The Eternal Empire (28 page)

Claus Hortar, senior tribune of the
Ducal guard watched the turmoil in the city from the battlements surrounding
the Dukes palace. He picked out the sites that were ablaze - the 'House of
Caesar' furniture store, the 'Empire Food' emporium and the Imperial Trading
company warehouse down by the docks. He smiled to himself at the last one. It
was owned by Exanzenus, the Empires new chief minister the one who had started
all of this. Serves the bastard right thought Hortar. Further down the road he
could see a crowd looting a tavern. He knew it sold wines from Italia, Gaul and
Hispania, but its main trade was in good German beer and local wines. Oh well,
he shrugged, any place with stocks of drink is probably fair game at these
times.

He heard footsteps approaching and
turned to see who it was. He came to attention and saluted as he recognised
Baron Johan Alarician the Dukes eldest son and commander of the Ducal guard.

"There's a large mob gathering in
the main square and they might mount an attack on the palace," he told the
tribune, "have your men ready."

He acknowledged the order and sent a
sentry to call out the guard. He turned back to his commanding officer.

"Do you really expect them to
attack the palace sir?" he asked.

"I'm afraid so," he replied,
looking out over the battlements to the flames flickering in the city.

He looks a lot older thought Hortar, he
must really be worried. The tribune liked Baron Johan, he was a good commander,
firm but fair and not overbearing. Although Hortar and most of the Thuringian
army disagreed with the Dukes pro-Roman stance, it had never been a major
issue. Until now that is. These new trade laws had shattered the complacency on
which the Duke had based his rule.

"Deploy the men to defend the
walls and the main gates," the baron instructed. "We'll concede the
gardens to the mob." A forced smile briefly lightened his worried face,
"that'll upset mother, but I don't think that it's fair to ask the men to
defend her prize roses."

Hortar returned the baron’s smile, then
saluted and left to oversee the deployment of his men. As he descended the
stone stairs from the battlement, he saw the Dukes son staring out over the city
as though in a daze. The glow of the fire from the city caught his face and he
thought that he saw tears in the baron's eyes.

Two hours later the palace was
surrounded by thousands of people demanding that the Duke abdicate. The
battlements were lined with the men from the Ducal guard, metal helmets in
place of their parade hats and rifles held nervously in their hands instead of
their ceremonial spears and shields. Calls to the nearest infantry regiment for
support had gone unanswered.

The baron and the senior tribune were
in the west tower, which gave them a clear view of the main gate and the wall
leading down to the Rhine. As they watched, the crowd forced the gates into the
palace gardens and like a river bursting its banks flooded through trampling
the flower beds under foot. The mob was impotent against the thick 800 year old
walls of the palace so they just shouted slogans and demands at the impassive
guardsmen on the battlements.

At about the same time a loud, rhythmic
banging began from the other side of the palace, each crash was greeted by a
roar of approval from the mob. The baron and Hortar moved to the other side of
the tower but could not see what was happening. The tribune was about to send
somebody to find out when a junior centurion arrived, out of breath and red
faced. He came up to the two senior officers and saluted. He then asked if he
could speak to the tribune in private. Hortar looked at the baron in surprise
and was about to demand that the centurion explain himself when the baron said
that it was all right and moved out of earshot.

After several minutes Hortar dismissed
the centurion and rejoined the baron. He stared his commander in the face and
tried to speak, but his mouth and lips were dry and the words stuck in his
throat.

"It's all right Claus," he
said kindly, "just tell me."

The tribune cleared his throat and
swallowed hard. "The mob have brought up a tree trunk to act as a
battering ram sir," he said, "and are breaking down the gate in the
east wall. The centurion in command over there reckons that they will be
through within ten to fifteen minutes."

The baron looked at Hortar.
"And?"

The tribunes voice began to crack again
as he spoke. "The men won't fire on the people." There were tears in
his eyes now as he spoke to the baron. "I'm sorry sir, but the guard will
not fight to protect the palace."

Baron Johan nodded his head slowly and
put his hand on the tribunes shoulder.

"It's all right Claus," he
said again, "I would not have ordered them to shoot anyway. I won't kill
my own people."

He looked down at the crowd beneath the
tower. "There are bigger things at stake here than people just being tired
of my father's rule and his pro-Roman sympathies."

The tribune came to attention,
"Sir, I respectfully suggest that you gather the Duke and the rest of your
family and cross the Rhine immediately."

The baron nodded sadly. "Yes,
you're right, I would like to stay but they", he indicated the braying mob
below, "wouldn't be in the mood to listen to anything I have to say."

"I know a few men who will help
make sure you can get safely away," added Hortar quietly, "I'm truly
sorry."

For a moment the Baron thought that he
was going to be overcome with emotion, "thank you Claus," he finally
managed to say, "that means a great deal, but I don't want you or any
others to be put at risk for me." With that he turned and walked away.

Early the next morning it was announced
that Duke Otto of Thuringa had fled the country and until a new ruler was
chosen an interim government mainly made up of the city council would run the
Duchy.

The events in Thuringa took
Constantinople by surprise, and were followed within days by similar 'popular
revolts' in the other Duchies. Saxony recognised the new governments
immediately but scrupulously kept within the terms of the treaty which
restricted the Kingdoms involvement in the affairs of the Duchies.
Constantinople protested the removal of the ruling families but provided that
the Duchies continued to comply with the neutrality clause in the treaty, the
Empire had no justification to intervene. However the anti Empire rhetoric of
the new governments caused unease in Constantinople, and the commander of the
Rhine armies was directed to reinforce the units along the upper Rhine by
transferring units from the lower Rhine.

