Pars II, Equestris
CAPUT XI
***XCI***
The city had continued to grow since Caesar's gift. The crowds that grew to watch their advance wondered if this would be the end of such growth. Rome gave and Rome took away. The black stallion's hooves cracked against stone streets. Hundreds of eyes fell upon the man and the several hundred cavalrymen following him.
The horsemen wore the armor of Roman auxiliaries mixed with the rough garments of "barbarians from the north." The man leading them dressed differently. His armor looked decisively better made. Instead, if ]0chain mail, he wore a muscle cuirass with clear Greek influence. The exposed muscles of his arms and legs revealed that the musculature forged into the dark metal plate was no exaggeration. His bearded face was olive in color, like the onlookers'. A sword hung from his saddle, as did an Attic style helmet. A second sword hung from his baldric. Both were of fine craftsmanship. Striking to the crowd was the color of his sagum. Instead of the red standard for most officers, his was a rich blue.
It had been many years since such a unit had paraded through the City of Aphrodite. Even the oldest of its citizens could not remember Roman units casting shadows in their city as the ashes of Mummius' fires destroyed the city. A low hum of fear spread throughout the side streets and alleyways – "Has Caesar's heir rescinded our fate?" The column made its way toward the city's center and its magistrate.
The little girl saw them first. Asteria was just fifteen. Her life to this point had been relatively simple. Her father managed the city for the Romans and her mother loved her. The massive men moving toward her on towering horses did not radiate the same sense of love and warmth. The man leading them's eyes seemed only to bring the raging of the seas. Without a word, she spun and rushed into her home. Over three hundred horses came to a halt as their commander reined in the black stallion he rode. Without a word, he dropped onto the stone covered street. He turned to his mount and opened the satchel hanging from its back. From it he removed a papyrus scroll.
"Praefectus, how may I…" the woman's voice trailed off as the tall man turned to her. His face was not that of a young man with slim build and youthful fuzz upon his face; but eyes could never change. The green of the Aegean flashed brightly as they spun toward her.
"Mother."
***XCII***
Percy hated this life. His entire purpose in visiting Corinth had been to see his family again. Indeed, there had been many meals and conversations and smiles, but they were fading. Such a thing was meant to bring joy. Instead, after three days of joy he was bored. There were no grand plans, no orders for the day, no battles to fight. Is this what I've become, he thought. Without a war, am I lost? He heard a voice not his own in the back of his mind.
"You have a war, boy. Far to the north is the first time a war will truly be yours. Your command, your orders, your honors. But that is not all that saddens you." It said no more, but its echoes guided Percy through the maze of streets to a small shrine at the base of Corinth's acropolis. Unlike the other shrines encircling the temple mount, the wording of this one's title was in Latin. NERIO AD VIRTUTEM. He ran a finger along its small pediment, feeling rough marks where the words sat perpetually in stone.
"A personal mandate from Caesar," Percy turned to see an old woman walking toward him. As she tripped over a stone, Percy rushed forward to arrest her fall.
"Thank you, thank you," the woman muttered as she found her feet. She looked at Percy and her wide and weathered lips pursed as she released a loud "hmm." He did not stare into the old eyes that studied him, but his opaline eyes did not depart from her face. "You are the one she spoke of."
"Who?"
"The goddess." The woman replied simply. "I am the caretaker of these shrines, and their owners reach out to me to deliver their messages. She informed me a man of battle who struggled in peace would find his way here and I was to give him a message. The warrior who does not know peace, cannot well fight his wars. For without peace, how does the warrior know for which he fights. You know your peace, even if you cannot attain it." The old woman began to shuffle away, Percy's questions shouted at her back unanswered.
"How was your walk?" Asteria asked him. She attempted to engage in conversation, even if Percy was sometimes unable to.
"Fine. I had a weird interaction with the caretaker of the shrines around the acropolis." Her face suddenly lit up.
"How is Phillip?" she asked, the excitement in discussing whoever this Phillip was apparent.
"Phillip? No," Percy said with a shake of his head, "This was an old woman who used a walking stick." His little sister stared at him quizzically.
"A woman has never been caretaker. Where did she talk to you?"
"Near the shrine of Nerio – For Valor." The confusion on her face grew more.
"There is no shrine to Nerio in Corinth."
***XCIII***
"We cannot do this."
