by Steve White
“Excellent,” Wilhelmus spoke up, reentering the conversation. ‘The Western provinces are still wavering, and it may well become imperative for the Army of Germania to intervene in Gaul and Britain to… assure an orderly transition. Naturally, we hope that none of our subjects will be harmed any more than necessary. In fact—” he paused momentarily and sought for just the right phrase “—I feel their pain. Nevertheless, any disturbances that might arise would probably work even greater harm, so it is our Christian duty to maintain order in this difficult period. But at the same time…”
Hilaria’s schooled smile had begun to resemble a rictus. “Run along, Wilhelmus,” she got out through gritted teeth. The Lord of the World complied with visible relief, exiting by the same door the servant girl had used. Hilaria’s eyes followed him with an expression that was no more venomous than usual. She doesn’t hate him, except to the extent that she hates everyone, Nicoles reflected. Indeed, in many ways it was a marriage made in heaven. She, so eaten away by the lust for power that nothing else was left inside her, had always egged him on to rise higher and higher up the ladder of office; which suited him well enough, if only for the access to women that came with exalted status.
“Now, Nicoles,” she said briskly, “given our inability to locate Ecdicius and his family since those stupid thugs failed to kill them, and the persistent rumors that he is in Italy or en route there, it is necessary that we move without delay to stamp out any possible spark of rebellion in the West. The armies of the East will be concentrated at Sirmium and then move to secure Italy. In the meantime, I want you to go to Germania and meet with Kai personally.”
“Germania, Augusta?” Nicoles squeaked in horror.
“Germania,” she repeated with a malice that was as habitual as her husbands compulsive equivocation. “You must impress upon him the importance of acting with total ruthlessness in pacifying the West. We are confident that, with your well-known powers of eloquence and persuasiveness, you will be able to make these matters clear to him—in spite of…” She let the sentence fall off into a well of innuendo.
In spite of being a eunuch, Nicoles thought behind the seamless mask of his face. Why don’t you come out and say it, you demented bitch? “But Augusta,” he said aloud, “surely the word of a fellow military man would carry more weight with the general!”
“Unfortunately, we cannot be certain of the… enthusiasm of most professional officers for the Augustus. Many of them are still troubled by his youthful military record. On the other hand, your absolute commitment to us is unquestionable.” She left the reason unsaid: having been deeply involved in the plot, he now lived or died on Wilhelmus’ sufferance—meaning Hilarias.
“Afterwards,” she resumed, “you will accompany Kai and make sure he remembers that his duty to the Augustus supersedes any loyalty he may feel toward his old comrades-in-arms in the Western provinces. Naturally,
Kai himself—along with the Britons under his command— should attend to Gaul and leave Britain to a subordinate.” Nicoles nodded; this was standard imperial practice. “Also, I understand that you and the Master of the Offices have been making arrangements to employ barbarian auxiliaries.”
“Yes, Augusta.” Nicoles, knowing the matter was closed, had resigned himself to the hardships of the Germanian forests. “Our agents have been active among the savages of Hibernia. It should be possible to arrange an invasion of Britain from that direction to coincide with our own landing there. You may rest assured that that island, and Gaul, will be devastated beyond any hope of mounting a successful defiance of your Lord’s divinely appointed authority. And any other potential rebels should be deterred by the slaughter there.”
For once, Hilarias smile was one of unaffected happiness. There was, Nicoles thought, something oddly pure about it.
Chapter Eleven
They rode north along the Via Ostiensis past the Basilica of Saint Paul-without-the-Walls toward Rome, and the word of their coming sped ahead of diem. By the time they passed through the gateway in an angle of the Wall of Aurelian, in the shadow of the Pyramid of Cestius to the left, a large crowd had gathered to greet the Pope who seemed to have returned to them from the dead, and to get what was for most of them their first sight of Ecdicius, who was as much a hero here as he was throughout the West.
