The Black Raven (1)
As we were nearly finishing up cleaning the battlefield, ships appeared from the east side of the river. I wondered what kind of vessels they were at first, but they turned out to be the ones that had made up the pontoon bridge. Leading those ships was Brikin's flag fluttering proudly.
"I knew Your Excellency would be victorious."
As the ships approached the riverbank, Brikin bowed his head and said.
I thought it was a bit sly of him not to join the battle, but in truth, he'd done exactly what he was supposed to. There was no reason to reprimand him for that.
"Thanks for believing in me. But didn't you burn the pontoon bridge?"
Brikin laughed at my question.
"This isn't a war that ends with just fighting the barbarian army here, is it?"
I smiled. Brikin was the type who, when given one task, delivered two or more. Leaving the bridge dismantled but the ships intact for victory after the battle—it was praiseworthy.
Once he docked the ships, I ordered the engineers to rebuild the pontoon bridge. Since the vessels that would form its base were all intact, it took less than half a day to lay it down.
The moment the bridge was complete, we crossed the river with our great army in tow. Punishing the 'traitors' in the south was left to the allied forces.
As our army crossed, the 'neutral' tribes watching the situation hurriedly bowed their heads and offered themselves as guides. I accepted their goodwill and pressed on toward the north, where the Sartia Tribe and Goti Tribe were.
The Black Forest.
Or should I call it the White Forest?
The snow-covered woods gave a completely different feel from other seasons. A stark silence that seemed to swallow even echoes.
I understood why the soldiers occasionally glanced back south. An unfamiliar anxiety from the north came crashing over us.
But we have to set an example here. If we wipe out the Sartia and Goti, no one will dare cross the border even if we leave. Securing just ten years of peace at the Drvina River would let us get revenge on Shapur too. So we have to finish this.
I walked with the soldiers, encouraging them as we went.
After marching all day, we picked a suitable open field, set up camp, and that's when a messenger came galloping in. I met him with a puzzled expression.
"A messenger from the capital?"
"Yes, Your Excellency."
"What's the matter?"
When I asked, the messenger handed over the letter.
I skimmed it briefly and frowned.
Grain prices in the capital, which were fine, are rising? Prices spiking right when the barbarians clash with us—that's impossible without someone pulling strings artificially. Who the hell is playing these games?
I recalled what Klituss had blabbered the day before.
He'd said imperial politicians promised him land and money for killing me. Of course, without the Sartia and Goti, no such deal would have happened. I bit my lip.
If grain prices rise, the cost of bread rations for the poor doubles. The empire's dwindling treasury will hit rock bottom fast. Even if we win the war, there won't be pay left for the soldiers.
That was the worst-case scenario.
If soldiers shed blood only to get no pay, the legion's loyalty would waver. I'd planned this war as a short campaign precisely because money was short.
Maybe.
The 'collaborators' inside the empire had played a big role in giving the Sartia and Goti the nerve to challenge me. If they kept tripping us up from within, we couldn't advance north with peace of mind.
As always, internal enemies were more annoying and infuriating than the visible ones.
I crumpled the letter in my fist.
With this, major revisions to the endgame strategy were unavoidable.
"Rikius!"
"Yes, Your Excellency."
"Summon the legion commanders."
"Yes, sir."
I entered the command tent with a hardened expression.
The expedition command meeting dragged on in a heavy atmosphere. Everyone's faces stiffened at the unexpected news of the capital's 'grain price surge.' Cogol, with his hands clasped, spoke up.
"If grain prices rise, we'll lack funds for this war. What if we withdraw here?"
Retreating now would end the war before money ran out. No grumbling from the troops. But after breaking the barbarians' backbone, letting the enemy go? That was absurd. When you've sliced the meat, you don't drop the knife.
What happened after we missed our chance due to plague?
Didn't the barbarians get even more arrogant?
I shook my head.
"No. We can't end this war here."
"But if they don't get full combat pay, the troops' discontent will skyrocket."
"That's why I have a plan."
"Let's hear it."
Rubiot said.
"Send all legions back except the 16th. If we return the soldiers, we don't need to pay extra combat bonuses, right?"
The legion commanders pondered my words briefly.
"But can one legion wipe out two tribes? Their main force is shattered, but they're nomads. From kids to elders, anyone who can ride becomes a warrior."
"I know. A race where even women can pick up weapons if needed. But we have no choice."
They all gave bitter smiles at my words.
If the empire had the strength, if we had the economy to back the war, we wouldn't even consider this. The empire's decline forced us to worry even after victory.
"If that's the case, combine the 16th Legion with barbarian auxiliaries for at least 10,000 men. Some barbarians take pay, but others provide troops for free at our request, right?"