"Without war and defeating them, there will never be a free Greece." Annabeth looked to the tall woman to her right. Despite a name shrouded in Roman influence, she was a true Hellenic child. With her arrival had come the acknowledgement of thousands of fighters centered around Mount Taygetus. There, thousands of the sons and daughters of Greece trained with the offspring of Ares and in the tradition of Sparta, they prepared for war. "More will join when it becomes open war," she had promised.
"Annabeth, this is too dangerous an action. Octavian has won, he will solidify power." Lukas again turned on her. "If we challenge Rome, we will suffer and we will bring evil down upon Greece."
"The goddess is behind us. With her guidance, we will be victorious."
"As is my father," the woman of Sparta stated.
"And what of Jupiter, whose son we know marches with the Romans? What of Mars? Or Mercury? What of the gods that are not behind us?"
"Jupiter's son is in Gaul."
"And Rome will keep him there when this war starts?" hissed Lukas venomously.
"It will matter not. A Son of Jupiter will be the perfect of Rome. He will follow their doctrine and tactics and vary not. He will serve Rome to the end and like his father be whoremonger." Thunder rolled across Thessaly. Lukas' eyes turned back to her coldly.
"That is extreme confidence on your part, Annabeth. Dangerously close to arrogance, one might mistake it for it even."
"My confidence comes from my mother." Lukas did not reply, instead turning on heel and disappearing from the small mountainside cottage where he had made her woman. It was the same cottage where she had made him realize nothing would ever surpass her desire to accomplish the mission of her mother.
"He does not want war," the Daughter of Ares stated.
"No, Clarisse, he does not. He enjoys leading without threat of setback."
"And you?"
"I want a new Golden Age of Greece and I will do whatever I must to achieve it." The Spartan merely inclined her head in agreement.
***XCIV***
A year before her forces had numbered just seven hundred. Now, nearly two thousand trained fighters answered to the Daughter of Athena. The numbers in Sparta grew as well, though she kept that information from most. The fewer people knew of her secondary force, the better utilized they could be. When the time came, they would be at her side and she would have her army. Rumors continued to flow from Gaul of a Son of Jupiter serving as a high-ranking officer within the legion. He had become her obsession, Only he will be trusted to stop us when the time comes.
Far less information was available about Lukas. Annabeth hated assigning people to watch her old friend and lover. Whether demigod, satyr, or mortal she could not trust his wanderings. The Son of Hermes had walked from their mountain home on multiple occasions now, disappearing without warning. A rumor would place him in Thebes and days later he was seemingly in both Crete and Ephesus. The man, pursuant to his father's domain, was a traveler. Annabeth forced him from her thoughts. Too much would occur this night for distracted thoughts.
All across Greece, in Thessaly, Attica, and Corinth, her first coordinated strike against their unworthy overlords would occur. Roman treasuries and government residences would be struck by her forces. The Roman treasury in Corinth would be the richest target, therefore it held the attention of her most trust lieutenant. Secrecy received primacy over avoiding bloodshed this night. Over the last few months, her forces had begun a campaign against Roman tax collectors while masquerading as bandits. Tonight, while she slightly feared that it would reveal her resistance's presence, it would more importantly establish the ability of her forces to coordinate over vast distances. Tonight would provide the funds for what she planned next. Wars were not cheap endeavors and war with Rome was no small war. She looked to the sky, soon Artemis would rule the heavens and her forces would move.
***XCV***
Asteria sat in darkness only interrupted by the light of a single candle. Before her lay the ledger municipal expenditures and income. Her father, magistrate for nearly sixteen years, could have managed these books himself. However, this was his covert way of assuring her furthering education without outside interference. It was the education he had long wished to provide to her brother. A brother she had just met for the first time several months before. He had stayed for two weeks, his soldiers filling the coffers of local taverns and brothels. Initially their interactions had been strained, after all, she had been not yet two when he left to fight for the Romans. Now, fifteen years later they were again together, but now he had brought news of their citizenship of Rome and of his own promotion to Praefectus Legionis Her brother, barely over thirty, commanded a legion. She was as proud of him as someone without personnel knowledge of the military could be.
Suddenly a noise shook her from her focus on the ledgers. A series of metallic clicks traveled the stone hallways. Clicks that only could have come from the iron lock being undone. Her hand dropped to her waist, where she felt the only key to said lock.
