[IB SAI:AAR] The Last Pagan Emperor (UPDATED 08/05/2021)

[Justinian Australis]

Thanks for reading guys. Just a quick chapter to keep things moving. Once again I've found myself writing a chapter only to go 'Nope, not happy' and completely changed it, which is why its been a bit between updates. I will definitely look at entering the next MAARC when its up. Cheers

Chapter XCII

“Enemy sighted!”

Castinus Laelius rode ahead of the marching column after hearing the cries of the advance party passed back to his position as they returned to the column, his bodyguard struggling to keep up with the twenty one year old’s boundless energy. “Report!” he asked sternly upon happening across the exploratores, struggling for their breath. “Persians...a moderate force, mainly heavy cavalry, light on infantry”. Laelius marched with a full complement of troops and had a distinct advantage. The first battle of the war was about to be fought and Laelius’ youth predisposed him to confidence. The orders for battle formation quickly went down the line and the mass of men begun the well rehearsed routine of aligning themselves properly. The onagers were to remain behind.

Through the trees that erupted through the swaying brown grasses of the undulating terrain, glimpses could be seen of the enemy and they were a dazzling panoply of coloured shields, tunics and mail armour. Though small in number they radiated experience and a good degree of intimidation. When satisfied that the order was correct and the men indicating they were good and ready for battle, the Romans advanced at a steady pace, observing the Persian’s falling back to try and find a firm footing in which to fight.

Persian arrows reached the advancing Roman’s first and a number of the Roman archers fell under the fire. Laelius ordered his very own hired Savaran to drive off the Persian’s. The heavily clad horsemen of iron thundered as fast as they could towards these troublesome missile troops. Without daring to venture too close, they pulled up short and fell back to the howls of abuse from their fellow countrymen, calling them out as traitors. The Persian archers were superior to that of the Romans and begun to inflict a concerning toll upon the Roman missile troops. The Persian general was not intimidated in the slightest about the odds that he faced. Instead he opted to advance and his right at once peeled off towards the Roman veterani cavalry, who had no desire to engage directly with the Parsi horse.. The al-wadi3 of the Persian’s drove straight at the Roman center, who had yet to halt after continuing their advance, utterly fearless in their momentum. Momentarily the Herculiani were caught off guard by the violent charge and Laelius watched with concern as casualties begun mounting quickly.

“Reinforce them dammit!” he screamed at optios who looked shellshocked by the charge. The older more experienced men soon came to their senses, some of them no doubt shamed that a younger and less battle hardened man such as Laelius had a better grasp on the moment at hand and their training and experience surfaced. Two cohorts came to their aid, flanking the heavy cavalry of the enemy and began unloading their pila from both sides that had the effect of halting the early success and causing doubt in the minds of the Arab cavalry. Not much later did the two relieving cohorts attack from both sides and the Arabs found themselves flanked deep behind the Roman mainline.

Artivardiya had decided that there was nothing to be gained after seeing his Arab allies lost amongst the Romans and finding himself at the lower part of a crest and begun issuing an orderly retreat. Of course, the men on horseback managed a quick getaway at the expense of those still on foot. Laelius had initially ordered the Roman’s to halt but petulance on the part of his Persian allies saw them charge at those unable to make hasty retreat. The fleeing Persians found themselves in an intolerable position and were forced to rally and they turned to fight and with nothing for it, put up a stout defence that delayed their demise and sent Romans to meet their respective Gods but the end was inevitable and they were all slaughtered to a man. Laelius had only slight casualties, most of those coming from an initial charge and that of a wing of Veterani cavalry who opted into fray. After dealing with the aftermath, word was sent to Aurelianus who would by now have begun the unenviable task of surrounding Nineveh.

*********

"An Excerpt taken from "The Histories of the Roman Empire under Flavius Claudius lulianus"'

…… “the savagery of treachery gripped the hearts of the perfidious in the streets of Marcianopolis, the Dux of Pannonia Germanianus, engaged matters of state, entertaining Clearchus Cossus as well, whilst awaiting a private performance for himself and his guests to the replication of classical theatre of ancient times for their amusement. Extra troops had been thus engaged as unrest spilled onto the streets in some quarters in the previous days but matters appeared to be in control and Germanianus eased his vigilance, though not that of his officers whom were instructed to maintain a most careful watch upon the city. As if it was contrived to be so, messengers reached Germanianus as the theater was to commence of a major disturbance, as buildings suddenly came ablaze as if giant torches, Pagan and orthodox Christians houses of worship alike plundered and destroyed. Hapless militia attempting to put down the unrest were overwhelmed by maddened mobs intent on the most foulest of mischief.

No blame could be placed at the feet of Germanianus, who was as had been always, a careful and considerate man, ever keen in the application of his duties, in administering law and its equitable distribution among men of all classes. Instead, numerous people could be considered at fault for the chaos, chiefly the Christians, of the Arian heresy, as it is known to the Orthodox faith whose disputes with their brothers of a different interpretation as to the nature of Trinity, which is covered in detail in other books but not to be elaborated upon further here. Those who had not been recalled by Constantius II had been done so by the Emperor lulianus, not out of consideration to their faith and sensibilities but of motives of intentional division and unrest. As is properly said, that there is no wild beast so dangerous to men as Christians are to one another. They would be ever divided among themselves, brought to a state of paralysis by their differences in doctrine and opinions. Never again could they be allowed a place of prominence in ascendance over the old Gods of the Roman state, as decreed by the Emperor. Protected by the edicts of the Emperor as to their right to worship and fear no repercussions for it but for it to end there and receive no favour or privilege in the Roman state.

Here, controversially I add this, that the Emperor must take a portion of the blame, for his efforts to create disunity among Christians instead caused much chaos and despair among her citizens, chiefly in Marcianopolis as the Arians delighted in returning the favour to the orthodox Christians in burning their books and attacking their holy men with such recklessness and lack of rationality, though one will always wonder whether rationality can be found in such matters of faith? I deign not to entertain such notions however, for it is not the purpose of these books, that other writers who so desire to expend their thoughts upon and weaken their writing hands in endless tomes of nonsense can do so freely, other than to mention it in passing as a means of offering context for the complex events of these times.

As with these events, when the times turn chaotic and evil, wicked men take advantage to further their own ends and abandoned individuals joined in the maelstrom. One man took nominal leadership over bands of protesters, some of the garrison and pushed back those sent against them. They won a victory when Germanianus found the position he held intolerable and opted to withdraw from the city, the situation at that point lost, abandoning Marcianopolis to the whims of the discontent and of the Gods. The Dux was initially overcome with indecision and doubt, feeling as if he had failed himself and the Emperor but his vigor and decisiveness soon banished the negative thoughts from his mind, with firm encouragements and entreaties from his closest advisers. At once word was sent to Constantinople for reinforcements and as if it where a gift provided by the Gods, an Imperial detachment of the auxillia palatinae was about to embark for the East to join the war against the Sassanids. However they were sent north in a forced march that caught the rebels of the city off guard. Their attempts at an alliance with the Goths came to nought, and perhaps far too late, for the circumvallation of Marcianopolis prevented this from occurring, as Germanianus employed vigorous means to surround the rebellious city. These messengers were caught and executed in sight of the walls, as were those who fled the city in the hopes of clemency from Germanianus but coldly were they dispatched as they closed in on the fortifications of the siege works, the Alan mercenaries doing the dastardly work. Such was the clemency of the Dux of Pannonia, for if any doubts as to his attitude towards the revolt existed, they were thus dispelled by his harsh response and it was rumoured that he spoke that all of them must die for their folly, with no exceptions or clemency to be offered.

