The Sands of Saturn - Chapter 22

Devnum

After four days of sitting silently next to Lucilla, Ky took his first steps out of her room. His guards had arrived a few days before, and were standing watch alongside her guards outside of her room.

After the first day, which had been very tense as Sophus tried desperately to fix her most critical injuries before her body reached a point of no return, things had started to improve. That morning, the AI told him that it was certain now she would live. She’d have to remain comatose for a few more days to help the injuries heal faster, but most of the major damage was corrected, and what was left could be done by nanites controlled only by the comm unit again, which meant Ky wasn’t required to remain next to her so she could heal, any longer.

If it was up to Ky, he’d remain next to Lucilla until she awoke, but Sophus reminded him how short on time they were and that there was still much to do. She’d done an admirable job running everything while he completed the conquering of Londinium, and he’d received enough messages from Hortensius while he stood vigil over Lucilla to know the manufacturer was back at work again, but there were some things he’d be required to do if they were going to have everything prepared before the Carthaginians arrived.

So he’d allowed Sophus to cajole him out of the room, even if it was only going to be for a few hours. Ky still planned to spend his nights sitting next to her bed, allowing Sophus more direct access if he needed it. Also because he couldn’t bear the thought of being far from her while she was like this.

He felt bad about forcing the still-injured Hortensius to meet him at the foundry where the cannons were under production, since he was still in the wheelchair that Sophus had designed for him. As medical equipment went, it was a vast improvement over anything of its type, and there were apparently a couple more already being produced for injured soldiers who were unlikely to ever walk again. They were, however, not perfect and tended to still jostle the user around, which could be fairly unpleasant if they were recovering.

He had little choice, however. The cannon would be needed soon, and they’d need more than just one working test piece, which meant they needed to begin actual line production now.

Although he’d been following along Lucilla’s progress and Sophus had been able to use the drones' sensors to get a more detailed look at everything, it wasn’t the same as Ky seeing it for himself.

As soon as Ky entered the factory, Hortensius came trundling down one of the walkways, being pushed by one of the assistants. Ky had seen him with Hortensius, before.

“Consul, it’s good to see you. I’m so sorry about Lucilla’s injury and pray to the gods every morning for her swift recovery.”

“Thank you. Her recovery is looking good and she should be up and around soon. How are you feeling?”

“Then my prayers have been answered. I am doing better, although the healers tell me I will need to remain in this confounded thing for weeks more, and constantly chastise me for not getting enough bed rest.”

“They’re probably right,” Ky said.

Although they needed the manufacturer working, he liked Hortensius and did want to see the man recover. Without the nanites that he, and now Lucilla, had protecting them, he still had a long road to recovery. Knowing the man, however, Ky knew he wouldn’t have any better luck that the physicians in getting him to slow down.

“Bah,” Hortensius said, waving the through away. “Let me show you what we’ve got. We finished the molds and the latest test model of the cannon two days ago, following Lucilla’s instructions. We also made some adjustments to the measurement bases that she suggested, and some alterations to the drill, based on some of the things she said. It was almost as if we had to recreate the entire process from the beginning, so hopefully we are closer to the result you two are looking for. Although, I will say after all that work, we can’t tell any difference between this one and the previous version. I know you and Lucilla are judging on things we don’t really understand, but to me, they’re identical.”

“I know, and I appreciate you going through with all the changes even though it seems pointless. I promise there was a reason for it all. Now, let’s see this new cannon. Hopefully, this is the final test version and we can actually begin production on these soon.”

Hortensius led Ky down the far end of the factory, to where the mold and cannon had been set up for him to examine, much like they’d done for the last version for Lucilla. Ky made a slow sweep across both the cannon and the mold, slowly circling them as Sophus collated data on them. The drone had excellent sensors, but even without having to use the cobbled-together connection for Sophus to use it, they still weren’t up to the standard of Ky’s artificially augmented eyes which, as a combat pilot, were the most advanced in use in the Empire of his birth.

“The material is still not to the level of strength preferred, which will make it more difficult to switch to a steel cannon that can accept rifling, but for the technology we currently have available, this should be fine.”

“I’m not seeing the same imperfections in the pour that you reported observing with Lucilla the last time. Has that been corrected?” Ky subvocalized.

“I believe so. The new mold has been created much closer to the required tolerances, which has limited pooling during the casting stage, allowing a more even structural integrity as the alloy cooled and hardened.”

“Will it withstand the pressures of firing?”

“If we were using more modern forms of gunpowder, no, it would not. However, with the early-stage black powder currently being developed, yes. This should be sufficient. There will most likely be failures, since it is infeasible to check each cannon in the same fashion, but an advantage of using bronze is the failures will not be catastrophic. It is something that will have to be addressed in later models as we progress to rifled steel versions of cannon.”

