The Eternal Empire (39 page)

"While you're here
Nicerites," he said, "you might as well bring me up to date on the
situation in Britannia."

Gregory took the change of subject in
his stride and mentally summarised the last couple of reports that he had
received from the province.

"The island is free of any
organised resistance in the south, but there's still fierce fighting in the
north." Gregory spoke mechanically, without emotion. He still disapproved
of the action being taken but it was too late to change things now. "The
garrison at Deva has been relieved and the naval base at Petuaria should be
reached by our troops within the next few days. The rebel forces and their
'mercenary' allies have formed a defence line about seventy miles south of the
Caledonian border. Our commander in Britannia is concentrating his forces to
deal with this and expects to clear the province of opposition within a
month."

Exanzenus bestowed a rare smile on
Gregory. "Good news at last Nicerites," he said. "This rebellion
will soon be crushed. It will serve as an object lesson to the other provinces.
Is there anything else?"

"We've received reports that the
Caledonians have begun to mobilise some of their reserve units."

"That is to be expected with an
imperial army approaching their borders”, Countered Exanzenus.  “I wouldn't be
unduly concerned."

"There has also been an increase
in military activity all over Saxony in the past two days," added Gregory.
"We have lost contact with the Minden embassy. No couriers have arrived
and the telephone and telegraph lines are dead."

Exanzenus showed a spark of interest.
"What does the Saxon government have to say about this?"

"Their ambassador denies all
knowledge of anything untoward and their officials in Saxony claim that the
communication break is a 'technical problem' that will be fixed in a day or
two."

The chief minister looked at Gregory
thoughtfully for a few moments.

"It does seem very odd," he
agreed. "Find out more information. Contact the commander of the Rhine
army and see what he has to say. Let me know if you discover anything of
importance."

With that Gregory was dismissed and he
made his way back to his own office where he immediately drafted a telegram to
Manual Dikouros. He instructed him, on behalf of the chief minister to
investigate the isolation of the Minden embassy and the recent Saxon army
movements. When he had finished and had instructed his assistant to send it,
Gregory sat back in his chair. He had managed to get Exanzenus to take some
notice of the Rhine situation, but there was very little information available.
He wished that he could get hold of Cornelius. He was probably sitting on a
pile of useful information at the embassy right now, thought Gregory.

He was half right.

1st
August 1920

Rhine
frontier, Saxony

It took Cornelius another five days to
reach the River Rhine. The difficult terrain had slowed him down as did the
necessity to take detours to avoid the increasing number of Saxon troops that
were moving into the area. He tried to move at night but soon gave it up as
being too risky. He had to avoid any paths and on the uneven ground he could
easily fall and break an ankle. As he neared the river the natural vegetation
gave way to a series of well kept vineyards covering the hillsides. Even though
they meant that he was close to his goal, the long tidy rows of vines made it
more difficult to hide. Cornelius had to wait until all the workers left for
their midday meal before quickly making his way through the vineyards to the
banks of the Rhine.

Having reached the river, Cornelius
joined the scores of people travelling along the roads and paths that skirted
the Rhine. Many of them, like him, carried rucksacks and had the rather scruffy
look of hikers who had been on the road for a while. Unsure of his exact
location he arbitrarily chose a direction and set off. After about an hour he
came across a small village with a jetty full of boats. He found a comfortable
spot that allowed him a good view and sat down to plan his next move.

Getting across the Rhine turned out to
be a bit of an anti-climax. Cornelius was expecting to steal a boat or force
its owner to take him across. However, as he sat watching the activity around
the jetty he noticed a steady stream of people who simply wandered up to the
boat owners and engaged them in conversation, pointing meaningfully over to the
other side of the river. Money changed hands, they got into the boat and off it
went down stream and out of sight around a bend in the river. About an hour
later it returned without its passengers.

Cornelius observed this a number of
times and decided to give it a try. He got up and casually strolled over to one
of the boatman he had seen make the trip a couple of times already that
afternoon.

Cornelius smiled and greeted him in his
best German, pointing over to the west bank.

"How much?" he asked, keeping
his conversation short and trying to disguise his accent.

"Three thalers," replied the
boat owner, an old man with white hair, a well weathered face and no teeth. If
he thought Cornelius's German was strange he did not comment on it.

Three thalers was an extortionate
amount thought Cornelius. The old man probably took him for a naive tourist or
somebody trying to avoid paying customs duty on some high value souvenir.
Either way it did not matter what he thought as long as he got across.

"Fine," agreed Cornelius and
fished three gold coins out of his pocket. He gave them to the old man, who
then led him to a small worn out motor boat that looked as old as he did.

Cornelius sat at the front of the boat,
facing the boat owner so that he could keep an eye on him. The old Saxon
managed to get the engine started at the third attempt, cast off and manoeuvred
his boat into the fast flowing river.

As the boat accelerated, propelled as
much by the strong current as by the boats decrepit engine Cornelius relaxed a
little and enjoyed the trip. He was nearly home now. Soon he would be on
imperial soil.

The bank opposite the village that they
had left was steep and not practical for landing. They had to travel a couple
of miles further before they came to a small settlement on the west bank with a
jetty. The layout of this village was identical to the one that he had just
left, only the imperial style of architecture distinguished it from its
Teutonic cousin on the opposite bank.

