The Sands of Saturn - Chapter 18

“How are you feeling?” Lucilla asked, looking down at Hortensius, who stirred at her voice.

“Thankful to be alive,” he said, his voice croaking. “I hear you played some part in keeping me alive while I healed.”

“Only a small part,” she said, knowing he’d understand, since he knew she could communicate with Ky, and he was ultimately the source of the knowledge that helped keep him alive.

“They let me look over this breathing apparatus you had them build. It’s got some interesting components, although I can see a few places you could have made it better. Not needing someone pumping on it day and night, for one.”

“We were limited on time, although I’m sure the physicians wouldn’t mind if you perfected it. I imagine it could be used in the future by people who can’t afford to pay for an army of workers to always be available to keep air flowing.”

“Maybe,” he said, looking thoughtful. “Maybe.”

“Did they give you any indication of when you can go home?”

“They want me out today. Apparently, now that I’m awake, they want this bed for someone else.”

“And when can you come back to work?” she asked, then realized how that sounded. “Not that I want you to rush your recovery, but I’m a poor replacement and I feel like I’m drowning just trying to keep up with a fraction of your workload.”

“Which makes you sane,” he said, letting out a laugh that halfway through turned into a cough. “Your luck isn’t that good, unfortunately. My chest is doing better, although it hurts every time I breathe. They said they had no treatment for it, apparently, the Consul’s last conversation with them included taking away most of their cures. They think it could heal on its own, but they wouldn’t actually promise anything. I thought maybe the Consul could tell me differently, but until he makes it back, I’ll have to live with it. Unfortunately, I might be limping forever. They want me to keep off my leg for a while longer, so that’s going to slow me down, which means I’m going to need your help a while longer. So, no one here could tell me. How much damage did the fire do?”

“Explosion,” Lucilla said, the strange word still feeling awkward in her mouth.

“Clap?” he asked, understanding part of the word she said, which was oddly the first thing she’d said when she’d heard Ky use it the first time.

“It’s the word Ky used to describe what happens when the gunpowder goes off. You probably didn’t hear it, since you were so close, but it kind of did sound like a clap, although one that was done by the Titans. As for the damage, the whole building is gone. The only reason you survived was because you were outside when it happened. It threw you through the air like thrashed straw.”

“Sabotage?”

“No. Probably an errant spark set it off.”

“We’re going to have to make new safety procedures.”

“We already have, although you’re welcome to check my work. Thankfully, we only lost a little product, since everything but the supplies needed for one day’s production was stored off-site. It slowed us down a little bit, but we already have a new factory running, so we’re only a little behind on our goals.”

“See, you hardly need me.”

“Nonsense. The only reason everything is still running is because you trained your men well, and they’ve carried on. We’ve made progress on the cannons, although you’re going to have to remake the molds, and we’ve almost got the new docks built so we can start construction on the ships Ky has described. We’re falling behind on the semaphore stations and we have questions about some of your modifications, but we were able to make good progress on the looking glasses.”

“Again, I don’t see what you need from me.”

“That was all the good stuff, now let me tell you the problems we’ve been having,” she said, pulling up a stool next to the bed and settling in for what was almost certainly going to be a long conversation.

***

Southern Ériunia

Velius frowned as he watched the legions marching past him. Progress had been much slower than he’d hoped, to the point he was concerned the Carthaginians and their local allies would begin trying to outmaneuver him, instead of holding until he got in range. If he was able to threaten their supply lines or get on their flanks, they’d be forced to move, allowing him to choose the field of battle. If they came directly for him, they would get to pick where the fight happened, and if they were smart, they’d find a spot that negated some of his advantages.

That was partly why he was trying to push his men south as hard as he could, to get into the southern coastal plains, where the trees thinned out, giving his cavalry room to maneuver. The Carthaginians were almost entirely infantry, with very few mounted soldiers. His greater weight in horsemen coupled with how maneuverable they were, allowed his men to hit the Carthaginians on the flanks and from behind, which would force part of their force to turn and address the threat. He didn’t have enough cavalry to actually cut into their forces, but if his men kept hitting and moving away, always targeting different spots along the Carthaginian line, they could cause havoc and confusion that would help negate the Carthaginian manpower advantage.

