Dark Intrigue (3)
The gladiatorial games celebrating the emperor's ascension concluded with resounding success. Having sufficiently imprinted the emperor on the minds of the capital's citizens, I turned my attention to the legionnaires.
The northern legions that could threaten the heartland and the Praetorian Guard were under my influence, but it would still spell trouble if they didn't hold loyalty toward the emperor.
Even if we'd extracted oaths of fealty, building recognition among the troops was a separate matter. This would only be resolved if the emperor personally led campaigns multiple times and shared hardships with the soldiers—but I couldn't expect that of a boy emperor.
I racked my brains over the issue until the specialist bureaucrats offered a simple solution.
"Mint new currency bearing His Majesty's portrait?"
"Yes. When a new emperor ascends, issuing fresh coinage is the simplest way to familiarize the troops with his face."
I'd heard of such methods before.
But wasn't that only feasible when precious metals were abundant?
"And where do we procure the necessary metals?"
When I raised the point, the treasury secretary looked unperturbed.
"Melt down the existing gold and silver coins."
"Ah, of course."
Experts indeed—they'd devised a straightforward fix I hadn't considered.
Following the treasury secretary's advice, I ordered the melting of old currency to expedite new minting.
But while preparations were underway, a crisis erupted.
"Fire! Fire!"
I bolted awake in my bedroom to the sudden cry of "fire."
"Fire? Where?"
As I hastily donned my clothes and emerged, a Praetorian rushed up to report.
"The public bathhouse."
"Damn it all."
I threw on my cloak and hurried from the residence.
Crowds had gathered at the news, frantically fighting the blaze, but the bathhouse was a scene of chaos. I ordered my Praetorians to control the onlookers, then grabbed a bucket myself and joined the suppression efforts.
My example spurred some of the mere spectators to help. We drew water from the plaza fountain and doused the flames.
As the fire began to die down, Rikius arrived leading his soldiers. He'd been stationed at the Praetorian barracks on the capital's outskirts as a precaution, which delayed him.
"Sir, are you all right?"
Rikius asked, eyeing my soot- and sweat-streaked face.
"I'm fine. More importantly, it looks like quite a few died in the bathhouse. Summon the capital magistrate and the bathhouse overseer as quickly as possible."
"Yes, sir."
Rikius saluted across his chest and withdrew.
Gazing at the smoldering ruins, a heavy weight settled in my chest. A fire in a state-run bathhouse claiming lives right at the start of the emperor's reign—it felt like the fragile public favor we'd built was crumbling away.
As I stood there stunned, belatedly arrived bereaved families arrived and broke into sobs at the sight.
Most victims were elderly male citizens who'd used the bathhouse late at night as a social venue.
I allowed the families to view the site under Praetorian escort but barred access to the fire's origin points—for later investigation into possible arson.
Thirty minutes later, the summoned capital magistrate and bathhouse overseer arrived. They looked as shocked as anyone, their faces pale with dismay.
I scanned them coolly, my expression turning icy at the overseer.
"How is the bathhouse managed now?"
"We have thirty-two freed slaves from the slave management office and sixteen hired citizens. Some oversee the firing of the baths."
"And yet a fire breaks out?"
"I truly don't know how. We've been meticulous about fire safety."
The overseer looked genuinely aggrieved.
But the damage was done.
"Then find out how it started. Fail, and you'll answer for it. You have one week."
"Y-yes, sir."
The overseer swallowed hard.
"As for the magistrate, provide full support to the victims' families—from coffins for funerals to burial costs."
"Understood."
I dismissed them and beckoned Rikius.
"Yes, sir?"
"You'll conduct a separate investigation."
"An investigation?"
"Dig into the bathhouse overseer, the supervisors, and any officials tied to its management. If it was an accident, so be it—but if deliberate, it's a direct challenge to His Majesty."
"I understand."
"Investigate thoroughly for the empire's sake. I'll watch your back."
Rikius bowed silently.
I watched the weeping families a moment longer, then turned away.
The capital buzzed with unrest from the midnight bathhouse blaze. I did my utmost to respond, but lacking political savvy, I struggled to fully manage the "crisis." I keenly felt the void left by competent bureaucrats.
Fortunately, the cabinet gap didn't last.
The chief secretary and most imperial secretaries, who'd accompanied Marius east, returned to the capital. I offloaded the urgent matters onto them and ordered resolution.
But trials testing my capabilities didn't end there.
