A Fog Full of Traitors

or, The Eighth Move of the Civil War

Battle Between the Romans and the Venetians by Francesco Allegrini

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The Seventh Move | The Civil War Index | The Ninth Move

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Tribune Sejanus galloped up, Legate Aegidius in tow, his expression twitching at sight of the scout. ‘Report.’

‘I have heard all I need, have the man see a medicus,’ Maedicius said.

‘Most Venerable,’ Sejanus saluted and ordered the scout to recover.

‘Aegidius, I hope the Warini were not too much issue,’ the Emperor said.

‘No. Their spirits have been dampened, I suppose she has something to do with it, Most Venerable,’ Aegidius said. He removed his plumed helmet and scratched the scalp beneath his unruly hair.

‘Thusnelda is now my ward. A complication but a necessary one, you will treat her as such,’ Maedicius peered into the fog attempting to divine what lay within.

‘As you say. What was the scout’s report?’

‘The Governor of Ovilava has seen fit to greet us on the road, in battle formation,’ he growled. It would be foolish to retain the legion in a marching column yet to reposition for a fight could provoke Opiter.

‘We would struggle against a fresh legion, Most Venerable,’ Legate Aegidius fastened his helm back on and stiffened in his saddle.

‘I’m aware yet necessity calls us to do what we must. Our advantage is in our seasoned soldiers and expert marksmen. This fog too could serve my will,’ Maedicius waved is hand through the frozen air.

‘The wooded hill too,’ Aegidius added.

‘Indeed. If Opiter hasn’t already positioned his archers above us.’

‘Sejanus has men in the woods patrolling for such, reports of deer, bears, wolves, no soldiers.’

‘The patrols could all be dead.’

Sejanus stiffened, ‘Most Venerable, I have runners reporting to Centurions in relay. We would have heard.’

‘Good. Still it is best to be aware of all eventualities. Reposition the column for combat. Move the archers onto the hill and have them march fifty yards behind the infantry on the road. Have the cavalry on our right flank where the forest is thinner and flatter. They must not advance ahead of me, have a man maintain vision on our vanguard at all times. If a battle is inevitable we must lure their frontline back so the archers can take them out and the cavalry flank their skirmishers.’ Maedicius scowled up toward the sky, grey and distant, almost completely hidden behind the canopy of firs and yews. The gods do not watch us this day.

From the fog came the beating of war drums and blowing of trumpets, yet no force showed itself. A shadow emerged in the middle of the road, square and still. A gust of wind rippled the shadow’s walls and roof and smoke began to emerge from the top. Maedicius led his silent army until he saw the Ovilavan banner flying above the canopy. He raised his hand and the legion shuddered to a halt.

‘Most Venerable?’ Aegidius rested his hand on the pommel of his spatha.

‘Opiter wishes to negotiate,’ the Emperor said.

‘Our scout was pierced with arrows, I urge caution. The horns and drums are meant to scare us.’

‘Or alert us to their position,’ Maedicius guided his steed onwards, alone.

‘Most Venerable. Take a guard at least.’

Maedicius tapped his own spatha and lamellar. ‘Opiter Regillensis is no assassin.’ Maedicius rode fifty yards until the figure of Opiter emerged from the fog, tall and thin, his armour loose about his frame and his cloak fastened with lion’s paw clasps all down his front appearing more a diviner than a legate.

The governor stepped out from beneath the erected canopy, ‘Most Venerable,’ he saluted. ‘I only wish we could have met on healthier terms,’ the tip of his scabbard poked from out beneath his cloak.

Maedicius dismounted and adjusted his fur lined gloves as he surveyed the fog. The shadow of the governor’s legion stood a hundred yards away, and three times as wide. Either they’re only a few men deep or he has recruited a great deal more than his office allows. ‘Opiter, it has been too long.’ He reached out for a handshake, noting the fresh creases around the man’s eyes and the handful of white hairs in his beard. ‘Has the governorship treated you well?’

‘Please take a seat,’ Opiter gestured to a chair around the fire. Wine and olives awaited them both. He sat after the Emperor had, ‘Ovilava was much neglected before I arrived yet it occupies a vital position on the northern border and as part of the network running east to west. The recent expansion north by you, Most Venerable, only heightens it’s importance. I have worked night and day to improve the city and province to a level more befitting its stature.’

Is he fighting for re-election? Maedicius thought. ‘I apologise, fighting in the north has left me out of date on events in the colonies.’

‘Roads, walls, mines, lumberyards. Ovilava has developed from strength to strength, trade from as far east as Aelia now passes through my city. Just last week I welcomed a saffron trader.’

Maedicius spat out an olive stone into the fire, ‘Impressive. Are you wanting the governorship for next year too?’

‘Gods no,’ Opiter laughed and reached for his wine. ‘Too cold and the people are too miserable. Hard workers for sure but that’s all they’re good for. In truth I miss politics. Administration is for cowards.’

‘On course to make it in your year?’

‘Oh yes.’

‘There’s only one hurdle.’

Opiter gave a quizzical look as he sipped at his wine.

‘Livicus.’

The governor’s expression turned sour, the creases around his eyes deepening. ‘That really depends on what happens here. Is it true you ignored an Ultimatum?’

‘It is but my men’s lives depended on it. I have secured a truce with the Warini and the Hermunduri, learned of war between the tribes further north that seems to involve all the barbarians. I’ve taken one hundred hostages, eldest sons and daughters of all the chiefs who attacked us, to ensure the peace for years to come. All of this leaves Elysia stronger than before.’

