The Fires of Vulcan - Chapter 30

Port of Kalb

Valdar stepped out of the temporary housing he’d been given when the fleet arrived back at the port a handful of days before, stretching and taking in the crisp salty air. He still thought of the cabin of his ship as his home, since it’s where he spent the majority of his time, but even he had to admit it was nice to sleep somewhere a little less cramped.

He was even considering getting something a little more permanent, for when he wasn’t aboard ships. The weather here was certainly nicer than Britannia, with its incessant rain and cold winters. The weather was definitely cooling as winter began to set in, but it wasn’t the bone-chilling cold they had in Devnum. It was even a possibility now, with the new telegraph wires being strung across the continent, allowing him to communicate quickly with the capital instead of having to be there himself.

He took one last look over the construction happening down by the docks before moving toward the large building in the center of the city. It had previously housed the Carthaginian commander and was soon to be the home of the Britannian naval headquarters here in the Middle Sea. With the quickly growing fleet and even faster-growing merchant shipping activity, logistics was becoming more than he and his captains could handle on their own. While Valdar would miss the more free-wheeling early days of the navy, bureaucracy had made its way into his world, and even he had to bend to its will.

It did, however, give him a more convenient place to hold meetings with his captains. If his cabin was cramped to live in, it was downright suffocating when seventeen other captains and their first mates tried to cram into it to discuss strategy.

Today’s meeting was even larger, with ship pursers, the newly arrived garrison commander assigned to the port, and his command staff also in attendance. The last to arrive, as was his prerogative, he was once again taken by the diversity among his captains, as the leadership slowly expanded beyond Romans, a handful of Scandi and Caledonians to bring in Ulaid, and even a few Germanics. With how quickly immigration from the freed tribes across the continent was growing the Empire, it probably wouldn’t be long until they saw an even larger variety, including tribesmen from Gaul and Hispania. It certainly was a motley group.

“Well, it looks like we’re all here,” Valdar said, finding his place at the head of the table. “Good. We have a lot to cover, so let’s get started.”

Turning his attention first to the newly arrived garrison commander, an Ulaid named Niall, Valdar said, “I know you’re just getting your feet under you, but there’s a lot of work to be done here. The century I left here did good work repairing the damage caused by our shelling and capture of the city, but there’s still a lot that needs repair. In addition, I need you to begin overseeing the construction of additional landward fortifications. I know we’ve managed to push the bulk of the Carthaginian forces off the continent, but a lot of the soldiers who ran from the battles have turned to banditry to survive, and we need to be prepared if they come this way. The Carthaginians built a port here because of how crucial it is in controlling the Middle Sea, and I would not be surprised if they attempted to retake it. Unless they make some major advances in shipbuilding very quickly, their easiest path to doing so would be to land a force and march south. I want you prepared for that possibility.”

“I understand,” the commander said in his thick accent.

“On that front, we also need to shore up our harbor defenses. We know the Carthaginians have access to gunpowder, and it’s not outside of the realm of possibility that they’ll soon figure out they can do more than lob it from catapults, which means the port needs to be able to defend itself from seaborne attacks as well. I want two new forts built at either end of the docks to extend our range of fire. With the new, larger cannons that I understand are under development for fixed positions, we should be able to outrange anything they might send our way. This port is the linchpin of our shipping lanes as we expand into the Middle Sea, and I want a well-protected area for our ships to harbor if need be.”

“That will require a lot of material,” Niall pointed out.

“I know. You’ll get it. The next part of the war is dependent on us getting control of the sea before the legions are deployed to Africa. You’ll get what you need.”

“Good,” he said.

“I’ve also sent a request to Lucan to have one of his senior builders sent here to help with the expansion of the docks. Besides widening the dock space we already have, we’re also going to add in one slip for building ships here. The docks in Devnum need to get supplies delivered from the mainland to provide to us for their completion. Considering we’ve already been contacted by local tribes, who are interested in setting up some trading relationships now that they’re free from Carthaginian control, we’ll have more direct, and faster, access to those raw materials here.”

“But you don’t know if the Empress or Lucan will approve this expansion yet?” Dag, the captain of the Seadreki, said. “Aren’t you getting ahead of yourself?”