[Alwyn]

Good chapter! It looks like Laelius is a competent commander despite his relative youth and lack of experience. I like the way that your chapters offers a different style, the writing of Flavius Claudius lulianus. The Dux of Pannonia's treatment of the messengers seems to indicate that he has overcome his initial indecision and that he has a ruthless streak.

You mentioned that you will consider entering the MAARC LXXI. I have posted the submissions/nominations thread for this MAARC today, you would be welcome to enter.

[Caillagh de Bodemloze]

Alwyn has stolen the words from my mouth keyboard! I was going to say that I like your description of Germanianus's 'clemency' - the contradiction between the word ('clemency') and the reality (killing the messengers) makes it very effective, I think.

[Owlparrot3]

Your writing beutifully portrays Germania as a wild land of half crazed men and thats how most romans thought it to be and i just like the eastren vibe .Hey bravo you bought three worlds in one chapter!!!.Great story .Keep writing .

[Justinian Australis]

Thanks mad orc for dropping by, always good to get new readers and thanks for the kind words!

Chapter XCIII

A heavy set man, past his physical prime with a large shock of red hair tied into a ponytail and a bushy beard was accompanied by two younger men, no older than twenty. They shared the same unruly growth of red hair but were superb physical specimens, covered in the blue tattoos that their father shared. They hauled a small currach from the surf effortlessly, both men, with their father lazily sitting in the boat cursing the young men, though in a good nature common between fathers and sons. “Move it you piss buckets, before I freeze to death!”

“Maybe we should just leave him?” The eldest grinned and both made a motion as if to leave him behind but just as soon turned back to the currach and dragged it beyond the water line. The old man jumped out of the boat and begun to unload baskets laden with fish of all sorts. “This will fetch a tidy sum at Dal Riata my boys” said the old man happily. It had been a trying day and what appeared to be heading towards disappointment, the day turned towards one of bounty as they happened upon a large school of herring. The nets dragged forth the hapless fish in great numbers and the baskets begun to fill up quickly, the herring themselves a good size for the season. Gulls circled the boat hoping for the dregs of the catch as the men begun to sort through their plentiful bounty upon the beach.

The eldest had stopped momentarily and wandered away from the others to relieve himself when, making themselves apparent over the now increasing swell, where boats. Large boats and there were many. He could make out the figures of hundreds of men among them. He started to back off slowly. “Father…” he called out. “Look”. His father did not look as he sorted through the catch and lazily tossed some by catch to the gathering gulls. “Get back here and help sort this out” he grumbled. His other son had looked at his brother and was about to call out to him when he too saw it. “No father, look! Boats! Many boats”. The old man stopped what he did, turned around and was confronted with the sight of many boats rowing towards the shore. They rowed larger style currach’s and as he was about to tell the boys to make a run for it, he noticed the men on the boats.

“Father...we must tell the village…” The old man clasped his beefy hand upon his eldest boys shoulder and squeezed it hard. “No, do not. They are one of us. They are brothers” he said softly. “This day I have waited for” His boys looked at their father and noticed his eyes begin to glisten at the sight. They thought it strange that their father would be tearful at the mere sight of the currachs. “You will see my sons”. One by one the boats beached themselves either side of them and men began leaping onto the sea and unloaded their cargo, not paying their observers much attention. Wicker baskets full of supplies, swords, shields, ropes, wood and men all were placed upon the sands. Horses were unloaded from larger boats, glad to be on the relative firmness of the beach after the uneasy passage across the sea. Men of all shapes and sizes, young and old, heavily painted or not, begun gathering their equipment. He pointed at a group of cavalrymen. A broad smile broke out“Look there boys, the Guirranmor. The champions of our culture. I rode among them once. You remember the tales I told you don't you?” His boys were too young to remember a time before the Romans, when they came advancing relentlessly beyond the great wall. They had resisted successfully for centuries but they could not hold back the Roman’s this time. Their commander had been cruelly efficient in his task, isolating the tribes one at a time, aided by deeper than usual division among themselves. They did though remember the tales, of course embellished but not too much, told by their father who could ride a horse with the best of the Roman cavalryman. He was too old now and too heavyset to be getting up onto a horse. ‘They are afforded the best weaponry by their patrons, as a reward for their heroism”

“And there, the Mormaers Cidainh” They were powerful men, the epitome of Gaelic warrior culture. Utterly fearless men who showed all that followed into battle their prowess, skill and bravery. They had to lead by example as their exalted status demanded it. One man, tall and broad shouldered, head completely shaven except for a tied ponytail at the back, had finally noticed the observers and calmly walked over to them, flanked by four fearsome guards. “Who are you and why do you stand before us and watch?” he demanded harshly. “I am Fiobh of Dal Riata. These are my boys Gurthinmac and Naiton. We fish these waters and had just come ashore".

Through cold blue eyes he regarded them carefully, studying them from head to toe. “I am Uuredac and I ask you this. Will you stand for us or are you against us?” he demanded, straight to the point. “We stand with you” Fiobh said without hesitation. Chipped teeth added to his harsh smile. “As I thought you would. Excellent. The time has come to expel the Roman dogs from our ancestral lands. You will tell me everything you know about them Fiobh” Uuredac placed both his hands onto Fiobh’s broad shoulders. “Can we rely on the villagers to join us?”

“I think most can. They are not cruel masters the Romans, unlike past Emperors have been. This...Julianus...is a wise man and seeks no ill of those subject to him.”

“He may be wise...but he is a Roman none the less” Uuredac spat. “Subservience is death to our people. We resisted them for many years. The capitulation has burned in our hearts ever since they stormed our lands”

“What of the troops here? Are they of any quality?”

“The garrisons have many but are what the Romans call the limitanei. Against true warriors they will scatter. There is one legion but they are of people from other lands. ” replied Fiobh. “They are weaker than the others that conquered our lands...they were taken across the sea to fight other enemies...but they are led by a cruel man, a fighting man. Dagalaifus is his name”

“Whatever his name, he will burn alive. As will all the Romans. To me it sounds like we have arrived at the right time” said Uuredac. Uuredac scratched at a thick purple scar that zizagged across his cheek. “I have a task for you Fiobh of Dal Riata. You are to go and find any and all men willing to fight for me and bring them to me. We will strike fast and hard and go for Dal Riata. Some of my men will go with you to show that the time is at hand. Do not waste time on the hesitant. Dal Riata must be ours before the pigs can react, so we have a safe base to call home”

“Are there more men Uuredac? If you succeed, the response from the Romans will be swift and no doubt savage. They could bring men from elsewhere”

“There are others, yes but I do not know when they will arrive. I could not wait anymore. They come when they want”

“Very well. The Gods willing I will see you soon” said Fiobh eagerly. “Come boys, we have work to do” He turned back to Uuredac and offered his catch to help feed the warband, who gratefully accepted. Uuredac paid the three men no more attention and ordered his cavalry to begin patrols.

[Alwyn]

Great chapter! I enjoyed the arrival of the many boats - and those they were carrying - and I look forward to seeing whether Ueredac's plan will succeed.

[Caillagh de Bodemloze]

I hope old readers are also still welcome.

