Travis Starnes
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The Sands of Saturn - Chapter 12
🕑 Added 2022-09-29 17:25:30 +0000 UTCAs the sun came up, she was back in the city, still smudged from the ash that had fallen on her for hours. It had been a close thing, but Hortensius’s precautions had worked and none of the other buildings had gone up in the resulting fires. Hortensius was another matter. He’d been unconscious with blood coming from his ears and nose when Cynwrig and Modius dragged him clear of the structure, his clothing scorched black from how close he’d been to the heat of the explosion. He had just been lucky enough to be thrown clear by the blast of hot air, Sophus had called it a blast wave and over-pressurization, words she didn’t recognize, rather than be engulfed by it.
She stayed at the site, directing firefighting efforts, for several hours after the manufacturer had been put in a cart and taken to the physicians. Losing the factory was going to set them back, but they hadn’t lost any of the stores that had already been moved out, so it wasn’t going to be a disaster. After they discussed taking precautions to limit the danger of the gunpowder accidentally igniting, Hortensius had a series of buildings built, or purchased, around the city for holding the gunpowder. The buildings next to the factory were just for holding the gunpowder until they could be emptied into the more spread-out buildings, usually only a day or two’s worth, so even losing the closer buildings would have only lost them a day or two worth of production.
Of course, they didn’t know what caused the explosion. After the fire in the warehouse that had held the arcuballista, it was something to be concerned about. The senators had been worried that the influx of refugees should be a way for the Carthaginians, or people who still supported the failed insurrection, to get agents inside the empire’s critical works, where they could do something to damage it. Most of the people working in the gunpowder factories didn’t really understand what it was for, but they’d know it was destined for the military and the level of effort the empire was putting into it. She’d ordered the praetorians to double the guards on the warehouses around town, just in case.
Regardless of the reason, the loss of the factory and the raw materials that had been gathered there was going to be a problem, especially the nitrate, which they were already having trouble collecting. The biggest loss of the night was Hortensius, whose death would set the empire back in every area of its technological expansion. There were other inventors and manufacturers in the city, but none that matched Hortensius in his ability to quickly grasp and work out how to turn Ky’s instructions into reality. His loss would be devastating.
That was why, in spite of being awake for almost twenty-four hours and exhausted after the excitement of the evening, she made her way to the valetudinaria, a series of buildings near the center of town for treating the most injured soldiers from their battles with the Carthaginians. Although Hortensius wasn’t a veteran, he was critical to the war effort and the valetundinaria was the best collection of medics and healers in the city.
While she agreed with bringing him here, she’d had Sophus in her ear long enough that her faith in contemporary medical treatment was shaken. In her visits to wounded soldiers, it had several times pointed out places where the healers were doing things that would ultimately make the soldier’s wounds worse. Between herself and Ky, they’d been working on correcting a lot of these issues, although not without pushback from the physicians, who were still incredibly slow to adopt any of the changes.
In spite of their resistance, they had been making progress and death from diseases that set in after their treatment had lessened. While the progress had been amazing, Ky was still not happy with how slow it had been and the lack of success in the apothecaries in developing treatments. That again showed how critical Hortensius had been to the empire. There was no figure like him in other industries like farming, shipbuilding or alchemy. Before Ky’s arrival, developing something like gunpowder would have gone to the alchemist instead of a factory owner, but Ky had decided that it was critical enough they needed someone like Hortensius leading its development, and since Hortensius was, so far at least, one of a kind in the empire, it had gone to him, even though the combining of elements in precise measurements to create a new mixture was somewhat out of his element.
Ky had said several times that, eventually, the apothecaries would come up with medicines that could cure many of the diseases men were still dying from after receiving injuries on the battlefield, but for now they were limited to what he called ‘more general cures.’ This had mostly been a strong push for cleanliness when dealing with wounds. Things like boiling bandages and instruments before reusing them, scrubbing the hands vigorously with a lye-based soap that burned the skin and then not touching anything else before touching the wound, and regularly cleaning wound sites.
To his credit, in the places where this was being practiced, which included the valetudinaria, since he could get the veterans to force the medics to follow his policies, the instance of infections after setting bone or removing debris was significantly lessened. The medics at the valetudinaria, at least, were starting to learn from experience and stopped fighting so hard against Ky’s decrees.
