The Sword of Jupiter (Imperium #1) - Chapter 12

His conversation with Lucilla lasted several more slow laps before  one of the Emperor’s guards found them, signaling it was time to head  towards the Colosseum. After they moved off, the subject of slavery in  the Empire, something he knew would not be solved with a single  conversation anyway, was dropped.

Ky found he enjoyed his time  with her. She told him stories about growing up in the imperial  residence, and some of the trouble she and her brother had managed to  get into as children.

She actually seemed wistful when talking  about her brother. Had Ky not known that her brother was alive and well,  he would have almost thought she was mourning him. He considered asking  about her strained relationship with her brother, but she moved off  onto more cheerful topics by that point in their conversation, and Ky  found he did not want to see her troubled again.

They met the  Emperor at the steps to the imperial complex and joined his procession  of senators, religious leaders, and guards, to the multi-story round  building that sat several blocks away. Ky had to admit that the looming  structure was an impressive sight. He had seen the Colosseum once  through his drone the night before as he tried to get a better idea of  the layout of the city, but that view did not do the building justice.

The  circular building towered above him as he reached the large front gate,  at the moment held clear for the Emperor’s arrival. Behind the line of  imperial and senatorial guards stood a sea of humanity wanting to get  into the stadium. Ky could not imagine that all the people currently  pressing towards the entrance could possibly fit inside, which suggested  the seats were on some kind of first-come, first-serve basis.

The  crowds, although not the swell of noise they generated, disappeared as  Ky passed through the entranceway. As the senators who followed behind  the imperial procession turned right and left, apparently moving to  their own seats, Ky followed the Emperor through an open doorway flanked  by guardsman into a covered area with enough benches for almost a dozen  people. The front row of benches was broken by a single seat at the  very front of the box, which was almost certainly for the Emperor  himself. Ky’s guess was confirmed as Germanicus walked through the rows  of seating and lowered himself into the padded seat.

Over his shoulder, the Emperor said, “Ky, if you and my daughter would please come sit with me.”

He  indicated the bench to his right. Ky tried to let Lucilla sit next to  her father, but she shook her head and sat down with enough room between  herself and her father’s chair for Ky. Ky assumed she knew what she was  doing and did not argue. He did notice the look her brother gave him as  he circled to sit on his father’s left-hand side.

“According  to commentaries reviewed, the position immediately to the Emperors right  during important functions is reserved for the Emperors closest adviser  or heir, depending on the situation.”

While Ky had not  asked, the statement did answer the question of what he had done to  upset Caesius this time. More men filed in behind them, taking seats on  benches. Some he recognized, such as Ramirus  and the Pontiff Maximus from earlier. Others he did not recognize,  although everyone seemed to know everyone else as they talked softly  among each other.

Ky frowned at the slaves that lined the walls,  holding jugs of wine, from which they poured when signaled by one of the  spectators in the Emperor’s box.

“I hope you find this exciting,” the Emperor said, leaning over to him.

“I’m not sure what to expect. Your daughter said that there would be races and some type of personal combat.”

“There  won’t be chariot races as such. There will be a display by several  pairs of chariots, but the competition is not a race, at least not how  our ancestors would have considered chariot races. They had the Circus  Maximus, which was many times longer and somewhat wider than our current  arena. There would be a half dozen chariots moving at top speed as they  flew down the track. Or at least that’s what I’ve heard. My grandfather  constructed a similar, if not as grand, track in Londinium and used to  tell me stories of the races they held. While I am proud of our  amphitheater, the design is not very good for chariot races. By the time  a competitor could get his horses up to speed, he would run out of room  and have to stop.”

“They pretend to do a race?”

“After a  fashion. Everything’s still very exciting, but the drivers keep their  charges at a slow speed while the competitors attempt to dismount the  other teams.”

“The race is more combat among slaves, then; just on chariots, instead of the ground?”

The Emperor turned to look at him, a slight flicker of his eyes indicated the other spectators around them.

“Ky, I welcome your thoughts, but this is not the appropriate time or place.”

Ky  managed to hold back his retort. The Emperor and his daughter had  seemed to Ky to be decent people. Besides, short of burning all bridges  with the Romans, there was not anything he could do about the situation  now. He could not fathom why a man who otherwise seemed decent would sit  and watch this barbarity, even considering the points Lucilla had made  earlier in the day, but he would give the man time to explain. While he  hated the idea of what he was about to see, he held his tongue, and  slightly bowed his head instead.

