"Are we all set?"
"Yeah! We'll be heading out shortly!"
Aelius double-checked the ropes securing the cargo to the wagon. As it had only recently been built, the wagon rolled smoothly without a single creak.
He turned his head to take one last look at the city of Aquinum fading into the distance.
"Did you enjoy your stay in Aquinum?"
"Not a chance. Still, it was quite a pleasant city," Aelius replied with a chuckle.
He had started working for Caesar last year. While Lucius Caesar primarily hired veterans, Aelius was one of the few fresh recruits with no prior military experience.
Sitting beside him on the driver's bench, his senior colleague, Babirus, pulled the reins and continued the conversation.
"Just don't go blowing all your pay at the brothels. If I had saved the money I squandered when I was your age... I could have easily bought an entire insula."
The wagon carrying the two men rolled forward. Every time the wheels struck a protruding cobblestone on the road, the wagon jolted, sending a sharp jolt through their bodies.
Aelius stretched his arms and looked back at the cargo bed. The wagon was piled high with mail sacks.
Gazing at the overflowing sacks, he remarked, "Who would have thought so many people would want to send letters? I figured everyone would just use the signal towers."
Aelius shifted his gaze forward. In the distance, a tower stood tall alongside the road.
"It is precisely because the towers are so overwhelmed that people are sending letters." Babirus replied. "No matter how fast it is, sending a signal still costs far more than sending a letter."
"I suppose that is true."
As the two men passed the tower, they waved to the signalmen stationed there. The signalmen smiled and waved back.
Aelius's eyes lingered on the crossbows held by the signalmen. Beside his seat on the driver's bench rested a crossbow of his own.
"Security certainly seems tighter than before."
"Well, after what happened last year, it's hardly surprising. I hear they have been sending out even more guards and equipment lately," Babirus said. Babirus said. "You received the training as well, didn't you?"
"Yes, I had to spend weeks drilling with a sword and learning to shoot a crossbow on the Campus Martius."
Aelius nodded. Following the incident where two signalmen were murdered, every employee—excluding the veterans—was required to undergo mandatory military training.
A shudder ran through Aelius as he recalled the grueling drills repeated every single morning. He could almost still hear the shrill whistles of the instructors.
"Ah, there's a halt signal up ahead," Babirus said.
A red-painted kite hung in the sky where he pointed. It was a signal sent up by another tower or wagon.
As they approached the location of the kite, they saw three postal wagons gathered together. Recognizing them, the postmen from the other wagons waved.
"Hey, what's everyone doing huddled together here? Did a horse drop dead?"
"Not at all!" A postman replied to Babirus's shout. "We received word that bandits have been active in the area again."
"Bandits?"
Aelius and Babirus exchanged a sharp glance at their colleague's answer.
"Tell us more."
***
"Were the bandit gangs not completely wiped out during Caesar's pacification campaign?"
"The bastards all went into hiding for a while. But ever since Caesar returned to Rome, it seems a few remnants have crawled back out of the woodwork," the fellow postman replied.
Like Aelius and Babirus, all of them wore scabbarded gladii at their waists. Every employee working outside the pomerium, Rome's sacred boundary, was issued a sword, and the postmen were additionally equipped with crossbows and armor.
"Attacks targeting the postal wagons have spiked recently. There haven't been any major casualties yet, but we need to stay alert," the postman continued. "Orders came down from the top. We are to travel in convoys of at least three wagons."
"So that is why you were all gathered here," Aelius said with a nod.
Traveling in a convoy was undoubtedly safer than venturing out alone.
"We were just waiting for you two. Let's head out immediately. The tower will signal our departure to the next tower."
Soon after, the convoy of wagons, each drawn by two horses, began rolling down the road in a single line.
Climbing back onto the driver's bench, Aelius pulled out his crossbow and set it beside him.
"Why would bandits target postal wagons of all things? It's not like we're carrying anything besides letters," Aelius whispered.
With paper being mass-produced, papyrus had become far less valuable than before. Paper had largely replaced papyrus, and it was far too cheap for anyone to risk their life over.
"It's probably because of the stamps."
"The stamps?"
Babirus nodded and elaborated.
"I hear more and more people are using stamps as a form of payment, sending them in letters instead of actual coins. Since stamps are somewhat rare, they apparently fetch a much higher price in the allied cities than they do in Rome."
"..."
Aelius scratched his head. He knew the stamps were incredibly popular, but for bandits to go so far as to ambush wagons for them...
"Sounds like quite a lucrative trade."
"And thanks to that, postmen like us have to suffer. Let's just pray we reach the next relay station without any trouble."
Aelius continued to scan his surroundings alertly before eventually letting out a long yawn. The sun was beginning its descent. The smell of trees, grass, and wildflowers drifted through the evening air.
