The Triumph of Venus - Chapter 18

Imperial Palace, Devnum

Lucilla made her way down the dimly lit corridor deep in the palace complex, far from any windows or light. Although she grew up in the palace, this section always seemed so unwelcoming that she hardly ever came down here. Now, as Empress, she usually just made anyone who might be located here come to her. If she hadn’t had one of the guards leading her, she was certain she would have gotten lost.

She didn’t bother knocking as she got to the door she was looking for, another benefit of being empress, only to pause as she found Ramirus behind the long table scattered with papers which took up much of the cramped room.

“…very angry. He only stayed five minutes before leaving again.”

Ramirus and the woman both stopped as the door opened. Reamiurs looked surprised for a moment, before softening as he recognized Lucilla. The woman had the opposite reaction, going from curiosity to shock.

“Your Majesty!” she said, going to one knee, her head dipping down. “I’m sorry. I didn’t … You … I.”

“You’re fine,” Lucilla said, reaching down and pulling the woman to her feet, giving her a warm smile. “I’m the one who should apologize. You two were talking and I interrupted.”

“Your presence is never an intrusion, Your Majesty. This business can wait,” Ramirus said, before turning to the woman. “Please excuse us, Opima. We will speak again soon.”

Opima bobbed a hasty curtsey to Lucilla before scurrying from the office, the guard outside pulling the door shut behind her.

“One of your agents, I presume?”

“Opima is a friend to the empire,” Ramrius said, gesturing to one of the chairs. “What can I do for you, Your Majesty?”

Lucilla rolled her eyes at the spymaster. He sometimes seemed incapable of answering even the simplest questions, even to her.

“I’ve made a decision,” she said, taking a seat and folding her hands in her lap. “I want to go to Germania and speak with the leaders of the Germanic tribes directly.”

“That’s quite the journey, and not without its risks.”

“I’m aware of the risks, but I believe it’s necessary. We are having no luck finding the men Ky needs to keep Italia pacified so he can continue his march south, and they’ve shown more willingness than anyone else to providing warriors. I’ve run out of options here.”

“Beyond the fact that they’ve already given quite a few men and still have scattered remnants of Carthaginians in their own lands, my greater concern for this is your own safety. The Carthaginians would love nothing more than to get their hands on you, and you won’t have the same protection in Germania that you do here in Rome.”

“I understand the risks, Ramirus, but we don’t have a choice. We need those men, and if my being there personally can ensure their cooperation, then I must go. I know you’d rather I send someone else to negotiate, but so far, they’ve been working with the Consul. Sending a functionary now could be seen as disrespect, as a sign that they’ve become less important to us now that the war has moved south. I am the only right choice.”

“I’m sure they understand our focus would be where the fight is,” Ramirus countered. “They were still actively engaged in hostilities against the Carthaginians last year. People don’t forget that easily.”

“Before Bomilcar left for the continent last year, I spoke with him at length about the tribes and their customs. At the time, it had mostly been curiosity. I’ve never been to Germania, and there are some similarities between the tribes there and the kingdoms of Eiru, so I’d been hoping some of what he shared could be transferable. One of the things he made clear was the importance they put on how things are respected. Yes, they would understand that Ky had to be with the armies, and maybe they would accept a representative of a lower position, but they might not. We are running out of options and this is the best one left to us. If we’re wrong and they do take affront, we might be left with no other options. I’m not willing to take that chance.”

Modius, who had been standing silently by the door, spoke up. “I still believe this is a mistake. This trip would be an unnecessary danger and we cannot guarantee your safety. As Ramirus just said, there are still scattered Carthaginians throughout the region. The legions may need more men, but they need you keeping the empire together more.”

“I understand your concerns, Modius, but this is what has to happen.”

Modius frowned, looking more displeased than usual, which was saying something. He, however, didn’t say anything else.

“You should listen to your guard, Your Majesty,” Ramirus added. “I assume you’ve seen the reports I’ve sent you? You know how dangerous this is. Please, let me send someone in your stead. I will even go if you want me to. Your place is here.”

“I appreciate all of your concerns,” Lucilla said, heartened that her people cared for her so deeply, but annoyed she had to keep repeating herself. “But my decision is final. I am going, and if I have to sail a ship myself to get there, I will. Ramirus, send word to the chieftains that I request a large gathering at the village we’ve been using for northern supply shipments. I want as many of the tribes we’ve been in contact with to attend. Tell them this has to do with the weapons supplies being sent and allocations, and requires leaders or people capable of making agreements to be present. That should be enough to get them there.”

“I hope you’re right, and your presence there will be enough to convince them, but you should be prepared for the worst. Their last response to the Consul’s request for more men left the impression they have no intention of providing more manpower.”

