Chapter 14

Londinium

Carus made his final round of the three warehouses his men were allocated between, his impatience growing, carrying a crate that he’d been moving from warehouse to warehouse, giving him an excuse to check on his men. The last of the men he had been expecting had shown up two days ago, which should have meant they were ready to launch the assault. And yet, there had been no word from the Consul or anyone else since the last soldier came through.

The senior legionnaire had known they were the last group to come through and passed the word to Carus that he had all the soldiers he was going to get. Carus understood not sending a note with instructions on what would happen next. It wasn’t worth taking the risk of the soldier carrying that information being caught, so he was glad the Consul hadn’t made that mistake. He knew Ky had something up his sleeve to let him know what to do next, but he had no idea what that would be, he just wished it would happen soon.

He was almost to the warehouse close to the docks when Marius showed up looking ... puzzled.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, since the fishing boat captain was heading directly towards him, with that strange look on his face.

“I ... something happened on my boat.”

“What? Was one of the guards...”

“No, nothing like that. There was a voice, or something, coming from the ship. I was the only one on board and I checked everywhere but couldn’t find anyone. It almost sounded like it was coming from below, but there wasn’t anything in the hold and the water line was clear.”

“It could have been someone hiding underwater.”

“I don’t think so. The voice wasn’t ... human. It was like a demon, or something, was speaking, and it was saying your name.”

“Show me,” Carus said, already walking toward the dock, forcing the captain to catch up.

Once at the boat, the captain refused to go on board. He stayed at the end of the dock, as far from his boat as he could get while still being able to see it, while Carus continued on. Nothing looked amiss at first glance, although he thought he could occasionally hear a slight hum in between the sounds of water lapping against the hull.

Giving one last pass over the deck, Carus headed into the hold beneath where the rowers sat and where the soldiers had stored their armor during the trip into the city. As soon as he was below deck, cutting some of the sounds of water, he could hear the hum, which sounded like it had gotten louder.

“Hello,” he said out loud when nothing or no one jumped out at him.

After a beat, there was movement at the end of the hold, coming out from behind some barrels. He recognized it. It was the small disk with a glowing circle underneath that reflected off the floor. It was thin, almost like a plate. He’d watched the Consul throw it in the air several times, although neither he nor his fellow lictore had asked what it was. He’d just assumed it was one of Ky’s magical tools, like the weapon he carried that melted stone.

“Kaeso Vedius Carus. Do not be alarmed. I have a message from the Consul.”

“Are you alive?”

It probably wasn’t important and any message, delivered at this moment, was probably about the upcoming attack and important, but he couldn’t help it. The voice came from the device but seemed to resonate from all around it.

“That is a difficult question, but the device in front of you is just a tool that I am speaking through. It has no communication receiver, so the Consul isn’t able to speak to you directly. I was able to adapt the telemetry system to interface with the onboard broadcast speaker normally used for playing recorded messages to speak with you.”

None of those words meant anything to Carus, but he got the gist. The thing said he wasn’t in this disc, and it was just a tool, which he understood, at least. Something, although not the Consul, was speaking through this thing and could apparently hear him, although the metallic voice was like nothing he’d ever experienced, sending chills down his spine.

“You have a message from the Consul?”

“The city defenders have settled into a routine. Although the men on the north wall rotate out for meals to keep the wall fully manned, the other walls, including the west gate, are undermanned enough that for meals, they have to take men away from the gate to eat. They also have no kitchen facilities near the gate, except for a house commandeered nearby for their use. Although officers go to that house for meals, the conscripted soldiers must walk around to the center of the north wall where the other conscripted soldiers are forced to take their meals. When they do this, the force at and near the west gate falls to approximately two-dozen soldiers. They are almost entirely conscripts, poorly trained, and likely to flee at the sight of trained soldiers.”

“So the Consul wants us to attack the west gate?”

“Correct. The north wall is a more defensible position, the assault of which would lead to extensive casualties. The Consul has been staging the lines to make it appear as if the attack will come against the north wall, which the Carthaginians seem to believe, as they have been shifting their better-trained soldiers almost entirely there, weakening the other walls and leaving mostly conscripts and junior officers to defend them. The Consul believes this will be a less costly target for our attack. His orders are for you to take your men at the appointed time, march quickly up the main thoroughfare and assault the gate, raising it and forming a defensive perimeter to ensure it remains clear long enough for the troops he has massing on the west side to cross the ground and attack the city.”