They proceeded north through the cheering multitudes. Sidonius would eventually resume residence at the Lateran Palace, where the popes had dwelled since Constantine had presented it to Miltiades. But first they would proceed directly to the Arch of Constantine, where Ecdicius would dramatically reveal the treachery from which he had escaped, the local troops would proclaim him Augustus in a spontaneous display (prearranged via courier before they’d left Ostia), and Sidonius would give his blessing. Later would come the opening shots in the salvo of anathemas Sidonius would hurl in the direction of Constantinople.
Sarnac, riding some distance behind the men of the hour, contented himself with sightseeing. Presently the titanic mass of the Circus Maximus loomed up ahead and to their left. Beyond and above rose the awesome imperial edifices of the Palatine Hill, which had given its name to all palaces.
As they rounded the eastern end of the Circus, he could glimpse the Colosseum far ahead. Everywhere was dense cityscape above which towered the teeming insulae or apartment blocks that housed the deafening mobs lining the streets.
“I hadn’t expected Rome to be like this,” he observed to Tylar. “Didn’t the Vandals do a job on this place in 455? Has the Restorer put it back on its feet in the last decade?”
“He’s done some rebuilding,” came Tylar’s voice inside his head. “But even in our history, the city recovered promptly from the Vandal sack, as Sidonius’ letters from the 460s attest. It’s sheer romanticism to think Rome went directly from classical grandeur to picturesque ruins in 455. The chariot races still draw capacity crowds over there.” Tylar covertly indicated the Circus Maximus. “What really wrecked Rome in our timeline was the endless sixth-century war of siege and counter-siege as Justinian’s generals tried to reconquer Italy from the Ostrogoths.”
As though in confirmation of the time travelers words, the Colosseum rose before them to the right, still in good repair and not overtaken by its medieval fate (in Sarnac’s world) of serving as a rock quarry and as a ready made fortress for the local mafiosi. The gladiatorial games had passed into history as the empire had turned Christian, but the amphitheater still hosted wild beast shows. Then they were at the Arch of Constantine, where the city’s garrison stood at attention. Ecdicius spurred his horse forward and the cheering rose to a crescendo.
The fortress stood on a crag overlooking the Wesser, hugely timbered above a pedestal-like foundation of local stone, looming over this darkly forested land like the power of Rome which it represented. For this was the headquarters of the Army of Germania, as new and rough-hewn as the province itself, as elementally strong as the army which was now putting itself on display in the level area at the foot of the crag for the emperors chamberlain.
The river barge grounded and, in comical contrast to the austere martial setting, the chamberlain’s litter made its wobbly way ashore on the shoulders of bearers who seemed only too aware that every one of the thousands of waiting troops were silently praying for them to drop their burden into the shallows. But they didn’t. Kai muttered his disappointment under his breath as he stepped forward.
The chamberlain Nicoles got unsteadily out of the litter, rouge running and carefully curled hair plastered to his head, fanning himself theatrically against the summer heat. Despite all that, he didn’t really fit Kai’s image of a eunuch; though visibly soft, he wasn’t obese as they generally became after years of compensatory gluttony. Well, he thought, I know men who can eat like pigs and not get fat. So why not a half-man as well?
He got through his greeting to the chamberlain, who acknowledged in his pleasant voice. That, at least, was typical of eunuchs. As Kai knew from his mercifully brief time in Constant
inople, they seldom spoke in the high-pitched screech of popular imagination. And those in high court positions had to be especially careful to make themselves personally agreeable; they cultivated pleasing voices just as they stayed scrupulously diapered.
“I trust your journey was pleasant, Chamberlain,” Kai said after the formalities were over. He knew damned well it hadn’t been, and wasn’t particularly pleased with himself for his minor malice. It wasn’t usual for him—but things had ceased to be usual on the day the news of the Pan-Tarkan’s death had arrived.
Nicoles fanned even more energetically, flinching from the ubiquitous insects. “Ah, my dear general, the journey has been enlightening if nothing else. I’d imagined Germania to be a land of snow and ice and freezing winds!”
“Had you come in the winter, Chamberlain, that’s exactly how you would have found it.” And I wish to God you had! “But this is unusually hot even for a summer afternoon. Why don’t we proceed to the fort? At least the insects aren’t as bad as they are down here by the river.”
