by Vox Day
“Perfectly, General!” The guard saluted and turned to Clodipor. “Sir, if you will come with me?”
“Lord Magister, will you have a return message for me?”
“Most certainly. One for Magnus, one for my wife, and one for the Senate. Come back after you’ve eaten. You’ll be able to make Berdicum well before sundown.”
“As you command, my lord.”
Magnus’s man bowed low and was escorted by the guard from the command tent.
Corvus closed his eyes and breathed a sigh of relief—at least the man hadn’t asked to see Fortex or deliver a letter to him. He began reading.
To S. Valerius Corvus, Dux Ducis (in Gorignia, somewhere near Berdicum, I presume)
Amorr (September)
My dear brother, if I chose to send letters as short as yours usually are, I should easily beat you and be much the more regular in writing. But, in fact, as it is only one more item in an immense and inconceivable amount of business, I will allow no letter to reach you from me without its containing some definite sketch of events in the Senate and the reactions arising from them. And in writing to you, as a lover of your city and your nation, my first subject will naturally be the state of the Republic; as our House is the next great object of your loyalty, I will also write about myself and our kin, and tell you what I think you will not be indisposed to know.
Well then, in public affairs, for the moment the chief subject of interest is the sudden and untimely death of the Sanctiff. It has been five days thus far, and five votes, but as yet we have no new Sanctified Father. Balbus and Noctua are said to be the two leading candidates, but obviously neither has a majority of the electors yet. I should prefer Noctua, but since neither he nor Balbus has ever shown any interest in interfering with the Senate, I cannot see that this is of any great relevance to our House. Do be sure to let our Clericus know—I suppose it was inevitable, wasn’t it?—as I believe he developed a personal attachment to the Sanctiff on the basis of his embassy experience.
Corvus laid the letter down on his desk. The Sanctiff was dead? How could that be? His Holiness was the only Sanctiff that Corvus could remember. Reading of his death—and it was so like his brother to only mention it in passing, as if the succession politics were the relevant aspect—was rather like reading that God had died.
How would he break the news to the legions? He would have to order a special mass tomorrow. The men would expect no less, and besides, the late Sanctified Father had merited it. For many of them, as for Corvus, the devout old man had been the living embodiment of their connection to the Almighty. He wiped at his eyes, which somehow had gone a little blurry, and returned to the letter.
The other matter of much discussion and rather more import to you is the disturbance in Cynothicus. The Consul Aquilae took Legio XIV to quell it after the uprising there, but he recently fought a losing battle and was slain by the Cynothii. Now the entire province is undoubtedly in arms and making raids upon Moenica and Rapulum. The senate has decreed that a consul suffectus shall be named to replace L. Andronicus Caudinus, that a levy for a new legion should be held, that all exemptions from service should be suspended, and that two legates with full powers should be sent to visit the neighboring provinces and ensure that they do not join the rebels. The legates are Q. Martellus Durus, L. Favronius, and the new Consul Suffectus Aquilae is—a case of “to whom much is given”—one S. Valerius Corvus, of the most highly regarded House in Amorr!
What? Corvus had to re-read the last line three times before its import hit home. He was to replace Caudinus? He was to be—in fact, he already was—the new consul of the legions? For a moment, fierce exultation filled his soul.
That was replaced a moment later by the devastating realization that the truculent goblin tribes were no longer his concern. He could no longer focus his attention on a single campaign and a single foe but was from this moment personally responsible for all of Amorr’s wars, especially the one against the rebel provincials in Cynothicus. Then he laughed to himself. How pleased Romilia would be. And it could have been worse. At least the Sacred College wasn’t going to name him Sanctiff Suffectus too.
And while on this subject I cannot omit mentioning that, when among the consulars my name was the first to come up in the ballot, a full meeting of the senate declared with one voice that I must be kept in the city. The same happened to Patronus after me; we two are to be kept at home as pledges of the safety of the Republic whilst you secure the safety of the Empire’s provinces as you have already secured its borders by your recent exploits in Gorignia. Why should I go seeking additional plaudits abroad when I get these compliments at home?
