The Eternal Empire

by Geoff Fabron

  Cornelius was taken aback. It was a heavy responsibility and the apprehension obviously showed on his face. The ambassador gave him a reassuring smile.

  "Don't worry Cornelius, I have faith in your abilities even if you doubt yourself. I'll be forwarding a full report to Gregory Nicerites. I believe you know him?"

  "Yes," confirmed Cornelius, "we've been friends for a number of years."

  "That's good. That will give you somebody to guide you through the bizarre and convoluted politics in the capital. Talk to the wrong person, in the wrong order and you could make an enemy for life."

  "Anyway," continued Taronites, "I want you to leave this afternoon. There's a train going to Colonia Agrippina. You can board an Imperial Airlines flight at the legionary airfield there. You'll have to make a couple of stops, but you should be in the capital by tomorrow evening. I'll telegraph the legate at Colonia Agrippina to make the necessary arrangements. Have you any questions?"

  The flurry of instructions left Cornelius feeling quite bewildered. He had plenty of questions, but none seemed particularly important or appropriate at that time.

  "No ambassador," replied Cornelius, "I'd better get back to the embassy and pack a few things for the journey."

  Taronites nodded his agreement and instructed an aide to drive Cornelius back to the city. While the aide went to bring the car round to the entrance Cornelius wrote a short note to Katherine telling her that he had to go away and did not know when he would be back. He added that he knew that she would join him in hoping and praying for a swift and peaceful settlement to this sudden crisis. When he had finished the note he asked one of the servants to take him to Count Maleric.

  The Count was alone in the same room where he had spoken to Cornelius about Katherine. He was even staring out of the same window. The servant showed Cornelius in and announced him.

  "I must leave for Constantinople this afternoon," Cornelius began. "I won't have time to contact Katherine before I leave and would be grateful if you could give her this note."

  Taking the piece of paper, Maleric's expression mellowed and he smiled. "Of course I will my boy," he said, "that was very thoughtful of you. I'm sure Katherine will appreciate it." His tone of voice said that the Count also appreciated it.

  "Good luck in Constantinople Cornelius," said Maleric, and added with a sly grin "I hope you can get them to see reason."

  Cornelius tried to keep a blank expression on his face and not show any reaction to the Count's probing statement, but was not altogether successful.

  "Don't worry," laughed Maleric, "I haven't been eavesdropping on your conversations with Taronites. There is only one logical reason why Isaac would send you back to the capital at this time and on such short notice."

  The Count put a friendly hand on his shoulder and spoke to Cornelius from the heart, a hint of emotion breaking in his voice. "I pray to God that you will be successful, because the alternative might be too horrible to imagine."

  5th April 1920

  Londinium, Britannia

  It was not only with neighbouring countries that the Empires new policy was causing consternation. In the province of Britannia, demonstrations occurred in several ports and major trading centres and the new laws were denounced in the provincial assembly.

  For the past two decades, Britannia had been capitalising on its location as a centre for trade. Goods from across the Atlantic, from Scandia, Saxony and the Empire of the Rus would find their way to ports in the province for trans-shipment to other destinations. Small trading concerns had grown to become major merchant houses, their enormous warehouses dominating the wharves of the ports around the island. Britannia, more than any other province of the Empire depended upon trade for its economic well being.

  These facts were made abundantly clear to Romanus Philokates, the governor of Britannia by Sextus Capito at the fiscal meeting following the announcement of the new laws

  The governor was examining the figure filled report in his hands, a sense of gloom clouding the aura of confidence that normally surrounded him.

  "Aren't these figures a bit on the pessimistic side Sextus?"

  "No governor," Capito replied, "if anything they understate the potential damage to the economy of the province. This report deals purely with the reduction of imports and exports that can reasonably be expected as a consequence of the new policy of chief minister Exanzenus. It doesn't cover the effects on local trade due to the overall reduction in economic activity - less money earned because of lower trans-shipments means less money to spend in the shops and markets. There'll be another report to cover that next week once my staff has finished their research."

  "Thorough as always Sextus," sighed the governor, "but I wish Exanzenus had waited until the elections are over."

  Sextus knew that the governor was concerned about the elections for the provincial assembly which were due to be held in two weeks time. The anti-imperial feeling resulting from the new policy could hand control of the assembly to the Federals and Radicals.

  After the visit from the peregrini, Sextus had taken a deeper interest in provincial politics. He had soon discovered that there was a ground swell of anti-imperial and pro-independence feelings amongst the provincial bureaucracy. By contacting some of his old acquaintances in the auxiliaries, he had also learnt that local troops were highly antagonistic towards regular forces in the province. The situation had been highlighted when auxiliary units proved reluctant to intervene against demonstrators and rioters in the unrest which followed the announcement of the new policy. Imperial troops had to be used to restore order and there had been numerous repetitions of the type of incident that Titus had experienced.

  Luckily for Sextus, the peregrini had not, as yet, paid him a return visit. They probably had their hands full, thought Sextus grimly, thinking of the number of arrests and 'disappearances' of high profile provincials recently. The thought of the peregrini coming to see him, and expecting information caused a knot in his stomach. He could not denounce his friends and colleagues, but feared the consequences if he was marked as 'disloyal'.

