The Eternal Empire

by Geoff Fabron

  "General Dikouros will not be receptive to anything," said Silvanus. "He's dead. A team of Saxon assassins attacked his villa at about three o'clock this morning. They killed him and a number of senators who were visiting from the capital." He did not add that the general had been found in his blood soaked bed with a local 'entertainment girl' who had died beside him.

  "Who's in charge then?" asked Cornelius.

  "The deputy commander is Marcellus Comnenus. He arrived a few weeks ago from Constantinople."

  "Not another appointment of the Emperor!" exclaimed Cornelius is exasperation. "That's all we need!"

  "So far he doesn't seem as bad as Dikouros, he’s a career office who has spent the last 20 years in Asia Minor. At least he listens to his staff and is less concerned with pandering to the politicians in Constantinople. I think he'll listen to you."

  "I hope so," said Cornelius rising from his chair. "Let's go and see him now."

  5th August 1920

  Britannia

  The destruction of the Imperial fleet at Peturia coincided with the intervention of the Caledonian army in the fighting in Britannia. The advance units of the imperial army which had been pursuing the rebel forces were thrown back by the onslaught. A few days later Hiberian troops landed along the west coast, and began to attack the Roman rear. Titus Petronius found himself in combat again, leading a pair of cohorts of the legio II Augusta from Isca against a force of Hiberians which were attacking the naval base at Abonae.

  Titus sent one cohort under Virius Primus into the city to defend the harbour, while he retained the other cohort and a single squadron of armoured motor carriages under his direct command. Titus launched an attack in the early hours of the morning surprising the undisciplined Hiberian troops and driving most of them back to their boats. He then turned back to Abonae where pockets of the invaders, now cut off from escape were holding out and refusing to surrender. He met up with Virius outside a burnt out warehouse.

  "What's the situation here Virius," asked Titus. As a result of his performance in the fighting against the rebels and heavy losses amongst senior, Titus had been appointed a senior tribune of the legion and now outranked his former colleague.

  "We've got the last of them trapped in a group of buildings a block from here," reported Virius, his face and uniform black from the fighting. "It's going to be a tough job getting them out, they're not inclined to surrender."

  Titus nodded grimly. The Hiberians were a wild bunch with a fanatical hatred for the Empire. "Give them one chance to surrender," he ordered Virius. "Then bring up artillery and level the area. No prisoners. We can't afford to waste men in house to house fighting now that the Saxons and Caledonians have joined in."

  Virius inwardly grimaced at the cold ruthless streak in his old friend. He could remember him being shocked by his suggestion to sink Hiberian fishing boats in retaliation for a raid. He acknowledged the order and sent a soldier to call up the artillery. He then turned back to Titus. "Any more orders?"

  Titus shook his head. "No, we'll remain around Isca in case of any more Hiberian attacks. The rest of the army will probably continue fighting the rebels and the Caledonians. With the channel closed it looks like they're stuck here."

  The day after the attack on Peturia, the Saxon fleet had sailed into the Oceanus Britannicus, sinking any merchant ships that they could find and shelling the ports along the coast. The bombardment did not do much damage but drove home the fact that Britannia was now cut off from the mainland.

  "Do you know what's happening in Germania?" asked Virius.

  "Not really, only that the Saxons have crossed the Rhine at Colonia Agrippina, Confluentes, Moguntiacum and Argentoratum."

  "Isn't your brother with the embassy in Saxony?"

  "Yes, Cornelius was assisting with the trade negotiations," Titus confirmed casually. "Although I've no idea what he's been doing since the introduction of the trade laws."

  "Will he be safe in Saxony?" enquired Virius, concerned that his friends’ nonchalant air hid some deep worries.

  "Safer than here!" laughed Titus. "Give them their due, the Saxons respect the sanctity of diplomats. My big brother will spend the war interned in some fancy hotel while we spend it dodging bullets and trying to kill the bastards."

  5th August 1920

  Fort Claudius, Germania

  Quintus Drusus dismissed his centurions after the briefing. The Saxons had the fortress completely surrounded and had made a couple of probing attacks last night but had been easily driven off. He had great confidence in the ability of his men to hold this section of the Trajan line even when surrounded. After all, it was designed for such an eventuality and he had a full complement of men as well as plenty of food and ammunition.

  He had been in command for over a year and knew the layout of the fort like the back of his hand. When he looked at the architects drawing of Fort Claudius he did not see just black lines on a white sheet of paper, he saw the dimly lit underground corridors that connected the bunkers and defence lines. He knew the view from each firing position and the location and density of every minefield. From his command centre Drusus was in telephone contact with every bunker, defence point and gun position in the fort. He could direct artillery and mortar fire upon any attack and call up reinforcements from the infantry waiting in reserve deep below ground. Every part of the fort was protected by reinforced concrete, every approach covered by machine rifles.

  Quintus Drusus almost wished that the Saxons would launch an attack. Their infantry would be cut down by the machine rifle positions, their landships would be immobilised by the mines and obstacles, while their guns would barely chip the concrete of his fort.

