A Narrative History of Byzantium, Book 1: Gloria Sine Fine

[HistoryDude]

As Albinus pondered things, Luwia got up and left the command tent. Presumably, he didn’t want to sit in awkward silence for a long while.

Albinus wondered how receptive certain factions in the Sassanid Empire would be to an entreaty of the kind that Luwia had suggested. The main problem was simple - figuring out how to contact them in the middle of a battle. The problem was simple, but the solution would never be that. He would need to ask advice from someone about this, but there was no one present to be trusted.

Hopefully these interviews revealed someone whose loyalties he could be certain of but that had still had good advice to give him. That was unlikely, but it was possible. A man could hope, even if he believes it to be in vain.

Albinus actually did have people whom he trusted to share goals with him. The problem was that they were either in a different legion, dead, or stranded with the rest of the Legio I Armeniaca. He’d be with them if he could. His own legion was a flock of wolves… though it had its uses at the moment.

After having that thought, Albinus looked up and noticed that Luwia had left. That meant that he could begin his second interview. Yes, he would get all of these interviews done as quickly as possible and then begin the mission. The Armeniaca could already be getting destroyed!

However, he quickly realized that those were emotional thoughts, not rational ones. Rushing the interviews could easily end in disaster. He might end up trusting people that he shouldn’t… or, worse, not trusting people that he should trust. That would defeat the entire point of the interviews. And this mission couldn’t end in betrayal… and, by extent, destruction.

An unbiased observer would point out that Albinus wasn’t exactly unbiased himself. His own biases might cause exactly the thing he feared anyway, and they may already have done so. An unbiased observer might suggest to trust Luwia, given that his advice was genuinely good advice, and the reason why Albinus refused to trust him was due to his own biases. Of course, Albinus could be correct, and it was unlikely that he would listen to such a hypothetical person anyway.

Still, the fact that Albinus wasn’t getting a second opinion at all could come back to bite him. Of course, there likely wasn’t anyone Albinus would trust to fact check anyway.

Albinus looked down at his interview list. He’d already interviewed Luwia, which meant that the next person to interview was a man named Xenophon. If his name reflected his personality, then he was a loyal Greek through and through. This should be an interesting interview…

His previous interview with the Anatolian man did tell Albinus two things. First, he needed to direct the interviews. He couldn’t allow the person whose loyalties were being tested to ask questions. He would ask for advice if he needed it. Second, he was going to need to go on this mission himself. How else would he ensure the loyalty of those he sent?

The Dark Lady observed all of this, and she got more than enough information from Albinus’s mind. It was always useful to know other players in the game, after all. She should stay here, in the shadows, where no one could see her. This event could be a wellspring of information about those who could be used in her plans.

 

[HistoryDude]

Albinus, of course, knew nothing of the Dark Lady’s plans (that was how She liked things). He knew not of his use as a pawn, only that he was a player of the game - a game that he fully intended to win. Oh, at the moment his only goal was to defeat his empire’s Persian enemies, but he would need something to do after that. And he already knew what it was, deep down. He wished to serve his empire’s best interests. At the moment, that meant keeping a regime friendly to reconquest on the throne.

He smiled, but it was no friendly thing. That smile spoke of the pain that awaited those who crossed him. The Dark Lady approved, and She influenced him to get a move on. The interesting part had barely even started, after all.

Albinus, unaware of Her presence, complied anyway. These interviews were a waste of time better spent saving his comrades. Loyalty was a necessary thing, but it should not have been conditional. In the Eastern Roman Empire, it was, and that irritated Albinus far more than he liked to admit, even to himself.

An army should be made up of trustworthy men. The commander should be able to count on his subordinates to not backstab him as soon as it became convenient. That forced commanders of Eastern Roman armies to watch everyone that ostensibly served them. It forced an army structure that should have been simple into an impossibly complicated thing.

And, most importantly, it led to the deaths of all unweary men. It led to the deaths of all unweary leaders. And it led to the breakdown of trust. An army that refused to be loyal was no army at all. In truth, it wasn’t much of anything.

Yeah. Albinus didn’t have the highest opinion of the Eastern Roman organizational system or of other human beings in general. Hopefully, however, Xenophon would be someone that he was able to trust. Even “trust”, in this case, meant “trust to be a fool and/or very predictable”.

