Eagle and Empire

by Alan Smale

  “Or will you?”

  The tribunes looked at one another. Agrippa and the Imperator looked only at Tahtay. Hadrianus wore a slight grin, Agrippa a scowl. Tahtay stopped pacing and looked carefully from face to face. “Many of your quinqueremes are here, ready to load food. But two days behind are the Fides and the Minerva, their decks laden with Hawks and Thunderbirds and the steel rails to launch them. The launching towers you left behind, but those would be easy to re-create. And the remaining Greek fire is aboard a drekar that follows a safe distance behind the Fides. Three ships worth more than gold to you, Caesar. Air power and incendiaries that would change the Imperium just as they changed Cahokia. And in time, with such fine examples, your Romans of big clever might learn to make more.” Tahtay nodded. “I think that an Imperator who brought such a cargo home to Urbs Roma would be rich indeed, and his campaign judged an even greater success than one that merely defeated a Khan and earned the promise of future gold. Is it not so?”

  “I would laugh,” Hadrianus said, “if it would not hurt so much. Is there no perfidy you do not imagine me capable of? It must be taxing to bear such suspicions all of the day and all night, too.”

  “I?” Tahtay shook his head. “I would have trusted you to the ends of the earth, Caesar. And you would have robbed me, for in this I was a fool. Luckily, I have friends around me of greater wisdom.”

  Now Sintikala spoke, her voice strong. Enopay listened attentively, then stepped forward to translate. “ ‘Caesar, you know that Cahokia will not give you wings and will not sell them to you for any price. They are Cahokia’s, and they are sacred to us. So you seek to take them. Your first ships, here, will load all the Cahokian corn we provide and make ready to depart. And then the later ships, bearing our wings and our fire, they will speed past Cahokia without stopping, and your warships will hurry after them, and our longship and war canoes could never catch or defeat them.’ ” Sintikala frowned, leaned forward to study the Imperator’s face, and finally spoke directly to him in Latin for the first time. “Is that not so? It is so. I see it in your eyes.”

  A long silence descended. Agrippa and the tribunes were waiting for the Imperator, and Hadrianus appeared to be lost in contemplation, smiling up at Sintikala.

  To Marcellinus he said, “She really is a marvelous woman. Yet so hostile. How do you even bear it?”

  “Please answer her question, Caesar,” Marcellinus said.

  “Answer? Steal your wings? It is a marvelous idea. I am surprised we never thought of it ourselves.”

  Sintikala barked out a word, and at its abruptness the Praetorian nearest her half drew his sword.

  “ ‘Nonsense,’ ” Enopay said harshly in translation.

  “Sheathe your blade,” Agrippa muttered to the Praetorian. “I will tell you when it is time.”

  “ ‘Of course you thought of it,’ ” Sintikala said to Hadrianus through Enopay. “ ‘It is your plan. We know it for a fact. It is clear in a hundred ways, a hundred things you have done to set it in place, and the way your marines and sailors now behave on the Fides. They are ready for action, Imperator.’ ” Her anger was building, and for a heart-stopping moment Marcellinus thought she would lurch forward toward the Imperator. “ ‘What would you have done with me? With my daughter, my other pilots? Would you have stolen us away too in chains? Slit our throats? Or merely put us ashore? I wonder.’ ”

  “Guard your tongue in the Imperator’s presence!” Agrippa snapped. “Gaius, Tahtay: get her under control or get her off this ship.”

  Neither Marcellinus nor Tahtay moved. Hadrianus shook his head and raised his hand to quell Agrippa without once taking his gaze off the Hawk chief.

  “Mother,” Kimimela said very softly from behind her, and only then did Sintikala lower her eyes, glowering at the floor instead.

  “Stolen you is my guess,” Enopay said to her, but in Latin so that everyone would hear.

  Tahtay tutted and bowed. “I apologize, Caesar. Sintikala is angry, and Enopay is upset, for he loves so much about Roma and hates to be so disappointed in you. As do I. My blood beats in your veins, and yours in mine. I pinned my sash for you in the Battle of the Grass, and there I saw you fight even more valiantly than the men around you. You have my utmost respect, and your treachery is regrettable. And to thwart it, we have taken certain steps.”

  “Steps?” Agrippa demanded.