  "I plan to meet with the leaders of each party in the assembly during the run up to the elections," continued the governor, "I must maintain dialogue with them at all costs. I believe that I can prevent any rash behaviour on their behalf if the election results turn out as currently projected."

  Sextus nodded in agreement. He admired the governor a great deal, as did everyone of importance in the province regardless of their political persuasion. His personal integrity and honesty together with the fact that he always tried to do what was best for the province had gained him a great deal of respect. Even those who wanted to see the province declare itself independent of the Empire would listen to what the governor had to say.

  "Is there anything else that I can do to help you governor?"

  "No, thank you Sextus, your report will be all for now. I'll be forwarding a copy to Constantinople, together with my recommendation that the new policy be buried at the bottom of the nearest dung heap and quietly forgotten."

  Sextus looked up from his papers, his eyebrows raised in surprise at the governors’ language.

  "But not in those words of course," the governor clarified with a look of mild amusement on his face, "in the mean time we must work at keeping everything calm and under control." He sat back in his chair and looked thoughtfully at Sextus. "Britannia is like a gunpowder magazine at the moment. The last thing we want is a bunch of fire brands running around throwing sparks all over the place!"

  5th April 1920

  Minden, Saxony

  None of the officers in the conference room could recall seeing the "Ice General" smile before. It was not a beaming ear to ear grin that is associated with great amusement or laughter, it was more a softening of the cold rock like expression that the Generals face seemed set in. They took it as an indication that something had warmed the iron heart of the man.

  The person responsible for the sudden thaw was
Franz Maleric. He was standing up in front with charts and maps attached to the walls having made his presentation to Count Godisger and the rest of the Saxon army staff. He kept his face impassive not wishing to appear proud or smug at being the first of his colleagues to have proposed a plan that seemed to have met with the Generals approval.

  Godisger had joined Maleric at the front and walked carefully and deliberately from one display to the next, taking in each map, chart or diagram, nodding slowly as he did.

  "Tribune Maleric's' ideas are refreshing," he said at last, turning his attention to the officers seated before him, "he proposes unusual, yet practical solutions to neutralising key advantages that the imperial armies have over us." He paced up and down the platform on which Maleric had made his presentation whilst Franz stood to one side, "he also considers the political aspect, something that the rest of you have conspicuously ignored!" He gave the seated officers an accusing glare. Some fidgeted in their seats whilst others reddened in embarrassment.

  "You didn't bother to look more than a hundred miles beyond the Rhine!" snapped Godisger.

  "The Empire stretches from Britannia to Egypt. It borders the Ottoman and Arab Empires as well as Saxony and the Duchies. It has over half a million soldiers and a population of nearly three hundred million."

  Godisger spoke to his staff like a school teacher hammering home a basic piece of knowledge to a particularly dense group of students. "Its size means that it has resources that we can't match! But never forget that we are not their only potential enemy. There are the Ottomans, the Arabs and as Maleric had just pointed out in his presentation, they can also have themselves as an enemy."

  Godisger allowed a blanket of silence to descend upon the room. The officers glanced at one another with their eyes trying to discern the reason for the generals’ dramatic pause whilst Godisger stood like a statue before them. When he was sure he had their full attention, he spoke.

  "Tribune Maleric," he said still looking at the officers in front of him, "in view of the recent announcement from Constantinople regarding the punitive increase in duty and the unilateral imposition of a tariff for using the Rhine, Danube and other waterways, do you have any comments?"

  Franz Maleric smiled. The news of the new imperial trade policy had been announced as he was putting the finishing touches to his presentation. There had not been any time to change his maps or charts, but he had made some notes in case the opportunity presented itself, and the general had just given him that opening. He moved from his position to one side of the platform where he had been standing since he had concluded his presentation.

  "When I drew up this plan," he said, his confidence boosted by the Generals approval, "I had no idea that a situation would develop so quickly that could provide a favourable environment for its execution." There was a stirring amongst his fellow officers as the implication of what he had just said sank in. Maleric looked to Godisger.

  "Go on," he ordered.

  Maleric took a deep breath. "General, I formally recommend that the Saxon army begin to prepare detailed operational plans based on my presentation today for offensive action against the Empire.

  He noticed the look of surprise, or was it shock, on the faces of several of his colleagues. Godisger showed no emotion at all. Maleric continued.

  "There's a lot of work to do. Production of the 'special weapons' and training for the special operations mentioned in my report must begin at once. The current mobilisation schedule must be changed, and diplomatic and covert activities, especially in Britannia, must be co-ordinated."

  Godisger began to nod his head slowly, but otherwise his expression did not change.

  "The opportunity presented to us by their arrogant pronouncements," continued Maleric, "together with the reductions in the imperial forces and the internal problems within the Empire must not be wasted."

  Maleric stood before Godisger, not at attention but erect and proud of what he had said.