“I’ll be persuasive then,” Lucilla said.

“There are also going to be complications here,” Ramirus added, still not giving up. “The empire is still young, fragile, and you’re well aware of the complications we’ve had. The insurrections may be gone, but we’ve got plenty of loyal subjects who’d be very willing to let us lose this war if it meant personal gain. We’ve done well keeping them in check, but it seems likely that, with you being gone, they will see this as an opportunity. You could be setting up more problems for yourself in the future.”

“I know, and we will have to deal with that when it happens. I want you to both hear me on this,” she said, giving both Ramirus and Modius a serious expression. “This needs to happen and is my will as Empress.”

Ramirus sighed, “Very well. I will dispatch agents to the tribes and begin making arrangements for your journey and protection.

***

Northern Italy

Raśna watched as the Britannians packed their tools, still covered in a sheen of sweat after a long day’s work in the sun. A stack of stones, gathered by his people over the last several weeks, but much smaller now, still lined the banks of the river. Raśna allowed himself a small smile as he realized how much they had overdone it, without his even having to press them.

When word had spread that the bridge was going to finally be replaced, his people had volunteered almost to a man to help gather the stone needed for it. Several had made it sound a practical exchange, the offer to help get the job done faster, but he knew some also had started to feel they had taken too much advantage of the Britannian’s charity, and wanted some part in the work being done on their home.

Which was for the best. Even if they didn’t do the work itself, they would all have a sense of pride every time they passed over the bridge, as it should be.

“I think we’re about done, elder,” the young Britannian Sextus said, breaking from his men and coming over where Raśna had been watching them progress. “I’m sorry, but we haven’t been able to thoroughly test it. I’d hoped we would be able to do that today, so you could start using it right away, but the sun’s already starting to go down, and our orders are still firm.”

“I understand, Decanus,” he said, reaching out and grabbing the young man’s hands. “I know you’ve received less than a friendly welcome among some of our neighbors, and I don’t fault your superiors for their caution. Please know how grateful we’ve been for your help, and how thrilled we are to see your progress. You and your men continue to astound us.”

Sextus gave the small grin he did every time he was complimented, the one that reminded Raśna of his grandson. It was easy to forget, when these men were in their armor, looking ferocious, how young they were. And like his grandson, Sextus was a good boy, even if he was from a far-off land.

“We will return tomorrow to ensure the bridge is stable enough for your people to use,” he promised. “You won’t have to make that roundabout trip anymore.”

“Thank you again,” he said, still patting the man’s hand. “We look forward to seeing you tomorrow, even if you weren’t doing more work for us. You know you are always welcome in our homes.”

“I appreciate that,” Sextus said, squeezing Raśna’s hand in return before pulling it free.

As the Britannians left, the village settled into evening, families settling in for dinner, exhausted after a long day working the fields. Lights from candles and cooking fires began to sparkle to life, as darkness closed in.

It was a scene that Raśna had witnessed countless times before, but one he still savored. He relished this time of the night, as he walked through his village and listened to his people living their lives. It was almost serene to him.

This night started out just the same, until he made it back to his own home, when the tranquility was shattered by a scream somewhere in the darkness. Raśna froze, listening intently, trying to determine where the sound came from, and if someone needed help. And then chaos erupted as more cries and shouts followed. He’d just started down the main road of the village, toward where the cries were coming from, when he saw armed men, swarming toward the village center, some bursting into homes and dragging people out, slaughtering those who tried to flee.

Worse, as the first men got close enough to see in the dark, Raśna realized he recognized some of the assailants. They were neighbors who had vanished with the Carthaginians who had fled before the Britannian advance. He’d assumed they had fled south with the Carthaginians, since most had had better relations with their former overlords than he or the rest of the village had had.

Worse, he also recognized some of the men as Carthaginians, by bearing if not specifically recognizing the man.

“What is the meaning of this?” he shouted at the men as they continued to go from house to house, pushing and forcing everyone to the center of the village.

One of the Carthaginians nearest him backhanded Raśna across the face, sending him to his knees, before grabbing him by the neck and pushing him to join the rest of his people, forcing Raśna to his knees. A moment later, his nephew Sicanus, who lived further on the edge of the village, was dragged into sight and thrown to the ground next to him.

Over the next ten minutes, more and more of the men, and even some of the women of the village, joined them. Most were the leaders, farmers, and craftsmen who held prominent places in their neighbors’ lives.

“What is happening?” Sicanus gasped, clutching a bleeding gash on his arm.

Raśna just shook his head, at a loss for words.

“Silence!” barked one of the attackers, backhanding Raśna across the face again. “No talking!”