Albinus got up and called his next volunteer in. He hadn’t initially known how to start this conversation, but he had decided to do “research” on all potential volunteers. That way, he wouldn’t be surprised by anything. After all, he had checked all of their previous interactions with him or authority of any kind. What could he possibly not know, having done that? Nothing would have been kept from him.

From all appearances, Xenophon looked like an ordinary soldier. Albinus knew that he hated the Sassanids a bit more than most from his… “background check”, but that was fine. It just meant that he was even less likely to betray the Three Legions to the enemy - or at least to this enemy. In this case, that was an advantage, not a liability (whether or not it would remain an advantage was the question, but Albinus generally didn’t think ahead).

“Well,” Albinus began. “It seems as if the Sassanids killed your family, and you want revenge on them for that.”

“Yes,” Xenophon agreed unflinchingly. Albinus admired his ability to act as if he didn’t care about things like this, honestly. “They did. For that, they must be… punished.”

 

[HistoryDude]

Of course they had to. The Sassanids were his current enemies. Still, something about the way Xenophon said that sentence made Albinus uneasy. He sounded as if he wanted to use a word much worse than “punished”. He sounded like he wouldn’t care - indeed, he might even be happy - if all subjects of the Sassanids - no, anyone even remotely associated with a Sassanid subject at all - were exterminated to a man. He might not even care if they were killed off entirely - men, women, and children.

Albinus would definitely need to watch this man. No, he didn’t need to watch him for betrayal… he needed to watch him for going too far. War was a dirty business, but it did still have a few rules that most people - and certainly all civilized people - agreed on. Breaking those rules would have devastating consequences. Consequences that the Eastern Roman Empire as a whole might not be able to bear.

Still, outright alienating a potential ally was a bad idea too… so Albinus would have to word his response very carefully. Nothing too alienating, but nothing that implied that he was okay with what he thought Xenophon wished to do.

“Indeed,” Albinus began cautiously. “The Sassanids are our enemies. Betrayal won’t be tolerated… but neither will needless cruelty. Nobody really likes this endless conflict with whoever controls Persia, but we continue fighting it anyway. Do you know why?”

“Because the Persians are sore losers,” Xenophon replied. “They refused to accept that their age was over when the great Alexander conquered them. Once his successors weakened, they revolted. They have not learned obedience to their betters… the Greeks. Greece seized Persia once, and there can never be peace until Greece seizes Persia again. Neither side will allow it. Ever.”

That was… well, it was certainly an interesting interpretation of history. It sounded fine on the surface, but it also sounded like a very slippery slope. There was a line between “peace is rare between these two peoples” and “peace is impossible between these two peoples”. The latter was far more deterministic than the former.

Really, that was Albinus’s problem with this idea. Albinus didn’t believe in fate. He thought that all men made their own destiny. That was their gift from the Almighty… something granted even before the Resurrection. The idea that it was outright impossible for two peoples to have peace between them was anathema to his entire worldview (in Constantinople, the Dark Lady laughed. How beautifully naive.)

“I take it you believe in Fate, then?” Albinus asked. “If so, know this. I do not share your views, and I will take any advice based on how things are Fated to be nonsense.”

“Oh, that’s wise of you,” Xenophon responded, smiling. “There is a fate, but it’s not like it can be told. Destiny likes to obscure her designs from us. Otherwise, how ever would men like you believe we have a choice? No one can see the future because, if they could… why haven’t they?”

“If you truly believe in all that you have just told me,” Albinus began. “Then why do you believe that there can never be peace between Persians and Greeks?”

 

[HistoryDude]

“Because there has never been peace,” Xenophon snapped back, seeming surprisingly defensive. “And what was will be. What will be was. The circle must be kept.”

This he said as if he had recited it many times before, and Albinus thought that he might have. It seemed as if Xenophon’s loyalties might be more complex than they seemed at first, but his hatred towards the Persians seemed real.

But what was the circle? What did “what was will be” mean? Xenophon sounded as though he thought that the past and the future were one and the same, but he couldn’t, right? That didn’t even make logical sense. And that directly contradicted what he had said earlier - about fate being unknowable. If the past and the future were equivalent, wouldn’t simply reading history books allow one to know the future. He expressed as much to Xenophon.

“You misunderstand me,” Xenophon replied, but he was smiling. “You twist my words. Do not worry. Many do. History exists in ages. As one age passes, it fades into legend. That becomes nothing more than a myth, a truth buried in a sea of lies. And the lies pile up until there is so little truth left. In time, even that speck of truth is forgotten. But you had other questions for me, did you not? I can assure you of - well, I can’t actually assure that I am loyal to you. However, I can assure you that I won’t betray you, at least not now. Is not the enemy of my enemy my friend?”

