The Trumpets of Mars
Chapter 21

Copyright© 2022 by Lumpy

Devnum

Lucilla was exhausted as she finally made her way back into the imperial palace and turned her horse over to the grooms that would take it to the stables. The trip south had been fairly uneventful, since the Romans along the road between Devnum and the border had seen several large formations of Caledonians by now. It was still no easy task to move that many men, their supplies, and the hordes of camp followers across friendly ground without causing undue hardships on the population as they passed.

It wasn’t unusual for armies to be like locusts, stripping the land bare wherever they were, regardless of allegiances. Ky had made it a point to keep that from happening when he’d traveled south with five times the number of men Lucilla had brought, which meant she could do no less.

Thankfully, once they arrived in the capital, she was able to turn the job of getting all these men settled and integrated with their countrymen over to Llassar. He had wisely sent a messenger ahead with instructions to have accommodations for the men prepared. It would still be a few days for them to recover from the march before they were fully able to begin training with the other Caledonians, but not having to build their own camp would speed that process up.

Once she was assured Llassar had everything in hand, she begged off the offered celebratory feasts and returned home. Except for short trips to oracles or to visit outlying towns, mostly as a reminder to the people that the Emperor still knew they existed, Lucilla had spent her entire life in Devnum. After a month away, mostly in the saddle traveling here and there, there was an odd alien feel to her home. The buildings and semi-regularly cleaned streets felt so different after living in temporary camps. The streets - just snow and mud between tents, or in Caledonian villages - weren’t much more permanent than the camps they stayed at most nights.

She wanted nothing more than to escape to the baths, and a night in her own bed; but as usual, that had to wait. Her first, and to her most important, task was to make sure Ky was transferred from the wagon, where he’d spent most of the trip, to the bed in his quarters. Instead of standing outside his room, waiting to be summoned, one of his lictore would be stationed in his room with him at all times, in case his condition changed, in either direction. She left very specific instructions that, while some of the physicians could check on him, they were not to touch him or attempt any procedures unless she approved it, on pain of death.

She still wasn’t clear on how the small things Ky called nanos living inside his body, and now her body, worked, but she knew they were keeping him physically alive. The completely healed gash on his chest was proof enough of that. While she thought nanos could probably counteract whatever they might try to do in their attempts to help him, she wasn’t prepared to risk it. Although Ky was usually very circumspect in his judgments towards the way her people lived, one of the areas where he’d had trouble containing himself, was their medical technology in general and the physicians specifically. He’d spoken to them several times, trying to explain why the way they thought of the human body was wrong and how to better go about treating it, and had run up against stubborn disbelief almost every time.

According to Ky, people in his society rarely died from cuts or childbirth - two things that were all too common in Rome - and they never experienced the regular plagues that swept through Devnum. He’d said, several times, that the worst thing someone could do if they were injured was to seek assistance from one of the city’s physicians, at least until he could convince them to alter their ways.

She was, however, still concerned that this un-waking sleep he was in would end; and he would suddenly stop breathing, or the blood in his veins would stop pumping. Although it seemed unlikely that there was anything she or his guards could do in that event, she wanted to at least know it was happening. By the time she left his annoyed guards, she was at least confident that they understood how important it was to never take their eyes off the Consul, if only to save from incurring her wrath.

Once Ky was safely tucked in bed, she had only one more task to do before she could wash the road grime off of herself. She knew this would be the thing that would take the longest. She loved her father, but at times he could carry on for hours; and, as the dutiful daughter, she had to sit and listen to his musings and act as a sounding board for whatever was bothering him that day.

Although she’d spent a lot of time with Ky since his arrival, there were very few days she could remember not speaking with her father, and this trip had been the longest she’d been separated from him.

She found him deep in conversation with Lurio, the imperial treasurer, which wasn’t an uncommon sight. The empire, more than ever, ran on coin. It was Lurio’s job to make sure it was always available to support whatever the Emperor required. The meeting must not have been critically important, however; because as soon as she entered the small room her father used as his actual working office, he dismissed the treasurer.

“You’ve returned,” he said, coming to his feet to embrace her. “I’ve prayed to the gods every day for your safe return. We received your message about Ky’s condition. Has there been any improvement?”

“No. He is still unable to be woken, although all of his physical wounds have healed themselves.”

“Have the physicians looked at him.”