Raśna turned his head and spat blood into the dirt, glaring at the man who had struck him. This wasn’t a Carthaginian. Veli had been his neighbor for years, living just outside of the village at one of the small farmsteads. Raśna even remembered when the young man was born, helped his mother care for him when he was small. He’d worried for the man after he’d abandoned his farm just a month ago without a word to anyone. Raśna had assumed Veli fled south with the retreating Carthaginians, but with the sudden upswing in banditry, he’d been concerned that maybe something worse had happened.

It was shocking to see him here, now, as he was, leading an attack on their own village. Shouts and screams echoed through the night as the invaders continued their rampage. Raśna watched helplessly as young Larthia was dragged whimpering past him, clutching the limp body of her younger sister. His heart ached at the sight.

As the chaos began to die down, with the entire village gathered, those who still lived, on their knees, around Raśna, a man broke away from the rest, which had started to gather in front of them. A Carthaginian, no doubt, Raśna thought, by the way the man carried himself, his chin held high, his back straight, lording over them.

“This village,” he began, his voice echoing through the night, “and its people stand accused of treason to the invaders. You have accepted their assistance and allowed them free access to your village and area. You have brought them into your homes, fed them, and taken their charity.”

He paused, letting his words sink in.

“The Emperor has declared any such behavior treason to Carthage and punishable by death.”

Fearful whispers rippled through the villagers, which were promptly shouted down by the men gathered behind the Carthaginians.

“Some of your neighbors have not been so weak, and have stayed loyal to the empire while you have begged and groveled at the feet of the invaders,” he continued, gesturing toward the men gathered behind him, indicating Raśna’s former neighbors. “They have watched you, and made notes of the worst offenders.”

With that, Veli and the other men came forward and began dragging many of them forward. One grabbed Sicanus, pulling Raśna’s nephew hard, before hands then grabbed Raśna himself, with all of the selected put into a line at the Carthaginians’ feet.

“All of you took from the empire for generations. Your village lived, protected in the empire’s good graces, suckling from its teat. And what did you do when the empire needed you? You turned on your loving emperor who cared for you as a father cares for a child. You accepted aid and comfort from our Britannic enemies, you have betrayed your rightful lords and masters.”

He paused again for dramatic effect.

“Let this be a lesson to the rest of you, of what happens when you defy your emperor.”

A cry erupted from Sicanus as one of the men wrenched his nephew’s head back, exposing his throat, drawing a dagger from his belt.

“No!” Raśna shouted, lurching forward only to be held back by unyielding hands.

The man didn’t even glance in Raśna’s direction as the blade slid across Sicanus’s neck. Blood sprayed in an arc, soaking the ground in front of the Carthaginian. Sicanus clutched desperately at his mutilated throat, gagging and choking before collapsing lifeless to the earth.

Raśna felt bile rising in his throat.

“Why?” Raśna choked out, fixing his eyes on Veli. “We were your neighbors. Your friends!”

“And now you’re all traitors,” he said coldly, stepping forward, plunging his sword into Raśna’s chest.

The elder gasped, more in shock than pain, as the blade slid into him. He could vaguely feel his tunic become damp, then soaked, as the sword was removed and blood spilled from him, as he collapsed to his side. Already, his vision was dimming, but he couldn’t look away as his former neighbors and the Carthaginians fell upon the rest of the men lined up along with Raśna’s and Sicanus.

He watched as Thufl, his friend of thirty years, was grabbed by a trio of the men, who took turns beating him with clubs, laughing at each wet impact as they caved in his friend’s skull.

That was the last thing Raśna saw as he slipped away, dying with the rest of his village.

***

Devnum

Medb rested her head back on the edge of the bathing pool and luxuriated in its warmth. Even on a hot spring day, which this one was turning out to be, she still found the sensation pleasing.

When she’d come to Rome, the first time she’d tried out the baths, she’d been both perplexed and put off by the odd smell, which someone told her was a new addition to the experience. Something about a chemical added to the water that was part of a series of new requirements the Consul had put on public baths. It seemed there wasn’t a lot of consensus if people thought those requirements were good or not, and a very vocal minority apparently refused to step foot in them, claiming the smell and having to wash in running cold water after getting out ruined the experience for them.

Maybe because she didn’t know a time before the new requirements, but Medb found the smell somewhat familiar now. She even liked the cold rinse after leaving the baths, finding it bracing. It was also a notable sight better than sponging off from cold tubs of water, which is how she’d done things back home. If she ever did go back, she’d have to bring this with her and set up baths of her own.

She inhaled the moist air, the hint of herbs and minerals reviving her. The bath attendants waited, just out of sight, to pour the cleansing water over her before wrapping her in warm cloth, kneading scented oils into her skin and hair, and dressing her. It made her feel like a queen again.

