Steam Legion (12 page)

“What was his answer? I must know,” she practically begged him, completely enraptured by the tale.

“He told me,” Heron said, eyes fogging over as he remembered the conversation with Nero. “He told me, ‘Heron my friend, if we do all that you say…what, then, would we do with the slaves?’”

Dyna felt her jaw go slack, almost literally feeling the bile rising in her gorge at that thought of that pseudo-logic.

Heron, however, held up a hand to forestall his young student’s ire from spilling out. “In the Emperor’s defense, Dyna, he was quite correct.”

She stared at him, unbelieving.

“Slaves outnumber citizens in our Empire,” Heron said, “and the poor outnumber the rich and powerful. Anything that takes work from either of those groups is a threat to the structure of the Empire, Dyna.”

“Then rebuild the structure of the Empire!” she blurted.

Heron laughed gaily, really quite pleased to see the fire in her eyes and hear the rage against the bureaucracy in her voice. “Ah, Dyna, child. You remind me of myself when I was young and immortal. The structure exists, and the powerful have no desire to change it. It has resulted in them having everything they might hope to wish for, so why would they dismantle it to replace it with something else?”

Dyna grumbled but had no counter to the argument. Politics had never been her strongest leaning, and so she just let it drop.

“To have your genius locked in this room, Master Heron, it is a crime,” she said finally, and with finality.

“If you honestly believe that the same didn’t befall Archimedes of Syracuse and many times many others,” he said, “then I believe you need to continue your studies with more fervor. It is not an uncommon story, Dyna. We are inventors. We may light the way, but it is left to others to choose whether they will follow.”

Dyna walked over to the cart, gliding her hand over the device that was even then still pushing against the stone wall with the inexorable determination of a machine. She walked around to the front and looked to the wall, noting that the stone had been crushed where the cart had impacted. For something moving so slowly, it had packed a great deal of force, reminding her of a battering ram more than anything else.

Amazing.

Heron, to her, had always been a giant among men. She was one of the many who saw through his frail body to the heart and mind of the giant within, but now she was beginning to believe that she had underestimated him after all.
He is no giant, not among men or any other group.

Dyna stepped back, staring at what she could see of the mechanism. Like so many of Heron’s works, they were a mass, and a mess, of wooden cogs, rope, and brass. She believed she could see what he had done, but knowledge of the methodology did not retract from the immense weight of the accomplishment.

He is a God among men, or a Titan among Gods.

“I want you to know my works,” Heron told her from where he stood, amusedly watching her examine the cart closer. “Continue them when I am gone, or leave them to rot. It will not matter to me, but do as you would with them. I have confidence that you will find something of value here.”

“Value?” She turned to look at him, unbelieving. “Master Heron, what I’ve seen in the last few minutes alone is beyond price.”

He smiled but shook his head. “There are few things in this world beyond price, Dyna, child…and mark my words, not one of them is a trinket of the like I build.”

Those words said, Heron turned and walked out of the private storeroom, leaving his latest, possibly greatest and certainly last, student alone within.

Chapter 10

Cassius looked over the campus; it looked different now in daylight. The guard posts, hastily set up by oil lamp, where still there. He could see the weapon mounts, though most of the big brass pots and tubes had been removed, either the night before or sometime in the morning. He didn’t know which, though he’d like to spend a little time testing out those cannons himself.

They certainly sent enough of those Zealots into Pluto’s cold embrace last night.

From what he saw of their size, however, it would be a task worthy of Heracles himself to lug them around with a Legion Cohort. Unless they could be brought down to size, he doubted they’d be of any value, save perhaps in fixed defenses. Even then, they seemed to require skilled oversight that was hardly ideal when dealing with conscripted soldiers.

A pity, then,
he supposed as he recalled the devastating effect the combination of five bolts and a ten-pound stone had on an enemy line.
They would be a wonder at the front line of battle.

