The Sun Sets (3)
Late in the afternoon, I opened my eyes from the chair. Having raced nonstop to the capital, I must have dozed off briefly in it since I hadn't rested at all. Rubbing my stiff neck, I stepped out of the barracks when I heard the commotion outside.
"What's all the racket?"
As I emerged from the camp, a few soldiers who had been murmuring fell silent and reported to me.
"His Majesty has passed away suddenly, and the Senate has notified us that they will elect a new emperor."
These crazy old fools.
I was furious that the emperor's death had been announced. No matter how much power those geezers pooled, they knew they couldn't install an emperor without my legion's approval. This was just their way of pressuring us—don't ignore us.
Thanks to them, my plan to quietly elevate Alexius went up in smoke. Now everyone would know the throne was vacant. A smooth succession was out of the question.
This is a headache.
I hurriedly sought out the Praetorian Guard commanders.
At that moment, some of the soldiers knelt toward me and shouted.
"Excellency! We refuse to accept the Senate's emperor. We believe only you, Commander, are fit to be the empire's true sovereign. Accept our acclamation and ascend the throne! Emperor Majesty!"
"Ascend the throne! Emperor Majesty!"
The soldiers echoed in response.
I gritted my teeth and summoned the officers, ordering them to assemble the troops in the parade ground.
Once the soldiers had gathered, I mounted the platform and spoke in as cold a voice as I could muster.
"Acclaiming me emperor? What nonsense is this?"
"We are citizens of the empire too. We have the right to acclaim an emperor. Become our emperor and lead the empire!"
"I cannot accept your request."
I cut them off sharply.
"Majesty!"
"I am not emperor. Nor can I ascend the throne. There have been enough soldier-emperors in our history."
"But if not you, Commander, who is fit for the throne? We will serve no one else as emperor!"
"Alexius. As the blood of Emperor Marius, he has the qualification."
I chose the direct confrontation. The troops paused at the name, then gasped in shock.
"Alexius is just a boy in his early teens! How can we serve such a one as emperor?"
"Commander! The empire is in crisis. We need a strong emperor!"
"That's precisely why Alexius must ascend. What happens after me if I take the throne and die suddenly?"
The soldiers hesitated at my words.
"Is there any guarantee that frontier field commanders won't covet the throne, using me as precedent?"
"B-but."
"Nothing in this world is certain. Who could have foreseen Emperor Marius's death? I don't know when I'll die either. Only the gods know. For the empire's future, we must proceed with caution. Think of the empire's future, I beg you."
"Commander."
The soldiers knelt, gazing up at me. They still hoped I'd reconsider.
But I was resolute.
"I refuse your acclamation. So choose: make me a traitor and kill me, or follow me and serve Alexius."
The troops fell silent.
Then Rikius stepped forward.
"The Praetorian Guard obeys the commander's orders. Long live Emperor Alexius! Glory to the new emperor's reign!"
With the battalion commander taking the lead, the officers followed, and then the soldiers reluctantly shouted Alexius's name.
"Long live Emperor Majesty! We shall follow Imperator Ain's will."
I knew then that I'd cleared the first hurdle.
But if even the Praetorians—practically my own direct command—hesitated to swear loyalty to the "new emperor," the problem was grave.
I decided to rush the follow-up measures without delay.
I dispatched messengers to the Northern Army's key legions, asking for their cooperation in acclaiming the new emperor, and had them bring Alexius to the capital.
And to sternly warn the Senate—the source of this uproar—I entered the capital at the head of three hundred Praetorians.
"It's the Praetorian commander."
The capital's citizens watched warily as I led the Guard into the city.
It was understandable. I was a hero on the frontiers, but in the capital, I was an unpopular politician. I'd suppressed the citizens with force on the emperor's behalf and intimidated the Senate with the Guard—no kind words for that.
And if word spread about my barbarian wife, eggs and tomatoes flying wouldn't be surprising. Of course, few would dare try it against the empire's top powerbroker.
I strode rigidly across the main avenue, meeting the citizens' stares. Word of my arrival must have spread; Praetorians already in the capital lined up to greet me.
When I reached the Senate house, the centurion who came out to meet me saluted with arm across chest.
"Commander. The senators are gathered in the Senate."
"After proclaiming an emperor, of course they'd convene. Let's go."
"Yes, sir."
The Praetorian officers led the way, black cloaks billowing. Escorted by them, I ascended the Senate hall steps with full pomp.
Inside, the senators waited with tense expressions. Most stood rather than sat. A few senior ones approached me.
"We didn't expect you back in the capital so soon, Commander."
"Nor did I expect the Senate to announce His Majesty's death."
The old senator Crusio gave an awkward smile at my curt reply.