The magistrate's daughter rose slowly, her left hand gripping the candle stick while her right gripped the Roman dagger her brother had gifted her. She took careful steps, moving across the stone floor more quietly than any man would have been able too. Just twelve steps down the hallway, her ears detected voices. There were two distinct tones, both whispering in Greek. She continued forward, gripping the dagger more tightly. Eventually, she found herself overlooking the backs of two men kneeling over the heavy chest that held the Roman treasury.
"Who, who are you?" She asked, willing her voice to remain steady. It did not. Instead of responding, the two men froze. Slowly their heads turned and two pairs of eyes locked onto hers. She took a step backwards, into the wooden club the third thief swung toward the back of her head.
The blow rendered her unconscious. The force of her head crashing into the stone steps, however, split it wide. Crimson began to spread underneath her still form and the three men stared. The one who had swung the club spoke first.
"We have our orders, carry on."
***XCVI***
Lukas had returned to Mt Pelion, though none knew for how long he would remain. His return coincided with the delivery of many thousand denarii from the Roman treasury in Corinth under the escort of three of his fellow Sons of Hermes. He stood to the side as they made their report.
"Twelve thousand denarii, Annabeth. We were discovered while there though. Alexander took care of her though." Her gray eyes shot upward.
"Took care of her?"
"Club to the back of the girl's head, she fell into the stone though and it cracked her skull like an egg. No damage to our mission, ma'am."
"Very well, now the next step…" Annabeth's mind refused to depart from her precisely scheduled series of actions. Lukas, however, cut her off.
"Who was she?"
"We don't know for certain," the confidence that espoused no dangers to the plan seemed to vanish. "But given our observations, I think she was the magistrate's daughter."
"The magistrate?" Lukas asked rhetorically. "As in one of the few men of Corinth who might have the means by which to assign people to find his daughter's killer?"
"And there was that other bloke," whispered one of the other thieves. Both of the other men had attempted to stop him from speaking and once he began attempted to stifle it.
"What other bloke?" Lukas asked pointedly.
"We don't know his name, but he wore nice armor and a blue cape. Stayed around the magistrate for a while before departing with a retinue of cavalry. The locals called him preefecus legenus or something," the man stated, butchering the Latin.
"Praefectus legionis," Lukas repeated turning back to the nominal leader of the growing Greek rebellion. "Your three lads just killed someone seemingly close to a legion's commander."
***XCVII***
"It's been too long, brother." The two large-built men clapped their forearms together and gripped them firmly. "I see your horsemen, but no servants or slaves to serve the commander."
"They would only slow me down." Percy tossed his helmet to one of the praefectus castorum's servants. "I also predicted if it's like every other time I've fought with a Roman army, I'll find myself a few slaves before it's over." They entered Jason's tent, where another slave prepared them glasses of wine before scurrying from the enclosure.
"What is the situation here?"
"Marcus Nonius Gallus is in charge. Though he does so little leading he probably is not worth the Senate's coin. He was a supporter of Pompeiius Magnus during that civil war. He is so afraid of exposing a flank that he does not commit any forces out of fear."
"The only way to defeat these people is to strike where it hurts, the farms that feed them, their families, and villages. Put our foot on their throat and do not let up."
"Did you learn this with Agrippa?"
"Yes, against the Aquitanians."
***XCVIII***
"We know what it is you seek, Daughter of Wisdom." Annabeth studied the men before her. One served as Athena's priest in Athens, the others represented the civic leaders of Athens, Thebes, Piraeus, and a half dozen other once independent poleis throughout Greece.
"And what is that?" she asked sharply. What I seek is from the gods, mortals should not be able to guess my plans. If I thought even a hair of my head betrayed me, I would remove it.
"Your mother has given me a sign, how else would I know your parentage," the old priest stated. "A phoenix rising from the ashes of conquest. What was once powerful will be again. Where freedom reigned, it shall again. It is our honor to support the chosen of Athena."
"And what is it you propose to support this?"
"Our cities and the resources access to such cities provides. Leave this mountain and set your base in the mortal home of your mother, direct your campaign from Athens." Annabeth recognized a power play. The Daughter of Athena running a war from the city of Athena would bring a prestige upon the former leader of the Delian League unseen since the Pericles. For her however, the manpower and capacity for war that cities such as these could provide far outstripped what Mt. Pelion or Mr. Taygetus could ever hope to provide to her forces. Because if she had come to such a conclusion in mere seconds, surely this collective would have managed to do the same.
