“You speak of iron cannons!” Arbogast said. He was among those who witnessed a demonstration of the machine guns in Sirmium where Gratian had pitched his camp. And the effects of the cannonade of the Saarbrücken before Thessaloniki had visibly impressed him.
“Actually, I speak of steel guns,” von Geeren corrected him. “Unfortunately, we don’t produce the steel in sufficient quantities. But we are working on it. We need field artillery to control a broad front section. The Huns are extremely fast and agile; their troops consist almost entirely of cavalry. We have to adapt to this way of fighting.” Von Geeren paused and took a sip of wine. He twisted his mouth, because the drink had become cold and the sour taste fully pierced his taste buds. “Our biggest problem is that we don’t know exactly where the Huns reside at this time, in which direction they are moving and at what speed.”
“We have spent some time to ask the Goths we’ve beaten before Thessaloniki, as well as their Hunnish allies. I don’t know how literally we can take the testimony of these people, because they tend to describe time and distance rather vague. We also have instructed our border troops to gather information from the neighboring nations, but even here the quality of information is varying. Therefore, this big red arrow.”
Von Geeren paused again. His long speech in Latin cost a lot of time, because he was still fighting with the language despite all of his studies. When his audience now and then grimaced or indulgently smiled, he knew that he had deviated once again in terms of grammar and vocabulary. On the other hand, these discussions could not wait until he had perfected his language skills.
“So we will send a fact-finding mission,” he continued. “We are going to proceed as follows. Several larger units from 100 to 1,000 men advance fan-shaped into the eastern areas to explore. The largest units are reinforced with our infantrymen to probably gain tactical experience in fighting Hun riders. To ensure the protection of these men and their precious equipment, we must also send with them a significant number of legionaries. But we will all proceed as cavalrymen – our mission must be fast and mobile.”
“And then?” Arbogast asked.
“From the main body of our reconnaissance teams, we will widely send single spies, so we can cover a significant territory. This is especially important if it turns out that our assumption about the position of the Huns is wrong. We must be able to find them without fail.”
“Why can’t we equip the entire scouting mission with your powerful firearms? I’ve heard that your people are already working with the artisans of the Empire to build a corresponding factory,” one of the officers unknown to von Geeren asked.
“To build the factory is not the problem,” he said patiently. “We have conducted experiments with a rifle, which we call ‘musket’. The results are indeed very satisfactory. But the weapon is inferior to the Hunnish bow in firing speed, range and accuracy. Equipping the legionaries with these muskets wouldn’t have any positive effect. Better to take a unit of experienced archers. Our people are working on an improved version, with a rifled barrel and cartridges specially manufactured, and a double-barreled version, which should be equipped with a magazine. This requires large forgings and craftsmanship, and those few men who are actually capable of doing so are simultaneously engaged with the steam engines, shipbuilding and the construction of the bombards and steam catapults that are the new ships armament.”
Von Geeren made an apologetic gesture. “We are working as intensely as we can. But what we’re attempting here is ultimately a revolution of a technical nature. This requires, despite all the support of the Emperor, its time. By the way, we also try to teach the Roman craftsmen and masters to become teachers themselves, so that they actually can help to kickstart production on a wider scale. But until then, a lot needs to be done. I’m sure that we will eventually be able to provide larger parts of any legion with new weapons. But that is not enough: These troops must be well-trained. New weapons require new tactics, and these are very different from those they have been accustomed to. The challenge is immense.”
“The challenge is immense, indeed,” Arbogast repeated nodding, “and we don’t have enough time. It is the year 379. If the historical information which we have received from our friends from the future is correct, the Huns will be not long in coming. The decisive battle occurred in 451, but previously to that, various Germanic tribes will have conquered Spain and North Africa, and Gaul is in great danger, too. We know about these things, and the victory over the Goths at Thessaloniki has already established a very important deviation from history, so that we now have a different starting position. But as long as the pressure of the Huns to the various nations of the East is so massive, the only valve for fleeing peoples will be a weak Rome, and this is our end, if we don’t take pressure out of the boiler.” Arbogast smiled at this phrase of the Germans that he had made his own.
“Then there is agreement about our plan?” von Geeren asked. Arbogast was absolutely right when he said that time was short. Theodosius, the supreme commander of the East, had listened to the explanations in silence. Von Geeren couldn’t quite make sense of the man, the Spaniard had to know that he was actually been chosen by history to become emperor. But the haunting portrayal of the devastation that had been done in Spain by the Vandals obviously had left its mark on this man. He may have his flaws, but love for his homeland he didn’t lack – nor military expertise. He accepted what was needed, at least that’s what the German hoped for.
“We have already started preparations,” Arbogast continued. “The Emperor has given appropriate instructions. We pull the best men from all legions. We look for individuals who don’t shy away from the rigors and are cunning at the same time, no stupid blockheads who cannot think. They should be young and still have combat experience but not old veterans who are no longer willing to learn something new. You must be able to ride well or be able to learn it quickly. This is an almost impossible combination, so we cannot grant voluntary assignment – everyone who is capable must go. As a reward beckons early promotion, additional pay and all the loot that can be found on the way. The goal is to break camp immediately; the snow is thawing.”
