The Fires of Vulcan - Chapter 20

Devnum

Lucilla sat on her father’s throne, her throne now, and tried to radiate calm despite the rage churning inside of her. Everything she’d feared when they’d decided to start the new prisoner work gangs had come to pass, and she needed answers. However, she recalled her father’s words that a monarch must be calm and balanced at all times. Revealing her hand too readily, even to allies, only weakened her position.

It had been a hard-learned lesson, controlling her emotions, especially on days like this when she longed to scream. But she understood that emotional outbursts would not garner the results she required.

Faenius marched in first, stern-faced as ever, with his characteristic stiff-backed walk. Beside him was the other man she’d summoned. Ramirus was in every way a contrast to Faenius’s military bearing – unassuming, almost looking like someone’s grandfather, unless you looked into the man’s eyes.

Both men stopped before the throne and bowed with their equally charismatic manners.

“You sent for us, Your Majesty,” Faenius said.

“I did. I want you both to explain this failure,” Lucilla demanded.

“Your Majesty, this was not a fault of the design of the camp or prison factory, both of which have worked well,” Faenius said. “The men escaped from the crew working on the new facilities in Factorium. I said we didn’t have enough men to properly vet …”

She cut him off curtly, “I don’t want excuses. I want to know how this happened and how you will rectify it. When we first discussed using prisoners as laborers, you both claimed the camp was as secure as it could be. Now a dozen praetorians lie dead and fifty prisoners roam free.”

“Your Majesty,” Ramirus began evenly, “I accept full responsibility for the escape. Faenius is right that we didn’t have enough resources to check each of the prisoners who volunteered for the detail. We were still checking them, although we also knew these men were all soldiers and this was always a danger. It was a risk, but one I was willing to take. Even with the losses we suffered and the manpower it will take to find these men, I still think it was the only option we had. Several of the factories Hortensius requested are finished and are starting to produce, which wouldn’t have been possible without using the prisoners to do the work. Their labor in the prison camp has already started to produce goods, helping relieve some of the strain we’ve been experiencing.”

“What Ramirus says is true. Even with us interviewing everyone, all of these men are prisoners and all are trained soldiers who came here to kill as many of our people as possible. It’s always been a danger. That being said, we’ve made some adjustments to our security procedures to prevent this type of thing from happening again.”

“Your assurances of the effectiveness of any security procedures would mean more if you hadn’t said the same thing last time,” Lucilla said, her wrath on full display.

Faenius looked down, worry creasing his face, but Ramirus seemed unfazed. Lucilla hadn’t doubted she wouldn’t be able to cow him. He’d known her for her entire life, literally, and he still looked on her as the little girl who rolled her eyes at her brother and learned at her father’s knee. At times she found it comfortable, a connection to her father, but other times, such as now, she was annoyed her ire bounced off of him.

“Your Majesty,” he said, still calm. “Our assurances were only that we were making the best choices that we could, balancing resources and manpower with the protections we’d need. We fell short, but that was the risk we took. We are readjusting our security procedures, which will cost us more in other places, but it needs to be done. Is it going to be enough? Who knows? I think so, but it could fall short again, and we’ll have to pull yet more resources from other critical areas. We’re in a war for survival, and this is just the nature of it. Too many critical things that cannot be compromised and not enough resources to keep from compromising them. If you’re concerned that we aren’t doing enough, we can do more than we have planned, but there will be a cost involved. You could decide to end the entire project, but that too has a cost. It’s your decision which we pay for.”

Lucilla frowned at him, furious the old man made so much sense. Every time she doubted they were doing enough, that was his argument. There were too many people who needed Praetorians, wire, and all the other security apparatus, not to mention the factories and legions. She wanted to be furious, to blame the escape and deaths on someone, but she knew the dangers and the needs, and made the decision. She was mad at herself, as much as either of them.

“What are these new procedures?”

Faenius gave a side-eye glance at Ramirus and said, “Our biggest vulnerability, as we saw, is when prisoners have to go outside the wire, where we lose the ability to control them as easily. We discussed no longer using the prisoners for outside projects at all, but Ramirus believes this is impractical. We’ve already received two requests for work on additional projects today, and it is likely that will continue on most days. I am …”

“The main reason we started using prison labor force was for these outside projects,” Ramirus said, clearly seeing Faenius hedge. “The work factory inside the wire was a later add-on and not the primary need for them. So yes, unless ordered otherwise, we have little choice but to continue these work details.”

“I assume you were going to talk about the new procedures for these work details?” Lucilla asked Faenius, ignoring Ramirus.

