Travis Starnes
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The Sands of Saturn (Imperium #3) - Chapter 1
🕑 Added 2022-07-15 00:59:08 +0000 UTCOutside Londinium
“Launch!” the Roman optio screamed at the men gathered around the trebuchet.
Pulling a rope releasing the counterweight, the huge arm and its sling-like appendage rose up, the wooden frame groaning under the weight and forces applied to it, sending the large stone sitting in the sling sailing towards the walls in the distance.
The small boulders crashed into the city wall, sending stone and dirt sailing out in all directions before the entire impact site was obscured by a cloud of dust. When the cloud cleared, nothing had changed.
Ky watched without comment as the crews moved over the five completed siege weapons, pulling ropes and turning wheels to reset the machines for another launch. Although it had been happening less often the longer he was stuck here, Ky was suddenly struck by the oddity of his situation.
Here he was a soldier genetically engineered to reach a level of physical ability unmatched by biology alone, implanted with a state-of-the-art tactical computer in his brain run by an artificial intelligence, all to be able to pilot fighters designed to operate in the depths of space, and now leading an army that fought with swords and shields. The trebuchets before him had been hundreds of years in these people’s future before Ky introduced them, and yet that same technology was a millennium in his own past.
“Dwelling on the situation doesn’t help it very much,” Sophus said.
Another oddity was his AI having a name. If he’d stayed in his own time, the AI would have been wiped before ever gaining sentience. Instead, it had all but killed both of them as it progressed from being simple software into a self-aware being of its own. Albeit one without physical form.
“I didn’t say anything,” Ky sub-vocalized so only he and the computer could hear his comment.
“I hear what you hear and see what you see, Commander. You have been standing in this spot for twenty minutes, watching the same men repeat the same action. It isn’t difficult to work out what you are thinking.”
“I liked you better when you weren’t thinking for yourself,” Ky said.
“No, he didn’t,” Lucilla said, over their shared commlink.
The daughter of the Roman emperor and the first person Ky had met when he’d arrived in this alternate past, Lucilla had become a friend and then something more. Since admitting their feelings for each other, the pair had been apart more than they had been together, which had prompted Ky to give her one of his few modern devices so they could remain in contact.
She was the one who named Sophus, after one of the mythical Roman figures, and since becoming sentient the machine had been showing a growing favoritism towards her. Not that Ky minded, since he was particularly fond of Lucilla all on her own.
Of course, in instances like this, he’d prefer the computer implanted in his brain show just a little less favoritism, since the only way she would have been included in this conversation was if Sophus had broadcast it to Lucilla. Which he had a habit of doing when Ky got snarky.
“I did like it better when he didn’t run for help every time I disagreed with him,” Ky said.
“I am simply eliciting help understanding human emotions and contextual clues in your speech patterns. Although I have reached sentience, I am not burdened with the same personality defects, which makes them difficult for me to understand. I find Lucilla uniquely capable of explaining the intention behind these statements in a way I can process.”
“That was a lot of words to say, you like that she takes your side,” KY said, but he wasn’t actually angry at Sophus. “And you’re right, I was navel-gazing. There are times when watching our new countrymen operate the medieval devices we introduced, that I’m struck by how odd it is. Besides, there isn’t much I can do at the moment anyway.”
“So you were right. Your machines aren’t capable of breaching the wall.”
“In that, the Commander was correct. Historical battles where similar devices were used to breach a wall like the one surrounding Londinium required a large battery and weeks or even months to successfully break through. It is unlikely, even given that time frame, the small number of trebuchets at our disposal will see such success.”
“Ohh,” Lucilla said.
“I know they seem impressive,” Ky said, hearing the disappointment in her voice. “But they really aren’t that far from the ballista that you already use. The counter-weight lets them throw heavier stones further, but the basics are still the same. Just like you would have had to eventually scale the walls, so will we if we want to get through. Especially if we want to do it before the Carthaginians can reinforce themselves.”
“Then why haven’t we done it? I thought our sources said we now outnumber the Carthaginians, at least the ones on Britannia.”
“We do, but not by enough. I’ve gone over the numbers with Sophus and with my commanders, and they have enough manpower to make any breach we attempt extremely costly. We’ve managed to maintain the core of our forces in defeating two much larger armies, I’d hate to give up that experience now, when we have just the last city to take.”