  The confident smirk on the fort commanders’ face disappeared as a deafening roar filled the air in the control centre knocking everyone to the ground and showering the room with plaster from the ceiling. Drusus lay on the floor dazed for a few seconds. He thought that one of the magazines had exploded, but then there was another explosion and then shortly after that another one, each about 45 seconds apart and Drusus realised that they were under bombardment by heavy artillery.

  The force of the explosions surprised Drusus. All the fort commanders had been assured that the Saxons did not possess any large calibre siege guns. He made his way to the observation post above the command centre, pushing dazed and confused members of his staff aside as he went.

  As he got to the top of the stairs he was nearly knocked back down again by another explosion, but managed to grasp hold of the railing that lined the stair well. He looked out of the narrow slits and could see enormous craters that had been left by the shelling. He could see one close to a bunker of the inner defence perimeter and was shocked to see a number of large cracks in the bunkers concrete wall.

  He heard a noise behind him and turned to see his adjutant, red faced and covered in plaster dust.

  "What's happening!" he asked in a voice that betrayed his anxiety.

  Another shell landed and they both ducked below the level of the observation slits.

  "The Saxons have got hold of some siege guns from somewhere," said Drusus as they both squatted on the floor. "There's no way that their field artillery could do this kind of damage."

  "We've lost contact with some of the bunkers, the telephone lines must have been broken" said the adjutant, "and the senior centurion reports difficulty in keeping the reserve units calm and under control."

  Drusus could imagine the fear of the men below ground. The explosions, tremors and plaster cracks beginning to appear in the ceiling. The thought of being buried alive could cause even the toughest veterans to panic.

  "Bring them up to the bunker levels," ordered Drusus, "and distribute them around the defences." He knew that they would be no safer there, but if they panicked it could affect the entire garrison.

  A red glow and blast of hot air followed the next explosion. The two men looked out of the observation slit to see a small hill nearby engulfed in flames.


  "They've hit one of the gun positions," said Drusus with resignation. He now knew that he could not hold the fort for long. The Saxons would systematically destroy each part of the defences until there was nothing left to defend.

  They made their way down to the command post. His staff was shocked by the change in their commander. He was a broken man. He looked at the diagram of the fortress - his fortress - and felt both sadness and anger.

  "If we get out of this alive," he said to the adjutant in a trembling voice, "I'll kill those desk bound pricks in military intelligence!"

  From a railway siding in the forest on the Saxon side of the Rhine, an artillery officer ordered an adjustment to the elevation of the next gun in his battery to fire. It had been three days since the Saxons troops had crossed the frontier, but it had taken time to organise a telephone link from the guns to the forward artillery observers. The observers reported back to the gun position the results of each shell that they fired. Slowly, but methodically each fort would be blasted until it either surrendered or could be taken by assault.

  A group of sweating and swearing sailors passed the artillery officer with a trolley containing one of the huge shells that fed the guns pointing across the Rhine. The guns were the same as those mounted on the battleships of the Royal Saxon Navy with a range of nearly seventeen miles and a calibre twice that of the largest field gun in the army. Their delayed fuse, armour piecing shells were perfect for the job of destroying the Empires vaunted Trajan line.

  6th August 1920

  Outside Mogunticum

  “Advance! Advance!” Tribune Johannes Strausman pointed his sword towards the barricade of felled trees blocking the road ahead. A couple of hundred Saxon infantry from his regiment emerged from the woods and from behind a collection of cottages and charged forward.

  A volley of shots rang out from behind the barricade and a few of the attackers fell but the rest came resolutely on. Then the air was filled with the staccato sound of a machine rifle – its regular beat clear above the individual shooting of the men at the barricade. Entire groups of Saxons were knocked over by the heavy rounds and the rest quickly went to ground or found what cover they could,

  Tribune Strausman took up position behind a tree and carefully surveyed the enemy position. The machine rifle was set up on a rise a few yards behind and to the right of the barricade giving it a clear field of fire. He looked back towards the cottages and located the regiment’s artillery support officer who had been waiting for instructions from him. A few brief hand signals were all that was needed and the artillery officer disappeared. Strausman called to his men to remain where they were and keep under cover.

  A short time later there was a loud whistling noise followed by an explosion close by the barricades. More explosions followed until one hit close to the machine rifle position and its deadly fire ceased. Strausman signalled back to cease fire and then called out to his men again.

  “Advance!”, and once again the Saxons rose and charged the barricade, this time quickly overrunning it, killing or taking prisoner most of the Imperial troops there.

  In the relative quiet following the fight Tribune Strausman looked over the battlefield. Medics were checking over the fallen and engineers were dismantling the barricade as other Saxon units started up the road to find the next Imperial position. Strausman’s men sat or stood beside the road smoking, having a drink or talking quietly to comrades. They had done their bit for now and would have a break to reform and draw more ammunition.

  ‘Another fight, a few more miles, another dozen casualties’, Strausman spoke to the world around him as he took a deep drag on the cigar he had just lit, the strong pungent aroma helping to mask some of the more odious smells around.

  ‘The big question is will the Romans run out of miles before we run out of men.’