“Yes, Your Majesty. Going forward, we will rotate prisoners in smaller groups for any outside labor to prevent mass escapes. We will also be increasing the Praetorians guarding them, with more mounted men. That is going to primarily come out of the units assigned to the city guard, at least until we can recruit more guards. We will also conduct more thorough searches for weapons before we take the men out of the work camp. It will slow down the process of getting them in and out each day, but we found several work tools at the site of the attack, which they must have used to initiate it.”

“And what about the men that escaped?”

“Patrols are searching the hills to the southeast, where our trackers have indicated they ran, but the terrain makes them difficult to locate. We suspect they are trying to flee deeper into the wilderness.”

“I want every last escaped prisoner recaptured. We cannot allow these men to start causing unrest. Not after we finally quelled the insurgents. Nothing takes precedence over capturing them. Am I clear?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Faenius said.

“Good, now …”

Her next words faded as her attention was drawn to a commotion near the entrance to the audience chamber, where one of her guards was speaking in hushed tones to a frantic-looking man she recognized from his many stops at the palace. She’d never spoken to him, but he was a runner and messenger from Devnum’s semaphore station and often delivered messages.

“What’s that about?” she said loudly, causing her guard to turn.

With a gesture, the guard released the man, who sprinted into the room, skidding to a stop next to Faenius and Ramirus, both of whom were watching him intently.

“Your Majesty!” he said, his voice trembling. “Terrible news from Hispania. Port Invictus has fallen to the Carthaginians and Legate Velius is dead.”

He held up a note, showing the scrawled message from the semaphore, which Ramirus took from him and read, his face going pale as he did.

“The message is from Aelius, which he sent with one of the supply ships that had been at the port. Velius arrived to help lead the defense of the port, as he indicated he would in his last message, and Gordianus brought his legion up through the mountains to attack the Carthaginians from the other side. The Carthaginians dug deep trenches in the ground and used lightweight barriers to absorb and deflect cannon fire, to allow their men to get into range. Once they got close enough, they brought up catapults, and began hurling what Aelius believes were pots filled with gunpowder, which exploded, setting off our own gunpowder. The explosion created a breach in the walls around Port Invictus, at which point Velius ordered Aelius to take all but two hundred men and escape to the ships in the harbor. Shortly after, there was a gigantic explosion from the fort, although it’s unclear what caused the explosion.”

Lucilla felt as if a blow had struck her. She stared blankly at Ramirus, struggling to fully comprehend his words. The loss of Port Invictus and Velius, along with so many of their soldiers, was a devastating blow to their war effort. She also considered Velius a friend, not to the level of Hortensius or Ramirus, but a friend nonetheless, and one whose loss she felt deeply.

“So we don’t know if Velius is dead for sure?” Lucilla said, clinging to a small amount of hope.

“If the explosion was as massive as the legate describes, it’s unlikely he survived.”

“Does he give any indication of what he’s doing now? Returning here? Heading north to join the forces there?”

“They intercepted a message from the fort to Gordianus shortly before the explosion, ordering the legion to be pulled back to the line of forts, from which they were to request further instructions from the Consul. The orders reiterated that he is to continue falling back, all the way to the northern army, if need be, to protect the legion until he receives new orders. Aelius indicates his intentions are to sail north with the men rescued from the port and drop them further north in Gaul, where they will march and link up with Gordianus. That is all the message indicates.”

“I see,” she said quietly, before turning her attention to the messenger. “Thank you for your service.”

Seeing he was excused, the man practically ran from the audience chamber, probably thankful he didn’t have to get caught up in the aftermath of such bad news. Lucilla hoped that was not what he was thinking. She’d strived to not be one of those leaders who blamed the messenger for the words they carried.

“You can also go. I need some time,” she said to her two advisers. “You have your orders. Fix our security issues and find those missing prisoners.”

Faenius bowed and departed, but she could see Ramirus wanted to stay. She knew he’d worked out she could communicate with Ky and he was smart enough to know that was exactly what she was intending to do now. This kind of news couldn’t wait for a messenger, since it was going to completely upend their entire strategy on the continent. She could appreciate her advisor’s desire to be present, but she wanted this moment with Ky, just the two of them. Ky had been friends with Velius as well and would take the news just as hard as she did.

Besides, it wasn’t like he could hear what Ky was saying, and even if he suspected she could communicate directly with Ky, she preferred not to confirm it.

“Not now. I will send for you,” she said.

He gave a nod and departed. Now all she had to do was tell Ky his friend was dead.

