Avenging Varus Part II

by R. W. Peake

  Marching With Caesar – Avenging Varus, Part II

  By R.W. Peake

  Also by R.W Peake

  Marching With Caesar® – Birth of the 10th

  Marching With Caesar – Conquest of Gaul

  Marching With Caesar – Civil War

  Marching With Caesar – Antony and Cleopatra, Parts I & II

  Marching With Caesar – Rise of Augustus

  Marching With Caesar – Last Campaign

  Marching With Caesar – Rebellion

  Marching With Caesar – A New Era

  Marching With Caesar – Pax Romana

  Marching With Caesar – Fraternitas

  Marching With Caesar – Vengeance

  Marching With Caesar – Rise of Germanicus

  Marching With Caesar – Revolt of the Legions

  Marching With Caesar – Avenging Varus, Part I

  Caesar Triumphant

  Caesar Ascending – Invasion of Parthia

  Caesar Ascending – Conquest of Parthia

  Caesar Ascending – India

  Critical praise for the Marching with Caesar series:

  Marching With Caesar-Antony and Cleopatra: Part I-Antony

  “Peake has become a master of depicting Roman military life and action, and in this latest novel he proves adept at evoking the subtleties of his characters, often with an understated humour and surprising pathos. Very highly recommended.”

  Marching With Caesar-Civil War

  "Fans of the author will be delighted that Peake’s writing has gone from strength to strength in this, the second volume...Peake manages to portray Pullus and all his fellow soldiers with a marvelous feeling of reality quite apart from the star historical name... There’s history here, and character, and action enough for three novels, and all of it can be enjoyed even if readers haven’t seen the first volume yet. Very highly recommended."

  ~The Historical Novel Society

  “The hinge of history pivoted on the career of Julius Caesar, as Rome’s Republic became an Empire, but the muscle to swing that gateway came from soldiers like Titus Pullus. What an amazing story from a student now become the master of historical fiction at its best.”

  ~Professor Frank Holt, University of Houston

  Marching With Caesar – Avenging Varus Part II by R.W. Peake

  Copyright © 2019 by R.W. Peake

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Cover Artwork Copyright © 2019 R. W. Peake

  All Rights Reserved

  To My Grand-dog, the Baroness Lulu Van Der Mullen

  Long may she reign over the hearts

  Of everyone who meets her

  Foreword

  Now that the “elephant in the room” in the form of the death of Titus Porcinianus Pullus has been revealed in Marching With Caesar-Avenging Varus Part I, I hope that you, my readers and fans, have at least partially forgiven me for making the decision to snip the strings of Titus the Younger’s story, and it’s my fervent hope that you will “adopt” Gnaeus Pullus as the heir to the mantle of the Pullus name and all that it means for Rome. Since Avenging Varus Part II is the continuation of the story started in the previous book, it also marks the continuation of the campaign conducted by Germanicus Julius Caesar against Arminius and his German confederation. Unlike a complete work of fiction, as an author of historical fiction who tries to hew as closely as possible to the historical record, I was unwilling and unable to create a better ending, at least of the kind we’ve learned to expect from Hollywood, where Germanicus and his army triumphs over Arminius, culminating with either the German being paraded through the streets of Rome like Vercingetorix, or barring that, his head prominently displayed for every Roman to see. In fact, when one is viewing these events with a dispassionate eye, an argument can be made that this epic struggle between Rome and what was a confederation of tribes, whose hatred for each other was only slightly less than their hatred of Rome, was more of a draw than a victory for Rome. Yes, Arminius was vanquished, and ultimately even his obvious charisma, ruthlessness, and cunning couldn’t overcome the relentless nature of Rome and its Legions, nor the hatred and jealousy of the other German chieftains, but if we could plumb the minds of men like Germanicus, Gnaeus Pullus, and his comrades, I’m fairly certain that we would find they were every bit as unsatisfied at this rather ignominious conclusion of an endeavor that had been so many years in the making. This is borne out by Germanicus’ willingness to risk the wrath of his adoptive father and the new Princeps Tiberius by initially arguing for yet another campaign season, but Tiberius pointedly refused. Why he did so one can only guess at; Tacitus did, speculating that the primary reason for Tiberius’ refusal to finish Arminius off was based in his fear that, by doing so, Germanicus’ popularity with not just the people of Rome, but most importantly, the eight battle-hardened Legions of the Army of the Rhenus would eclipse his own. While this is speculation, and Tacitus does display a certain level of bias against Tiberius, it is certainly plausible, especially given that Tiberius was still relatively new to the title of Imperator, but what seems implausible, at least to me, is that Germanicus would have ever sought to usurp his adoptive father. There is nothing in the historical record to suggest that he had designs on ascending to the title of Imperator, at least through any machinations of his own. As I said when I began this chapter of the Pullus saga with Rise of Germanicus, I think that Germanicus Julius Caesar is the most intriguing “what if” in the history of Rome, but just as it wasn’t in his destiny to bring about Arminius’ demise, neither was it to rule Rome.

