Chapter 10: First Commands
The echoes of the legions’ roar still seemed to vibrate in the stone walls of the Praetorium. Alistair, now Constantinus Augustus in the eyes of Britannia’s army, stood before a large table in the strategy room, maps of the Western provinces spread beneath his hands. The initial, intoxicating surge of the acclamation had passed, leaving behind the cold, hard calculus of his new reality. He was an emperor, yes, but an emperor on a precipice.
Crocus, Valerius, and the two senior tribunes, Lucius Metellus and Gaius Fulvius, stood with him. The Alemannic king watched with a shrewd, appraising gaze. The Roman officers, veterans of his father’s campaigns, were visibly tense, aware of the monumental gamble they had all just taken.
"The donative is the first priority," Alistair stated, his voice devoid of the tremor that had afflicted him upon first waking in this era. Constantine’s memories affirmed the absolute necessity of this step. "Metellus, you know the state of the provincial treasury in Eboracum. What can be disbursed immediately?"
Metellus, a stocky, pragmatic man, outlined the figures. Enough for a substantial, though perhaps not lavish, payment. "It will be sufficient to affirm their loyalty, Augustus," he concluded. "But the main treasuries in Augusta Treverorum will be needed for a full donative worthy of an imperial accession."
"And Augusta Treverorum is in Gaul, currently beyond our immediate grasp," Alistair noted, his finger tracing the route south on the map. "For now, Eboracum’s coffers will serve. Ensure every legionary and auxiliary present at the acclamation receives his share by nightfall. Let it be known it is given in honor of my father’s memory, and in gratitude for their faith in his son." He wanted no ambiguity. This was not a bribe; it was a rightful reward and an investment.
Next, the civilian administration. His father’s comes Britanniarum, the governor, was a man named Titus Honorius, known from Constantine’s memories as cautious and easily swayed by displays of power. "Fulvius," Alistair ordered, "summon Governor Honorius. I will speak with him here. Ensure he understands the... transition of authority."
When Honorius arrived, a portly man with nervous eyes, he found the young Constantine flanked by the grim-faced Valerius and the towering Crocus. The governor’s initial attempt at a flowery, non-committal speech died on his lips as Alistair met his gaze.
"Governor Honorius," Alistair said, his voice cool and precise. "My father, the divine Constantius, is departed. The legions have seen fit to proclaim me Augustus in his stead. Britannia remains under the steadfast protection of my house. I trust your administration will continue its duties with diligence and loyalty to the new order."