‘The peace cannot last. Within a year their women will birth new sons and daughters who will be taught to hate us. Not only will that start a war in fifteen years but the second sons, who are now ten summers, will want war in five or less. I have not heard of these Hermunduri, how many tribes are there?’

‘Perhaps but five years is a blessing to secure our western border, to bolster trade from the east, and found new colonies in these lands. There are more tribes than trees. Did Livicus speak of his assassin?’

Opiter furrowed his brow. ‘I’d heard rumours but nothing concrete.’

‘I’m surprised your father didn’t mention it,’ has Livicus finally corrupted the incorruptible? ‘Livicus sent a knife in the dark for ignoring his Ultimatum. Tell me, is that within his power?’

The Governor opened the lower half of is cloak revealing heavy plate armour. ‘The Law doesn’t stipulate. Custom would dictate, no. You’re the Emperor and hold imperium in the field,’ he paused for a sip of wine. ‘But, an Ultimatum is binding and the Consul must enforce it as required. Plus you are the Emperor, your word is a mere hair’s breadth greater than the Consul’s. Can a Consul remove an Emperor? Our ancestors removed the King and split his powers between you both. Military and administration.’

‘Yet they would seem muddled in our current era. The Consul has the right to multiple legions, senators to one.’

‘As a balance to the Emperor. Necessary I’d say.’

‘Making Civil War inevitable, I would say.’

A silence stretched between the two men interrupted only by the crackling fire and sips of wine. Maedicius’s breath plumed, melding with the smoke and fog, and he spat another olive stone into the fire. A gush of flame danced.

‘Do you want Civil War?’ Opiter cleared his throat.

‘Livicus declared it when he sent an assassin to take my life.’

‘He believes he was enforcing the law.’

‘He is free to believe that but it will not change the truth. His term runs out in three months. Who is likely to replace him?’

‘Herio will try, as he does every year, and fail. Livicus could run again, though it is uncustomary. Publius Axilla might win with Livicus’s support. My father could run for a third term but he won’t.’

‘He’d win it too.’

Opiter nodded, ‘It’s kind of you to think so but I think he is bored of the Diet.’

‘There’s only one problem.’ Aurus would never bore of the Diet unless it had become unclean, uncivil.

‘What?’

‘You assume Livicus will relinquish the office of Consul,’ Maedicius finished the last of his wine. ‘This is a good vintage.’

‘I’m pleased the Most Venerable approves. Livicus has made no suggestion he would attempt to be declared Dictator.’ Opiter’s expression contorted, ‘He wouldn’t dare.’

‘Why not? He arranged for an assassin, he arranged for you to arrest me, I assume because it’s what I would have done, and if he fails at both then what is his future? An election means risking a Consul loyal to me and not him. He loses his right to multiple legions. He loses income, influence, and gravitas. To complete his project of ousting me he must be declared Dictator,’ Maedicius rose.

Opiter leapt to his feet, ‘Most Venerable, that all seems far-fetched, fanciful even, Livicus is defending the law as he sees it.’

‘Governor, I thank you for the wine and leave you with a question. Would a man who sends an assassin kill me allow himself to lose a public vote?’ Maedicius marched to his horse and mounted.

Arrows whistled through the air and snapped against the slabs of the road. The Emperor kicked his steed’s ribs and whipped the reins. The twang of bowstrings echoed from the fog and death threatened him from the sky. Arrows pattered all around. He galloped hard towards his line, a wet thunk sounded in his ear and he slumped to his right side. His right hand felt numb, his arm prickled with pins, as the legionaries parted for him to pass.

‘Medicus!’ Legate Aegidius called.

Maedicius went to raise his hand to cancel the order but his arm refused to budge. He peered over his shoulder to see an arrow’s fletching blooming from his shoulder. ‘That traitorous swine.’

Aegidius patrolled the two hundred yards of the frontline, only four men deep. ‘Raise shields, ready pila!’ With one fluid crash of steel a wall of scuta was raised, spears balanced on the top ridge of each.

‘Most Venerable I insist you pull back,’ the medicus urged, taking the reins from the Emperor.

With a growl Maedicius relented. ‘Whose banners are they?’ He heard Aegidius mutter.

‘Not Opiter’s,’ was all the response he heard. The din of battle stole all else from his ears.

Maedicius emerged from the medicus’s tent with his right arm in a sling and strict orders not to use the arm for a fortnight. Twice a day he was to return to the medicus for fresh bandages, if he had any to spare. The din of battle had faded quickly and the Emperor assumed the worst yet the worst never came. Instead he found Legate Aegidius and Tribune Sejanus conversing with Governor Opiter Regillensis. Twelve centurions, a legate, and a tribune were on their knees in chains before the trio.

‘Most Venerable, I wish to offer you my apologies and hope that you accept these captives as recompense,’ Opiter saluted.

At the sight of the captive legate’s scarred face Maedicius said, ‘Accepted Governor.’ The Emperor approached the prisoners, ‘Partinax, what brings you to this part of the Imperial Republic?’

‘You traitorous cur!’ The legate rose to his heels but a swift spear shaft across the shoulders sent him crashing to the stone. ‘Filth!’ Blood streamed from his chin and nose.

‘Now, now, Legate, you will need all your strength for a lengthy stay in Ovilava’s dungeons,’ he turned to Aegidius. ‘Any survivors escaped? Have we apprehended the enemy camp and baggage train?’

‘Governor Opiter claims both are within Ovilava. No legionaries escaped.’

‘Send out chasers, search the forest for ten miles in all directions. No slaves, no engineers, not even a horse can be allowed to escape. My plan requires this battle to go unreported,’ Maedicius loomed over Partinax.

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The Seventh Move | The Civil War Index | The Ninth Move

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