The Lightning Count

THE LIGHTNING COUNT
Chapter I: Beginnings on the Rhenus



Spring 368 Anno Domini.



Snow fell around the limes, the vast swathes of trees that lay before them was intimating. The dark forests of Germania Magna were not meant for Romans. They were for the beasts and the Barbarians. There was restlessness amongst the men. The Franci and Saxones pillaged the northern shores and borders of the empire whilst Britannia was teetering on the brink. Painted faces and wild men from Hibernia and the north of the island had struck hard and fast Too fast.

He stood there, watching the last snow of winter give way to spring. The weather had finally turned in his favour. He was happy, his men were certainly happy. Roman & Illyrian legions under Comes Italiae Sebastianus formed ranks. They had been waiting for this day for too long. Winter was over and that meant they could fight. He watched over his men, he had assembled a great force to take the fight to the Alamanni. He spoke to himself, going over his plans in his head. He wanted victory and by any cost he would achieve this. An Emperor should want for nothing less.

“I bet those old men in the Senate would have a fit if they were here. The weather, the people... the smell. I think the better part of them need to come here and see the true face of Rome instead of giving into gluttony. Nevertheless we will maintain her borders and keep them in wine and their riches.”

“How are you faring?” a voice asked coming from beneath the ramparts where he stood. It was Severus, Magister Militum of his forces. One of three men he trusted absolutely. A rarity in these times.

“Never better Magister Militum, never better. Just sensing that change is coming”

“Change isn't always a good thing. We've had too much change and then not enough at times.”

“Smart words and none truer. Once we return home and make sure these borders aren't challenged again for a long time we will make change happen. And for the better. You have been loyal to me Severus. And in return you have asked nothing. You are a good man. A true Roman”

“Thank you Dominus. You are too kind.”

“Nonsense. Now tell me how goes the preparations for the fight ahead. Are we able to defend all the fronts?”

“Jovinus has his men readying for the incursions we hear are coming from the Saxones and Franci. And we head towards the Alamanni”

“And Comes Theodosius. How does he fare?”


Severus closed his eyes, his frustration at hearing that name. It was the name of one of Valentinian's most loyal subjects and much to the chagrin of Severus it seemed the Emperor’s favourite amongst his favourites. Swallowing hid displeasure at the name he continued on speaking, “He has made it to Britannia, His son and that Magnus idiot are waiting to cross from Bononia. Can we not recall them and make use of them here where they are needed instead of a backwater province that will cannibalise itself given time and be ripe for retaking”

“If life were that easy we would not be fighting battles, merely walking into Hell and asking for the keys. He is in the right places and so are we. Tell your men and Sebastianus and his to march out and cross the Rhenus. Those bastards will pay a price for Mogontiacum. Go now. I must ready my son to come with us. Gratian will be a great leader one day. I will make it so”

Severus nodded and headed off, barking orders at his men and the legions around him. They were on the move. Passing through the gates of their fort they would cross the Rhenus in force to meet with the Alamanni. Valentinian knelt beside his son, dressed in his own armour, designed specifically for him. Although less than half the size of a Legionary he was very inch a true Roman. Valentinian was proud. Knowing his son was young he did not wish any danger to come to him but he would be safe with Severus by his side.

“Son. You are the best of us. And one day this will be yours. All of it. Stay strong. You will see things no child should see but you will be better for it. I promise. If you get scared I will be right there. I'm not going anywhere my boy.”

The armies of Rome headed into hostile territory with one simple aim. To bring the Alamanni to their knees for their cruel sacking and burning of Mogontacium. To send a message to all those who opposed Rome that it would not bend nor break under his rule and nor would it when his son took the throne.​
 
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THE LIGHTNING COUNT​

Chapter II: The Orphan



Germania Magna, Spring 368 Anno Domini.

The forests of Magna Germania felt like another world. Filled with old spirits and dark Gods. This was no place for Romans but then again the majority of these men were Foederati. They were at home within these lands. Valentinian and Gratian rode at the head of the legions, they were the Empire personified. Gratian relished every step he took alongside the legions. He had heard stories of the emperors and generals of old who brought the light of Rome to the barbarian lands and now he would be amongst them. His enthusiasm for the fight ahead brought a smile to Valentinian. He was confident his son would succeed him and make the Western portion of the Empire strong once more and maybe with the East rule over a strong united empire once again. But these were dreams, the real fight right now was to bring the Alamanni to their knees and they needed to do it as swiftly as possible.

Severus rode towards the head of the column of legions. He was out of breath, as was his horse. The lack of roads to their destination was impeding their march.

“They are up ahead. Not a great force. Easily taken. But it doesn't feel right at all. I advise caution when marching towards them. They are a sneaky sort”

Valentinian smiled, he knew this day had come and not too soon. They would pay for their brutality with brutality of a different kind. A Roman kind. Gesturing to his legions they advanced further into the forests until they came to open ground. Moving through the forest line the Romans began to grow in confidence. They had come through the wilderness unscathed and ready to bring the fight to the Alamanni.

“Roma locuta est. Causa finita est. Fight until they are but a few. They will regret crossing the Limes and giving us cause to break them. Roma Invicta!” Barked Valentinian as his men geared themselves up for the fight, the Foederati especially looking for a good fight. Germanic men in the service of Rome. They were looking for a fight against their neighbours and they would have it.

“They're not moving towards us.. what is this madness? Pondered Severus as he watched the Alamanni make for the nearest hilltop. “Those cowards. We won't give them the satisfaction of retreat or higher ground. Legions move forward with haste. Cut them down!”