  “Three things,” Tahtay said. “First: long ago, in the river battle at Shappa Ta’atan, Enopay recovered a thunder crash bomb from one of the Mongol battle junks. That bomb is hidden in one of your ships, with a long fuse. If our Hawks, Thunderbirds, and pilots are not off-loaded safely at Cahokia, that fuse will be lit, and the bomb will hole the ship. The hull should quickly fill, stranding the vessel.”

  Agrippa nodded grimly. “So you have already placed a bomb aboard the Fides or the Minerva. Hardly the act of a trusted ally.”

  Sintikala raised her eyes to stare at Agrippa.

  The Imperator shook his head. “Please do not interrupt, Lucius Agrippa. Tahtay is busy providing us with information that may prove useful. Pray continue, war chief.”

  “The second thing? You see it before you. No corn and no landing on the Cahokian side of the river. If you were to attack us, you would face a hard fight, and even if you won, our corn is no longer in the granaries. We have hidden it until we are sure of you.

  “And so you will not fight. You will not enter Cahokia. You will land only here on the western shore, unload your galleys, occupy your forts to rest if you must, and then when all is ready and all our people and flying craft are returned, you will leave.”

  “Will we?” Agrippa was grinning contemptuously at him. “Will we indeed?”

  Hadrianus gave his Praetor a warning look. “And the third precaution, that you are bursting with eagerness to tell us about?”

  “Enopay?” Tahtay gestured to Enopay: Speak.

  “I love the Romans,” Enopay said wistfully. “You are such a powerful people. Such industry! Such ideas! Your general, here, brought us bricks and warm houses and Roman iron and steel. And you, Caesar, you brought us the idea of blocking a river with iron—a whole river! With iron! Well. Such a thing would never have occurred to us.”

  Agrippa stopped grinning and stood very still. His tribune, Mettius Fronto, glanced at the Praetorians, then down at Hadrianus, and then back to Enopay.

  Even in his weakness, the Imperator’s voice had gained an edge. “What? Spit it out, boy.”

  Tahtay hand-talked to Enopay, Respect. And more quick.

  “Sorry. I will make haste. While we were at war, our friends here at home were not idle. We adopted your idea, and our metalworkers have been busy, and the Mizipi is now blocked at Ocatan. Steel chains and giant log booms, just as you did at Forward Camp. And there is more. As part of our treaty you helped us rebuild Ocatan after your devastation of it. But since you last saw the gates and walls of Ocatan, they have been built ever stronger, ever higher, just like the ones you see here. I think that today a Roman army would not storm through them so easily. And there, too, we have set up throwing engines and launchers for Wakinyan and Eagles as well as Hawks, and the warriors of the Haudenosaunee are not on their way back to the Great Lakes after all but by now will have arrived there to join the Ocatani. Perhaps by now they have also buried bags of liquid flame outside the wall as traps for you, as I suggested. You will find out, I suppose, if you attempt to beach your warships at Ocatan and conquer the town in order to open the river.”

  Tahtay nodded. “And so, Caesar, even if you throw us off your ships and sail away without corn, you will not pass Ocatan. Ocatan is Cahokia’s southern door. And you will not pass through that door until we permit it.”

  “You cocky little bastards,” Agrippa said. “You filthy redskins think you’re so clever. Let’s see how clever you feel when we gut you and toss you into your own river.”

  The Imperator raised a hand. “Lucius! Control yourself! Be silent.”r />
  Agrippa could not. He turned on Marcellinus. “And you? I smell your influence behind all this. The stench is nauseating. Will you stand there pleading ignorance, as always?”

  “By no means,” Marcellinus said. “Tahtay told me of all this last night, and I believe Cahokia has acted wisely.”

  The Imperator raised his eyebrows. Marcellinus could not escape the feeling that even now Hadrianus was enjoying himself. “Gaius Marcellinus, faithless to Roma after all? Surely not.”

  The Praetorians braced as Agrippa’s hand fell to his sword hilt. “So much for your oaths, you bastard. You’ll lie as dead as the rest of them by sunset.”

  “I serve Roma, as I always have,” Marcellinus said calmly. “I am with Tahtay in this because I believe it is in Roma’s interests to honor its treaties and respect its allies.” Now he fixed Agrippa with a strong stare. “Roma means something very different—and much more honorable—to me than it does to you, Lucius Agrippa. I will always fight for that honor. And so I would advise you to take your hand away from your gladius.”

