The Plains of Pluto - Chapter 18

Devnum

For the third time in a short few months, Lucilla made her way into the Imperial Forum in hopes of finally getting the conscription laws through and the men in training. She couldn’t help but still be angry at most of these men, who’d cost valuable time they did not have.

As it was, with training, it would be winter before most of these men made it onto the battlefield. Until then, the stakes on the front would get even worse, and goals like retaking the islands invaded by the Egyptians would have to remain only a plan, the people living there forced to endure living under the yoke again.

At least her work to counter the Senators’ plan to stop conscription altogether had been successful. The changes of the men inside were immediately obvious and striking.

Senator Alypius, who had led the opposition against her conscription law, sat isolated on the far edge of the Roman section. His former allies, Kaeso, Bredei, and others who had stormed out during her last address, now kept their distance from him and each other, scattered in ones and twos across the benches.

For now, the coalition they’d managed to assemble over this issue was broken. She wasn’t naive enough to think they would be permanently cowed, of course. But they wouldn’t be causing her problems today.

Lucilla took her position at the central lectern, setting a stack of papers on it while her gaze to sweep across the senators, her slow, deliberate start making it very clear to them who was in charge here.

“Honored Senators, we gather once again to address the defense of our empire. As before, the burden of conscription weighs heavily on my heart, weighed against the betrayal by Egypt and the dangers we face against our Eastern enemies. Heavier than that, however, is the knowledge of how certain members of this body chose to manipulate our citizens rather than lead them. How they valued their personal interests above the security of our nation.”

Lucilla paused, turning specifically toward Alypius. “Senator, you claimed conscription would destroy our economy. You said it would tear families apart. But when you secretly funded pamphlets spreading lies about the scope of service requirements, did you consider how your deception might tear our society apart? And you, Senator Kaeso. Your dramatic exit from our last session was well-choreographed. As was your subsequent meeting with merchant guilds, where you suggested I planned to seize their assets to fund the war effort. A creative fiction, but one that served only to incite panic. Many of you tried to work behind the scenes, spreading lies and fear among the people, all in defense of your own purses. I don’t know if you hoped these would go unnoticed, that your self-serving moves would stay hidden in the background, but they did not. We have spoken to many of the people you hoped to influence, and the evidence of your machinations has come to light. And they have failed. Your efforts to turn the mob against me revealed your true nature to our citizens. They saw not defenders of their interests, but manipulators serving their own ambitions. While you hid in your villas, I stood before them. While you spread whispers, I spoke truth.”

She paused again, staring hard at the offending senators, many of whom looked worried about what would happen now that their treachery was exposed.

“And yet, I will not put on you the same consequences some of you wanted for me. I will not call for your ouster, for your public pillorying, for your head on the block. I am happy to accept the public shame as consequence enough. Before you think I am spearing you out of some feminine weakness, which more than one of you accused me of, I want to make something very clear. My focus has always been on protecting the empire, and I will never let personal vindication outweigh the duty placed before me. For what is coming, I require a unified Senate, not one fractured by internal dissension and I know many would use my taking rightful payment for your betrayals as another sign of tyranny. So, in the name of the unity I need to ensure the empire fights on and remains free, I absolve you of your ill deeds.”

She stopped again, placed both hands on the lectern’s edge to ensure she had their full attention.

“But understand this, your previous influence is spent. There will not be a second instance of my magnanimity. If you turn on your duty again, you will find yourself a shorter man than you are today. And before you think you can succeed next time where you failed this time, and that the profit is worth putting your neck to the block, let me highlight something for you. Your trust is squandered and cannot be easily regained. Those who opposed conscription to protect their wealth have been exposed and the people have seen you for what you were. Allies you once counted on will now look at you with concern and doubt.”

Stabbing a finger out at the men, she added, “And you will have your own legacy on the line. While the conscription will be fair and equitably applied, there will be one exception. At least one eligible member of every family of someone in the imperial government will be required to serve. Your sons will serve alongside common citizens, and any injustice you have planned will affect not those who you see as beneath you, but your own blood. I have my family on the front lines. Senator Taenaris’s son was wounded several months ago along the Wistla. Senator Brandubh and Senator Rotri have family members currently in the trenches. And Senator Domhnall lost his brother in one of the early skirmishes against the eastern invaders. Each of these men has supported their kin, who stepped up and heeded the call to service to the empire. It is now time for you to do the same.”

Lucilla placed her hand on the stack of papers she’d sat on the lectern.

“Before we proceed to the vote, I have something to share. This declaration arrived this morning, signed by over three thousand citizens of Devnum organized by Master Ercán, who many of you know from his large glass works on the north end of town. What you may not know is that he lost two of his sons over the last year, one in a fight near the Wisla at the beginning of the war and another in Greece just a few months ago. Let me read you their words.”