Rushing towards them, the Romans picked up pace. The grass beneath their feet fresh from the melting snow made it hard for their advance. They would not get away this day. The legions advanced at pace with the Foederati leading the way with Severus and Valentinian watching on alongside Gratian who was witnessing his first campaign. And it would be a memorable one.
The armies began to ascend the hill where the Alamanni had retreated over. Pushing themselves they climbed and climbed until they felt it, a rumbling from over the horizon. It was steadily approaching and began to pick up pace. Severus knew it. It was a trap. Riding headfirst towards his men Severus desperately wanted to keep the lines strong but it was too late. In the blink of an eye the Alamanni had swarmed over the hill and broke the onrushing Roman forces. It was an error, a stupid error that a lesser man would make. Not Severus and certainly not Valentinian.

The emperor rode headfirst into battle whilst Gratian looked on from the corners of the fight. “They must hold. They must” He muttered to himself as he rode towards the melee. His men ran behind him as fast as they could. They needed to reach them before it was too late. As they entered the fray Valentinian found Severus, the fight was going badly.

“Hold the lines, regroup, stop our men from rushing, they're cutting us down. Make them us!”

“Yes Imperator. Where is your son, where is Gratian?”

“He is with some of my men, he is safe.”

“If that is the case then why does he ride towards the battle?”


Valentinian turned his gazed from Severus to see Gratian and his guard cantering to the outlying skirmishes. His face frozen. There he was, an eight year old Gratian slowly coming towards the battle. Valentinian turned around and rode to his son. He could not forgive himself if his son was lost in battle at such a precious age. Gratian rode to meet his father. He arrived with a wide smile on his face, his confidence was that of an experienced commander and not an eight year old child.

“Father I have come to help”

“Turn around and stay away from the field”


Gratian's face went from glee to despair. He thought he could help. He couldn't let his father and Severus be hurt or overrun.

“I only wanted to help...”

“I know Gratian, I know. But this is no place for a child. Quickly before anything happens to you.”

“Yes father”
sighed Gratian as he turned his horse around. Valentinian watched his son ride away, proud that he would come to his aid but this was not a place for him. Yet. As his son rode to safety he bellowed out to him at the top of his lungs, “Te amo meus”

The fight was brutal in every respect. Neither side giving quarter as they hacked and sliced their way through one another. The Romans increasingly on the losing side of the battle. Neither Valentinian nor Severus could understand how they were losing. They were not going to lose. Even if death take them they would preserve Rome's honour. For hours they fought and rallied their remaining men. The tide was changing in their favour. The Alamanni had begun to question whether they could actually win this fight. They were facing an enemy so utterly relentless in their drive to win they had underestimated them.

After seven hours of fighting the Alamanni retreated, what was left of their forces deserted the field of battle leaving only an exhausted rump of the legions to celebrate. They had crushed the barbarians. But at what cost. The armies were breaking. With too few left to chase and wipe out their enemy they elected to remain where they were and rest. The victory was theirs. Valentinian embraced his men with affection, declaring them the greatest that Rome had to offer. But special praise was reserved for Sebiastianus and Severus for their steadfast dedication to their duty. Valentinian hugged them both and smiled. He was happy, the day was won, many lives had been lost for his empire and for the people of Rome. He took to his horse and in front of his men donned his helmet once more and raised the banner of the people of Rome. He was going to deliver to them their deserved victory speech,

“We have sustained many casualties today and lost many friends and brothers to the heathens. And in return we have gained a vital victory in keeping Rome safe and strong. There will come a day when you are old and grey and your children and their children will know of the sacrifice you and the fallen have made. We will rebuild, remake and reforge the legions because no matter how many they throw at us they forget one thing. We ARE Rome and we are the finest this empire has ever produced. We ar...”

And silence fell across the battlefield. He looked down, a single arrow protruded from his chest, his hands cupped the wound as his senses heightened. Another arrow darted through the air and struck him again through the chest. Valentinian's face lacked colour as he started at his men, Severus rushed towards his emperor and caught him as he fell from his horse.

“Assassin! Guard the emperor, form a wall. Hurry!” barked Sebastianus as he watched Severus held the emperor in his arms, his friend, his mentor. Valentinian choked as the blood filled his throat, he was nearing the end. Severus looked at the great man and began to hold back his tears. This could not be it. This should not be the end. Valentinian grasped firmly at Severus' armour and looked him in the eye, forcing the words out with his final breath and strength,

“Sic transit gloria Mundi... protect Gratian. Jovinus... Sebastianus... Theodosius and yourself. See he grows to be great... Thank you Seve...”

And with that the reign of Flavius Valentinianus Augustus ended as the sun set amongst the hills of southern Germania. Severus closed the eyes of the emperor and ordered it be wrapped and taken as quickly to Augusta Trevororum as possible. He was lost. He did not expect this. But he was now charged with a new duty. To serve and protect and raise the Emperor's son, Gratian.

“No one tell the child unless you want to join the dead. I will tell him. Sebastianus round up the men and survivors. Head to the Limes. I will meet with you there. I need to speak with the boy”

Sebastianus nodded in agreement, marshalling the remaining forces they prepared to exit as quickly as they had come. The emperor had fallen and on their watch. They were to blame and had brought dishonour to Valentinian and to Rome. The legions marched home. Passing by Gratian who eagerly waited for his father to ride past and embrace him. He waited and waited as all the men passed him. His face grew sad, the impatient but excited child who had ridden with his father was fading. In the distance his eyes caught the glimpse of a man on horseback clad in purple. “Just like father to return last” Gratian thought. But it was not his father.

Severus dismounted his horse and removed his helmet. His face told Gratian all he needed to know. Kneeling beside the young boy he placed his hand on his shoulder and handed to him his father's sword and looked him in the eye, both were saddened by the loss deeply.

“I am sorry my boy. He died after the battle. Rather than fight us they fled and sent one of their own to assassinate him as he congratulated his men. There was nothing we could do. I am sorry my Emperor”

“I am not Emperor... I cannot be... my father is...”

