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Authors: Geoff Fabron

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Sextus wanted to discuss the matter
further but Flaccus pushed for a vote. With only Sextus abstaining, it was
agreed to accept 'volunteers' from other nations and to hire mercenaries.

Sextus still had his doubts as he left
the meeting. He could not throw off the feeling that the council was a puppet
and that somebody else was pulling the strings.

 

Later that day, Quintus Flaccus met a
representative of the Caledonian government to pass on the official request for
volunteers and mercenaries. The Caledonian official congratulated the council
leader for persuading his colleagues to accept help.

"It was easy to get them to agree
when they had no choice," replied Flaccus. “Our own auxiliaries are too
weak to hold off the legions for much longer. It's either help from outside or
a bullet in the back of the head from the peregrini."

"And once the imperials have
gone," said the Caledonian, our troops will be available to ensure a
speedy return of law and order - within a new Britannia/Caledonian
federation." He picked up a pair of glasses and gave one to Flaccus. He
raised his glass in salute to the council leader.

"Here's to the 'independent'
province of Britannia", he said, "and to Quintus Flaccus, its first
leader and one of Caledonia's most loyal friends!"

 

 

16th
July 1920

Minden,
Saxony

 

Katherine had to get away from Minden.
The crisis over the trade laws and the growing animosity towards the Empire
made the atmosphere at the university very tense. Some of those who knew about
her friendship with Cornelius had started to shun her. Others had quietly
suggested that it would be the 'patriotic thing' to do to break off the
relationship.

Her response had made it very clear
that it was up to her who she associated with, and just because Cornelius was a
Roman, it did not make him an enemy of either her or Saxony.

She decided to travel down to the
hunting lodge for a quiet weekend. The lodge had been a place of refuge for
Katharine and her mother when father had lapsed into one of his really dark
moods. Later, after Frederick had become Count they would come down here
together when he was using the family home to host meetings or entertain guests
on behalf of the government. She had hoped that Cornelius would be able to come
with her, but since the outbreak of fighting in Britannia all Roman diplomatic
personnel, with the exception of the ambassador, had been restricted to within
a five mile radius of the embassy.

Katherine arrived on Saturday
afternoon. As she turned into the grounds she noticed a number of military
motor carriages parked in the garage. She learnt from the housekeeper that her
younger brother Franz and a number of his friends from the staff school had
been staying there all week. The housekeeper, who had been with the family for
as long as Katherine could remember, discretely mentioned that Edwin was one of
her brothers’ guests.

Katherine headed straight up to her
room, and asked the housekeeper not to tell her brother that she was here. She
had come here to get away from the tension and the hatred in Minden. She was neither
looking for a bitter argument with Franz nor to open old wounds with Edwin.

She unpacked the few things that she
had brought with her - some clothes, a couple of books and the research paper
she was currently working on - and then sat by the window. She often used to do
this when she was younger, just sit on the window sill and stare out at the
hills and the dense forest surrounding the lodge. It was peaceful yet slightly
frightening in a primeval way, bringing to mind stories of goblins, witches and
trolls that had frightened her as a child.

This time she thought back to the
weekend that she had spent here with Cornelius, just before all the trouble had
started. It had almost been perfect and may well have been except for her
confrontation with Franz in the evening. She clenched her fists at the thought
of it; her younger brother really knew how to get under her skin!  Then she
remembered sitting in front of the fire with Cornelius, talking and then
kissing with the expectation of more. A part of her was secretly glad that
Franz had interrupted them when he did. After her affair with Edwin and the
pain that had followed, she was scared of getting involved again. Yet it felt
so right with Cornelius she thought angrily, and now because of this crisis over
trade she might lose him. She really wished he was here now, holding her. 

As she sat on the sill, her knees
tucked under her chin, staring out at the rich green landscape she heard some
voices. Faintly but quite distinctly she could make out a number of men's
voices and with a start she recognised one of them as Edwin's. For a moment she
thought that she was beginning to lose her mind but then she realised that the
sound was coming from the open fireplace. She got off the window sill and went
over to the large chimney on one side of her bedroom. She bent down and as she
put her head into the empty grate the voices became quite clear. Katherine
remembered that she was directly above the study and realised that the chimney
was acting as a conduit for sounds from the room below.

 

The air in the study was stale with the
smell of tobacco smoke and beer, but Franz and the others were so used to it
that they barely noticed. A map of the Rhine frontier lay on one of the large
tables brought in from the dining room and it was covered with small wooden
blocks marking the positions of Saxon and imperial forces.

The door opened and another officer
came in, a piece of paper in one hand and a pipe in the other. "The latest
news from Britannia," he announced loudly as he marched over to Franz,
"the Caledonian 'volunteers'," (there was a round of laughter at
that), "have surrounded the Roman bases at Deva and Petuaria. The rebels
are moving against the imperial troops further south!"

"Excellent!" exclaimed Franz,
"we can expect to see more troops withdrawn from the Rhine and sent across
to Britannia."

"When will we strike, Franz?"
Katherine recognised Edwin's voice.

"Once they're fully committed
against the rebels and their 'allies', we'll issue the order for Sea Lance.
Then we'll cross the Rhine and within a month the Roman army in the west will
be either destroyed or marooned on Britannia!"

Franz felt a flush of exhilaration.
Soon, he thought, Saxony would be in a position to dictate terms to
Constantinople.

"What about the rest of the
Empire's forces?" asked another voice.

