The Eternal Empire (51 page)

"I complement you on the
efficiency of your communications," said Titus as they met.

"This is our land and we know how
to use it to our advantage," pointed out Burrus, who had accompanied
Sextus.

"You have news for us?" asked
Sextus impatiently.

"A regency council has been set up
by Gregory Nicerites and General Strategicus. Exanzenus has been stripped of
his position and charged with treason. The Emperor has fled the capital."

Sextus and Burrus looked at each other.
This was one piece of news that they had not heard.

"Gregory presented your proposals
to the council and they have accepted them. Britannia will be accepted back
into the Empire with a full pardon for all people involved."

"A full pardon - for everyone?"
repeated Sextus sceptically.

"Yes," confirmed Titus.
"The council believes that it's time to put this madness behind us."

"So what are we going to do about
the Caledonians?" asked Burrus. "I don't see them being very happy
about this reconciliation."

"We want to co-ordinate a
counter-offensive with your auxiliary forces," said Titus. "This will
allow us to take the Caledonians by surprise. It'll take a few days to organise
but if all goes well the province will soon be clear of your northern
neighbours."

Both Sextus and Burrus nodded.
"I'll return to Bremenacum. Burrus will co-ordinate the military
activities with you."

"I suggest we use your contact man
in Deva," said Titus with a touch of amusement, "it seems quicker
than an imperial courier."

They took their leave of each other and
Titus watched the two men make their way back to their own part of the divided
province, sharing their wish that Britannia would soon be at peace again.

1st
September 1920

Mosa
River, Headquarters of Saxon 54th Regiment

When Franz Maleric had received the
cease-fire order, General Godisger had been on an inspection tour of the Saxon
units preparing for the following mornings assault. As Franz had guessed, news
of the council’s decision had reached some of the better-connected Saxon
commanders through less official channels. Godisger attempted to contact Franz
later that night for confirmation but the telephone operator could not raise
the headquarters.

"I'm sorry General,"
apologised a rather flustered young soldier. "But the lines seem to be
down. I can't raise them on the wireless either. I can send some men from the
signals section to trace the break in the line but they'll have to wait until
daylight."

General Godisger was concerned at being
out of contact with his headquarters but communication breaks in telephone
lines were quite common given their hasty installation and there could be a
dozen legitimate reasons for a line being cut. The wireless set was a fairly
new addition to the army’s communications system and was neither very reliable
nor universally in use.

He had been able to contact a few of
the other regiments in the area and they had not received any confirmation of
the orders to launch the planned attack the next day. General Godisger relaxed
a little. After all, he told himself, if there were no cease-fire, nothing
would have stopped Franz Maleric from issuing the order to attack, even if it
meant delivering it to each unit in person.

Godisger left the communication tent
and walked out into the pleasantly warm night. Rumour of the cease-fire was
beginning to spread throughout the regiment. The chief reaction was a
combination of relief at the end of the fighting and anger. Some were frustrated
at having to stop, many angered by the futility of it all, whilst most were
just glad that it was over.

General Godisger heard all but said
nothing. His thoughts were his own and he intended to keep them to himself.

1
^st
 
September 1920

Arcadiopolis,
Thrace

The hotel in the centre of Arcadiopolis
had been commandeered by the Head Quarters unit of the Praetorian Guard and the
dining room turned into their operations room. Tables had been pushed together
in the middle of the room whilst others lined the sides filled with banks of
telephones and occupied by clerks with files and papers.

The Praetorian Prefect, Commander of the
Guard, leaned over the table in the centre pouring over the maps spread before
him, analysing the disposition of his units. The Moesians were probing his
lines looking for a weak spot to launch an attack. He was keeping in regular
contact with his commanders at the front ready to support them with his
reserves.

“Sir.”

The Prefects concentration was broken
and he straightened up and turned to face the Guardsman who had addressed him.
He was from the headquarters guard century and carried his rifle slung over his
shoulder.

“Yes. What is it?”

The soldier hesitated for a moment, and
he started to speak a couple of times before finally spurting out “The Emperor
is in reception sir!”

“What!” The Praetorian Prefect took a
deep breath, looked up to the ceiling and shook his head. ‘Just what I need’,
he thought to himself. ‘Alexander and a bunch of his brainless, smartass
friends come to offer their advice’. He dismissed the guardsman, nodded to his
adjutant to follow him and headed for the hotel reception, subconsciously
checking his uniform was fully buttoned and neat.

In the large, grandiose entrance hall of
the hotel the Prefect found his Emperor, together with the First Minister
Exanzenus and a small group of senators plus Alexander’s mistress. They looked
tired and bedraggled; the Emperor was leaning against the large reception
counter supported by Stephanie. Slightly off to one side, noticeably separate
stood Exanzenus and the other senators, who the Prefect recognised as close
supporters of the First Minister.

The Prefect was taken aback at the sight
of the group. “Your Majesty, what has happened?”

“There has been a mutiny by rogue
elements in the Capital,” stated Exanzenus, ignoring Alexander who had not even
acknowledged his Guard commander and just hung tightly to Stephanie, his eyes
darting around the room. “There were few Praetorians in the city so we made our
way here.” The warship that had rescued the group from the Palace had dropped
them off at a small port up the coast where they borrowed some motor carriages
from the local Police and made their way to Arcadiopolis.