“I should like to know more of your beliefs in time,” Albinus responded. “But you’re right. I still have questions about other things that you have claimed. Starting with, why are the Persians sore losers? You say that Alexander conquered them, but his empire died quickly. Did not the Parthians win their empire from his heirs? And did not the Sassanid Persians win their empire from the Parthians?”

“I began my answer to that with a few questions of my own,” Xenophon replied. “When the Medes lost their empire to the Persians, did they wait and bide their time and reclaim their lands after ages had passed? When Egypt lost the Levant - that land you consider holy - did they attempt to retake it? No, they didn’t. They understood that their time had come.”

“But what about the Assyrians and the Babylonians?” Albinus asked. “For that matter, what about the Sumerians, and, even - from a certain point of view, the Akkadians? Did they not also bide their time for a restoration?”

“The Akkadians never truly regained their empire, and, truthfully, neither did the mighty Sumerians,” Xenophon replied. “Yes, Assyria and Babylonia were descended from similar peoples to the ones that formed Akkad, but they were distinct from the great Akkadian Empire. Akkad died with Sargon’s line… and Ur was no true reign. It was extremely ephemeral, and the Sumerians were intermixing with the Akkadians even then. It’s arguable that Ur wasn’t Sumerian, but that is for the scholars to decide. As for the Assyrians and the Babylonians, they weren’t one people. They are referred to as one people, but that’s just convenience. The Kassites and the Amorites weren’t alike.”

That was arguable, but Albinus still somewhat got Xenophon’s point. Besides, those were perhaps bad examples because they did fall, and the Sassanids hadn’t yet. Since Albinus didn’t want to get sucked into a lengthy discussion on history at this moment (and he would if they continued talking - it was a fascinating theory, but now wasn’t the time).

“If the Persian Empire was completely destroyed, what should happen with its remains?” Albinus finally asked. “Directly annexing them to the Eastern Roman Empire would only give us a lot of extra frontiers to defend.”

 

[HistoryDude]

“When has overstretched territory ever stopped our mighty empire before,” Xenophon replied. “We have always been large. Why should we let such considerations hold us back? We were promised the world!”

Well, it was true that the Roman Empire had frequently been very overstretched. That was part of the reason why the West had fallen and why there even was an East and West. What Xenophon was forgetting was that being overstretched was part of why Rome was weaker now. And what did he mean that they were promised the world. How did he say that while not being offensive, though? No quick realization of an answer hit him, so he decided to just wing it.

“Yes, our empire has managed to survive being overstretched before,” Albinus finally said. “But it has always been a very close call. Diocletian decided to divide the empire to deal with the many enemies that they only had because they were overstretched. Why do you think our western cousins fell? Because they couldn’t defeat the many Germanic tribes on the Danube and the Rhine.”

“That will be dealt with in time,” Xenophon said. “If it is not, there is no reason to believe that we need to keep Persia. We merely need to destroy it. We can simply give the land to others and leave the Persians humiliated and aware of their true place in this world. And who will oppose us then? Who will dare, once we have humiliated those who were once our mightiest opponents?”

“A lot of the Germanic tribes?” Albinus answered. “Once we have humiliated our mightiest opponents, some of them might think that we were weakened from that. They will probably even be right. Do you really want such a pyrrhic victory? We barely beat off Atilla.”

“The Germanic tribes will be busy,” Xenophon dismissed. “They will either be trying to keep their subjects in line or trying to build a true state. We can help with some of their problems. Did we not aid in the end of the power of the Germanic tribes in Italia? The shadows can be used to destroy our enemies in the west. The Persians are not so easily duped.”

“Which is not to say that the Persians cannot be duped at all,” Albinus mused. “I know that best of all. Also, was the Italian Collapse truly our doing? Or was it merely aided by us? I doubt it was a coincidence. There is no way that we can keep Persia from the Zagreus Mountains eastward. We could have been promised the world, but it doesn’t look like anyone’s keeping that promise.”

(“Oh, ye of little faith,” the Dark Lady murmured. “That promise has been kept countless times. Thousands of my kind have kept it. This is a fascinating empire… I’d hate to see it destroyed.”)

“Is no one keeping that promise, though?” Xenophon replied. “Rome has survived much that, strictly speaking, should have destroyed it. Of course, that is a matter of opinion. Any victory against the Persians is worth any price. We are Roman and Greek alike, really, and the Persians have always been the enemies of both those peoples.”