“Your father is dead Gratian. He is dead and you are Emperor in the West. He has chosen myself and others to guide you and guard you and we will not fail you like we did your father. Now come... we must say farewell to him. You must show strength now. And you will. You are much like your father. Now mount your horse. I will lead you home Dominus”

“Thank you Severus... thank you”
 
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Premise for THE LIGHTNING COUNT

The premise for this story is simple. Valentinian I dies at the battle of Solicinium in Magna Germania against the Alamanni instead of OTL surviving the battle, this leaving an eight year old Gratian to rule over the Western Portion of the Roman Empire whilst his uncle Valens to continue ruling over the Eastern portion until Gratian is old enough to rule both or choose someone to rule over the East.

Meanwhile the main characters of this story are Count Theodosius and his son Theodosius the Younger aka Theodosius I whom in this TL much as OTL land in Britannia to retake the island and restore Roman control but here he appoints his son to the position of Dux and alongside OTL usurper Magnus Maximus begins to rebuild Britannia in their own image for the glory of Rome. Where will that lead these people, who knows but that is what this TL hopes to achieve.

So please enjoy, subscribe if you should choose to and feel free to ask any questions and critique should you choose to. Thank you


-Protest The Hero
 
This is extremely well written. The POD is very original too-this is an era in Roman history that could certainly use a god TL for it. I am definitely following this, great start.
 
This is extremely well written. The POD is very original too-this is an era in Roman history that could certainly use a god TL for it. I am definitely following this, great start.

Wow thank you :D That means so much to me, it is very much appreciated :)

After reading some TL's regarding Rome and watching videos about Roman history the name of Count Theodosius struck me. And then learning more about his son etc and others. It's all work in progress but I aim to improve and add upon what I have already written. I'm hoping to make this era worth reading :)

Thank you for your interest


-Protest The Hero
 
THE LIGHTNING COUNT
Chapter III: Backwaters



Britannia, Spring 368 Anno Domini.

“How many of them? Any idea where they came from?”

“About fifty of them. Definitely one of those who attacked Londinium”

“Desperate men make for dangerous enemies, there must be a reason for their defiance”

“Comes... I know you wish there to be reasoning but there is no redeeming reason for their actions. Just greed”


Theodosius watched from afar, a scouting party of Saxones scoured the lands outside Londinium. The city had become his base of operations to strike out at the rest of the island's invaders and rebellions. But he knew it was more than just mere wildmen looking for riches. They had easily overcome the men stationed across the island. Some far too easily. He had to consider open rebellion by the men here. Theodosius signalled to his men, a unit of Batavi who quietly approached the encamped Saxones. There was no struggle as they were overrun. Theodosius smiled, any victory no matter how small was a step in the right direction.

The Saxones knelt on the soft ground, their hands bound by the Batavi who enjoyed the sight of their 'neighbouring' peoples being so easily overrun and taken. Theodosius dismounted his horse, the sight of these raiders bound was not fulfilling, it was a sign of how at times the Empire had seen its opponents, as beneath them and that attitude had cost them dearly. Even here in the backwaters it had cost them.

“For scouts they aren't as aware as they should have been. They're desperate. Barely anything of worth on them. They're getting desperate. Nothing left to raid and take. They failed at Londinium so their eyes are glancing elsewhere. Desperate fools”

“Comes Theodosius sir! These barbarians were heading towards Corinium. One had parchment ordering them to head there and regroup with the others.”

“What are we talking. Several hundred men? More perhaps? Corinium is just a civilian dwelling now, the Dobunni have made it their capital ”


The Batavi soldier red the parchment he had taken from the captive. His eyes attempting to read the words crudely etched upon it. A name was written on it, one he could not make out. Passing the document to the more learned Theodosius its contents became more obvious. The invasions and raids were not random. They were not the acts of desperate wild men. They were planned carefully, staged to perfection. But by whom. They had sacked and pillaged cities and besieged forts across the island under someone's guidance. No more.

“I want the rest of these raiders gone from this island before they cause more damage. I will return to Londinium and meet with Magnus and my son when they arrive. We will figure out what to do from there on out. We need to make contact with the forts at Isca Silurum, Venta Belgarum and beyond. The raiders are still here and if these Sea Wolves are anything to go by, they are starving as far as gold and tribute goes”

The Batavi rounded up their captives and began marching them south back to Londinium to be dealt with appropriately. Theodosius looked out into the darkness of the countryside. The emerging light of the sun began to illuminate the land, shapes forming and becoming visible. It was a beautiful sight. He hadn't watched the dawn for many years, not since he had been home in Gallaecia. It was beautiful. It had reminded him of simpler times. But that was a long time ago and he was not a young man anymore. He was getting older with every year and with every year he wondered where he would meet his end. In the distant sandy dunes of Mauretania, the wooded dark forests of Germania or maybe here in Britannia, the backwater of Rome. Unruly yet beautiful. Mounting his horse he watched as the sun finally broke from over hills and trees in the distance. A new day for him and with that renewed hope that he could bring order back to the island that had seen enough fighting. He straddled his horse and leant over to its ear and whispered gently as he rubbed its neck, patting it softly,

“Come on Velox. To Londinium and no resting old boy. Quickly now. We have many winters left in us yet”
 
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New post coming up by tomorrow night. Sorry it's been hectic in work and very little time to write. If you'll all bare with me I will have something for you all to read soon enough

-Protest The Hero
 
THE LIGHTNING COUNT
Chapter IV: Teachings



Augusta Treverorum, Spring 368 Anno Domini.

“Do you think the boy will be okay?” Jovinus asked Severus as he watched the young emperor to be train with his tutor. He was a natural at swordplay but too easily distracted when he needed to be more aware and focused. Severus swallowed another cup of water. He watched as the young boy parried and blocked oncoming attacks but too often looked towards the two for acceptance. One time too many it seemed as he fell down after a blow to the back. The young emperor to be picked himself up and in a fit of rage ordered the combatant to kneel before him.