It seems that the Dál Riata have had enough of Roman rule. And it sounds as if they may have a fair chance of getting what they want, if Fiobh's information is accurate. I'll just have to wait to find out, though, obviously...

[Diocle]

In my opinion those Irish pseudo-Gauls are underestimating Dagalaifus' cruelty .. the rule should be: "If you think a Roman is a cruel bastard, you're wrong: actually he's a damn smart ing cruel bastard!"

It's a matter of adjectives, they make the difference between a common cruel man and a Roman Worlds' Eater!

[Justinian Australis]

Yes, yes, silly barbarians. Have they not heard of Dagalaifus' penchant for cruelty?? Perhaps they will have to learn the hard way...again...

Chapter XCIV

“Who are these horsemen? Where are they from?”

“I do not know sir, only that there have been numerous reports from villagers in the last few days coming through. They have been stealing from inhabitants. They came from the west coast”

“How many?”

“Thirty to fifty I am told”

Mauricius exhaled. “Rather large numbers for bandits in these parts”

“They are Picts I’d hazard a guess, based on descriptions.”

“Just when you think that these lands are pacified, this happens” sighed the Tribune. It had indeed been quiet beyond Hadrian's walls for a number of years. Even local scale banditry had died out as prosperity ruled over a usually disparate and violent land that had defied attempts by Rome to bring it to heel. Not even the military might of Septimius Severus could quash the Picts in his attempts at outright genocide. Those stories still floated around among those in isolated villages, and distrust of Romans still continued. Yet they brought peace and unity but of course some were not happy.

“I am worried sir. What if it's part of something else?”

Mauricius carelessly waved off the optio’s concerns. “Don’t worry yourself Nebridius. Nothing more than bandits that will be brought to justice. Send out a force to intercept them. Bring back some for interrogation if you can but if they are all killed, well…” Mauricius shrugged. “You will make my task easier”

“Shall Dagalaifus be informed?”

He thought for a brief moment. “No, I don’t think that’s necessary. They are just thieves after all. The Comes need not be bothered. Nothing we can’t handle can we Nebridius?”

The optio saluted “I will do as ordered sir” He quickly turned and left the command post. Mauricius had begun to be driven mad by the monotony of Dal Riata as the senior commander of the garrison, the career soldier reduced to patrolling the streets of the sprawling settlement, seeing to it the peace was kept at all times. He felt he did a good job and did so honestly and justly though he was not adverse to receive the odd coin here and there to assist those in trouble with the authorities. It was monotonous all the same. It was were people like Mauricius, at the tail end of their career and with no hope of further advancement, came, to be forgotten and ending their careers and life in obscurity. At least these raiders provided something different to the usual humdrum of life in a pacified land.

*********

Upon a prominent hilltop, the captain of the small force sent by Mauricius scanned the flat plains before him, then looking towards the hills across from the deep green expanses. He stood with five other cavalrymen who had dismounted further back along a narrow path that lead to the crest of the hill. Low, chipped and broken cut stone at occasional intervals indicated that the hill may have once been a small fort in past times, well before the Romans but had barely a trace left of it over the years, perhaps picked apart by locals for their own purposes. The captain himself stood upon part of a curved wall that had weeds and grass partially covering it and escaping from the cracks. The Romans did not even bother with the old Caledonian hill forts, for the capital of the region was now reasonably fortified, as best as the locals could do so with the limited Imperial assistance afforded in such remote and generally rarely thought of locations. The captain spotted a small white stone hut on the left of the slope, before turning his gaze up a narrow valley with a barely noticeable path that lead to higher ground in the distance. Then finally saw what he was looking for.

Riding hard towards the hilltop and then making a sweep left where at least fifty horsemen. One peeled off at speed, crossed at a shallow point of the river that bowed outwards in front of their position and cantered up the rear of their position as the rest of the cavalry pulled up by the river. The trooper was muddy and his face was smeared in blood thanks to a minor head wound. “Sir, we have spotted the thieves”. The trooper pointed towards the direction of the valley. “We happened upon them raiding a village for supplies. We pursued them for a time but they turned back on us and attacked. They were in equal numbers to us. They fight like no thieves though…”

“Perhaps they are not just brigands” the captain mused, still looking over towards the valley. “Better bring the infantry up. What’s the quickest way?” The trooper pointed directly towards the valley. “Through there sir. Our initial route skirted around the hills and we were upon them before noon. Through that pass there will be far more quicker. Perhaps riskier but quicker”

The optio thought for a moment. The valley did not look foreboding for the hills either side were not high or heavily wooded, waist high grass covered each sides however. “Very well then. Get your men ready and lead the way. Proper scouting procedures you hear? I am not getting ambushed today. I have a whore waiting back in the settlement”

“Sir!” the trooper saluted and raced back to his horse. The order went out for the infantry to cross the river, which took some time and was accompanied by the complaints of soldiers bemoaning their wet and cold trousers, made more uncomfortable as an unforgiving northern wind kicked up, bringing with it low grey clouds that threatened rain. Showers could be seen in the distance. A fine day for tackling brigands. They joined up with the cavalry who at once quickly formed a scouting line and began leading the body of men towards the valley. The captain brought up the rear and kept up a suspicious vigilance around him. Finding these brigands had already consumed the best part of the day and he wished to deal with them before night fell and his waiting mistress grew bored.

‘What’s she like?” one of the cavalryman asked, through an ugly grin.

“What?” the captain replied, somewhat distracted.

“Your whore! What’s she like?”

“Oh she is a stunner alright...big backside, big breasts, what more could a man ask for?”

“Fellatio?”

The captain laughed. “And more. Insatiable she is” The two chuckled to themselves, others around them grinned and one quick witted soldier erupted into an impromtu bawdy song about the captain's woman, much to the amusement of the troop of soldiers.

“Alright, alright, knock it off, we got work to do” said the captain through a smirk. “Pay attention, we are going through the valley” His order was relayed down the line. A light drizzle begun to make things ever so slightly uncomfortable, the skies indicating that more tempestuous weather, that one would not dare be caught in, was on it’s way. “Where is Nebridius sir? Why did he not come with us?” queried one of the cavalryman to the captain. He simply pointed at the darkening skies. “Afraid to get himself wet probably” he replied. ‘Gets promoted and now hides behind the walls of Dal Riata, polishing Mauricius’ shaft in the process” the captain spat.

He did not have long to wallow in his disgust for further ahead came the sudden cries of surprised soldiers, the whinnying of terrified horses and the dread sounds of arrows and javelins arcing from unseen hands and peppering the Roman column. The captain was snapped to attention as his mind had wandered and he noticed blue painted figures emerge from the long grass and other hiding places, hollering wildly and cursing. Wild and vicious men clutching javelins hurled their weapons with anger as men fell in the complete chaos.

‘Sons of Dis, we are been ambushed!” the captain cursed under his breath. The enemy emerged from behind trees and shrubs, armed with pikes and began furiously stabbing at the cavalry as horses reeled from the attacks and men were flung helplessly from their horses. Cries of “Help us, oh God!” came up from the Christians among the column along with other attempts at invoking the intercession of other Gods. “Form up! Forum up!” the captain screamed at his officers, who tried to relay the commands to the troops. The first man flew backwards as a javelin smashed into his head and was protruding from the back of his skull. Blood and brain matter splattered the shocked captain’s face. The troops attempted to raise their shields to protect from the rain of missiles but they begun to be tightly pressed together in the chaos. From both sides came men darting down the hillsides, swords raised up high ready to slash, spears ready to be stabbed.

