Travis Starnes
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The Depths of Neptune - Chapter 4
🕑 Added 2023-03-07 23:07:10 +0000 UTCOver the next week men poured into the capital, more than had migrated even during the original alliance with the Caledonians. Some were previous citizens of the Ulaid or other kingdoms that had fought against the Carthaginians, but most were former subjects of the kingdoms who had joined the Carthaginians instead. Men who’d fought against their new overlords and decided they’d rather be faceless strangers in Rome’s part of the Empire rather than a growing second-class citizenship in their old home.
Ky had already sent a message through the semaphore system, quickly being built in Ériu, asking Llassar to keep an eye on that. It was bound to create homegrown dissidents of their own, but he was a realist. Ky knew that it would take at least a generation for the Ulaid, who’d been brutalized by the kingdoms that had allied with the Carthaginians, to accept them as something even close to equals. The kingdoms that had not joined the Carthaginians, but were instead defeated and suppressed were integrating well, but there were fewer of them than there were former foes. If Conchobar wasn’t careful, he would find himself ruling over a people, the majority of which, were disgruntled and hostile.
On top of the thousands of men from Ériu and migration from Caledonia, which had never stopped entirely, a large number of men and their families continued to emigrate from the continent, with dozens and even hundreds arriving every day, overwhelming the camps set up for them on the coast. Now that Britannia was in complete control of their islands and the seas around them, including the channel, word was spreading of a way to escape Carthaginian oppression.
Although the Praetorians were hard-pressed to interview all of these new arrivals, searching for Carthaginian spies, a nearly impossible task, Velius, who had just returned to Devnum, and Hortensius had a semi-feud going over who should get more of the men looking for opportunities in their new homeland.
Ky was torn. He was grateful for every worker and legionary they could get, but for his plan to work, they needed a large number of locals, especially those with connections to family members who had already emigrated to Britannia, to stay in their homeland. Ultimately, he sided with the Britannian need for manpower and hoped that it wouldn’t throw his plan off too badly. After all, as an immigrant to Rome himself, it would be hypocritical to then deny that same safe haven to others.
Thankfully, he didn’t have to manage the headaches that came with a nation growing so rapidly. Lucilla had taken responsibility for dealing with the new immigrants, both internally and from the continent, leaving Ky to focus on technical matters he, or at least Sophus, was better suited for. His only real complaint was that it kept her so busy that many nights she stayed away from the Capitol, leaving their marriage bed empty. Now that he’d found the companionship he hadn’t known he needed, he was reluctant to let it go, even temporarily.
Sadly, his duties took precedence over his desires, which is why she was at the large camp outside of Cantiacorum, a small settlement that would have been called Canterbury in his time. The immigrants had crossed from what would be near later-day Normandy and was settled by a tribe called the Uenelli in a city near there of the same name. They were supposedly staunch allies of the Carthaginians, as they were conquered not long after Rome itself, which is why Ky hadn’t planned on a landing near that point. His thoughts on that had started to change, however, considering it had become a pipeline from the continent to Britannia. There had been some stories of Carthaginian reprisals against villages along the coastline and an increase in Carthaginian presence, but that hadn’t stopped the flow of immigration.
That was all Lucilla’s problem, however. Ky was on his way to see Hortensius, since the largest part of his plan required a significant increase in the level of Britannian technology. As always, the complex of buildings that made up the largest single chunk of Roman industry was a whirl of men going every which way. To some, it would look like chaos, but Ky saw an intricate dance with supplies flowing from shipment points and through the supply chain as iron became cannons and plows.
Hortensius, who seemed to always see everything in this area, like some Roman-era Merlin, appeared almost as if summoned as soon as Ky entered the main foundry.
“Consul, I’m glad you’re here. I have excellent news,” he said, his indomitable, jovial nature at full force. “We have begun processing the first nitrate beds we laid down and we should be able to begin ramping up our gunpowder production significantly before long.”
“So soon? I didn’t expect them to be ready for months yet?”
“We are pulling these a bit early, so the soil is less enriched than it could be, but we started the process with a heavy concentration of bird droppings which you had mentioned were high in nitrates, which made me think they would help to kick start the process. We’ve already begun leaching the soil we removed and have recycled what was left to start new beds earlier than we planned. Considering how well the levels seem to be doing, I’ve ordered movable coops for pigeons and the like that we can place over new beds when they first start, to hopefully shorten our production timeline. It is … not the most pleasant work and I assure you that you never want to go into those buildings, but it does seem to be effective.”
“I see. Well, that’s good news, because we’re going to need a lot more gunpowder this year to make the next phase of my plan work. I was going to suggest you talk to Llassar and see about getting help from the Ulaid to collect the supplies you need and lay down more beds there.”