***

Northern Germany

Ky walked out of his tent, numb. The news Lucilla had given him, of the loss of Port Invictus and the death of Velius, had shaken him to the core. While it was a devastating loss to the legions and a military setback, he also mourned the loss of his friend. Velius had been a stalwart companion ever since Ky arrived in Devnum and joined the Roman cause, and he’d shown his immense capacity at every turn. His death was a great loss to the entire empire.

Pausing for a moment outside the tent flaps, Ky closed his eyes and steadied himself with a deep breath. Waving an aide over, he sent for the command staff. There would be time to properly mourn later; for now, action was required.

Within minutes, the legates and their staffs were assembled. All were still in good spirits from their victory over the Carthaginians, crushing the bulk of the forces sent to push them out of Germania. Only Bomilcar seemed to pick up on Ky’s mood, sensing something was wrong.

“I have grave news. Port Invictus has fallen. Velius is dead,” Ky said.

The words smashed into the men like a wave, their good mood instantly vanishing. Shocked murmurs rippled through the tent.

Ky raised a hand for silence before continuing, “I know this is a shock. Unfortunately, we still have a war to fight and don’t have time to mourn the loss of Velius and the men with him. Thankfully, Velius’s last act was to ensure our losses weren’t crippling. He managed to get the bulk of his forces out, only losing two hundred legionaries while, from the reports, taking a large number of Carthaginians with him. Aelius and the cohorts he had at Port Invictus when it was first put under siege along with the bulk of the Seventh Legion have all fled north to the line of fortifications they’ve built. The men are going to be demoralized, but they’re still in this fight. That’s not all. The Carthaginians have also managed to acquire gunpowder. It’s not clear if it’s the same as the gunpowder that we use, and they aren’t using cannons or muskets.”

More murmurs spread across the room.

Pointing at the map table showing an overview of Europe, Ky said, “Bomilcar, I want you to head south with Auspex’s legion, where you’ll meet up with Gordianus and the remnants of the Seventh Legion, and you’ll take command. I’m naming you as the legate of the Seventh Legion. Auspex, your legion is to back him up, along with Aelius’s legion, or what’s not assigned to one of the forts. Protect the forces we have left and counter the Carthaginians in Hispania. With the trenching they did around Port Invictus, they were able to get their catapults into range, even with the cannons, and throw their explosives over the wall. Speed and mobility will be key. Do not allow yourself to be bottled up. Stay out of fortifications and static defenses as much as possible. You have the range on them, which will negate their new tricks. For now, all of your supplies will have to come from here.”

“Understood,” Bomilcar said.

The aged general didn’t need more than that. He understood what needed to be done, and Ky trusted him to take care of it.

“Good. Don’t wait for us. Gordianus should be at the first fortification already, and the losses Velius caused will slow the Carthaginians down, but not for long. I want you both in play when they move. Good luck and may the gods watch over you.”

Ky turned back to the remaining commanders once Bomilcar and Auspex had departed to carry out their orders.

“The fall of Port Invictus means we cannot afford to remain here any longer. Ursinus, I’m leaving you and your legion here, to coordinate with the local tribes to suppress any remnants of the Carthaginian army. Now that the bulk of their army is shattered, they should not pose a major threat. Your priority is to keep the tribes armed and have them scout the territory, searching for any new Carthaginian incursions, and protect the region from brigands and the like. If the Carthaginians do return, you’re to concentrate your forces and deal with them. Make good use of your tools and our allies, and stay mobile.If the enemy in Hispania has gunpowder, assume they all do.”

Ursinus cleared his throat and asked, “What are your plans, Consul? If I’m staying here with my legions, where are the remaining legions going to be?”

“I’ll be taking the two legions south, towards the Carthaginian port on the Mediterranean. It’s their main source of supplies and reinforcements at the moment. If we put pressure on it, the Carthaginians will have to respond, which will pull their army between us and Bomilcar.”

“I see,” Ursinus said.

“Speaking of supplies, you’re going to be responsible for maintaining the supply lines to both Bomilcar and my forces. Work with the local tribes, set up supply convoys, and use whatever tools you need to ensure the provisions keep flowing. Can you handle that?”

Ursinus nodded, “Yes, sir, you can count on me.”

“Good,” Ky said, glancing around at the other officers. “Any other questions?”

The men looked at each other, but no one had anything to add. Their orders were clear and they all knew what was expected of them.

“Very well. Let’s get moving then. We’ve got a lot of work ahead of us, and time is of the essence.”