Right now, he was still crossing through passes between mountainous regions and down into a forested area that limited his visibility and gave very little opportunity for his cavalry to run free. If the fight happened here, it would be a contest of infantry, which would not work in Velius’s favor. Worse, the heavy tree cover would also hamper the advantages the arcuballista they brought, since the range would be too short to concentrate their fire on one section of the line like he did in the last battle.

From what his scouts had reported, the Carthaginian force was huge. Maybe not the size of the one they had fought to win control of Britannia, but still several times greater than Velius’s army. It appeared to be mostly locals, with the Carthaginians making up a small fraction of the fighting force, which would help, since they seemed to be as undisciplined as his allies, but if the Carthaginians did maintain control of them, the numbers were still too far in their favor for Velius to take them in a straight up fight. Or at least not without getting torn to shreds doing it.

No, to win this, he needed every advantage to maneuver. Although he wouldn’t be able to make a specific plan until he knew what kind of ground he was dealing with, he was most likely going to have to split his already outnumbered force and find a way to hit them from multiple directions simultaneously. Without Ky’s ability to signal a separated force, that would be difficult, but it wasn’t unheard of, and his men had been training for just this kind of thing on the days they stopped to allow their supply lines to catch up.

But first, he had to get out of these mountains and forests. His men were moving at a brisk pace and would already be clear of the mountains and halfway through the forests below if they weren’t being slowed by their local allies. Three times, he had to stop when the Ulaid allies decided they needed to sack a nearby village, simply because it was on the land of one of their enemies. In every case, they were small, poor farming villages that couldn’t have had much to take anyway, and yet he’d lost a day at each one trying to get their leaders to get them back in line and on the march. Even on the march, they were slow and lumbering, treating the campaign as some kind of holiday instead of a fight for their very lives.

Having been in one of these fights very recently, he couldn’t understand why they weren’t taking it seriously. Maybe it was because nearly every man sent by Conchobar to fight with them was a conscript and not a soldier, or maybe because most weren’t aware of how badly their kingdom had fared to this point, but either way, what Velius really wanted to do was leave them behind. As fighters, they’d be all but useless, and he’d have to focus more on keeping them out of the way of his legionnaires than on how to properly use them. It was sad that most would die before the campaign was over, but that would be something for the Ulaid to deal with. Velius had been sent to push the Carthaginians off this island and keep them from being able to launch new attacks on Britannia, and that was what he was going to do.

Maybe, if they decided to join the Empire, they’d be able to add men to the corps that could be trained as real soldiers. As men, they weren’t a complete loss. In general, they had bravery and a willingness to fight. What they lacked was discipline and training, things not valued by most of the kingdoms on Ériunia.

His thoughts were interrupted when a rider came charging up the slope towards them.

“A messenger from the scouting parties,” one of Velius’s aides said, recognizing the man.

“Report,” Velius said when the man rode up, looking tired and saddle worn.

“The Carthaginians are on the move. Their army began pulling out two days ago, marching north. They’ve begun pushing our scouts back more aggressively, making it hard to get a good read on them, but we’ve started seeing some additional forces coming from the east, joining the main body.”

“Carthaginian phalanxes?”

“No. Locals, but a good number of them. Well over a thousand they think, although it’s hard to get a good read on the real number. The optio in charge of the eastern scouts didn’t want to send his men deeper into the area they’ve started cordoning off. The locals aren’t friendly and we’ve had to dodge villages and farmers to keep from having our locations fed to the Carthaginians.”

“Sensible. Ride back and inform them to track the Carthaginian forces as best they can, but don’t take unnecessary risks.”

The messenger saluted and turned his horse to ride back out. It was likely the man was already exhausted, but they were all going to be tired by the time this was over, so he’d just have to do the best he could.

“Why keep them back?” Llassar asked, watching the man go. “It’s worth losing some men if it tells us their position.”

“I don’t think they’re going to go north of these mountains. This is the first Carthaginian army I’ve seen that is made up of more local units than phalanxes, which means they are running short on their own men. It’s probably why they pulled all the way back here, instead of trying to intercept us like the previous army did, and why they’ve had their allies all but empty their own territories.”

