The Trumpets of Mars (Imperium #2) - Chapter 10

Caledonii Training Camp, Outside Devnum

Lucilla was out again, watching men train. Although she had been given Ky’s proxy and had been feeding him reports, she found that it hadn’t added that much to her actual schedule. Since shortly before the insurrection, Ky had been handing off more responsibilities to the commanders and business leaders overseeing the tasks needing to be done, and not getting involved in the day-to-day business of any of them.

That had made Lucilla happy when he’d first done it, since she’d been watching him work at a pace that seemed impossible to keep up, even with his super-human abilities. Now though, she wished he’d delegated a little less, to at least give her something to do where she could feel useful, especially after pushing so hard to make sure everyone took her seriously in this new role.

Her solution to the problem had been to spend time observing the various units train and taking tours of the factories and foundries. Unlike Ky, who had Sophus in his head feeding him what seemed like an infinite supply of information, Lucilla didn’t understand most of the more technical details, especially when it came to the factories. The parts she did understand all seemed to be well supervised, and she’d just be in the way if she tried to get involved.

She instead took a page from her father, who she’d watched govern her entire life. He would often just sit and listen to his advisors and watch the mechanisms of government-run without giving much in the way of comments. He found that, if people knew they were being observed and got the occasional positive feedback on their efforts, they tended to work harder. He did, occasionally, offer input when he saw something headed the wrong way, but he didn’t believe in micromanaging the people he’d delegated to do the work.

Which is why she was watching the Caledonii learn to fight with the Romans. Since these were the men who’d chosen not to join the legions themselves, and wanted to fight in their own traditions, they weren’t learning to fight mixed in with the legions themselves, since that would weaken the strengths of both units. Instead, they had been loaned a century and they were learning to fight on the wings of the arm as skirmishers and light infantry, while remaining in close contact with the heavier Roman infantry, instead of charging ahead, leaving both their and the Romans' flanks exposed.

Romans had fought with auxiliaries as light infantry for some time. It wasn’t a new thing for them, but the Caledonii had been used to a less tactical form of warfare and were having trouble keeping their vigor in check. Or so it appeared to Lucilla from where she sat.

She saw her guards bristle slightly, which was usually an indicator of someone approaching her. Ever since the killings had started, but especially since the Senator, they had been on high alert, becoming wildly overprotective, in her opinion.

She turned to find Llassar approaching her on horseback. She’d rarely seen him on the back of a horse and found it a novel sight, but he rode with ease, which suggested he’d spent a fair time astride one in the past. She’d noticed him throughout the morning, riding here and there, working with his men. She had not, until this moment, noticed him coming this way, however.

“Good morning, little bird,” he said as he rode up.

“How long are all of you going to keep calling me that?”

“For a long time, I imagine. Don’t think of it as an insult, although I know that’s the way it was used the other day.”

“How does that make it not an insult?”

“There’s a story that goes far back before you people ever came to this island and we were still living in the south. It's called Culhwch and Olwen. Culhwch wanted to marry Olwen, the beautiful daughter of a giant. The problem was the giant was prophesied to die the night of his daughter’s wedding. The chieftain sent the young warrior on an impossible task. He was to retrieve the three birds of Rhiannon, who could ‘wake the dead and lull the living to sleep.’ The rest of the story is of daring deeds and winning the hand of the one he loved, but the birds have lived on as something greater than the legend and are a popular reference point among my people. The men couldn’t help but notice you left the man who faced you in the dirt, sleeping like a baby and have heard the stories of how you barely escaped death and brought someone to save your father, who was also supposed to die. So, when they call you little bird, they are saying you are one of the birds of Rhiannon. It is a very high compliment.”

“Ohh,” Lucilla said.

Despite living in close proximity to their people her entire life, Lucilla realized she didn’t know much about the Caledonii, especially their culture and customs.

“I heard a story that you and some of the men went drinking the other day,” he said, changing the subject.

“Did you?” she asked, feigning disinterest.

The whole interaction with the Caledonii warriors was still perplexing to her, and she was unsure of how they’d take letting a woman get the best of them again.

“I also heard that you walked out of the bar without even a wobble in your step, while the very large men who’d gone in with you were unable to stand on their own and had to be carried out.”

“Maybe your men should learn to hold their drinks better,” she said, a slight smile escaping in spite of herself. “Or maybe you should send some of your women with me instead, so we can drink longer.”

