The Triumph of Venus - Chapter 30

Syrakousa, Sicilia

Ky and Bomilcar once again made a ride through the streets of Syrakousa, but the experience was much different than the one they had just a few days prior, when the city had seemed equally peaceful and still.

In spite of smoke still rising from fires not yet completely under control and cobblestones still slick with blood, the streets were suddenly teeming with the previously missing women and children. They still didn’t know for sure if the civilians had been missing because they had been held captive by the Carthaginians or had been hiding because they knew the Carthaginians were still in the city, although if Ky were a betting man, he would have assumed the former.

What was clear was the sudden relief they all shared that it was over. Not all had made it out unscathed, caught in the fight between the Britannians and the Carthaginians, but most had. In spite of that and the damage to their homes, the threat of future violence was over, and they were able to do what civilians throughout time had found a way to do, exist under occupation.

“I should have trusted my instincts,” Ky said to Bomilcar as they passed a group of bandaged legionnaires.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Bomilcar said, pulling his horse to a stop. “It was a clever plan, one they must have been working toward for weeks, maybe longer. Ever since it became clear their plan in Italia wasn’t working. The Carthaginians weren’t just hidden in people’s homes. They dug out concealed spaces beneath floors and within walls to avoid detection, then threatened the civilians to keep their presence a secret. It made the trap exceptionally difficult to spot. Even with all of that preparation, you knew there was a danger here, and took steps to deal with it. Ordering the men to keep dispersed, the continuous inspections of houses throughout the night looking for the soldiers you suspected to be hiding ... Those actions ultimately exposed the Carthaginians, triggering their ambush before they were fully prepared.”

“Small comfort to the men we lost,” Ky said.

“It’s a comfort to the much larger number of men we might have lost, but didn’t. If the Carthaginians had been able to gather their forces and fortify their positions, taking back the city would have been a much bloodier affair. Consider the alternative. If we had been forced to breach the city walls under a traditional defense, our losses would have been far greater. The Carthaginians’ unconventional strategy left them vulnerable to a swift counterattack once their presence was revealed. We had to enter the city if we were going to keep to our time table. We managed to do it and defeat the only full army on Sicilia with what would be very minimal losses in a more traditional siege. You should be proud.”

“Perhaps. But the cost was still high,” Ky said, nudging his horse forward again.

Nothing the general said was wrong, but Ky could still feel the absolute surprise and chaos of the battle, replay the video stored in Sophus’s data storage. Maybe it was true they took precautions, but the surprise was still total. And the fault for being surprised by the enemy like that stopped with him.

What it did tell him was, they played it safe and were still surprised. They’d taken Britain, Ireland, and Europe through aggression, not by this slow stepping, careful progress. Ky had let what happened in Italy color his thinking too much, and allowed himself to slow down despite himself.

“Our intelligence indicated that there was only one major army in Sicilia,” Ky said, changing the subject. “And the forces that retreated from Italia are pinned up north by Aelius. It’s unlikely any went west, let alone to Africa.”

“You don’t think they could have slipped past our lines? Our navy is fairly spread out.”

“I know, but they don’t have any large ships for transport. It’s one of the reasons I was so skeptical their army had fled to Africa. To move enough men to make a difference, they have to use enough ships to handle that, we would know.”

“Okay,” Bomilcar said, giving Ky a look as to say ‘what’s your point?’

“I don’t want to wait to clear the rest of the island. I want to cross to Africa now.”

“Now? But Consul, that could be dangerous. Even without another army in Sicilia, there are probably scattered forces that could be a problem.”

“I know,” Ky said. “But we can’t afford to delay. Every day we wait, Carthage has more time to prepare their defenses. I want Auspex and his legion here. That should be enough to hold the island and assist with the other priorities.”

“Other factors?”

“Valdar has moved out of the Mediterranean and requested more legionnaires. And Llassar in Hispania has also asked for reinforcements. I also want to start clearing the rest of the Islands, just in case.”

“Consul, that will leave us with only two legions for the attack on Africa. Is that wise?”

“I know it’s a risk, but we’ve allowed the enemy to dictate our momentum for months now, and I’m not going to let it continue. The Carthaginians are running out of provinces and places to draw manpower from. I’m not going to let them march men from Greece or Persia and consolidate.”

“But two legions … Africa is a large place.”

“And more sparsely populated than the areas we’ve been through before. We’ve come this far by striking hard and fast, not by playing it safe. If things get bad, Auspex can turn Sicilia over to Marcus and come join us.”

