The Emperor's Men 8

by Dirk van den Boom

  “Certainly not. But Inugami’s vision is contagious, that’s true.”

  “So you don’t share this vision?”

  Aritomo didn’t hesitate to answer. He had prepared for this conversation, and knew what to say. “I want to do everything possible to ensure the safety and well-being of my crew, their survival in a strange world. But I don’t think I have to forcefully submit this world to my will and dreams. Inugami disagrees.”

  “How far will you follow him?”

  Aritomo smiled and nodded. “That is the central question, isn’t it? But you consider me to be more than I am. What will happen if I openly oppose my leader? How many of my crew are ready to join me? What consequences can I expect?”

  Chitam looked at Aritomo inquiringly, he seemed to understand what the man was getting at. “You are not alone, but by no means in the majority.”

  “That’s the way it is. If I stand against Inugami, I am a dead man or at least a prisoner. And if I have allies, the same fate will happen to them.”

  Chitam seemed to understand but still didn’t want to see it. “Your commander set my palace on fire.”

  Aritomo said nothing. He was listening.

  Chitam spoke softly, but with strong emotion in his words, insistently, almost conjuring. He described the conversation again in detail that he had had with Balkun as if the constant repetition had to provoke a guilty conscience. “Your horror was limited when we first had this conversation, and I can see that little has changed,” the king said dryly – and possibly a little hurt if one listened carefully.

  “I’ve been thinking about it for a long time.”

  “What conclusions did you come to about my wife’s death?”

  “I’m afraid my commander ordered this assassination too.”

  Chitam grimaced, as if complaining that Aritomo was only now beginning to think of this. “You were not informed.”

  “I have not been informed until today. I’ve drawn my own conclusions.”

  Chitam looked at Aritomo as if by looking at the sweaty moon-like face he could find out if he was telling the truth. He gave it up after a few moments and stared at the construction again. “So what do you think, Aritomo?”

  “I already said that. To openly oppose Inugami would not stop the catastrophe and would do little. But if I remain his deputy and if he continues to entrust me with important tasks, I will be able to … limit the bad effects of his actions.”

  Chitam uttered a sound that Aritomo did not know whether it was a word or not. “My wife’s death was not bad enough?”

  There was bitterness again, an accusation and hurt in Chitam’s voice. But the Japanese did not let himself be disturbed. “It was a tragedy. Had I known about these plans, I would have done anything to stop Inugami from doing so. And my commander knew that too – that’s why he didn’t let me in on it.”

  Chitam nodded. “I suppose so. So you will remain to work as his right hand.”

  “I don’t see any alternative at the moment. Do you have one?”

  “Yes.”

  Aritomo fell silent, waited, but it didn’t look like Chitam wanted to reveal much more. In fact, the Japanese already suspected that this was the case. The king’s long and intensive discussions with the envoy from Teotihuacán had by no means escaped him. Sawada had also told him about his encounter with Inocoyotl. Neither of them could assess the importance of the city the emissary represented. But if he believed what was heard, it was the regional superpower. It would not surprise him if Chitam, who traced his line back to conquerors from that metropolis, asked them for help. And if Chitam came up with this idea, then maybe other Mayan kings would as well. Aritomo had been intensively introduced to the political landscape. He still didn’t understand all of the relationships, but the likelihood that Mutal’s opponents would stand by and watch Inugami’s expansion for much longer was extremely slim. With Chitam they would have a valuable ally, with Teotihuacán the leading military power at their side, and with him, Aritomo, a very important insider.

  “I have to emphasize one thing again,” Aritomo said softly. “I’m concerned with the safety of my people, whether they’re blinded by Inugami or not. I will always stand up for any alternative that promises more security.”

  “You are indulging in a dangerous illusion,” Chitam said now. “As the best-protected personality of the powerful Mutal, I was able to experience for myself that security is an idea that we like to calm down ourselves with but which can prove to be a very fleeting blessing.”

  Aritomo couldn’t argue with him.

  “But you have to weigh alternatives, just like me. Nevertheless, the day will come when I will remind you of this conversation, Aritomo Hara. Then you may have to make a decision that you’re currently afraid of. I don’t see a way to please everyone. This war is not a game. Everyone will have to choose one side one time.”

  Chitam leaned over to Aritomo’s ear and began to whisper. “If you choose the side that fights Inugami, I can do nothing more than promise to do everything I can for the life and well-being of your people, regardless of how each individual decides. I swear on it with my blood. I have the impression that this is more than Inugami himself would be prepared to swear by.”

  Then the king took one last look at the construction site, beckoned to his guards and servants who had been waiting at a respectful distance, and started to move with them. Aritomo stayed behind, deep in thought.

  The king’s last sentence aroused doubts that had previously been hidden deep within. He had become less and less certain of his loyalty to the captain, sure, and that had caused him problems because it contradicted his oath and upbringing. But Chitam had pointed out a question he had not yet asked himself: what was Inugami’s loyalty to his own people? What or who was he willing to sacrifice for his plans?