He motioned to one of the scholars wandering the grounds, an apprentice by the looks of the young man. “Where is Dyna of Sparta?”

“The Lady Dyna is meeting with Master Heron.”

“In his workplace?”

“That is the only place one meets with Master Heron.”

Cassius rolled his eyes but acknowledged the statement and headed toward the workshop of the current Master of the Great Library. He needed to speak with Dyna before word of the previous night spread too far, though he had his doubts if it would really be possible. He’d already begun hearing rumors of her involvement, some fairly accurate, others entirely insane. Not altogether unexpected, but it was something they couldn’t leave to run away on its own.

Women, no matter their position in the nobility, had no standing in the Legion authority. Dyna was a bit of an exception, as were many of her family, but Cassius was fully aware that this was a legal fiction. Bestowed on members of Sparta’s leading military families as part of a public appeasement and aimed at those of the Roman nobility who had taken to wallowing in Sparta’s martial history.

It had pleased the nobility, and the Emperor Caligula, when it had been pronounced and since then had never been repealed.

It had never been tested, either. Cassius was not fond of the idea that his name would be tied to the first test of those old pronouncements, especially since Dyna hardly cut the impressive swath of an ancient Spartan hero king. A woman giving orders to the Legion was not going to go over well with the nobility in Rome, especially not with Nero himself. Caligula would likely have laughed it off, but Nero was cut from a different cloth entirely.

It had seemed like a good idea when he needed every idea he could get just to live through the night, never mind keeping the city more or less intact. Now, however, in the light of day, Cassius had an ever sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that there would be trouble.

He stepped into the workshop just as Master Heron appeared from the far side, walking in his direction.

“Centurion Cassius, I believe, yes?”

“Yes, Master Heron.” He tilted his head respectfully. “Is Dyna here?”

“She is in the back room,” Heron told him. “Announce yourself before entering, or I will have you ejected from the grounds.”

Cassius blinked, coming up short at the suddenly very serious tone in the normally friendly man’s demeanor. He nodded, however. “Of course.”

The smile was instantly back. “Then go, be about your affairs. I’ve been up all night and all morning, and I find myself in need of a nap.”

Master Heron then simply walked away and took the steps up to his rooms above the shop, leaving Cassius more than a little confused in his wake. With nothing else to do, he walked in the direction Heron had come and paused at the open doors.

“My Lady,” he called out, not stepping over the threshold.

“Cassius?”

“Yes, my Lady, may I enter?”

Dyna appeared from behind a large cart loaded with brass mechanisms, looking surprised at his request. “Of course…I, wait. This is Master Heron’s private rooms. I’ll come out.”

“The Master said I could enter if you allowed it,” he offered.

“He did?” She seemed confused but waved him in. “Well, enter then. I was told you wanted to speak with me.”

“Yes, my Lady,” he said as he approached. “We need to speak of last night.”

She sighed. “Yes, I know. I honestly didn’t believe we would live to have this conversation.”

Cassius half smiled. “Honestly, nor did I.”

She nodded. “So…how bad do you suppose it is?”

“Difficult to say,” he admitted. “If we were closer to Rome, I would likely suggest desertion. Perhaps somewhere to the east, the very far east.”

“That would not be an option.” She shook his head, mildly amused by his comments but not taking them as an option either.

“Thankfully, as far from Rome as we are, we have time,” Cassius replied. “There is a good chance that by the time Emperor Nero hears of it, the story will be so fantastic as to be unbelievable, and he isn’t one to be prone to flights of fancy.”

Dyna considered that before acceding the point, that much was more than true. Nero was an almost stolidly dull man by comparison to many of his predecessors. He was known, however, for being a very strict leader, and his word of law often bordered on cruelty. She had no desire to find herself at odds with the Emperor, particularly not this one.

“I will state and report that I called on you as an advisor,” Cassius said, “and as an expert on the weapons available here in the workshops of the Library. We can explain any rumors of your command as people misunderstanding what they’ve seen.”