“The enemy has shown an impressive ability to overcome our technological advantages and surprise us. By moving quickly, we give them more opportunities to do so.”

“If they do, we will adapt to them. I trust the men. I’m set on this, my friend. I want to be in Africa by the end of the month. We need to press our advantage while we have it.”

Bomilcar was silent for a moment, his eyes searching Ky’s face. Finally, he nodded, though his expression remained troubled.

“As you command, Consul. I’ll make the necessary arrangements.”

“Thank you,” Ky said, reaching across the space between their animals and slapping the Carthaginian on the shoulder. “I know you’d prefer we go slower, and I appreciate your warning. Keep telling me when you think I’m wrong. I might not always agree or follow your advice, but I promise I’ll still listen and weigh it carefully.”

Bomilcar gave him another firm nod. It had been several years since he defected from Carthaginian service, but years of an autocratic, top-down command that brooked no disagreement or discussion had their effect on its commanders.

Ky never wanted to be like that. Bomilcar might be overly cautious, but he had more experience with men in the field than Ky might ever have. He wouldn’t let such a valuable resource go to waste.

***

Germania

Lucilla emerged from the small hut she had been quartered in since coming to Germania, feeling a cool breeze whip past her. Summer was coming to an end. She allowed herself a moment to feel the air and take in a deep breath before opening her eyes again.

It only took her a moment to find the man she’d set out to find. Not surprising, since Modius was very rarely out of sight of whatever room she was in at the moment. She found him a dozen paces away, engaged in conversation with a tall, broad-shouldered Germanic warrior.

It was a good sight to see, a Britannian and a Germanic engaged in what looked to be a friendly conversation. The last few months had been filled with difficult negotiations, as tribes distrustful of anyone becoming a new overlord trying to control them made setting up a lasting relationship difficult. In spite of that, they’d managed it and most of the tribes of Germania had signed on. She predicted in a year’s time, maybe two, they’d form a more cohesive political body with their neighbors, much like the world Sophus often described to her.

One where all sections of the planet were controlled by political entities made up of a range of people, rather than small tribes fighting over each patch of land they could get their hands on. The levels of overall prosperity and security Sophus described, outside of a few fairly devastating wars, was something she wanted for her people. She could only imagine a time when the main pursuit of a populace wasn’t just trying to feed itself, constantly worried about someone taking what they had.

There were pitfalls from this future Sophus described that she wanted to avoid, but with what it and Ky knew, it was possible to build a new future for themselves.

Of course, first, they had to end this war with this war. Which is why she came looking for Modius. Attentive as ever, she had been outside for only a beat or two before her guard captain noticed her and politely excused himself from the conversation and made his way to her.

“Your Majesty,” he greeted her with a respectful bow. “Is everything alright?”

“Who’s your friend?” she asked, pointing at the man who was now walking away from them.

“His name is Dagmar, part of a group from the Anarti way out east. He’s one of their chieftain’s guards, and we’ve gotten to talking while you were in with his chief. They’re returning home now that most of the negotiations are done, and he stopped to say goodbye.”

“Did he give you any sense of how his master feels about how things have gone here?”

“Not directly, but I get the sense they’re pleased. He’s talking about traveling to Britannia next year. He’s desperate to see the train after I described it to him.”

“They’ll get a chance. One of the things we agreed on was building out a railway here as well, which will help us as much as it does them.”

“They know that, but I think they’re curious to see what it is still. Hearing about it isn’t the same as seeing it.”

“If you speak to him again, please tell him the empire welcomes him and will give him a grand tour when he visits. The more of their people we can convince and send home to talk about it, the better it will be for our relations.”

“I’ll make sure to mention it.”

“Good. Since it seems our job is done here, I want you to begin preparing a small guard force to escort me to Italia. Enough to take us beyond the peninsula and on to wherever the legions are when we get there.”

“Your Majesty, with all due respect, I must advise against this course of action. Joining the legions on the front lines is far too dangerous for the Empress.”

“Considering the deal we just finished and how our relations are with the Germanics, do you believe the journey to Italia would be unsafe, Modius?”

“Well, no, but…”

“And did you not just say that our relations with the Germanics are better than they’ve ever been?” Lucilla pressed.

“Yes, your Majesty, but that doesn’t mean we’ve eliminated all threats. There are still bandits and other dangers lurking in the wilderness. And from what I hear, the situation in Italia is far less stable than it is here.”