“But of course.” Nicoles gazed up at the brooding walls. Then his eyes swept around, surveying the massed troops. Kai had been warned that this was no fool.
Nicoles’ eyes ran over the ranks of helmeted heavy infantry with their large shields and short ring-mail loricae hamata. He also observed the unarmored javelin-men and archers. Some of the latter carried the oddly long bows that had appeared in Artorius’ army after his rebel-quelling interlude in western Britain following the Battle of Bourges in 470. Many of the units, he knew, drew their recruits from the local population. But there were also Isaurians from Asia Minor, Franks and Gauls from the other side of the Rhine, and not a few Britons. And the formation his eyes finally settled on was predominantly British.
Sitting astride the horses that had been specially bred to carry heavy cavalry, the Artoriani seemed to embody irresistible force at rest. The history of the last three decades said the impression was not a false one. Artorius had built on the foundation of the Sarmatian cataphractarii from whom he was partly descended to create a force of armored shock cavalry that knew no equal, at just the time when such cavalry was coming to dominate the battlefield. Nicoles surveyed the uniformly red cloaks, the scale armor, the long lances (except for the minority of specialist mounted javelin-throwers), and the blood-red dragon standard that barely stirred in this stifling stillness; and he knew he was looking at the instrument which, wielded in precisely the right way at precisely the right time, had won Artorius the purple.
“Most impressive, General,” he said to Kai. “But now, I believe I’ll avail myself of your hospitality.”
*
Kai let the scroll close with a faint snap. He had learned to read late in life, but what he had just read left no room for ambiguity as to its meaning. Wilhelmus couldn’t possibly have dictated it.
He raised his eyes to Nicoles. After the initial reception and dinner, they had retired to his office and the chamberlain had presented his credentials and the commands of Wilhelmus Augustus—a combination of name and title on which Kai still gagged. That craven sack of gonads and blubber, planting his fat bottom on the throne of Artorius! Of course he said nothing, for to do so would have been at least as much as his life was worth. But he might as well have shouted it for all his feelings were concealed from Nicoles.
Gazing blandly from across the table, the chamberlain saw a man in his forties, starting to put on a little weight but still mostly muscle. His hair and beard were coppery, but the latter—closely trimmed as was generally the case with men who had to wear the standard cavalry helmet with its adjustable cheekpieces—was now shot through with gray, which was advancing inexorably up his temples. His ruddy, open face could hardly have been more Celtic-looking; those features held not a memory of the Sarmarian horsemen from whom he was remotely descended.
“Well, Chamberlain,” he finally said, “my instructions are clear enough. And I begin to understand why you came here immediately after entering the province, before calling on the governor.”
“Officially, General,” Nicoles said ingratiatingly, “the reason is that the governor is headquartered further west, on the Rhine, so my route brought me here first. But I must confess that the geography was most fortuitous from my standpoint. The governor need not be concerned. Your army is now under direct imperial direction.” He delicately indicated the scroll that Kai had allowed to fall to the tabletop. “I am here to help resolve any difficulties that may arise in interpreting the commands of the Augustus. You may speak quite frankly, putting any questions or concerns to me that you wish.”
Kai felt a tug of conflicting emotions as his distrust of the chamberlain’s word warred with his nature, which inclined him to accept any invitation to openness. “Well,” he began cautiously, “my first concern is the effect these orders will have on the security of Germania. After all, I’m being ordered to strip the garrisons of the Elbe of their best troops and take them into Gaul and Britain. How will the tribes to the east react?”
“The Augustus has been given to understand that the Elbe is quiet at present, thanks to your glorious victories.”
Spoken like a true courtier, Kai sneered inwardly. But he couldn’t deny that it was basically true. Those Saxons, Thuringians and Rugians who hadn’t submitted had been pushed east, where they were now reclaiming their old lands between the Elbe and the Oder from the Slavs who had filled the vacuum when the Teutons had moved west. They wouldn’t make trouble, at least not immediately.