Lifting the paper up, she began, “‘We, the citizens of the Britannic Empire, recognizing the dire threat we face, stand united in the defense of our homes, our families, and our future. We did not surrender to the Carthaginians and we will not surrender now, and urge our leaders to take the actions necessary to ensure our survival and way of life continues. We acknowledge that all who live under the banner of the Empire share in its fortunes, and thus, all must bear their share of its burdens. Because of this, we declare our full support for the Conscription Act as proposed by Her Imperial Majesty, Empress Lucilla and repudiate any attempts to stop these efforts in the name of profit or position. Furthermore, we affirm that no single class, nor any privileged few, should be exempt from the duty of defending Britannia. We accept that our sons, our brothers, and our fathers must take up arms to protect our homelands, and wish for a shared burden by all. We ask that the son of a senator and merchants should stand with the son of factory workers and stable hands. We sign this declaration not as separate peoples of Rome, Caledonia, and Uliad, but as one empire, united in its purpose. Let all who oppose this measure be remembered as those who would have let Britannia fall.”

She set the declaration down and added, “The signatures include Master Naso, who lost his eldest in the defense of port Vikhavn, the widow of Tribune Gartnait, who fell in the trenches facing the Eastern hordes, and Shipwright Lucan, whose son was on Maleth when it fell.”

Senator Kaeso raised his hand. “Your Majesty, if I might…”

“You may not,” she said, pulling the bulk of the pages from her stack. “This is a list of every Britannian family that has lost someone in the current war. This only includes Britannians, and not those of our allies. This also isn’t every person lost, just the families that have lost someone. Would you care to guess how many names appear on these pages?”

She looked from man to man, waiting for an answer. Not one said a word.

“Over twenty-one thousand. And do you know how many of those names belong to senatorial families?” She let the question hang. “Two. Only two of your number have known this sacrifice, and they are among the bill’s supporters. Those who yelled loudest about tyranny and the suffering caused by conscriptions are all among families who have given nothing.”

“Your Majesty,” Senator Alypius stood. “I’ve always supported the principle of conscription. My concerns were merely about implementation…”

“Really? I have here a pamphlet that I know you paid to have produced. It seems pretty clear that ‘Conscription represents nothing less than imperial slavery, a violation of citizens and the beginning of tyranny.’ Are you suggesting this means something other than the words say? Do you have some clever spin to put on it that changes its very clear and plain meaning?”

Alypius sank back into his seat, his face reddening as other senators edged further away.

“I thought not. Now, to the bill. You have all read it several times, and clearly know what is in it, so I see no point in going over its provisions again. I will say that of all the members of the Western Alliance, we will be the last to enact this provision. All of our allies have already put nearly identical measures in place. Maybe it is because they are closer to the danger, and therefore unable to stick their heads in the sand like you have, or maybe it’s simply because they are more well reasoned than our venerable leadership. Either way, I will not have Britannia lead from behind. If we want to continue being primate of the west, then we will earn that right. So does anyone object to skipping the reading of the bill and moving directly to a vote?”

None of the men had a counter to that.

“I hoped not. Those in favor of the Conscription Act, raise your hands.”

Hands rose across the chamber, first from her supporters, then from the uncertain middle, and finally, with obvious reluctance, from those who had opposed her most strongly. Even Alypius, after a moment’s hesitation, raised his hand.

“The vote is recorded as unanimous. My office will provide detailed implementation guidelines by day’s end.” She said, gathering her papers before pausing as she turned to leave the chambers. “And senators? Remember this moment. Remember how close you came to choosing personal interest over empire. I certainly will.”

***

Factorium

He had not worked this hard in a long time, not since he was marching with the legions, before he became a Praetorian. He had probably lost a good one and a half libra, and put on twice as much of that in muscle. Claudius shook his head after pushing the crate into place, wiping the sweat from his brow, his calloused hands rough against his skin. Claudius gave a small smirk.

Even his hands had changed.

The summer heat bore down on the train yard outside of the factory warehouse, making the air inside thick and stifling. The large fans run off of the steam engines helped, but it was still stifling.

He adjusted his ill-fitting worker’s uniform, missing his much Praetorian uniform.

He had been here for over a week, watching the railyard and warehouses that all of the smuggled goods he had been able to trace had come through. He had tried the docks first, but they had been widely scattered, with each shipment seeming to come from a different berth in Devnuma with no pattern among the teams who loaded it.

Which led him to go one step back, following the path of goods from the factory to their holding warehouse, where they were shipped out to.

It had not taken long to start noticing some suspicious activity. Every day a dozen trains war and shipped to Devnum, and aboard half of them were crates added that had not been on the manifests his team had been given. And he had to assume the other half had the same, and he just had not been around when the unaccounted crates were added.