The militia were utterly unprepared for the onslaught. They were no legionaries, just regular men used to watching walls and forts, with some degree of combat training but never really expecting to have to use their weapons in anger. Not here, not in the quiet, Romanized lands of the Caledonians. They knew not where they had come from as the enemy launched themselves in a frenzy upon the Romans, trying to climb over those shields that were able to be used. The Romans could not use their weapons effectively.

The captain noticed that his own guard begun to be attacked. Thinking quickly he grabbed two miles roughly. “Get yourselves to Dal Riata and warn them. Then get to Dagalaifus and warn him also….Jupiter’s arse that these are theives. It’s a damned invasion. Go damnit!” The men grabbed horses at hand and mounted them in a mad scramble. Only one man managed to gallop his way free of the insanity; his companion was felled by an arrow. The other looked behind him quickly before making it back towards the hilltop, sloshing over the river crossing and making a headlong charge for Dal Riata.

The annihilation was soon over. The Roman captain fought on at his place before been overwhelmed. Some had tried to flee but it was an exercise in futility as they had nowhere to go, the Caledonians swarmed the area and gleefully hacked down anyone who dared to escape. The Roman force was destroyed almost to a man by the angry and revenge minded invaders. The victorious warriors began to plunder the corpses, taking delight in killing those who survived in slow and horrific fashion. The calamitous defeat now left the way open to Dal Riata.

[Alwyn]

Nicely done, the banter between the captain and the cavalrymen provides an effective contrast with what happens next. I wonder what will happen at Dal Riata, after these events,

[Justinian Australis]

Well, its been a while and though nobody ventures around these parts anymore, I thought I'd carry this on and see where it ends up. I don't know how often i shall be updating it but I will none the less keep at it. I had trouble writing a Byzantine AAR in the interim among other things, with a dedicated plotline but I do have a history style AAR (in the mould of say Anthony Kaldellis' "Streams of Gold, Rivers of Blood") that I will look at putting out shortly. Anyway without further delay...

Chapter XCV

The passage had been swift and uninterrupted, the people of the land having fled in terror at the advancing Roman column. So quickly had they moved that they could not take with them anything that the enemy would steal from them. Great quantities of grain, dates, figs and the like were taken from villages and deposited into strategically placed dumps. Julianus had no desire to try and supply his men if a retreat had to be called for whatever reason, yet deep in his resolute heart, he could not retreat, not as the great defensive fortifications of Ctesiphon begun to dominate his view, with Seleucia and the Tigris on his right.. The morale of the soldiers had begun flagging after the rapidity of the march but was renewed again with the sight of their goal seemingly within reach. Excited chatter about the wealth within dominated the talk of the men. After ensuring his river crossing was guarded properly, the army methodically crossed the Tigris, flowing moderately higher than usual but not posing any real concerns for the Romans.

The men were allowed rest following the crossing and they begun to enjoy some of the acquired produce from the region. Julianus ripped open a succulent fig and devoured, having by way of his usual industrious nature, forgotten to provide himself nourishment. Julianus savoured each and every fig he ate, tossing aside the empty skins to the dusty ground. An officer hastened to the Emperor and saluted. “My Lord, all of the army has crossed the river and patrols have been put in place” The Emperor nodded in acceptance at the news and then turned to Avidius. “Have all the men assemble by that low mound” Julianus pointed to a spot of ground that was a low, spreading mound of earth that stood out on the plains of the river, ideal on which to stand above others “in two hours. I wish to address the troops”. His adviser bowed and began gesturing to several subordinates to spread the word and have trumpets signal the time to gather.

‘The men appear much more animated Avidius” the Emperor mentioned casually

“Rest has come at an appropriate time my Lord”

“Those walls shall be smote before the might of Rome” Julianus said loftily as he looked towards Ctesiphon. “They cannot guard all points of our attack, repairs will not be made no matter how industrious they may be”

“I am worried my Lord” said Avidius matter of factly.

“Do not be so Avidius. We are about to take a bold stride forward in destroying the Persians”

“You employ me to worry about such things. I do not share your optimism…” The Emperor looked sternly at Avidius. He was well acquainted with with Avidius’ stern visage when circumstances troubled the military advisor. “What I mean my Lord is that something is not right. The advance has been too easy. Our scouts have not returned from their journey to Media. Just where is the Shahanshah?”

The Emperor patted Avidius on the shoulder. “You do raise valid concerns, as always my friend. Yet remember the omens so far, they have been examined and are as favourable as one can hope…”

“Hope…” Avidius mumbled. “I would rather deal in cold hard facts than hope…”

“Yes, I do forget that you do not put much faith in such things. You of course will have preparations well in hand regardless of hope placed in omens or in rational analysis”

“A detachment of allies waits at the northern river passes for any Persian that comes via Bezabde”

The Emperor nodded. “I am yet to have any word from Laelius or Aurelianus. I suspect that their task will be considerably harder than ours. Perhaps we should have concentrated at Nineveh…:”

Avidius shook his head. “This under the circumstances will be the best move. There are at least fifty thousand men besieging Nineveh and they have ample siege works. Taking Ctesiphon could be a psychological blow, depending on the strength of the regime...however it's not the only place of significance within their realm. We would need to drive deep into the hinterland to really destroy their morale”

The Emperor turned to face Avidius. It was awkward to look up at the tall Romano Goth and appear strong but the Emperor did so. “I aim to completely crush them Avidius. Nothing more nothing less”

“They will not be a vassal subservient to Rome?”

“No. Utter destruction!” he hissed. “This is something I need to fully cement myself Avidius as a true Roman Emperor. It is one thing to defeat a fellow Roman and secure the throne. That itself does not lead to glory for who celebrates the death of another Roman? It is hollow. No, true respect for my rule and my reforms will come with a resounding defeat of a hated enemy”

Avidius did not share the Emperor’s desire for complete destruction of the Sassanians, no matter how much blood of the Empire they had spilled but he kept his thoughts to himself. The Emperor appeared to be in that single minded frame of thought that he was impossible to shake from. When he would least expect it, his stubbornness would crawl up behind him and bit him, Avidius was sure of it. “Very well my Lord. If you will excuse me” The Emperor looked queerly at Avidius before allowing his departure. The Emperor shrugged it off and decided to review documents before the men were assembled.

* * * * *

As best as his voice could carry to thousands of men crowded around him, with men to relay his words, the Emperor raised his hands for silence and begun to speak. The day was well advanced and the heat had dissipated to a manageable warmth. The Emperor took in the cascade of advancing cloud that begun to blot the sun. It would appear there would be rain tonight. “Fellow Romans, I stand before you and before the walls of Ctesiphon because of your unrivalled courage, that which has carried all before you. I see among you, men that have worn many boots to mere threads in light of the endless marching for the republic, from lands of the Franks to the eastern domains. We stand in the shadows of Trajan, Verus and Severus, who were victorious and reaped the rich rewards on offer, as they chased glory driven by their own desires. We do so now as to rid the world of a troublesome neighbour and make safe our eastern domains, so that men may live in peace for evermore and to provide the generations to come with much praise worthy actions in which to dedicate to song and prose. As always, I shall share each and every toil with you, as your Emperor, your general and your cavalryman and with the auspices as favourable as they may be.

