The Clouds of Caelus
Copyright© 2026 by Lumpy
Chapter 1
Greece
Ky stood outside his command tent, to the world looking like he was staring into the dying light as night set in. In reality, he had a dozen semi-transparent documents layered across his vision, going through solutions to Hortensius’s latest problem, supply routes, snapshots of the latest front lines and enemy estimates, and a dozen other matters that needed his attention, organizing everything he would need to write out tonight to be messengered to whoever needed advice, orders, or instruction.
It was interesting to be in the field again. They had moved so quickly, constantly pushing the enemy, that no one had a moment to dig new trenches. The line that had been nearly consistent, torn into the earth for a year, was mobile again. It was moves and counter moves as the enemy tried to avoid direct confrontation while they worked on a solution to the sheer volume of fire the Britannians could lay down and tried to pick off weaker units they could overwhelm with their numbers.
What that meant was they’d pushed well into Greece, heading toward Pharsalus in the heart of Thessaly, which could take one of the new players off the board, easing their push north through Greece until their line was able to join into the Sarmatia line, instead of the bulge that Greece had become.
“Commander,” Sophus intoned, pulling the documents from his vision, allowing him to see Modius walking through the camp toward him.
“Modius,” Ky said, standing. “Sorry to pull you away.”
“I am always at your command, Consul,” the older man said, standing.
“I appreciate that. I just wanted to ask how that new batch of recruits from Italia are doing and if you’ve integrated them yet? I had a report of their arrival two days ago but as of this afternoon, they were still being held in the rear and weren’t moving up as we advance. We should be making our assault on Thessaly within the next two weeks and we are going to need them in the line.”
“Yes, Consul. We’ve been working through the preliminary assessments...”
“I know that’s the procedure we had when reforming the legions back in Britain last year, but that’s too slow for in the field. We have the enemy on their heels, and time is of the essence.”
“Understood, Consul. The delay has been in establishing proper squad integration. Many of these recruits have never worked with our lever-action rifles.”
“Then get them working with them. I don’t care if they sleep with those rifles. In two weeks, they march east.”
“Yes, Consul. I’ll see to it personally.”
“Every recruit. Every rifle. Every formation. Two weeks, Modius.”
“Understood completely, Consul.”
“You’re doing a good job. Just keep your eye on the goal ahead of us. Dismissed.”
Modius saluted and turned away, although Ky thought he could see a little slouch in the man’s shoulders from the rebuke. He’d tried to soften the blow, but this was not the first time the two had needed to talk about urgency.
“He’s a good man, Ky,” Lucilla’s voice said in his ear.
“I know he is, but it’s been a long time since he commanded anything larger than a squad. And now he’s leading three legions across half of Greece. This is not the time for learning curves. Not when we finally have momentum.”
“Men can only be pushed so hard, Ky. It can take a little time.”
“Time is not something we have a lot of. We have the advantage now, but if the Easterners hold to form, they’ll eventually copy our new rifles. We need to make the most of this advantage while we can and push as close to the Black Sea as possible before the balance shifts back in their favor.”
“I know, and you will,” Lucilla said.
“Ever the optimist. How are things on your end?”
“Fine. More meetings with the Scandi tomorrow morning.”
“I thought those details were worked out,” Ky said, a little confused.
“They are, but there are still ruffled feathers about the embargos that need smoothing over. Now that they’re in the alliance, it’s time to switch from pressure to placating.”
“This is why I leave the politics to you.
“Yes, well, threatening people into compliance is simpler than keeping them happy afterward,” she said with a small laugh.
“Much simpler.”
“This far north, I’m out of touch with anything but reports from Bomilcar and the training camps in Germania. How is everything else progressing?”
“On pace,” Ky replied. “Valdar’s second has begun establishing that new port at the tip of Africa while he and Aelius push the Egyptians south and bottle them up. I have not heard anything since he took Alexandria, however. More importantly, Medb continues to make headway with the Eastern informant. Her last message indicated she might have an idea of how to take the fight to the Easterners’ homeland much sooner than we could get there with our forces. But we’ll see.”
“She is a clever one. If anyone could do it, it would be her. I’m glad we finally got her on our side.”
“I am, too. But I am also not putting all of my eggs in one basket, as it were. It’s why I pushed Modius so hard. Pushed on enough fronts and the Eastern war machine will fall apart.”
“I know, but still...” she said, and then paused as voices in the distance began saying something the comms didn’t pick up. “Sorry, duty calls. Try not to terrorize any more of your officers today.”
“No promises.”
“I’ll speak with you this evening.”
The line clicked shut as Sophus muted it for her. They left the comms on and he could access it if needed or Sophus detected a problem, but she’d never been able to grasp the ability to process multiple conversations simultaneously.
Or so she said. Ky had a suspicion that she didn’t like it when he listened in on her conversations and would rather present things to him instead. She was ever the consummate politician, managing the flow of expectations and information.
It didn’t bother Ky. He knew she’d tell him what was important to know, and besides, there was still much for him to do.
Nile River, North of Cairo
“Signal the flotilla,” Valdar commanded. “Battle formation, two hundred yards spacing.”
Two other times they had made this push down the Nile trying to take this last fort. Of the overlapping sets of forts guarding the river, they’d defeated all but this one at a crook in the river. This one had proved to be stubborn.
The flag signals went up, and one by one, the ironclad vessels adjusted their positions, spreading across the width of the river to make themselves less of a collective target for the fort.
This time, at least, they didn’t come alone. They’d been able to pound the other forts into submission, but this one would also have forces on the ground. Aelius’s legions were moving into position. Just over nine hundred men of the ninth legion, a little understrength, as most of the legions were at the moment.
“Range to target?” Valdar asked.
“Eight hundred yards, Admiral,” his gunnery officer replied.
Close enough. The river-facing wall showed recent repairs, darker stone patching older sections. Gun ports lined the upper levels, bronze cannon barrels protruding. The main gates faced north, toward Aelius’s approaching forces.
“Run out the guns. Load with impact shells.”
The deck vibrated beneath his feet as the gun crews went to work. Valdar checked the flag signals from Aelius’s position. The legions were nearly in place, spread across a front half a mile wide. Time to begin.
“All ships, commence firing. Target the lower battlements first.”
Those would be the ones the infantry would have to deal with in a moment.
The ironclad’s starboard battery erupted, eight cannons fired in sequence. Smoke rolled across the water as shells arced toward the fort. The first impacts sent stone fragments cascading from the walls. More guns joined in as the rest of the flotilla opened fire, creating a rolling thunder.
Through his spyglass, Valdar watched Egyptian soldiers scrambling along the battlements. Some dove for cover as shells burst overhead. Others ran toward their own cannon positions. A section of crenellations collapsed, tumbling into the river below.