"What is it you wish to see in return?"
"When the Daughter of Athena ultimately overthrows our Roman oppressors, we merely wish to receive the autonomy we deserve as poleis of Greece." To her right she watched her half-brother, Malcolm, stiffen.
"Individual poleis are what cost Greece its freedom the first time." Malcolm seemed to relax a little at her response. The priest of Athena however had seemed to predict her statement.
"We would form a Hellenic League, led by the true children of Greece, of course," the older man motioned with his hands toward the demigods before him. "After our victory, you could return to your home in Thessaly and lead the League from there while individual poleis rule as they see fit within their domains. Your capitol at Pelion prevents any city from claiming supremacy over others due to your presence."
"We will think on your proposal, High Priest. We thank you for your kind words." A pair of armored hoplites escorted the visiting men from the room while Malcolm, Lukas in a rare appearance, and Stavros of Boeotia, a recent addition to their ranks, moved to surround the table. The only one without godly blood spoke first.
"They could provide resourcing unlike anything we have planned for thus far."
"They could also provide problems and pitfalls unlike anything we've seen. They're playing to your ego sister," Malcolm countered.
"Without the poleis we remain a resistance, with their support we can actually man and train a rebellion with a chance of success." Three pairs of eyes turned to Lukas, two held appreciation of his words. One held hatred.
***XCIX***
"Blast it all!" Agrippa calmly watched as Caesar raged. The reports began to filter in two days before, the latest from Corinth sent him into a tirade. "Roman coin is being stolen and Roman citizens killed!" It was an incredible thing to Agrippa that Caesar included the citizenry. While he was Caesar's heir, he had never been able to endear himself to them the way his uncle had. "This is the beginnings of a rebellion, Agrippa." The more martial of the two studied the other.
"Are you asking for my opinion on the situation or for solutions?"
"We cannot move Legio XIII from Illyricum. The tribes there are too likely to rise up in their absence." Agrippa was again doing his duty. He cared little that he would not receive credit for it. He forced Caesar to see through the emotional response and identify the root concerns.
"Legio II is in Macedonia."
"The legion was gutted in the retirements," Caesar responded initially. Following Actium, over one hundred thousand soldiers had been retired on Caesar's orders at their own requests. Many had been serving since the days of Julius Caesar and their time of war was over. The costs saved also allowed for the massive building projects converting Rome to a true "City of Marble." Legio II Sabina had been one of the units designated for complete dismantling.
"Then we order them to halt the retirements, use those veterans to fill out the leadership and first cohort. Recruit anew to complete the legion's rolls as Legio II Julii in honor of your family." Agrippa knew when to play on Octavian's hubris. Once again, the ploy worked, and Caesar's mind reacquired its true objective.
"Do the same with Legio X in Patras." Agrippa nodded in receipt of his order and began to leave, "And tell them, serve me well, and I will return to them Equestris for their service." Agrippa could not help but smile. Caesar knew how to motivate men. The legion's rebellion several years earlier had been put down harshly and it decreed that the Tenth would no longer hold such a title gifted by Julius Caesar himself. Agrippa paused, not wishing to ambush the success of the evening's meeting but knowing the importance of it.
"Octavian," he began, one of the few men allowed to still call him such, "If these legions cannot stop this. What is next?"
"Begin saving coin to support the quelling of any rebellions. Enough for stores, auxiliaries, fuck, collect enough to raise another legion if we must. Actually, no, pull veterans from the retiring legions in Italia and beginning forming the legion now. It will take too long to respond if we wait. As the cohorts are filled send them to Illyricum to coalesce. If Legios II and X handle the situation, then you can have the new one for Hispania."
"Who will lead it?" Agrippa could not deny that another campaign interested him, but he was already preparing himself for a western campaign against the Cantabrians in northern Hispania.
"Depending on his work with Legio XVI Gallica in the north, we'll give it to Rome's newest praefectus legionis. How better to truly test his loyalty than to force him to march into his homeland and destroy its chance for freedom?" There was an uncomfortable glee within Caesar's eyes as he gave the order. Agrippa, no fool, had already proceeded beyond his prejudice against Perseus' Greek origins, it seemed Caesar still remembered the treachery at the Gates of Troy.