She sighed, letting the tension seep from her body. She’d been on the sidelines for so long, she’d forgotten what the game was like, with its moves and counter moves, not to mention all of the egos involved. She loved it and was glad to have even a taste of it back, even if this version of it was so narrow and limited.

The sound of one of the attendants gasping and some kind of commotion made Medb open her eyes again, only to find herself staring up at the scowling face of Senator Fiacha, who was standing above her.

“Have you come to bathe, Senator?” Medb asked, her voice lazy and unbothered, a stark contrast to his heaving shoulders. “This hour is normally reserved for women, but I’m sure no one would restrict someone of your fine stature.”

Medb waved off the guard standing behind the senator, looking unsure of how he should handle the sudden intrusion by someone of such high standing and pushed herself up, floating to one of the perpendicular sides of the pool so she could face Fiacha directly, making no attempt to cover her naked body.

“Of course not,” he snapped, putting clenched hands against his hips. “I know you’re behind this ridiculous wool legislation.”

Medb raised an eyebrow and said, “Is that a question or an accusation, Senator?”

“Don’t play coy with me, Medb. You know damn well what I’m talking about. And don’t think I don’t know you’re the one who’s been whispering in Taenaris’ ear.”

“Of course I was behind it. I made no secret of that at our last meeting,” she said, lifting a graceful shoulder in a shrug. “You made it quite clear then that you did not think I had the power to compel you to do anything. I required a demonstration to show you how wrong you were.”

Fiacha’s face reddened, his anger boiling over. “You’re willing to destroy my brother-in-law’s business, to devastate my wife’s family, all to prove a point?”

“Of course I am. I don’t care about you or your family, Senator. Besides, only one of us chose to flout their position and put their family in harm’s way, and that wasn’t me.”

“What is it you want, Medb?”

Medb didn’t answer right away, instead tilting her head and studying him for a moment, letting him squirm.

“For starters, Fiacha, I want you to pass on the Empress’s request for manpower to your king. And I want your full support behind it.”

Fiacha scowled again, but Medb could see the resignation in his eyes. He known he was outmaneuvered before he’d ever stepped into the baths. Everything else had been bluster to cover his own defeat.

“Fine,” he said through gritted teeth. “But you have to halt this legislation.”

Medb smiled, a slow, satisfied smile that made Fiacha’s scowl deepen. “See, isn’t it easier when you just do what I tell you from the beginning?”

“To the hell’s with you,” Fiacha spat, turning on his heels to storm out.

“Why do you think you’re done with me, Fiacha?” she asked, her voice soft but firm, stopping him in his tracks.

“What do you mean?” he asked, his voice wary as he turned to face her.

“I mean that I have tasks for you to do in the future, Senator, and I expect your full cooperation.”

“What? Why should I do anything for you, ever? If I never have to even speak to you again, I’ll die a happy man.”

“You haven’t thought this through, have you, Senator?” she said, putting her arms behind her, over the edge of the bath. “By getting this legislation shut down, and by passing on information you should have already passed on, you’ve shown your hand. How do you think Conchobar would feel if he knew you’d been legislating for personal gain? Or withholding information because of your own personal wishes?”

“What are you talking about?” he stammered, his face paling.

She shook her head. How someone this stupid could ever get to his level of power, she’d never know.

“I know Conchobar, both as an enemy and now, as his loyal vassal and daughter-in-law. As reasonable as he can sometimes be, I have also known him to react badly, often violently, when crossed. Do you really want to test him?”

“I’ve agreed to your terms. What more can you want?”

“Like I said, I’ll let you know when I have more tasks for you now. I just wanted to make sure you understood who you belonged to now.”

Fiacha’s eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched as he glared at Medb, who looked back to him, unperturbed. The Senator’s face contorted with anger and resentment, and she could see him working through all of the things he wanted to say. She could also see him working through the consequences to those, and realizing he was boxed in completely.

“You have no idea the type of enemy you’ve made today,” Fiacha said through gritted teeth.

Medb regarded him coolly and said, “On the contrary, I know exactly what kind of man you are, Fiacha. Weak, greedy, and a coward when it comes down to it.”

“I won’t forget this.”

“I don’t want you to. I want you to remember this every time you try to go around me or think you can outmaneuver me. If you step out of line, I will crush you,” she said, her voice becoming deadly serious before returning to her more carefree attitude. “Now, run along and do as you’re told.”

With a final venomous look, Fiacha turned on his heel and stormed out of the baths. Once he was finally gone, she slid back down, her head lolling onto the edge of the baths again, letting the relaxing waters wash over her once more. A small, satisfied smile played at her lips.

That had gone well.