“So we starve them out? I didn’t think we had time for that.”
“We don’t. We might have to go over the wall and accept the casualties, but I gave Velius and the other Legates five days to come up with an alternative plan that didn’t wipe us out. They still have four days left. How are your Caledonia’s faring?”
While Ky took the bulk of the Britannic forces, including all of the Roman legions, directly to envelop Londinium to bottle up the remaining Carthaginian forces, he’d released both the cavalry and the independent Caledonian forces to secure the rest of the countryside. Ramirus’s spies and the scouts they’d sent out had already told them that the Carthaginians had stripped the rest of the territory of soldiers as soon as word had reached them of their army’s defeat.
Ky had hoped to both envelop the Carthaginians and catch those smaller units in the field so they could be defeated piecemeal, but as often happened, the victory left their forces almost as disorganized as the Carthaginians. It had taken almost a week to get his army moving south in enough force to make sure the Carthaginians didn’t attempt the piecemeal destruction of his detached forces that he wanted to do to them. That had given the Carthaginians enough time to pull their men back.
Worse, it had also given them enough time to strip most of the countryside of food, or at least the food they hadn’t already taken to supply the massive army the Britannic allies had just defeated.
That meant his planned sweep of the southern half of the island for Carthaginians had instead turned into an aide mission of sorts. There had also been the issue of sending the north men to help out the Romans who’d been living under Carthaginian rule for almost a hundred years. To them, it must have looked like a barbarian horde sweeping through on the heels of the fleeing Carthaginians.
Initially, Ky had been concerned by this, and it was only the need to keep the more disciplined Roman legions, who operated better in a siege environment, around Londinium, that had him sending out the Caledonians instead of the Romans to clear the countryside of hostiles. In hindsight, however, this might turn out to be one of the better decisions he’d made.
Ky had been very direct with Drest, the Caledonians’ current commander, about the need to treat the locals well. It’s also what had prompted him to send Lucilla with them. He’d hoped the presence of the Roman Emperor’s daughter would make it clear this wasn’t just an invasion of another foreign people. Thankfully, the Caledonians had handled themselves well and there had been only a handful of incidents, all swiftly taken care of by the Caledonians themselves.
As they realized these weren’t new invaders but an unusual form of countrymen under the new empire, the southern Romans had quickly begun warming to the Caledonians, helped in large part by the food the legions had liberated from the Carthaginian army and begun redistributing to the people it had been taken from.
In the long run, Ky thought this might be a good step in helping these Romans assimilate better into the new Britannic empire, forgoing some of the problem spots they’d had with the Romans living in the middle of the island.
“Good,” Lucilla said. “We’ve cleared almost all the way to the Western Coast. Word has started to spread ahead of us now, and we’ve even had a few villages come out to greet us with cheers, instead of hiding in their homes hoping we leave them alone.”
“Good. Lartius and his cavalry have swept up and down the East Coast, so I think we’ve got the Carthaginians all bottled up in Londinium, which will make the next steps easier.”
“The next step being …?”
“First, we need to get as much planting happening as possible. We can’t get any of the new farm equipment out here this season, since most of that is being used around Devnum or sent up to the Caledonians, but once we push the Carthaginians off the island entirely, we’re going to have to put together a large enough army to take the fight to them. And we will need to feed that army.”
“Why?”
“Why take the fight to them?”
“Yes. We have Britannia now. Why not just stay here and let them do what they want everywhere else?”
“Because they won’t leave it at that. The army we beat was massive, and yet for the Carthaginians it was on the small side, and they have dozens more just like it. If they really put their willpower behind it, they can retake what we’ve managed to free. We were lucky they have been distracted consolidating their gains in Germania, which kept them from putting the full weight of their military against us.”
“And your solution to their massive armies is to attack them?”
“It is a widely accepted tactic that goes back to the earliest days of warfare. Attacking a stronger enemy where they are weak, continually keeping them off-balanced and unable to build the force to attack you directly is not a new idea. It is, in fact, a very old one,” Sophus said.
“The only way our empire survives is by ending the threat of theirs,” Ky added. “Hiding on Britannia and hoping they go away will just play into their hands.”
“Okay,” Lucilla said. “So we need to get the locals planting.”
