Traitor (3)

I led the legion in a march toward the heartland. Entering the mainland at the head of a legion after receiving the summons was tantamount to openly defying the imperial government.

While signaling my intent to rebel against the imperial government, I also dispatched an envoy to the barbarian king, Heigirt.

Fighting the empire while constantly watching my back was no way to win. In my letter, I pointed out that Velius was the one who killed Heigirt's son, making it clear I hoped he would stay out of this fight.

Of course, expecting Heigirt to side with us over the death of one son was nonsense.

If that were the case, he wouldn't have conspired with Velius at the hills to try and wipe us out. My letter was purely to give Heigirt a pretext for sitting this one out.

Without such justification, voices among the barbarians calling for revenge over their recent defeat would grow louder, risking an attack on our rear.

We advanced southward along the national highway at an average of twenty kilometers a day. It wasn't our maximum marching speed, but pushing the weary troops any harder would have been impossible.

"Velius will probably realize by tomorrow that we've clawed our way out of hell and are marching on the capital."

"If his ears aren't deaf, he will. How far do you think he's gotten?"

At my question, Cogol unrolled the map.

"With a large field army encumbered by a rabble of irregulars, they can't move faster than us. Supply issues with fodder and food will slow them too, so even at best speed, they'll be about a hundred kilometers north of the capital."

A hundred kilometers north of the capital.

I put myself in Velius's shoes. If I were him, I wouldn't march the entire field army into the capital.

Dragging raw recruits without proper discipline into the world's largest city risked looting that could undermine his rule as emperor.

And a massive army entering the city would never sit well with the Senate. Velius, who owed his throne to senatorial support and compromise, couldn't afford to upset them. So any entry would be limited in scale.

That left the question of where to station the remaining forces.

He'd pick somewhere close to the capital but positioned to respond to threats from the north.

Velius had the Senate's backing but not the loyalty of the frontier legions. Depending on the legion commanders' decisions, he'd need to prepare defenses for the imperial heartland.

"Any spots nearby with good roads and terrain favorable for defending against the north?"

"The midstream region of the Tilla River fits best."

I figured Velius would set up his defensive line there. Knowing we were coming south, it was the quickest, safest way to prepare.

But I had no intention of playing into his hands.

I planned to strike at his blind spot.

"Then we'll bypass it. We'll take ships from Barant Port and sail straight to the capital."

No point in clashing head-on with his main field army. Strike the empire's head, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠seize the Senate—that would reverse the tide in one blow. Declare the false emperor an enemy of the state and affirm our legitimacy. The frontier legions would at least stay neutral.

"Rikius!"

"Yes, sir!"

"Issue conscription orders to every port we've passed. Send every seaworthy vessel to Barant Port."

"Understood."

"Boruman, Battalion Commander."

"Yes."

"Ride ahead with the barbarian cavalry to Barant. Prepare to requisition ships and secure crews. Speed is everything here."

"Yes, sir!"

"Let's move, everyone. We're off to punish a traitor to the nation."

The officers saluted across their chests and dispersed.

I turned my horse to survey our column.

"Legion standard-bearer!"

"Yes, sir!"

"Battle march! Increase speed by one-and-a-half times!"

"Battle march!"

The standard-bearer galloped across the ranks, shouting while holding the legion standard aloft. Soon the drummers beat the signal, and the soldiers' leisurely pace quickened. I watched them a moment, then spurred my horse to the front of the column.

A few days later, envoys arrived from both Heigirt and the imperial government. Heigirt's envoy showed proper respect before conveying the king's will.

"Our king is furious to learn that Velius murdered his prince. To ease the governor's concerns about his rear, he proposes a temporary truce."

I nearly laughed. Heigirt, who knew the truth full well, wasn't fooling anyone with his "fury." It was just theater for his warriors. But it was exactly the response I needed.

"I thank the king for his generosity."

"Then we shall meet again on the battlefield."

The envoy bowed and rode off. With that, I could ignore Heigirt's threat and focus on the capital.

Unaware of the situation, the imperial central government's envoy—flanked by Praetorian Guards and brimming with arrogance—issued his command with chin held high.

Listening to the envoy, I couldn't help but chuckle.

I strode forward without ceremony, snatched the missive from his hand, dropped it to the dirt, ground it underfoot, and thrust my military boot toward him.

"That's my answer."

"We officers of the 16th Legion have an answer too."