“What about the barrel? Last time, you told Lucilla it had problems.”

“It is surprisingly good and much closer to the required tolerances than I believed we would be able to achieve with current technology. Even using bronze, which is much softer than steel, the horizontal borer does not have the necessary power using water-turned gears. Until we introduce steam-driven power, which is more consistent, reliable and can generate a higher cutting speed, these will be limited to final shaping and polishing rather than cutting, which will limit the scale of ammunition and charge packs available to us.”

“If it’s that ineffective, how is this ‘surprisingly good’ in comparison to what you saw before?”

“One of the flaws in the last test platform I observed was sagging in the borer as it worked further into the barrel, causing a slight variance from the base of the barrel to the end, which will cause a loss of pressure on one side of the projectile as it is fired, causing a shallow arc to be added into its flight trajectory, which would greatly limit the range. This variance was slight enough that it is unlikely to have been visible to the standard human eye and was included in the notes that Lucilla handed Hortensius’s foreman on the last inspection.”

Ky found himself nodding along as he looked down the barrel of the cannon. He was using the same sensors as Sophus, but he didn’t know what the AI had been looking at specifically to see the change. To him, it read as being surprisingly straight and smooth, considering the technology they were using.

“These look good,” Ky said after one last circuit of the mold and cannon. “We need to set up a test firing of it, just to be sure, but if successful, we should be able to put these in production.”

“Excellent. We are still having some trouble with the extra bracing Lucilla asked us to add on the horizontal borer, but I think we should have that figured out soon.”

“From what I can see, what you’ve done already has gone a long way to fixing the problems she saw on her last visit. I’ll have some additional notes for you tonight about what we need to do for the test, specifically the fuses and the sewn canvas sacks that we will put measured amounts of gunpowder in. These charges will both allow the cannons to fire more rapidly and ensure we don’t load too much propellant into the tubes, which could cause over-pressurization, rupturing the cannon. We also need to build the carriages the cannon will sit in, as well as a method for changing its elevation reliably when aiming it. That is, more or less, simple carpentry and blacksmithing not far off of what you’re people are already doing, so it shouldn’t require any major retooling.”

“If it’s as simple as you’re suggesting, then hopefully we’ll be able to do the test sometime next week.”

“Good. We’re going to need these soon, and we’re going to need enough of them to stage at possible points where the Carthaginians might land, since we probably won’t have more than a day’s notice from the first time we sight them.”

“I understand. These are my top priority. Once we test them, I believe I can get enough produced to for you in time. The gunpowder will be trickier and it’s unlikely you’ll have more than twenty shots to any gun, if I’m right about the number of guns you want. We’re still producing more, of course, but it will probably be another nine months before the nitrate beds start producing enough for us to really increase production.”

“I understand. Do your best. Where are we on the other projects? Last I heard, we were far behind on the semaphore towers.”

“We’re making better progress. We’ve got work crews augmented by some of the forced labor from the prison camps out building at least the basic structures of each tower now. We’re leaving the more complex parts to my teams, but since they now only have to add the winch and pulley system and new braces for flags and lanterns, it should take them only a few days at each tower to get it functional. I believe we’ll have the first chain to Londinium completed in the week.”

“Good. Good. Be prepared to send teams over to Ériunia to begin building a signal system there as well. If they decide to join the empire, I want to be ready to get to work with as little delay as possible.”

“I’ll see to it.”

“Thanks. I want to get back to Lucilla, but please let me know if you have any questions.”

***

Emain Macha

Llassar rode into the Ulaid capital for the third time, and found the experience very different than his first two. Instead of being led in chains or ahead of fleeing men into a city cowering in fear of an army at its doorsteps, he was welcomed into the city as a conquering hero. Or at least the group he was with was welcomed that way.

The prince, who Velius had sent back with Llassar so he could report to his father, took all of it as a sign of his people’s love of him, and was basking in their shouts of admiration and strips of red cloth being thrown at him from the people lining the street to the central meeting hall.

Llassar knew better. They were celebrating being alive and this was their first opportunity to see soldiers, even the small number that had ridden with him and the prince, returning in victory. Llassar knew the people could be fickle. They might have a loyalty to his father, who they had seen as king for more than ten years, but princes came and went. All it would take was one defeat or bad harvest for their cheers to change into shouts of anger.

Still, he did prefer this welcome to the last two.

The king was again waiting on the steps as the party rode up to the meeting hall. The prince, seeing his father, leaped off the horse and jogged up to meet him.

