Those Who Desire Freedom (2)
Briton's history was more complicated than I'd expected. Even after the empire's two conquest wars, rebellions had flared up frequently in the province.
The most infamous was the "Talys Covenant," forged by some seventy tribes banding together. Those who joined the covenant resisted until they were annihilated by the imperial legions, with over eighty thousand slaughtered.
Over the following centuries, under the empire's mix of coaxing and coercion, the locals gradually assimilated, and Briton quieted down. But no one had forgotten the Talys Covenant.
To quell that lingering sentiment, the provincial authorities held annual oaths of loyalty to the empire and gladiatorial games, or so I was told.
I skimmed through the materials on Briton's governance and sank into thought. What if Garin was one of those who wanted independence for Briton?
I couldn't imagine living outside the empire's world, nor did I want to—but for a Briton who saw no future within it, things might be different. Dreaming of their own nation, their own world.
If that's truly what they desire, it's dangerous.
I wasn't an expert on Briton's history, but I understood its strategic value well enough.
The province served as the primary bulwark, blocking most seaborne invaders from reaching imperial territory.
Losing it would expose the empire's rich heartlands to assaults from the sea.
And then there was this: Heigirt in the northeast and Briton in the northwest, both eyeing Libitus province. That was no favorable defensive posture.
I put myself in Garin's shoes.
If I wanted Briton's independence, I'd hope the imperial legions and the barbarians bled each other dry, weakening both sides fatally.
Only then could the victor be deterred from eyeing Briton. As continental fighting intensified, Briton's legions would withdraw, creating favorable conditions for independence all around.
Explaining his aid to Heigirt would resolve most suspicions. Annihilating us was necessary for Heigirt's forces to march on the capital, drawing legions from every province in haste.
In that scenario, Briton could prepare its own world while the barbarians and empire staked their survival on the fight.
But that plan had shattered.
Because of me. Because of Ain.
By striking the barbarians' rear and dealing them a crippling blow, I'd forced Heigirt to retreat from the imperial heartland despite his rampage. The empire paid dearly, but not enough to force Briton's legions to withdraw.
If I'd been Garin, fleeing to Briton to prepare for independence, I'd have seen the board turn like this and known I had to act again.
Pit Heigirt against us!
That was his only play. The barbarian king lurking in Belanga couldn't sit idle if Briton's independence was to be more than a dream. Garin had aimed for Belanga, then brazenly appeared in east Libitus to make us think Heigirt was plotting something.
I had a rough sense of Garin's inner motives now.
And with it, I understood his reason for betrayal. Not mere coin, honor, or promotion—but freedom for his kin. If that grand cause drove him, I could comprehend it.
Comprehend, but not forgive.
I closed the book.
"Rikius!"
"Yes, sir."
"Send someone to east Libitus. As soon as the investigation wraps, secure Garin's custody."
"Was Centurion Garin in east Libitus?"
"He was."
"Understood."
Rikius's fist clenched with a sharp crack. A traitor who'd abandoned his comrades—his reaction was only natural.
But.
Rather than rage at Garin, I felt a bitter pang. Like Cassius, torn by irreconcilable values in the past, Garin must have faced a hard choice. Knowing that weight made it hard to simply brand him a traitor.
Still, I couldn't let him live.
For the empire, I was the executor who could turn ruthless at any moment—its blade. If the empire willed it, I'd slaughter not just Garin, but his family.
I quietly closed my eyes.
A rebellion in Briton?
I was handling administrative duties when the sudden trumpet blast rang out. I stepped from the office to greet the emperor's envoy with proper courtesy. He was an ordinary soldier.
Soldiers were dispatched to governors only for urgent messages, riding relays without rest. His disheveled state told me grave news awaited.
"Bellgorod Governor Ain receives His Majesty's command."
The envoy approached and handed over the letter.
I read it standing there.
Briton hadn't seen a large-scale rebellion since its full conquest—and those were confined to the first few decades. Nothing since. A major uprising now?
I couldn't shake the thought that Garin's allies had risen en masse. The timing matched his capture almost perfectly.
They'd banked on us clashing with Heigirt for sure.
But that underestimates us pathetically.
I folded the letter.
"His Majesty orders me to deploy to Briton—did he mention anything else?"
"His Majesty also requested deployment from Belanga commander Heigirt."
Just as I figured.
I gave a wry smile. Heigirt was our "enemy," but officially still an imperial army commander.
The emperor requesting his forces was feasible.
If I led an army from the continent to Briton, he had to move too. The emperor's calculus was sound—assuming Heigirt obeyed.
Still, me leading the suppression was unexpected.
Briton garrisoned three legions; they shouldn't need reinforcements unless things were dire.
Or those three legions were mere shells.
Given the empire's realities, that could be it. If the legions weren't pulling their weight, I was the right man for the job.
I handed the letter to Rikius and addressed the envoy.