***C***
Throughout Greece, reports exfiltrated the cities and camps of the Roman occupiers and navigated the dark streets and mountain passes on their way to Athens. There Annabeth took the news and analyzed it. When analysis alone could not produce the results she required, she hiked the winding path to the peak of the Acropolis and before the Athena Promachos requested the input of the gods. It was there that a goddess answered her question, though not in the manner expected nor was the goddess the one expected.
"You are the Daughter of Athena?" Annabeth turned at the question. Before her, in appearance, was a young girl, though her aura did not match her appearance. Dark skin, akin to the Persian merchants that plied their wears in the agora, received a frame from long locks of pitch-black hair. The dark eyes never rested, studying the crowd with a wisdom one could not expect from one with the appearance of such youth. Most catching in her appearance was the circlet of ornate silver upon the crown of her head.
"I am," Annabeth wished to place a hand on her dagger, but she divined that no matter the accessibility of the weapon the results would be the same; this "girl" did not seem to be one to fuck about. The Persian-looking girl inclined her head.
"I am Zoe Nightshade, Lieutenant of Artemis, Leader of the Hunters of Artemis." Rumors had reached Annabeth on the group of youthful women who followed the goddess as huntresses but encounters never seemed to end well.
"I am Annabeth, Daughter of Athena…" the lieutenant cut her off.
"Leader of the growing rebellion. We bring you news from the north."
"We?"
"The Hunters follow the monsters that need hunted. We followed many of them north. There we discovered a Roman legion fitting itself out for garrison duty. They carried the banner of the Second Legion."
"How many? And where? And how many of you are there?"
"Nearly five thousand at least, near Philippi in Macedonia. My Lady's Hunters number seventy-four."
"To be in service to Artemis, your archery skills must be high."
"Many of our skills are high, Annabeth, Daughter of Athena."
"You could be invaluable to our cause…." Annabeth began.
"We do not involve ourselves with mortal squabbles, we protect the mortals against monsters. That is our commission."
"This squabble will determine the fate of Greek history and the supremacy of its pantheon over the imposter Romans. This is more than a mere mortal fight."
"You speak with conviction, Annabeth. But this is not our fight, at least not at this time."
***CI***
"I leave for Gaul in the coming month. My brother serves in Gallia Aquitania and sends word requesting to meet his niece and nephew."
Octavian glared across the table at his wife of sixteen years. Despite several years of trying, they had never been able to conceive children. It was apparent that she had given up on him and instead the Greek bastard had produced two of his own thus far. Only adding to the embarrassment and anger was their understanding of his position. He could not call out the affair without admitting that he was incapable of producing heirs himself. Now, more worrisome, was that the Greek bastard had been made a man of class and commanded a legion in the north. The leverage Octavian once possessed that necessitate the continuation of his marriage in order to provide social standing to the children that were not his, was gone.
"And what does Valerius think of the fact that his niece and nephew do not belong to his brother-in-law?"
"Merely that he wishes his brother-in-law was man enough to keep his daughter's attention." Octavian ground his teeth together. "I will take both children, then Publius will remain with my brother for a time to learn the ways of military leadership."
"I can…" she cut him off sharply.
"You were replaced by a man without standing or class upon the battlefield. I do not believe that sets a good standard for my son to adhere to." The choice of possessive pronoun was not lost on the cuckhold legacy of Apollo.
***CII***
After three months of maneuvering, Praefectus legionis Perseus held the Morini where he wanted them. Reminiscent of Caesar at Alesia, Legio XVI Gallica had built a complete circumvallation of the Morini camp. To his enemy's rear lay the coast. To his rear wandered the Treveri, but with reinforcements of auxiliaries and friendly Gallic tribes from the surprisingly able administrator that was Marcus Nonius Gallus, both directions of his fortifications were secure against intrusion. The camp at the epicenter of his ire possessed only a slight wooden stockade to defend it. Percy estimated that of the three thousand inside the camp, however, over two-thirds were trained warriors. Most of the other women, children, and elderly remined in the villages that had been systematically raided by auxiliary cavalry and the Son of Jupiter recently named Praefectus Cohortis by Percy.