She made sure to visit the tents and buildings of the valetudinaria every few days, when she was in Devnum, to try and cheer up the soldiers and every time, the smell of the place hit her like a slap in the face. A mixture of rotting flesh and harsh lye from the soap made her eyes burn a bit as she pushed through the tent. As the daughter of the emperor, she had made trips to see injured soldiers even before Ky’s arrival, and she had to admit the smell was at least better now, although the air hadn’t burned as much before the introduction of the new soap Ky had instructed the apothecary to make. Then, the smell had been almost entirely that of puss and decaying flesh, so at least the acrid smell of the soap covered some of that up.
She greeted several soldiers who were still recovering that she had met on her last several visits before getting to the back of the tent where they had put Hortensius with one of the physicians in tow. He looked bad. Bruises had already started to appear across his face and neck, and probably elsewhere, covered by his tunic and a blanket.
“How is he?” she asked the physician.
“Alive. His breathing is bad. When he sleeps it comes as a rasping sound. I have seen similar things with horse kicks and items that have fallen on men’s chests. Sometimes they recover, but often they begin coughing and suffocate.”
“Is there any treatment for this?”
“No.”
She had addressed the doctor, but she was actually asking Sophus, since she knew her own people couldn’t do much about a person whose chest had caved in. She had seen a man kicked in the chest by a horse, the force strong enough to cause him to die right there, gasping for air. His chest had been almost concave, bending inward, like the bones had been warped and bent in. She couldn’t see any evidence of that here, so she hoped there wasn’t anything actually pushing his chest in, keeping him from breathing.
“There are treatments, but none possible at this time that wouldn’t increase the risk to the patient. From an acoustical analysis, I believe the blast at the factory was not large enough to cause air embolization or Pneumothorax, as most of the blast was directed upwards thanks to the series of concrete barriers built around the building to cause just such an effect. Being outside the building allowed him to be spared the brunt of the over-pressurization. The body can heal most of the damage, but the lungs need to maintain oxygen to give the body time for that to happen. Without imaging devices, it’s impossible to tell what level of damage he has received, but the physician is correct, in that his breathing is labored and suggestive of damage. Theoretically, it is possible to build a device that could introduce low levels of oxygen into his respiratory system, simulating proper pressurization, allowing him time to recover. The device would have to be manually operated, which will be difficult and time-consuming, but it should allow his system time to heal itself. For the burns, they should continue to apply clean bandages wetted with a highly diluted vinegar solution.”
She listened to Sophus describe the device that needed to be built and realized the irony of Hortensius being better qualified to build the device that would be needed to save him. She kept her face looking neutral, staring at her friend, as she tried to work out exactly how to draw what Sophus was describing.
Finally, she straightened up and said, “For now, continue doing what you’re doing. Make sure any bandages used to soak in the vinegar solution are first boiled and allowed to dry clear of any other items before they are applied. For his breathing, I will have a device I want you to build and will instruct you in the proper use of it. It will require someone to operate it constantly, at all hours of the day, but I will find men to operate it under your guidance and pay for them myself.”
“What does this device do?”
“It very slowly pushes air into his chest, keeping it inflated and working while his body heals itself. It might not work, but it will increase his chances of survival.”
The physician looked skeptical, as they often did when being told of a new life-saving method that went counter to their training. Ky, at least, they could accept. He’d been sent down by the gods, after all. She, however, was 'just a woman.'
“I will be leaving one of my guards here. You will build this device exactly to my specifications, and you will keep it operating at all times until I give you permission to stop, or he regains consciousness. Is this clear?”
She didn’t raise her voice or yell, but she’d learned to speak with a commanding presence from her father, and only used it when she needed to be taken seriously. She used it now, and saw the man take a step back in spite of himself.
“Cynwrig. Stay here and make sure they do as instructed.”
The look her guard gave her made it clear he wasn’t thrilled about being left behind, but he only said, “Sure.”
Unlike the Romans, who treated her with a formality, Cynwrig never said ‘my lady’ or added honorifics when speaking to her. He often incurred Modius’s ire when he addressed her by name or ‘little bird,’ the Caledonian nickname she picked up, but she didn’t mind. She liked the way that he, and the other Caledonians, treated her with more informal respect that was often more genuine than the performative one used by many Romans.