The men began to disperse to carry out their orders, the tent emptying swiftly. He’d hoped to be more methodical about his assault on their port, but they’d forced his hand, and he was going to make sure they paid the price for the death of his friend.

***

Port Invictus, Hispania

General Tabnit walked carefully through the ruined streets that once made up Port Invictus, his leather boots crunching on broken shards of cement and stone. All around him, teams of laborers and engineers worked to clear debris and salvage what they could from the devastation. The Romans had picked a good location, and this could be a kickoff point when they were ready to re-invade the Roman islands. Although, for the most part, their labor was to keep the men busy while they sat here, day after day, waiting.

It had been nearly three weeks since Tabnit’s army had besieged and conquered the fortified port city. Though they had ultimately succeeded in capturing it, the victory had come at a brutal cost. The Romans had fought ferociously to defend Port Invictus, manning the walls with rows of their deadly thunder weapons. He’d countered those with the trenches and barriers described by the Far Eastern engineers, allowing him to get catapults into range and finally pay the bastards back for all the deaths they’d wrought.

What he hadn’t expected was the massive eruption, apparently caused when they set off their fire powder, which the Easterners called how yow or something. It was hard to tell with their thick accents and harsh language. The interpreter had translated it as fire medicine and had confirmed that the weapon they gave his people was similar to the material being used by the Romans. Tabnit was fairly certain they recognized the thunder weapons and knew more about them, but they pretended ignorance and misunderstanding every time he asked.

Either way, they must have had either a lot more of the fire powder, or theirs was just significantly more powerful, because while his had torn chunks off their wall, theirs shattered as though Hexitas herself had reached up and smote them. Sections of the wall, that weighed as much as a dozen oxen, flew high into the air before crashing down, as did the body parts and remains of thousands and thousands of his men, who’d poured into the breach his weapons had created. Every man within a hundred paces of the wall had been obliterated. More were killed further out by flying shards of stone and cement or ripped apart by the very air. It had been brutal.

Two of Tabnit’s senior commanders, Nabalsa and Hasdrubal, trailed several paces behind him, more focused on him than the devastated port. They exchanged worried glances every time Tabnit stopped, surveyed the scene, and frowned.

“This is taking too long,” Tabnit said when he stopped again at the body of a man under a giant piece of stone. “We’ve been here for weeks while the Romans continue to escape and rally. We have them on the run, but that won’t last forever, and we won’t get a chance to bottle them up like this again, pushed against the sea and vulnerable. The emperor sent us here to free Hispania and the rest of the continent from the Roman incursion, which we’re not doing while sitting in these ruins.”

“We lost over ten thousand men, with thousands more injured in the explosion and assault,” Nabalsa said, a weary expression on his face. “We’re recovering as quickly as we can.”

“That’s unacceptable,” Tabnit said. “Our scouts report that the remnants of the escaped Romans have already landed, north of us near one of the cursed forts. It’s likely that the legion that attacked us from the mountains, and then ran when the port erupted, headed in the same direction, to combine their forces. While we’ve sat here, doing nothing, they’ve united and reinforced. Who knows if they’ve gotten more men from the north or from their island? If we’re lucky, they’ll try to hide in their forts and we’ll be able to seal them up again. But not if we stay here, never moving.”

“Our men are weary and many are still injured,” Hasdrubal said. “We lost most of our supplies when the flaming debris fell across our camp. Perhaps we also need to pull back, regroup, and resupply before …”

Tabnit turned, his fingers tightening on his sword, “No! I’m not going to let these Romans grow stronger while we hide and lick our wounds. I will finish the job I started, the one the emperor commanded me to do. I want you to prepare to mobilize the army at once. Leave a small detachment to defend the port, should the Romans attempt to double back behind us. Everyone else should be ready to march at dawn.”

Nabalsa shifted uncertainly, “But commander, what of our many wounded? We cannot simply abandon them …”

“You have your orders,” Tabnit cut him off sharply. “The port detachment can tend to the injured, but their commander must understand, his priority is to secure this area, not play nursemaid. The wounded are a secondary concern.”

Seeing Nabalsa about to protest further, Tabnit slashed a hand through the air, saying, “Enough! You have your orders. Any man too injured to fight will be left behind. We’ll be covering harsh terrain, and I’ve no intention of slowing our pace for stragglers and invalids. If they cannot keep up, they will be abandoned.”

When the two men didn’t move immediately, Tabnit added, “Go!”

Both men bowed hesitantly before hurrying off. Once they were gone, Tabnit made his way through the rubble toward the field outside the ruined port where the command tents were set up. He had his own preparations to make before they marched.