Chapter 10

Factorium

Lucilla’s carriage rattled down the cobbled road, the rhythmic clopping of the horses’ hooves filling the air. The newly added stones were a step above the worn down and pitted dirt track, but it was still anything but smooth. A bright side was that the jostling kept her from dwelling on a growing list of pressures that were building on her. She didn’t know if her father had felt these things when he was alone, the worry and fear of not living up to his responsibilities and allowing his people to come to ruin.

Most of the time, she was able to avoid her uneasiness and those darker thoughts by continuous forward movement. It was the one upside of being Empress. She stayed so busy that she didn’t have time to dwell. It was moments like this, where she had several hours to herself, away from courtiers and petitioners, that were the problem. She had too much time with her own thoughts.

Ky was so busy, out with their new allies, directing their hit-and-run tactics, that he didn’t have time to talk to her, to keep her distracted from herself. Worse, he’d become something else for her to fret over as he kept putting himself in life-and-death situations like the almost fatal raid Sophus had told her about. Instead of a balm, he’d become another worry. Which is why, for once, she didn’t mind being thrown around in the carriage, having to brace herself for most of the ride. It was a welcome distraction.

The carriage didn’t take long to arrive at Factorium. The message she’d received from Hortensius had a sense of urgency behind it, asking for a meeting as soon as she could manage it. Considering all of the projects he had going and the continued pressure on gunpowder production that was causing so many problems, she had made this her priority.

Oddly, Sorantius was the one waiting for her outside of Hortensius’s factory, instead of the manufacturer himself. They usually met at Hortensius’s place simply because he had a larger office with enough room for the three of them. Sorantius, for whatever reason, preferred his office to be almost cave-like and had requested it to be designed that way when they’d built his factory.

“Your Majesty,” Sorantius said with a cursory bow. “Hortensius is already inside.”

She nodded, following him through the heavy iron doors into the vast complex. All around them, workbenches were strewn with intricate mechanical parts and half-finished contraptions. The air smelled of oil and burning coal. She’d given firm instructions, long ago, that when she was there she didn’t want any of the workers or artificers to stop what they were doing to bow or give any of the traditional displays of respect and deference to her. It had taken time to convince the workers she was serious, but over her many trips, they had finally started taking it seriously. Other than a side glance or whispered word to another worker, everyone kept doing what they were doing, ignoring her presence.

They found Hortensius in his office, furiously scribbling notes and muttering to himself. He sprang to his feet when Lucilla entered.

“Ah, Your Majesty,” he exclaimed. “Please, do come in.”

Lucilla settled herself into a chair across from him and said, “Your message sounded urgent. What can I do for you?”

Hortensius leaned forward, his expression grave. “Yes, yes. First, though, I can report that the viscose rayon tests went exceptionally well. The fabric holds air and provides the strength we need for the balloons and seems strong enough when blended with the wool to be usable. I’m not sure I’d want to use it if the other side had weapons with the range of our rifles, but in this environment, it is more than acceptable.”

“That is welcome news,” Lucilla said.

She still didn’t quite understand what Sophus and Ky wanted them for. They’d explained to her the advantages of them and how they differed from using mounted scouts, and she did know how useful Ky’s drone was during battle, but that she could see right away. Any messages from the balloon would have to be sent down, received on the ground, and a messenger sent with the information. Which added a delay that didn’t exist with his drone. Still, both felt it would help them, and she was willing to make anything work that might keep Ky a little safer.

Which is why it was good news that the replacement material was working as they’d hoped. Ky had sounded dubious that the new material would be strong enough to be a workable substitute even after they’d started working on the project.

“However,” Hortensius continued, “to produce the quantities required for an entire fleet of balloons, substantial expansion of my facilities is needed. Specifically, this will be a major textile operation, with large warehouses for raw materials, rows of spinning and weaving machines, and facilities for washing and coating the fabrics in this waterproofing mixture with room to dry it afterward. What we have here now is a very small operation, geared towards more traditional styles of textile production, which we will retain to continue producing materials for clothing and the like for the legions. Which means what I’m asking for is an entirely new facility.”

“In addition,” Sorantius added, “this process consumes a large amount of the acids we’ve been producing, which means I will need to expand my facility to make room for the vats and piping for that. We’ll also need to move the pulping factory in Devnum, which has mostly been producing pulp for making paper, here so we can expand it and convert it from water to steam power, which is yet another facility we’ll need to build.”