Should the whims of the Gods decide otherwise, then know that I would die content having served the Empire at the best of my abilities and having bore witness to your great courage. Let it not be the end however! Let us rid ourselves of an ever troubling foe, just as our great forefathers had done so. The eradication of Carthage, the destruction of Numantia, the laying low of Fidenae. These are the names of ancient history brought down by Rome so that they may not grow powerful and rival her! Let us finally lay low these Persians and avenge those losses not yet accounted for. So as we proceed, follow the standard and not be given over to the temptation of plunder and as we engage the enemy, rouse your unrivalled courage for the man next to you and your family and your nation. With the exception of Persian cunning and trickery, let there be nothing to fear. Trust in your courage and the firm conviction that our cause is just, in the eyes of the Gods!”

At the conclusion the speech, the troops were suitably inspired to cheers and shouts of approval. Shields were raised high, spears and the like also clattered on their shields and breastplates. The Gallic contingent of the Jovii and Herculii were in particularly elated, for they had shared much with the Emperor and could recount many times that the Emperor was himself in amongst the men during the tumult of battle, never fearing death or injury, only worrying for the welfare of his men and defeat of the enemy. The crowd slowly dispersed, the ring of officers at the base of the mound ventured off to their respective units. Only Avidius remained. “The mood is correct Avidius. We make for Ctesiphon at first light”

[Alwyn]

This chapter is a rousing return for your epic AAR! Both Avidius and the Emperor have some great lines, I especially like Avidius's comment about hope and the Emperor's speech 'in the shadows of Trajan, Verus and Severus' is brilliant, with effective use of the 'rule of three' as a rhetorical device (as in the previous quote and in 'your Emperor, your general and your cavalryman').

[Johnadiw26]

ay ay ay our beloved emperor is back

[Justinian Australis]

I have to admit, I knew nothing of the 'rule of three' when it came to been a literary device but it seems a natural thing to do in any case. Glad you liked the speech, I wrote it ages ago and it took some time to come up with. Its not something I'd say I am good at doing but glad it worked out. Just a short update, the proverbial manure is hitting the fan in Britannia.

Chapter XCVI

Dagalaifus eased his sixty year old frame into the welcoming warmth of his private bath. It was bitterly cold, even for these parts, in the early days of winter and though still lively and vigorous in his advance into old age, the cold bothered him. He was glad for such comforts that had been provided within the immense Roman fortification that existed beyond Hadrian’s Wall. The castellum seemed unnecessary, for it was large and heavily defended in a land that had been suppressed with Roman blood and sweat and its people integrated into the Empire, as best as could be in such remote locations. Yet there was no better place to house an entire army without imposing upon the large settlements such as Dal Riata and Inchtuthill a heavy and costly burden sucg as maintaining an army within its walls. Dagalaifus had seen to it that amenities not afforded the usual Roman encampments were brought here. He faithfully defended these distant shores without complaint, so he felt some entitlement when it came to the small luxuries of life.

He lazily stroked across the bath, accessible only to himself and whoever he allowed to it and floated upon his back and gazed up at the ceiling. Though a man of war and action, he rather enjoyed the peace that fallen upon Britannia. He was not a fool to think that all of those under the rule of the Emperor were accepting of it but he did not care if they liked or hated Rome. As long as they paid their taxes, tended to their farms and lived quietly; that was all Dagalaifus cared for. As he lazily bumped into the far wall of the bath, he heard voices down the hallway and then footsteps coming towards the bath house. There was a knock at the door. Dagalaifus exhaled and ignored the intrusion for a moment and begun to stroke back to the other side. The knocking became more insistent. “Wait!” he barked, now truly irritated. He eased out of the bath and dried himself before donning a simple white robe. He hoped for his subordinates sake that this was an issue that he had to deal with; he did not take kindly to interruptions of his personal time he treasured. His wet feet slapped upon the tiling as his meaty calloused hands grabbed at the handle and flung it open. The door crashed into the wall carelessly.

An optio winced visibly, correctly sensing that the Count of the Saxon Shores was extremely displeased. The watch guard who stood with the optio awaited a tirade. It was as if they felt his hot gaze burn through their skulls. Dagalaifus then looked at a wooden box held by the optio. He snatched at it and opened it. Even a hardened man such as Dagalaifus grimaced. Inside were three bloodied heads, with multiple stab wounds and genitals stuffed into their gaping mouths, eyes frozen open in their last minutes of terror. ‘What in the name of Hades is this?” he blustered.

‘Comes, these heads were flung over the walls of Dal Riata two days past. The garrison was responding to reports of banditry, only to be ambushed by a large force. The garrison commander Mauricius sends urgent appeals.’

‘A large force of what? Seals? Dogs? What is going on dammit?”

‘Gaels, Comes.’ The optio visibly shivered. 'They came by boat and have ravaged the countryside. They will be upon Dal Riata by now’

‘An invasion by those filthy Gaelic scum eh?’ the Comes spat, having calmed down considerably. ‘Well, I guess it was too quiet round these parts eh?’ He shoved the box back to the optio who appeared he would rather be holding horse manure in his hands right now. Dagalaifus calmly walked around the bath, ignoring the soldiers for the time been. He had no idea the quality of these Gaelic raiders, he knew nothing other than what he had been told by these men. He was not so naive to imagine them as disorderly rabble who yelled and screamed at the enemy, charging recklessly before fleeing into the woods at the first sign of resistance. The battle for these northern lands had been long, bloody and costly. He recalled the mormaers and their utterly fearless nature on the battlefield, who seemed to take whole centuries to surround with and be killed. Their cavalry was excellent. Then thinking of his own garrison here, as disciplined as they were, he realised he simply had not the heavy infantry and cavalry he would need. Among them were Frankish auxiliary and other Germanic tribesmen and their horses settled in Brittania

The peace he had enjoyed had evaporated like the morning mist. Dagalaifus readied himself as quickly as his sixty year old body allowed. His mind galloped along like an unstoppable cavalry charge. He had not stepped onto a field of battle in too long and he thanked the Gods that peace had not dulled that razor sharp edge of a love of war that he possessed. He did enjoy the quiet times afforded by a lack of combat but in his heart Dagalaifus was a man of tumult, of carnage and blood, at home among other like minded souls whose profession was one of death, ensuring that the might of Rome was maintained and obeyed. He stomped from the bath house, orders erupting from within in an inexorable flow. The Brittania Seniores must be brought up from Londinium at once! Call up the cavalry reserves! I don’t care where they come from, just get me some horsemen! What are you waiting for man? Get your accursed backside moving!

[Alwyn]

The discovery of what's in the wooden box is chilling and effective! I particularly enjoyed the reaction of Dagalaifus to this discovery and your description of him in the last paragraph. I wonder how large this force is and whether the cavalry reserves will be enough.

(I noticed that you're up to Chapter 96, if I am interpreting the Roman numerals correctly. I wonder if you have anything special planned for Chapter 100).

[Justinian Australis]

Chapter XCVII

The Augustus sat alone in his command tent, eating a sparse evening meal. Cool winds buffeted the tent as he polished off the dates and figs, which were in abundance at this time. His mind had been plagued by a multitude of thoughts; how the siege of Nineveh was proceeding (no news had arrived for a number of days), the same thoughts directed to Tiberius Secundus in regards to Al-Hirah, the Caesar Corialanus Phocas and his actions, the upcoming siege of the great Sassanian winter capital, how to administer the new provinces, his successor....all thoughts swirled about and kept at bay the din of troops preparing for the morning advance. It was close to midnight now and he found he had no more desire to read the voluminous correspondence from across the realm. It would wait. He needed Oribasius and Avidius to accompany him so he may clear his mind. Several decisions needed to be made and communicated.