“You think that was clever?” Do you!?”

“I am sorry Dominus... I was only following orders to train you”
he quivered, failing to keep his eyes placed on the young Gratian. The young man slapped him in the face, an act that brought great anger to both Jovinus and Severus. The two leapt towards the training area and removed Gratian from sight. Jovinus returned and lifted the trainer up and dusted him down. He was barely into his twentieth year and had earned the ire of the most powerful person in the west. Jovinus placed his hand on his shoulder and smiled, he was not angry. He was calm, serene in his manner.

“I must apologise for his actions. He is a boy. Emperor to be or not he should not have done that. I am sorry...ummm... what is your name?”

“My name is... Aulus Vibius Tullius. And it is okay, he is Dominus. His actions are expected of him”

“And why do you think this Aulus... because he is to be Emperor? This should make him less impetuous. Many before him acted this way and paid the price. And you should not accept it, you are his trainer. You are more importantly a man and he is a child.”


Aulus dropped his head, he felt ashamed, embarrassment flowing all around him. A soft grip on his shoulder reaffirmed his doubts, he was a poor tutor in his own eyes. Looking up he saw Jovinus smiling. He saw potential in the young man who had been thrust into the position of being a glorified childminder following the victory over the Alamanni. With no one suitable left he was assigned to the young orphan and even in these first few days found it more than a challenge.

“You are doing a good job Aulus. It will not be forever I promise. But let me ask you. Have you considered focusing your efforts into strategy?”

“No I had not. To be honest I had never expected much. Only fourteen days ago I was just another recruit and now I am being swung at by an eight year old with more power in his little finger than I could ever imagine”


Jovinus chuckled, he liked Aulus' deprecation. It was a breath of fresh air amongst the righteous and pompous elite that existed within the ranks of both Eastern and Western empires.

“You Aulus. You are to be my newest pupil, in a class of one. You are no longer to be the young one's sack to beat on. Severus will be in charge of that. I see big things for you. Can I count on you?”

He swallowed his insecurity down deep inside, he did not feel worthy but when would this chance come again. Men have spent lifetimes waiting to be given a chance to be within the inner circle of the powerful and he was being given it.

“I can Consul Jovinus. I am at your service”

“Good. I have many things to teach you. Now go clean yourself up, you smell awful”
 
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THE LIGHTNING COUNT
Chapter V: Role Models



Augusta Treverorum, Spring 368 Anno Domini.


“Do you think that was clever. Or smart?! Who do you think you are?” Barked Severus as Gratian attempted to walk away. Both Magister Militum and emperor-in-waiting to be were not in the mood to speak, “Gratian! Caput tuum in ano est filius nolius!”

He stopped in his tracks. The rage he had built up inside came out as he lashed out at Severus. His small fists clenched firmly pounding away at his guardian. With every punch came a flurry of insults that no child had any business knowing. The rage began to turn to sadness as with every thud the sound of heartbreak took over. As much as he tried, Gratian was a child who had just lost his father and his mother was nowhere near the wild frontier. He was an orphan in the eyes of all those who saw him. Severus held him closely, gripping the young boy tightly, he did not let go as he eased the child and his pain.

“I am sorry Gratian for what I said. I am sorry that your father is not with us. I failed you both but I will make amends. You will be Emperor. What is left of the legions will name you as Augustus. I will not fail you again”

Wiping away his tears, Gratian looked up at Severus, a man who had lived through so much and yet had no family of his own was willing to protect and guide him through life. A smile broke across his face, he was broken still but he was not alone now. Severus knelt down and came eye to eye with his ward and placing both hands on his shoulders spoke to him so only he could hear,

“You will be Emperor one day Gratian. You cannot let your anger consume you. That young man with Jovinus was only trying to help you be a better fighter. Granted it does not seem to be his strongest ability nor does he seem to have any real ability in it but you cannot throw your weight around. You are a child, but you will have to be a man now. There will be wolves waiting to rip at your throat as soon as word spreads of your father's passing. Your uncle will be made aware... Gratian... You are Augustus, you are Imperator Romana in my heart. Now go apologise to that young man and don't come back until I know you've apologised. I will be watching”

Gratian nodded, his face puffy from the tears he had shed. He wiped away the last remaining streams of tears and made his way towards Jovinus and Aulus. Severus watched as the young man nodded and accepted Gratian's apology with Jovinus nodding approvingly. It had been less than a week since the battle of Solicinium and now the real work had to begin. The legions had to be convinced to accept Gratian as Augustus. The defences against the Barbarians had to be reinforced against incursions and they had to wait on news from Britannia from Theodosius with remained quiet during this period. No word from Bononia either from the Comes' son either. His distrust and dislike of the Hispanian trio grew with every passing day, he muttered to himself as his thoughts turned to the Comes' campaign against the uprising,

“None of this would have happened if he had not been allowed to venture across the waters. I cannot hate you my emperor but surely they should have sent word back by now. What are you up to Theodosius?”








ooc: Short posts for now. Larger post covering Theodosius and his son's activities in Britannia next. Just wanted to get this section onto page.
 
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THE LIGHTNING COUNT
Chapter VI: Ignis



Rutupiae, Britannia, Spring, 368 Anno Domini.

Theodosius the Younger and Flavius Magnus waited patiently. The weather had calmed allowing them to cross over the channel to Britannia. Before they left they had received word of the passing of Valentinian during his campaign.