  The tension on the deck mounted. Enopay stood frozen in place. Sintikala was still glaring at Hadrianus as if willing him to burst into flames.

  The Praetorians looked at the tribunes and the Imperator, waiting for a signal.

  Then Hadrianus smiled. “Lucius. Gaius. Gods’ sakes, do I have to listen to you two squabble forever and a day?”

  “Yes, sirs,” said Tahtay. “I implore you, heed the Imperator. There is no need for any unpleasantness. Even now I believe we can all part friends.

  “Cahokia will keep its word. When the final quinqueremes arrive, they will dock here and we will help you unload our people and our craft. Then we will give you the corn that we promised. We will assist you to leave with the haste you clearly desire. We will remove our thunder crash bomb from your vessel and unblock our river at Ocatan. We will grant you safe passage from Nova Hesperia as long as your various forces keep moving down the Mizipi and along the rough trail the Wanageeska and his legion cut ten winters ago, before he was the Wanageeska. We will not harass you. But you can be sure that we will be watching you.”

  Sintikala spoke. This time it was Kimimela who translated. “ ‘Safe passage as long as you harm none of our Hesperian peoples, and go home back to Europa, and leave our lands in peace.’ ”

  Tahtay walked back to stand shoulder to shoulder with Sintikala. For the first time, steel entered his tone. “And then? No more armies of Roma will come to Nova Hesperia. When you first arrived, the Algon-Quian resisted you, and then the Iroqua, and then Cahokia, one after another. Next time, the massed armies of the Hesperian League will face you. United and as one.”

  “You will be welcome as traders, in small groups and unarmed,” Enopay said. “The mound builders of the Great River and the Haudenosaunee of the Lakes and the tribes of the Grass and the Hand, we all love to trade. Hesperia has gold and furs, and you want them. And you have many things Hesperians would like, as no one knows better than I. And that is how you will get your gold. Not as taxes or tribute, but in trade.”

  “But coming to Hesperia as soldiers?” Tahtay shook his head. “Never again, Hadrianus my friend, never again. We will never be your vassals. We will never be your province. There will be no governors, no garrisons, no Roman armies in our lands. Hesperia is not part of your Imperium, and it never will be.”

  The Imperator raised both hands, wincing a little from the effort. The Praetorians waited like coiled springs. The Greek medicus had retreated entirely, his back to the ship’s rail. Agrippa eyed Marcellinus malevolently, his hand still on his gladius hilt.

  But Marcellinus was watching Hadrianus as the Imperator brought his hands together. And clapped once, twice, three times.

  “Good,” he said. “Well done, Tahtay. Wise precautions and well thought out, but they will not be required. My legions will leave Nova Hesperia in peace, with corn but without Catanwakuwa, and take our chances against the new Khans back in the east. You did, however, once promise us Sky Lanterns. They are of Roman invention, are they not?”

  “Indeed,” Tahtay said. “And so not sacred to us. This can be our first trade, Caesar: we will give you one Sky Lantern for every Norse drekar you leave behind you.”

  Hadrianus nodded. “Agreed. We’ll just have to try to build our own wings from scratch. Now we know the trick can be done.”

  Tahtay bowed courteously. “Of course, you are welcome to try.”

  “May your wings all fall from the sky,” Sintikala said contemptuously in Cahokian. “You will never fly as we do. Never.”

  Needless to say, no one volunteered to translate that.

  “I believe our business here is done,” Tahtay said. “I apologize that it was so lengthy. I trust you will send the appropriate signals to the Fides and Minerva to command them to halt here. And by all means, land at your fortresses: I give you my word that they have not been touched since you left, and we have set no traps for you within them. The western bank of the Mizipi is yours for now, and I wish you good day, Caesar— Oh. One last thing.”

  The Imperator shook his head. “Gods, Tahtay, do you never tire?”

  “It is a small thing and easy to grant. Your Praetor, Gaius Marcellinus. I believe you plan to discharge him from your army. We have found him an acceptable teacher of Latin and of Roman customs, and so we believe he may be of further use to us. On that basis, we are willing to retain him here as your ambassador.”