 

[HistoryDude]

Albinus disputed that. Persia had not always been the enemy of Rome, but that didn’t matter. So few cared about history except as a justification for hatred - it seemed Xenophon was one of these men. That meant that he was definitely someone to watch for overreaction… and manipulation. If others knew that Xenophon held this view (and he wasn’t even trying to be subtle about it), then the results could be obvious. His loyalty could be courted by anyone promising Persia’s final doom. In time, that might make him an enemy.

And, as for the promise, that was debatable. Albinus wasn’t a man to look for “evidence” of divine intervention. Attempting to discern the will of any deities - assuming that they even existed - was a fool’s errand. Who could hope to understand the machinations of such powerful beings?

(“On this count, the scheming general is correct,” the Dark Lady murmured, seeming thoroughly amused.)

In the end, Albinus responded to Xenophon’s queries and thoughts with a simple “perhaps”.

“Is this interview over, then?” Xenophon asked. “Or do you still have more questions for me? I can tell you many things… about things both above and below. Some things aren’t easy to see with the naked eye, but, then, you knew that, didn’t you?”

And, with that declaration - without even waiting for a reply to his question - Xenophon left the command tent. For he must have known how Albinus would react to his declaration. He must have known about the panic and the faint fear those words made Albinus feel.

For he had seen things that he could not explain in previous campaigns, but he had dismissed them. He never claimed to know everything, but what he had seen he had dismissed as hallucinations. For if they were real… if they were real, there was a lot of knowledge that he didn’t have, and many players and pieces in the great game that he didn’t know. For a schemer of his caliber… that was the worst thing. Deliberately putting yourself into a vulnerable position because you wanted to deny the truth was the move of a fool.

And Albinus prided himself on his wisdom.

Who was next on his list to interview? The first people who had wanted to go on the mission were going on it… if only because he didn’t fully trust either. He didn’t trust Luwia not to attempt a usurpation of the Legio I Armeniaca forces that weren’t trapped behind enemy lines, and he didn’t want a civil war within his legion once he returned. That would surely destroy the Three Legions completely. A civil war within a legion might draw in the other two legions, and, even if it didn’t, it would surely draw the attention of the Sassanid Persians, who would be quick to take advantage. And it was always best to keep your enemies close, anyway.

He trusted Xenophon not to betray him but only because of his hate. Xenophon wouldn’t betray him because any betrayal would ultimately aid the Sassanids, and that would never be allowed. Having somebody that he could trust not to betray him was always a good move, but Albinus didn’t trust Xenophon. Not truly. Any alliance built on hate was… not stable. It had a high chance of ending in utter disaster.

 

[HistoryDude]

Hopefully everybody else in this legion, or at least those who volunteered for this mission, were less… interesting characters. Or at least less publicly and vocally interesting characters. If they weren’t, Albinus would be really annoyed because, honestly, what were the chances that all the quiet ones were trapped in the other Legio I Armeniaca right now?

(“Hahahaha,” the Dark Lady laughed. “Very much, my dear. Very much… not that there are that many quiet ones in that legion at all. Where else would the coming drama come from?)

Okay, so the next name on his list was Adrastos. For Albinus, this didn’t draw any automatic mental images, so he assumed that they’d never really met. That didn’t matter - there would be a comprehensive profile of this man in his mind by the end of the night regardless.

Adrastos was in the tent very quickly. It seemed as if no one wanted to delay Albinus, which should have reassured but didn’t. After all, there was nothing saying that their plans didn’t depend on this mission too.

“Let’s just get right into the questions,” Albinus began. “I’d very much prefer to finish up all of these interviews as fast as possible, so this mission will finally start. Firstly, why do you want to go on this potentially dangerous and possibly fatal mission? Glory? Because there won’t be any of that. This is a secret mission.”

“I figured,” Adrastos deadpanned. “Anyway, this will give me something to do… and the opportunity to make some new acquaintances. And knowing your comrades is always a good idea… especially here. Here, more so than in… some other places I’ve been.”

“You do realize that these acquaintances owe you no information at all?” Albinus asked. “They will keep secrets. That is how things are.”