“Maybe, but I want to get this port up and running fast, and I don’t want to wait to build the slip until we get approval and our man gets picked and makes his way down here. We’re going to act as if we have approval and, if it doesn’t happen, we’ll deal with that then.”

“It’s your head,” the captain said.

“Back to the topic of the locals. You’ve probably already noticed the influx of merchants and I assume that’s just the beginning. They’re seeing the value of trade with the locals and what the sea lanes will do for us, and they can smell the money. I’m all for it, but we need to be ready for the problems that will come with them. We’re going to have a building boom outside of the government-run facilities, and I expect the port to expand, so keep that in mind when building out the walls. We’re going to also need to find a place for a factor from the capital to deal with collecting the taxes that will start being generated here.”

“Are we planning on expanding our presence beyond the port? Taking over territory in the name of the Empire?” Niall asked.

“No. The Consul and Empress have both been clear that we do not want additional territory beyond controlling the occasional port or fort, to protect our interests. They’d rather make alliances and leave the governing of those places to the locals, rather than overextend the Empire.”

“I see,” Niall said, not sounding entirely convinced.

“On that topic, I have also sent a request to Britannia for a diplomat to be sent to negotiate more formal relations with the local tribes. Until then, I leave it to you to use your best judgment in dealing with the inevitable disputes that creep up.”

“I’ll do my best,” Niall said.

“Good, ‘cause on that front, you’ll have to answer to the Empress, and not me. Now, as for the rest of us,” Valdar said, turning his attention to his captains; “We have a job to do, which will be easier now that we have someone who can deal with things here at the port. Alfhildr, I’m leaving you to fix our ships, plus your own, and to maintain things here. Your squadron is responsible for securing the entrance to Oceanus and patrolling that side of the coast of both Hispania and North Africa. I want your focus on North Africa. With the pillars closed to them, those will be their only ports into the wider world. I want them shut down completely. Shell any operating ports into oblivion and sink any Carthaginian boat you find, I don’t care if it’s a galley or a fishing boat. This close to their homeland, we’re not going to find a lot of independent villages, so assume anyone you encounter is going to be Phoenician and respond accordingly.”

“With pleasure,” she said in her deep contralto.

Normally, he wouldn’t put her in charge of a squadron. She was a bit too hard-natured and would eventually wear relationships thin, but she had the aggressiveness he needed to ensure they maintained their foothold and shut down the Carthaginians’ ports.

“Good. You’re getting all five of our newest arrivals, so go easy on them. This will be good experience for them, but I don’t want anyone resigning because you drove them too hard.”

She looked displeased at being called out, especially publicly, but he needed the new captains to get the subtle warning. He hoped he wouldn’t get complaints, but it was best to prepare ahead.

“The rest of us will be sailing into the Middle Sea, with the goal of sinking everything floating. Although all of the charts I have of this area are older, there are several islands that we will eventually have to deal with, and I’m not ruling out putting garrisons on those as well. Especially those closest to Egypt and Persia. Until the Consul secures Italy and Greece, we’ll be pretty far from any support, so we’ll have to look at setting up additional way stations out there. Beyond that, and supporting the Consul’s movements, we’ll also be responsible for causing as much damage to Carthage’s ports in Africa as we can. There are too many to blockade them all, but if we set enough on fire, we can at least slow down any new ships they might build.”

“That’s a lot of water for thirteen ships to cover,” Járnsveinn said.

“I know, and that’s why we’ll probably split our fleet into small squadrons, but we can’t make that decision until we push further east. Prepare yourselves and remember, while we have the entire Middle Sea to deal with, our goal is to keep a path between here and Carthage open for the invasion. Got it?”

The captains all assented, most of them excited by the opportunities coming their way. The larger the fleet got, the more it would be split into separate commands, and it would be those with the most experience leading smaller squadrons that would be picked to lead them.

“Good. Let’s go start causing some havoc then,” Valdar said, eliciting cheers and laughter from his captains.

Now was the time they’d all been preparing for, and he knew they were as eager as he was to get started.