"Report to His Majesty: Bellgorod Governor Ain will lead his army to Briton within a fortnight."
"Yes, sir."
The envoy bowed and mounted up. Another day and night of relentless riding to relay my response. I pitied him, but now wasn't the time.
Deploying to Briton posed unique challenges unlike a mainland campaign.
First, I had no intel on the rebels' numbers. The emperor had only the governors' plea; lack of details was inevitable.
Even precise figures would change by the time they reached me via the emperor.
Look at Heigirt yesterday—tens of thousands more in hours.
No reason rebels couldn't swell similarly.
Either way, speed is essential.
These fires demanded swift stamping, lest they spread.
And Heigirt might get ideas.
I ordered Rubiot to muster two thousand legionaries for suppression and two thousand barbarian auxiliaries.
Twice the force from the Praetorian purge, mainly because Briton was an island. Reinforcements would be slow if trouble hit, so better to bring ample strength upfront.
Plus, parading might before Heigirt was key, whether he joined or not. Our army marching past his nose demanded a show of maximum power.
To deter any funny thoughts.
With that in mind, I formed the expeditionary force.
Commanders: barbarian chieftains Yusifer and Jeshuter, plus key 16th Legion officers Cogol and Rikius, and thirty more. But pulling this strength at once left vulnerabilities.
So before marching, I summoned the north bank chieftains for a feast laced with veiled threats. Any mischief, and I'd raze their villages on return.
They took my warning seriously—I'd done it before, and would again.
With barbarians warned, I departed Bellgorod.
The march was swift. I'd sent couriers ahead to stock bread in every roadside city and prepare ships.
It cost coin, not freebies—but legion mobility demanded it.
We covered over thirty kilometers daily on imperial roads, resting with local bread and wine.
Some grumbled at the grueling pace, but when I dismounted and marched ahead on foot, complaints vanished.
I ensured stragglers rode, preserving full strength to the strait.
Arriving in Rance, east Libitus's hub, the legion remained intact. In forced marches, strength usually plummets—that ours hadn't marked success.
In Rance, I let troops rest and met Governor Lavirando.
Passing through, seeing traitor Centurion Garin one last time seemed fitting. The governor gladly arranged it.
Garin.
Traitor who'd forsaken the eagle. Dreamer of Briton's freedom.
What to say to him?
Trailing the guard through the dank dungeons—dripping water, scurrying rats—I pondered. At the end, his cell. The guard kicked the bars.
"Hey. Out."
A figure stirred from the shadows, shuffling to the bars.
"Meal time already?"
"Meal? Someone wants to see you."
The guard snapped coldly, then bowed to me.
Hands clasped behind, I approached the bars.
"Ain."
Spotting me, Garin murmured my name and shut his eyes. His ordeal showed: face swollen double, body bruised blue-black. They'd spared true torture only to hand a live prisoner to the 16th.
I gave a wry smile.
"Centurion Garin. How did we end up like this?"
"Our paths diverged, that's all."
His tone was calm.
"No regrets for your legion brothers?"
"Impossible not to. Since leaving Sian, nightmares plague me nightly. Screaming comrades' faces haunt my dreams.
They cursed and condemned me. Rightly so—a betrayer deserving punishment. But given the choice again, I'd choose the same."
"For Briton's independence?"
Mentioning Briton snapped his eyes open.
"You pieced it together. Sharp as ever. Then the empire-Heigirt clash was no accident."
"Of course. We're no fools."
"True. We were the fools."
"Why start a hopeless cause? Betraying brothers like kin."
Garin shook his head.
"You couldn't understand. What it means to be born Briton. We're 'imperial,' yet not truly.
Just a frontier buffer, secured to shield the empire. Know what a futureless life there is? Despair.
No choice but legion service. That's centuries for us. Empire's golden age or decline—we got neither care nor scraps.
Better forge our own nation. Give hope to our children. Wrong thinking?"
"Not wrong. I grasp your stance well. But I'm the eagle. You're the ex-eagle traitor. Need I understand more?"
Garin wryly smiled.
"Fair enough. That's all you need."
"Days from now, I'll go to your homeland and slaughter your kin. This the tomorrow you wanted?"
"No. Your existence ruined it. That man Ain in the 16th Legion.
Mock us if you wish. But don't scorn my people. Crushed centuries by empire, yet unbroken."
"I've never underestimated foes, Garin. Last request? I'll grant if feasible."
"Then one: Spare Briton's children and women. They're imperial subjects before barbarians."
"If possible. As a guideline."
I broke eye contact.
This haggard old rebel no longer concerned me.
Just cargo for a roadside cross on the way back.
"Guard. I'm done."
He hurried over.
Garin spoke then.
"Ain. As one who bore the eagle: Is the empire worth loyalty?"
I replied coldly.
"An eagle needs no doubts. Let's go."
I led the guard from the dungeon.
(To be continued)