“I’ve already sent one of my assistants, who knows about the processes, to them to begin setting up production there, actually,” Hortensius said.
“Excellent. I should have assumed you’d be on top of it.”
“I live to serve,” Hortensius said, with a sarcastic smile.
That was one of the things Ky liked about the manufacturer. He didn’t take things outside of his factories too seriously and rarely stood on ceremony.
“I also wanted to talk to you about moving your foundries and factories. We still have a lot of manual labor in the prison camps that I want to use to support a large industrial area well outside of town.”
“For gunpowder production?”
“Yes, although you relocated them outside of town, as we increase production I’m not sure you moved them far enough, but that isn’t all. Some of the new designs I have for you will be just as dangerous in their own ways. I have a philosopher I will be introducing you to, who will work with you on some of these new chemicals we will produce using the sulfur and nitrate you’re already producing. While you build the new complex, I have designs for new foundries and chemical factories that need large, enclosed vats. Some of these changes are going to be more than can be done by just adding to your existing facilities, which makes this a good time to make the move.”
Ky handed over a stack of the new paper being produced at the paper mills he began setting up months ago. It wasn’t the quality he needed but it was far superior to the time-consuming production of vellum or the unwieldy scrolls previously used. The quality would come in time as the new chemical industry began to come online, and already people were becoming more used to these individual sheets of pulped wood, over pressed reeds and the like previously used as cheap writing material. It had been a difficult struggle to introduce chemistry to the Britannians. Even the word had to be introduced to them, although it had quickly been adopted after the first tests of gunpowder. Thankfully, with Ky’s direction, it was more scientific in nature, without the magical or religious overtones it had in the original medieval history of alchemy, with its focus on trying to create impossible results like turning iron into gold or elixirs that granted unnatural life.
“I see,” Hortensius said, looking over the documents. “These are interesting, but I’m not sure I grasp how they are better than our current foundries, or how these vats are used at all.”
“I know. For now, please build to my specifications. I’ve included some explanations of how these will be used, especially the new foundry design, but they need additional supplies to really make sense. I have immense faith in you, but these things have to be done a step at a time, as each is fairly intricate in its own right. I promise it will all make sense eventually.”
“I, of course, will obey. I hope it didn’t sound too much like I was questioning you. You’ve already shown us so many wonderful things it would be foolish to second-guess you. I have always wanted to know how things work, so it’s difficult to build things without knowing why I’m building them a certain way.”
“I promise you’ll know before long. We just have a lot to do and not long to do it, and the first step is moving all of our production to a centrally located, and controlled, complex.”
“What about workers? That far out of town, it will be difficult for them to walk out each day to work in the factories and foundries, and then walk back. If we’re building there for safety, in case something goes wrong, I’m assuming we don’t want housing built alongside it for our workforce. Losing all of our trained workers, along with the facilities, would make recovering from a disaster that much harder. If they have to walk miles to work every day, they will be exhausted before they even begin, lowering efficiency significantly.”
“That’s a good point. Maybe we need to consider some kind of arrangement to get men and women from the complex back and forth from Devnum. A free service of wagons to haul them back and forth. In time, there will be easier, faster, and cheaper ways to move them, but for now, that would at least leave them rested before they begin working.”
“That’s a lot of wagons, and men and horses needed to drive them.”
“I know. It would be temporary like I said. But the basic setup would work in the meantime.”
“So once again, I’m left to trusting you have this planned out, and must build something when I don’t know what the results will eventually look like.”
“We all have our burdens to bear,” Ky said, placing a hand on the manufacturer’s shoulder.
“Don’t I know it,” Hortensius said, laughing.
***
Dun Ailill, Ériunia
“Where is he?” Llassar asked, shouting over the screams of men and animals.
“There,” the warrior said, pointing to the wooden palisade wall where a ragged group of Ulaid warriors attempted to scale its sides.
Men were falling from arrows and axes, their ladders unable to get a firm grip and easily being pushed away, sending men tumbling to the ground.
“The idiot is going to get himself killed,” Llassar cursed, before turning to Auspex. “If he dies, his father might break the alliance. Give me a cohort.”
“We discussed this. A frontal attack is a waste of men. Now you want to throw legionaries behind this?” Auspex asked, pointing at the wall.
“We don't have time to argue. I know what I agreed to, but the idiot has forced our hand. I will go by myself if I need to; but to save him, I need men.”
Auspex grimaced, since both men knew this went against every bit of military wisdom. All they had to do was wait a week or so for the Consul’s trebuchets to arrive, and they could have reduced the fort without losing a man, but the headstrong prince had hated that plan. No matter how many times Llassar or Auspex tried to explain the wisdom of patience, he continued to demand a frontal assault on the walls.
