B4 Chapter 3: Victorious Return
B4 Chapter 3: Victorious Return
“Sir. The crucifixions of the traitorous priests are completed.”
Tiberius looked up from his stack of reports. His aide Lucius appeared at his elbow, seeming to materialize out of the room’s very shadows, scant as they were. The broad window that spanned one side of the massive office allowed in enough daylight to completely bathe the rich wood furnishings in its warm glow. It also made him acutely aware of just how far the sun had moved since he last raised his head.
He straightened, subtly stretching his neck as he did so. His attention turned to the window, then past it. [Keen Eye] allowed him to just make out the tiny figures visible beyond the capital’s walls.
“Good. The others?”
“Preparations are in progress for the punishments of the lesser offenders. Some who are eligible for exile have already begun their march. The high priest of Zabit is unfortunately still at large.”
“And those who surrendered willingly?”
“They are still undergoing judgement.”
He nodded in approval and retrieved the relevant report to review it. Rows and rows of names greeted him, the list continuing on for many pages. Thankfully, not all of them required execution, though nearly all those who worshipped the four traitor gods did. There were plenty of priests who had thrown themselves on the Empire's mercy, professing their uninvolvement with the attack on the capital and a lack of knowledge regarding that plan as well.
Tiberius had allowed the Roman priests and some of the first Legion’s officers to judge them individually. Some were exiled and escorted to the far reaches of the empire to settle in other lands. Others were allowed to stay, with the understanding that they would sacrifice to the Roman pantheon instead of or as well as their own gods. From what he heard, some even took that a step further by claiming their gods were aspects of the Roman ones or even servants to them.
That sounded like a desperate bid to ingratiate themselves to the Romans, in Tiberius’s opinion. But he was willing to see where it led. Despite his decree, he really would have preferred not to take a personal role in restructuring these conquered people’s entire pantheon. But recent matters had forced his hand.
He shuffled through the rest of the reports on the recent church reconstruction. A list of assets seized from the biggest offenders, “donations” offered by those seeking to improve their lots, and materials scrapped from demolishing some of the now uninhabited churches in the Temple District would do wonders for their treasury. Selling off the former king’s hoard of spirits had given them a much-needed influx, but that had quickly begun to try up. Paying his own men required no small sum, not to mention the adventurers he’d been forced to outsource odd jobs to.
His eye caught on a page. “Festivals?”
“Indeed, sir.” Lucius confirmed. “Apparently, there are a plethora of festivals and holidays celebrated by Novarans that relate to the old gods and their worship. It has been suggested that these festivals be maintained for the sake of public morale and satisfaction, with alterations to make them more agreeable to our pantheon.”
Tiberius glanced through the festivals listed. Sacrifices, days of giving, days to memorialize some historic event or another. There was one particularly strange one coming up that involved the lighting of many lanterns and releasing them to join the sun above. He supposed the priests of Apollo would appreciate that one.
He suppressed a snort. Not because it was a bad idea, of course. Integrating elements of local culture like this was actually fairly standard practice. He recalled a jumble of seemingly unrelated and often contradictory holidays from their home world precisely because of measures like this. But the idea that keeping morale so high could be so simple… Rome truly was ruled by a mob.
“Make it so.” He continued flipping through the reports as Lucius nodded and silently sent word along to the relevant parties. This entire thing had proven to be quite the headache. What’s more, Tiberius was all but certain they hadn’t managed to sniff out every single traitor, much less every priest. At least those openly affiliated had been dealt with or would be made examples of. But they would have to remain vigilant against further incursions, particularly sympathizers on the more secular side.
It couldn’t be helped. That was a duty of the Emperor, after all, and he could not go purging the entire bureaucracy. That would be more difficult to repair than the populace's faith. Though he had a bit of breathing room as it was. This display of might would make any other upstarts keep their heads down and do their jobs, at least for some time. Sure, they would be plotting in the background, but what bureaucrat wasn’t?
Tiberius took a moment to go over the other punishments being prepared with Lucius. Crucifixion was the highest form of pain that one could inflict traditionally, but there were others that were sometimes more useful in keeping the populace in line—after all, if there was one thing a mob loved, it was entertainment.
A subset of offenders would be set aside for gladiator duels, where their fates would be decided by their prowess and the whims of the gods themselves. Bureaucrats were excellent targets for such sport, especially given that they had a chance to survive. Either way, Tiberius was rather looking forward to it all. Though whether to send them to Haberville’s arena or begin a new one here remained a matter of some consideration.
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He had not made the announcements yet, but already the logistics had started, and judging by the mood of the city, it would go over quite well. Very few of them were happy with the attack that had landed at their doorsteps.
“Additionally, there is a minor matter regarding the penal gangs. There is great resistance to the idea of forcing prisoners to alter their skills. Not just from the prisoners themselves, but the populace.”
“I do not see why. It enables them to work more efficiently and serves as a lasting reminder of their crimes.” Tiberius said simply.