So, my dear brother, you are hereby charged by the Senate and People to return at once to appear before the Senate and receive your new commission from your consular colleagues. The city legion is to be at your disposal, along with the three Valerian legions, and you are to transfer your present commission as Stragister Militum to the legate of your choice. I imagine you will name Saturnius, although I know you would prefer to have him at your side when you march on Cynothicus. And not that it should factor into your decision, but I suggest our two young tribunes will be safer facing the tribes than the Cynothii now that the latter have tasted Amorran blood.
Corvus winced. The goblins might be safer for Marcus. For Fortex, it was already too late to matter.
Now, as to the state of affairs in the city, which is as follows. The citizenship law is being vehemently pushed by the tribune Fulvius, with the support of Patronus and several respected members of House Severus, but it has nothing popular about it within the Senate except its chief supporter.
From this law I, with the full assent of a public meeting, proposed to omit all clauses which adversely affected the rights of the current citizenry. I proposed to except from its operation all voting for the offices of the cursus honorum and the tribunate, as had once been the case for the plebians in the consulship of P. Genucius, G. Crescientius and L. Calpurnius. I proposed to confine the offices of magistri militum, legati, and the military tribunes to those who actually held lands within the bounds of the current Republic. I also proposed to limit the citizenship of the provinces what was essentially equivalences of tax and legal protection.
There was only one section in the bill that I did not propose to omit, namely, that the provincial citizenship should be granted on the basis of a payment equal to the amount expected to be paid in land tax over the next five years. But to this whole citizenship scheme the senate was opposed, suspecting that some novel power for Patronus was aimed at. The Severan, indeed, had set his heart on getting the law passed. But the debate on the matter was interrupted by the war, as you can surely understand, and has cooled off for the present.
As for your two colleagues in the consulship, Torquatus has been an exceedingly good Consul Civitas and is well-regarded in the Senate. He is much attached to me. Your other colleague, M. Fulvius Paetinas, whom I don’t believe you know, is a fool and has no idea what to do with the Provinces, especially now that they are aflame.
This is all my public news, unless you regard as touching on public affairs the fact that a certain Herennius, a tribune, and a Severan on his mother’s side—a fellow as unprincipled as he is needy—has now begun making frequent proposals for transferring Severus Regulus to the plebs; he is vetoed by many of his colleagues. It is more Severan intrigue, though to what purpose I cannot imagine. That is really, I think, all the public news.
Do not fail to hasten back to Amorr upon receipt of this letter. Three legions will be sufficient to discipline the Cynothii in the spring. But if the revolt spreads, I fear we shall soon find ourselves in want.
I look to see you soon. Greet our noble tribunes for me!
M.V. Magnus
At Amorr
Corvus stared at the letter in his hand. It was almost too much to take in at once. He was still aggrieved about the Sanctiff’s death, of course, but Consul! Of the Legions! It was a height he had never
seriously expected to attain. He was four years too late to have made consul in his year. But unlike Magnus, politics had always been a means rather than an end to Corvus. Although he had dutifully walked the cursum honorem as tribune, quastor, and praetor in the past, placing his name before the Comitia Centuriata and asking the people to make him their king for a year was not something he had ever seriously contemplated doing. And yet, the consulship was now thrust upon him, unasked!
But it was not a gift without cost. He knew why the Senate had chosen him, when six months ago there would have been twenty names ahead of his own: They were afraid of the Cynothii, and rightly so.