"We couldn't leave the throne vacant long, so we acted. Surely the general understands."
"Very well. But first, I have words for the senators."
Crusio spread his hands in invitation.
"The empire's Praetorians and legions, as free citizens, wish to voice their choice for the new emperor."
"Whom do you acclaim?"
One senator asked. He eyed me, clearly assuming I'd claim it myself. The others seemed to think the same.
"Alexius."
"Alexius?"
Murmurs rippled through the senators at the unexpected name. No wonder—they'd never imagined it.
The Senate likely saw me as the frontrunner. Proven ability, high position, solid legion backing.
All I lacked was legitimacy and Senate support, but plenty of ambitious soldiers had ignored that to seize the throne.
Yet I defied their expectations.
A teenage boy, Alexius, as successor.
As confusion spread, Crusio stepped forward.
"Alexius is His Majesty's cousin, with an honorable record, I believe. But General, he's far too young. With Shapur rampant in the East and barbarians in the North, does he have the experience to lead the empire now?"
"Of course he lacks it. But his bloodline—the one the frontier legions trusted in Emperor Marius—is what matters."
"If it's legion trust, wouldn't you be better?"
Crusio asked.
Of course he was right.
But if I became emperor, problems would inevitably arise. Officially making my barbarian wife Erenia empress would breed discontent; to offset it, I'd have to bow to the Senate.
Beyond that, I'd owe ample rewards to the Praetorians and legions who put me there. Could the empire on the brink afford it?
I didn't think so.
Better to crown the inexperienced Alexius. The merit of enthroning him would be mine, sparing the imperial house separate repayments.
No need to court Senate favor either. Politically, Alexius's accession burdened the throne least.
I answered coolly.
"True, but deciding an emperor by ability and popularity alone—what's that but reopening the age of soldier-emperors?"
"Your point is well taken. But couldn't we consider other candidates besides Alexius?"
"Name them."
"What of Eastern Army commander General Carssus?"
Crusio said.
I bit my lip at that.
So the old men are playing their hand.
Unable to match my force, they drag in the Eastern Army. Success or failure, once Carssus was floated as a candidate, pushing anyone else would sour relations.
"For the same reasons, no. An emperor from the legions spells trouble on the next vacancy. My Praetorians and I reject General Carssus's acclamation on those grounds."
I rejected it firmly, prepared to make an enemy of Carssus.
"Very well."
Crusio backed down readily.
But he'd achieved his goal.
Now Eastern Army commander Carssus would fear becoming my and the new emperor's foe merely for being named a candidate.
Worried his head might roll anytime, he'd seek safeguards in the capital—and that meant cozying up to the Senate.
I despised the Senate's ploy to divide the military, but escalating now would hurt. I needed to minimize noise in the accession process.
Alexius, my pick, had many vulnerabilities. Any uproar would weaken his shaky position further.
I scanned the senators.
"No one else to nominate candidates?"
They exchanged glances, then nodded. Senators from emperor-producing houses wanted to speak but lacked credentials or backing.
I signaled Rikius to enter.
He carried in a large jar and set it in the hall's center.
"Today, here, I acclaim Alexius the new emperor. I ask the senators' support."
As I turned with cloak billowing, Praetorians entered, distributing potsherd fragments to the senators.
The senators took them and wrote their chosen emperor's name.
In truth, post-Baccus, the Senate was little more than a rubber stamp. I watched the voting, then told Rikius.
"The count must be unanimous. Pressure the chair to announce only 'Alexius' names."
"Of course."
I wanted the new emperor to ascend with the Senate's "absolute support." A boy with a few honorary titles needed at least the appearance of legitimacy.
Only then would the citizens believe he was special, worthy of following.
I left Rikius to oversee the vote and stepped out briefly. As I exited the hall, one of the emperor's secretaries bowed to me.
"Excellency."
"What is it?"
"The Chief Secretary in the East has sent an urgent letter for the Praetorian Prefect."
"The Chief Secretary?"
I unfolded the parchment he handed me.
The Emperor did not die of overwork.
He was murdered in his bath.
By a slave.
I groaned upon reading the letter.
Murdered, not overwork? In the bath—by a slave?
The emperor's assassination was gravely serious.
If known, the Senate—cowed by legion might—wouldn't stay quiet. They'd demand accountability from his guards immediately. And I'd share the blame.
The emperor's confidant, the Chief Secretary, knew this; he'd reported overwork death to the homeland but tipped me off privately.
This complicated things.
As his loyal servant, I was duty-bound to uncover the truth.
But investigating now would narrow my position.
Should I pursue the emperor's murder amid this?
I crumpled the parchment viciously.
(To be continued in the next episode)