“Fool. If that were me those barbarians would never have even killed half of what we lost. I guess they will name that runt emperor now”

“Magnus... quiet that tongue will you. Nobody likes to be thought of as a snake. And yes they'll name Gratian the new Augustus. As long as Jovinus and Severus watch over him along with Sebastianus he will be safe. But that is none of our concern, right now we have our orders to meet with my father”

“So you're going to ignore the orders to return and reinforce the Limes?”


Theodosius the younger nodded, they had committed themselves to Britannia and to his father. Severus could handle himself as could Jovinus. They would just be bystanders along the border. A waste of their talents secondly but most importantly he was here for his father and to reclaim this island from the raiders and deserters. Riding from Rutupiae they found themselves in open land, the roads beneath their feet the only semblance of Rome for miles around.

“I'd say it was a lot like home if it wasn't for the cold air. Do you miss Hispania Magnus?” Questioned Theodosius as he and Magnus rode at the head of the two legions they brought with them, “Do you miss the pine forests and the warm days and cool breeze when the sun was at its highest”

“What I remember is your father shouting at us and threatening to send us here with nothing but a dagger and our own cocks in our hands. Looks like he can predict the future. I'll be sure to thank him when I see him again” laughed Magnus as they rode along the path to Londinium. The air of winter still lingered amongst the fresh dew of Spring. The ride was long and tedious but after hours of riding they saw it, Londinium. The gates of Londinium opened, the entire city welcomed them like returning heroes. The sight of more 'civilised' men of Rome lifted their spirits and before them stood Theodosius the Elder, the Comes and his Batavi & Heruli standing in honour.

Comes Theodosius walked towards his son and embraced him. It had felt much longer than the two weeks they had been apart. And much had changed, “Welcome to Britannia my son. And welcome Magnus. I do hope the ride was good.”

“It was long and boring and with nothing to but listen to this fool talk nonstop”

“So nothing has changed haha! Magnus welcome, I am sure you will enjoy this campaign. You've wanted glory for a long time now. This is your chance to prove it. Now you must rest. It is night and you will need”

A feigned smile spread across Magnus' face as he saluted and strode off, he was right, he yearned for glory but not for Rome. Rome was somewhere he had never seen nor wanted to see. For him it was politicians and snakes all ready to plunge daggers into one another for the betterment of themselves whilst they 'helped' the people. He admired the ruthlessness but hated what little ambition they truly had beyond the city itself. And now Valentinian was dead and his brat was being groomed to rule whilst lesser men surely would be promoted above him. He had enough. He was ready to be seen as the next great Roman general in an age where there were now two separate Romes. Both Theodosius's continued to speak on as he walked away, the hour was late but their spirits were high. The jovial tone turned serious when news of the Emperor's passing was announced before all men. The Comes declared that they would not abandon this mission despite his death. Father and son retreated to their rooms to sleep. Much was planned for their ride north and rest was essential.

The morning after was cold, a bitter frost had sprung overnight, the journey north would be harsh and difficult. The legions were prepared, they would soon be restoring order to the forts over this island and expelling the raiders who came here with eyes fixed firmly on plunder and wealth. Comes Theodosius rode at the head of the reunited legions with the goal of restoring order to the provinces. The Comes had done his research in the short time he had been here. This was no ordinary raid, this was smart, ingenious and to him very Roman. The legions and auxiliaries stationed across the island had been denied payment with many deserting and fleeing whilst others refused to fight against their invaders. There was no desire to die especially poor. The question was how could they easily swarm across the island with still relative ease and understanding. “All roads lead to Rome” he thought to himself and in more ways than one. Upon his arrival he learned that the intelligence agents of the empire, the Arcani had managed to retain payment whilst many had not. It was clearer than a summer day. After much negotiation and a fair amount of 'information extraction' from the local Arcani he learned that the raiders had been given every road, route, location and more to everything and anything Roman. Every agent was arrested and now waited their fate in Londinium's finest jail.

“The north and the west of the island are the worst hit. Scouts and refugees reporting the same. Little they come across survives. Burning and raping and looting. They came from beyond Vallum Hadrianus first and then Segontium fell. The Belgae were stationed there...none survived. Soon after it was Eboracum, Morbium, Ratae Coritanorum and as far south as Londinium. They are not a grand heathen army, just war bands that are too many to fight head on. Luckily their eyes are too big for their stomachs and that they cannot stand those they fight besides, it is our great fortune that they face us divided. They will not know we come for them and they do not know we come for them with the taste of war and Roman vengeance.”

The legions roared in approval and they marched onwards. The outposts and forts they passed were damaged, abandoned or left to their own devices. Order would be restored in all manners and forms. Britannia may be as wild as the German forests but it was still Rome and Roman it would stay. Riders were sent from Londinium with enough coin to pay those that had been slighted, to remind them that Rome was still with them and with the promise of amnesty. That anyone who would fight and still fight for her was going to be accepted with open arms. Those who chose to fight against her or with the enemy would see from them their lives stripped, their names slandered and tainted. Rome was harsh in her vengeance but fair in her treatment if th right man was in charge,

“Four days ride to Eboracum. But we are too few to reach all corners. Magnus. I am entrusting you and the Iovii to head to the west and reclaim Segontium. I have all the faith in the world in you. Reign in your anger and men will serve you without promise of gold and glory. A mari usque ad mare Roma Invicta Flavius Magnus Maximus.”

“Roma Invicta” Magnus replied as he rode off and broke from the column with the Iovii following. It was now only father and son followed by the Heruli, Batavi and Victores behind them. The journey north was to be a new experience for father and son. Venturing deep into the edge of Rome itself, surrounded by the bodies of her peoples and those she had conquered whilst marching to meet their foes. Adrenaline coursing through his body, Theodosius the Younger rallied his men and urged them to keep together, to stay strong on this march and no matter what stay alive.`

“Father. The clouds in the distance `look ominous. Bad omen?”

“A little thunder and lightning that's all. I will give you lightning son. To Eboracum and with haste!”
 