Once they reached the relay station, they would hand the mail over to the next team of postmen and finally get a good night's sleep.
Then they would wake up and head back to their home station.
To stave off his boredom, Aelius engaged in light banter with Babirus. As a veteran of the eastern campaigns, Babirus possessed a treasure trove of thrilling stories.
"When the rebellion finally broke out, King Mithridates fell into despair and swallowed poison. But the man had been consuming small doses of poison every day since childhood to develop immunity. So when the time finally came, he couldn't even kill himself..."
Just as Babirus was speaking, a sharp whistle pierced through the twilight air.
Fweeeeeet—!
"Did you hear that just now?"
Startled by the sudden noise, Aelius asked frantically. He wasn't sure if he was just hearing phantom whistles from his training days again.
"I heard it too," Babirus replied, his eyes scanning the surroundings. "I don't know what it is, but I have a very bad feeling about this."
The colleagues driving the wagons ahead of them also reined in their horses, halting the convoy as they looked around nervously.
As Aelius darted his gaze in every direction, he suddenly flinched. Figures were appearing on the hillside near the treeline ahead.
"Look over there!"
At first, only three riders came into view. Then more appeared, until there were over a dozen mounted men. They were armed with swords and what appeared to be bows.
Babirus was the first to act. He grabbed the whistle hanging from his neck and blew it with all his might.
"Enemies! To arms!"
Aelius sat frozen, his mind completely blank. The entire situation felt like a surreal dream.
It wasn't until Babirus smacked him hard on the back of the head that he finally snapped out of it.
"What are you doing?! Move!"
"Y-Yes, sir!"
Aelius scrambled into the cargo bed of the wagon. His body moved automatically, precisely as he had been drilled.
His mind remained blank, but his arms were already hauling up the thick wooden planks secured to the sides of the wagon.
Once the planks were raised and locked into place with metal pins, the wagon instantly transformed into a makeshift barricade.
Aelius shoved his crossbow through one of the firing slits cut into the wood and took aim.
"Here they come!"
"Shouldn't we fly the kite?!"
"There is no wind. We cannot fly it! We just have to hold them off ourselves. If we do not reach the next relay station on time, the next tower will send reinforcements anyway!"
Aelius stared blankly as Babirus hefted a spear. Babirus raised his pilum, drew his arm back, and took aim.
As the mounted bandits charged closer and closer, Aelius drew a sharp, deep breath. Lining up his shot, he pulled the trigger, and the crossbow bolt tore through the air.
Simultaneously, a volley of bolts and pila erupted from the other wagons, slicing through the twilight.
***
"What in the world is this..."
"Did a war break out here?"
It wasn't long before a group of merchants stumbled upon the scene.
"It looks like a bandit ambush."
The merchants halted their wagons, surveying the gruesome scene with terrified eyes. Three wagons were stopped in the middle of the road, and the surrounding area was littered with corpses and large pools of blood,
The merchants cautiously scanned their surroundings. There were no signs of life.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, darkness began to settle over the road. They stared nervously into the dense thickets lining the path.
"Should we turn back while we still can?"
"Agreed. We never should have been traveling this road after dark anyway."
While they hesitated, unsure whether to continue forward or turn back, a low voice suddenly echoed from the shadows.
"Stop, all of you."
The merchants shrieked in terror as a figure abruptly emerged from the thicket. A man, drenched head-to-toe in blood and gripping a sword, was walking toward them.
"I said stop."
"P-Please, spare our lives! We will give you everything we have!"
As the merchants scrambled to abandon their wagons, the blood-soaked man gave them a surprised look.
"My apologies, I did not mean to startle you. We just finished fighting off some bandits. Hey, everyone, come on out!"
At his gesture, a group of men emerged from the bushes. They were all dressed in postal uniforms, heavily stained with blood.
"Looks like merchants passing through. We must have given them quite a fright."
"You... you really are not bandits?"
"I told you, we are not. Well, if you wish to 'donate' your coins to us, we will not refuse them... Hah, I'm joking! Just a joke!"
As another man holding a crossbow chuckled, a squad of fully armored cavalry galloped toward them. They were reinforcements dispatched from the nearest allied city.
"You took your time."
"We rode out the moment we saw the signal from the tower. What happened here?"
"We were ambushed by bandits, but..."
While the merchants stood frozen in sheer bewilderment, the postmen and the cavalry exchanged reports.
Ironically, the roads of Italy were growing safer with each passing day.
With Caesar's heavily armed postmen regularly patrolling the roads, it became incredibly difficult for bandits to ambush merchants and travelers.
As the signal towers were supplied with more weapons and equipment and staffed with additional personnel, regional security improved drastically.
And as merchants felt safer traversing the roads, the volume of inter-city trade surged as a result.