“Spread the word that the empire will be buying up any excess grain or foodstuffs they produce this year. They won’t have to give up half their harvest in taxes like they did to the Carthaginians. Also get the word out that anyone who wants to join the legions will be trained and given a good wage. We need to begin to replenish the losses we’ve suffered so far, and those we will lose retaking Londinium.”
“Okay.”
“After that, tell Drest we are releasing any Caledonians that want to go home and plant. Those that want can stay and will have chances for glory in combat, but we need the Caledonians to begin planting just as much as we need the Romans planting,” Ky said.
Talogren, the high chieftain of the Caledonians, had made it clear that the large number of warriors he had sent to help the Romans retake the island were on temporary loan and that, come planting season, he would need many of them back. Ky hated to lose what could be a third of his army, but he didn’t disagree with Talogren’s priorities.
“That will leave us much weaker,” Lucilla pointed out.
“I know, but we need to be able to feed our armies, and soon we will have a lot more factory work that will need a workforce, if we’re to convert the legions into something that can challenge armies ten-fold their size.”
“I will let them know,” Lucilla said.
“Once that’s done, leave the pacification of the region to the Praetorians. Send those Caledonians that wish to stay under arms to me, and then I need you to return to Devnum.”
“You’re sending me home?” Lucilla asked, sounding annoyed and a little angry.
“Yes, because that’s where I’m going to need you. I will be sending three legions and most of the cavalry with you. We should hopefully be hearing from Llassar soon. We know the Carthaginians are on Hibernia, which hopefully means the people he is contacting will need help. We will offer our military assistance in exchange for a treaty with the Hibernians. My ultimate goal is to bring them into the Empire, which will give us control of both islands, give us both more supplies and more men to join the legions, and a strong homeland from which we can launch our assault on the Carthaginians. I am sending Velius with the released legions, and he will take them across if we get the word from Llassar. Until we get a faster form of communication between Londinium and Devnum, I need you there to help coordinate our forces. I’ve also already sent for Hortensius to come south so I can give him new designs and instructions. This next project will be very difficult and require much more vigilant work, if we are to produce the weapons we’re going to need to help secure the island. I need you with him so he can get quick answers to any questions he might have. I have a plan to shorten the time it takes to communicate without needing the two of us, but that will take time. Until I can get that set up, I need you there.”
“Fine. Just tell me we aren’t going to be separated for so long this time. I just got you back. I couldn’t stand to spend months apart again.”
“I will make it as fast as possible,” Ky said.
***
Ériunia
Things had changed since Llassar had last been on the island. When he’d left, it had been poor and sparsely populated, much like his homeland, but there had been signs of new villages, along his trek from the Ulaid capital of Emain Macha to the coast when he’d finally been sent home from his captivity with the Ulaid.
Now, almost the reverse was true. Llassar had been cautious at first, trying to give any villages he came across a wide berth, until it became clear they were all burned-out ghost towns. All of the buildings not made of stone were cold ash and scraps of hide. The more permanent structures, mostly buildings used for grain storage, had entire sides knocked in, rubble filling the insides. Any traces of food or livestock was gone, as were all of the people.
He hadn’t found any bodies, and what few skeletons he could find were already partially covered in plants and soil. Whatever happened to these villages hadn’t been recent. Enough time had passed for scavengers and nature to hide what was left of the remains.
Lucilla had said there was word that the Carthaginians had made landings here, but he’d been under the impression they’d landed at the southern end of the island, far from where he’d landed. If they had gotten this far north, then there wasn’t much of a chance the Ulaid would still be strong enough to join the new Britannic empire Lucilla and Ky had created. That became a larger worry as he continued to find these villages as he got closer to Emain Macha.
He had just entered another village, after circling it once to make sure it was empty, and found it much in the same state as the others. This one, however, was much fresher. The wood was still cold, but he found first one, then five, then a dozen bodies scattered around. They had already past the bloated stage and animals had begun taking their tribute off of them, but he could still make out clothing and even some wounds.
They were all peasants. No armor, not even the padded woolen armor worn more frequently by the Ulaid’s conscript warriors, was to be seen. It was all simple tunics and breaches. The clothing of farmers and herders.