Llassar leaned, letting out a bellowing laugh that went on for several seconds before he straightened himself and wiped the tears from his eyes.

“I will ask around and see if there are any brave souls among them,” he said. He turned his horse to leave, then paused and looked back. “If you keep leaving unconscious men in your wake everywhere you go, I think the name ‘little bird’ will probably stick around for a while.”

Lucilla stayed and watched the Caledonians for a while longer. She was just considering where to go next, when a messenger from Velius arrived requesting her presence at his command tent. The request was worded with the normal pleasantries expected when addressing someone of her station, which meant it only said ‘as soon as she found convenient’ but the harried nature of the message suggested he had been sent out urgently, and she should probably delay as little as possible.

Since Velius was in overall command of all of Rome’s military, the Seventh legion was camped more or less in the middle of all of the legions separate training grounds, meaning it didn’t take her very long to ride from the Caledonii training fields to where the Seventh was training.

As she approached, his guards pulled the tent flaps back, a clear sign to go straight in. Normal decorum suggested they meet outside, she and he both being single, so the gesture surprised her until she saw that the large tent was already full of other officers from all of the legions. Which is why she wasn’t surprised to see Llassar enter the tent a few minutes after her. The thing that did throw her was the presence of Ramirus, who usually worked closely with the Emperor and senators, but rarely came out to the legions. His being there suggested something had changed.

“Good, you’re all here and we can begin,” Velius said, bringing the group to silence. “So far, we’ve been operating under the assumption that the Carthaginian attack would come after the snows thawed, which won’t be until about three months from now. This was mostly based on normal military operations we’ve seen from them in the past, and not on any specific intel. That made it a guess, but we were all comfortable with the assumption, because moving an army in freezing temperatures will kill off most of your army.”

“Maybe for you southerners,” Llassar said, which surprisingly got a chuckle out of the rest of the men.

Considering how hostile even the most loyal legates had been to be bringing Caledonii warriors into the fold, Lucilla had expected that kind of comment to cause the men to bristle. It was possible it just didn’t take long for men like this to bond on a soldierly level, or perhaps they’d been working more closely together than she’d noticed until now. Either way, the fact that one of the Caledonii could make a joke at the expense of the Roman legions and the legates not take it personally was a good sign that there might be some hope for this cooperation yet.

“Sure, but that would go doubly for our Carthaginian friends. Our reports suggest that most of the troops sent to replace what they lost in the last battle and bolster their forces came from tribal auxiliaries in Iberia, they’d have even less of a reason to begin their march before the snows thawed. From all of the reports we’ve gotten, they’ve bled most of the villages in the area they control dry, and they rarely run long supply lines, preferring to strip the countryside bare to feed their armies. This time of the year, there’d be hardly anything left to take. Any people they run across will be halfway through the food they’d stored for the winter, so supply would be a major problem too.”

“I hear a ‘but’ coming,” Lucilla said.

“Unfortunately, you are correct. Our assumptions seem to have been wrong. We’ve been running small patrols along the southern border where their last advance stopped, and we’ve picked up three Carthaginian scouts, all headed north and all along the main road that ran through Venonis, before they burned it to the ground. It’s the direct route to Londinium, the one their last army took, and the one their new attack will almost certainly use. One might be something routine, making sure we aren’t making any moves, but three is definitely a prelude to an invasion.”

“What does this mean for our timetable?” Lucilla asked.

“I don’t know. Best case, they’re just being over-prepared and they’ll still move at the first thaw, but I don’t think so. Their current governor has never shown much interest in being clever and he’s amazingly arrogant, so I don’t think he’s the type to play things either safe or careful. If his generals are sending scouts, then they’re building up to their attack. As to when? I don’t know.”

“My last reports say they are still unloading men from the mainland,” Ramirus said. “They’ve had issues with the weather slowing down their troop transports and one has gone down entirely with more than a hundred men aboard. My best guess is they won’t be able to move for a month at least. That would still be a lot earlier than all of our previous estimates and doesn’t leave us a lot of time to finish production. I am going to speak to Hortensius later today about the production of military supplies, but he is already running three shifts flat out as it is. It seems unlikely he will be able to increase production much more than its current level. We may find ourselves running short of just about everything.”