  The fact that he did not know a clear and unambiguous answer worried Aritomo Hara more than he wanted to admit.

  Much more.

  23

  “Land, without a doubt!”

  Langenhagen lowered the telescope and nodded. He looked satisfied. As much as he loved the sea, it was a good thing to finally arrive. This is where his real work began.

  “Our position is clear. If we interpret the nautical charts of the time-wanderers correctly, we have the northeastern tip of the Yucatan Peninsula in front of us. It is very likely that there are ports here at this time as well – we should see the first ones soon.”

  Langenhagen nodded to Köhler. It was obvious to him that he was happy. The long and exhausting crossing came to an end. As exhausting as the time had been so far, the sea voyage offered a certain monotony in its eternally identical procedures. But now the purpose of the expedition became tangible and the anticipation was palpable with all crew-members.

  “We stay far out of the coastline. I want to avoid entering a port immediately. Our defense position must be secured. I want to go to one of the islands along the coast first so that we can build a supply base there. Maybe we can also find out from there what the political situation on the mainland looks like.”

  “If we can somehow talk to the locals,” added Köhler. Indeed, that would be the biggest problem. To this end, they brought with them a master of the Ravenna Academy, who distinguished himself primarily by speaking and understanding seven languages fluently. He was even one of the few who still inherited the legacy of the time-wanderer-languages. There had been some effort to preserve both modern German and English, but everyone had to admit that ultimately this was reserved for only a few experts. The master belonged to this select group.

  That would in no way enable the elderly gentleman, who had spent most of the journey below deck sick, to speak to the locals immediately. There was hope, however, that he would be able to learn the basics of the language quickly if they found someone who was willing to teach them. Above all, he should quickly create rec
ords, a dictionary, a grammar, a basis for many more people to learn the new language as quickly as possible. In any case, everyone had to learn and fast.

  “What about Cozumel? The island is conveniently located.” Langenhagen pointed to the folded map, the relevant section of which was visible.

  “It is the area we are currently observing,” Köhler said. “I think it will be inhabited because it is easy to reach from the mainland even with simple boats if the weather is fair. However, if we find a landing site on the side opposite the mainland, we should use it. We don’t know anything about the inhabitants here, except that they were called Maya at the time of the time-wanderers. But they are probably not great sailors. If they only do coastal fishing and trading, there shouldn’t be a major settlement on the sea side of the island, apart maybe from a fishing village.”

  The commander nodded slowly. “Well. A base here could help us. Even if the residents react aggressively, there cannot be that many, and military operations would certainly be very difficult for them, especially against our weapons. We’ll take a closer look at the matter. I want four observers with telescopes on each ship. I want the cartographers to take action and compare the coastlines with the nautical charts. We start working immediately, including the measurements. There’s no reason to put it off any longer.”

  “Yes, Navarch,” Köhler confirmed the order.

  “For now we’re keeping our distance. I don’t want to be noticed early by an adventurous paddler. As soon as we have identified a suitable landing site from afar, we will move closer – but not before.”

  “I’m sending the command to the other ships.”

  Since the shortwave transmitter was functioning again to some extent, communication between the units of the flotilla was restored, even if there was no direct visual contact. They had even received reports from Rome, though not always in full, and had sent their own short reports back, often repeated several times, in the hope that the fragments could be used to compile a complete text. The Morse code, which they had taken over from the time-wanderers, was well suited for this and Langenhagen knew that there were well-trained experts in the receiving station of the fleet, which had been set up especially for the three expeditions in all directions of the world. The long break, during which they had been unable to communicate due to the storm and its aftermath, had certainly been a great test of uncertainty for those who stayed at home. It was a relief to be able to report on the progress of the mission again.

  A few minutes later, Köhler observed how the observers took up positions on the masts and on the bow, and the cartographer of the ship, loaded with paper and writing utensils, joined them. Everyone began to focus immediately on the distant coastline, and the artist himself used a telescope to search for distinctive formations that he could compare with the entries on his map. They had noticed long ago that the maps of the future needed to be corrected, because the coastlines had changed over the centuries, be it due to natural influences or human intervention. In the Mediterranean, where the construction of canals and harbors had had a visible impact, adapting the maps had been a major challenge that had lasted almost a decade. Köhler was excited to see how big the deviations were in the case of America.

  And it was good that now, at that moment, they could start the serious work.

  The ships turned. Your broadside now pointed to the distant coastline. The country’s residents were unlikely to have optical instruments that enabled them to locate the arriving visitors. But there were always people with particularly sharp eyes, and caution would be required before the coastline was fully understood.

  Köhler went below deck.

  There, the crew members, who were trained as carpenters and builders, were already busy getting the tools of their work out of the boxes. They would be among the second group to go ashore after the soldiers, and if the general conditions turned out to be favorable, trees would be felled immediately and construction of the base started. There were pre-made plans to stick to, depending on the building materials available. The men would be ready, Köhler convinced himself after a short inspection. There was a sense of optimism everywhere, the great joy of the beginning adventure, the willingness to take the step into the unknown.