“Our concern,” Hortensius continued, picking the explanation back up from Sorantius, “is that we do not have the labor here to build these facilities or to staff them once they are finished. This is a very large expansion of our works, and we were told by Lurio, the last time we sent a request for manpower, that there was no more to be had. Which is why we contacted you. We could make the materials needed using our existing factories, but that will delay and slow down production in other areas, as we’d have to divert manpower and factory space from those other projects to this one.”

Lucilla found herself nodding slowly as she listened. She wasn’t surprised by the request. Manpower was the one thing every area of the Empire needed more of and the thing they had the least of. It was a regular topic of conversation in every meeting she had, regardless of the industry or the work being discussed.

“I see,” she said, thinking. “I agree you need new facilities. Nearly everything you two are working on is critical, and the goal is to add to what we are producing, not take away from those areas. We can’t let any of your other projects fall behind just because you’re given a new project to work on. The problem is, I recently allocated additional workers to assist Admiral Valdar in preparing his fleet for the upcoming naval expedition and to expand the gunpowder production, of which we’ve been having significant shortfalls. This means there isn’t much in the way of labor to be had.”

She rose and paced the room, pulling gently on her lower lip as she thought.

“I’m not sure where we’re going to find what you need. I’ve robbed and begged manpower to the point where the entire Empire is stretched thin. The armies are asking daily about their reinforcements, especially Velius, who is well outnumbered in Hispania. Valdar is pushing hard to get his expedition to the Middle Sea to support them, and we still have hundreds of vital building projects in Rome alone, which is the least of the construction needed. Ulaid has not yet rebuilt from all the damage the Carthaginians did there, and the kingdoms that it absorbed were nearly destroyed in the process. They need magnitudes more men for rebuilding than we do here, which is already putting a strain on us.”

“I may be able to postpone some of the less critical projects and redirect that labor force here temporarily,” Hortensius suggested tentatively. “It’s not ideal, but it could get us started on the initial phases.”

“No,” Lucilla said, stopping her pacing. “None of your projects are less crucial. Even the ones that seem like it, such as the production of civilian equipment like the heavy plows, are crucial. We need that to increase food and the like. We are shipping a lot of it to our new allies as part of our bargain with them. And what is being bought and traded by merchants is bringing in tax revenues we desperately need to pay for all of this. None of your operations are less critical, and we don’t have room for you to postpone anything.”

“We could implement longer work shifts,” Sorantius offered. “Have the men put in extra hours each day. I know it’s dangerous with the hazardous materials we work with, but desperation may demand some calculated risks.”

“No,” Lucilla said firmly. “I understand the impulse, but we can’t afford to start losing our trained manpower to accidents caused by exhaustion. Pushing them harder will only lead to more mistakes, injuries, and deaths, which will set us back further. The worst thing we could do is make rash decisions that lead to a disaster that makes things worse.”

Lucilla frowned as she turned to face them. “For now, I will reach out quietly to see what I can shift here without causing turmoil elsewhere. Maybe I can scrape some bodies from less vital projects.”

It was more pressure she was taking on herself, but she needed these two men focused on the tasks at hand. Clearly, it had been weighing on them, because the pair exchanged relieved glances at having the responsibility taken from them.

“You’re not off the hook that easily,” she said. “Keep working on ideas to increase our labor pool. That’s the real solution. We need more able workers, not just overworked ones. You are the two smartest men in the entire Empire, and I’m counting on you to help me solve this problem.”

“We’ll figure out something, your majesty,” Hortensius said.

“I know you will,” she said, not sure if she was trying to reassure them, or herself.

Northern Germania

A scream sounded out, a little louder than the other cries of desperation and pain, before suddenly being silenced forever. General Matho, assigned the duty of pacifying the tribesmen rebelling against the emperor and pushing the Roman army helping them back into the sea, sat passively on his horse, watching the carnage. Around him, soldiers were dragging villagers from their homes, cutting most of them down without mercy then and there. The few that weren’t slaughtered right away had a worse fate in store for them as his men vented their frustrations and anger on the unlucky few before making their tribute to Hexitas.

Thatched roofs were burning, some collapsing into the houses creating a massive bonfire, filling the air with dark smoke. The houses that weren’t burning, yet, would be as soon as his men went through them, looting anything that might be valuable.

He felt no pity or remorse for what he had to do. This is what happened to people who aided the rebels in raiding his supply lines and even an entire supply base. The loss of that supply depot was a hard blow, one he intended to repay tenfold. These peasants chose their fate when they provided aid to the invading Britannian forces. Their public punishment would serve as a warning to any who dared assist the enemy.