“Oh, and Commander, if you could bring me the assassin back alive, I’d very much like to kill him myself.”
“Of course, Your Highness.” Constantine saluted again, then jogged to the back of the room, following the path that Gwendyrn had taken just a short while before. His men clattered behind, following him in pursuit of the Roman Empire’s Most Wanted criminal.
Chapter 28
Octavia
“You wish, Centurion Caesar, that you could capture me.”
“I believe I have,” the centurion boasted from the floor. He advanced on the great machine Octavia and Corbus were seated upon, spear held in both hands.
In response, Corbus slammed his hand down on a button on the complicated control panel before him. The machine whirred loudly. Octavia, surprised by this sudden move, lost focus as the war engine came to life.
“Shoot him!” Centurion Caesar shouted at her as the machine reared up.
Octavia fired the first bolt, missing Corbus’s back and instead striking his bicep. Corbus turned and smacked her with his armored gauntlet as she tried to reload, knocking her off the war machine. She tumbled down its side, bouncing off the frame of the mecha-wolf several times before landing awkwardly on the floor. She heard a crunch and the repeater fell from her hands as pain lanced through her body. She watched Corbus bound down the workshop gallery on his mecha-wolf, its mass shaking the room with each giant leap.
The centurion ran to her side, his spear clattering onto the floor next to her. “Let’s go, Senatora!” He offered his hand, and she grasped it.
Her body screaming, Octavia ordered her legs to move. Gasping and lightheaded with pain, she fell back. “I can’t feel or move my legs, Centurion Caesar. Something is wrong.”
Caesar looked her over quickly. Evidently seeing nothing wrong, he looked at her in confusion. He gingerly placed his hands around her back, prodding around her spine while whispering to her, “Can you feel that? Or that?” His fingers finally moved high enough that their touch seemed to trigger all of Octavia’s nerves. She cried out in pain. The centurion uttered a hasty apology.
He looked around. “Domina, I’m going to move you to make sure that you’re safe.” He grasped her under her arms, cursing as he slipped on his spear. Stretching, Octavia managed to grab it, cutting her hand on the spear tip. She hissed as her blood dripped down her hand from the deep gash. The centurion stumbled backward, resting her upright against a support column.
At the end of the workshop, Corbus had stopped his mecha-wolf and sent it prowling back toward them, its metal claws sparking against the flooring with each footfall. When Corbus spoke, his voice was mechanically amplified by the beast’s loudspeaker. “There you go, little centurion. A nice present for your primus imperio. Somehow I doubt he’ll like a crippled woman!” he taunted. Octavia could practically feel his exuberance through his mechanical voice.
Grasping the spear with both hands, Centurion Caesar advanced on the assassin. Such boldness from a man so outsized by his enemy, she thought. For a moment he passed out of her range of vision, blocked by various mechanical components and tool chests. Mustering her strength, she crawled on her elbows along the floor, dragging her useless legs behind her, her bleeding hand leaving a bloody trail. She had just managed to move beyond a scrap heap when she heard Caesar’s voice.
“Surely you aren’t afraid to take out a single legionnaire. What would people say if you fled from me?”
He must be stalling, there’s no way he can take out that massive machine with just a spear.
The beast whined to life, launching a sheet of flame from its mouth. The flaming liquid splattered over the manufactoria’s floor, where it continued to burn with ferocious vigor. The centurion paced back and forth, trying to find a way around the flames. He cursed loudly, throwing buckets of water, metal scraps, anything on the flames, trying to snuff them out.
Corbus’s voice blasted from the loudspeakers again. “Sorry, boy, but that just won’t do. This is the king’s own mecha-wolf, and that is Greek fire. Would you believe they stole the recipe from you guys over fifty years ago? Incredible; here you are, thinking you are the apex of civilization, and yet you still can’t figure out how to douse this flame.”
A cacophony behind them announced the arrival of reinforcements. Latin voices shouted orders as legionnaires spread out.
“Oh look, you’ve brought friends. But it’s too late.” With that, Corbus turned the war machine around and threw it into top gear. With long, limber strides, it disappeared into the snowy world outside the workshop. The centurion threw his spear after it in disgust. Octavia heard his roar of frustration over the crackling flames.
Other legionnaires moved past her, one of the first ones kneeling next to her and shouting for the medicae. She felt woozy, and her vision swam, as one legionnaire became two fuzzy outlines. “Senatora Pelia? Stay with me, Senatora; the medicae are almost here.” She moved her bloody hand before her face to examine it. It didn’t hurt anymore.
In fact, nothing seemed to hurt anymore at all.
Her world faded to black.
“Senatora!”
Epilogue
Alexandros
The drone of the engines continued to rise as the winds outside buffeted the freshly repaired hull of H.M.A.S. Scioparto. Snowflakes hurtled past the windows, while icicles had formed on the exterior surfaces despite the crew’s efforts to de-ice the critical components of the airship.
Captain Tiveri Alexandros stood on the bridge, hands gripping the guardrail as he practically willed the ship through the storm clouds outside. Going against the advice of his officers, his superiors, and even ignoring direct orders, Alexandros had brought his ship back to Nortland, forging through the turbulent winter storms that frequently blanketed the county to search for any evidence of the primus imperio and his lost men.
When General Minnicus had returned with the pitiful few survivors of his expeditionary force, he had ordered Sundsvall burned for yet a third time as the fleet evacuated him and his men. At the first and only debriefing session, the general had described how Nortland mecha-wolf riders had outflanked his army and butchered every unit in their path, collapsing the right flank of his army. He tearfully shared how Commander Appius had used his XIII Germania as a rearguard, holding off the overwhelming hordes of barbarians so that his general could escape.
During this speech, Alexandros was suspicious about many of the details that Minnicus shared-or rather, what he refused to share. Why were most of his men not bearing the standard legion equipment or uniforms? Why couldn’t he explain how he had gained new “advisors” during the expedition?
Air-Admiral Polentio had shared his reservations privately with Alexandros later on and secretly authorized this mission, knowing that the captain and prince were somewhat close. In fact, Alexandros considered Tribune Appius to be a close friend. Even so, he had his doubts about the real reason he had accepted this mission.
Come now, are you still trying to get your family off of the military and political blacklists? Or are you seriously pretending that this is because you are a loyal subject of the emperor? Parts of his brain could be decidedly mocking and cynical at times, Alexandros decided.