Von Geeren nodded. Arbogast had invested a lot of time in this project. It was largely thanks to his support that things were developing fast, sometimes even without a formal decision of this august body.
“When will Rheinberg arrive in Treveri?” Theodosius asked.
“In a few days,” von Geeren said.
“In addition to this mission, another problem appears to be very urgent,” the commander of the East said. “We have to take care of Maximus and Andragathius.”
Everyone looked at the Spaniard in silence. They knew the historical development as it had been reported to them by Rheinberg. The revolt of Maximus, the Comes Britanniarum, against Gratian. How Andragathius, Maximus’ general, had fraudulently enticed Gratian behind his lines and then murdered him, only to commit suicide two years later, as Theodosius finally managed to defeat the usurper Maximus. It was for the Spaniard certainly not easy to imagine a historical course that would never happen like this, an alternative timeline, where he had played a major historical role. Nevertheless, the revolt of Maximus was no coincidence. The first signs had to be visible by now. Theodosius was almost more eager than Gratian to eliminate this danger. In that other history, he hadn’t been able to prevent the death of Gratian. Whatever he thought of the decision by the young man not to appoint him Emperor of the East, and to rule the Empire alone, at least until further notice, Theodosius was still a deeply loyal man. The idea of a betrayal was foreign to him and didn’t correspond to his character, at least this was what everyone said.
A quick temper with a propensity for rapid and ill-considered decisions, but nothing worse. And that was well known and the reason why many of those present were cautious with their reaction.
“The Emperor hasn’t made a decision in this regard,” von G
eeren reminded them and was happy that he wasn’t more than Rheinberg’s deputy. He was able to pass on problems like this one to the Magister Militium, without having to justify it. “It seems as if he wants to give Maximus a chance. The Comes had initiated the uprising because Gratian had become increasingly unpopular, not least in the military. He had withdrawn more and more from the affairs of the Empire and had started a habit of hunting, accompanied by his Alanian archers, whose loyalty he had bought with a lot of gold but who would, at the end, betray him. Rheinberg has made Gratian aware of these mistakes very forcefully, and Ausonius, his old teacher, supported him. The Emperor has recognized where his wrongdoing would lead him and consequently renounced this course of action.”
“That’s right,” Malobaudes replied thoughtfully. “I saw him rarely more serious and diligent. To become aware of one’s possible future, even with a violent death by ignominious betrayal, can initiate profound changes in a person.”
All eyes turned briefly to Theodosius, who threw a smile in the round. “My own ignominious death has quite touched me,” he said, “as well as the idea that I’ll be the last emperor of all of Rome – and that my dear son, the little Honorius, would be a failure on the throne. I also don’t particularly appreciate this course of history, and if I can help to change it, then I’ll do that. And that’s why it’s my goal to smother any danger right from start. If Gratian wants to give Maximus a chance to change his ways and to not to evoke the indignation that leads the Comes to revolt, that may be a solution to the problem. But I suggest being cautious and to transfer Maximus to a respectable administrative post without military power – and Andragathius right with him, for he who carries the seed of betrayal in himself, might seek its blossom irrespective of a potential leader.”
Von Geeren recognized from the facial expressions and gestures of some of the officers that Theodosius’ attitude quite caught on among them.
“Discuss this with Rheinberg,” the Spaniard asked him in a friendly tone. “And with the Emperor, because ultimately it’s his decision. We can only act within the framework of our commands.” He hesitated for a moment. He wanted to add something, but he wasn’t sure whether the commander or one of the others present would take that as an insult or indirect accusation. Nevertheless, he decided to say it, because it was strongly on his mind. “I need to point out something once again and would ask you not to misunderstand,” he began cumbersomely. “As you know, we have details about the possible future – the future that we brought from our time – of which we haven’t reported everything to everyone. Among us, we have disclosed nearly all of it, but most of the administration and the military hierarchy only knows of our concern with respect to what we call ‘Völkerwanderung’, our understanding of the economic problems of the Empire and our attitude in regard to religious controversy.”
“That was already more than enough for good Ambrosius,” Arbogast muttered.
Von Geeren nodded. Since the Germans were held in high esteem by Gratian, the bishop of Milan had kept a low profile – too low for Rheinberg’s taste, who had advised his deputy at court to look especially after the cleric and to report anything suspicious immediately. “What is not generally known, and where we have insisted on an oath of silence from everyone, are the details about the role of Maximus and Andragathius. We want to avoid not only prejudice but also a panic among the population, which will certainly feel little joy for the reforms of the Emperor if they entail a possible civil war. I need you, therefore, to ask everyone again quite urgently to keep silent on this matter indefinitely.”