***

Daramouda

The sun had just made its way over the horizon as Ky picked his way through what remained of the port. All around him were scars from the recent siege. Collapsed buildings with walls cracked and blackened by fire, charred skeletons of ships partially submerged in the harbor, and cobblestone streets strewn with rubble and debris. The salty tang of the sea still mingled with the harsh smell of smoke. There was also a tinge of decay, in spite of how quickly his men had worked to remove the bodies of the deceased. It would be months before the port started looking like anything other than a war zone.

And yet, it was still bustling. The first temporary dock was already in place, with ships loading and unloading since it opened for business the day before, the activity continuing all through the night. There were other signs of the city being reconstructed. Although the day had only just begun, already the distant ring of hammers shaping metal could be heard. From where he stood, Ky could see makeshift cranes lifting stone blocks and crews of laborers clearing roads and hauling timber.

A cold wind whipped past him, causing some of those laborers to pull their cloaks tighter, sparking Ky’s mind to realize yet another thing he could introduce. Although styles of clothing were varied, with Germanics, Britannians, and even tribesmen from Hispania already starting to mix in the city, their clothing was inefficient compared to what Ky was used to. Or had been used to. There were easier ways to stay warm than cloaks and what were essentially ponchos, especially for laborers.

“Now that Hortensius has the new weaving facilities set up, we should send over designs for more advanced tailoring,” Ky subvocalized. “Coats, pants, that kind of thing. Something more efficient than the items people currently wear. It’ll start snowing soon.”

“I will make a note for the next time you or Lucilla have time to transcribe the instructions, although snow in this region is unlikely for several more months based on recorded historical averages,” the AI said, correcting him.

“Fine, but it’s still a good idea.”

“If you say so, Commander,” the AI replied.

Its tone remained emotionless, but Ky could feel the sarcasm in the statement all the same. Sophus’s progression hadn’t stopped since its transition into sentience, and the AI had recently started to be almost snarky at times. It was strange to get attitude from the machine, although it felt even stranger since the snark was devoid of emotion, almost making it more cutting.

Ky put the thought aside as he pushed open the door to the former Carthaginian barracks, which now served as the legion headquarters. The building was just as bustling as the rest of the city, handling the feeding and organization of nearly twenty thousand legionaries camped around the city. Idle armies, even loyal ones, tended to become rancorous if left to sit for too long, which meant they needed to set up training and tasks to keep them busy, which in turn generated a fair amount of work for their leaders.

Ky escaped the bustle as he made his way to the central chambers, where his legates and their tribunes were gathered, including Ursinus, who had made the ride down accompanied by several of the Germanic chieftains. This even included the chieftains of two local tribes who’d joined them after the Carthaginians were finally defeated. The first, although hopefully not the last, of the southern tribes to sign on to the alliance.

Making his way to the head of the table, Ky cleared his throat, quieting the murmuring in the room as all eyes turned to him.

“Thank you all for gathering here today. You’ve all done extraordinary work this year and, with the help of our new allies, we’ve cleared the entire western half of the continent from Hispania to the northern sea of the Carthaginian scourge. Hopefully for good. We’ve weakened them, taken away a major source of innocent people they can conscript into their armies, and a large portion of the resources they could steal from the land, but they aren’t out of this fight yet. Now that winter is nearly upon us, it’s time to start planning for the coming year’s campaign, to ensure they never return.”

A murmur of agreement rippled through the group as Ky turned to Bomilcar.

“General, you and the Seventh Legion will remain in Daramouda. You’re to work with our new allies here and, hopefully, reach out to other tribes to continue to expand the alliance. Valdar, or his people, are going to be doing the same from the port to the south, so hopefully, between the two of you, we can build something here the way we did in the north. These people have been under the Carthaginian boot a lot longer, so they’re going to need help to recover and find their way back to self-governance. I’m sure that will come with growing pains, so I want you to ensure we maintain order, help with rebuilding efforts, and keep watch for any Carthaginians or their supporters in the area. I’m not sure if the Carthaginians will send any forces up through Greece or Italy to try to reclaim the region, but you should be prepared for that possibility. Keep your scouts out and get what assistance you can from the locals.”

At Bomilcar’s nod, Ky moved on. Of all his commanders, he trusted the former Carthaginian to make the right decisions and keep the large swath of southern Europe and Iberia under control through the winter.