“I hear we have won a great victory.”

“Father, you wouldn’t believe it. The fighting was like nothing I’ve seen. We were surrounded on all sides. Our enemies were dying under our swords until we created giant mounds of their corpses that their friends had to crawl over to continue the attack.”

“Our swords, is it” Conchobar said, with a smile at the young man’s enthusiasm.

“Yes. Our swords. I was with the legate and his officers as they directed the fight, when there was a break in the line. He’d already sent in all of his reserves and there was no one left to stop the break from becoming a route, so he charged in, and the rest of us followed. I killed two men myself.”

When the king looked past his son to Llassar.

Llassar said, “We told you there would be danger in having him with us and you insisted he needed to see war firsthand if he was to lead your people one day. How was he to do that without ever fighting? The boy did well.”

The king made a face, but Llassar didn’t back down.

“You should have seen him. While I was fighting the men that I killed, Llassar killed seven men. Several of them he fought two at a time. You should see these Romans …”

“Britannians,” Llassar corrected. “They may all dress the same, but many of those soldiers were Caledonians, not Romans.”

“Yes, Britannians. You should have seen them fight. They were a wall that the Concani, Vodiae, and Velabri warriors smashed into and died, over and over. They had dug out these long trenches around their fortified camp and then killed so many men that the trenches were full again, so that the men behind them could just walk over the bodies. It will take generations for the southern kingdoms to be able to field an army again after that victory.”

“You’d be surprised how fast a people can get new men under arms, even when losing thousands in a single defeat,” his father said. “But I am pleased to hear of the victory. Let’s go inside, and you can tell me about our great victory.”

They followed the king into the meeting hall that served as both his throne room and as a place for the leaders to meet. For now, it was empty of anyone but the king, his guards, the prince, and Llassar’s party.

Settling into his throne at the far end of the circular room, Conchobar asked, “Now tell me how things stand. My son has fawned over the valor of the Britannian soldiers, but what of our warriors.”

The prince frowned and looked away from his father, which was a good indication of what had happened to them.

“They had decided against setting up a fortified encampment that Velius recommended and his legions use. They also didn’t put out guards to watch for an attack, and were caught unaware when the enemy broke from the trees. We left the morning after the victory, so I don’t know the full extent, but my understanding is that the losses were significant.”

“I see,” Conchobar said.

“I am sorry you had to lose so many men, but this is a lesson that my people had to learn very quickly, and I hope yours can, too. The world is changing, and it will continue to change very quickly over the next several years. The days of wars being won by whoever had the strongest warriors is over. To win against the armies like the Carthaginians, you need an organized and well-trained army, and the armies must know when and where they should fight, not just charge directly into the opposing army, with whoever runs first losing.”

“So you keep telling me. So where are we after this victory?”

“The Carthaginians were never involved in the last battle at all. They set their allies on us while moving the last of their phalanxes into the port they’ve been using as a base of operations. Their local allies have all but melted away at this point, having lost the bulk of their armies, they’ve run back to their capitals. The port the Carthaginians have been using isn’t even really a port, from what we’ve been able to garner from our prisoners. With a single dock that the Carthaginians themselves installed and no walls around the city, it’s a poor position to defend. They split from their local allies as soon as we crossed the southern mountains, so they’ve had time to build up the city's defenses, but there hasn’t been enough time to do much beyond simple wooden barricades and trenches. With the way the phalanxes fight, that isn’t enough to counter our larger force in the same way we used similar defenses to fight of the rebel kingdoms. If I was them, I would be trying to evacuate my remaining men, especially since they still have an island nearby under their control to run to, but it’s impossible to tell what they will actually do. In any event, I don’t believe Velius will have much trouble taking the port, which just leaves your rebel kingdoms to deal with, which we will leave to you and your armies.”

“You’re removing your forces? What if the Carthaginians come back?”

“That will be difficult. They’ve lost their hold on Britannia, which means they have just the island the Romans call Manavia as a base to operate off of, and I believe the Consul has plans for dealing with that as well. Once that island is under our control, any Carthaginian forces would have to come from the mainland and be supplied from there. They’d have to bypass Britannia to come for you, which would leave them vulnerable. I don’t think they will make an attempt to retake your lands without first trying to reclaim their lost lands on Britannia.”

“What about the rebel kingdoms. My armies are all but destroyed. I can’t reconquer those lands without your armies.”

“With all due respect, that is not our problem. We offered to help you free your land of the Carthaginian invaders and did so, losing many of our men in the process. We welcome continued trade between our people and the aid we have already provided will go a long way to re-equipping a new army, but that is as far as you wanted to go when we first discussed an alliance between our people.”