  7th August 1920

  Rhine Army Headquarters, Augusta Treverorum

  The war was into its fifth day before Cornelius was invited to an army level briefing. Silvanus Anemas had finally managed to get him added to the rolls as a military intelligence officer. The peregrini had been in a panic since the attack, seeing Saxon spies and infiltrators everywhere, and had been reticent to approve somebody who had just arrived from Minden. However the new army commander had overruled the head of security, and had confirmed Cornelius in both rank and position.

  Cornelius had just taken his seat in the auditorium when, along with everyone else, he had to rise again as Marcellus Comnenus entered. He watched the new army commander make his way to the podium. Cornelius noted that he looked fitter than most of the appointees from Constantinople. He was smartly dressed but did not adorn his uniform with decorations which had been awarded for pushing papers and kissing the correct backsides. He had an air of authority that did not depend upon any badge of rank and Cornelius thought that in assassinating Manual Dikouros, the Saxons may have done the Empire an unexpected service.

  Marcellus Comnenus greeted everyone and indicated that they should take their seats.

  "The most important development in the last twenty four hours," he began, getting down to business straight away, "has been the loss of a number of key fortresses of the Trajan line."

  There were some exclamations of shock at this news. Everybody had expected the forts to hold for at least two weeks.

  "The few reports that we have managed to receive," continued Comnenus ignoring the noise, "indicate that the Saxons have been using converted navy battleship guns to reduce the forts. The effect of this is that the main roads and rail lines out of Colonia Agrippina, Confluentes and Moguntiacum are no longer interdicted by these fortresses and are free to be used by the Saxons."

  Cornelius nodded as he made notes. The use of naval guns had been a brilliant piece of improvisation by the Saxons and he cursed himself for not tying it up with the unexplained gun production. The plans that he had stolen only referred to 'special artillery' units based along the Rhine. In fact after three or four days studying the Saxon plans, Cornelius was quite disappointed with what he had risked his life for. Although there was a mass of data, it did not actually tell him what the Saxon strategy was. It had orders of battle, mobilisation schedules and supply requirements but no operational plans. No lists of targets or key dates. Given time he could work out the most likely Saxon strategy, but time was something that he did not have much of.

  After his introduction and summary, Comnenus handed the podium over to Alexius Cabasila, the chief of staff who continued with the briefing. He moved away from the podium to a large map of the frontier.

  "The main Saxon armies are concentrated around Colonia Agrippina and Moguntiacum," he began, "with a smaller force at Argentoratum. There have been some attacks near Vetera, but they have not crossed the lower Rhine in strength north of the Ruhr river. The legio I Germanica are about twenty-five miles outside Colonia Agrippina holding the road to Aduatuca."

  He paused before moving his pointer to indicate the area around the city of Augusta Treverorum. "The legio IV Macedonia is dug in fifteen miles outside this city across the road to Moguntiacum. To our south the legio I Trajana is slowly withdrawing from Argentoratum towards Divodurum. The Saxons are between Augusta Treverorum and Moguntiacum cutting off the legio XV Primogenia which has been driven out of Moguntiacum towards Noviomagus and is danger of being destroyed."

  Again there was unhappy murmuring from the officers present many of whom had friends with the XV Primogenia.

  "In order to save the fifteenth," said Cabasila raising his voice above the noise, "an offensive has been planned and will begin the day after tomorrow."

  That got everybody's attention. Cornelius had heard rumours about the attack but had not been involved in planning it. Alexius Cabasila had been appointed by Manual Dikouros and had shared the late army commanders’ disdain of the intelligence section.

  "The legio XIV Gemina is moving to a position south of Augusta Treverorum and will be joined by a number of auxiliary armoured motor carriag
e cohorts, an auxilia palatina regiment and the X Cataphract Landship Regiment. This force will counter-attack towards Moguntiacum, relieve the fifteenth legion and drive the Saxons back over the Rhine."

  There was some excitement amongst the audience at the prospect of going on to the offensive, but Cornelius did not share it. The legio XIV Gemina was the army reserve and had been positioned to back up his uncles legion to the north. He stood up and indicated that he had something to say.

  "What's being done to contain the Saxon army that is massed around Colonia Agrippina?"

  "The Saxons to our north are advancing very slowly, Cornelius Petronius," replied Cabasila condescendingly. "Your uncle is doing a very good job of holding them up."

  "With respect sir," said Cornelius, "I think that we should find out more about those forces. According to our information there are twice as many Saxons across the Rhine at Colonia Agrippina than there are at Moguntiacum."

  Alexius Cabasila looked irritated by these questions. "The orders for the attack have already been drafted. If the Saxons do have more troops to the north then why haven't they made more progress there?"

  My point exactly, thought Cornelius and was about to say so when Marcellus Comnenus intervened.

  "Cornelius Petronius does make a good point Alexius," he said. "I think that you should get some more information. The attack is only scheduled for the ninth and I am sure that you can spare a few aircraft for a reconnaissance mission."

  The chief of staff nodded his agreement and Cornelius sat down satisfied for the present. At least this army commander appeared to be interested in what he had to say.