True enough. Some offered troops in exchange for land.
"So be it."
We ended the meeting deciding to continue the expedition with 10,000 men from legions and auxiliaries. If they weren't nomads, I'd have gone all-in regardless of grain prices.
But with their superior mobility, we had to prepare for the war dragging on longer than expected.
The next day, I sent back the other legions. The enemy was weak enough that the remaining troops had no fear of battle.
We marched through the snow-covered forest at an average of 10 kilometers a day. Stockpiling food and fodder for men and horses slowed us, but that pace was still quite fast.
After five days north, we reached a barbarian village aligned with the Sartia and Goti. The moment I got the scout's report, I drew my sword.
"No mercy for those who defy the empire. Soak the land in barbarian blood and toss their heads into the flames. Leave not a single ant pup alive—extinguish their seed."
At my command, soldiers charged the village with fierce glares.
A brutal massacre soon unfolded.
Women dragged out by soldiers resisted and fell to blades. No one raped them due to military discipline. Soldiers kicked women and children indiscriminately, slashing with swords.
Men wailed and fought back, but it was futile.
Most young men had gone to war and never returned, so the resistance was like eggs against rocks. Soldiers bashed charging men with shields to stun them, then stomped until their rage subsided.
Some soldiers went house to house, torching everything.
Homes and furnishings precious to someone turned to ash in moments.
Soldiers also dragged out pigs, cattle, and other livestock.
All usable food and supplies were plunder. Valuables from gold to animal-tooth ornaments didn't escape the soldiers' hands.
The slaughter ended in about an hour.
Soldiers hauled out the dead barbarians, skewering them on spits. Some were crucified; others hung from trees. We sent a warning to the empire's enemies through savage destruction and punishment.
Finally, soldiers salted the ruined village to make it uninhabitable forever.
After the destruction, we pressed north.
Word of our ruthless slaughter must have spread, as barbarians chose to burn their villages and flee.
But that wasn't easy. I unleashed cavalry to cut down the fugitives. Even if they evaded the horsemen, winter's frozen forest would kill off children, women, and elders.
Their future was vanishing.
Thus, cleaning up those allied with the empire's enemies, we entered the vast Sartia Great Plains.
Just a century ago, the empire didn't even know these plains existed, let alone care. Interest grew when barbarians from here invaded imperial territory.
But detailed info on this distant land was hard to come by. The empire named it the 'Sartia Great Plains' based on hearsay from barbarians.
Sartia Great Plains.
As the name suggested, the empire saw it as Sartian land.
Of course, not entirely. Sartians held the southwest; Gotis the east.
Our expedition targeted only the southern plains. No need to shed blood needlessly farther north.
We halted march before a small river the barbarians called 'Mati' and sent scouts into the plains to check Sartia and Goti movements.
About an hour later.
Our scouts returned.
"The barbarians?"
"No traces. They must have noticed us approaching and moved."
I stroked my chin.
"I didn't expect an easy sweep, but fleeing already. Still, they couldn't have herded all their livestock north that far. Summon Yusifer."
"Yes."
I called the fierce barbarian allied commander.
Once Yusifer stood before me, I commanded him, sword at my side.
"I have orders for you."
"Speak them."
"From now on, think of herding sheep. Be the shepherd dog—harass the Sartia and Goti from afar, nipping at their heels. Until we catch up. Can you do it?"
Yusifer placed a hand on his chest at my order.
"I'll do it."
"I trust you."
As he withdrew, Rikius spoke.
"Even if the auxiliaries perform well, there's one concern."
"What?"
"The Sartia Great Plains aren't just Sartia and Goti territory, right?"
"True."
"What if they pull in other barbarians?"
I chuckled.
"No need to worry. They've already used their neighbors' strength. The ones who came south to challenge us are all dead, and imperial forces appeared. Who would still think to fight us after that?"
"Your Excellency is right."
Rikius agreed.
I spoke casually to Rikius, but truthfully, I couldn't guarantee it.
Our intel reached only to the Sartia Great Plains. If deeper barbarians intervened, we'd have to rethink the war from scratch.
But that won't happen.
I dismissed the possibility.
If possible, the Sartia and Goti kings would have used that power against the empire long ago. Unless it wasn't free, of course.
As I pondered, Yusifer's cavalry charged across the frozen river.
Unlike the Drvina, the shallow, low-flow Mati was fully frozen. The horsemen crossed the ice in one go, reaching the plains opposite.
The war ends soon. Sartia and Goti perish, and the north submits to the empire. It will surely be so.
I watched the cavalry's silhouettes racing across the plains, then turned away.
(To be continued)