“This is about becoming a member of your empire and submitting to your Roman emperor. You think you can blackmail us into submitting?”

“I do not, nor am I asking you to. We came in the spirit of friendship and spent Britannian lives to remove the real danger looming on your very doorstep. Had we not, you would have already been killed and your kingdom would now be another Carthaginian outpost. For that help, we ask nothing further beyond the consideration of some kind of ongoing trade relationship. As deals go, that seems like a very fair bargain, and one that we lived up to. If you feel we haven’t, then we can end our relations here.”

“No,” Conchobar said hastily. “No. I’m not suggesting that. I just hoped you’d continue helping me reclaim my kingdom and bring peace to this island.”

“A noble goal and one we can admire, but it will cost yet more Britannian lives and treasure, which we will need for our ongoing fight against the Carthaginians. If you were a member of our alliance, you wouldn’t have to ask for help retaking your lands and bringing the rebels under control, since you would have as much right to military security as the rest of us. The legions would be fighting for you the same way they fight for my people or the Romans on Britannia. We would protect you from future Carthaginian attacks, set up a branch of the praetorians whose job it is to maintain order and peace on the island, open up our markets to your people and give you full access to all of the new technological innovations coming out of the empire. You would also still maintain autonomy to govern your people as you see fit, with the only check being the imperial senate, of which you’d have an equal voice with every other member.”

“I don’t like the idea of having to answer to someone else on how to rule my people. Even if we have an equal say, it still gives you and the Romans the ability to tell me how to rule my lands.”

“That is up to you, your majesty.”

Conchobar sat silently, staring at Llassar. Llassar looked passively back at him, neither challenging him nor backing down. He knew the king was in a no-win position. Before the Carthaginian's arrival, the Ulaid had relied on the other kingdoms fighting amongst themselves to keep control of their lands. All of the kingdoms that rallied to the Carthaginians were now working together and there was a chance they would continue to do so even after the Carthaginians were gone. Conchobar knew his only chance was to conquer the entire island, and even if the Britannians stayed and helped him do that, he wouldn’t be able to hold those lands when the Britannians left. He needed Britannians continued support, but he wanted it on his terms. Which wasn’t going to happen.

“So if we do want to explore joining your empire, how would we do that,” Conchobar finally said.

“You would need to go speak with the Consul, the Emperor and probably members of the imperial senate. I wouldn’t say negotiate, since neither my people nor the Romans would be willing to allow you to join the empire on terms better than those we had to join under, but you could discuss it with them and they could hopefully ease your concerns over loss of independence. They are not unreasonable and will hear you out. It was made very clear to me when I was sent here that we were not invading your kingdom and wanted you as allies, not subjects. If you decide you do not like what they have to say, then you are free to return and govern your lands as you see fit.”

“It is a dangerous time for me to be leaving my people,” Conchobar said.

“Do you have someone else you trust to send to negotiate in your stead?”

“For this? No.”

“Then you have to go yourself.”

“Will you leave your legions here until I return? I don’t want to go negotiate the future of my kingdom, only to find it gone when I return.”

“We will. I will return with you to Britannia, since I don’t think there are many there who know your language, and leave Velius here with his legions. He still has to take the southern port, but that shouldn’t take long. He will ensure the other kingdoms don’t turn on you while you’re gone. Your son has been working with Velius during the campaign. I know he’s young, but this might be a good chance for him to get a taste of leadership while you are gone.”

Conchobar looked doubtful. Llassar didn’t doubt he loved and trusted his son, but there was a long history among every nation he’d heard of, including the Roman's current emperor, of sons trying to usurp their father’s power. In some cases, a king leaving their son in command in their absence could return to find they no longer had a kingdom.

Llassar knew that thought went through Conchobar’s head, but this situation was different. The Ulaid had no functioning military at the moment and were reliant on the Britannians, who could have taken his kingdom over already, if they really wanted to. Of course, perhaps he thought this was some form of an elaborate trap, and he’d find himself in chains when he landed on Britannia. That wasn’t unheard of, after all.

“I think that might work. Some of my advisors will remain to help guide you in this, as well as a good portion of my guard, to ensure you are well protected. I assume the legions will return here after they finish off the last of the invaders, to ensure the kingdom remains secure.”

Llassar had no doubt the personal guard being left behind were more to keep the prince from getting ideas than for his protection, but if that’s what Conchobar needed to feel safe enough to travel to Britannia, he wasn’t going to argue.

“I will send a messenger to Velius at once, informing him of what’s happening. I’m certain he will keep everything as it is until you return.”

“Fine. Then let’s go see your emperor.”