Entry into the Capital (1)
“We submit to the order of the Empire. Please, by His Imperial Majesty's grace, allow us to cling to a small patch of land and survive.”
I gazed down coldly at the barbarian chieftains kneeling before us. They'd seen us crush several tribes by force and had quickly come to negotiate. True to their survival-of-the-fittest world, they had sharp instincts.
I crossed my arms as I looked them over.
“The Empire...”
My single word made the chieftains swallow hard.
“...is magnanimous.”
Their faces brightened a little at that.
“But we show no mercy to those who cross our borders. Let me ask you this: Is the Empire's frontier something you can trample over like mud? Do you squat on someone else's land and then beg the owner for permission to stay?”
Their expressions darkened again.
“We neither fear nor dread you. If you refuse to yield land, even if you declare war, we won't blink. Don't demand territory from the Empire's eagles. We are the guardians of the border, not givers to barbarians. I have one thing to say.”
I pointed across the Drvina River.
“That's where you belong. This is our land. That is yours. Stay within the borders if you wish. Then I'll make examples of you all.”
I gestured to the poles displaying the heads of the chieftains I'd beheaded the day before. They gulped dryly. I was berating them calmly, but it was all rehearsed theater.
Before summoning all these barbarian tribes, I'd already swayed two relatively docile ones to my side.
Besides Usiper and Jeshuter, I'd pulled in two more chieftains. It worked because I'd proven my strength, boosting my 'bargaining power.'
If push came to shove, I could drive them all out—but I could spare you. That's the leverage that makes them bow willingly.
I sent the chieftains away.
With the legion arrayed in full formation, flaunting our might, they couldn't entertain any second thoughts.
I called Usiper, Jeshuter, and the two swayed chieftains to monitor their tribes' river crossings. Our infantry-heavy legion couldn't chase and watch them individually.
Three days later, the barbarians heeded my warning, leading their tribes across the river and withdrawing beyond the border.
They'd already lost their own lands and been pushed out, so returning offered no future.
The chieftains knew it too, so they planted themselves on the north bank of the Drvina.
By squatting there, they'd force us to stay vigilant, scheming to extract some concession.
Still, ordering them to clear out even from the riverbank felt excessive. The far side wasn't Empire territory—it was barbarian lands.
In the end, I appointed Rikius as envoy and sent him to them. They'd nominally accepted our warning and withdrawn from the border, so easing up a bit wasn't a bad move.
I presented three conditions to the barbarians.
First: They'd have the right to send individual soldiers to the barbarian auxiliary units I formed. But if a tribe was caught illegally crossing the border, all its soldiers would be expelled from the legion.
Second: I'd open markets at the border for them to trade food and supplies. Any troublemakers' tribes would be held accountable.
Third: Limited permission for Empire provincials' marriages or auxiliary soldiers' families to reside within imperial lands. They'd be allowed to clear and use land for living. But any issues meant immediate deportation.
My terms were far milder than the expulsion order.
There was a reason, of course.
When they ignored imperial law and order, only the whip. But respect our principles, and get the carrot. Implanting that mindset would reduce border incursions' frequency and intensity—that was my goal.
If we had ample military and economic power, no need for this. But our strength was steadily waning. So, carrots after the whip to prevent constant clashes.
That was my duty as the governor responsible for the Empire's frontier.
Rikius soon returned with his report.
“The barbarians accepted Your Excellency's terms without objection.”
“Their futures look bleak right now, so of course. This settles the border for the moment.”
I said that, but I doubted the barbarian problem would ever fully resolve.
Until their barren lands turned fertile, they'd keep eyeing our borders.
And now, the silent monster Heigirt. Nameless wild tribes in the Black Forest. Thinking of them, I couldn't relax even with this brief peace.
I thanked Rikius for his efforts, then spurred my horse to the front of the legion's ranks. As officers bowed in turn, I drew my sword and shouted to the troops.
“The barbarians have all withdrawn! Today, we proudly tell the Empire: The golden eagle triumphs! Long live Emperor Baccus!”
“Long live Emperor Baccus!”
“Huzzah!”
The soldiers roared their victory cry.
I clenched my fist tight, listening to them.
Our sector's barbarian issue wrapped up quicker than expected, but neighboring legions weren't so lucky. More barbarians had crossed than anticipated, and their borders were longer than ours.