“As you say, Imperator.”

The  emperor laid a hand on Ky’s shoulders and said in a lower tone, “I know  you are going to have problems with our entertainment, but you must let  things happen as they will. I promise to discuss this with you,  afterward.”

Ky nodded once more and looked to the arena below. A  gate on the other side of the arena opened up, and four chariots pulled  out, lining up two abreast. Each Chariot held a driver and a second  person armed with a weapon. Ky thought the man with the gladius was at a  pretty large disadvantage to the pair using a spear, and both would be  at the mercy of the woman with the short bow. The chariots themselves  had long spiked protrusions from their wheels, and everyone wore some  type of armor, most seemingly a patchwork.

Ky noticed Lucilla shooting him worried glances out of his peripheral vision, and gave her a weak smile.

They  did not have to wait for long as the seats had been mostly filled when  the Emperor’s procession had walked in, which meant all the people Ky  had seen outside of the amphitheater were entirely the overflow.

A man in a small box just off the Emperor’s box stood up, adjusted his ridiculous wig, and unfurled a long scroll.

“A  hundred and twenty-one years ago the great consul Cornelius Lucius  Sulla met the Punic devils on the plains of Hispania at the gates of  Corduba. We relive that day and celebrate the titanic clash on Hannibal  the Younger’s right flank as Sulla’s cavalry pushed the Carthaginians  back, turning his flank. Behold, Rome’s mounted warriors.”

The  crowd erupted in cheers as two of the charioteers, the one with the  spear and the one with the gladius, raised their weapons in salute. Both  chariots were on the outside, closest to the crowds, with the gladius  welding chariot in front and the spear-wielding chariot behind.

“Behold, the dogs of Carthage.”

The  crowd booed for the ‘Carthaginian’ pair of chariots louder than they  cheered for the ‘Romans.’ The passenger in the first chariot of the pair  was armed with a sword as well, although this one was longer and  somewhat thinner than the short, wider bladed gladius. The passenger of  the rear chariot was the woman with the short bow.

Lucilla gave Ky  one last sheepish look and then stood, holding up a white cloth. When  she released the makeshift flag, the chariots took off. Their path was  essentially one long turn, and Ky watched as the drivers tried to push  the mounts as fast as they could without losing control. The first of  the ‘Carthaginian’ chariots, which was on the inside of the circle,  almost did lose control in spite of that. The driver was pushing his  horses hard, and the chariot lifted up on one wheel, forcing the rider  to fall forward, gripping the side of his chariot.

For the first  lap, none of the passengers did anything except lift their weapons or  knock an arrow in the case of the archer. When they passed the starting  point, everything changed. The woman charioteer lifted her bow, an  expression of extreme concentration on her face as the chariot bounced.  She released an arrow ostensibly at the rear ‘Roman’ chariot, but a  sudden bounce made her aim go high, the arrow streaking into the  audience.

Ky was shocked when a citizen in the stands gabbed at  his chest, clawing at the wooden shaft embedded there. Ky thought they  would stop and rush someone to the man’s side, but the chariots  continued, and the cheers and howls of the audience only grew louder. He  was further shocked when no one came to the man’s aid, a few nearby  citizens making room for him to collapse on the ground, never looking  away from the action for more than a glance.

Even in a society with fairly high mortality rates, the casual attitude towards someone’s death shook Ky to the core.

“Aren’t they going to help him?” Ky said, leaning over to the Emperor.

“One  of the attendants will get to him shortly, although they will have some  problems getting through the crowds. When the mob has their blood up,  they aren’t easily dissuaded from their entertainment.”

Ky saw  that someone was pushing through the crowd, almost towards where the man  had fallen. His eyes kept darting towards the racing chariots, but he  did not stop until he reached the man. Ky watched as he pulled on the  fallen citizen’s arms, dragging him out of the way of the other  spectators. While the man was most likely already dead, Ky was still  shocked that none of the people around him had tried to help.

He  was contemplating this when his attention was again drawn towards the  chariots. There was an arrow sticking out of the side of the rear  chariot now, and the archer was trying to line up for another shot when  the Roman chariot finally managed to pull ahead slightly and get close  enough for the gladius wielding passenger to make a move.

Instead  of attacking at either the driver or the archer, the man instead slashed  across the leather halter around the horse and into the horses back.  The horse stumbled and tried to veer off while the rest of the leather  strands that connected the horse to the wooden frame extended from the  chariot began to break loose.