“I’m not sure this leaves us any choice,” Lucilla said. “We have the basics of Ky’s plan now. I think it’s time we shift from general training to preparing for his plan. Although it requires some of his abilities to make it work, there will still be the need for tight coordination among our forces, especially between the legions and the Caledonian warriors, if I understand the plan correctly. I would suggest you start practicing that coordination now, so when the Consul returns, we will be ready to execute his plan.”

“I agree,” Velius said. “Llassar and I will work on a training schedule now and should be able to start drills in the next few days. I will be speaking with each legate about preparing for full-scale training of all legions simultaneously, which should be able to start as soon as two or three weeks from now. It still gives us less time than I’d like to train for something this complex, but we will at least be partially ready for it.”

“I also believe the plan requires some of our engineers to begin with their preparations now if they are going to be ready a month from now. They also need to keep in mind that the ground will continue to have snow on it. I’m not sure what effect that will have on the theories and mixtures that Ky has given them to prepare.”

“Without the Consul, I’m not sure they know, either,” Ramirus said.

“I will send word to him and check the information he left for me. Hopefully, I will be able to provide something of an answer for that soon. Is there any other bad news you have for me?” Lucilla asked.

“No, my lady.”

“Then I believe you have a lot of work to do and a very short time to do it.”

The rest of the day was spent advancing training schedules to the bare minimums that the commanders felt they could allow, and still be able to execute the outlined battle plans Ky had explained. For some of the commanders, they’d probably cut too much training, but Velius was a realist and had cut down any arguments over why they should continue training just one week more.

They also increased patrols further south into what was nominally Carthage-held territory, which would hopefully give them enough warning that, if the Carthaginians moved while they were still in training, they could get the legions formed up and ready in time. That was all necessary planning, but what they really needed was for Ky to come back from the north as soon as possible, since the most crucial parts of his play relied on his special abilities, which nothing they could do could replicate.

Lucilla sat quietly through it all, listening and absorbing as much as she could, although she knew Sophus was listening passively through the device Ky had given her, and would be recording it on its own. She had clicked the device to make it chime once, which was the signal that it should start listening and recording to what was happening, so it could pass the information on more accurately than she would have been able to do. Still, she felt she had an obligation to try and understand as much of it as she could. Some of the moves she didn’t fully understand the need for, but she’d check with Ky or Sophus later about them before she voiced any concerns to the commanders.

It was almost dark when she started her way back home. Velius had offered her to use the tent they kept prepared for Ky but there were several progress meetings Hortensius was holding that she didn’t want to miss. A stay in the camps would mean waking before daylight to get into town and to the industrial district in time to join them.

Her guard captain was on edge as they entered the city. Even though she had four men protecting her, all highly trained and armed, the death of Norbanus had put him on edge. He’d even tried to talk her into staying at the legion camp for the evening and returning early in the morning, since that would be harder to predict for anyone who might be tracking her movements.

Velius had even offered to send a detachment to escort her home, but she’d nixed that idea straight away. She was already having trouble getting Romans to take a woman as the voice of the Consul seriously. The last thing she needed was people seeing her with a large armed escort sneaking back into town.

She regretted that decision the moment the first man stepped into the street. She recognized his type instantly, with his shabby tunic with the blue splash across one shoulder. He was a member of one of the several bands of street toughs who hired themselves out as muscle. Her father had tried to get rid of the bands of thugs many times, but they were often used by the rich and powerful as bodyguards or to convince citizens how to vote during important elections. Besides the men who liked to use their services, when times were slim the toughs tended to find alternative work as thieves and brigands, which had led the city guard to suggest it was better to at least keep them employed and accounted for.

One of the toughs would be no challenge for her guards, had he been alone. Unfortunately, his appearance was rapidly followed by eleven more men bringing the numbers to an even dozen. Even with their armor and better skill, three on one was poor odds.

Her men moved swiftly, forming themselves around her in a protective barrier. Lucilla wasn’t prepared to stand and wait for one of the toughs to get through her men like a condemned man waiting at the gallows. She’d been training for something specifically like this. She might not be able to even the odds, but she wasn’t going to go down meekly.

Her guard captain pulled the extra sword he carried at her request and handed it back to her. Although she’d been training every day with it, now that she had to use it for real, the rough leather wrappings around the wooden handle felt hard and uncomfortable, biting into her palm as she gripped it hard. She could hear the blood pounding in her ears as everyone looked at each other for a moment.