Cornelius realised that the boatman was
not planning to stop at this village and asked him why. By way of reply he
pointed to the customs shed on the jetty. Cornelius instructed the old man, in
a firm and slightly aggressive tone to turn towards the jetty and drop him off
there. The aged Saxon looked at him with bewilderment and then shrugged his
shoulders, and steered his boat towards the village muttering something about
having money and no sense.

The senior customs officer at the
village was a typical, low level bureaucrat who revelled in the power that his
position gave him. At first he refused to believe that the dirty and smelly
person before him, who was dressed like a Saxon but spoke perfect Latin, was an
imperial diplomat. Luckily, Cornelius had kept his letter of accreditation to
the Minden embassy with him and presented it to the official. From the look he
got from the customs man, it was clear that he had never seen such a document
before and had doubts about its authenticity. However, Cornelius played on
those doubts and managed to get himself sent to the local police station.

The police commander was not any help
either although he was prepared to accept that Cornelius was who he said he
was. Cornelius wanted to use the telephone but discovered that the village was
not connected. He asked to borrow a motor carriage but was informed that it was
against policy to lend police vehicles to the public. He asked to be driven to
the nearest place with a telephone but was told that they could not spare the
manpower.

In exasperation Cornelius told him that
a Saxon invasion was imminent and he had to contact the nearest legionary
garrison but the only reaction that he got was a condescending smile. Finally
Cornelius obtained directions to the nearest telephone and stormed out. As he
left, Cornelius had the uncharitable thought that he would not be particularly
upset if the first act by the invading Saxon army was to wipe this place off
the face of the earth.

1st
August 1920

Headquarters,
Saxon First Army

Franz Maleric was unaware that
Cornelius had managed to cross the Rhine. He would not have cared anyway since
it was too late to call off the attack. He looked up at the large clock mounted
on the wall of the operations room that had been set up in the headquarters of
the Saxon First Army. In less than twelve hours, he thought, it would begin.

The situation map on the table in the
centre of the room was being updated as units reported in. A series of
blackboards covered the wall below the clock and held the status, location and
strength of every regiment taking part in the attack. On the opposite wall
another set of boards recorded the intelligence estimates of the imperial
forces.

The strength of the Saxon army as shown
by the neat chalk marks looked woefully inadequate for the task ahead, but as
the evening drew on, the regiments would be filled out by men quietly called
from their homes. Trains were on their way from the interior, and would arrive
at stations all along the frontier where men would be matched up with the
secret caches of equipment. At airfields all over the western half of Saxony,
aircraft that had flown in over the past few days and had been carefully hidden
since then, were being checked, fuelled and armed.

At five o'clock the next morning the
Saxon ambassador in Constantinople would deliver the declaration of war. Franz
personally considered it a total waste of time, but the King had insisted.
Anyway the advance teams would have already started their attack.

Franz felt good as he watched the well
oiled machine of the army staff go about their business. Perversely, the theft
of the plans had worked in his favour. Godisger had given him a temporary
promotion to Deputy Army Chief of Staff which effectively put him in charge of
the invasion. Franz decided that if he ever met Katherine's Roman 'boyfriend'
again he must not forget to thank him - before putting a bullet between his
eyes.

1st
August 1920

Along
the Rhine

Cornelius got to the small post office
which housed the only telephone in the area just before it closed. He tried to
call his uncles villa, but was told that he was not there. He tried the
headquarters of the legio I Germanica next. His uncle was not there either but
he was able to get hold of one of the tribunes whom he had met on the way back
from his trip to Constantinople. Cornelius briefly explained what had happened
and said that the Saxons could attack anytime. The tribune, although sceptical,
said that he would send a motor carriage to pick him up and would contact his
uncle.

It was getting dark when Cornelius
finally reached the headquarters. Tiberius Petronius had just arrived and was
shocked to see the state that his nephew was in. Cornelius refused the offer to
take a bath straight away, taking the plans out of his rucksack and spreading
them out over his uncles’ desk instead.

"What are these?" asked
Tiberius.

"Copies of the Saxon invasion
plan," replied Cornelius. "The attack could start any day now. I saw
them concentrating troops in the woods and preparing their heavy equipment for
use."

Tiberius began to search though the
documents before him, glancing up every now and then to look at Cornelius.
These papers were a gold mine of information for the intelligence section,
thought Tiberius, but if his nephew was correct there was a more pressing
matter.

"Are you certain the Saxons are
going to attack?"

"Yes," confirmed Cornelius,
"I'm very certain."

Tiberius turned to the other officers
in the room.

"Put the legion on a war footing
immediately. Deploy all units from their barracks to defensive positions and
alert all airfields and auxiliary cohorts in our area."

The officers saluted and left the room
to implement the orders. Tiberius turned to his orderly standing nearby.

"Get me General Dikouros on the
telephone now! I don't care where he is or who's he with. Just get him!"

The soldier rushed off to the switch
board, situated in a room next to Tiberius's office.

"Well Cornelius my boy," he
said to his nephew, who was sitting in a chair on the other side of the desk,
"I hope that you're wrong and the Saxons don't attack, but if they do
we'll be ready for them."

One of the tribunes that Tiberius had
sent out with orders earlier reappeared in the doorway.