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Emperor: Time’s Tapestry Book One

Page 1

by Stephen Baxter




  Acclaim for

  EMPEROR

  Time’s Tapestry Book One

  “Baxter produces something new and subtly different in the time-travel genre. A multigenerational story of how an idea can permeate time and change the parameters of human existence…with a large cast of Romans [and] ancient Britons, and colorful settings.”

  —S. M. Stirling, author of The Scourge of God

  “Epic historical fiction laced with a science fiction premise…a vividly convincing picture of a past world.”

  —SFX

  “Strong imagination and a capacity for awe abound in the work of Stephen Baxter.”

  —The Times Literary Supplement

  “Formally audacious, constantly surprising, clinically subversive of the genre norms, cosmic irony always at hand to awe and undercut the reader.”

  —Locus

  “Baxter at his best.”

  —The Guardian (U.K.)

  Acclaim for

  Conqueror

  Time’s Tapestry Book Two

  “[A] series…full of page-turning action, intriguing mystery and awe-inspiring scientific speculation. Full of evocative historical detail and characters who jump off the page, this is history lived by people whose future is not yet locked as our past.”

  —The Eternal Night

  “This is fast-moving populist fiction written with a scholar’s interest in the past as Baxter brings to life Norse raiders, merchants, monks and those who serve in the retinues of kings. It’s masterful, a mix of wide-screen spectacle and telling details. Mighty impressive.”

  —SFX

  “Well written and certainly engaging, dealing with an interesting period of history in an interesting manner.”

  —Strange Horizons

  Acclaim for

  Navigator

  Time’s Tapestry Book Three

  “The storytelling is excellent, the historical background exceptionally developed. As before, Baxter shows people in ordinary occupations getting involved [with] and sometimes dragged into dealing with the prophecy. This and the rest of the Time’s Tapestry series aren’t mere page-turners; they’re downright thought provoking.”

  —Booklist

  “Engrossing…Baxter understands how a craving for beauty and knowledge can become ghastly fanaticism, and he’s also very good at showing his characters thinking within the limitations of their time.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  “Baxter’s profound historical understanding, his ambitious demand of historical fiction that it acclimate to the resounding rigor of hard SF, makes for a cogency of argument, and eloquence of cause and effect as well as style that is extremely impressive.”

  —Locus

  Praise for multiple award–winning author Stephen Baxter

  “What is astonishing is how successfully [Baxter] brings to life a wide range of facts and conjectures, and how entertaining as well as informative this book manages to be.”

  —The New York Times

  “Remarkable…intriguing…fast paced.”

  —The Washington Post

  “Absurdly ambitious, technically brilliant and downright exciting.”

  —SFX

  “Baxter’s latest opus adds to science fiction’s extraordinary body of work pondering the big questions of the nature of the universe and the nature of ourselves.”

  —Sci Fi Weekly

  Time’s Tapestry Books

  EMPEROR

  CONQUEROR

  NAVIGATOR

  WEAVER

  EMPEROR

  TIME’S TAPESTRY BOOK ONE

  Stephen Baxter

  ACE BOOKS, NEW YORK

  THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP

  Published by the Penguin Group

  Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA

  Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.)

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  Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty.) Ltd., 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196, South Africa

  Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  EMPEROR

  An Ace Book / published by arrangement with Orion Books

  PRINTING HISTORY

  Gollancz hardcover edition / 2006

  Ace hardcover edition / January 2007

  Ace mass-market edition / April 2009

  Copyright © 2007 by Orion Books.

  Cover art by Alan Brooks.

  Cover design by Annette Fiore DeFex.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  For information, address: Gollancz,

  an imprint of the Orion Publishing Group,

  Orion House, 5 Upper St. Martin’s Lane,

  London WC2H 9EA, England.

  ISBN: 978-1-101-20891-5

  ACE

  Ace Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group,

  a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

  ACE and the “A” design are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

  10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher, and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”