Caudinus was a competent commander, and Legio XIV was the better of the two Andronican legions, to the extent that the retired legionaries of Legio XII, now settled to a well-deserved retirement on their Senate-granted farms three years ago, could still be counted. If he recalled correctly, the Cynothii were a fierce race who relied heavily upon their mounted infantry. But mounted infantry were lightly armored, by definition. The little horses they rode couldn’t bear the weight of a properly armored man. So how could they have beaten one of Amorr’s more experienced legions? How could they have not only beaten it, but beaten it so badly that its legate and staff had fallen?
Was it possible that Caudinus had not been slain in battle proper but in an ambush of sorts? Perhaps the loss of the legate had led to the loss of the legion, rather than the other way around. He wished Magnus would have seen fit to provide more detail on his predecessor’s death.
He withdrew a clean sheet of vellum from his dwindling supply and dipped his pen in the ink. He would write not to Magnus but to Titus Manlus Torquatus, his new consular colleague.
To T. Manlius Torquatus, Consul Civitas (at Amorr)
Gorignia (October)
Forgive my soldierly brevity, respected colleague, and provide me with the answers to the following questions at the earliest opportunity.
How badly was Legio XIV beaten? Must know total casualties and present location.
How did Caudinus die? Battle, ambush, or assassination?
How quickly does Favronius believe he can raise the new legion? Where will it be raised?
Please arrange to send four spies to Moenica and Rapulum. We must know if either of them intend to join the Cynothii in their revolt.
I shall leave for Amorr tomorrow. Do not trouble to send a letter in response to this, as I expect to arrive no more than three or four days subsequent to this missive. I would prefer to receive your responses in person.
S. Valerius Corvus, Consul Suffectus Aquilae
Corvus was certain Lucius Favronius would be the legate assigned the task of raising and training the new legion. Durus would be expected to command the city legion upon its arrival because his family, the Martellans, were not one of the Thirteen Houses Martial that had led the rebellion against Amorr’s last king, and they did not possess either the required wealth or imperium to raise their own armies.
What he had not informed Torquatus in the letter, but what he needed to decide right now, was who would command the Valerian legion he had been ordered to take to Cynothicus. If things stood differently, he would certainly have done as Magnus anticipated, assigned Marcus Saturnius to replace him as stragister militum, and brought one of the other two legions back with him.
But with Fortex dead, there were other factors he now needed to take into account. There was no way he dared to face Magnus without having Saturnius present; the legate had been the one to give the order that his nephew had so fatally ignored, and fully concurred with the deadly sentence of carnifico.
But if he brought Saturnius with him to Cynothicus, that meant that he would have to bring Legio XVII along as well unless he ordered two of the legions to exchange legates. And that, he knew, would never do. The greater part of the men’s confidence stemmed from their unique relationship with their commander and their subsequent trust in his decisions. Transfers tended to signify a serious loss of confidence, in either the officer leaving the unit or in the new man joining it. Morale would deteriorate over the winter, and in two legions facing battle in the spring, that was the last thing Corvus was willing to risk.
Then a thought occurred to him: With their most aggressive tribes defeated, the goblins were unlikely to engage in further incursions for months, perhaps even years. There was little benefit to leaving two legions here when they could winter more comfortably in Vallyrium, recruit and restock, and prepare more fully for the spring campaign in Cynothicus. The Senate would not be inclined to question his judgment, not when word of it arrived in company with the news of the submission of the goblin chieftains.
Even so, he had to decide between the two other legates. He made up his mind, reached out for the letter to Torquatus, and added one more sentence to it, being careful not to smear the drying ink.
I have appointed T. Didius Scato, the present legate of Legio VII, to replace me as Stragister Militum in Gorignia, to be confirmed in this command by the Senate.
So, it was done. Marcus Saturnius and Legio XVII would march to Cynothicus to keep the rebels pinned there over the winter, while the Legio Civitas would follow him to Amorr, then return for the spring campaign. Scato and L. Gerontius would bring the III and XV Legions to winter quarters in Vallyrium, then join the campaign in Cynothicus as well.