“How will I know it’s mealtime?”

“This drone has to return to recharge, but the Consul will send it back to the largest warehouse where you normally sleep. Using the telemetry circuits like this puts more power through the system than it is rated for and shortens its lifespan, so there will be no audio confirmation. Instead, look to the north rafter, which is blocked off from view except at the extreme south end of the building. I will flash the guide light three times in quick succession, which is the signal that it will be time to march out. Have your men armored by first light, so they are prepared. It is critical you move quickly up the main thoroughfare and get to the gate before they can get troops to you, as it is unlikely you will make it the entire way before someone raises the alarm. They will not be able to form full phalanxes in the limited space of the streets around the gate, which should give your men an advantage.”

“I understand, and I’ll be watching.”

Ériunia, Northern Connacht

It took the better part of a day to round up the soldiers and get the wounded on wagons back to the temporary fort his men had built on the coast, where his messengers could cross back to Britannia and they could receive supplies. Now that he was completely out of Ulaid territory, he had to use a significant portion of his cavalry to secure his supply lines, which was going to deprive him of their use in the next battle, but there wasn’t much choice in the matter. One of Ky’s early pronouncements was that they not strip the countryside bare as they marched through, instead paying for what they needed as they went.

Velius understood the concept. They were trying to free these areas and they needed the locals to support them, joining the ranks as soldiers or, at a minimum, providing intel on the Carthaginian movements. It would be hard to convince people to switch allegiances if you were taking everything they needed to survive. So far, it had been working, but it did make their foraging significantly harder and increased the importance of the supply lines.

They were finally on the move again, or had been until they stopped to dig out temporary headquarters, a precaution he had his men take every night when in hostile territory. It ate up a significant amount of time and the men grumbled every evening when they stacked shields and picked up shovels, but he’d seen what happened to legions that failed to protect themselves. It also allowed a small force to man the temporary barricades, letting the bulk of the men sleep through the night, which meant he had a better-rested force each morning for sustained marches and, more importantly, fighting.

He had just finished riding the fortifications that enclosed the three legions when a commotion near the temporary front gate drew his attention. The guards didn’t sound the alarm, and as he rode closer he could see the banners of the Ulaid and the standards of their king, and sighed. Although they’d crushed the leading Carthaginian army, they still had a lot of work ahead of them to clear the island of hostiles. Most of the Carthaginian allies still had fully intact armies and the Carthaginians still had a fair amount of troops themselves, all of which had to be dealt with before Velius could take his army home. True, none of them could match the size of the last two armies sent against Rome, but they still outnumbered his three legions.

He had better equipment and better tactics, but that didn’t make them invulnerable. Rushing in like they were unbeatable was a good way to get routed, and he had a bad feeling that was what his new allies were going to push for. Being a legate was as much about politics as it was fighting, especially in the Roman military prior to Ky’s reforms. Politicians, even kings and emperors, always wanted things faster, so they could show their success. They often had little patience for war by strategy and movement, wanting only battles and victory. If he could achieve a victory by maneuvering his men into positions that forced the enemy into surrendering without losing a man; he’d take that over a battle, any day.

Still, politics were what they were, and he had to keep relations with their new allies on a good footing. Ky’s ultimate goal was to bring the Ulaid into the alliance, adding their manpower and natural resources to the Empire, hopefully giving them a strong enough base to stop fighting defensively and take the war to the Carthaginians. That meant Prime Legate Amulius Tettius Velius had to play nice.

“Your majesty,” Velius said, as he pulled up in front of the procession. “Welcome to our camp. I’m sorry about the lack of a proper reception. Had we known you were coming...”

He spoke slowly, the language of the Ulaid finding its way into his mouth with some difficulty. Although it was very similar to the language spoken by the Caledonians, which he was still working hard to learn and was far from being fluent in, there were enough differences that he was finding it difficult to learn.

“Nonsense,” the king said, interrupting him, sounding a lot more convivial than he did the last time Velius stood in front of him. “I just wanted to see the men that won such a great victory. You told me you would defeat our enemies and end the threat to my people, and you did that in a spectacular fashion. If my observers with your army are correct, you absolutely crushed the rebels and have chased all of them off of Ulaid land.”