The Emperor's Men 4: Uprising

by Dirk van den Boom

  So deep in her thoughts, she hadn’t even noticed that her mother had approached her again. Lucia put a hand on her daughter’s belly. The unborn child took the opportunity to kick. Julia smiled happily. There was already a deep emotional bond between her and the child, and they shared the same sentiments.

  “You are fine, yes, my daughter?”

  “All is well,” Julia answered truthfully. In fact, the midwife was very pleased with her. She developed superbly through the pregnancy, and the ever stronger and persistent movements of the child testified that it was doing well and obviously looking forward to see the light of the world.

  “You don’t have to worry about delivery,” Lucia said gratefully. “It is certainly not easy, but it is the most proud moment in a woman’s life. It is the fulfillment for which we are born.”

  Julia offered her mother a smile. Lucia had fulfilled many things in her life, and the short moments of the delivery of her two daughters were certainly not among the most important. Julia had her own theory of what her mother was doing, and it was by no means a particularly flattering one.

  “I have no fear,” she replied truthfully. “I have a good midwife with great experience.”

  Here, too, she had invested her husband’s money with prudence. The midwife, in fact, had an excellent reputation and was rewarded well for her services. Above all, Julia was on a daily check-up. She enjoyed the conversations with the educated woman, having light wine and the wonderful little cookies she always brought from the market.

  For a moment, Julia thought of the layers of soft flesh which began to develop in parts of her body, and which had little to do with the bulge of the growing child. She glanced at the massive figure of her mother and frowned. Lucia bore her numerous pounds with aristocratic dignity, but suffered particularly during the summer months, which generally set her in a worse mood than she normally displayed.

  Perhaps she should refrain from the cookies for a while.

  Lucia patted her forearm.

  “If you need anything, just say it. You belong to your husband’s family now, but our bonds are strong and persistent, and you can always turn to me.”

  “Where is Father? I haven’t seen him for a long time.”

  “He keeps himself busy at the court in Treveri,” Lucia said with a certain reluctant acknowledgment in her voice. “He belongs to the Emperor’s close circle of advisers. I have heard that he is to be given the position of procurator once a vacancy is available.”

  Julia didn’t know if that was good news. For Lucia, this equaled social advancement and even more wealth. Her father would certainly not be averse to such a challenge. But as much as Julia despised her mother’s attitude, she loved her father very much, and it would be hard to bear to not see him for years, especially if he were to be employed as the administrator of a very remote province.

  “When will he be back in Ravenna?” Julia asked.

  “I don’t know. But it is said that the Emperor would like to visit the city of the time-wanderers to convince himself of the numerous technical developments. Surely your father will accompany him.”

  “Please tell me once you know more.”

  “Of course, my dove.”

  It took several minutes until her mother said goodbye and Julia remained alone. As a rule, Julia preferred this condition. Her husband’s family was an almost more unbearable company than her own. The mother of Caius, whose task was to take care of the highly pregnant daughter-in-law, was so timid and withdrawn, that Julia was hardly able to see her. And even if she appeared, it didn’t lead to any pleasant conversation.

  Julia stepped onto the balcony of the splendid villa. From here, she had a good look at the hectic bustle of Ravenna. The city had been blessed with an unprecedented economic upswing by the arrival of the time-wanderers. Immigrants from all parts of Rome wanted to be close to the strangers, from curiosity as well as with business-interests. Ravenna had never been a poor city, but now it transformed itself into the richest in the whole Empire.

  The child kicked her, as if it wanted the mother to remember something.

  Julia sighed softly. In recent times, dark moments had piled up, putting her determination and confidence to the test. Volkert was far away, and she couldn’t even be sure that he was still alive. And it was said that the women of the East, especially those of the barbarian peoples, were particularly skilled in embracing a young man who was rather naïve in love affairs, and to let him forget home and family.

  No, she couldn’t think of that. If she lost confidence in her Thomas, she could at once resign herself to the unhappy life with an unpleasant husband, like so many of her age and from her class.

  Julia took a deep breath. She wasn’t to succumb to depression. At the moment she was on her own, without confidants and without friends. But that would change if she only believed in the destiny that had so far filled her with sufficient confidence.

  She hesitated for a moment.

  She left the balcony and called for her body-servant. The unborn child kicked boldly.

  It was high time for a walk.

  24

  “The Emperor is inspecting a few fortresses north of Treveri. He will soon return. We should inform him about this beforehand. Rheinberg must know as well.”

  Langenhagen stared out the window. The Roman glass had defects in the cast and showed indeficiencies, but he could look from the top floor of the administration building down to the port. The gray body of the Saarbrücken was sharply distinguishable in the bright sunlight, and the officer didn’t feel for the first time the longing to simply strip the burdens of his office and to be just the servant of this beautiful old lady.

  “He must know as soon as possible,” Langenhagen confirmed. “But we should have a plan that would allow us to answer Gratian’s questions. After all, it is indirectly our fault that it has come so far.”