He enjoyed this time of night, particularly in the desert, for the relief of the smothering inky blackness pushed aside the stifling heat if only for ten hours. Calmly and deliberately he left the tent and for a moment observed the late activity which was now dying down, all preparations considered and acted upon and men where now obtaining much needed rest. Their courage and dedication had carried them this far, having spied several men in the ranks he recalled from the earliest campaigns against the Franks. Night watch saluted him as he moved about, he merely nodded in return as he found Avidius still awake inspecting the siege weapons. ‘Avidius, come with me’ Without a word he turned and followed the Augustus who came upon the triage tent. It was empty save sleeping medics but its renowned physician Oribasius sat quietly, appearing to be dozing but his eyes opened as the Augustus entered the tent. ‘All is ready’ he said simply. The Emperor nodded. ‘As I expected but I am not doing inspections. Will you walk with me?’ Orabius stood and followed the Emperor who had already left the tent.

They left the camp, under protest of course from the watch and the Imperial bodyguard captains but Avidius brushed them off, demanding extra vigilance from them. All was quiet, save the rustling of the wind blowing from the east and a burning torch held by the Augustus illuminated their path. When they were suitable distance from the camp, the Emperor sat down on a smooth outcrop of stone and said nothing. He looked towards Ctesiphon and felt an immense burden upon his shoulders. His two confidants said nothing, offered no words to fill what may be to others an awkward silence. They knew too well the Augustus’ moods, when his mind was harangued by the need for decisions. Both of them looked to where the Sassanian winter capital was. Only small pin pricks of light could be seen at this distance, little torches of flame held by the city watch, no doubt fearfully attempting to penetrate the darkness to see the enemy that lurked beyond sight.

It seemed forever but Julianus finally spoke. He got up and looked at Avidius. ‘We need to do something about Felix and promptly’ Avidius simply stared back at the Emperor. He knew what he referred to. The master assassin, the captain of the Emperor’s agentes in rebus, he who could place himself anywhere unseen and unheard to dispatch unwanted people or gather information. ‘Your suspicions have been confirmed?” the domestic asked quietly. ‘I trust the information given to me and what I have seen and heard myself’ the Emperor replied. ‘He acts for himself it appears, sowing discord and distrust, those murders of the Imperial officials in Augusta Treverorum is a direct result of that’

‘It appears also he takes it upon himself to sow discord among others, to keep them distracted and divided’ mused Oribasius. ‘He may think that he does me a service by doing so but it is far from the truth. Such actions could have pushed Phocas to actively rebel and plunged the republic back into chaos and anarchy’’ said the Augustus. ‘He is to be arrested and put on trial, anyone else closely connected to him and the appropriate sentence passed’

‘Death?’ queried Avidius.

‘If it must be so’ Julianus replied. ‘He is a dangerous man’

‘Is he with the camp currently?’

‘I cannot say. He has the authority to come and go as he pleases but will you do me the honours of this task Avidius? I trust your abilities to handle this delicate matter. Of course you are aware of how utterly dangerous and unpredictable he can be. He has eyes and ears everywhere it seems. It would be foolish to think that right now he does not suspect he is under my suspicion’

‘Very well Augustus, I will do as ordered’

The Augustus sighed heavily. It was a difficult thing to do, for he had trusted and been close to Felix. Events recently pushed Felix into the periphery and there was no doubt that Felix suspected his change in attitude. Yet it was a relief to have spoken on the action needed. ‘There is one more thing before I must sleep. My successor’

Avidius and Oribasius both looked at each other warily. ‘Your successor Augustus?” ventured Oribasius carefully. ‘It cannot be Corialanus Phocas you hear me? I cannot have a Christian assume the throne in the advent of my death, whenever the Gods deem it time. There shall never be a son from my own seed, as it has been decided by the heavens so it must be one who more suitable, in line with the needs of the republic. Phocas was the appropriate man at the time. He settled the Valentinianus issue, the Franks, the whole Rhine frontier but he has ambitions far beyond that of been merely Caesar as his actions in Rome make abundantly clear’

‘How will you deal with Phocas then? He will not accept this’ Oribasius observed.

‘No he will not’ conceded Julianus. ‘However I will see to it that you Avidius and other men will ensure that he never becomes Caesar and that Tiberius Secundus will become so’

‘Tiberius?’ gasped Avidius. The Goth was rarely caught out by anything. ‘You are sure of this?’

‘As sure as I can be Avidius. Phocas, whether it is actually himself or his sons, will precipitate decline, an erosion of Roman faith in favour of the madness of the Gallilean ideology, a triumph of irrationality’

He continued. ‘Tiberius Secundus, though he has his faults which is merely human, can be relied to uphold Roman virtues, traditional Roman beliefs and the strength of Roman arms would not diminish under his watch.’

‘Very well Augustus, but you did not say as to how Phocas will be dealt with’ countered Avidius. ‘Civil war will be an absolute certainty if you proceed with this plan. How many Romans died because of Constantius II? How many years were wasted?’ Avidius appeared angry at the Emperor’s course, as much as he detested Phocas and his ambitions, he was preferable as a candidate at this stage than having Tiberius Secundus usurp his position without warning. ‘He would be here in the desert, so many months from Rome, where Phocas could easily cement his position and Tiberius isolated’

The Augustus was undeterred by his friends smoldering anger. ‘Avidius, you do not see it do you? Civil war is coming whether its Tiberius Secundus been thrust onto the throne at Phocas’ expense, or Phocas himself deciding it is time to challenge my rule...or at the least his sons doing so. Do you think that I can let stand for much longer his behaviour in Rome? I have it on good authority that both his sons are detestable little monsters and if those two get their hands on power then may the Gods help Rome….’

‘At least with Tiberius, we have a firm and solid defender of the Republic’ mused Oribasius. ‘But we mustn't be hasty Julianus, we do have time to build our position so it is much harder for Phocas. By all means have Tiberius but do not rush it’

‘I do not intend to rush old friend, when have I ever rushed things?’ he smiled and patted his shoulder. Turning to Avidius. ‘Trust me on this will you? I do not ask much of you for there is little need...just do this for me when the time comes please? You will know what to do when it happens’

Avidius said nothing, staring at the Augustus with his cold green eyes, as if attempting to fathom the mind of Julianus. He hated to admit that Julianus was most likely right. It seemed the way of the Empire now; no man was ever safe on the throne, conspirators, overt or covert, lurked to steal the Imperial diadem. The political nature of the Empire and its arm of enforcement, the military, saw to it that ambitious men would attempt to undermine the legitimacy of those who wore the purple. Men of military might could easily break away from the machinations of the Empire to do as they wish. The militarization of the realm had unveiled this fatal flaw, a chasm that too many disappeared into. Avidius cared little for others faiths, he thought that Phocas would actually be a fine Emperor and him as successor, even in spite of his blatant actions back in Rome, was far more preferable than casting Rome into a raging fire of murder and mayhem if Tiberius was placed in his way. Even with the freedom to openly express himself to the Emperor, he could never say such a thing to Julianus. He bowed every so slightly before turning around and walking back to camp. With nothing else to be said, Julianus and Oribasius followed in his wake to at least obtain some measure of sleep before the onslaught begun.