“All well and good,” he said aloud, “but there may be other difficulties.” His need to be frank overcame his caution. “Chamberlain, many of my officers and men are confused… and I share their confusion. We were all loyal to Artorius, and were prepared to be loyal to his chosen successor. Where is he now?”
Nicoles allowed himself a slight smile. This would sound good at Kai’s treason trial. Not that such a trial would occur for another year or two. Right now, they needed this guileless simpleton to break the Wests resistance. Afterwards, as the Augusta consolidated her power, weeding out everyone linked with the previous reign… “As yet, General, we can’t be certain. There are, however, unconfirmed reports that he’s surfaced in Italy. This is why it is imperative that the Army of Germania, led by an officer of your undoubted loyalty, move without delay to secure the West and forestall any attempt at usurpation by the traitor who conspired against his adoptive father, Artorius Augustus of revered memory.”
“Yes, yes, I know. The courier brought word that he’d done that.” Kai’s face was like a theatrical mask representing inner agony. “But it’s hard for those of us who knew him to believe it. And why would he have wanted to? The Pan-Tarkan was dying! All Ecdicius had to do was wait, and all would’ve been his.”
“Perhaps, General, the late Artorius Augustus wasn’t dying quite fast enough for Ecdicius.” Kai’s head jerked up and his green eyes went wide. Nicoles nodded gravely. “Yes. We have reason to suspect that he may have hastened the end by poison. Does not his flight from Constantinople fairly shout his guilt?”
Nicoles fell silent, shrewdly leaving Kai alone with his own torment.
Could it be possible? Ecdicius? Well, ambition does strange things to men; I’ve seen it. Besides, when all’s said and done the fact remains that he is a Gaul.
And do I really have any choice? With the Pan-Tarkan dead and his heir vanished, all that’s left to me is the restored empire that we fought for, that he wanted. If I don’t stay loyal to that, then what will my life have meant?
“Well, Chamberlain,” he finally said, “I’ll do my best to allay my officers’ misgivings. It may not be easy, considering… Well, you asked me to be frank. And the fact is, the new Augustus isn’t too highly regarded by the army.”
Nicoles smiled again. Better and better! Really, the man was like a child—he didn’t even have to be maneuvered into incriminating himself. He formed an expression that counterfeited sincerity. “Actually, that unfortunate busines
s in Wilhelmus’ youth has been widely misrepresented. Remember, he was a student then, at the university Artorius Augustus had recently founded.” Kai remembered the Pan-Tarkan’s enthusiasm for the project, early in his reign. Theodosius I had closed the old University of Athens for its pagan associations, so Artorius had set out to create a Christian successor, dedicating a new university on the island of Rhodes. “So,” Nicoles went on, “he had a legitimate reason for not taking up his family’s traditional military calling, being at the time a Rhodes scholar. Also, I assure you he was motivated not by fear for his personal safety but by genuine misgivings about the wisdom and righteousness of the war we were waging with Persia then. So, you see, far from showing cowardice he displayed genuine moral courage.”
Well, Kai reflected, I thought I’d heard all the forms human hypocrisy can take! At least it’s harmless, for no one could ever he taken in by such transparent self-justification. Could they? But a resurgent caution made him hold his tongue. “No doubt, Chamberlain, no doubt. But for now, lets turn to the actual plan. I see that we’re commanded to secure Britain at the same time as Gaul.”
“Rest assured, General, that the Augustus does not require from you or your British troops any such display of loyalty as an invasion of your native country. Indeed, I am commanded to suggest that the securing of Britain would best be left to a trusted subordinate of non-British origin, commanding troops from other areas of the empire. Your loyalty is, of course, beyond question. But some of your British troops might experience certain… emotional conflicts which would prevent them from proceeding with the full rigor which law and religion alike prescribe for subjects who rebel against their rightful emperor.”
Kai made no reply. Instead, he listened to a little voice he didn’t want to near: Is this what we fought for?
“Also,” Nicoles went on, “I am in a position to assure you that your forces’ landing in Britain will have the advantage of coinciding with incursions from other quarters into that notoriously rebellious island.”