While some had seen it as a demotion and a firm example that the Greek would not suffer the Roman Son of Jupiter's questioning of him, from what had essentially been the third in command of the Sixteenth Legion. Percy knew it was what Lucius Cornelius Jason preferred. As Camp Commandant, he ran the camp, he wanted to fight. Giving him command of an auxiliary cohort gave him that chance. Six centuries and their attending centurions now answered to the younger man, giving him the four hundred and eighty fighting men of a cohors quingenaria to execute orders on the legion commander's behalf.
"Are you men in position?" Percy asked.
"Yes, prefect. We've occupied the swamps north of the Treveri lines."
"Good. Ambiotorix," he turned to the Batavi. "Take four turmae of cavalry and reinforce Jason. Jason, in addition to the Batavi, you are to take another four centuries of infantry and four more turmae Gallic cavalry." Jason nodded. "Tribune Gaius." The named Roman stepped forward. He was the second in command of the Sixteenth. His fist thumped against his breastplate.
"Prefect."
"You will stay within the walls. When we attack the camp, the Treveri will assault. You will have just four cohorts of Roman infantry and with the remaining auxiliary forces…." The tribune cut him off.
"I will have twelve hundred men, sir. I have been fighting the Gauls a long time." Percy smiled, annoyed at his own micromanaging of his subordinates. He did not take it personally; indeed, he had encouraged such comments in the past.
"Of course, Gaius, my apologies." He looked to the second Batavi leader, "Sedullas and his remaining two hundred Batavi will serve as your reserve. When I attack from the left with six cohorts of Legionaries, the Roman cavalry, and two cohorts of auxiliary infantry, the Treveri will assault the outer walls. Gaius, you must hold them until Jason can assault their exposed flanks with his forces." The tribune looked at him with steel in his eyes. Again, his fist thumped off of his armor.
"For Rome, sir." Percy returned the salute.
"For Rome."
***CIII***
Percy's fight ended nearly before it began. Before dawn, several volleys of flaming projectiles set alight the wooden stockade and many of the tents and wagons crammed within the Morini camp. His force punched through the resistance and as the light Roman cavalry sealed off any hope of escape, the starving and exhausted defenders began to surrender. Percy immediately ordered three unengaged cohorts to march back to the fortifications and the second battle of the day. As predicted, once battle commenced at the Morini camp, the Treveri advanced.
It was there, east of the fortifications, that the air thickened and thunder and lightning dueled in an otherwise clear sky. There, behind a Son of Jupiter, over a thousand Roman soldiers sliced their way into the exposed flank of the six thousand Treveri assaulting the Roman fortifications. At the leading edge of the wedge of Roman might, the gladius of Lucius Cornelius Jason flashed in the growing light of day. His men were not the orderly rows of legionary cohorts. Instead, he commanded the brutality of tribal warriors disguised as Roman soldiers. Ancient feuds between tribes justified the killing that ensued.
By the time that surrenders were accepted, nearly three thousand Treveri lay dead. Upon the fortifications, Tribune Gaius lay dead, a half-dozen enemy warriors dead and dying around him. All together over sixteen hundred of Percy's men were dead or wounded. They had inflicted nearly three times that number upon the Morini and Treveri. After hours of inhaling the odors of battle, Percy and Jason, now second in command of the Sixteenth, escaped to the coastline. They stood for several minutes just looking at the sea, the battle had been discussed enough.
Far across the dark water, the tall white cliffs revealed Britannia. Jason looked to the praefectus legionis the sea green eyes burned as they looked across white capped waves. "What are you thinking?"
"That I see a land Rome does not own."
"Caesar took it."
"Caesar brought back promises of friendship and a modicum of trade."
"Do you wish to cross the waves yourself?"
"If I cross the waves, I will do more than bring back their words." He turned to see the blue-eyed man smiling slightly. He nodded in invitation to continue. "If I cross the waves, I'm taking Rome to them, and Rome can have their land."
"Is this a vein of ambition I have tapped?" Percy turned his head toward the younger man. "It suits you."
A/N: In a previous chapter (Chapter 6 specifically) there was a mistake. Marcus Valerius Messalla Corvinus should have been spoken of as Reyna's brother, not father. The two's father is Marcus Valerius Messalla Niger. Reyna's mother is of course, Bellona, though Corvinus' mother would have been Polla. I have gone back and adjusted the chapter to have the correct information.