[Alwyn]

I wonder who the successor will be, what Avidius will do - and whether the prediction of the Augustus that civil war cannot be avoided will turn out to be true. Good chapter!

[Justinian Australis]

I wonder indeed...does Avidius know what to do? Or does the Emperor? Or is it his way of just shifting the problem for someone else to deal with because he is unsure himself?

Chapter XCVIII

"An excerpt taken from 'The History of the Roman Empire Under Flavius Claudius Iulianus' by Iustinian"

The Persian Wars

2. Upon the encirclement of Nineveh, Aurelianus had thought it proper that the northern approaches where the Tigris is fed from lesser rivers out of the mountains, were defended with a moderate detachment of infantry and cavalry, lest Laelius be surprised by an invasion via Bezabde. All had proceeded without incident until the first proper response by the Sassanids was put into motion by Vayaspara. Unsure as to the lay of the land and the presence of the enemy, a detachment of his forces were sent due south to provide the Satrap with valuable information.

3. The Romans saw the Persian’s first but were unable to prevent the crossing of the river and instead engaged with the advanced party and were able to rout this force with minimal losses. Unfortunately those that fled were unable to be stopped and at once raced towards the Satrap, who at once marched south at speed and happened upon the Romans. Considerably outnumbered, the bravery of the Roman vanguard was unquestioned but the numbers were too great to overcome but not before causing Vayaspara considerable grief with losses of men.

4.Scarcely had the Magister Militum Tiberius Secundus arrived at Al-Hirah, in the event of preparations for the siege of the place, that a large relief force of the Persians had arrived and presented for battle, to defend the former capital of the Arabs. The lands around Al-Hirah are not conducive to effective operations, been extremely hilly and hard for effective cavalry operations. Upon taking council and causing the troops much consternation and a degree of anger at being so close to their objective, the Magister ordered a retreat to more favourable circumstances.

5.However this disagreement was violent amongst some, with some among the army believing that to attempt retreat in such hostile circumstances, as in the lay of the land and the driving heat of the day, was sheer folly and would lead to utter destruction for all. The forceful argument among the officers and that too of the hired scouts for the march, managed to sway the Magister from his earlier plans. With difficulty he found himself in an unfavourable position, flanked on the left by a sheer rising outcrop of land, the terrain sloping upwards towards the Persian position, who by way of sheer providence provided had little in the way of missile troops.

6.As Tiberius Secundus jostled his troops for better positioning, he riskily placed all of his missile troops upon this broad piece of land which afforded a good view of the approaching enemy but protected them with a line of heavy cavalry. The infantry remained to the right on lower ground but held a slightly elevated position, they too screened by three alae of heavy cavalry. The Persian’s advanced but came under intolerable attack by the Syrian archers, forcing them to send cavalry up towards the Roman position but by sheer weight of the angry flight of missiles, the Persian advance party was sent into disarray and fled.

7.Mardonius, the treacherous and deceitful Satrap of Al-Hirah, commanding the relieving forces, sent more cavalry to drive off the ruinous missile assault; they too suffered much but were able to engage the Lanciarii of the Flavian legions, which at once forced the Roman cataphracts to attack. The Syrian archers regrouped behind the cacophony brought about by the clashing of iron horsemen. The Persian’s presented themselves as if they were made entirely of steel, such was the composition of theirs and their horses armour, resplendent in metal scales and chains, that a ponderous charge could be heard like the advancing roll of thunder in the distance.

8.The gallant hero he was, Tiberius Secundus threw himself and his lesser armed and armoured but no less battle hardened bodyguard into the attack. He was forced into such generally ill advised actions for a commanding officer, as the cataphracts found themselves in difficulty, thus turning the tide in their favour. As this desperate struggle continued, the remaining bulk of the Persian’s steadily advanced towards the Roman infantry. Mardonius himself, displaying unusual boldness rode before the line of cavalry, taunting with all manner of foul words, before the Roman cavalry were goaded into action and they descended upon the impertinent wretch.

9.Such impetuosity forced the infantry at once to support the cavalry in their adventure. Now two distinct hard fought skirmishes ensued and the Persians were not wanting for courage or discipline but the men of the Magister had been forged in theaters of steel and blood elsewhere in the world, driven on carefully by the tough discipline but equal care towards men displayed by the Magister Militum. One by one the Persian’s broke and eventually, as a fierce storm of sand driven by hot and uncaring winds erupted, the Persian’s wilted in the days heat and also to that applied by the ferocity of Roman strength. Scarcely any Persian left the field alive, and among those dead was Mardonius counted, one less wretched liar in which to stain the works of good men in the world.

10.Seeing themselves in such hopeless case, those that remained in Al-Hirah threw open the gates to avoid a massacre, yet the Romans, driven to fury by the conditions they were subject to, dealt out death in any case. At once was the southern approaches to Ctesiphon secured and the wealth from the trading ships from the Persian gulf came under the dominion of Rome. The Roman forces had, comparatively, suffered moderate casualties in the battle and those of the local variety were able to be replenished by way of a general levy initiated by Tiberius Secundus.


The Germanic Wars

….their tribulations may soon be over, not having seen a single attempt by their brethren to relieve their agonies, unbeknownst to them that their comrades too were in great difficulties further to the south at Sirmium. The Quaddi’s incessant attacks at the main gates had ruined it after a number of months of bombardment and the day finally came as they saw the structure dilapidated and the inhabitants unable to tend to its repair. At dawn their downed their tools, collected their shields and swords, mounted their horses and recklessly charged at the breach.

It was the sign of foolish leadership of the barbarians; tightly funneled into the one location, Jovinus Hirtius, the Roman governor of Carnuntum, concentrated his best troops at this point and as the Quaddi surged like a wave upon the ocean towards the gate, the archers loosed their volleys of arrows, set on fire, to devastating effect. The cowards barely lasted the morning before they lost heart and begun to flee. The Quaddi leader watched from a distance and saw the Roman infantry march from the settlement with confidence in their steps. Disgraced by their defeat, there was nothing for it and he charged his heavy cavalry towards the light Roman troops. With assistance from Jovinus Hirtius, they were crushed and put to flight. There was no mercy afforded those that were captured or found wounded on the fields.

[Alwyn]

I like the way that you explain how the Romans found themselves on lower ground than the Persians. The way that the events of the battle are influenced by terrain, emotions (units are 'goaded' or 'driven to fury') and reactions to the moves made by the other side (such as the 'angry flight of missiles') - this reads like an authentic account of an ancient battle. I enjoyed the flow of events - a cavalry charge forced responses from the Flavian legions, which caused more units to react - a series of reactions rippling across the battlefield. In both Persian and Germanic Wars, mercy seems hard to find. An excellent update!

[Justinian Australis]

Chapter XCVIV

Dust swirled to blight the vision of all who took part on the assault of Ctesiphon. Large river boats patrolled up and down the Tigris in their sections, drifting past Coche (Seleucia-on-the-Tigris) on the left and the outer parts and the giant fortifications of the capital of Ctesiphon on the right. Coche provided no issues to the Romans, largely abandoned as it was by the Persians who fled at the first sighting of the Romans and a small detachment of troops were posted to hold the settlement. Those who remained displayed no hostilities to the Romans. They found themselves however coerced into providing material for the Romans to use in the siege works. The preparations took the better part of two weeks, with the Emperor personally inspecting every point, attended by his engineer Licinianus, who was able to ensure that the fortifications and the defenses for the Romans were to exacting standards, as well as could be managed under the circumstances in any case.