The wooden frame, now freed from the  horse, dropped into the dirt floor of the arena, digging in, causing a  sudden cascade of effects, as the chariot flipped forward and sent the  two riders sailing through the air, while the body of the chariot  crashed onto the still connected horse. Dirt flew in all directions as  animal, man and wood smashed to the ground. Both of the passengers and  the horse that had still been connected lay still, blood seeping into  the dirt, as the remaining horse made a break for the entryway, causing  Roman guards who had been standing on the ramp to jump out of the way.

As  the horse disappeared down the ramp, the spear welding ‘Roman’ made his  move, stabbing out, catching the driver in the side. The spear was  ripped from his hands as the driver fell, the wooden shaft sticking  straight up in the air as the driver dropped to the floor of the  chariot.

The passenger made a grab for the reigns, apparently,  both to keep the chariot going and to force the horses to turn in the  same direction to avoid the collapsed chariot that was quickly coming  up. He did not see the second Roman chariot pull inside of the first,  and probably had no idea he was in danger until the ‘Roman’s’ short  sword stabbed into his back.

With no one holding the reigns and  whipping them to run, the two horses stopped, with the body of the last  ‘Carthaginian’ rolling out the back of the open chariot, onto the dirt.

The  crowd went wild. The cheers and shouts went on for several moments, too  loud for Ky to do anything other than stare at the carnage below him.  Eventually, the announcer raised his hands, and the crowd silenced.

“Once  again, the cowardly Carthaginians are shown the might of Rome! Their  tears wet the sand as our victorious armies crush all that is before  them.”

The crowd roared its applause as a small army of men had  run out of the tunnels to pull the destroyed chariot out of the way as  the two ‘Roman’ chariots finished their victory lap and drove down into  the bowels of the amphitheater.

Once the chariots were pulled out  of the way the announcer again stood, holding his hand for silence. As  he began to speak, a group of men were led into the arena by guards. The  men were wearing tattered clothes, and all looked grimy and  malnourished. They were a stark contrast to the fit and armored slaves  who had driven the chariots in the earlier competition.

“For your  entertainment, a collection of thieves, murderers, and villains, each  destined to the ax. By the mercy of the Roman people, these men each  have a chance at life. If they can survive against some of nature’s most  dangerous creatures, they will earn a reprieve, allowed to join the  ranks of gladiators, and fight for their freedom.”

Ky chose to not  watch most of what followed, as dogs, wolves, bears, and even a pair of  tigers handed out each man’s death sentences. The crowd cheered each  brutal mauling, their volume raising and lowering based on the amount of  gore provided.

Instead, Ky reviewed his choice to stay with the  Romans once again. When he’d told the Emperor he would stay and help  them in their war of survival against the Carthaginians, he had seen  what was probably the best of Romans. There had been missteps, of  course. Globulus was far from the best representative of any culture,  and the attempted sacking of the Carthaginian baggage train had been a  dark incident, but both could be reasoned away. The spectacle before him  now, could not. If he could possibly find an alternative to the horror  show he had seen so far today, he would jump at the chance to change his  mind.

‘What other civilizations are in this timeline besides the  Romans that would be a viable second option?’ Ky sub-vocalized to the  AI.

“No civilizations within feasible access present a compatible likelihood of survival.”

‘I’m  not looking for opinions,’ he said, ignoring the fact that an AI should  not be having opinions in the first place. ‘I just want a list of other  civilizations.’

“Using current timeline, the contemporary  sources by distance from the present location are: Carthaginian,  Novantae, Selgovae, Otadini, Damonii, Caelonii …”

’Stop,’ Ky said, intuiting the AI’s rapid-fire listings.

The  AI had, up to this point, been more helpful and even predictive of what  he needed than Ky had experienced in all the years he had one  implanted. The response this time was so literal as to be almost  passive-aggressive.

‘Sort by closest to furthest away,  governments, either individually or as some type of confederation, with  an organizational and structural system capable of more than a nomadic  or tribal lifestyle.’

“Level of detail on requested civilizations?”

‘Just the minimum needed to make my decisions.’