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Well, that is a refreshingly different POD. Poor Valentinian I, he was one of the more underrated later emperors. :(
 
Well, that is a refreshingly different POD. Poor Valentinian I, he was one of the more underrated later emperors. :(

Why thank you :) The simplest of things bought this about. The name 'Count' Theodosius struck me and took hold as did the idea of the great conspiracy being the catalyst upon a premature death of poor old Valentinian. But he shall be avenged. I hope you enjoy :)
 
Working on the premise for chapters seven to ten with brainstorming ideas for chapters eleven through to fifteen.I have ideas I cannot wait to get written down and some I will be thinking will they fit into this world.

The next chapter will be called VALENS and will concern a certain Eastern Roman Emperor. That will be done shortly.


-Protest The Hero
 
THE LIGHTNING COUNT
Chapter VII: Valens

Constantinople, Spring, 368 Anno Domini.

“So he is dead then”

“Yes Dominus. He perished fighting a hundred men they say”


“They” Valens questioned laughing out loud, the awkwardness was not unnoticed by his advisors and all those who surrounded him in his court at Constantople, “They are liars. No my brother was probably killed by some coward. I will know the truth in time but what I do know is this. My nephew requires my help. I feel it would benefit him being educated here in the East, away from those who would use him for their own means but I fear this will be a hard task”

“Why so Dominus? You are the boy's uncle, his only relative left alive or who cares for him. You are the most powerful man in the world. You have no equal”

“You really are a sublime wretch of a man. Silence your fawning. It's tiresome. He is protected and guaranteed safety under four men, four powerful men whom my brother trusted above all else. To go against them would be like pacing your head in the jaws of a lion after smothering yourself in the blood of a goat. Idiotic on all counts”

Valens took the news of his brother and his passing surprisingly well as he dismissed his advisors and servants from his palace. He wanted to be alone. To contemplate. The doors were shut firmly and then he wept. He was alone now. No amount of 'friends' or servants could fill his loneliness. He was alone save his nephew whom now was guarded by Valentinian's finest, men Valens had fought alongside and known. But he was a world away now and Valens had many things to do attend to. Pouring himself another goblet of wine as he cried himself into a slumber, the Emperor slurred to himself as his eyes grew heavy,

“I will not let them... I *hiccup* won't... you are my blood.... I will *hiccup* protect you... I wi...”

Valens passed out, slumped on his throne as his wine trickled from his cup and onto the floor and formed a small bloodlike pool. His head would be worse for wear in the morning, confused, saddened and hungover.​
 
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I just noticed that Valentinianus Galates, (Valens' only son) is still alive as a toddler in 368 (He died of fever after being baptised an Arian in 370). Will his illness be butterflied away, with Valens instead dying around that time? That would leave Valens' powerful wife Albia Dominica as Empress Regent for her young son. Besides a different Adrianople, this would also have a great theological impact:

The history of the Christian Church in the early 4th century was marked by the Trinitarian controversy. The First Council of Nicaea in 325 had established the Nicene Creed, which declared that the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit were all equal to each other and of the same substance. The theologian Arius, founder of Arianism, disagreed with this and believed that the three parts of the Trinity were materially separate from each other and that the Father created the Son. Dominica was already an Arian and is rumored to have persuaded her husband Valens to convert to the Arian sect. In about 367, according to Theodoret, Domnica convinced Valens to seek baptism from Eudoxius of Antioch, Archbishop of Constantinople. Eudoxius was one of the most influential Arians.
Valens was one of the few emperors of the century to favor the Arians. The empress is accused, with no proof, of having urged her husband to persecute the Trinitarian sect, including persecting many prominent bishops. Persecution was common throughout his reign. Valens imposed a series of “witch hunts” in 371-372, in which nearly all of the pagan philosophers in the Eastern empire were killed.The young Valentinianus's early death was a great blow to his parents, surrounded by religious scandal and quarrels. According to Socrates, Dominica told her husband that she had been having visions that their son’s illness was a punishment for ill treatment of the bishop Basil of Caesarea. Basil was a prominent orthodox leader who opposed the emperor's semi-Arian beliefs. When asked to pray for the child, known as Galates, Basil is said to have responded by giving Valens’ commitment to orthodoxy as the condition for the boy’s survival. Valens refused to comply and baptize Galates Catholic. He instead gave his son an Arian baptism. Basil replied by saying that God’s will would be done, and Galates died soon after.
 
I just noticed that Valentinianus Galates, (Valens' only son) is still alive as a toddler in 368 (He died of fever after being baptised an Arian in 370). Will his illness be butterflied away, with Valens instead dying around that time? That would leave Valens' powerful wife Albia Dominica as Empress Regent for her young son. Besides a different Adrianople, this would also have a great theological impact:

The history of the Christian Church in the early 4th century was marked by the Trinitarian controversy. The First Council of Nicaea in 325 had established the Nicene Creed, which declared that the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit were all equal to each other and of the same substance. The theologian Arius, founder of Arianism, disagreed with this and believed that the three parts of the Trinity were materially separate from each other and that the Father created the Son. Dominica was already an Arian and is rumored to have persuaded her husband Valens to convert to the Arian sect. In about 367, according to Theodoret, Domnica convinced Valens to seek baptism from Eudoxius of Antioch, Archbishop of Constantinople. Eudoxius was one of the most influential Arians.
Valens was one of the few emperors of the century to favor the Arians. The empress is accused, with no proof, of having urged her husband to persecute the Trinitarian sect, including persecting many prominent bishops. Persecution was common throughout his reign. Valens imposed a series of “witch hunts” in 371-372, in which nearly all of the pagan philosophers in the Eastern empire were killed.The young Valentinianus's early death was a great blow to his parents, surrounded by religious scandal and quarrels. According to Socrates, Dominica told her husband that she had been having visions that their son’s illness was a punishment for ill treatment of the bishop Basil of Caesarea. Basil was a prominent orthodox leader who opposed the emperor's semi-Arian beliefs. When asked to pray for the child, known as Galates, Basil is said to have responded by giving Valens’ commitment to orthodoxy as the condition for the boy’s survival. Valens refused to comply and baptize Galates Catholic. He instead gave his son an Arian baptism. Basil replied by saying that God’s will would be done, and Galates died soon after.

