CW for sexual assault.
Where do I even start with this book.
How about the low-hanging fruit then: the violence. I'm not by any means squeamish, but the violence was so excessive it became boring. Yadda yadda, here's two pages of brutal dismemberment, yadda yadda, two more. It doesn't advance the plot, it doesn't develop the characters, it's just gorn for the sake of gorn.
And then there's the sexual violence.
In this entire book, there are only two (or three, depending on how you count Great Lady Holi) named female characters, and barely any unnamed, who are not a) sex workers/former sex workers b) survivors of sexual violence c) both. Usually both. The amount of rape is entirely unnecessary, wholly pervasive throughout the book, and viscerally off-putting. Let's not forget the scene where two of the good guys are implied to be discussing having sex with a woman too drunk to consent, either. Or the part where a teenage boy - still very much treated as a child by the characters and the narrative - is pressured into having sex he doesn't want to have for months by adult men, who tell him to stop complaining because he should be happy to be sleeping with so many women. And of course, Antonina, whom the narrative can't go more than two paragraphs without informing us that she's a whore. (She's not, technically. She used to be one.) In fact, one of her first markers as to why Belisarius is Such a Good Guy is that he's the only man that doesn't call her a whore! (Until he does).
*I'd like at this point to put in a prediction that Irene, one of the two women who has so far escaped being a rape victim, will in a future book get brutalized by a gang of thugs, lose her joie-de-vivre, get nursed back to health thanks to her former employer-and-pretend-paramour-Sittas (whether he discovers unseen depths of sensitivity, or shocks her back into her old self by being boorish and unsympathetic), and then she falls in love with him.
Sometimes the women get their crack at excessive bloodshed too. Except, unerringly, it plays out like this - a woman is in a trapped situation. She starts fighting multiple attackers. She does brutally well until - oh no! She's overstepped herself. She's about to be murdered/brutalized/etc. And then! a male character swoops in to save her.
Equally pornographic, in some ways, is the way this book fetishizes Western military tactics and the supposedly "infernally clever" mind of Belisarius. Belisarius is not an incredibly intelligent character. He is a character of average intelligence, who has extremely privileged access to information, that only comes across as intelligent because every other character in the books is incapable of thinking ahead for more than a step. And the constant deep dives into military tactics, of planning this siege and that assault, were just as snooze-worthy as the bloodbaths. If I wanted to read about tactics, I would pick up a textbook, and then at least I wouldn't have to read as much about sexual assault.
To that point, it's very telling that the sum entirety of the information the crystal gives Belisarius is all military technology. Of all the many, many, many technological advancements it could impart on him, it makes no mention of say, penicillin. Or germ theory. Or inoculation. Or improved methods of agriculture. All things that could potentially save hundreds of thousands of lives, and still be useful to an army (because soldiers can die of smallpox too). But no, the only information deemed worthy in this paean to heteromasculine intellectual violence is how to kill more people, more efficiently.
The enemy crystal, Link, comes across as a very odd and uncompelling villain. Its reasoning for backing the Malwa Empire and changing history is to avert human destruction of Earth via eugenics, which somehow can only be accomplished by the Malwa defeating Rome because the Malwa have a caste system. This is bizarre on several levels. For one thing, Link is presented as an entirely unemotional, logical, cold-facts kind of intelligence. The kind that makes no value judgments. But eugenics is entirely about value judgments. There is nothing impartial about eugenics at all. It is a heavily, unfortunately, human way of looking at the world. And the justification that a Malwa superiority instead of Roman superiority will lead to worldwide eugenics is both kind of racist and and an unfounded assumption, given that the caste system in India lasted far, far longer than the Roman Empire ever did, and also there have been quite a few Western thinkers and politicians who went very hard for eugenics with terrible, terrible results.
The only reason this book got two stars instead of one - and the only reason I'm going to finish the series - is the female characters. Despite the heavily sexualized way the narrative treats them, despite everything else going on in these books, these women are genuinely interesting! There's a lot of great interplay and dynamism in our major female characters - Antonina, the prostitute-turned-people's hero, Irene the cunning spymaster, Theodora the vengeful empress, and Shakuntala the deposed empress ready to take back her throne, and Lady Sati, raised to be a vessel for an inhuman intelligence - and I'm invested in their stories. Far more so than I am any of the male characters, who are either just endless variations on The Noble Man Soldier (if they're good) or craven villains (if they're bad). (And I do wish more had been made of the initial claim that Theodora and Antonina are both witches, because that would have been very interesting.) There's an alternate universe version of this book somewhere, written by a woman, focusing on the female characters, and I'm eternally sad we got stuck with this version instead.