  Dahms frowned, rose from the chair behind his desk, and joined Langenhagen. “Our fault?”

  “Klasewitz is the best artillery expert we have. He crossed over to the enemy. We should have watched him better.”

  Dahms snorted. “Of course, it would have been good to take von Klasewitz as prisoner once Rheinberg became captain.” Here, without publicity, they allowed friendly confidentiality among themselves. Only out there, in front of others, they kept their etiquette. “But seriously, the fact that the man would be so insane as to start a mutiny no one really could’ve foreseen.”

  Langenhagen shoved his shoulders forward, seemed to make himself small. Dahms looked at the young man anxiously. Both had visibly aged in the year since they were lost in this epoch. Deep rings under Langenhagen’s eyes testified to the iron discipline with which he was driving himself, and the lines that had deeply buried themselves in the actually youthful face spoke another clear language. But after all they had heard, there would be no opportunity for relaxation in the foreseeable future.

  “This Godegisel seems to be trustworthy,” Dahms said.

  “I’ll have his information checked, of course, but ultimately we depend only on his word. Tennberg’s statements confirm everything, though. There seems to be a coherent picture.”

  “It smells like von Klasewitz and fits into what we know. Gratian is in great danger. I fear the worst.”

  Langenhagen tore himself away from the sight of the Saarbrücken. “We have done all this to prevent the great civil war that would weaken Rome decisively. So decisively that the Huns would give death to the Empire, even if they didn’t win. And now? Now, one of us is concerned to trigger exactly such a civil war – and a far more brutal and modern one than that in our timeline.”

  “And years earlier,” Dahms said.

  “That too.”

  Langenhagen’s face reflected his concerns. Dahms had the command over the city. He himself commanded the cruiser. The ship was his highest responsibility.

  “Johann, I would like the Saarbrücken to be placed on an increased readiness. It costs us fuel, but I want
it to be constantly under steam.”

  “This works out. We have received large quantities of high-quality charcoal, and we are expected to be able to get hard coal, albeit initially only in small quantities. We don’t touch our old supplies. The charcoal should be sufficient for readiness. We have to shove the stuff from the quay to the Saarbrücken, that’s all, and we have the manpower available by now.”

  “Please also reinforce the security measures. I wouldn’t be surprised if the attack would commence in several places at the same time.”

  “How could that happen? Maximus is in Britain!”

  “And we picked up Tennberg in Alexandria. Our opponents have contacts everywhere. They cannot coordinate it in time, but it is already enough if their allies start a round of insurrections after a certain activity has functioned as the agreed signal to carry out targeted actions – also here and now against the Saarbrücken. We are important in our role to protect Gratian and …” Langenhagen frowned. Then he went on. “Klasewitz wants the cruiser, Johann. He considers himself to be a gifted officer, born for this role. It will be his prize for providing Maximus with weapons technology. At least. And that means he will be targeting the cruiser, but not wanting to damage it. He wants to conquer the ship, and to command it afterwards.”

  Dahms nodded. “Yes, I agree.”

  “Sit down with the other officers. Look how you can increase security. What about the weapons for the legions? Klasewitz has focused on cannons. What do you have in mind?”

  Johann Dahms looked down. “I have to be honest, Klasewitz did it right. He has undertaken a single project and has consistently pursued it. We here have too many building sites at the same time. Our biggest achievement is the bronze steam engine. But otherwise …”

  “No. That’s not it. We have taken these decisions together in order to provide the biggest possible foundation for the development of Rome. An industrial revolution. But this is something quite different from creating a special product for a special purpose. We may have failed to set priorities, but otherwise … So what do we have?”

  “I can offer you a total of three Valentinian-class ships within four weeks, all equipped with light hand guns and steam catapults. We have made progress in the development of explosive devices, although I don’t know how to solve the problem of reliable impact detonators. But once the three ships are ready, they will have the necessary ammunition.”

  “That’s good, but it’s not enough. This war will take place on land, Johann, not at sea. We have a small advantage with maritime superiority, but ultimately we are dependent on a base, and that is currently only this city. Our little advantage stands and falls with this settlement, the workshops, and the workers who live here.”

  “I’ll do what I can.”

  Langenhagen nodded. “Johann, I want the Saarbrücken to be ready to sail at any time. We must have Rheinberg’s back. He cannot even care about the ship, he has other worries. The cruiser must be safe.”

  “As I said, the coal …”

  “No. Everything. Duty roster. Provisions. I’d like to be able to leave as soon as a situation arises that makes it inevitable to make our operational basis mobile. This also applies to the ships of the Valentinian-class. We should be able to get as many of them ready to leave as we can.”

  Dahms looked searchingly at the officer. “You really think it will be so bad? We have the whole apparatus of the Empire on our side! And then there is the infantry. The company alone makes up for a legion, if not more.”

