Legate Servius Galba stood before the grand map in the Emperor's command tent, a position he had not occupied since the early days of the campaign. He felt a grim satisfaction. The boy Emperor, for all his strange theories and parlor tricks on the training field, had finally come to his senses. When a real war needed fighting, a real battle needed winning, he had turned to a real Roman general.
"The intelligence comes from our Exploratores," Alex explained, his tone all business, a commander briefing his subordinate. He pointed to a deep, heavily forested valley system in the heart of the Alps, a strategic no-man's-land that lay roughly between his own sphere of control at Carnuntum and Lucilla's in Raetia. "They have located a new, high-value Silenti target. It is not another psychic beacon. Our analysis suggests it is a major supply and staging nexus. A place where they are gathering resources and warriors for a future offensive. Its destruction would cripple their operations in this entire sector for months."
Galba studied the map, his experienced eyes tracing the topographical lines, assessing the approaches. It was a difficult position, deep in hostile territory, accessible only through treacherous mountain passes. "A hard target, Caesar," he grunted, a note of professional respect in his voice. "To reach it will require a large, self-sufficient force, capable of operating for weeks without resupply."
"Exactly," Alex agreed, his gaze locking with Galba's. "It requires a commander who trusts in the discipline and resilience of the traditional legionary cohort, a man who knows how to keep his men alive in the harshest of terrains. It requires you, Legate." He gestured to the map. "I am giving you command of this operation. Take two of your best cohorts from the Sixth. A thousand men. You will march into the Alps, locate this nexus, and destroy it, utterly. I want you to prove to me that the time-honored tactics of the Roman legion are not as obsolete as I may have feared. This is your proving ground."
The old general's heart swelled with a fierce, vindicated pride. This was it. The chance to show this boy Emperor, and all the young, sycophantic officers who fawned over his new-fangled tactics, what true Roman strength looked like. He would march his cohorts into that valley in perfect, disciplined formation, and he would smash this barbarian nexus with the unyielding power of the shield wall. He would return a hero, his honor restored, the superiority of the old ways proven beyond all doubt. "I will not fail you, Caesar," he said, his voice thick with emotion.
Miles away, in his study in Augusta Vindelicorum, Gaius Maximus read the true version of the plan, and a chill that had nothing to do with the mountain air ran down his spine. The coded dispatch from Alex was a document of such cold-blooded, ruthless genius that it was almost a work of art.
Galba and his traditionalists are a cancer of dissent, the Emperor's message read. I cannot execute them without turning them into martyrs, so I will give them the glorious battle they crave. But they are a sacrificial pawn. You must understand this, Maximus. The 'supply nexus' is a fiction. I am sending them to a location where Lyra predicts, with an 87% probability, that the Conductor will attempt to establish a new psychic amplifier, a replacement for the one Pullo destroyed.
Maximus paused, rereading the line. A sacrificial pawn. Alex was knowingly, deliberately, sending a thousand of his own men, led by a respected veteran general, into a death trap.
The dispatch continued, outlining the true, multi-layered objectives of the mission. Galba's force is the bait. His thousand men will act as a massive, irresistible target, drawing the full attention of the Conductor's forces in that sector. While they are engaged, you will execute the second phase of the plan.
You will use the 'imminent threat' of this new Silenti nexus as the perfect pretext to propose a 'joint operation' with our dear sister's forces. You are the Military Governor of Raetia; it is your duty to protect your province. You will go to her spymaster, Piso, and insist that Noricum contribute troops to this vital mission. Specifically, you will request that her 'heir'—your newly adopted son—accompany the expedition, along with his full entourage of Praetorian 'tutors' and the priest, Decianus. Frame it as a critical opportunity for the boy to 'observe a true Roman military operation and receive his first taste of command under your veteran guidance.' She cannot refuse without appearing to coddle the boy and shirk her duty to defend the North. You will use her own ambition against her, forcing her to deliver her most valuable assets directly into our hands.
Maximus felt a knot of dread and admiration. Alex was creating a crisis to solve a crisis, using the external enemy to manipulate his internal ones.
The final objective was the most shocking of all. While you and Galba are marching, you will be shadowed by a small, covert team from my new Cohors Praesidium. They are the true strike force of this mission. Their objective is not military; it is alchemical. They are carrying darts tipped with a mild, non-lethal dose of my new suppressant. Their targets are the priest, Decianus, and the boy's other indoctrinated guards. During the chaos of the march, or the ensuing battle, they are to 'inoculate' these targets from a distance. It will be the first field test of the suppressant on human subjects who are already under the psychic influence of the enemy. We must know if the antagonist works, and this is our only chance to find out without risking our own men.
Maximus let the parchment fall to his desk. The sheer, terrifying scope of the plan was breathtaking. Alex was using his political enemies as bait for his supernatural enemies, while simultaneously creating a pretext to either neutralize or deprogram the threat to his heir, and conduct a high-risk human trial of his experimental cure. It was a plan with a dozen moving parts, any one of which could fail with catastrophic consequences. It was a plan of profound genius, and profound, monstrous cruelty.
He took a deep breath. His Emperor had given him an order. He would obey it.
He summoned Piso. He laid out the (fictional) intelligence about the Silenti nexus, his face a mask of grave concern. He spoke of the threat to both their provinces, of the need for a joint operation. And then he made his formal request for the boy and his tutors to join the expedition, framing it exactly as Alex had instructed.
Piso, seeing a chance for Lucilla's heir to be associated with a glorious Roman victory under the command of a legendary general, and unable to find a logical reason to refuse, agreed. The trap was set.
The expedition that marched into the high Alpine passes a week later was an army at war with itself. Legate Galba's two cohorts from the Sixth Legion marched at the front, their discipline perfect, their contempt for the two Norican cohorts Lucilla had sent with them a palpable, unspoken thing. The Noricans, for their part, swaggered with the arrogance of men who served the 'true' power in the North.
Maximus commanded the combined force, a position of supreme authority that felt like a mockery. He rode beside the litter that carried his newly adopted son. The boy was quiet, his eyes taking in everything, while his four Praetorian 'tutors' rode nearby, their faces impassive, their hands never far from their swords. The priest, Decianus, walked beside the litter, his lips sometimes moving in a silent prayer to his dark, silent god.
And high above them, moving like ghosts along the snow-dusted ridges, was the third, unseen part of the army: the small team from the Cohors Praesidium, their blowpipes and alchemical darts held in readiness, waiting for their moment. They were the wolves, shadowing the flock of lambs as they were led to the slaughter.
The entire, fragile enterprise was a masterpiece of deception, a multi-layered lie marching towards a fictional destination. It was Alex's greatest and most terrible gambit, a proving ground not just for a military doctrine, but for the very soul of his new Roman Empire.
To be the first to know about future sequels and new projects, google my official author blog: Waystar Novels.