“Which shouldn’t affect us. The first group of Germanics heading to the peninsula to bolster security is set to depart within the week. Over a thousand warriors. It’s highly improbable that any bandits would dare to challenge such a formidable force.”

“Only through Germania, your majesty. Once we reach Italia, they will report to the legiona nd be dispersed across Italia, leaving us on our own just when security becomes the biggest issue.”

“We have garnered support from numerous allies who have dispatched their own men to aid in stabilizing the region. Between their presence and your own fearsome reputation, I have the utmost confidence in your ability to ensure my safety.”

“And after that? We may have allies in Italia, but we do not have them in Africa, which remains outside of our control, and no one, not even I, can guarantee your well-being in an active war zone.”

“I appreciate your concern, Modius, but I will be surrounded by legions of our finest, most well-trained soldiers. I do not expect to be perfectly safe. Not when I’m, as you point out, in a war zone, but if the legions fall, my safety is doomed no matter where I am.”

“But if the enemy learns you are there, if they target you, they could…”

“Enough,” Lucilla cut him off, her voice firm but not unkind. “I understand your reservations, but my decision is final. This is not a matter up for debate. I have received word that Ky is heading to Africa to end this war once and for all, with only two legions. I don’t know what help I can be, but I will not allow him to face this alone.”

“A message, your Majesty? I wasn’t aware that any messengers had arrived recently.”

Lucilla waved a dismissive hand and said, “What matters is that I need to be there, not just for Ky, but for our people. They need to see their Empress standing with them in their time of greatest need.”

“I will, of course, do as you command, but I must express my deepest reservations. Having both the Consul and the Empress in the same place, in an active war zone no less, could lead to disaster for the empire.”

“Ky can keep us safe, Modius. We are on the verge of winning this war, and I refuse to sit idly by while our people fight and die for our future.”

“But what of the empire itself? Surely you are needed back in Devnum, to govern and maintain stability.”

“Surprisingly, Medb has things well in hand. I will need to be back by winter, but for now, the reports from Ramirus have been extremely positive, and I trust in their ability to manage affairs in my absence.”

Reaching out, she took his hands in hers and said, “I may never get another chance to do something like this, Modius. Our people are putting themselves into the lion’s maw, risking everything for the sake of the empire. I will not let them do it alone.”

“If we go, I must insist on taking every precaution to ensure your safety.”

“Of course,” Lucilla said, squeezing his hands and giving him a bright smile. “I wouldn’t dream of making your job harder.”

The look he gave her in return reminded her very much of looks her father would give her when she was a girl, trying to get whatever mischief she was up to past him.

***North African Coast, Near Carthage

‘They were finally doing it,’ Ky thought from the flagship of his fleet, as it cut through the calm waters of the Mediterranean. The ship’s white sails billowed in the steady breeze, propelling them towards the North African coast. Behind him, the rest of the fleet followed in a well-maintained formation. Three additional caravels, two of the newest schooners just arrived from Britannia, and dozens of galleys, all packed with Legionnaires of the Seventh and Ninth legions.

Years of fighting had all lead to this. They were taking the fight to the Carthaginians. They’d picked a landing point thirty miles outside of Carthage. Close enough to be within easy striking distance, but not so close the city could rally to counter the landings easily.

Or so Ky had thought.

As the shoreline grew in his enhanced vision, he could see hundreds of people moving along it. Horses and chariots and carts, all following and converging to where his ships were headed. They were still too far out for Bomilcar or any of the other men with him to see what was coming, even through the spyglasses they were all staring through.

“We have a problem,” Ky said to Bomilcar.

“What do you see?” the general asked.

Ky had used his augmented senses enough times that it had gone from a wonder for his commanders to a tool they used with ease.

“The shoreline is packed. Hundreds of people, and growing by the minute as more arrive. Only some look to be soldiers. I would assume the rest to be civilians, by their dress, but everyone is armed. I’m also seeing catapults and, I think, some of those primitive cannon Valdar warned us about.”

“How did they know we’d be landing here?” Bomilcar asked.

“I don’t know. We’re not that far from their capital, so maybe they didn’t, although if they just spread a ton of people along the coast, watching for us, that is a lot of manpower.”

“Should we start the landing anyway? We’ve come this far.”

“Let’s test the waters. Send in two galleys and have the rest of the fleet cover them. If it looks like we aren’t going to be able to land and get men ashore, they are to reverse course and return to the fleet immediately.”

Bomilcar nodded, turning to relay the orders. The deck sprang to life as men rushed to their stations, preparing for the assault.