  “I’ve talked about it with von Geeren. We divided the company already in too many small pieces. Two units are stationed here, about half of the men. One is now spread over half the Empire: Some protect our newly emerging iron industry in the Saarland; some are on an expedition to the east to find the Huns; some of them belong to von Geeren’s staff in Trier. We have moved men to Trier, in order to make a presence and to signal that the Emperor is protected.”

  “Not to mention Rheinberg.”

  “Yes. But the biggest problem is not even that we have distributed the men. At the moment, ammunition is still quite plentiful, but it won’t last forever. Thessaloniki has already drained our supplies. I assume that the men in the east, who have taken two MGs, won’t be able to get away without any shooting. On the one hand, the psychological advantage is diminishing with every further use of the weapons, on the other hand, we cannot replace the ammunition – or is there news?”

  Dahms raised his hands. “Steel, my friend, steel! Give me a working puddle furnace and a smart mold foundry, then I can start making cartridges. Not quite as good as we know it, but good enough to get the belts of the MGs filled up.”

  “How far are you with the furnace?”

  “We’re almost ready. I think we have solved the biggest design problems. I have the first real test run next week, then we will see if we can reach the necessary temperatures. After that, it is only a matter of time before we can produce steel in at least small quantities.”

  “How long?”

  “A month. Two.”

  “That’s not fast enough. I’m afraid that’s really not fast enough.”

  “The insurrection will begin in Britain. Even if it’s going to be completely smooth, it will take a while before he arrives. Until then …”

  “I don’t believe, as I said, that we are dealing with only one opponent from one direction. We should not be too pessimistic, but it’s necessary to be prepared for everything.”

  Dahms sighed. “Good. How should I proceed now? We need to focus.”

  “I’d like you to prepare explosives at all the important production facilities, including your furnace, for the worst case. Even the ships must be blown to smithereens if we cannot take them with us. Klasewitz will be able to use any technical equipment immediately against us if he conquers it. We must not give the enemy such an advantage.”

  “I’ll get it done. Von Geeren has a few pretty skilled firecrackers in his troop. They will know what to do.”

  “Very careful, Johann. If we cannot stop the enemy, it is necessary that they cannot lay their hands on all this.” He saw Dahm’s painful countenance, and smiled joylessly. “I don’t like giving such orders. Here is a lot of our heart invested in material and people, especially from you. But we must be prepared. It is of no use if we allow material in the enemy’s hand with which he can one day use to end to us.”

  Dahms lowered his head. “When we are already at terrible scenarios – there are at least two more questions: What would do we do in case of an evacuation with family members? I don’t refer only the families of our Roman recruits. You know that many of our crew have now found brides. I hear that children are already on the way. The men have begun to strike roots.”

  “That’s why the steamers have to be prepared, too. We must have them ready. In addition to the crew, they can transport the families who will make it to the port in the event of an attack. You should also work out a plan for this, preferably together with Joergensen.”

  “Good.”

  “And the second question?”

  Dahms took a deep breath. “Let’s suppose the worst happens and we have to go.”

  “Yes?”

  “Let’s suppose that we can prepare all the ships and take them with us. Our own little flotilla.”

  Langenhagen nodded. He knew the engineer’s question already.

  “Then the central question remains: Where are we going?” Dahms looked at the officer.

  He shrugged. “I’m open to suggestions, Johann. I have absolutely no idea.”

  “Let us hope that Rheinberg can give us an answer when it’s time.”

  25

  They were awakened, very early in the morning.

  The dinner with the Emperor had lasted well into the night. Nobody had dared to say goodbye before the old man had declared himself too tired to attend any longer. Neumann and the others had not been able to take another bite at that time.

  Exhausted and expecting digestive
problems, they had fallen into their beds after midnight. They staggered accordingly, as furious screams, the crashing opening of doors, and the grip of hard fists tore them from their slumber.

  But they were soldiers, all of them. Even with little sleep, they had been trained with iron discipline to function properly. When they were threatened with blades and dragged into the yard in a row, still in their night shirts, each of them was already very awake.

  And extremely confused.

  Many soldiers had gathered in the courtyard of the guest house. They were threatening, even hostile.

  Ouazebas, the heir to the throne, came forth from their midst. Behind by this dangerously calm demeanor, a volcano was hidden, ready for eruption. Neumann exchanged a look with Africanus. The Trierarch nodded in mute communication, raised both arms, and stepped forward.

  “What happened?” was his simple question, not challenging, but seriously interested.

  “My brother is dead,” the Aksumite said in a low voice. “My four years older brother, the pride of my father and one of the best officers of the Aksumite forces, died last night. He died a cruel death, rolled for minutes in his own excrement, with foam in front of his mouth and wild eyes. His pain must have been unbearable. Then he was dead. Torn from life. Just like that.”

  Africanus looked at Ouazebas, recognized more than anger and indignation in the arduous self-control of the man, above all a deep, burning grief, an honest feeling, nothing played, no charade. The pain was deep in Aksum’s heir.