She accepted that, knowing that it would be for the best to avoid any attention from Rome. While Sparta and its history of martial prowess were currently quite in fashion with the nobles of Rome, it would be a poor idea to put that popularity to the test. Earning too much attention would prevent the Emperor from ignoring things that he might otherwise be pressured into taking a stance on.

From her history, Dyna knew that it was best not to attract the attention of the powerful. It rarely worked out well, or in the favor of those the attention fell upon.

“Agreed,” she said finally. “I offered my services to your command, Centurion. The Library is pleased to have been of service to the Legion.”

Cassius smiled lightly. “And the Legion was honored, as always, to work with the scholars of the Library.”

The two exchanged amused looks and clasped forearms to seal their agreement.

****

The sun was beginning its fall to the horizon, another spin in the eternal dance, before Dyna was willing to be parted from the Master’s private storerooms. The wonders Heron had created would stun her to her dying day, she was convinced now. Certainly many of them were not suitable for common use, nor did most have any direct applications to current problems she was aware of, but the proofs she had seen were enough to truly lift her blood.

It was almost the same feeling as she had been swept up in the night before.

Whether it be battle with a human enemy or with the forces of the universe itself, battle is now and always will be battle. Glory for the victors, and death to the weak.

She felt tired and weary as she let herself back into her own study rooms, breaking the seals that kept others from disturbing whatever she had been working on. Honestly, she didn’t know what that could have been; it must have been while she was all but dead on her feet the night before.

I should have known better than to work while that tired. My notes are likely a mess, and useless besides.

Dyna leaned over the papers she’d been working on and frowned, recognizing the designs. She looked between the notes of Archimedes and then to the notes she had made the night before, absently taking a seat as she read her own writing with some wonder.

This may just work. In fact, if I combine this with Master Heron’s work…

Fatigue forgotten, Dyna plucked up a wax tablet and a scribe so she could begin to rapidly scribble more notes on the wax surface.

****

Deep into the night, Via sighed as she found her mistress slumped over the table with her face pressed into a wax tablet. She carefully pried the two apart and summoned the males slaves to carry Dyna back to her rooms.

She followed along, calling for oils and powders to be sent to Dyna’s rooms.

At least this way, she supposed, it was possible to ensure that her mistress had proper cares taken for her body and appearance.

****

Monsters. Ghosts. Demons.

Prosephus gasped as he stumbled through the streets of Jerusalem, unable to hold a straight line to his step. He’d run from Alexandria, hundreds of miles, almost without rest. He was the last of the survivors of the attack on the city, his comrades fallen by the demons and their ghost arrows in the city itself or on the roads since.

Ahead he saw the temple, and a white light seemed to surround it as he felt reenergized. God’s strength surged through him and he straightened, his pace quickening. There were people out front, a crowd, but he didn’t know why. He couldn’t remember what day it was, so perhaps it was the Sabbath?

He couldn’t remember, could only think of the demons.

Every time they tried to stop along the way to rest, they would be beset, within hours at the most…often mere minutes. The demons would appear from the shadows of stones, trees, whatever was there. Hammering their shields, always that bedamned hammering. It had taunted them all the way from Alexandria, the sound of those swords on those shields.

They’d fired arrows at them, a few anyway. It was a desperate measure, since they’d seen the demons just stand there and let arrows rain down on them with total immunity to the normally lethal projectiles. At the distance the armored demons remained, the arrows may as well have been sticks thrown by children.

Once they pressed the attack, fear turning to rage and driving them to charge.

The demons vanished into the ether, and all they received for their troubles was a hail of arrows from nowhere.

When half again their number had been slain, they gave up on fighting entirely and just ran.

They ran all day and then they ran all night. If they stopped, they quickly found that one or more of their number would be killed or simply vanish, so they didn’t stop. Then people began to flag, to falter, and finally to even die practically on their feet as they ran.