As soon as Llassar left to confer with the legions, the idiot had taken his two hundred Ulaid guardsmen and made the attack himself, unsupported by the rest of the legions. If he’d been smarter, or at least more strategic, Llassar might have thought this some kind of ploy to force his hand, but he’d spent enough time with the prince to know it wasn’t. The fool had been left unsupervised and, seeing his opportunity, made the attack on his own, believing he could take the walls with his small band. If the two hundred men had been trained legionaries, maybe that would have been possible, but the best of the Ulaid soldiers had died before the Britannians had come to their aid, leaving farmers and herders in armor as the only remaining army the kingdom had. These men had no chance of accomplishing anything but getting the heir to their kingdom killed, and Llassar would be to blame.
He should have known the prince would do something stupid the minute he left him, but he’d thought he’d finally gotten through to the young man, the last time they talked. Clearly, he hadn’t.
“Fine,” Auspex said, before turning over his shoulder. “Gnaeus. Take your men in behind the Ulaid. Scale the wall and, once it’s secured, send up a flag, and we will have two more cohorts follow behind you.”
The man snapped a salute and rode off to his men.
“Where are you going?” Auspex said as Llassar turned his horse to follow Gnaeus.
“With the cohort. If I don’t keep that fool child alive, I’m a dead man anyway, since his father will kill me himself,” Llassar said, and rode off.
In spite of its complete foolhardiness, or maybe because of it, the prince’s men had done much better than Llassar would have thought they could, with several groups already on top of the wall. The problem was there weren’t enough of them. For every one that made it up the wall, ten were dying, meaning those that did make it up would be slaughtered as soon as the fort’s defenders rallied. They’d been caught off guard by the assault, but that wouldn’t last for long. Already, he could see men coming from other sections of the wall to reinforce the breaches.
Equally unfortunately, the prince was one of the people who’d made it to the top of the wall. As he neared the wall, he could see the young man standing near the outer edge, directing men into battle. While it was actually an admirable step up to see him leading men in combat, rather than just wading in headfirst himself, it would have been better if he’d chosen a less precarious place to make that progress in his training.
Llassar had left his horse behind and was following the legionaries, using their shields for as much protection as he could get. Their commander knew his business and had them marching up to the walls covered by their shields, with Llassar crouched in behind the back row, at least partially covered. Men still fell, but it wasn’t many, at least until they got to the walls. The prince's men gave way as the legionaries advanced, but once at the ladders, the formation had to break so men could go up the ladders, which caused the casualties to mount.
“More ladders there and there,” he shouted at the prince’s warriors who were milling at the base of the wall, pointing to sections far down either side, well away from the mass of troops. “Have your men attack there, and come in from either side, so we can clear this side of the wall.”
The four ladders they had up were too close together, which was why they’d been hemmed in so badly helping the men inside the fort counter the numerical differences. Enough of the enemy was on their side of the wall now that those two sections of ladders would face a much harder time gaining a foothold on the ground, and would cost more in lives, however, where men were already fighting up top was making it easier to ascend in that area. Llassar didn't worry about that. While he got no joy from letting men on their side die needlessly, one of these fools should have tried to talk the prince out of going up top himself, where he was effectively cut off from his guards. He’d rather burn their lives getting the prince back out safely than the lives of the higher-trained and disciplined legionaries.
The Ulaid began clearing out, giving the legionaries more room to ascend. In spite of his opinion of the prince going up top to fight, instead of staying below in at least more safety, Llassar wasn’t going to wait below and hope the legionaries could save the wayward prince. He’d come along to get the young fool to safety, and that was what he was going to do. After the first few soldiers started to climb ahead of him, Llassar pushed in front of the next soldier preparing to go up and followed them.
One of the benefits of going behind a legionary is the top one ascended with their shield above them, blocking some of the arrows and swords until they reached near the top. It didn’t stop the man at the top, a Roman, from taking a sword to the face as he tried to go over, nor the man below him from being knocked loose by the body of his falling comrade, but it did clear enough of the way that Llassar was able to get over the edge of the wooden wall before anyone could stop him. He already had his small, one-handed axe ready as he went over, but as soon as his feet touched the parapet, he pulled the gladius he now carried on the other side.
He found the two weapons, one Caledonian and one Roman, worked well together, and wielded one in each hand. Each weapon had its benefits and drawbacks, but Llassar had used both for a while and had a sense of when to attack with one and parry with the other, and when to reverse it. A sense he quickly showed the fort's defenders as sword and axe began to whip around in a dance of death, blocking, parrying and slicing. Men were still falling, but once the first legionnaires got onto the wall, they were able to better control the parapet than the more lightly armored defenders, who were having trouble getting past the large shields.
Arrows from the center of the fort were becoming a problem. The larger area the Britannians controlled, the more the defenders below could fire into them without fear of hitting their comrades.