There wasn’t a demand for her surrender or any kind of declaration. At some unheard signal, the toughs all charged in as one. Her men met them head-on as she just stood there, watching, knowing better than to get into their way. For a second, she thought they might actually be successful as two and then three of the toughs fell to her men’s blades, their training giving the men a definite edge. That hope was smashed when the first of her men fell as he opened himself up to being skewered in the side while parrying another man’s thrust.

His killer didn’t hesitate, dodging around the still falling guardsman and coming straight at her. The expression on his face changed from one of victory to surprise as he looked up after getting around the dying guardsman to see Lucilla’s sword plunging into his chest.

His momentary victory had done its part, it wasn’t enough. One of the guardsmen fell trying to move and cover both sides at once. It was a foolish move, but with his side open and his charge in danger, he probably had felt like he hadn’t been left any other choice.

She lifted her sword in a guard position, causing the two men to pause. Like their dead friend, they probably had not expected their target, a pampered rich woman, to be able to defend herself. She knew that pause wouldn’t last long and she only had a second until they were upon her, when every one of the combatants turned at the sound of shouts and heavy footfalls.

Appearing seemingly out of nowhere, ten large Caledonii warriors were suddenly charging into them. The street toughs, who recognize the odds had suddenly shifted dramatically out of their favor, tried to turn and run. It was a futile gesture.

Lucilla had wished that they would have left one of the men alive for questioning, but she couldn’t fault her guards or their surprise rescuers. As the last of the attackers fell to multiple blades, Lucilla realized she recognized one of the Caledonii who’d swopped in to rescue them. She’d never gotten his name, but he’d been the one to stick her with the nickname all of the north men had started using for her, just before she’d put him down into the dirt, hard.

“You?”

“Cynwrig,” he offered, and then gestured at her sword, blood dripping from it. “I’m glad I didn’t anger you too much the other day, little bird.”

“What are you men doing here?”

“Llassar had heard about the killing in your city and your foolish decline of an armed escort and sent word for volunteers to intercept you in town and follow you, to make sure you were safe.”

“We shouldn’t stay here, my lady,” the guard commander said, his eyes still on the buildings around them. “There could be more.”

“You’re right. Will you men accompany us to the palace?”

“Finally, a smart decision,” he said, his men forming up around them. “Bredei, go tell Llassar what has happened.”

One of the men broke off and began running away from them to the south where the Caledonian’s were camped.

“What about the men?” she asked her guard commander, looking back at the two fallen guards.

“I’ll send a detail back to retrieve their bodies as soon as you are safely in the palace, my lady.”

“But shouldn’t we …”

“It’s what they would have wanted, my lady. They died keeping you safe. They wouldn’t want you to put yourself in further danger trying to carry their bodies home. We will retrieve them, I promise.”

Lucilla conceded the point and let the matter drop. The list of people who had died to protect her continued to grow, and she hated it. She was surprised that she still got volunteers for her detail at all, considering the mortality rate.

What she wasn’t surprised by in the least, was Llassar showing up to the palace shortly after they arrived. Even though they were now under the protection of not only her guards but the praetorians surrounding and guarding the palace, none of her rescuers would agree to leave her. She had barely gotten into her father’s reception room when the Caledonii commander came running in, followed closely by Ramirus, who hadn’t been sent for but whose eyes and ears were everywhere. He’d probably heard about the attack as soon as she got back to the palace complex, or at least the unusual sight of the Caledonii warriors escorting her home.

It was interesting watching Cynwrig and his compatriots take up positions roughly equal to her guards, almost mirroring them, out of the way but available.

“What happened?” her father asked, his own guards having informed him about the commotion and the particular gathering of people suggesting whatever it was must have been bad.

“We were attacked on the way home from the legion camps,” Lucilla said and then held up a hand before her father could explode with questions. “I am fine, although I lost two of my guardsman.”

“But then why …” Ramirus started, his eyes darting to Llassar before trailing off.

Ramirus, for all of his worldly ways, had not spent a lot of time around their visiting Caledonii, always too wrapped up in reports from his little spies to go out and see things first hand. Although he’d followed his Emperor’s wishes, he was one of the Romans that had been adjusting slowly to their visitor’s presence.

Of course, the message had still gone out loud and clear and Llassar was a sharp man. He knew what Ramirus was asking without it being said.