She picked him to stay behind because she knew how he and her other Caledonian guards felt about her. Not that she distrusted her Roman guards, but for this, she wanted an enthusiasm that the Romans generally couldn’t duplicate.
Since she was in the city, she returned to the palace to draw the instructions for the device, since it would take a continual back and forth with Sophus to ensure it was correct, and there wasn’t any place she could guarantee she’d be left alone and out of earshot so she could talk to herself.
After almost two hours of painstakingly writing instructions and drawing diagrams, she handed the instructions to Cynwrig, who assured her he could find trustworthy men to operate the device. She trusted him enough to do as good of a job getting the device built and keeping it operated that, after handing the instructions off, she was finally able to get rest after the long, disastrous evening.
***
Outside Londinium
“You sent for me?” Ky said as he entered the tent assigned to Bomilcar.
The general was looking better. According to his guards, he was even able to get out of his bed several times, moving around unsteadily as his body slowly healed. Ky had been happy to hear about the man’s recovery, but even more satisfying was the man’s request to see him.
Although Ky visited him nearly every day, this was the first time the Carthaginian had reached out to see Ky, and was a sign that their relationship might be at a turning point. While he liked the man and thought he was a solid military commander, what Ky wanted most of all was insight into the Carthaginians.
So far, he’d guessed their movements based on what the Romans could tell him about the Carthaginians they had dealt with on the island. That insight would change once the last of the Carthaginians were expelled, however. Ramirus had some sources outside of Britannia, but not nearly as many as he had here, which left them more in the dark about how the Carthaginians might respond to moves by his people. Bomilcar had not only been a high-ranking general, involved in numerous campaigns, and from a family with a long history of service to the Carthaginian Empire, he was the only one that the Carthaginians had wronged to the point that he’d be willing to use that history to help the Britannians.
Although their reasons for making Bomilcar their scapegoat was obvious, Ky wondered if they’d ever considered the possible side effects of their decision. They knew their proclamation that Bomilcar had been in league with the Britannians was a lie, but did they realize that their murder of his family might do the very thing they’d accused him of?
It had been several days since Ky had given the man the bad news, and since then, the general had not spoken a word, leaving Ky to take both sides of the conversation on his next visits. Ky had worried that the news and his own failure to defeat the Britannians had driven the man into some kind of fugue state, since he’d all but gone catatonic, barely even registering Ky’s presence during his visits.
This request to see him was the first sign of life they’d had since he’d shut down, which made it all the more surprising.
“You’re going to have trouble with the northern walls. I ordered them fortified before we marched out, including anti-ladder precautions. You’ll have trouble going over the north wall,” Bomilcar said, not making eye contact as he spoke.
“That’s interesting, but do you understand what you’re doing?” Ky asked.
Although he’d been working for this moment since his first visit, Ky understood about a soldier’s loyalty. Between Ramirus and the drone, he already had good information about what was happening inside Londinium. His work on Bomilcar went further than just intel for one city. He needed the man ready to walk away from everything he’d believed, not just give up some information in a fit of anger.
“I am betraying my allegiance to the empire; but in my defense, they betrayed me first.”
“You know by siding with us, you’re becoming exactly what they accused you of. They will find a way to take revenge.”
“I have no one and nothing left I care about, and I’m not doing it just because of their betrayal. I’m not a fool. I’ve served the empire a long time and I’ve seen the things that we’ve done. I accepted them, because that was where my family’s allegiance lay, but I never liked what we did. They have killed everything that kept me true to them, in the name of saving face. If I can’t honor my family name, I can at least keep my personal honor by finally standing by what’s right.”
“You understand this doesn’t mean my people will accept you with open arms. You led an army intended to crush us. I know you would have treated the towns you captured fairly, but the men who came behind you wouldn’t have, and my people won’t see a difference between you and them.”
“I know, and I’m not asking them to. I just want to help put right some of the things I ruined in my life by serving the empire.”
“Okay. Then I will gladly accept your help.”
“About the walls …”
“It’s okay. We don’t plan on going over the walls.”
“Really? You’re going to let the city stand? You have to know they’ll keep your men tied up or harass your supply lines as long as the city remains, and it gives the empire a place to focus on and a base of supply if they can open a pathway to it.”