“No. I’ve given orders that they can see him but aren’t allowed to touch or treat him in any way.”

“What? We need him back with us and soon.”

“I know, and you know that there is no one in the Empire who wants him back more than me, but you’ve experienced their treatments. Do you really think they are able to do anything, especially to him? All of his physical wounds have healed themselves, we just have to be patient for the ones we can’t see to do the same.”

Her father was about to say something, probably another appeal to let the doctors see Ky, when he stopped, his eyes narrowing. She’d seen this before. Her father was a shrewd man, and often worked out things with very little information. She’d reveled when he’d used do this to others, such as politicians who tried to weasel some policy past, but she found it disconcerting to find the same ability turned against her.

“You know something about his condition, don’t you?”

While she wasn’t trying to hide things from her father, she wasn’t sure how to explain Sophus or the tiny beings Ky had in his body controlled by the disembodied voice. Her father wasn’t a superstitious man and considering Ky’s nature, or the nature of some of the things everyone had seen Ky do, he would probably believe her when she described Sophus. It was how Ky and Sophus had described the possibility of this happening that she was hesitant to share.

Partially, she didn’t want to take the hope Ky had built up away from her father, or anyone else. Even though they were surprised by the army that marched on Devnum specifically, everyone had expected something like that for a while. Carthage had been gobbling up border towns, and extending the border for years, and they’d watched for months as the Carthaginians built up troops in Londinium. The mood had been bad for a while as hope slowly faded, although there had been that small group of men who fooled themselves into believing that somehow a few legions would stop the army they all knew was coming. It wasn’t until Ky convinced them that he could make that myth a reality, and then did it, that everyone started to believe. Even though they knew what was coming for them now, most of Lucilla’s people still believed Ky could pull this off again.

If she told them that Ky didn’t know if this was permanent and had said there was a chance he’d never wake up, that hope would shatter, and might not ever come back. She’d decided she’d keep that to herself, even from her father. If Ky didn’t wake up, then they’d do their best to pull off his plan without him. They’d fail, of course, since it relied on some of his abilities, but they’d at least try, instead of rolling over to the inevitable.

She also couldn’t find it in herself to admit, out loud at least, to the possibility that Ky might never come back to her. She hadn’t realized how completely she’d fallen for him, but now she knew she had. The thought of losing him forever made her want to curl up in a ball and ignore the world. Part of her was still amazed she’d ended up here, considering she’d always thought of women who put a man at the center of their entire reality as weak. As the Emperor’s daughter, she’d had many men try and court her, and she’d turned them all down without a second thought. Now she was barely holding it together because she knew there was a chance Ky might never return, or might not be the same person she fell for when he did.

So, she lied, both for her father’s sake and her own.

“Ky told me that something like this might happen. It’s something that rarely happens to his people. He couldn’t give me a timeframe, since it is different for all of them, but he said he would eventually wake up.”

“Why didn’t he tell us, so we could prepare for this eventuality?”

“He didn’t want to tell anyone because he’d hoped he’d somehow find a way to postpone it, or maybe because he didn’t want to accept it was happening. The timing is terrible, which is why he talked to me about it, and named me to act in his stead here while he went north, but he didn’t want to demoralize the men or keep them from continuing to prepare for the coming battle. We probably should have told you, but he asked that I keep it to myself, so I did.”

“So, there’s a chance he might not wake up until it’s too late.”

“There is, but I think he will be back in time. The fact that he still healed himself from what the Caledonians said should have been a fatal wound is a good sign that he will be back. If he isn’t, then we’ll do the best we can, but we need to keep with his plan, so when he does wake up we don’t lose time trying to catch up.”

“You’re suggesting we should keep his condition a secret?”

“I’m not sure if that will be possible. Thousands of Caledonians saw him fall or have seen him lying unmoving, and many of those men returned south to join our forces. By now half the legions know of his condition. I think we only say that it is temporary. The last thing we want is the men making up their own explanations for what is happening, or predictions of his never waking up.”

“Unfortunately, we don’t really know what’s happening either.”

“We can tell them that he is gathering his strength for the battle ahead. Everyone knows he was sent by the gods, and they gave him some of his power, so why would that be surprising. He knows the battle is soon, and he asked the gods to prepare him for it. The timing might not have been ideal, since he fell in the middle of battle, but everyone knows how capricious the gods can be.”

 
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