The downside was that the XVII was the newest and least experienced of the three House legions, but balancing that was the fact that Saturnius was his best general. Also, despite its inexperience, the legion had performed admirably well against the goblin tribes, not only in today’s battle but in the numerous skirmishes that had preceded it. The deciding factor, in his mind, was that Legio XVII had twice the cavalry of the other two Valerian legions, as he had correctly anticipated its need to chase off band after band of wolfriders when he’d raised the legion last spring. The three hundred extra knights of the legion’s second cavalry wing would likely prove equally useful in harrying the Cynothii’s highly mobile mounted infantry.
The only problem was that one of those knights would be his son…. He shook his head. It was the right decision. He couldn’t think like a father, he had to think like a general—no, like a consul!
How to explain any of this to Magnus? It would have been much easier if there was any way he could hope to do it in a letter, but now that he was ordered back to Amorr, he had no choice but to deliver the dreadful news himself. You did what you had to do, he told himself for what must have been the twentieth time. But what if Magnus somehow got word of his son’s death before Corvus reached Amorr? He wrestled with his options, until finally, he settled upon a compromise. He pulled out a new sheet of vellum.
To M. Valerius Magnus, Senator (at Amorr)
I have received your letter from your slave, Clodipor, and I assure you that I shall make all haste to return to Amorr and be at your side. What an honor to our House that we two should both serve the Republic as consuls! How proud our father would have been to know of this! I am well-pleased to hear of the respect the Senate has shown for you, as well, for surely Amorr shall never fall so long as Magnus guards its walls. I have decided that I shall require M. Saturnius to spearhead the campaign against the Cynothii, and we shall ride to Amorr in all haste, departing tomorrow at first light.
Sadly, my dear brother, it falls to me to inform you that your son, G. Valerius Fortex, tribune of Legio XVII, is no longer with us. He is now at peace in the mighty bosom of the Inviolate. He died following yesterday’s battle with the Chalonu, Insobru, and Vakhuyu tribes, in which he acquitted himself with extraordinary bravery, having slain one of the enemy’s cavalry commander on the battlefield. He died well, without fear, and fully confessed in the holy name of the Most Immaculate. It grieves me to be the bearer of such evil tidings to you and Julia, but if I may offer a small consolation, I have arranged for his bones to be returned to you so they may be laid in the family crypt with all the ceremony that befits a true son of Amorr and House Valerius.
Be strong, brother, and do not let this misfortune weigh too heavily upon your great spirit. Fortex, for he was well-named, is not the first Valerian to die for our beloved city nor will he be the last. Our House is Amorr!
I will see you soon. Look to my arrival three days after this letter.
S. Valerius Corvus at Gorignia (October)
Corvus leaned back in his chair, flexed his half-cramped hand, and sighed. The letter might be more delicately worded, but that did not matter. There were no words that could alter the dreadful truth of the content it contained, although at least it spared his brother the knowledge of the exact nature of his son’s death until Corvus could explain the situation to him.
That left one more letter to write, and for the first time that day, Corvus felt himself smile. It seemed there was no disaster so evil, no burden so heavy, that it did not come with something to lighten the heart. He reached into the coin purse that was slung at his waist and withdrew the largest object in it. He stared at it for a moment, running his thumb over the embossed lines that he knew by heart as much as by sight or feel.
It was a medallion, one that he had ordered carved and stamped before his first campaign as the legate of Legio IV. He and Romilia had been married for only three years at the time; she was newly pregnant with Corvinus and still at the height of her famous beauty. He raised the medal to his lips and kissed her brow, her cheek, and finally, the tip of her aristocratic nose. Even in profile, there was no mistaking her for anything but a daughter, wife, and mother of patricians. The pearl of House Romilius, one poet had named her. Thank God she will be there, he thought as he traced the lines of her face, bright and blurred with years of wear, for I cannot hope to endure the wrathful grief of Magnus without her. And how proud of his consulship she would be! He smiled and withdrew a third sheet of vellum.