  Hadrianus’s amusement was plain. “Ambassador, is it?”

  “In fact, due to his experience with our peoples, Marcellinus is the only Roman ambassador acceptable to the Cahokian council and to the Hesperian League. We request that you consider this to ease any future…difficulties between our peoples.”

  “I will, of course, supervise the unloading and reloading of the Sixth before I relinquish command to Aurelius Dizala,” Marcellinus said. “And I would talk further with you, Caesar, about the logistics of your withdrawal.”

  “Well, of course,” the Imperator said. “We must get our money’s worth from you, Gaius Marcellinus, must we not?”

  —

  It was midmorning four days later. On the far side of the Mizipi centurions paced back and forth, supervising the final stages of the loading of Cahokian flour and beans. From the deck, the ship’s master of the Fides hurled invective down on them; apparently the foot soldiers of the Third were doing everything wrong. Marcellinus grinned.

  As for Aelfric, he was standing atop the Mound of the Flowers with Chumanee. Marcellinus climbed uphill, his many wounds still complaining.

  At the top, he turned. The last time he had stood up here, he had been overlooking captured Viking longships and a sea of attacking Iroqua. Today, his view was of warships of Roma, visible over a stout Cahokian defensive palisade manned by Wolf Warriors, Iroqua, and Blackfoot.

  He shook his head and walked over to his friends. “You had to make me climb a mound just to say good-bye? That is, if you’re really going.”

  “Aye, we’re going all right,” Aelfric said. “You just try to stop us. I’m off to Roma, an honorable discharge, and a plot of land back home. Back to good honest baths, decent food, and a bit of comfort. Best of all, away from this heathen wasteland.” Chumanee jabbed him in the ribs and stuck out her tongue, and both laughed.

  Marcellinus pretended confusion. “Decent food? So you’re not going back to Britannia, then?”

  “Like you’ve ever been,” Aelfric scoffed. “But if you ever do find yourself back on the right side of the Atlanticus and on God’s own island…you’re always welcome, and for as long as you like. We’ll have ourselves a little farm near the moors. Just go to Eboracum and ask around. I’ll be famous there.”

  “The land of the Brigantes?” Marcellinus mock shivered. “Now there’s a barbarian wasteland if ever there was one. I’d be afraid to set foot.”

  Aelfric nodded. “And rightly so. But I’ll make sure no one kills and eats you.”

&nb
sp; “I never really thought you’d go, Aelfric. You hinted at it often enough. But I thought you were just taunting me to keep me hoping.”

  “Well, truly, I didn’t make up my mind until this morning.”

  Chumanee was rolling her eyes, her Latin now fluent enough to follow their banter. Now she made the hand-talk for enough and bowed to Marcellinus. “Wanageeska? Thank you for keeping me alive.”

  Aelfric’s eyebrows furrowed. “Pretty sure you’ve got that the wrong way around, Chumanee.”

  “No.” She switched back to Cahokian. “Down the Mizipi, up the Mizipi, across the Grass, out of the Grass, everywhere we went, the Wanageeska watched out for me.” Chumanee stepped forward to hug him.

  “As best I could.” Marcellinus grinned. “Good healers are hard to come by.”

  “But even more than that, I speak of my life in Cahokia and of”—she jerked her head sideways in mock derision—“this hairy warrior. I think perhaps I owe you all of this.”

  “I did nothing, of course?” Aelfric asked, mildly aggrieved. “Not a thing?”

  She smiled sweetly. “You, I will always be thanking.”

  Marcellinus smiled back at them.

  “Any messages?” Aelfric asked. “You know, if I should happen to bump into…anyone special, back home?”

  Vestilia. Marcellinus’s first daughter, his daughter by blood, so far away, who must now be twenty-six winters…twenty-six years of age. If she had inherited her mother’s skills at social climbing, Vestilia might be quite prominent in Roman society by now. “I doubt Vestilia ever thinks of me.”

  But Marcellinus had changed a great deal over the last dozen years, and maybe Vestilia had, too. Who was to say? “Well, all right. If you do come across her, tell her that I still live. Tell her the truth, or as much of it as she wants to hear. And tell her I am happy and wish her well.”

  Chumanee was looking back and forth between them. “Wife?” she probed gently.