“That couldn’t be popular with their allies. To them, a victory is sacking a city and running off with plunder and slaves. Hell, before joining your people, we hardly ever fought large battles like you keep doing. There would be a few battles, some sacks, and then everyone would back off and the war would be over. Sometimes territory changed hands, but not often. This way of war is different from what they are used to.”

“Which is why they’re moving now that we’re clear of the mountains. They can’t just wait for us forever, so they’re going to bring the fight to us.”

“So, what are we going to do? If they’re coming for us and we can’t run and can’t take them head-on, it doesn’t leave a lot of options for us.”

“I don’t know yet. Hopefully, I’ll think of something clever.”

***

Devnum

“Are you sure you’re well enough?” Lucilla asked for the thirtieth time that morning.

She had predicted Hortensius wouldn’t make it two weeks lying in bed, resting while he recovered. It turned out that was wildly optimistic, as the manufacturer started making noises almost immediately and twice the woman Lucilla hired to tend to him at home had to chastise him to get back into bed after he tried to hobble his way out of the house.

Finally, Sophus came to the rescue and described a design for a wheeled chair that he could use to move around while still letting his leg rest. Weirdly, Hortensius had heard of that before. Apparently, there were records of the Greeks making something like that a long time ago, and from time to time, someone dug it up and tried to recreate it. He was at first very dismissive of the idea, because everyone who had tried to recreate it ran into the same problem.

Roman roads and even buildings weren’t exactly flat and free of obstructions. The best-case scenario was a dirt road that had been worn flat, but those became impassible when it rained, which is why the most critical areas of town had more or less flat stones pressed close together, forming an artificial surface. This was fine for carts and the like, whose large wheels moved across the small gaps in the stones without much issue, but it didn’t work for the smaller wheels that would have to be used on a chair with wheels. Apparently, someone had once tried to use a wider wheel like a cart, but that had made the chair almost impossible to move.

Sophus had thought of this, and its suggestions were enough to almost make things worse, since Hortensius wanted to go straight to the foundries to inspect the developments. It took time, but Lucilla convinced him to be patient and let his foremen have the first shot at making the chair, and he could have a more active hand once he was mobile again.

The thing that got him most excited was another advancement in steel. It was apparently a big advancement, although Lucilla didn’t really understand what the excitement was about. According to Sophus, they’d already advanced to making something it called Wootz steel. She made the mistake of asking what that was, only to cut Sophus off after ten minutes of explanation she couldn’t follow at all. The change was in the process of heat treating the steel a second time, making it able to bend slightly and return to its original shape. It apparently wasn’t as good as something called ‘spring steel’ but it should work for his chair design.

The steel was what got Hortensius excited. Apparently, a steel that could bend slightly under heavy pressure, instead of breaking when it passed its tension point had all kinds of implications for building, both in weapons and tools and in making buildings themselves.

For now, they were limiting it to a single design Sophus had called a ‘leaf spring’ that looked almost like part of an eye in the top and bottom facing towards each other, where they connected together in a stronger, non-bending piece of metal. After she explained it to Hortensius, using Sophus’s words, the manufacturer instantly got the idea and was already making notes for several of his assistants to begin working on it.

The downside of all of that was that Lucilla had to remain in the foundry for almost the entire week, overseeing the production of these leaf springs. She was there so often that the workers had even started adapting to her occasionally clearing the workshop floor, to allow her to deploy the drone so Sophus could see the project firsthand. Its close observation of the production meant that they hadn’t needed to start over numerous times like they’d had for the cannon, since Sophus had been able to identify errors and problems while they were still able to be corrected.

That week’s worth of work had resulted in Hortensius being pushed down the street by an aide, his leg supported straight out in front of him, successfully being kept from jostling or becoming further injured by the chair that bounced with the ground while he stayed more or less stationary. Although she was still having trouble believing that he wasn’t causing himself more injury, Hortensius was having the time of his life.