“The  closest organized governmental body to your current position is the  Carthaginian Empire. The Carthaginians are an absolute dictatorship with  a single individual responsible for both the creation and execution of  laws. Control of lower levels of society by their supreme leader is  accomplished with a religious group devoted to the Carthaginian god of  death known as the Order of Hexitas. They are known to conduct regular  wide-scale executions to both control the populous and as part of their  religious practices. Roman records do not detail the Carthaginian  religious system in adequate detail to determine the prominence of  worshipers of Hexitas in the society beyond their use as a state  security service, however passing references in Roman records suggest  additional deities are worshiped in some capacity. Carthaginian military  power …”

’Stop. Okay, I get it. Carthaginians are a worse choice than the Romans. Who else is there?’

“The  area north of Roman territory is held by a people identified by the  Romans as the Picts. They are, however, not a single, cohesive  government but seventeen distinct tribes known to the Romans. While most  of the tribes listed in the Roman records have corresponding parallels  from the past histories of the originating timeline, available data does  not indicate if these parallels extend beyond naming convention. If the  parallels do extend beyond the naming convention, ten of the seventeen  tribes labeled as Picts by the Romans would have considered themselves  as such. Known divergence does exist between the originating and current  timeline as the tribes in this timeline have formed a coordinating  grouping known as the Caledonian League, a distinction from a similar,  although …”

’Enough. Just give me the base facts, and I’ll ask if I need further explanation.’

“Understood.”

‘How organized is this league?’

“Although  Roman records are extremely limited, available reports indicate the  collection of tribes are loosely controlled by the leader of the  strongest tribe, with no infrastructure in place to allow for  institutional memory. Based on available data, probabilities are high  that the current political arrangement does not last past the single  leader’s lifetime.”

‘Your best estimate is that long term, they will become weaker individual tribes again.’

“Diminishment of the tribes has the highest probability, with some of the tribes being absorbed by the stronger units.”

‘What about the seven tribes not part of the league?’

“The  seven additional tribes not part of the Caledonian League grouped along  the far northern coast and are considered the weakest. If the  Caledonian League remains beyond the lifespan of their leader, models  suggest they will be absorbed into the League. If the League does not  last beyond the life span of their leader, model accuracy becomes  uncertain, although the preponderance of probabilities lead towards  outside invasion conquering all surviving northern tribes.”

‘What about people in Ireland?’

“Only  two records of Irish tribes currently exist, both second-hand accounts  from Scandinavian traders. The first record describes a small tribe  living on the coast and draws the conclusion that the civilizations on  the island are isolated from each other. The second account, as well as  some Roman commentaries on the first, contradicts the conclusion,  pointing to similarities in language and physical artifacts from the  other coastal communities.”

‘Are any large enough to offer enough of a support structure?’

“Insufficient data exists.”

‘What about on the continent?’

“All  areas south of the Rhine are currently under control of the  Carthaginian Empire. North of the Rhine exists a wide range of Germanic  tribes with varying loyalties. The Carthaginian Empire halted expansion  north of the Rhine, opting for a policy of vassalization while it  consolidated holdings in partially conquered areas.”

‘Can we get to most of them?’

“Travel  into the continental interior would be problematic. The coast of the  continent, north of the Rhine, is controlled by a tribe known as the  Frisii, which is a vassal of the Carthaginians. The other tribes along  the Rhine to the east also currently operate as vassals of the  Carthaginians.”

‘Are there any Germanic tribes that aren’t Carthaginian vassals?’

“Along  the Baltic coast, the tribes of the Vandali and the Burgundiōnes are  not under Carthaginian control, although both are under pressure from  both the Carthaginian controlled tribes and eastern tribes being  pressured in turn out of Asia.”

‘Do we have any information on what’s happening outside of Europe?’

“The  entirety of North Africa is under the control of the Carthaginians.  Roman sources provide few details of events in sub-Saharan Africa beyond  the civilizations along the southern sections of the Nile River. While  Roman sources were aware of the existence of the Nile civilizations at  one time, the largest being the Kingdom of Axum, those sources were from  before the Roman relocation to the British Isles. Current data does not  indicate if those civilizations still exist.”

‘Considering  the Carthaginian’s conquering the Persians and now trying to take over  Britain, it seems unlikely they would have left an independent  civilization that could pose a threat alone.’

The AI had no comment on that observation.

Sighing internally, Ky sub-vocalized, ’Continue.’

“Little  is known of Asia beyond the areas Carthage currently controls. While  some records indicate a significant power existing to the Far East,  sufficient data to determine if this civilization is a rumor, a current  timeline version of a Chinese dynasty, or another group unique to this  timeline is not available. Areas outside of Europe, Africa, and Asia are  not currently reachable with available tech levels.”