Galates' survival is something I am having a dilemma with. One the one hand if he survives that means a very angry Valens who will not react kindly to threats to his son from Basil and if he dies coupled with already losing his brother he is susceptible to being manipulated.

Galates not dying I think would lead to his mother having a very important role in his life as this time was the war with the Goths whilst Valens campaigned out of Marcianopolis until 379. I am thinking his loss pushes him towards eventually accepting Arianism and possibly persecuting the trinitarians.

With the Goths accepting Arianism too I am inclined to have Valens begin to throw his weight around based on his beliefs and make the church regret opposing him. But this is all speculative based on a future Gratian and his choice of religious belief too. And also of the men in Britannia as they are the focal point of the story as the Count was orthodox Christian so a possible refuge for Basil and his church and bishops with the "Lightning Count" ;)
 
THE LIGHTNING COUNT
Chapter VIII: Pitch Black



Border of Flavia Caesariensis & Britannia Secunda, Britannia, Late Spring 368 Anno Domini

“That's another one off the list. They have reaffirmed themselves to Rome. It seems these men were not paid either. They didn't fight but they didn't defect. They just wanted to survive”

“Understandable. They weren't cowards. Not all men are born of high station. Not all men are of old houses or bloodlines. Some are just sons of farmers, fishermen. Most only fight to pay for their families. Where were these men from?” The Comes asked his son as they rode away from Lindum, their ride north had been quiet besides the occasional raider ambush. Their numbers were too few to disrupt and stop the Comes and his son. Theodosius turned to his son, he wanted to know every morsel of information. Every scrap he could get his hands on was valuable to him even if it was worth nothing in the end.

“Corieltauvi, locals. The captain of the fort died whilst trying to, how can I put this delicately... He tried to ride off with their gold and they decided that his head should be separated from his shoulders for making a bad decision”

“That sounds fair. Taking food from the mouths of men and their families needs to be punished.”

Theodosius the younger nodded agreeing. They had dealt with deserters and seen many accept amnesty. They had also dealt with those who sought to take power for themselves. They had dealt with them little to no mercy. It was the Roman way... it was the right way. They had been in Britannia for more than two months now and father & son had successfully regained the loyalty of many of the forts across the island. The tide was turning in their favour. Word had spread across city to city and town to town that Comes Theodosius had brought order back to them. But there was much to be done. Fullofaudes, Dux Britanniarum was still lost beyond Hadrian's wall, presumed dead or worse; either alive and a prisoner or one of the conspirators. There were more questions than answers with every day that passed. Too many lives had been lost already in this conflict, Nectaridus and possibly Fullofaudes. Comes Theodosius did not want that list to have his name, his son or Magnus' name added. Failure was not an option.

Days passed as they camped long the borders of the provinces, the men enjoyed the rest, they needed it. Morale was high but the constant criss crossing over the island had left them tired. The march north had taken longer than anticipated but the Comes had continued to extract loyalty from his men in light of their neverending chase of the raiders and his goal of restoring order. He was never wrong and hadn't led them astray and they would gladly follow him until the end.

It was now the end of April, Spring had been here for a while and it was noticeable. The traditionally bad weather had given way to a new atmosphere. The legions and auxiliaries embraced it, many being reminded of their youths and of home. Among them was the elder Theodosius who despite the city of Lindum being near and could be used as a base to attack the rebel city of Eboracum opted to keep his men and himself in the wilds. Theodosius the Younger revelled in the sun, helping several Batavi build a watchtower. They were in this for the long haul. The sound of spring's awakening had given way to it's adolescence as new life was taking its first steps. But it wouldnot be for long. The sound of hooves pounding at the stone road beneath them echoed throughout the land. It was not a Barbarian assault. Roman cavalry rode to them.

It was now the end of April, Spring had been here for a while and it was noticeable. The traditionally bad weather had given way to a new atmosphere. The legions and auxiliaries embraced it, many being reminded of their youths and of home. Among them was the elder Theodosius who despite the city of Lindum being near and could be used as a base to attack the rebel city of Eboracum opted to keep his men and himself in the wilds. Theodosius the Younger revelled in the sun, helping several Batavi build a watchtower. They were in this for the long haul. The sound of spring's awakening had given way to it's adolescence as new life was taking its first steps. But it wouldnot be for long. The sound of hooves pounding at the stone road beneath them echoed throughout the land. It was not a Barbarian assault. Roman cavalry rode to them.

“We have come looking for Comes Theodosius. We bring word from Magister Peditum, one of the quattor custodes of Imperator Gratian. He has sent word that you and all your men are to be withdrawn from these islands. We have received word that you have retaken the vast majority of forts and order has effectively been restored. As one of Gratian's selected guardians you are hereby ordered by the Magister Peditum Severus to return to Rome and there meet with him and the other guardians. These orders are to be carried out with immediate effect.”

The Comes laughed to himself, the tone and words of this messenger were not to his liking. He stared dee into the eyes of the man on horseback and with one quick yank forced his horse to rise up, dropping the messenger to the ground with a great big thud. Standing over the clearly spooked rider he squatted down and whispered in his ear,

“I was killing barbarians when you were nearly wasted by your father on some Tuscorum wench after too much wine. So do not talk down to me, do not presume you have the right to order me around. I will return when the campaign is done. My loyalty is to Gratian as it was to his father. I will retake Eboracum and head back to Londinium. There I will give you message to take back to Severus with my kindest and most humble regards and salutations. But if you fancy talking to me still like a Tuscorum wench then I shall see to it that your balls meet with the back and of a horse. Do we understand?"