  Place names

  Banna, Birdoswald

  Caledonia, Scotland

  Camulodunum, Colchester

  Durovernum, Canterbury

  Eburacum, York

  Dolaucothi

  Londinium, London

  Mona, Anglesey

  Rutupiae, Richborough

  Tamesis, R Thames

  Sabrina, R Severn

  Tinea, R Tyne

  Ituna, R Solway

  Cantiaci River, R Medway

  Gesoriacum, Boulogne

  Massilia, Marseilles

  Principal British Nations

  Atrebates

  Brigantia

  Catuvellauni

  Cantiaci

  Durotriges

  Iceni

  Ordovices

  Silures

  Timeline

  55–54BC Julius Caesar’s expeditions to Britain

  4BC Birth of Nectovelin

  c.AD38 Death of Cunobelin

  AD43 Invasion of Britain by Claudius

  AD51 Defeat of Caratacus
>
  AD60–61 Revolt of Boudicca

  AD69–71 Brigantian civil war and annexation

  AD77–84 Agricola’s campaigns in Scotland

  AD122 Hadrian in Britain; construction of Wall begins

  AD193–197 Britain under the rule of Clodius Albinus

  AD208–211 Campaigns of Severus in Scotland

  AD259–274 Britain under the rule of the Gallic Emperors

  AD287–296 Britain under the rule of Carausias and Allectus

  AD296 Invasion of Britain by Constantius Chlorus

  AD306 Constantine the Great elevated in Britain

  AD312 Constantine’s defeat of Maxentius in the west

  AD314 Constantine raises troops in Britain for war with the east

  AD324 Constantine sole emperor, Constantinople founded

  AD337 Death of Constantine

  AD350 Magnentius proclaimed emperor in Britain

  AD367 The Barbarian Conspiracy

  AD378 Roman defeat by Visigoths at Adrianopolis

  AD383 Magnus Maximus proclaimed emperor in Britain

  AD407 Constantine III proclaimed emperor in Britain

  AD409 British Revolution; formal end of Roman rule in Britain

  AD418 Excommunication of Pelagius

  Note on Measurements

  1 Roman foot = 0.96 modern foot = 11.5 modern inches (292 mm)

  1 Roman mile = 0.96 modern mile = 1686 modern yards (1.54 km)

  Oraculum Nectovelinium

  (The Prophecy of Nectovelin, 4BC)

  Aulaeum temporum te involvat, puer, at libertas habes:

  Cano ad tibi de memoriam atque posteritam,

  Omni gentum et omni deorum, imperatori tres erunt.

  Nomabitur vir Germanicus cum oculum hyalum;

  Scandabit equos enormes quam domuum dentate quasi gladio.

  Tremefacabit caelum, erit filius Romulum potens

  Atque graeculus parvus erit. Nascitur deus iuvenus.

  Ruabit Roma cervixis islae in laqueui cautei.

  Emergabit in Brigantio, exaltabitur in Romae.

  Pudor! comprecabit deum servi, sed ispe apparebit deum.

  Ecclesiam marmori moribundi fiet complexus imperii.

  Reminisce! Habemus has verita et sunt manifesta:

  Indico: omnis humanitas factus aequus sunt,

  Rebus civicum dati sunt ab architecto magno,

  Et sunt vita et libertas et venatus felicitae.

  O puer! involvaris in aulaeum temporum, fere!

  The Prophecy of Nectovelin

  (freely translated with acrostic preserved)

  Ah child! Bound in time’s tapestry, and yet you are born free

  Come, let me sing to you of what there is and what will be,

  Of all men and all gods, and of the mighty emperors three.

  Named with a German name, a man will come with eyes of glass

  Straddling horses large as houses bearing teeth like scimitars.

  The trembling skies declare that Rome’s great son has come to earth

  A little Greek his name will be. Whilst God-as-babe has birth

  Roman force will ram the island’s neck into a noose of stone.

  Emerging first in Brigantia, exalted later then in Rome!

  Prostrate before a slavish god, at last he is revealed divine,

  Embrace imperial will make dead marble of the Church’s shrine.

  Remember this: We hold these truths self-evident to be –

  I say to you that all men are created equal, free

  Rights inalienable assuréd by the Maker’s attribute

  Endowed with Life and Liberty and Happiness’s pursuit.

  O child! thou tapestried in time, strike home! Strike at the root!

