Etna Volcano (2)
The eruption of Etna Volcano!
The shock was truly immense. By the time we had barely managed to prepare emergency relief measures, word spread that the area around Etna had been reduced to ashes. Grain prices skyrocketed immediately, and the people's discontent grew fierce.
Once things reached this point, even the senators leisurely vacationing in the provinces hurried back to the capital.
I requested that the Senate declare a national emergency. They convened a meeting and approved my request.
But before I could lift a finger, ominous rumors came from the south of the empire.
'It's all because the emperor is incompetent!'
The moment I heard that rumor, a chill ran down my spine.
Unlike barbarians, imperial citizens valued reason and philosophy, but on the other hand, they were a people who believed in myths and legends.
To them, natural disasters were interpreted as divine warnings rebuking the incompetence of the emperor—the supreme ruler and high priest.
Of course, when the emperor's rule was solid, such rumors held little sway. But Alexius was not a strong emperor. He was a weak, young monarch propped up by the power of his Praetorian Prefect—me.
So it was only natural that rumors questioning the emperor's qualities would gain traction.
'I need to act before the rumors spread further. His Majesty's position has already narrowed considerably from the volcano alone. If rebellion breaks out too, the central government's authority will suffer a fatal blow.'
I scraped together what little funds we had and issued special bonuses to the soldiers.
To keep the legionaries steady, I had Alexius's face engraved on the obverse of the coins, and on the reverse, the words "Loyalty and Obedience."
I also hurried the relief efforts. Sacks of wheat were rushed to the affected areas.
This made the empire's finances, which had just barely caught a breath, scream in agony. To prevent the central government's bankruptcy, I halted the recruitment for the legion reorganization I had been rushing.
Restoring the legions' strength was essential to fight external enemies, but if the empire's finances collapsed today, the legions would be useless.
Worse, unpaid legions would become the knife that killed the empire.
I felt the "tomorrow" I had glimpsed from my northern victories slipping farther away, but there was no helping it.
Yet no matter how I struggled, suppressing the aftermath of the volcanic eruption was impossible.
Soon after, I received ill news from the east and crumpled the letter in my fist.
"Rebellion?"
"Yes."
The messenger said gravely.
"The reason?"
When I asked, the messenger gave a wry smile.
"No one thought rebellion would erupt even as the governor cracked down on rumors and held games to soothe the populace. But during the gladiatorial games, gray rain fell from the sky."
"Gray rain?"
"Yes. Seeing it, a gladiator shouted that the gods had abandoned the empire."
Thud.
The gods had abandoned the empire? If unprecedented gray rain fell, it was natural for the citizens to be shaken.
Had the gods truly forsaken the empire? My vision darkened. Hiding my agitation, I asked,
"Who are the ringleaders?"
"The gladiators. People shouted agreement with their cries and joined them. The governor tried to stop them, but holding back the mob was impossible."
I closed my eyes.
Rebellion.
It was expected. Even without the gray rain, rebellion had always loomed. Soaring grain prices, rumors against the emperor, taxes raised for legion reorganization. The accumulated grievances exploded with the gray rain as the trigger. That was the right way to see it.
"What's the size of the rebels?"
"It hadn't exceeded ten thousand when the governor sent me. However, considering the state mines and olive plantations in Graike province, the rebels could swell beyond imagination."
"I see."
I was more worried about the state mines and olive plantations grinding to a halt than the rebels' numbers. If they did, the empire's finances would deteriorate further. We might even have to reduce troop numbers, let alone expand legions.
I dismissed the messenger and sank into thought.
'In this chaotic time, can I leave the capital to suppress the rebellion?'
I shook my head.
My absence—the embodiment of the emperor's might—could stir unnecessary chaos in the capital. I had to hold this position. But who could go to Graike in my stead and end it swiftly?
The border legion commanders?
Out of the question.
Calling them in would immediately jeopardize legion control. With loyalty already shaky, frontline commanders had to stay put. And there wasn't time to summon and entrust them anyway.
Then.
I thought of the Atillca legion commander.
He might do.
The Atillca legion commander was General Gratianus, who had risen from provincial governor to legion commander for his merits in the first Goti War.
It might sound odd to say he advanced from governor to legion commander, but legions stationed in the homeland were seen as higher status due to political influence, even if not formally so.
'With Gratianus, the Atillca legion, and some Praetorian Guards added.'
That would be enough to crush a ragtag rebel force of inexperienced rabble. With a battle-hardened commander and legion, victory was a given.
The moment I decided he was the optimal choice, I summoned Rikius.
"You called, sir?"
"We need to send a courier immediately. Dispatch a messenger to General Gratianus. Tell him I'll entrust him with suppressing the Graike rebellion."
"A rebellion? My god."
"Hurry."
"Yes, sir."
After sending Rikius, I added one more measure. Granting strong forces and authority to a homeland commander required oversight. The Praetorians' number two could reliably monitor Gratianus.
With that, I handled one ripple from the volcanic eruption.
But Etna's damage to the empire didn't end there.
Bang!
My fist slammed down on the armrest.