“We aren’t going to let the city stand. Within a month, the city will fall.”
“If you aren’t going to go over the walls, how are you going to take the city?”
“Unfortunately, here is where the not trusting you part starts. I know you’re captive and have no way of sharing the plans with anyone, but for now, I’m still not going to be able to tell you. Once it’s over, I’ll let you in on how we did it. Fair enough?”
“I guess this is going to be harder than I thought.”
“You’ll manage. Now, about the armies on the continent …”
Ky spent the next several hours trying to get as much information out of the general as he could. Much of his information would be out of date by the time they were able to exploit it, but things like supply routes would be harder for such a large, interconnected empire to change quickly. As for the rest, he’d get the information to Ramirus, and make the general available to him. He had confidence that the Spymaster would be able to make something of the information.
***
“…the praetorians are still investigating, so no word if this was an accident or deliberate.”
“You said you had guards on the factory.”
“I did, but only two, since we also had to have a guard on every warehouse as well. It wouldn’t have been that hard to get around them.”
“I’m still not sure this was the act of insurrectionists. This is wildly volatile and even keeping open flame out of the buildings and windows open for ventilation, it would only take one spark to set it all off. The most likely culprit is the grinding wheel itself. A downside of using the water wheel for both water and the mechanism to turn the grinder is that, if you cut off the water flow, it will stop flowing before the water wheel is locked down. Hortensius likes a tidy factory and when the wheel stopped turning, the water wouldn’t wind down the drainage channel and would pour onto the floors instead. He might have cut the water flow before turning off the water wheel to keep that from happening, which would allow the water flow to stop but the wheel to continue for a few minutes. It’s just a guess and there are twenty or thirty other things that could have caused a spark. There were factory workers, people loading and moving the barrels. Any of them could have spilled gunpowder or left some exposed. ”
“It seems like a stretch,” Lucilla said.
“I think what the Commander is getting at is very few people knew of the project itself. He never explained to the people working on it what it did, other than it was combustible, and the workers in the factory were well vetted. It is doubtful any insurrectionists would know about its military application and go after it to hurt the war effort. Especially when there are other, more immediate targets to strike, like the forges working on weapons for the efforts in Ériu.”
“Also, the gunpowder would have gone up instantly, as soon as the fire was thrown inside. There was no real way to set it off covertly. I guess someone could have thrown a torch in through the window, but you were looking right at the building and didn’t see anything. Hortensius was just outside the building when it went off, and you saw what it did to him. It knocked down everything in a pretty wide radius of the building. You even said you felt the force of the wind from the explosion, and you were still pretty far away when it happened. I find it unlikely anyone who got close enough would have come away uninjured. Did you find anyone around the building that shouldn’t be there?”
“No, we didn’t find anyone.”
“It was smart moving the factory out of town, and even smarter spreading the finished gunpowder in separate locations. It means we don’t have to start over completely.”
“That was mostly Hortensius. I only pointed out how dangerous it was to keep it in the city. He was the one who thought we should keep it all separate and made it happen.”
“How is he?”
“I don’t know. He’s breathing better with the machine Sophus had us build, although he hasn’t woken up yet.”
“From Lucilla’s description, he seems to have avoided the worst possible outcomes from the explosion. When they were building the new factory, I’d recommended the building be designed with blast diversion in mind, to redirect the force of any explosion upward, which helped keep most of the overpressure from hitting him. Barring brain injury, he should be able to recover with the assistance, as long as positive pressure can be maintained to give his lungs time to recover.”
“Good,” Ky said. “Losing him would really set us back. None of us have the practical experience to turn our theories into actual process here and now.”
“I know, and I’m sorry,” Lucilla said.
“For what?”
“You left me in charge of running this, and I almost got Hortensius killed.”
“Nonsense. Even in societies that are used to working with gunpowder, this sometimes happens. You made sure we didn’t lose everything and took sensible precautions. We need to rebuild the factory. He had people do it once, so have them build it the same, but maybe reinforce it more than before. Talk to his foreman. Once it’s back up, see if he can manage keeping the production going. Hopefully, he’s trained his people to run things without him holding their hands.”
“I’ll take care of it,” Lucilla said.
“You’re doing good work, Lucilla. Sometimes we have setbacks. Don’t take it to heart, okay?”
“I’ll try.”
