Chapter 3

Ky made his way from meeting the Carthaginian general to Velius’s command tent. During the day, he had been out among the lines, making sure his men were on guard for any Carthaginian counterattack to break the siege and ensuring they had all of the supplies they needed. Ky guessed that, after their meeting about the Carthaginian prisoners, the legate was still in his command tent, reviewing the next day’s orders with his subordinates.

On top of having a good mind for strategy and impressive personal bravery, one of the things Ky found most useful in him as a subordinate was his strong organizational and command skills. If merit had led the Roman legions prior to Ky’s arrival, he would have been in command of all of Rome’s forces instead of fools like Globulus and Eborius, both of whom fell beneath their impressive incompetence.

Aside from Lucilla, he might be the person Ky trusted the most to run things when he wasn’t around, all of which was what led him to the legate’s tent.

“Consul,” Velius said, turning away from the map he’d been looking over.

“Our guest is very impressive.”

“Really? I found him tedious. All he would say, over and over, was that he would not betray his empire. He assumes any privileges we give him are some sort of ploy to soften him up to speak to us.”

“Is he wrong?”

“Yes. Well, no, it would be a helpful side effect, but we would do it either way.”

“True, but he doesn’t know that. The Carthaginians usually just massacre all enemy survivors, so it’s doubtful he’s had many opportunities to consider this from the other side.”

“True. Still, I don’t think we’ll get much out of him.”

“Maybe, maybe not, but we have to keep trying. Everything in Ramirus’s reports says that he was one of the Carthaginian’s premier commanders until fairly recently. Being shipped out to a backwater corner of their empire is a pretty big message of disapproval, and one-time insiders being pushed to the outside don’t stay loyal for long.”

“I don’t know. Considering the size of the force and how big of an annoyance we must have become, this isn’t as much of a step down as it once would have been. And he seemed pretty adamant about remaining loyal.”

“True, but we have to keep trying. I think the Carthaginians will help us out, though.”

“How so?”

“They have a bad tendency to blame the commander for failures and take outsized retribution for those failures, regardless if the commander is to blame for a loss. It’s why they have so many leaders better at covering their own asses than actually leading armies, and probably what caused him to start losing favor in the first place. There’s a chance they’ll take some kind of drastic action, making him an example for other commanders. Even though they’ve made so many examples over the years, I’m not sure what they’d hope to accomplish doing it again. But it seems to be their way.”

“And if they don’t.”

“Then we try something else. Isolation can break a man down, faster if it’s seen as preferred treatment instead of a punishment. He’ll get all of the negatives that come with isolation without being able to use stubbornness and resentment as a shield against it. We’ll have Ramirus’s more ... diplomatic interrogators continue working on the general. One way or another, we need to find out what he knows. Ramirus has decent sources on the continent, but most of what we get from Africa is second-hand at best. He has real information about the state of the rest of their empire, which will be important once we get past securing Britannia and start looking to the next step. Right now, we’re blind to pretty much everything happening outside of Hispania or the Germanic coast.”

“I’ll make sure he’s kept apart from the rest of his men.”

“Actually, I’m going to be moving my flag to Ursinus’s legion and I want you to send him over there. Sit down with Ursinus and make sure he knows how to deal with the general before you leave.”

“I’m leaving?”

“Lucilla is headed back to Devnum tomorrow. I’m sending your legion, the fourth and the ninth legions with her, along with any Caledonians who don’t return home. You’re to hold outside Devnum until we hear from Llassar. His big play with the Hibernians is military assistance against the Carthaginians and any of the southern rivals they’ve managed to turn into client states. If he’s successful, you’ll need to be ready to get your men across the strait to make good on that offer. Llassar knows the people there, so I suggest you take his counsel seriously, but you’ll be in charge of our forces. I need you two to work together to get the people there to at least sign an alliance with us and, if possible, get them to join the new Empire under the same terms as the Caledonians. Llassar knows what to do on that front, so work with him and get it done.”

As he spoke, Ky could see Velius’s expression change from one of displeasure, when he thought he was being removed from the final stages of the fight against the Carthaginians on this island, to excitement at the idea of running his own military action. It was a big step up for him as a commander, since under the previous senior legates, he’d gotten very little taste of independent command.

“I’ll see to it at once.”

“I know you will. When you get to Devnum, start working on securing the boats and logistics to get your men across as soon as they’re called for. I have faith in you, Velius. Don’t let me down.”

Emain Macha

The throne room was just as Llassar remembered it, only smaller. It was still a large single room, its wooden timbers bent into a circular shape, making it unique among the places he’d been to. When he’d come as a younger man, Llassar remembered being astounded by the size of this one room, its curved walls seeming to stretch forever.

Of course, that was when he only knew of life among his people, whose largest huts could hold thirty men at best. Now he’d fought beside Romans, stood in their great forum which held two hundred men, well spread out among the benches carved out of marble.

He’d been impressed with the permanence of the building, its wooden walls and thick beams seeming like they’d last forever compared to the dried mud and leather of the buildings in Caledonia. The Romans had changed his perception on that front as well. Where his people built out of mud and these people built out of wood, the Romans built out of stone. He’d like to think his interactions with the southerners hadn’t colored his perceptions of the world, but clearly, they had.

Now, this mighty capital with its architectural wonder seemed quaint, almost provincial. It was strange that it took crossing the straits to the land of the Ériu for him to realize his perceptions had changed.

That wasn’t the only change he was expecting. When he’d been here last, Eochaid Sálbuide sat on the throne. A powerful man, his thick black beard making his dark eyes seem almost black, hooded under unruly eyebrows. He was a warrior king, much like Llassar’s own liege, Talogren. Llassar had watched the king of the Ulaid fight with a giant axe, cleaving men in two as he led his warriors into battle.