The Prefect looked at Exanzenus and then
back to Alexander, quickly deducing that the Emperor was in no fit state to
either issue orders or comprehend the situation. “You will be safe here your
Majesty,” he said. “I will arrange rooms for you and your party.”

“Prefect. You need to do more than just
arrange accommodation”, Exanzenus moved forward, interposing himself between
the Prefect and Alexander. “There are rebels at Constantinople and they are
probably on their way here now. You need to send a force to block the road from
the Capital.”

“I only have a single cohort in reserve
to support the rest of the Guard facing Monomachus. I do not have any other
troops to spare.”

“Then send the reserve!” Snapped
Exanzenus. “The first duty of the Praetorian Guard is to ensure the safety of
the Emperor and he has already been attacked once”.

“The rebel Moesian legions are only a
few miles away!” Argued the Prefect, barely holding onto his temper. ‘This
pompous idiot could jeopardise our entire position’ he thought angrily.

“You have troops facing them already!
Send men to block the road to the Capital Prefect. That is an order!” 

Desperately the Prefect looked around
Exanzenus to Alexander but the Emperor just nodded his head, a glazed
expression on his face.

The Praetorian Prefect stared at the
First Minister for several seconds. “Very well then”, he answered calmly. He
turned to his adjutant. “See to their needs and then meet me in the operations
room. We need to issue orders for the reserve cohort.” He then saluted the
Emperor and smartly marched out of reception.

In the operations room he arranged for
the movement of the reserve cohort from its position just to the west of the
town to a blocking position on the road east to the Capital, some 6 miles away.
He then went to his room, poured a very large drink and silently prayed they
could hold until the Pannonian legions arrived.

A few hours later one of the
headquarters clerks took a break and went outside for a smoke. He quietly made
his way down a side street to a bar. There he nodded to the bar tender and went
through to a back room where two men were sitting playing cards. He spoke
briefly to them, took receipt of a large bag of coins and returned to the
hotel.

Shortly after, one of the two men
swiftly made his way out of the town heading west. He was confident that
Monomachus would pay very well for the information that Alexander was in
Arcadiopolis with hardly any men to protect him.

2nd
September 1920

Mosa
River, Headquarters legio I Italica

The rumour that the Saxons were about
to request a cease-fire had also made their way across the river separating the
two armies and although there was no official confirmation the news spread
rapidly through the imperial forces. In the wake of the fall of Exanzenus the
war weary troops were all too ready to believe it and all along the river,
encouraged by the absence of harassing fire from enemy artillery the soldiers
began to relax.

The attack by twelve regiments under Franz
Maleric came as a complete surprise.

Cornelius was at the headquarters of
the legio I Italica, about two miles behind the river when the attack began. He
had spent the previous evening reviewing the legion’s dispositions and briefing
the legions’ officers on the army’s defence plan. He had stayed there overnight
and had just woken up and was about to shave when the first shells began to
land in the headquarters compound. Cornelius rushed out of the tent and dived
head first into the nearest trench.

As the initial barrage subsided,
Cornelius raised his head above the parapet and looked around the devastated
headquarters area. Smoke from burning vehicles drifted lazily in the still
morning air and a pair of horses’ galloped panic stricken through the chaos.
About a hundred yards away was the legionary command post, a hastily built
bunker dug into the soft clay soil covered with tree trunks and a layer of
earth. It had taken a direct hit.

Cornelius climbed out of the trench and
ran over to the bunker. At the bottom of the earthen stairs that led down to
the post, he found a tribune crawling out from under a collapsed beam.
Cornelius helped him to get free and then set him up against the sandbags that
protected the entrance. Looking back into the command post, all he could see
was a wall of wooden beams and earth and he realised that the roof had
collapsed.

"Who was in there?" Cornelius
asked the soldier whom he recognised as the legions senior tribune.

"Everyone," he replied
grimacing. Both his legs had been crushed. "It was the morning officers
meeting. The legate, adjutant, all the tribunes and senior centurions were in
there. I was on my way to fetch you when the roof fell in."

Cornelius looked into the shattered
bunker again. The chances of anybody getting out of there alive were remote.
That meant that the only major combat unit in the area had been effectively
decapitated. And he was the highest-ranking officer in the vicinity.

"Where's the nearest combat
unit," demanded Cornelius.

"The fourth cohort," he
replied after a couple of deep breaths. "It's about a mile from here
towards the river."

A few soldiers began to dig their way
into the bunker looking for survivors. Cornelius called one of them over and
told him to take care of the tribune. He then commandeered a motorcycle and
headed for the fourth cohort.

On a raised piece of ground on the West
bank of the Mosa, Franz Maleric stood watching as more Saxon troops were
ferried across on rafts and in small boats. Engineers had begun to assemble a
pontoon bridge but Franz knew that the number of infantrymen he managed to get
across the river in the next few hours would decide today’s battle. Edwin,
dressed for battle with a steel helmet and carrying the short rifle favoured by
Saxon infantry officers joined Franz on the small knoll.

"We've cleared the river front and
overrun their second line of defence, "he informed Franz, a look of
jubilation on his face.”I'm taking the 18th regiment and continuing the advance
towards Vouzaria."

The small town of Vouzaria was the main
rail and road hub in the area and its loss would severely disrupt the Roman
supply lines.

"Go Edwin. Drive them all before
you. One more victory and there will be no more talk of a 'cease fire'."
He spat the word out in disgust.