Rikius, who'd been listening, grinned and stomped the paper once. The officers followed suit, one by one, then stepped back. The envoy's face flushed purple with rage.

The emperor's authority, the Senate's decree—trampled beneath army boots. But they'd brought it on themselves.

Betray us, stab us in the back, then demand obedience? What nonsense.

I crossed my ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠arms and faced the envoy.

"Enemy of the state, eh? If us frontier legions are enemies of the state, what does that make you lot? The capital's sewer shit?"

"H-how ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠dare you insult the Senate and His Majesty—"

"The moment you threw us to the barbarians as fodder while plotting your cushy power games, you lost any right to respect as senators of the empire.

Did you think because we endured silently like fools, loyally, that we're emotionless puppets?

We endure for love of the empire—men who know rage at betrayal. Soon you'll learn how sharp are the beak and talons of the eagle you've turned against today.

Go tell your false emperor and the Senate's rats: Send a hundred decrees; we won't waver. Who are we?!"

"We are the unyielding, unbreakable eagle of the 16th Legion!"

I nodded and fixed the envoy with a cold stare.

"Don't try to stop us with words. We've already crossed the river."

"I shall report to His Majesty the Emperor and the Senate that you are all enemies of the state."

"Do as you like."

The envoy departed swiftly with his Praetorians. Watching him go, I turned to the officers.

"The envoy means Velius and the Senate grasp the situation. If we convince them we're marching down the highway as planned, won't they fall for it?"

"But loading the legion onto ships leaves no troops to send south along the road."

"That's where we put on a show. Spread rumors we're still advancing south."

"They'll verify it."

"Of course. But the cunning ones fret over more than what their eyes confirm. They agonize over unseen threats, what they might have missed.

Even a man like Velius, who's commanded in several wars but never truly seen the crucible of battle, will dwell on our feints.

If he believes war is waged on maps and in minds, he'll waste time on our disinformation."

"Then we'll dispatch cavalry to spread the rumors. Before loading at Barant, have troops march along nearby highways to mimic an advance where feasible."

"That'll do."

I clapped the officers' shoulders. Our plan to pierce the empire's cunning foes was set.

We loaded the troops onto the assembled ships at Barant. The legion had shrunk from battles, but still over five thousand strong. Fitting thousands aboard proved short on vessels.

We embarked three thousand in haste, but two thousand—including the barbarian cavalry—had no room.

I pondered briefly, but delay helped no one.

I resolved to strike the world's greatest city with just three thousand. Mad, perhaps—but we'd staked everything on speed.

Heigirt's shaky truce might not hold; frontier legions might swear to the new emperor anytime.

Time was our enemy.

"Set sail."

I made the call. I left the remaining forces under Rubiot, tasking him with the highway feint—slightly off-plan, but fitting.

The legion's main force departed Barant Port.

At the rail, wind in my face, I contemplated failure.

If this gamble fails, the 16th Legion that trusted me will be branded traitors. Standards reclaimed, officers executed as examples, troops punished at least a tenth.

The cost was horrifying to imagine.

So we had to win.

The question is how to take the capital.

Even with few defenders, it's a metropolis of a million souls. Infuriate the citizens, and tens of thousands could flood the squares, blocking our path.

We had to neutralize the garrison without riling the populace, then enter smoothly.

Easier said than done.

And the Senate and emperor. Velius might not be there, but the Senate is. How to deal with them?

Part of me wanted to feed them to the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠fishes, but that was suicide. Senators were former high officials or nobles with vast regional sway. Slaughtering them would shatter the empire's foundation.

So kill only those who aided Velius—but touching any risks the whole Senate turning hostile. Can't kill them all, can't touch them easily. That's why they were trouble.

And finally:

Declaring Velius an enemy meant naming his replacement. Simply crowning myself seemed easy, but foolish.

A mere frontier governor seizing the throne with a legion would inspire every soldier to dream the same.

That would destroy the empire with my own hands.

No, I couldn't take the throne.

We needed someone the frontier legions would accept, yet favorable to us.

Who fit?

Ah.

One candidate came to mind.

Marius, the consul I'd fought beside.

Consular experience, noble blood, sitting senator. With the right show, he'd slide into emperor without fuss.

The issue: Did he still favor me? No certainty—he was Senate too. But as Baccus's loyalist, he'd resent Velius.

I'd bet on that and elevate Marius.

Lost in such thoughts, our fleet raced south on favorable winds, toward our target: the capital of the world.

(To be continued)