  Ultimately, however, this story is about one family, and the historical events in which they find themselves, while an integral part of the story, are a backdrop for their own history as the Pullus family adjusts to the new reality of their lives. Avenging Varus Part II is essentially the end of the beginning of a new generation, but in a sense, this is a very personal story for me as well. Like every author, I know that whether it is intentional or not, we inevitably endow our characters with pieces of ourselves, something that I am reminded of on a regular basis by those readers who also know me personally, when they say, “That sounds like something you would do” or “I heard you say that once”, but in this case, I knew as I was writing that I was personally connected to Gnaeus Pullus, because in a way, I am telling my own story.

  Like Gnaeus Pullus, I didn’t know who my father was; not really, anyway. He died before I was born, and for reasons that I won’t go into, what I knew about him for the first two decades of my life could be summarized in one sentence. It wasn’t until I was twenty years old, when all I knew about my father was his name, where he was born, when he died, and thanks to my favorite baseball player Rusty Staub when he played for the Colt .45’s/Astros, that he had red hair, which I learned from my maternal grandmother when I saw my hero take off his baseball cap, that this changed, when I met my paternal aunt for the first time. Before that moment, I never felt as if I had anything in common with my mother’s side of the family. Part of that was geographical; I was the only Southern-born member of my family at that time, and while my immediate family was composed of professional classical musicians and teachers, I gravitated towards other pursuits, specifically the military. Physically, I didn’t resemble any members of my mother’s side of the family, and through no fault of their own, I never felt like I fit in, having almost nothing in common with them. Until, that is, the day I pulled up into a driveway in San Antonio, and met my Aunt Jackie, whose first reaction on seeing me was to burst into tears, something I didn’t truly understand until we entere
d her house, and for the first time, I saw a picture of my father. It was like looking in the mirror, especially because I was almost the same age at twenty as he was when he died, at twenty-one, and the picture had been taken shortly before his death. Over the course of the next few hours, I learned more, not just about my father but about myself, than I had learned over the course of two decades. Suddenly, everything fit, as I learned about my Scotch-Irish heritage and the deep roots in the mountains of northwestern North Carolina that extend back to the mid-18th century, my family’s tradition of military service, and more than anything, the same manner of thinking and outlook that, before that moment, I had no idea from where it came. It still serves as the most potent example of the power of blood, and even as I was writing this part of the Pullus story, I knew that I was writing as much about myself as about Gnaeus.

  The one thing I didn’t have was a set of scrolls, but I was given several of my father’s letters that he had written to my aunt, along with some of his essays from his time in college, and while it was nowhere near enough, they did help me understand my father better, and in doing so, made me understand myself as well. In this sense, Gnaeus’ story is my own.

  At the risk of sounding redundant, thanks goes once again to Beth Lynne for her keen eye and astute observations, in a partnership that has lasted through this, my twentieth book. Thanks also to Laura Prevost, who persevered through my fussing and fretting in producing this cover.

  And again, thanks to you, my readers, especially for your response to Avenging Varus Part I and embracing the next generation of the Pullus line in Gnaeus; I hope you will continue to enjoy his story for some time to come.

  Semper Fidelis,

  R.W. Peake

  June, 2019

  Historical Notes

  As always, I relied on Tacitus, Dio, Strabo, Paterculus, and a dash of Suetonius, but when it comes to describing tactics, terrain, and battles, Tacitus leaves much to be desired, and he is the most helpful of the ancient sources. Consequently, once more I relied on Lindsay Powell’s outstanding biography of Germanicus, Germanicus-The Magnificent Life and Mysterious Death of Rome’s Most Popular General, published by Pen & Sword Military in 2013, along with his later work, Roman Soldier Versus Germanic Warrior, part of the Combat Series by Osprey Publishing, published in 2014. The latter work was valuable because it adds a visual element that I found extremely helpful. Nevertheless, because of Tacitus’ aforementioned shortcomings, so much of what we know of Germanicus’ campaigns is speculation, both in terms of the specific locations of the various battles and events, but in the identities of specific Legions, with just a couple of exceptions. In the Battle of the Long Bridges, for example, Tacitus lists the Legions involved, which includes the 1st, while other instances, such as both the Battles of Idistaviso and the Angrivarian Wall, the composition of the front line Legions is a matter of conjecture. My placement of the 1st in relation to the other Legions in both these battles is purely my own, as is my location of the 15th and 16th Legions in Confluentes in the winter of 15-16 CE.

  Equally frustrating to any author who strives to be as accurate in their descriptions of not just the participants but the terrain is the lack of information that would allow us to precisely locate these important events. There are several alternatives for almost every single battle, which forced me to be deliberately vague in describing the ground, which isn’t something I like to do. What we know is that, if Tacitus is to be believed, the site of Idistaviso was within a day’s march of the Angrivarian Wall, and that there was a river believed to be the modern Weser that played a prominent role in what would be the final battle between the armies of Germanicus and Arminius, but that is about as specific as it was possible to be.