The fleet began to shell the shoreline beyond the intended landing point, the thunder of dozens of cannons echoing across the water. Under the cover of the bombardment, two galleys broke from the formation, oars dropping down and pushing the ships in a straight course for the shore.

As the galleys drew closer, the Carthaginians responded with a barrage of their own. At first, it was only arrows and boulders hurled from catapults, all falling short. It seemed a waste. The arrows looked mostly to be coming from the civilians. A panicked move. The catapults were another thing. Operated by professionals, they should have known they didn’t have the range.

It wasn’t until the crude cannons opened up that Ky realized they were gauging the range. The weapons sounded odd, deeper and more guttural with a much dirtier smoke drifting up from them, but they would still be dangerous, based on the velocity readings Sophus was extrapolating.

“Look there!” one of the men shouted, pointing towards the shore.

Ky followed his gaze and saw, to his disbelief, Carthaginians throwing themselves into the sea. They swam towards the galleys, arrows plunging into the water behind them, shot by men in Carthaginian light armor. The galleys were a long ways out and anyone who reached them would be so exhausted as to be unable to seriously fight, but it explained the arrows. They were sending their own civilians like lemmings, trying to overwhelm the galleys.

“They’re mad,” Bomilcar muttered. “They’ll never reach the ships.”

Ky wasn’t so sure. There was a desperation to this whole defense that would make any landing costly. It was wild and unfocused, and could almost certainly be defeated, but not without a cost.

Suddenly, one of the enemy cannons found its mark. With a splintering crack, a section of railing was ripped away from the lead galley, sending Legionnaires tumbling into the sea. The ship listed heavily, oars faltering in their rhythm.

“Damn,” Ky muttered before calling out to a signalman. “Order both galleys to pull back to the fleet.”

There was a moment’s hesitation, a pause that stretched for an eternity. Then the galleys began to turn, their oars straining against the water as they fought to reverse course. The Carthaginians redoubled their efforts, swimming frantically to close the distance, but the galleys were already pulling away.

Thankfully there wasn’t another hit from the cannon on shore, although several got close.

“All ships, focus fire on those cannons!” Bomilcar ordered as the galleys cleared out of the way.

Signalmen began to relay the message, each ship letting off a barrage of fire as the word went down the line of Britannian vessels. Wave after wave of fire pummeled the shoreline where the cannons had fired from, sending up geysers of sand and dirt.

There were a few well-placed, or at least lucky, shots, striking a handful of Carthaginian cannons, obliterating them and sending their crews scattering in a shower of limbs and debris. The rest, however, remained intact. The Carthaginians might have been many things, but incapable of learning from past battles wasn’t one of those. They’d experienced Britannian shelling many times, had adapted to them, dragging the guns back to prepared positions with strong overhead cover.

“They’re pulling back,” Ky said. “Still close enough they can roll them forward again quickly to deploy, but protected enough that we’ll need direct hits to take one out.”

“We got a few before they pulled back,” Bomilcar pointed out.

“True, but not enough. We’d burn through all of our powder and spend a week here, going back and forth, trying to whittle down their artillery, during which they will be reinforcing and probably bringing up new pieces.”

“That isn’t going to work,” Bomilcar said.

“No. It isn’t. Halt the shelling.”

“So we give up?”

“No, we’re not giving up. They’re just too well entrenched for us to dislodge them. We could probably still force a landing, but the losses would be heavy, and we’re still going to need to fight once we get to Carthage itself. We’ll have to move to an alternate landing site further down the coast. There aren’t enough men and cannon in Carthage to cover the entire shoreline of North Africa, so they will have concentrated them within range of their capital. It’ll mean a longer march to Carthage and allow them to concentrate more forces, but in the field we stand a better chance than we would in an amphibious assault.”

“Won’t they have people watching, consolidate forces wherever we land?”

“Probably, but they can only see so far out and we control the seas. We’ll have to pull further out, well out of sight and avoid any civilian traffic, since some will undoubtedly be eyes for their emperor, but a day or two’s sail down the coast will put us well beyond what they can cover. Send one of the messenger ships to order two caravels out of Kalb to begin shelling Carthage itself. They’re to keep distance and don’t need to be concerned with controlling the port, I just want to have something for their attention to focus on. Send out the rest of our scout ships to begin looking for a secondary landing point. From there, it will be a long dry march to Carthage.”

“If we stick close to the shore, at least we won’t have to work too much about keeping in supply until we reach their capital.”

“Precisely,” Ky said. “No one said this was going to be easy.”