“Tribune von Geeren,” Theodosius replied immediately. “I have made this oath and will follow it. But let’s be honest with each other: Too many people have already heard too much. Two of your own crew are untraceable, they disappeared after the mutiny failed. And Ambrosius … as much as I respect him as a man of the church, it is clear that he harbors a grudge against you but also against many of the things Rheinberg has reported.” He shook his head. “It wouldn’t surprise me if Maximus already knows about his possible fate. It also wouldn’t be surprising if he has teamed up with Ambrosius to promote his plans. I don’t want to dismiss the Comes as a lost case yet, but we have to be tremendously attentive.”
“My father, a faithful servant of the former emperor Valentinian, was betrayed and killed by the Empire, being the victim of a court intrigue. Once a celebrated military leader and hero, he was judged without mercy or consideration. I have carried this resentment with me for a long time and acknowledge that Gratian has recently called me up to ask for forgiveness in regard to what has been done to my family. I don’t want anything like that to happen to other people as well. No person without actual sin should be prosecuted, especially not based on mere assumptions. But this is about the existence of the Empire. If we accept that those future threats exist, all the things we have just discussed, we shouldn’t take any chances.”
He fixed von Geeren with a steady glance, as if to hypnotize him. It was clear that the Spaniard cared about this issue, and he certainly struggled with himself, wanting to do the right thing. Von Geeren knew the story of his father, who had also been called Theodosius, and it had been tragic enough, as his son had just called into mind.
Von Geeren just nodded. “The decision of the Emperor,” was his simple answer. “Explain your arguments to him. But I know Gratian now good enough that I can quite guess his answer ‘Bring evidence. Bring evidence that even in this time Maximus is willing to buy the purple with violence.’ Only then he will agree to release him from office or to take other action against him.”
“However, I must concur with Theodosius,” Malobaudes raised his voice. The Frankish noble and old general had almost been the biggest advocate for resolute action against Maximus alongside the Spaniard. “We’re beating around the bush! Loyalty here, gossip there, let’s be clear that the seed of betrayal grows in Maximus, whether it blossoms now or later. We have to act.”
“The Emperor decides!” von Geeren repeated. “And you, General, will shortly be on your way to Nemetacum to observe possible activities in Britain.”
The Frank snorted. “I cannot do much more than send agents to Britain and hope that they are not detected by Maximus or even turned by his promises. But yes, I’ll have a thorough look at him. and if I recognize the slightest irregularity, then we have to grab him fast, hard and without mercy!”
The Spaniard nodded. “Well, General, very good. I’m sure that we can make the necessary preparations immediately! A force to be ready to overthrow Maximus, once we have the slightest hint …”
“The decision is with the Emperor,” von Geeren repeated again, a little tired. “The general is to keep his eyes open, yes, but Gratian is in charge of possible consequences deriving from these observations.”
Theodosius raised his hands in a fatalistic gesture. It was his sense of loyalty that made him accept this statement without further discussion.
Arbogast looked around. “Then we agree. Once the list of the proposals for specific targets of our scout mission is fully available, we start immediately with the final assessment and provisioning of the troops. I myself will be in overall command as soon as the Emperor confirms me officially, and I’ll make the trip to the East but not alone. Forty of our time-travelling friends will accompany us. The troops will be provided with the best horses and much supplies. We need quick results to develop a strategy against the Huns, a strategy that is consistent and rational, based on reliable information.” He paused for effect and to give anyone of those present the opportunity to add something, but no one spoke. “Then we will continue this conversation when the list exists and Rheinberg has arrived in Treveri.”
The meeting was officially over. Von Geeren gathered his few utensils very slowly, as it often happened that someone took him aside after the end of the official meeting to discuss a detail. But when the officers left the room, only Theodosius remained, with
a cup of hot wine in one hand. He looked thoughtfully into the flames of the fireplace, which slaves had just fanned. Von Geeren also poured himself a cup and settled silently beside him.
“I wouldn’t be a very good emperor,” the Spaniard said abruptly. “My temper is too often in my way. I have heard of the story in Thessaloniki, in your past and my future, where I have put thousands of citizens to death, only because of a sudden anger. This casts a shadow on my character, Tribune.”
“It will not become like that,” soothed von Geeren. “This massacre won’t happen.”
Theodosius nodded. “Yes, that’s true. But I cannot dismiss this. I know myself well enough to come to the conclusion that I’m well capable of this kind of atrocity. It’s in me, Tribune. When I heard the story for the first time, I was neither shocked nor full of disbelief. I knew immediately that I’m that kind of person and could act like that if no one keeps me in check.” Theodosius smiled thinly. “It is difficult to control an emperor, if he is sufficiently stubborn. I realize now how important it is to have advisers who are willing to express their own opinion, even if it differs from that of the ruler on important issues. When I think of the abolition of forced recruitment into the army! Free choice of occupation will be introduced and the tax exemption for Church properties is about to be abolished. The Edict is confirmed. No grinding of the Victoria altar in the Senate. A monetary reform and restructuring of government debt. The end of the exemption for the great senatorial families. Oh, the outcry! Gratian alone would never have arrived at these ideas, and I certainly would’ve not. I would have thought of any proposal in this direction as an absurdity.”
Passage Page 4