“A lasting reminder that hamstrings them once their labor is complete, or so the argument goes,” his aide responded. “Evidently, forced skill swapping is a great taboo here, one not practiced in their own prisons. It goes against not just the gods, but the System itself.”
It made some sense. Though the Legionnaires changed out their skills relatively frequently for newer and higher rarity ones, they had a far greater supply of advancement than the average person. Still, Tiberius couldn’t find himself sympathetic to the prisoners’ plight. Especially not when they had so much work to get done.
“We will consider reserving such measures for more severe offenders. That is as far as I will compromise.”
Lucius nodded.
He returned to his work, organizing and prioritizing the matters of greatest import for the budding empire. Construction wasn’t the only matter that needed tending to. There were also neighboring countries whose existence he’d learned of thanks to the far more detailed maps of the Novarans. Their dispositions lay between the hostility of the orcs and the subservience of the elves, at least as it related to the country’s former leadership.
A knock at the door drew him from his planning. “Enter.”
The door creaked open to reveal two figures. Gaius and Quintus, both men freshly washed but their armor still bearing the scars and stains of a violent campaign.
Tiberius motioned for them to step forward. Gaius entered first, followed by his Primus Pilus. When they both stood before him and saluted as though he were still their Legatus, Tiberius fixed them with his gaze.
“Report.”
And so they did. Tiberius had already skimmed over the preliminary reports, of course, but it was best to hear from the men themselves. Certain insights and details tended to be lost otherwise.
“...I see,” Tiberius said when they had finished. “Then you return victorious.”
“Indeed, emperor,” Gaius agreed. “Moreso than expected. With how things ended up, I suspect that we will not need to worry about the orcs for a long while. Even with their prodigious reproduction.”
Tiberius glanced toward Quintus. The elder centurion stood silent and impassive, but he could tell the man had something to say. “Speak, Primus.”
Quintus hesitated, his eyes flicking to Gaius before speaking. “With all due respect, emperor. I advise that we do not allow this victory to make us complacent. There are orcs that remain and could pose a threat in the future. We should finish them off while we have the chance. There will be no better opportunity.”
Tiberius leaned back in his seat. “I see. And when would you have the men move out?”
“Immediately, sir. Provided there are well-rested troops available.”
He chuckled inwardly at that. With how many directions they were being pulled, there was fat chance of that. Quintus’s suggestion was not a bad one, per se. It was doable. But at what cost?
“The Legion is needed here. Too many tasks have gone unattended to as a result of this campaign.” Tiberius said. “We need good men to train the next generation, not to lose more by overextending ourselves in war. And what guarantee do we have that these orcs were the totality of the enemy’s forces?” He asked. “Their numbers were great, true, but who’s to say there are not more in hiding or preparing to advance in their brethren’s stead?”
Tiberius posed the question to Quintus, but it was Gaius who answered. “Our scouts suggest that is not the case. The group gathered at the mustering grounds appeared to be a result of attempts to collect all orcs in the region. And while I cannot say with certainty that those efforts were successful, the numbers suggest it was quite effective.”
The emperor looked back toward Quintus. “Be that as it may. Too many losses have resulted from underestimating our enemy. Too many losses and inefficiencies from spreading ourselves thin. For now, we must consolidate. We must ensure our hold before we attempt to grasp for more.”
It was why the priests had managed to wreak as much havoc as they had. If they’d properly consolidated, their plot shouldn’t have stood a chance. It may have even been smothered by the presence and threat of the Legionnaires alone.
Gaius nodded. “It will be done, emperor.”
Quintus's face twisted into a frown, but Tiberius was pleased that he did not question his orders further. He still knew his role and would not undermine his Legatus.
Gaius proceeded to give a summary of what he’d learned about orc reproduction. Apparently, through observing their camps, he’d been able to put together a rough estimate of when their numbers might recover. In his opinion, they had at least five years before enough massed to become a real threat once more, assuming there weren’t more hidden away. It was a long time in theory, but shockingly short considering the number of losses they’d suffered. Tiberius could only hope that was the case.
Afterwards, Tiberius nodded. “Very well. For now, we will put expansion of the Empire on hold. We need to consolidate, train new recruits, and improve our own capabilities before venturing forth to conquer once again.”
Both men—though it still felt strange to call Gaius a man—saluted at the words. Tiberius turned to Quintus once more. “One more thing. I will be borrowing your Primus Pilus for a while, Legatus Gaius. I have need of his skills to train the next generation and the auxiliaries.”
Gaius nodded, hiding his frown well. Quintus stood as resolute as ever.
“Then you are both dismissed. I will send for you when I have additional orders.”
Tiberius watched the two men go. The plans for standing up his third Legion were well underway. All that was left was to finish preparing his Legatus, and once the training was complete, he would have close to enough troops loyal to the Empire to continue their conquest. As much as he knew the necessity of all this, he couldn’t help but feel eager to continue growing the Empire.