Turning his attention to Ursinus, Ky said, “Ursinus, you and the Fifth Legion are to hold in Germania. Although I doubt they’ll send any significant forces that far north, they still control the land to your east, so be alert. Continue to work with our allies and assist them with any requests they might have, within reason. I know this is their second winter out from under Carthaginian control, but the enemy did a lot of damage in the spring that has seriously affected the harvests. The Empress is already aware of the situation, and Britannia is standing ready to send relief supplies as needed.”

“Thank you, Consul,” Bernie, the chieftain of the Anarti, the furthest east tribe they’d allied with, said.

“It’s what allies do,” Ky replied. “If we hope to build an alliance across the continent and keep anything like the Carthaginian scourge from happening again, we’ll have to work together.”

“I assume you’re calling out our legions specifically for a reason,” Bomilcar said, jumping beyond Ky’s announcements.

“Yes. I’m leaving the defense of the continent, at least over the winter, to the two of you. I’m returning to Britannia with the Second, Third, Fourth, and Ninth legions. We’ll reinforce both of your forces from their men before we leave, and they’ll get the new recruits currently training in Britannia to make up for those losses. We’ll spend the winter replenishing our ranks, retraining with the new men, and refitting, in preparation for the spring campaign.”

“Do you already know where you plan on attacking in the spring?” Givellan, chieftain of the Vandili, asked.

“Yes. Our first targets will be Italy and Sicilia. By the time we win those fights, Valdar’s fleet will hopefully be in control of the bulk of the Middle Sea, allowing us to launch an invasion of Africa itself. We will most likely be taking all of our legions for that campaign, which will leave you to protect your own lands, although we will ensure arms shipments continue to assist with that, in line with the terms of our alliance.”

The legates already knew this, or at least suspected that would be their next move, but the allied tribal leaders all seemed pleased at the revelation. While they needed the Britannians, and more importantly the Britannians’ weapons, some of them had spent a lifetime living in occupied territory. The last thing they wanted was to exchange one overlord for another, regardless of how friendly that lordship seemed to be.

Turning back to Bomilcar, Ky said, “I will be meeting with Faenius as soon as I return to Britannia. I am giving the Praetorians control of the line of forts built by Velius. They’ll be more lightly manned than originally intended, but we can use them to establish secure lines of communication back to Britannia using the new telegraph system. We can then extend that line as our forces move east.”

“What about Port Invictus?” Aelius asked. “If my understanding of how these lines work is correct, you’ll be turning it north and then across the most shallow part of the water between the continent and Britannia. Port Invictus is in the wrong direction.”

“You’re right, it is. We’re abandoning Port Invictus. It made sense to take it during our initial invasion, but it’s redundant now that Valdar’s taken control of the port of Kalb. Kalb will serve as our main supply hub for the time being. There is another project I’ve been pushing that will allow us to rapidly transport supplies over long distances. I’m hopeful we can get it to a functional point before winter ends, which will make whatever port we use closest to Britannia our main crossing point. Working on that project is another reason I am returning to Devnum.”

The meeting went on for several more hours, mostly with questions from the chieftains, trying to determine how much support they were going to get moving forward, what was going to be asked of them, and trying to determine how much danger they were in now that they had openly declared for the Britannians. Ky was able to set a lot of their fears at ease, but some of the questions just couldn’t be answered. In spite of their technological advantages and the rapidly weakening position of the Carthaginians, a lot was still up in the air. War could be unpredictable, no matter how the battlefield looked, and Ky was unwilling to give assurances about the unknown.

“You’ve all done tremendous work so far and should be proud of everything you’ve accomplished,” Ky said as the meeting broke up. “I want you to prepare yourselves. The Carthaginians are weakened, but they are not out of this fight yet. There’s still a long road ahead of us. Don’t let yourselves become too confident now that the momentum is starting to shift in our favor. Let’s not allow it to fall apart now. Stay strong.”

He paused to look at each of the men, making sure his message was getting through.

“The gods willing, we’re about to enter the last phase of this conflict. For Britannia!”

The legates jumped to their feet, fists slamming into the table, echoing, “For Britannia!”

To Be Continued …