Worse, he had seen enough of these put into train cars at the last moment to recognize they each had the same ‘slight damage’ to the outside of the crate in the same spot. The kind of thing most workers would just accept and move on from, since it seemed every crate got dinged up in some way. But once you saw the pattern of how identical the ‘damage’ was, you could not unsee it.

Today was no different. They had just put on the last crates and were about to close the door to this train car when several workers showed up with three crates to be added at the last moment. Crates not on the list he had seen and all with the same damaged spots.

As one of the workers dropped off a crate and went to head back to the warehouse, Claudius asked, “Sorry, I was just checking the manifest to make sure we had everything, and I can’t find these crates listed. I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t screwing anything up and didn’t have an old manifest or anything.”

“No, what you’ve got is probably right. They’re always screwing this stuff up and the manager’s having to send down stuff the plant foreman missed. You know how it is.”

“Yeah. I guess it’s like that everywhere. Thanks.”

The man nodded friendly enough and headed back into the factory. Claudius doubted he personally was up to anything. He had been keeping an eye on who was bringing these crates, and it was different every time.

Which left him going a step up.

“Excuse me, sir,” Claudius said, bowing his head slightly to the foreman. “I’m having trouble with the manifests. Those unmarked crates, they’re not on my list.”

“They wouldn’t be. Those are the manager’s business, and he makes up the manifests, so it’s the same either way. Just do what you’re told and load them up.”

“But I don’t want to ..”

“Look, I get it, and I appreciate you’re being thorough. Things just move fast around here and sometimes the manager calls down last-minute additions. They don’t always make it to the paperwork.”

“Is that... common? I mean, I don’t want to cause any trouble, but it seems like there have been a few of these unmarked crates on every train.”

“It’s fine,” he said, starting to get exasperated. “The boss knows what he’s doing. Just focus on your assigned tasks, alright?”

Nodding, Claudius thanked the foreman and walked away. His instincts told him the foreman wasn’t actually behind it either. If he was, he wouldn’t name someone Claudius could go check with and if the manager was behind it and the foreman was in the know, he wouldn’t have thrown his boss under the train carriage so quickly.

He seemed like a guy just trying to get his job done without anyone bothering him. Which was the grease that made all empires go.

Walking past his work area where his coworkers were starting to load the next train car, Claudius continued on to the edge of the train yard, where a trio of Praetorians stood guard, since this was a controlled facility.

He could see the men loading looking at him strangely out of his peripheral vision, probably wondering what trouble he was about to get himself into. Not that it mattered. He had seen what he needed to see, so the masquerade was no longer needed.

“You,” he said to the Optio who commanded this shift’s detachment, one of the men who was in the know that he was here doing an investigation. “Gather more men and secure the exits. No workers leave until I give the word. You two, come with me.”

If his coworkers had been confused by why he had walked off the job, they must have been very puzzled at why two Praetorians were now following behind him at a respectful distance. Claudius had let his helpful worker guise slip and was now walking how he normally did, back straight, head held high.

Like someone in charge.

He looked over and saw the men he had worked with all week staring at him. Both looked away, making themselves very focused on the task at hand as soon as he did.

They knew authority when they saw it.

The manager, a portly man with thinning hair, looked up as they entered his office.

“What’s the meaning of this?” he demanded, rising from his chair as they let themselves in without knocking or notice and then catching that they had a man between them, dressed like a common worker. “What has this man done?”

Obviously, he didn’t know that Claudius had been working on the rail yard. This was not the kind of man who got to know his people. He sat in his office, lording over them, the ruler of his very small kingdom.

“This is Tribune Claudius Marcellus Paulus. He has questions for you,” one of the guards said.

He may be a terrible manager and a small despot, but he was clearly not a fool. The color drained from his face as realization dawned. His mouth opened and closed several times before he managed to speak.

“Tribune? I... I don’t understand. What’s going on?”

Feigning confusion. They always went with that first.

“I think you know exactly what’s going on. Extra crates are being shipped out of your rail yard on that appear on no official manifest, and it all appears to be on your order,” Claudius said.

A statement, not a question.

“Extra crates? I’m not sure what you mean. We’re moving so much material these days, supporting the war effort. It’s impossible to keep track of every…”

“Don’t insult my intelligence,” Claudius interrupted. “These crates have been added to shipments for days, always at the last minute, always marked in the same way. Probably to make it easier to identify on the other end.”

Sweat beaded on the manager’s brow. “There must be some misunderstanding. Perhaps the foreman…”

“Has made it very clear this is common at this rail yard and that he was instructed that these were being added directly on your order.”

“Now see here, I don’t know what you’re implying, but we’re doing our part for the empire, working around the clock to meet demands. If there have been some ... administrative oversights, I assure you it’s nothing more than that.”

Claudius didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he turned to one of the Praetorian guards.

