, Sarmatia, and Persia.
A truly terrifying amount of land, vast beyond anything they had estimated, easily triple the lands once controlled by Carthage. Maybe even more.
“How can any single authority administer such a vast territory?” she asked, astonishment breaking through her control.
“We have many people like you. The empire is five rings? Levels? Parts may be the right word. The center part is Nei Du, the region of capital at Chang’an. It is ruled by the emperor and his people personally.”
He put his finger on a part of the map to the far east, not at the coast, but close to it. He then circled a wider area, although still much smaller than the area they controlled as a whole.
“Second part is eighteen pieces, the Zhong Zhou, where big men, I do not know the word for them in your language, but important men maintain rigid control in emperor’s name. Third part is thirty-two army sections, again not right word but close, called Bian Jun. It is where people and army combine to control the area. Those are the three main parts of empire, controlled directly by the emperor’s men. Beyond these are the ... I don’t know the word, but places ruled by men not of the emperor called Feng Guo. Although other people rule these areas, they do so with the emperor’s men at their elbows. The last part, farthest out, is the An Di. They give honor to the emperor, and money, but do not have the emperor’s men at their elbow. Although the emperor’s men are only a short time away if they do not pay with the men and gold they owe.”
The language barrier was becoming something of a problem here. She thought she understood what he meant, but there was almost certainly nuance in the system of administration that was being lost.
“There must be tensions between these farther out places and those places with the emperor’s men telling people what to do. I assume, like the Carthaginians, the things provided by these outer parts all flow into the ... you called it Nei Du.”
“Yes. All goes to the emperor. All comes from the people.”
“It must take a large army to control all of this, yes? Are they all conscripts?”
“Most yes, but not all. There are ... Qi Jun, I do not know how to explain. Soldiers trained to be soldiers, yes?”
“Professionals.”