  While Tacitus is generally very complimentary of Germanicus Julius Caesar, he did level a criticism that, when one looks at it, is a valid one, and that is Germanicus’ decision to not only not sail farther up the Amisia (Ems) with the fleet carrying both supplies and troops, but to disembark those troops on the eastern bank of the river. Instead, he chose a spot barely a mile upriver from the mouth, and unloaded everything on the western bank, requiring his men to build a bridge across the river. It proved to be a costly error, at least for those Batavian auxiliaries that drowned trying to cross the river because of the sudden rising tide, but this wasn’t the first, nor would it be the last where not only Germanicus, but every Roman with command authority seemed to underestimate the power of the estuary tides in the region. In fact, while it’s impossible to know with any certainty, it seems clear that, if not the majority, then a substantial number of the losses incurred by Rome during this two year campaign was a direct result of Roman ineptitude in nautical matters. One can look to the fact that, both years, there was a major mishap with the Roman fleet, although they were sailing in coastal waters in between the Rhine and the Ems Rivers, which reinforces the truth that Romans were not natural seafarers.

  Finally, on the Legate Lucius Seius Tubero, and Gnaeus’ mention that he was the brother of Lucius Aelius Sejanus; this comes from Paterculus, who makes an allusion to this fact, although it’s somewhat ambiguous, but I decided to include it.

  My reasons for doing so will hopefully become apparent in the rest of Gnaeus’ story.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Part I

  Chapter One

  When Gnaeus Pullus returned from his mother’s villa after having all that he had learned from the letter and will of Titus Porcinianus Pullus confirmed by Giulia, it was just before dawn. He was haggard and wanted nothing more than to lie down and get some sleep. Naturally, this meant that nothing of the kind happened, and his resulting foul mood that day was cause for some comment among the men of his new command in the Second Century, although it did not amount to more than soldiers’ grumbling. Alex had been gone only a third of a watch into Mogontiacum on his own errand to arrange a confrontation that he hoped would help quell the inevitable talk about Gnaeus Pullus’ paternity, falling asleep quickly on his return, although he leapt to his feet when Pullus entered the outer office, but the Centurion whispered that he would not be needed. The lamps in the outer office had been extinguished, so Alex was unable to clearly make out Pullus’ form as he crossed the office and entered his private quarters, yet there was something that nagged at him enough that he quickly dismissed the idea of a few more moments of sleep. He waited to see if the lamp that had been left alight in Pullus’ quarters was extinguished, the sign that the Centurion had decided to snatch some rest; when it remained lit, he got up, knocked, and entered at Pullus’ grunt, which he had already learned was his form of permission. Pullus had not undressed, although he had taken his baltea off and had clearly tossed it in the general direction of the frame but missed. Even in the week he had been his clerk, Alex had noticed with disapproval the careless way Gnaeus treated the various bits of his uniform, which he took as a vestige of his former life as an Equestrian, back when he never had to lift a finger to do anything for himself and there was always someone there to pick up after him. Which, he thought with rueful amusement, isn’t that much different now, since the task of applying a fresh coat of varnish would fall on his shoulders if contact with the floor had marred the finish. Despite this, he did not feel secure enough in his relationship with the young Centurion yet to chide him for his carelessness; hopefully, that would come in time. For his part, Pullus barely glanced up at Alex as he entered, choosing to stare at his desktop instead, clearly in some sort of mood.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” Alex asked quietly, but Pullus shook his head, so he asked, “Is there anything you need, Centurion?”

  When Pullus
shook his head again, Alex turned to leave, and in doing so, performed a quick visual search of the spot under his cot, confirming that Pullus had not returned with the lone crate he had taken with him, which was what had nagged at him when he saw Pullus’ dark figure crossing the room.

  Dismayed, he nevertheless decided against saying anything, but just as he reached the door, Pullus called out wearily, “Wait.” When Alex turned with an inquiring glance, he was expecting an order to bring the Centurion the remnants of the meal from the previous night to break his fast, but Pullus pointed to one of the stools in front of the desk and Alex complied, dropping onto it as Pullus said, “I want to ask you a question.”

  “Of course,” Alex answered, albeit somewhat warily.

  “Did it ever occur to you that by accepting my adoption, I’d lose my status as an Equestrian?” Pullus asked evenly, his voice giving nothing of his own feelings on the matter away.

  This startled Alex, but he gave the reason for it by exclaiming, “By Dis, no! It never crossed my mind. I mean,” he amended hastily, “I didn’t really think about it.”

  “Neither did I,” Pullus admitted ruefully. “But,” he gave a soft laugh, “the gods know my mother did.”

  He said nothing else, so they sat in silence for a moment, which gave Alex time to think through the situation and realize, with some chagrin, that this should have been obvious, which was why Alex asked with what he believed was warranted caution, “What are you going to do, Gnaeus?”