They had effectively become a standing army tasked with securing the roads.
"What are you all standing around for?! Hurry up and gather the corpses and equipment! Make sure to document every single piece so we can include it in the report!"
One of the postmen shouted, wiping the blood from his armor and weapons.
"You all know we get a bonus for this, right?! Write down every last detail!"
"I'm fine with the fighting but..."
One postman said, shuddering.
"I just cannot bear all the paperwork."
All the postmen nodded in unison.
***
As the postal network steadily expanded, a new craze began sweeping through Rome.
Learning to read.
The safer the roads became because of the postal wagons, the more letters people exchanged.
And as the volume of mail surged, the citizens of Rome began to realize a harsh truth: those who could not read would inevitably be left behind by the rapidly changing new Rome.
Even before this, any plebeian who had a little money to spare sent their children to school.
Of course, 'school' was a generous term; in reality, it usually meant a teacher setting up a few chairs and desks in an alleyway or a corner of the Forum and teaching children the alphabet.
Teachers were not highly respected; they were often treated as men who had failed at other pursuits.
They eked out a meager living solely on the daily fees paid by the students who attended, and they needed at least twenty pupils a day just to afford basic necessities.
But now, the postal service and the collegia had created a massive new market for them.
"I hear that new teacher is incredibly engaging and makes learning easy."
"Shouldn't our collegium hire him as well?"
As the letter-writing craze exploded, countless collegia began pooling their membership dues to hire teachers.
After finishing their day's work, citizens gathered at their respective collegia to learn how to read. This gave teachers a lucrative new source of income.
However, the teachers soon found themselves facing a new dilemma. The Temple of Minerva, newly tasked with overseeing literacy education under the recent temple reforms, had issued new guidelines.
"They expect us to teach grammar exactly as it is written in this thing?"
"What in the world is this thing?"
"It seems you are supposed to turn the pages from side to side rather than unroll them."
The teachers tilted their heads, examining the completely alien object before them.
Constructed by binding multiple sheets of paper together at the spine, it was entirely different from any scroll they had ever used.
Numbers were printed at the bottom of each page to indicate the order, and a table of contents was provided at the very front.
"I've never seen these numerals before."
"They're called Caesar numerals. You'd better get used to them. They're quite widely used nowadays."
"I hear it's called a codex."
"A codex. It's actually much easier to read than a scroll. Finding a specific passage is far easier."
But what truly shocked the teachers was the sheer number of books distributed to them. Hundreds of identical books had been handed out to the educators.
"To copy this many books... they must have employed an army of scribes."
"Wait, look at your book and mine. The letters are perfectly identical, down to the smallest detail, aren't they?"
"Are you saying they stamped the entire book with wooden blocks?"
"Stamped an entire book? Don't be ridiculous. How could they possibly stamp out hundreds of books..."
But there was one crucial fact the teachers were unaware of.
Lucius Caesar was already drafting an even grander scheme.
"The paper market is no longer dominated by my mills. Numerous other companies have entered it as well. There is no need to worry about supply," Lucius said, looking at his father.
"You mean the new mills founded by your former employees with your financial backing," Caesar noted.
"Them as well, of course. But many independent merchants have also jumped into the paper trade."
Hearing his son, Caesar slowly stroked his chin.
"The market has never been this active before. Ever since you introduced the trademark laws, more and more companies have been entering the trade."
"Yes. And through that fierce competition, the market will only continue to expand. The same applies to the printing presses. The more citizens learn to read and grow accustomed to books, the more demand for them will rise."
"Like Tantalus, forever reaching for water he cannot drink." Caesar smiled. "You speak as if that is a problem."
"Printing presses and pieces of metal type can be produced in greater numbers without much difficulty. But securing enough space to operate those presses is a different matter entirely. Rome is already full to bursting."
With that, Lucius pulled out a map.
The detailed map of Rome, compiled through his insurance business, showed the city densely packed with buildings, leaving virtually no empty space.
"Rome as it is now is crammed with insulae, temples, workshops, smithies, and storefronts. There is no order to their placement either. Everything is chaotically mixed together."
"Sounds like you are about to propose something drastic."
"We cannot keep pouring new wine into an amphora that is already full." Lucius said. "New wine needs a new amphora."
"You mean..."
"The land west of the Tiber."
Lucius's finger tapped the western edge of the map. Unlike the overcrowded heart of Rome, this area was largely undeveloped, home to only a few patrician villas.
"Trans Tiberim—beyond the Tiber. We can develop it. We can concentrate the factories and workshops in one designated zone, establish a commercial district in another, and construct residential areas for my employees and other citizens."
"You are suggesting that we expand the very borders of Rome."
Caesar stared intently at the map for a moment before bursting into laughter.
"It seems I made a grave mistake accepting the consulship this year."