The rider was frozen stiff in terror. The wily old Comes still had a few tricks up his sleeve and a few threats. The rider scrambled to a nearby horse and ordered his escort to return south. The younger of the Theodosius' laughed as he saw his father stand up straight. His father wasn't the threatening type and knew that despite his profession he was no thug.

“Very good show. If this Comes business doesn't work out, there is amle work in the amphitheatres of Athenis”

The pair smiled briefly until a whistling sound echoed throughout the sky, a quick flurry of darkness flew overhead as the men stared wondering what is was. The Comes knew that familiar sound, the light whistle that was often followed by a thud. He looked up at the sky and there it was, a great wall of thin flying objects that rose up and arched down towards them. They'd been complacent and now they were ready to pay the price.

“Grab shields and form rank!! It's a volley! We are being attacked! They outsmarted us. Those bastards! Form rank!! Son take some auxiliaries and flank them. Be safe, be quick”
 
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THE LIGHTNING COUNT
Chapter IX: The Pannonian Reveal



Border of Flavia Caesariensis & Britannia Secunda, Britannia, Late Spring 368 Anno Domini

The rain of arrows descended on Theodosius' men. Many were too late and suffered as arrow pierced through flesh and struck them down. Clasping a fallen Foederati's shield the Comes came to his men and held his ground beside them as another volley flew high up into the air and down at him and his men.

“Cowards. Bloody cowards. You there boy. What's your name?” Theodosius barked at a Foederati to his right, a boy no older than eighteen with scraggly blonde hair and barely any hair on his face, “What is your name Foederati!?”

The boy shook, the arrows landing near to him and the impact on his shield sent fear coursing through his veins. He could not hear anything save his own breath and his heart pounding as though it was going to break through his chest. And then he heard it, a strong voice over the intense pounding of his heart and arrows pounding against his shield. He heard it again, “what is your name Foederati?!”

It was the commander, Comes Theodosius. He asked him again, barely making out the sound over the deafening confusion. He stuttered his name, never had the Comes spoken to him and never had he been in a situation like this. “My name is Chariovalda my commander”

“Well Chariovalda. Grip your sword, you're now the leader of these men”

“What? I'm no leader. Our leader is a man called Julius Civilus.”

“You see him there, that man with the arrows embedded in his head and stomach. That was your leader. Summon your courage and pray to your Gods. One more volley and we are going to march on them like lightning during the storm. They expect it but they do not know where it will strike”


Chariovalda nodded unconvincingly, he was no leader but the confusion had led to the death of his own commander. The Comes had promoted him temporarily to lead his men and that time could go as fast as it had arrived. Another volley followed and then silence.. So much silence. It was unnerving and worrying. The arrows ceased but there was no sound to be heard. Theodosius peered from beyond his shield, nothing but the fallen bodies of those unlucky to get caught in the attack. The foederati lifted themselves up and advanced slowly, Theodosius rushed to his horse and mounted it, wearing little armour to protect him he rode forward along with his cavalry. Before him he saw a large contigent of barbarians, their banners and markings were at best alien to him but familiar to the native numbers of his army.

“Who are they? Barbarians?”

“Yes and no Comes. They are Scotti & Attacotti. They make what Barbarians you have seen look like children. They are clever as they are vile. Attacotti bastard killed my brother when they raided along the western shore. Cannibals too.”

“How did they manage to flank us. We had scouts here. Where are they?!”

“I believe they're there sir. In the trees”


Theodosius turned to see them, every scout he had sent hung by their necks from an old oak tree. Their stomachs cut open and their hands and feet severed and placed in a pile. The sight sickened him, they were brutalised and their honour stripped and taken from them by force. No man, Roman or barbarian deserved this fate. He ordered the bodies to be cut down and buried. Their families would be compensated for their loss and avenged if he had his way. The barbarians facing them did not move. They numbered in the thousands, an army of six thousand but not the full host. They were not here for a fight.

“Those bastards. They're taunting us filii meretricum. They'll regret this”

“Sir your son has returned and he is not alone!”

The Comes turned and faced the bodies once more as his men cut the dead down. He would see they would be given proper burials. As he began to rode he heard the sound of drums and horns being played, the barbarians were marching north to Eboracum and beyond. The Comes bit his tongue, he did not want his men seeing him lose his composure. He had to set an example.He was Rome.

The younger of the Theodosius' returned and with him he brought a large number of men, some bound and other not. They were a mix of natives, Saxones and even some Franks. The son smiled, there was a silver lining to this incident. They had caught one of the leaders of the conspiracy. The Comes rode to his son and greeted him, catching the gaze of one of the prisoners, a man covered in furs, unkempt but not of this land or even the north. He was Roman.

“Say your name citizen?”

“Citizen... it has been a long time since someone referred to me as that. I am no citizen of Rome. I am Valentinus of Pannonia or I was, this is my home now.”

“Exile. And usurper. And once again in Roman chains. Your life is an unlucky lot.”

“So you say but you've faced his forces or part of them. And I'm the only one who knows his plans and whereabouts”

“Whose plans?” The Comes asked, Valentinus smirked as he looked into his eyes, Theodosius asked once more, “Whose plans? Tell me or I swear to God”

“Which one. So many Gods and not enough time to worship. Your reputation as a warrior and thinker are known all over but you seem especially dulled in the senses. Think. Who could orchestrate an invasion this big. Would have to be someone with knowledge of the island and with enough control to get it done with ease...”

“...Fullofaudes”

“One and the same”
 
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