“Centurion,” Llassar called to a legionnaire behind him as his ax swept down, blocking a thrusting sword, which he repaid using the gladius in his offhand. “Push the ramp down and get men into that courtyard. We need to occupy those archers. And get some arcuballista up here to put counterfire on them.”
“Right,” the Centurion said, busy fighting on his own.
Llassar had worked with the legionaries long enough now to trust their professionalism, and knew they’d take care of it while he fought his way to the prince, who was currently surrounded with only a few of his guards still standing.
Another man fell to his axe, as he began carving his way toward the prince. He was still close enough to the defenders that he at least didn’t have to worry about the archers, but he could hear screams behind him as arrows began finding their marks. He’d only wanted to get the prince to safety, but with things as they were, the safest way to do that seemed to be by taking the fort. It was going to be costly, and already he was losing more well-trained men, but their victory was never in doubt.
Stabbing one last defender in the back, as he tried to engage the prince's guard, Llassar was finally through. He pushed legionnaires past him and the prince to form an actual defense on the other side, allowing him to fully assess the battle.
Gnaeus was still below, directing men up the ladders, and the Centurion he tasked with moving the attack below had done his job well. A squad of legionaries was already in the courtyard below, moving towards the archers, who were either fleeing or pulling swords to defend themselves with once they realized how effective the Roman-style shields were in protecting the advancing soldiers. One of the benefits of the Romans never having attempted to colonize this island was that the inhabitants were not used to facing legionary tactics like his own people were. There were ways to counter the Roman formations, but blindly throwing arrows into the large shields was not one of them.
The Britannians almost had equal numbers to the fort's defenders now, and with their better coordination, it would not take long for the fort to fall. Already, one group had pushed past the chaos where the last of the prince's guards had tried to scale the wall further down and were making the turn to begin assaulting the southern-facing wall.
“See, I told you we could take this fort,” the young man said, smiling as he finally got the combat he desired.
It took all of his self-control not to throw the young fool off the parapet.
“Of course we could,” Llassar said, barely controlling his rage. “That wasn’t the point. This position is meaningless. There weren’t enough defenders here to pose a real threat to our army as we march on Queen Medb’s capital. Auspex had already tasked a century to stay behind and ensure these men stayed cooped up inside this fort. They would have had the choice to either starve or surrender, either of which would have allowed us to take this place with few, if any, losses.”
“You’re the one who keeps talking about how we need to secure my father’s lands quickly.”
“And this is slowing us down. We are going to lose an entire day on this idiocy. We could have detached the century and marched past hardly breaking stride. You’ve cost us men and time and gained us absolutely nothing.”
“My men are restless. They want glory as much as yours, and warriors fall in combat. It’s a noble death.”
“It’s a stupid death. You haven’t ever spoken to any of the legionaries. If you had, you would have known they are not warriors. The Consul has a word for what they are. Soldiers. They aren’t here to wreath themselves in glory and aren’t looking for one-on-one combat on the field of battle. You’ve marched with us, and even watched these men fight, but somehow you still have seen nothing. Look at them.”
Llassar pointed at the large group of legionaries that had gathered, cutting down the last of the fort's defenders as they spoke. Once the Britannians had broken through the defenders and gotten a foothold on the courtyard below, things had moved rapidly as the defenses crumbled and the remaining locals rallied to the center for one last stand.
“It isn’t hard to kill a handful of men,” the prince said, looking down at the carnage.
“Which is exactly what I am telling you. You are looking at them, but you aren’t seeing anything. Had it been you down below, you would have charged the defenders, yes? You would have almost certainly won, but you would have lost another dozen men, or maybe more, in the chaos of the melee. Look at the legionnaires. Even though victory is assured, they maintain their lines and hold to their discipline. It took me a long time to realize the value of this kind of fighting and how poorly our ways served us, but I learned. And now you also need to learn. This isn’t a game, and the goal isn’t to cover yourself in personal glory. We are in a fight for our survival and this is just a friendly competition compared to the battle that waits for us on the continent. If you want to command men, you have to stop acting like a child and begin to see things as a leader. That starts with not throwing the lives of your men away needlessly because you are bored.”
He knew the prince was listening, because he grimaced at the last statement, but the young man’s attention was on the now nearly finished battle below. The legionaries had made short work of the defenders, surrounding them, shields up, pushing and stabbing the men who wildly tried to find some way to survive. There had been maybe forty men left below when the legionary began to form, all of whom were now dead.
In contrast, the legion lost just five men. It had been a pointless and unnecessarily costly victory. Llassar just hoped the prince would learn the lesson he was trying to teach him before he got himself killed.
Comments
Thomas Corbin
I love it when they build up a more technical based society