"We've already been though
that!" snapped Franz, irritated that his feeling of euphoria had been
interrupted, "the foreign ministry has been working with the Arabs and the
Turks. They'll mobilise and force the Romans to keep their legions in the east
and along the Danube in place."

"And if they don't?" the
voice persisted, "I don't like the idea of depending on others when so
much is at stake, especially the Turks. Don't forget that we also share a
border with them."

Katherine could make out murmurs of
agreement from a few other officers. Not surprising she thought, the brutality
of the Turkish wars of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries had never been
forgotten.

"They'll support us against the
Empire," said Franz confidently. "The new trade laws affect them as
much as us. Besides," his voice changed to a sneer, "do you really
think the infidels will miss an opportunity to see Constantinople squirm."
Another ripple of laughter spread around the room and no more questions came
from the doubting officer.

"Right then, no need to worry
about the eastern legions, they'll have their hands full. We must worry about
our attack. Surprise is the key! If they're ready for us, we won't be able to destroy
their remaining forces quickly enough to obtain our objectives."

There was a pause and then Franz spoke
again. "If the plan is compromised," he spoke slowly, emphasising
each word, "then we'll have to call the attack off. General Godisger will
not send another generation of Saxons to occupy unmarked graves on the other
side of the Rhine."

 

Katherine sat back from the fireplace,
she had heard enough.

 

 

17th
July 1920

Roman
Embassy, Minden

 

He looks as though he has not slept for
a week, thought Cornelius as the ambassador showed him into his office. He
looked downhearted and tired, but it was more to do with his lack of success
than with the long hours he had spent travelling around the country. As they
sat down, Isaac Taronites confided to Cornelius that the situation was not
looking good.

"People I've known for a long
time," began Taronites, "some of them good friends, are refusing to
see me. Those that do believe that if the trade issue is not resolved there
will be another war."

"The press and radio have been
increasing their attacks on the Empire," added Cornelius. "Some of
them are actively recommending that Saxony recognise Britannia as an
independent state."

"And that's another problem!"
said Taronites in exasperation, "I've formally complained to the Saxon
government about the presence of Saxon 'volunteers' in Britannia. All the
Foreign Minister does is shrug his shoulders and say 'Saxon citizens may go
where they please'."

"And how does he explain the Saxon
weapons that have found their way across the sea?" asked Cornelius.

"According to the Minister Saxon
army equipment is available to any who wish to purchase it," said
Taronites dryly, "I wonder how the rebels are paying for it - assuming
they are of course."

"I suspect that anyone taking a
shot at the Empire will get a line of credit from the Saxon government at the
moment," commented Cornelius.

"You're probably right,"
agreed the ambassador. "It's the developments in Britannia that I actually
wanted to see you about. What information do you have from your sources?"

"Not a great deal," said
Cornelius as he pulled some pages out of his folder, "but it does explain
some of the discrepancies that I couldn't account for earlier."

"What do you mean," asked
Taronites suddenly alert. "Are the Saxons committing regular army
units?"

"No ambassador, a few units of
aircraft, landships and artillery seemed to disappear but their personnel
turned up elsewhere. It appears that the Saxon government 'sold' their
equipment to the rebels."

"Along with some 'mercenaries' to
operate it no doubt!"

"I wouldn't be at all surprised to
learn that some of these mercenaries are still drawing their salary from the
Saxon army paymaster," concurred Cornelius.

"What else do you have?"

"The Rhine army is sending more
troops to Britannia to counter the arrival of the volunteers and
mercenaries."

"So it looks like the next
Roman-Saxon war is being fought in Britannia," commented the ambassador
wryly.

Cornelius said nothing. In a way he
hoped that the ambassador was right, but the thought of the destruction being
suffered by the people of Britannia made him feel guilty and he feared for his
brother.

 

 

17th
July 1920

Saxony

 

Landship driver (1
st
Class)
Klaus Alaric’s feet were throbbing. He hadn’t undertaken a full route march
since basic training several years before. Hell, it was because of that
experience that he had volunteered to join a Landship regiment. At least then
he could ride everywhere instead of walking!

Then, a week ago, they were ordered to
deliver their vehicles to the docks at Bremen for shipment to Britannia – their
landships had been designated obsolete and ‘surplus to requirements’.
Apparently the rebel government of Britannia had offered to take them off our
hands! Likely story thought Klaus and the rest of his crew during the train
journey back to their base in the centre of Saxony, but they all assumed that
some shiny new machines would be waiting for them. However on arrival back at
the base, they were paraded before the Colonel who informed them they were
going on a series of route marches to the west. Some sort of army exercise.

And so for the past five days they had
marched across Saxony, avoiding all towns and villages. At the end of each day
they found a tented encampment waiting for them camouflaged in some wood,
complete with changes of clothes and hot meals. At least all they had to carry
was their combat kit and personal weapons. Seems like a bloody stupid sort of
exercise to Klaus, even for the army.

After the first couple of days the rumour
mill had got into gear. What was up? None of the officers knew – or was letting
on. Some reckoned it was a punishment for screwing up the Kings Parade last
year, others that the new deputy commander, being a fitness fanatic, thought
the rest of the regiment needed some old fashioned exercise. One of the clerks
in the HQ century claimed he overheard the senior officers talking about
collecting new landships at the end of the march. Now that really sounded daft
to Klaus. Why march all the way, nearly to the Rhine to collect new landships
when the factory that built them was 30 miles down the road from the barracks.
It didn’t make any sense at all. 

BOOK: The Eternal Empire
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