“She foolishly turned down the offer of additional armed escorts by your legion commander, who was clearly worried about her safety. I’d heard about the death of your senator, and it was obvious everyone but her thought traveling with just her guards was dangerous, so I sent for men to shadow her on her journey home, just in case. What happened?”

Since he’d arrived at the same time Ramirus had, Llassar didn’t actually know any more than the spymaster, which is why the last words had been directed at Cynwrig.

“We ran as fast as we could and had some trouble finding them, since only one of us had explored the city much. It was actually the sounds of fighting that drew us to them. When we arrived, two of her guards were already down and she and the remaining two were fighting well. They had been well outnumbered. The attackers were focused on their victims and had no idea we were there until we fell upon them. Once the attackers were down, we escorted the lady and her men back here.”

“Thank you for your quick thinking,” her father said. “I knew I should have doubled her guard, but I didn’t think they’d be so brazen as to try and kill her. Norbanus was a good man, but a minor senator. This takes things to a completely new level.”

“I’ll send some men to investigate the fallen attackers,” Ramirus said.

“You won’t find much. They were part of the Blues,” Lucilla said, naming the gang of toughs they had belonged to.

“That makes it easier. The city guard keeps track of the gangs and might know the names of the men. Once we have their names, we can track their movements and maybe find out who hired them.”

“We left men behind,” her guard commander said. “If you could retrieve their bodies for proper funeral rights, I would be grateful.”

Ramirus gave a nod of acceptance and said, “By your leave, Emperor.”

Her father dismissed him to begin his investigation before turning his attention back to his daughter.

“I want to double the size of your guard force. Maybe even triple it. I know you hate having a small army follow you around, but until these people are found, I am not willing to risk putting you in any more danger.”

“They won’t be able to hire toughs for that again. Ramirus’s investigation will bring too much light on them, and the gangs know their existence is only made possible if they don’t step too far out of line.”

“It doesn’t mean these men won’t find another way to go after you. I will not be talked out of this.”

“I have a request,” Llassar said.

“One I can probably not deny,” her father said in Pictish, turning his attention to Llassar. “Since, without your quick thinking, my daughter would almost certainly be dead.”

Normally, Llassar and the rest of his people, at least those who spoke directly with Romans, used Latin. Those that couldn’t speak it usually traveled with at least one of their countrymen who did, since it was unusual to find a Roman who spoke the mishmash of languages from across the northern parts of Britannia that had become known as Pictish by the Romans.

The Caledonian looked surprised, which was unusual for the normally unflappable man. Lucilla noted that he replied in Latin still, for the benefit of the other gathered Romans.

“My people have requested that they be allowed to assist in her protection. You Romans are brave fighters and formable in the field, but you all train to fight as a unit, behind your shields. You’ve shown how powerful that is when used by your legions, but in man-to-man situations, like those encountered by guards, the fighting is completely different. My people constantly test our abilities to prove they are the strongest fighters and are used to a less … organized style of fighting.”

“How would you feel about this?” the Emperor asked his daughter.

Lucilla swallowed as all of the eyes in the room rotated to her. She’d spent her life having at least some guards with her at all times, since she was a valuable hostage even when there weren’t insurrectionists actively trying to get her. Beyond their constant presence and their helping train her to fight, she hadn’t really given much thought to what made a good protector, beyond their willingness to stand between her and danger.

She knew there was more to the question than that, however. On the face of it, the question was just if she’d accept Caledonii warriors as part of her guard force, but there was an undercurrent of politics there that even she couldn’t miss. They’d told the Caledonii that they were equals of Romans in every way and, now that Talogren had signed the agreement joining the two people together, her father was the Emperor of both. That meant she had a responsibility as her daughter and the voice of Rome’s Consul to put the words into action.

“I’d be happy to have them, given the understanding that Modius is still the commander of my guard force and they will have to answer to him. If they can abide by that one request, then I’d be a fool to not want such fine warriors watching my back. As long as they are volunteers, mind you. I would not want anyone forced into my service.”

“I don’t think that will be much of a problem,” Llassar said, giving one of his rare smiles. “I’m not sure you realize how popular you’ve made yourself among my people.”

“I’ll do it,” Cynwrig said, giving proof to his words.

Every man who’d come to her rescue in the street added their voices to his.

“Well, as long as Llassar approves it, I’d be happy to have any of you,” she said, genuinely surprised by the outpouring of support.