Days later, a mysterious plague swept the capital—the same unnamed contagion that had ravaged the legions withdrawing from the east.
I tried legion-style measures, but containing it in a million-strong city proved impossible. As cases exploded, I issued a ruthless decree.
"Isolate all patients. Burn every house and possession they've touched."
Drawing from imperial precedents, I invoked the last resort against epidemics. The citizenry rebelled fiercely.
"Burn our homes? Absurd orders! The Praetorian prefect destroying our property must step down!"
"Is the prefect a tyrant lording over the capital?"
I refused to rescind despite the outcry.
Soon, Senate voices rose in condemnation—exploiting the backlash for "criticism."
Exasperating.
The fierce opposition made me question my resolve.
Returning home with a sigh, Erenia took my cloak and asked,
"You've been through a lot lately, haven't you?"
"A bit."
She smiled at my reply.
"It's because you stopped at the throne's threshold."
"What do you mean?"
She sat on the bed.
"My second brother was the same. He had every quality and qualification to be king but hated competing with our eldest. He had no desire for the crown—much like you.
Yet everyone saw him as heir apparent. Unintentionally, he'd climbed the stairs to the throne. Though he refused to ascend, he still faced endless plots from those backing the eldest—despite his lack of ambition."
"The empire isn't Dein."
Her emerald eyes gleamed.
"Power's nature is universal. You know that better than anyone."
"So I should become emperor?"
"That'd be difficult—you wouldn't want it. I just don't want you plagued by schemes."
"Is there a way?"
"Show your strength."
"Strength?"
"Yes. When you first entered the capital, the empire's power brokers held their breath—fearing your Praetorians. But now you're seen as a politician, not a soldier.
They know you're playing politics, so your Guard no longer seems a threat. Prove otherwise. Show that challenging you means death."
"That's dangerous."
I sank into a chair. She meant well but didn't grasp the empire. In barbarian lands, raw power sufficed—but in our civilized realm, legitimacy mattered just as much.
"Not killing anyone outright. Just demonstrate."
Demonstrate strength.
I pondered.
But with my influence already suppressed to bolster the emperor, was resurfacing wise?
It would cast me as the soldier-king.
"I'll think on it."
I tabled her suggestion.
Amid the capital's tense undercurrents, a vicious rumor spread: Praetorian Prefect Ain would soon usurp the throne. Rikius was livid upon hearing it.
"Usurp? If you'd wanted, sir, you'd be wearing the purple cloak by now. These rats spewing nonsense."
I closed my eyes.
"Commander, these recent events clearly aim at one goal."
"Driving a wedge between the young emperor and me—making him fear my power, destabilizing the regime so I'll step aside without clinging to position."
A scheme that pierced my character precisely. If the emperor dreaded my might and the empire shook, I'd withdraw voluntarily.
Who?
I mulled it over.
The Senate elders?
No—they barely knew me. To most, I was just a lucky frontier upstart.
The consuls?
Same.
The chief secretary?
As Marius's confidant, he knew me somewhat—but having collaborated with me around Marius, he had no reason to scheme.
Even if wary of my power's swell, ousting me would leave a vacuum neither he nor the emperor could fill. He knew better than to overplay.
Then who?
I reviewed threats.
Prince Brikin.
He and his tribe were under my sway. Even harboring grudge, Brikin—prizing his people's safety—wouldn't risk imperial stability.
Eastern Army commander Carssus.
Too far east. Orchestrating from a thousand kilometers away? Fantasy.
Ersia's Shapur.
Motive and means aplenty as chief foe—but same distance issue. Ersian reach into the empire's heart? Impossible.
Finally, Garin.
I lingered on the name.
The legion traitor whose whereabouts were unknown.
Brikin said he'd fled barbarian lands, but I doubted full candor. If Garin lurked in the capital...
Garin would understand me.
Once comrade, battle-brother through life and death.
I bit my lip.
But I don't want you scheming. I closed the book on you with that death sentence at Lansk. If you've gone, stay gone. Sincerely.
Lost in thought, I heard, "We need countermeasures, sir. Start with the rumor-mongers."
"Fight rumor with rumor. Spread tales of throne-coveting schemers—name some senators."
"Yes, sir."
"And Rikius—investigation progress?"
"No leads. The overseer reports the bathhouse manager and several freed slaves and slaves asphyxiated near the fire pit—hard to ascertain truth."
"Troublesome. Dig as far as possible."
"Yes."
"Dismissed."
I waved them out.
(To be continued)