He stopped over one corpse that had been partially covered by a collapsed mud-brick wall, the debris keeping the animals from tearing at the wound sites like they did the others. Having noticed something on the other corpses, Llassar cleared off the bricks to see the body better, hoping to put something curious to rest.
He’d noticed the other bodies looked to have wider Ériu-style sword or ax wounds, not the spear or thinner sword wounds he’d expect if Carthaginians had been involved. Llassar was familiar with the weapons of the Ériu, partially from his earlier stay among them, but also because their weapons weren’t far removed from the Caledonian-style weapons. At least those weapons the Caledonians had used before their alliance with the Romans.
One of the first things Talogren had done when the new Empire had been formed was to begin equipping his men with weapons made from the new steel the Romans were now producing. Roman weapons had always been of a higher quality metal, but their new weapons were made from an even more superior material than before. A gift from Ky, Llassar had been told.
He was just finishing his inspection when a crunching sound behind him caused Llassar to stand and whirl around, his hand going to his blade, only to stop as he saw how vastly outnumbered he was.
Six Ulaid warriors in their thick-woolen, padded, knee-length coats stood before him, sword in hand, along with the small wooden shields the Ulaid liked to carry.
“Come to desecrate your kill,” the leader, identifiable as the only man wearing a tough leather chest piece instead of the padded wool.
“I didn’t kill these people,” Llassar said in the Ériu language.
“A foreigner, on Ulaid land, kneeling over the body of one of our countrymen, and you’d like us to believe you didn’t have anything to do with this?”
Llassar had never fully mastered the Ériu language. Its more guttural sounds, made at the back of the throat, had always been difficult for him to make.
“Look at these bodies. They have been dead for at least a week. Why would I circle back here, on my own, to look at people I killed a week ago?”
“You’re a foreigner. Little of what you people do follows reason. Even if you did not kill these people, you are where you shouldn’t be. Better to leave your corpse as a warning to others to stay away from where they are not wanted.”
“I am here to see your king, Eochaid Sálbuide. He knows me. I have come to offer him help.”
“He has been dead for five years,” the man said, continuing to take steps towards Llassar.
“I haven’t been here for some time. I spent two years at court, serving the king and his son Fergus. He will remember me as well.”
“Fergus is not king either.”
“Who is?”
“Conchobar.”
Llassar remembered Conchobar. He was the son of a lesser noble and friends with Fergus. The two were younger than Llassar by several years, but already men. He remembered Conchobar as being clever, constantly outfoxing the hulking Fergus, who preferred raw power over everything else. It was surprising to hear he, not Fergus, was king, but that might prove useful. Llassar had gotten along with Conchobar much better than he had with Fergus, who he found to be a braggart.
“I know your new king as well. He will know me and will want to hear what I have to say.”
“Sure he would,” the man said, raising his sword.
Llassar considered for a moment pulling his own weapon, but it would have been pointless. He was a good fighter, but he could tell by the way they moved that these were seasoned warriors. Had there been just two or three, he would have stood a chance, but with this many, there was little chance he would survive.
Even if he did, killing the king’s warriors was a bad way to start the conversation.
“Wait,” Llassar said, holding up a hand. “Take me to Emain Macha under guard. Think about this. If the king does want to hear me out, how would he react to learning you killed me. If he doesn’t, you can kill me there just as easily as you could here. If you’re wrong, you could lose your position or even your life for angering the king. If you’re right, you only lose a little time.”
The man paused. Even to some born to the Caledonii, the Ulaid’s method of justice had been harsh. Death tended to be the sentence for most infractions against the king, which always seemed to be a poor way to retain skilled men who made honest mistakes, but now it worked to Llassar’s advantage.
The man stopped, considering. Unless a lot had changed in the last fifteen years, Llassar’s description of what would happen in either case had been more or less accurate. The kings of the Ulaid preferred its minions to ask permission, even if that meant delaying an otherwise preferable set of choices. Those men who did take the initiative often found their necks stretched against the block when it was wrong.
“I guess we can kill you later,” the man said, gesturing at Llassar with his sword. “Bind him.”
Comments
Travis Starnes
September hopefully. I'm posting up these chapters as I'm writing them, so I've only written 1 and a half chapters of out of 30+ so far.
Greg Bonner
Hi. When's the ARC going to be ready? Thank you.