  Table of Contents

  Prologue: 4 BC

  I

  II

  III

  I: Invader AD 43-70

  I

  II

  III

  IV

  V

  VI

  VII

  VIII

  IX

  X

  XI

  XII

  XIII

  XIV

  XV

  XVI

  XVII

  XVIII

  XIX

  XX

  XXI

  XXII

  XXIII

  XXIV

  XXV

  XXVI

  II: Builder AD 122-138

  I

  II

  III

  IV

  V

  VI

  VII

  VIII

  IX

  X

  XI

  XII

  XIII

  XIV

  XV

  XVI

  XVII

  XVIII

  XIX

  XX

  XXI

  III: Emperor AD 314-337

  I

  II

  III

  IV

  V

  VI

  VII

  VIII

  IX

  X

  XI

  XII

  XIII

  XIV

  XV

  Epilogue: AD 418

  I

  II

  III

  IV

  Afterword

  PROLOGUE

  4 BC

  I

  It was a hard day when Brica’s baby, Cunovic’s nephew, struggled to be born, a hard, long day of birth and death. And it was the day, Cunovic later believed, when the wintry fingers of the Weaver first began to pluck at the threads of the tapestry of time.

  The labour began in the bright light of noon, but the midwinter day was short, and the ordeal dragged on into the dark. Cunovic sat through it with his brother Ban, the child’s father, and the rest of his family. In the smoky gloom under the thick thatched roof, Brica’s mother Sula and the women of the family clustered in the day half of the house, uttering soothing words and wiping Brica’s face with warmed cloths. The watchful faces of the family were like captive moons suspended within the house’s round walls, Cunovic thought fancifully. But as the difficult birth continued Ban grew quietly more agitated, and even the children became pensive.

  The druidh was the only stranger here, the only one not related by blood ties to the unborn child. The priest was a thin man with a light, sing-song accent, which, according to him, emanated from Mona itself, the western island of prayer and teaching, where he claimed to have been born. Now he wandered around the house and chanted steadily, his half-closed eyes flickering. No help to anybody, Cunovic thought sourly.

  It was old Nectovelin, Cunovic’s grandfather, who lost his patience first. With a growl he got to his feet, a mountain of muscle and fat, and crossed the floor. His heavy leather cloak brushed past Cunovic, smelling of blood and sweat and fat, of dogs, horses and cattle, and he limped, favouring his left leg heavily, an injury said to be a relic of the war against Caesar fifty years ago. He stalked out of the house, shoving aside the leather door flap. The other men, who had been sitting quietly in the house’s night half, stood stiffly, and one by one followed Nectovelin out of the door.

  When Ban himself got up Cunovic sighed and followed. Nectovelin was old; he would be the great-grandfather of the child being born tonight. But all Cunovic’s life it had been Nectovelin with his size and power and legacy of youthful combat who had led the family, and especially since the death of his only son, father of Cunovic and Ban. So it was tonight: where Nectovelin led, others followed.

  Outside the night was crisp, cloudless, the stars like shards of bone. The men stood in little groups, talking in low voices, some of them chewing bits of bark. Their breath-steam gathered around their heads like helmets. The dogs, excluded from the house tonight, pulled at their leashes and whined as they tried to get to the men. Even in the frosty cold there was a rich moistness in the air; this was an area of wet moorland.

  Cunovic spotted his br
other standing a little way away from the others, at the edge of the ditch that ringed the little huddle of houses. Cunovic walked over, frost crackling under the leather soles of his shoes.

  The brothers stared out into the stillness. This little community, which was called Banna, stood on a ridge that looked south over a steep-walled wooded valley. There was no moon tonight, but starlight glinted on the waters of the river at the foot of the cliff, and Cunovic could make out the sensuous sweep of the shadowed hills further south. This was the home of the Brigantian nation. In the morning you could see trails of smoke spiralling up from houses studded across a landscape thick with people and their cattle. People had been here a very long time, as you could tell from the worn burial mounds that crowded this cliff edge, amid tangles of ancient trees. But now there was not a light to be seen, for the houses sealed in their light and warmth like closed mouths.

  Cunovic waited until his brother was ready to talk. Ban was only twenty, five years younger than Cunovic himself.

  ‘I’m glad you’re here,’ Ban said at last. ‘I could do with the company.’

  Cunovic was touched. ‘I know I’ve been away a lot. I thought we were growing apart—’

  ‘Never.’

  ‘And besides, I’m not much use. I have no children of my own. I haven’t been through this, not yet.’

  ‘But you’re here,’ Ban said solemnly. ‘As I will be for you. I suppose you miss the comforts of your travels. On a night like this a dip in a pool of steaming water would be welcome.’

  Cunovic grunted. ‘Don’t believe everything you hear. The king of the Catuvellaunians has built himself a bathhouse. He paid through the nose for a Roman architect to design it for him. But the traders from Gaul say that to them it’s no more than a muddy hole where you’d let your pigs wallow. Not that they would say such a thing to the king’s face, of course.’

 

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