‘What you’re saying is there aren’t any better choices available to me than Rome?’

“Affirmative, Commander.”

Ky  sighed again. He was not surprised at the answer, both because the AI  had clearly come to the conclusion ahead of time, and because all of the  AI’s information fit with the observations he already had made on his  own.

Every civilization he could find information on seemed to  practice some form of slavery, and reveled in blood sports for  entertainment. The Carthaginians went well beyond that level of  bloodthirst, making the Romans look almost modern by comparison. His  only choice seemed to be with people who found this vile display  entertaining.

A light touch on his arm shook Ky from his thoughts.

“The games have ended, Ky,” she said. “You were … transfixed.”

“I’m sorry, I was lost in thought.”

“We’ve  put enough on our friend’s conscience for one day,” the Emperor said.  “Ky, please escort me back to my residence. I am old and tired and would  like a chance to talk before I get some rest.”

Ky helped the  Emperor to his feet and followed a reverse path back towards the  imperial complex. The crowds outside the amphitheater had not dispersed  entirely but had shrunk significantly in size. The noise level was still  high, with vendors hawking wares and entertainers competing with the  reveling crowds.

Thankfully the environment was quieter inside the  imperial palace as Ky followed the Emperor through to their personal  residence. Ky had expected to have to deal with Caesius, who had spent  the afternoon oscillating between rapt enjoyment of the combat below  them, and casting hateful looks at Ky.

The Emperor’s son had  broken away from the procession as soon as they arrived at the complex,  not saying a word to his father or sister as he turned towards the  courtyard.

“I imagine you did not enjoy that very much,” The  Emperor said as Lucilla closed the door to their sitting area behind  her, leaving the three of them alone.

“No, I didn’t. I’m honestly second-guessing my decision to stay with you.”

“Ky,” Lucilla started but stopped at a gesture from her father.

“From what you’ve said the last few times we’ve spoken, I presume they don’t have this kind of entertainment in your homeland?”

“No.”

“I would like to promise you that there won’t be any more gladiatorial fights or executions by combat.”

“But you won’t,” Ky said, finishing his sentence.

“No.  The mob’s demands for the games are near limitless. Some would tell you  that the games are an outlet for the mob’s limitless bloodlust, but in  truth, they’ve always been used as a way to make the poor forget their  lot in life. The masses of poor and destitute are less likely to turn on  those above them if they have someone below themselves to look down on.  They might have little to eat and live in squalor, but at least they  aren’t a slave fighting for a master’s whim. Our ways of dulling the  masses may be more bloody than what you’re used to, but can you tell me  the haves where you come from don’t have a way of controlling the  have-nots?”

“My home is very different. Everyone is provided with  everything they need to do their jobs. No one goes hungry, and no one is  poor. We are all equal.”

“Is there is no difference between you, a soldier, and someone who creates food or cleans up the waste?”

Ky  almost denied the accusation, but the words died in his throat,  half-formed. He had never considered his society from that perspective.  His life and the lives of everyone else from his timeline had been  structured around his role in society. He was raised and grew up with  the same people, all from his batch. They all trained together to  perform their one role. Yet they could see people from other batches  outperforming their single task. As a pilot, he had been one of the  elite, which meant there were those in batches below his whose  experience must be much different. They were provided with everything  they required, but that did not mean they were provided with everything  they would have wanted.

Even with the strict societal controls he  had grown so used to that he never really considered them broken down  sometimes. In the Io revolt, an entire colony whose prime focus was  mining rose up against the government, protesting their place in the  society until the government violently put the revolt down.

“No, there are differences, although not to the degree you have here.”

“Did those in the groups below yours in status ever fight back or rebel?”

“Yes.”

“Then  we are not so different. I am sure if you think about your society, you  will see even your leaders had to find ways to control those they led.  This may be cruder than you are used to, but the need exists, all the  same.”

“I still don’t like the casual way you spend one person’s life for the entertainment of another.”

“I understand, and I don’t even disagree. I’d be open to any suggestions you might have.”

Ky knew he had been pressed into a corner again.

“Ky, please, just give us a chance. I’m sure we will surprise you,” Lucilla said, staring up at him pleadingly.

“I’m not happy with what I’ve seen today, but I think I would see the same or worse from other places. I will stay.”