  The marines had also gathered under the foredeck and began to subject their weapons to a final inspection. Centurion Angelicus was the commanding officer of the small force, not just the men of the Gratianus, but the whole expedition. Angelicus had served both on land and on water for many years, a veteran of the war against the Huns. At almost forty, he was one of the oldest men on board, apart from a few scientists. He was known for his courage and complete disregard for other people’s lives and sufferings, and that was often helpful in a combat situation. Nevertheless, neither Langenhagen nor Köhler would send him alone without someone who was willing to ask first and fight second. Despite his beautiful name, Angelicus was not a man of diplomacy and leniency. Everyone was initially a potential threat and treated as such. He was someone who was ready at any time to go over dead bodies to achieve a goal, and had no problem in calculating the deaths of his own men. His tactical understanding and personal courage distinguished him, but there was a reason why he had never become more than a centurion.

  Köhler nodded briefly to the massive man when he looked at him questioningly. He didn’t want to disturb. Nobody voluntarily bothered Angelicus in his actions if one valued human dignity or front teeth.

  Everyone was ready for the big day of landing. Köhler could feel it. There were no more arguments, no more frustrated faces. Everywhere the duties were fulfilled with tension and anticipation, even with dedication. Everyone whose tasks had to do with the landing doubled their efforts, so it wasn’t up to him if there was to be a delay. For many, this was the reason why they went to sea – to get to places where no Roman had ever been before, to do a pioneering work, and, without a doubt, to achieve eternal glory. Köhler, who had a somewhat more prosaic view of things, could still not completely free himself from this feeling. He hid it behind the mask of professional serenity, but in his spare minutes, too, found himself reviewing his personal gear, making the first steps on strange shores in his mind’s eye. A sandy beach, possibly, never-before-seen plants, animals whose shape was new, probably just as much as their taste, and then, of course, Terzia’s calves as they waded through the shallow water …

  At that point, Köhler generally ended his fantasies, because they seemed inappropriate to him. What this woman did with his imagination had long left the area of morally acceptable enthusiasm and was increasingly moving into areas where sweaty skin and rubbing it together played a prominent role.

  That would only distract him now. And despite all the friendly flirting, he was by no means clear about his chances. In addition, he was not allowed to use his privileges as a member of the ship’s command. There were only a few women on board. Everyone had been instructed to maintain the highest level of discipline.

  Trierarch Köhler also fell under the category “everyone.” He did well to remember this simple fact, as difficult as it was sometimes.

  It took a few days to sail the coastline of the island from a reasonable distance until they found a suitable landing site. It was a wonderful sandy beach, as Köhler imagined, and the water was deep enough to get relatively close to it. Building a wooden pier would not be a big job, and the men on board were well trained for that, too. In addition, there was no settlement far and wide, no ship had been seen, no village, no soul on the beach. It was likely to be different inside the island, but once they set up their base, it wouldn’t matter. The contact was inevitable. But if they did it on the basis of an established base, it might be easier.

  Köhler himself entered the first of the three rowboats that would bring a group ashore. After a few maneuvers, the flotilla had anchored around 200 meters off the coastline, lined up like a string, the broad sides of the cannon rows facing both sea and land. T
he three large boats each held 20 people, and besides Köhler there were only soldiers under the command of Angelicus who would make the first step.

  Security came first. They would go inland, not far, but far enough to identify any immediate danger.

  No sooner had the sailors pushed the boat away from the Gratianus than the men lay down on their straps. Köhler sat next to the man holding the rudder and watched the beach getting closer. They were all fully equipped for a fight.

  But there was no one to be seen.

  The officer felt relief.

  He wasn’t here to fight. Angelicus might see it differently, but Köhler was fully aware of it. He might be a soldier, but here he was a researcher and felt that way.

  Finally they reached the sandy beach. It was immaculate white. When the men pulled up the boat and piled ashore, they watched the nearby row of trees that marked the beginning of a relatively dense forest.

  “Building materials,” Angelicus said with satisfaction.

  Köhler nodded. “Send a patrol a mile either way down the beach. Two patrols are to advance into the forest. If they encounter flowing water, the path must be marked immediately.”

  Water was one of the most important resources that the expedition needed. Their supplies on board the ships had run out. Even if this location ultimately turned out to be unsuitable for a base, a fresh water source had to be found before the journey could continue.

  Angelicus nodded and gave his orders. Köhler himself trudged along the beach and examined the ground. A few meters inland it got a little rockier, which meant that a good foundation for the planned fort could be built here if they stayed at this point. The trees seemed suitable for the construction of the accommodation, one would not have to carry them far. It was necessary to reach far into the forest – they needed a free zone around the fort that could be defended by projectiles and easy access to fresh water, which they hoped would find. On the other hand, the fort had to kiss the beach, be connected directly to the pier, which was then also on the list of structures to be built. It was a work that required considerable effort, but which, if everyone tackled it, should result in a shell construction in a relatively short time. Further fortifications, such as the erection of a stone wall, could then be tackled with a somewhat reduced intensity.