“Go fetch Master Hortensius. Tell him it’s urgent.”

“Be reasonable,” he said, sitting back in his chair nervously. “He’s a busy man. Surely that’s not necessary. I’m more than capable of sorting out any discrepancies in our records.”

“This goes beyond paperwork,” Claudius replied coldly. “We’ll wait for Hortensius to arrive before discussing this further.”

The minutes ticked by in tense silence. The manager fidgeted, occasionally opening his mouth as if to speak, then thinking better of it. Claudius didn’t say a word. Just stared at the man and waited, causing him to squirm even more.

Finally, the door burst open, causing the nervous manager to jump in his seat, making a small squeaking sound.

Claudius ignored him and turned to Hortensius. He hadn’t only met the manufacturer a handful of times, but he’d always found him to be genial and reasonable.

Which is why Claudius found himself a little surprised by a much more irritated version of himself.

“This had better be important, Tribune. I was in the middle of…” he said, and then stopped short, taking in the scene before him. “What’s going on here?”

“Master Hortensius, thank you for coming so quickly. We have a situation that requires your immediate attention. You’re aware, I assume, of the investigation into diverted munitions that were smuggled out of Britannia and ended up in the hands of the Egyptians and the Easterners.”

“Wait, I never …” The manager stammered.

“Quiet,” Claudius said, his voice making it clear the man would regret ignoring him.

“Yes,” Hortensius said, looking to the manager and back to Claudius. “I told the Empress that we would look into it, but that I found it hard to believe any of my people would betray the empire.”

“Well, as part of my investigation, I have been working in this warehouse for the past week, since the munitions we recovered seemed could only have come from one of three warehouses in Factorium. Over this week, I’ve observed a pattern of extra crates being added to shipments at the last minute. These crates do not appear on any official manifest. When I questioned the workers and foreman about this, they all indicated that these additions were made on direct orders from the manager here.”

The manager’s face paled further, but he remained silent.

“What’s more concerning is that these crates are consistently marked with damage in the same spot and exactly the same way, which I believe is meant to make them identifiable to agents in Devnum. When confronted about it, I was told they were last-minute orders accidentally left off the manifests, and that it was a common occurrence in your operation.”

“That isn’t true,” Hortensius said. “The manifests are set by the factory production office. We keep meticulous records of everything that leaves these facilities.”

“Which is why I found the statements both troubling and telling.”

The manager finally found his voice. “Master Hortensius, surely you can see this is all a misunderstanding. We’re working around the clock to meet the empire’s needs. If there have been some ... oversights in our paperwork, it’s nothing more than…”

“Silence,” Hortensius snapped, as angry as Claudius had ever seen him. “You said you have evidence of this?”

“I have copies of the official manifests for the past week, along with my own observations of what was actually loaded onto the trains. I also have the trains currently held outside with extra crates sitting on its train carriages at this very moment.”

“Then I apologize for my tone. I will admit, I am … shocked this could happen here. How far do you think this goes?”

The manager opened his mouth to speak, but Claudius cut him off. “That’s what we intend to find out, sir. Given the gravity of the situation, I believe it would be prudent to take this man in for questioning.”

“Agreed. But we can’t shut down operations here. The war effort depends on our production.”

“Of course. Do you have someone you trust who could temporarily oversee operations? Not just someone you have no reason to question, but actually trust.”

Hortensius rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Yes, my deputy manager. He’s been with me for years, utterly reliable. I’ll have him brought up to speed immediately.”

The manager, who had been watching this exchange with growing horror, finally exploded. “This is outrageous! Master Hortensius, you can’t possibly believe these accusations. I haven’t done anything wrong.”

Hortensius turned to the man, both disappointed and angry. “If that’s true, then you have nothing to fear from answering a few questions. Tell them the truth, and if you’ve done nothing wrong, you’ll be fine.”

“But... but...” the manager sputtered, his eyes darting wildly around the room.

Claudius nodded to the Praetorian guards. “Take him.”

As the guards moved to apprehend him, the manager’s composure shattered completely. He leapt to his feet, knocking over his chair as he tried to run past them and out the door.

He did not make it.

“No! You can’t do this! Someone help me!” he yelled as the guards grabbed his arms and dragged him out of the room, his shouts fading down the corridor.

“I’ll also need to bring in anyone involved with loading these crates, as well as those who packed them. We need to determine if they were simply following orders or if they were knowingly complicit.”

Hortensius nodded, his face grim. “Of course. Whatever you need to get to the bottom of this.”

“I apologize for the disruption to your work, Master Hortensius. I assure you, we take no pleasure in this.”

Hortensius sighed heavily. “No, no, you’re right to investigate. It’s just ... I can’t believe one of my people would be involved in something like this.”

“I understand. We’ll keep you informed on the progress,” Claudius said.