  Godisger remained immobile, thinking deeply. The desire for revenge and the fear of the consequences of failure pulled him in different directions. It could work, he thought. At last he could grind those arrogant Roman faces into the dust of defeat! Make them acknowledge Saxony as an equal! He would have to persuade the King and the Royal Council, but Maleric was right. There was no time to lose.

  "Yes tribune Maleric," he replied at last, fixing Franz with his eyes. "I do believe that you are correct. This may be too good an opportunity to miss." He turned to the rest of his staff and shot off a series of orders.

  "All other activities of this staff are suspended. I want everybody working 24 hours a day on preparing battle plans in line with this presentation. Tribune Maleric will have overall control of the military planning and will allocate work to each of you." He looked at Maleric who nodded in acknowledgement.

  "I will contact Count Boling for support from the diplomatic service and Admiral Keslitger for some navy personnel to be seconded to my staff so that we can co-ordinate their activities as well."

  Godisger looked at his staff. They were his hand-picked men, the best from the staff school. Now they would be able to put their training to good use. He felt proud as he surveyed their confident and enthusiastic faces.

  "You all have plenty to do, so I'll leave you to get on with it," he picked his generals cap from the table; "I am going to see the King."

  5th April 1920

  Colonia Agrippina, Rhine frontier

  Cornelius arrived at the frontier late that evening, and his diplomatic passport got him across the bridge to the city of Colonia Agrippina with the minimum of formalities. An optio from the legio IV Macedonian was waiting for him with a motor carriage and he was driven to a small airfield on the outskirts of the city. An Imperial Airways transport plane was waiting for him on the runway. The optio stopped the motor carriage beside the boarding ladder and Cornelius got out.

  A steward with a clipboard was waiting at the foot of the ladder.

  "Cornelius Petronius?" he asked curtly.

  Cornelius nodded.

  "Please board immediately sir," the steward said perfunctorily, "this flight has already been delayed for three hours in order to accommodate you. Your baggage has been loaded already."

  Cornelius noticed the single bag that he had hurriedly packed on his return to the embassy being unceremoniously tossed into the cargo hold beneath the aircraft. He was about to say that it was hardly his fault that the plane had to wait, when the steward, possibly noticing Cornelius's anger at his rudeness, gave him a disarming smile.

  "The other passengers sir," he said in conspiratorial tones, "are a bit upset over the delay."

  "Oh," said Cornelius, "that's too bad," and climbed the ladder into the aircraft.

  As he entered the dimly lit cabin, there were sighs of relief and muttered expressions of 'at last' and 'about time' from the dozen or so other passengers. Cornelius smiled pleasantly at each of them as he made his way to a seat at the back, making it very clear that he did not give a damn.

  The narrow plane had about ten rows with a central aisle and a single seat on either side each next to a small round window with red velvet curtains. Cornelius took a seat opposite a man in a legionary uniform. He was fast asleep. Cornelius had just about enough time to fasten his seat belt when the engines started up and the aircraft took off.

  Once airborne, the legionary woke up and leaned across the aisle. "Tribune Antonius Granicus, adjutant legio XX Valeria Victrix," he said in greeting offering his hand.

  Cornelius took the offered hand and introduced himself. "Cornelius Petronius. On attachment to the embassy in Minden. At least you don't seem upset by being kept waiting for three hours."

  The tribune snorted a small laugh. "I'm in the army, you spend most of your life waiting for something to happen, and the rest of it wishing it hadn't."

  Cornelius laughed back. "That's true, I'd almost forgotten. Where are you heading?"

  "Milan and then by train to Ravenna, I'
m attending a course on some new fangled piece of technical wizardry that'll reduce the number of fighting men and increase the number of mechanics!"

  "Well that's progress for you," commiserated Cornelius, "when I was in Africa the cavalry units in the legion were just that, men on horses. They looked after their own mounts with a small number of veterinary surgeons to assist. Now they consist of armoured motor carriages and tracked landships with more men keeping them running than actually driving and fighting in them."

  For the first part of the flight Cornelius and the tribune swapped stories of life in the military. The twentieth legion was stationed in Britannia so Cornelius mentioned that his brother was with the second Augusta, and asked how things were in the province. The tribune frowned.

  "Not good," he said. "Everyone's on edge, the local populace is sullen and fights between our men and local youths are so common that we have had to double the number of military police patrols in the garrison towns. Relations with the auxiliary units are not much better, whenever we try to organise joint manoeuvres we get no co-operation at all."

  Cornelius sat quietly taking in what the tribune had said. He remembered what Sextus had said at Titus's party last year.

  "How do the regular troops feel," asked Cornelius a few moments later.

  "Sorry?" said the tribune who had lost track of the conversation during the silence.

  "About the situation in Britannia?" explained Cornelius, "how do the legionaries and the troops of the auxilia palatina feel about it?"

  Granicus was thoughtful now. After a few minutes considering his reply, he gave Cornelius an answer.

  "Some, mainly the older ones like me, think that Constantinople should ease up. This new policy will cripple the economy in Britannia, and you can't expect people to sit idly by while their livelihoods disappear down the latrine. Then," he continued, "there's a movement amongst some of the younger officers that I find quite disturbing."