“Oh, centurion,” Adrastos began. “Of course I know that. I have seen many things… and very few things surprise me anymore. I have seen more lands than you ever have… and known more gods. All men keep secrets, but it is much worse here. Here, knowing a secret is always a weapon. Yes, centurion, they will keep secrets. They will keep secrets from you and I alike. They are keeping secrets from you and I alike. Knowledge is power, here most of all. And we are all being watched.”

(“Yes, you are,” the Dark Lady mused. “This empire is such a generator of truly amazing entertainment. How could I not watch? And make it even better?”)

“What do you know that I don’t?” Albinus asked this man. That question would get additional information - at least about his comrade over here, if not the secrets he knew.

“I know many things,” Adrastos said. “And I don’t know what you know. Furthermore, I don’t know what you can handle. I would much prefer not to drive my current commander insane, if I can help it. And, yes, that has happened before. A word of advice, though - the gods love betrayal. Beware of betrayers… and of betrayers of your enemies. And, most especially… beware of those who seem like betrayers but are not. On both sides.”

 

[HistoryDude]

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Albinus snapped, uncaring of how he must have seemed then. He needed to know. “Who will betray me? Why do these gods of yours care about entertainment? And were you warning me to be cautious? I already knew caution was the best course of action.”

“Anybody could betray you,” Adrastos replied. “But anybody could betray your enemies, too - no matter who they are. You knew that much already. That’s why we’re speaking at this moment. And yet… for all your paranoia, you still trust wind - for what are words but wind? And the gods care about entertainment because they are unlike your god - or at least the god you profess to worship. They are merely humans, but perfected. Perfected in their imperfection and perfect in their knowledge. They are not unlike your demons.”

(“I take offense to that!” the Dark Lady grumbled. “Completely unfair assessment. It’s not objective in the slightest.”)

“I see,” Albinus replied, before proving how much he didn’t see. “So they are merely powerful humans - and can be killed like them.”

“Don’t assume that someone - or something - can be killed - ever,” Adrastos replied, undaunted in the face of his centurion’s ignorance. “Everything ends, but that and killing something are far from the same thing. And they are nothing like humans. Humans have their morality - their virtues and their sins. Humans have a notion of wrongness. The beings that govern our sphere have nothing - or at least nothing comprehensible to us mere mortals.”

To Albinus, that sounded like religious - and, worse, cultic - garbage. There was one god, and he loved humanity. Adrastos was simply trying to convert him through fear.

“You don’t believe me, do you?” Adrastos asked, and Albinus actually almost jumped, so taken was he with surprise. “Don’t worry. You will. Almost all men are wise enough to believe their sight, and, in time, you will see them. If you can’t… then you are an ignorant fool… but, then again, most men are.”

“If such terrifying beings like those of which you speak exist,” Albinus began. “Then why haven’t I heard of them before now? Or seen them?”

“Perhaps you have,” Adrastos replied simply. “I wouldn’t know. Nobody’s ever direct in their handling of the higher mysteries or of the divine. Not all who see believe, and some blind themselves. To the rest… well, it serves their interests. The War in the Shadows rages in the heavens just as much as it does on Earth. And you know of the war, even if you don’t know of it. Everybody does.”

You know of the war, even if you don’t know of it? What on Earth was that supposed to mean? Albinus had never heard of this so-called war in the shadows. He knew that intrigue in the Eastern Roman Empire was complicated, but this sounded organized. It sounded extremely organized.

“I will take my leave now,” Adrastos said. “But think of what I revealed to you. Things are never as they seem… especially not here. And you don’t have to know about the War in the Shadows to fight in it - whether you want to or not. Lastly, and most importantly, trust not the silver tongues.”

 

[HistoryDude]

Trust not the silver tongues? What was that supposed to mean? How could tongues be silver? It was presumably a metaphor of some kind, but he had no knowledge of what silver might refer to. Perhaps it was a reference to something Adrastos had heard in seemingly extensive travels? It was likely to make perfect sense to him, but, as advice, it was quite worthless. Albinus would keep “silver tongues” in mind, but he wouldn’t dwell on it much.

It then struck him that Adrastos was leaving, but he hadn’t left yet. “No,” Albinus told him. “Don’t leave yet. Our conversation isn’t yet over. There is still more that you must tell me.”

“No offense, my centurion, but I don’t have to tell you anything,” Adrastos responded. “But I’ll be nice and take that as a compliment. What, exactly, do you want to know?”

“What war are you even talking about?” Albinus asked. “You mentioned that it was happening in the shadows, but what does that mean? And why do you think I’m participating in it? I know of no shadows that I have fought in.”