The troops assembled in array, huge city takers before them and the Emperor rode before them. “Before you awaits Ctesiphon, see it awaiting your attention. See behind the walls the care that the so called King of Kings displays to his capital...absolutely none! Our spies report it is just the Satrap of Asuristan, and a contingent of heavy cavalry, sitting guard over thousands of subjects. Let us relieve him of that burden. Let him regret the day they antagonized Rome because of their folly and their overwrought pride, let us avenge all that have fallen to her cunning and deceit!” A din of approving shouts and cheers could be heard beyond the walls of Ctesiphon.

The Emperor gave the word and the lumbering city takers rolled forth agonizingly across freshly prepared ground. Flaming darts shot forth from the towers and battlements of those left to man the defences but it was a futile gesture; they merely bounced off the siege weapons. There was discomfort for those tasked with pushing the great behemoths into position, as the burning objects fell around them, some embedding into the hapless troops and causing injury and burns but this was the worst of it for the initial advance. Men at artillery pieces watched with interest as the city takers closed in with the walls, for they had not been required to provide support. It was not uncommon to hear among the man that they wished all sieges such like these could be be the norm. By noon, as the sun began enacting its toll on the seared and weary landscape, the city takers disgorged their contents, the men of Invicti luliani, his elite cohorts of spearmen.

Swiftly they proceeded across the battlements and begun slaughtering those that had remained in the towers, at once neutralizing any threats as the Romans advanced through the city. Flags were waved from the top of the gateway, signalling that it had been taken. Men descended the stairwells and made their way to the colossal iron gates and proceeded to open them up. A huge cheer erupted and the orders to enter the city went out. Though there was much to do for the ordinary miles once inside, the troops entered in order. The great temple of Zoroaster was the first to feel the rage of the soldiers, its priests dragged into the streets and slaughtered like cattle. Lowly attendants fled elsewhere. It was a magnificent ornament to behold, bedecked in the finest golden statues and artworks to be seen anywhere in the world. Despite the words of the Emperor upon the mound outside Ctesiphon, they decided to have their fill for the riches on offer were too great to ignore, lest others coming in from behind took their share. The optics of the defilement of the temple towards the wretched inhabitants of Ctesiphon were very hard to ignore; their God had abandoned them, their favour wiped out and the Roman pantheon was supreme and supported their great endeavors.

There was no burning` however as the troops had advanced, for the Emperor desired that the city remained intact as it would be used as the capital of the region for the Romans advance. Spiriting off whatever was not nailed down, taking slaves and killing its inhabitants however was sanctioned as a right for the soldiers to indulge in. There would be no exchange of Ctesiphon for any other part of the kingdom; Asuristan would be now a Roman province. As the men advanced, the Invicti luliani spearmen, who headed the advance, came across a battalion of paighan as they approached the colossal plaza that stood before the great palace of the King. Their stand was brave but futile. They quickly routed and fled every direction. The great numbers of Roman troops begin filling the plaza, with isolated detachments ransacking the districts throughout the afternoon and into the night.

The Emperor was pleased at the progress of the cities capture. It appeared that the punishments doled out by himself after the bloody massacre at Antioch and firmer direction by officers, had the desired effect and the men kept at their task without delving into the pits of sadism. The people of Ctesiphon must be shown that defiance of the Roman will would be swift and harsh but that they would be ruled fairly and honestly if they did not wander into disobedience. There could not be defiance and rebellion in the Emperor’s rear guard when he pressed eastwards and a great deal of troops would be needed from the region as well.

The Emperor strode with purpose up the broad steps of the palace. The eyes of the conquered where upon the intruder, of those that had remained behind and accepted whatever fate awaited them Its guards had either fled or laid down their arms and been taken into Roman custody. A mighty ziggurat dominated the gargantuan complex, greater than anything that the Romans possessed, even at the sprawling palatial complex of Constantinople. It was the ultimate symbol of the power that the Sassanids possessed, the wealth it accumulated from its vast domains in the one hundred and fifty or so years since Ardashir defeated the Parthians and established Rome’s greatest rival. The Emperor marveled at the huge archway, brightly coloured with the most vivid blue tiling he had ever seen, even bluer than the desert skies in the dry season. Reliefs surrounded him on all sides detailing the glories of the Shahanshah, with gold and silver and any other precious metal that could be found in the world, all adorned the statues and artworks of the palace of Ctesiphon. The riches on display were beyond even the most grasping, greedy and richest men of Rome to comprehend, let alone possess, that they would have even fainted at such opulence.

He slowly and deliberately walked under the massive archway towards the throne room, surrounded by guards and only essential court officials in attendance, as his senior officers went through the complex thoroughly, cognizant that few Roman Emperors had done so before. He sincerely hoped that he would be the last to do so, for war with the Persians was never easy, for they were an enemy that demanded respect and would on occasion best the Romans in the most cruelest of manners. No member of the Royal family or the haram or anything associated with it were left at Ctesiphon, having fled for the supposed safety of Media. However many court officials, who had hid throughout were dragged from hiding. There was no killing here, only the taking of slaves and keeping in place some of the officials who would be used to help maintain the city. In a little back room as the Emperor continued his inspection well into the night, he came across a slumped body, with a single bloody gash under his breast and a large pool of blood staining the carpet. A long dagger was still in his hand.

“Who is this Avidius? He does not look like a court official, perhaps someone higher?’

Avidius shrugged his shoulders and then thought to bring up one of the Sassanids who was captured to try and identify him. The harried figure of Narsieh was lead to the Emperor. He was the guardian of the bed chambers. He bowed subserviently. “That is Cishpi. The satrap of this city. He was the advisor of the Shahanshah and keeper of the Imperial stores. A philosopher of much renown in the kingdom” The Emperor sighed. He realised he had heard of this man before and regretted he had not been able to engage with him, such was his wisdom and knowledge . “Very well, do what you Persian’s do with your dead’ the Emperor said to Narsieh.

‘It is very splendid here is it not Avidius?”

“It is my Lord. I have never seen such opulence before’ he agreed.

‘It is a symbol of great power and yet we have utterly smashed them. I know, I know…” the Emperor said holding his hands up before the usual circumspect protest of Avidius could be verbalized “...that this is just the early stages of the campaign. I guess it was to be expected, given the circumstances however, the Shahanshah cannot be so mighty if he leaves the capital so exposed and unguarded, can he not Avidius?”

“I do not profess to understand his mind in anyway my Lord. He could be in Media assembling arms. He could well be dealing with those nomads in the east. There could be internal strife elsewhere. Perhaps he regards somewhere else as the most important seat of his realm”

“Do not forget though that the siege of Nineveh is still underway” the Goth continued. ‘Though we have a sizable force there, it is still heavily guarded and will not be as so casual there as it was here” The Emperor could not disagree. Its satrap Cambyses was a renowned military strategist and if the Shahanshah was not on hand to affect the outcome, then Cambyses was one man that could match or even surpass Rome’s brightest and best generals, even when outnumbered. “Avidius, I feel it is time for rest. The hour is late. Let the men have their fill and in three days, assemble all senior men under the archway. It will be time to take stock of our position”