27th
May 1920

Londinium,
Britannia

The declaration of martial law and the
appeal for calm by the assembly leadership had brought the unrest that had
followed the assassination under control. However it was a fragile peace that
covered the province and everyone in Britannia awaited the arrival of the new
governor with apprehension.

The appointment of provincial
governors, like that of senior military commanders was the sole prerogative of
the Emperor, although usually in conjunction with senior ministers. Alexander
kept anything even remotely like work at a disdainful distance, but when it
came to handing out prestigious appointments in the civil or military
hierarchy, he jealously guarded his rights. He might not be a particularly
conscientious ruler, but he was fully aware of the power structure of the
Empire and the fact that every successful overthrow of an Emperor had started
in either the administration or the army. By putting his own nominees into key
positions he believed that he was protecting himself from any threats to his
position. Alexander had not learnt that competence in a senior official is
normally a better quality than loyalty. Against the advice of his chief
minister, Alexander appointed Demetrius Dalassenus, an obscure relative from
Cappadocia in Asia Minor to the position of governor of the province of
Britannia.

On his arrival Demetrius Dalassenus had
installed himself in the governor's palace along with some advisors that he had
brought with him from the capital. He refused to meet with either members of
the provincial bureaucracy or the assembly, and speculation was rife and on the
whole pessimistic. On the third day after the governors arrival Sextus was
summoned to the palace. He arrived at the gilded gates to find a force of
legionaries on guard instead of the usual detachment from the Londinium
auxiliary cohorts. After presenting his credentials to the optio on duty he
asked the soldier if he knew the reason for the change.

"After what happened to poor old
Philokates, this new governor isn't taking any chances," he said,
"doesn't go anywhere without at least half a century with him. The entire
second cohort has been transferred from Isca just to act as his personal
bodyguard!"

"But why replace the auxiliaries?"
pressed Sextus, keen to get as much information as possible from the talkative
optio.

"Don't really know," he
replied shrugging his shoulders, "probably don't trust them, what with
them refusing to put down the recent unrest and all that."

‘Well that's a great message to be
sending,’ thought Sextus as he headed for the palace buildings. Provincial
troops cannot be trusted to protect their own governor! Especially after half a
dozen of them had died with Philokates, ostensively at the hands of extremist
legionaries.

As he made his way to the governors’
office Sextus noticed more legionaries patrolling the corridors or standing
guard. Three times he was stopped by bored soldiers and asked to produce his
papers. He took to carrying them in his hand instead of in his briefcase. By
the time he got to the ante room that led into the governors’ office Sextus was
thoroughly pissed off.

I can understand a person being careful
after Philokates assassination, thought Sextus as another armed legionary checked
him for hidden weapons, but this Demetrius Dalassenus is paranoid.

The new governor of Britannia was busy
with some papers as Sextus entered but rose immediately to greet him.

"You're the fiscal procurator
Sextus Capito," he said amicably, "come and sit down. He led Sextus
to a couch and offered him a glass of wine.

Sitting down at the other end of the
couch, Dalassenus sipped his wine and smiled benevolently at Sextus.

"So sorry to have kept you waiting
these last few days," he said, "but I wanted to get settled in and to
do some background reading before meeting the 'locals'. I'm sure you
understand."

Sextus smiled at him, and waited for
the governor to get to the point of the summons. He was sure that it had not
been to have a glass of wine or to apologise.

"I've been reading your
reports," he said, "and a very fine piece of economic analysis they
are too." He gave Sextus a look of approval, "it's good to have
competent people around to provide one with the facts."

Sextus acknowledged the complement with
a weak grin. This fellow can really lay on the charm he thought.

"It looks like the province is
going to be in for a rough time because of these new trade policies,"
Dalassenus said, shaking his head sadly.

Sextus spoke up for the first time
since entering the room. "Governor Philokates was very concerned about the
effects of the new trade laws," he said, "Britannia is more dependent
on trade for her prosperity than any other province in the Empire."

"Yes, so I believe," said the
governor in an almost absent minded way, "but the Empire has a new
direction now. Unfortunately it will prove painful for some, but the greater
self reliance that it will bring will be for the best in the long term."

"The Free Trade Areas proposed by
the assembly," argued Sextus, "would alleviate much of the economic
dislocation caused by these new policies."

"I've looked over these
proposals," said Dalassenus, "and find that they are really little
more than important sounding schemes to avoid paying Imperial taxes." His
face, although frozen into a friendly smile, was no longer radiating any
warmth.

"I'm seeing the leaders of the
provincial assembly tomorrow morning," continued the governor, "and I
shall inform them that I will not be approving this Free Trade Area idea of
theirs."

Sextus felt a tightness in his stomach
"But governor," he struggled to keep his voice under control,
"this was their only hope! It has already been agreed in principle by
governor Philokates..."

"Who, unfortunately, is dead"
said Dalassenus firmly. The friendliness that had greeted Sextus on his arrival
had all but gone. "I am the governor now, Sextus Capito, and I answer to
the Emperor, not a bunch of money grabbing merchants and shop keepers. The view
in Constantinople was that Philokates was too concerned with this little
province and not concerned enough with the Empire!" He stopped to take
some more wine and finished his glass in one swallow.

"The people will respect strong
leadership Sextus," he continued in a more conciliatory tone, trying to
win Sextus over to his way of thinking, "don't forget that their 'much
beloved' governor Philokates was murdered by his own people."