Adrastos facepalmed. “They aren’t literally shadows,” he said. “These shadows exist in the minds of men. They conceal the truth, as the shadows conceal what is made obvious by the light. The War in the Shadows is called that because it is a war that is happening in secret, and it needs to stay that way. Anyone who speaks of it must inevitably refer to it in metaphors, and every word knowingly spoken as part of it cannot give it away. This isn’t that hard. Everything has a double meaning, if you know how to word it.”

“If that’s true,” Albinus began. “Then how can I be sure that you’re telling the truth? You did just say that everything has a double meaning. How do I know that this doesn’t? And why does this ‘war’ need to be kept secret?”

“You’re learning,” Adrastos murmured. “You can trust that I’m telling the truth because I have no reason to lie. You cannot trust that I’m telling the full truth or that my words have no intentional double meanings. You’d have to trust me to do that, but you don’t trust me - or anyone, for that matter, do you?”

Albinus froze. This man shouldn’t know that fact about him, no matter what else he did know. That was meant to be a secret. People knowing that you think them untrustworthy made their actions dishonest. Of course, the fact that he did know lent credibility to his other claims.

“And as for why the war must be secret... “ Adrastos began. “Well… that’s very complicated. Strictly speaking, it doesn’t have to be kept secret. It is kept secret because it is in the best interests of most of the participants in it to do so. Some have ulterior motives, but some truly are working in the best interests of the general population of the Eastern Roman Empire. We wouldn’t panic, now, would we? Was there anything else?”

Albinus supposed that now was as good as any to ask about the silver tongues. “What did you mean by silver tongues? All I can tell is that it’s a metaphor of some kind.”

“What? Oh, of course,” Adrastos began. “It’s a reference to the Germanic tribes in the north. They worship a god that they call Silvertongue. To have a silver tongue is to be a mighty wordsmith, capable of twisting words to say one thing and mean another while having never told an untruth. I was warning you about the double meanings. Now, if you please, I’m going to take my leave.”

 

[HistoryDude]

First of all, Adrastos shouldn’t know as much about him as he did. He tried to keep his paranoia - his justified paranoia, mind you - under wraps. The fact that Adrastos knew meant that someone had talked to him about it. It could have been Luwia, who had motivation, except that did nothing to advance his cause at all whatsoever - telling others about Albinus’s paranoia wouldn’t make Luwia look better by any means, so he wouldn’t bother. Perhaps it was done by someone participating in this War in the Shadows Adrastos had mentioned?

Speaking of which, how had he been unaware of such an apparently expansive conflict happening right under his nose? Was it even a real thing, or was Adrastos just lying for some reason? Why would he lie? It seemed as if he had no intention of taking command of the legion, and why else would he lie? To spare Albinus’s feelings? Please. Albinus wasn’t comforted at all by the knowledge that Adrastos had bestowed.

Alternatively, Adrastos might be lying to spare the knowledge of something worse. Internally, Albinus laughed at this “explanation”. What could be worse than having missed an entire conflict that had been happening right under his nose for years? Especially given that Albinus valued information more than he valued anything else. The only things that Albinus could think of all involved Adrastos having partially told the truth… but not the entire truth.

Either way, Albinus needed to adapt to this new information. How was this War in the Shadows run? Who was fighting in it? How did they fight? And… perhaps most importantly… what should he do about it? That last question was answerable only by himself, but Adrastos could probably answer the other questions. Albinus would have to ask him. Thankfully, they would have a lot of time to talk as they traveled to the enemy stronghold. In the meantime, he needed to finish his recruitment.

Speaking of his recruitment, Albinus had figured out a key fact from these first interviews. Many individuals held secrets, and these interviews would give him a lot of information… but that could easily be a great weakness. If he accidentally talked about things that were between him and one of his men… that could destroy a knowledge-based advantage of his. In addition, he couldn’t keep the secrets of many different people straight. He might talk about classified information that shouldn’t get out in front of his entire rescue mission. That could be an unmitigated disaster… which meant that he needed a better idea than his current one.

Really, leading a group of thousands on his rescue mission was a terrible idea. There was another reason why this was the case, and that reason was, quite simply, stealth. Optimistically, they could get in and out of the Sassanid camp with their men without the Sassanids being any the wiser. He would need to eliminate a few people from the mission as unsuitable. He would need to eliminate many people, actually. It would be preferable if he could eliminate many people at once. How could he do that? Some kind of test, of course, but what would work?