"What nonsense is this?!"
I shouted in disbelief, unlike my usual self. The bureaucrat bowed his head.
"I-it's true, sir."
I gritted my teeth.
'Wheat transport ships sunk.'
This was salt in the wound.
With grain prices already soaring and the capital screaming, news of wheat-laden ships sinking would turn grain to gold.
For a moment, I felt the empire crumbling like a sandcastle.
I forcibly calmed myself and asked the bureaucrat,
"Why did the wheat transports sink?"
"Volcanic ash from Etna blanketed the lighthouse beacons. Ships entered reef zones without fog guidance."
'Damn volcano.'
I realized the southern Egypt province hadn't yet heard of the eruption.
Ships coming up unaware wouldn't know the lighthouses were out in the fog.
"What's the capital's grain warehouse status?"
"Including recent confiscations, we have a month's supply."
"Can we procure more in that time?"
"With naval vessels, yes."
The bureaucrat answered knowing I wouldn't adopt it.
Naturally. Conscripting navy ships would cripple inner sea security.
With pirates rampant, halting minimal policing would collapse the economy.
I rubbed my face with both hands.
'This is bad. Without grain, relieving the poor is impossible. Riots will erupt in the capital.'
The emperor's already shaken position could collapse entirely.
Sweat beaded on my palms.
But no sharp solution came.
If there was one.
'Make the Senate cough up more.'
But they had no reason to.
And if I tried squeezing them, they'd resist to the death.
Senators' provincial governors, generals, knights—rebelling against me. The empire would fracture and head to ruin.
I couldn't split the empire with my own hands, could I?
After agonizing, I decided to gamble.
At sunset, I met Senate leader Senator Crusio with only a few guards.
He looked noticeably surprised at my arrival.
"Praetorian Prefect, what brings you here this late?"
"I have urgent business with you, Senator."
Crusio stroked his beard after hearing me.
"About state affairs?"
"Yes."
He waved away the servants. I sent out my guards. Once alone, he offered a seat.
"It's rare to offer a chair to a guest who drops in late. Sit."
"Thank you. My apologies for the rudeness."
I bowed to Crusio properly, then sat.
Crusio uncorked the wine a servant had brought.
"A glass before we talk?"
"No."
I smiled bitterly.
I couldn't chat lightly over drinks here. I was gambling the empire's fate this instant.
No room for wine when sober talk was barely enough.
He shrugged at my refusal and set down the wine.
"Fine. What does the general wish to discuss?"
I clasped my hands, speaking calmly.
"I want to make a deal with the Senate."
"A deal? The general dealing with us. Sounds novel."
Crusio chuckled.
I'd ignored and dominated the Senate till now. Necessary to protect the empire from sly old foxes, but offensive to them.
His brief retort held that sentiment.
"I'll cede power to the Senate."
I laid out my prepared words.
Crusio's eyes widened slightly, but that was it. Seasoned politicians restrain emotions.
"Cede power. What do you mean?"
He asked obliquely.
Ceding power meant renouncing force. He knew, but wanted confirmation from me.
"I'll petition His Majesty to grant the Senate regency over the empire."
"Regency to our Senate."
In the early empire, the Senate held greater power.
They could select heirs in imperial vacancies and manage state affairs for inexperienced new emperors.
De facto regency—untasted since the soldier-emperor era.
"Such a sudden proposal from you feels off."
Crusio eyed me, suspecting a ploy to test resignation. I smiled wryly.
"No tricks. I seek the Senate's aid for the empire."
I chose frontal assault, soldier-style.
The near-supreme powerholder offering regency was the Senate's golden chance.
But I'd said "deal" first. They had to offer something equal to supreme power.
Crusio asked,
"You mentioned a deal. What do you want in exchange for regency?"
"Gold and wheat to resolve this crisis."
"Our wealth."
His blue eyes fixed on me.
"Yes."
I met his gaze head-on.
Crusio leaned back.
He stroked his beard, then said,
"Giving us regency means clashes with you. Who guarantees our safety then?"
"I'll pull the Praetorians from the capital outskirts."
I chose to shrink my own influence.
I was the emperor's pillar, but without gold and wheat, I couldn't save the empire. Better I withdraw than fail to protect him.
Without Praetorians, senators' private guards become the "nearest blade" in the capital. Crusio was satisfied.
"Good. Guarantee two more things, and I'll persuade my colleagues."
"Name them."
"First, hand Senator Constantinus's punishment to us."
Saving Senate face.
But that meant dropping investigations into senators.
No choice but to yield.
I nodded.
"Second, help us marry Princess Euresia to whom we desire."
The princess's marriage.
I wanted Euresia out of court too.
But tying her to Senate nobility could make her more troublesome.
Should I risk it?
I hesitated briefly.
But duty outweighed risk.
I was a soldier serving the empire, an eagle obedient to order. Ready to risk for the empire built on comrades' blood and sweat.
"Understood."
At my answer, Crusio poured wine and offered the glass.
I drained it in one gulp.
For some reason, the aftertaste was bitter, not sweet.