“Absolutely, my lady. This is simply amazing. Wait until we adapt this for carts to carry people. Imagine being able to ride on one without being thrown this way and that as the wheels bounce in ruts and divots. Or having half of a shipment of goods end up broken by the rough transport from the ports. I tell you; this is going to change shipping completely.”

“It probably will, but first we should focus on things we can use for the progress of the war.”

“Right. Right. The docks have come along nicely. I have to commend you on your work.”

“That was mostly Lucan’s doing,” she said.

Shortly before the accident, Hortensius had settled on Herius Gratius Lucan to handle the shipbuilding project. Although he wasn’t the most experienced of Britannia’s very limited supply of shipbuilders, he was the most flexible and most likely to adapt to the proposed changes. Having spoken to him numerous times, Lucilla found him stubborn, obstinate, and questioning of everything she suggested. She couldn’t imagine how bad the other men were for Lucan to be their best choice, but she trusted Hortensius’s judgment. Although it had taken browbeating and the occasional reminder of their relative positions of power, explanations of every single thing that needed to be done, and reminders of who was paying for this project, he had made excellent progress.

The new “dry docks,” which Ky sometimes called a slipway, weren’t all that much of a problem, since they at least followed the general pattern of how Romans built ships. The main difference was that these were built to be permanent. Rome had built very few ships in the last hundred years, relying mostly on people like the Scandi for what limited maritime trade they did. Of the ships they did build, most were small fishing ships built on the beaches by villagers. The handful of larger ships they had built were all one-offs, with temporary frameworks and scaffolding built at the edge of the docks, so the boat could be pushed into the water when it was finished.

The new, built-in docks, designed so that when finished, the ship could be released into the water down a ramp, were similar to this, except that there was what almost looked like a warehouse around it with permanent scaffolding that could move into place as the ship was built from the keel up.

Its similarity to the traditional Roman methods had allowed the dockyard to go up fairly quickly, and within just a few months they had the facilities to build up to five ships simultaneously, which seemed like overkill to Lucilla, but Ky had promised they would be important as time went on.

No, the real problem had started as she handed the plans of the new ship to Lucan, who thought everything about these tall ships, with their large and weirdly shaped sails and no placement for rowers was wrong.

“And he’s started constructing the first ships,” he said as they entered one of the covered buildings where a ship was being built.

“Mostly. There have been … disagreements.”

“Yes, Lucan can be stubborn. I’ll talk to him, but honestly, in this area, you’re going to have to continue being highly involved. I can understand some of the changes the Consul is introducing, or at least the long-term implications of them, but this is well outside of my expertise, and I wouldn’t know how to answer his questions or concerns.”

“I was afraid you might say that. I don’t love being called an ‘idiot child’ every other day.”

“Don’t take it to heart. Lucan is like that with everyone. He doesn’t have the patience to follow social norms or niceties, which is why he’s so rarely used on large-scale projects. Those of us who know good work, however, know what he’s worth.”

“I’ll figure out a way to deal with him. Besides, he’s not the worst part of this project. These ships are costing a fortune to build and the Senate has yet to accept that they are a necessity.”

“I don’t know about being a necessity for war, but if the figures for what these ships can carry is true, they will do wonders for our trade. Although they’re going to be limited on what ports they can go into, since many of our docks are built for much shallower drafted ships. They couldn’t go into Londinium, for one.”

“Ky’s already taken that into account. He’s still primarily interested in how they’ll do carrying troops and supplies, but he figured once you and some of the merchants heard what they could do, you’d be interested.”

“I am, although that brings up another problem. From my understanding, reading over the Consul’s notes, these ships are going to need a skilled crew, with specialized knowledge of sails, rope use, and the like. I also saw a mention of maybe even putting the cannon we’re developing onto these ships, although for the life of me, I can’t imagine how that would work. Not with the way ships move up and down with the waves. I guess … Sorry, too many things in my head at once. What I meant was, until it was outlawed, rowers were predominantly slaves and their most important skill was a strong back. We’re going to have a problem finding anyone who’s worked a large, deep drafting sail-driven ship before, let alone enough people to put on one of these.”

“I actually have an idea how to address that,” Lucilla said. “There’s a chance we have more people available to us with experience sailing ships than you realize.”