After some thought, I decided to detach two battalions under Battalion Commanders Bofiadus and Boruman as reinforcements.
A typical legion commander focused only on his sector, but as military governor, my responsibility was broader. If borders broke, I had to defend the rear provinces too.
I summoned the two commanders immediately. They entered my quarters looking a bit dazed at the rare summons from the governor. They saluted crisply; I smiled and said,
“No need for formalities. I called you before informing Acting Legion Commander Rubiot, to brief you directly.”
“Understood. Speak, Excellency.”
“Word is, the 24th and 27th Legions are still troubled, and it weighs on me. New legions are forming to replace those wiped out on the home front, but it'll take at least a year for them to reach the border.”
The commanders nodded silently.
Forming new legions wasn't just about money—it was gathering men, which took time.
Especially now, with citizens shunning war. The new units would likely fill with war prisoners, gladiators, slaves, and bandits.
And even that might not happen on schedule, so stabilizing neighbors was key. It gave us allies to call on in need.
The commanders agreed on the need. The issue was our own sector's gap. Boruman spoke up after hearing me out.
“But Excellency, detaching two of our six battalions leaves four. Can they hold the barbarians?”
He meant we'd be running on fumes.
I gave a wry smile.
“No guarantees. But our eastern brothers struggle. If eagles don't aid eagles, who will?
The citizens and government care little for the frontier. Only comrades help us. Hard or not, we must aid them.”
“Excellency, why not send barbarian auxiliaries instead?”
“Too risky. Men like Usiper and Jeshuter bow because they see my strength. Trust isn't built yet.
Send them, and if they link up with other barbarians? We'd be powerless to stop it.”
I laid out the situation coldly. Here, they're traitors shunned by their kin—but elsewhere, that's not true. Optimism without caution is irresponsible.
As frontier governor, I had to tread carefully.
“Then send Quartermaster Riti in my place. I must stay by your side.”
Boruman pressed firmly.
“The men trust you more.”
“I want to stay. I can't rest easy without guarding you.”
“I'll consider it.”
I dismissed the commanders.
While support prep proceeded, the barbarians stayed quiet. To demonstrate border security, I led one battalion and barbarian cavalry on a patrol along the line.
Near the border lived provincials trading with barbarians or settling for low taxes.
But recent laxity had let barbarians rampage, leaving devastation like the military-emperor era, when legions abandoned frontiers for throne wars.
I toured, consoling survivors and vowing to rebuild defenses into an impenetrable wall barbarians wouldn't dare cross.
But their eyes held no faith. Even the best legion had limits, they thought.
I understood.
That's why I needed to give them belief quickly.
If the frontier became unlivable in their minds, they'd abandon farms and homes.
That would empty the border, isolate the legion like an island. Defending would lose meaning; we'd retreat.
Repeated retreats would shrink the Empire's borders, exposing rich heartlands to barbarians.
Not on my watch.
During the patrol, passing a ruined village, I eyed a small boat fishing the river. Boats. Boats.
I paused, then called Rubiot.
“When you were posted northwest, you saw boatmen, right?”
“Something like that.”
“Cut the honorifics—just say it.”
“There was a naval base two days from our legion post, running river convoys. Why?”
“We need boats here. Outposts and border forts can't fully monitor river crossings. We need early detection.”
“But the Drvina fleets were scrapped fifty years ago. How now?”
“It's not impossible. Locals fish for a living, like those.”
The boatman I pointed to was a barbarian. Unable to farm, he caught arm-thick fish—common on the frontier.
“You don't mean using them?”
I grinned at Rubiot.
“Exactly. That's my plan.”
“Gods, Ain. Too dangerous. One prank, and we're blindside-pummeled.”
“I know. But locals need visible change now. Fleets on the river, troops at outposts and forts—that builds faith. Without change, why endure here? I want to give them stability.”
“Even so, caution?”
“Change is always risky. We're already precarious. Fail to stabilize, borders retreat, eagles withdraw. Want that?”
“Of course not.”
“Then follow me. Not as governor—as a friend.”
Rubiot met my eyes, pondered, then nodded slowly.
“If that's your call, we follow. We're a legion that trusts only you.”
“Thanks.”
I clapped his shoulder and gazed at the Drvina. If its proud flow became our bulwark.
I faced the river wind with that hope.
(To be continued)