by R. W. Peake
Marching With Caesar®
Pax Romana
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
Caesar Triumphant
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 Pax Romana by R.W. Peake
Copyright © 2015 by R.W. Peake
Smashwords Edition
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 Art by Marina Shipova
Cover Artwork Copyright © 2015 R. W. Peake
All Rights Reserved
Foreword
Pax Romana. From my viewpoint, it’s a term that recalls a period of Roman history that, for a writer of historical fiction focused on the Legions of Rome, is quite a challenge.
After all, if there’s peace throughout what has become the nascent Empire, and one is writing about the combat exploits of a character or characters, it would seem that a nasty outbreak of peace would dry out the inkwell, so to speak.
And I’ll be the first to confess that my knowledge of this formative period of time is, while deeper than the average person, not very detailed, especially compared to the years I’ve spent immersed in the Late Republic for the first part of what has become the Marching With Caesar® series. However, as happened when I first began forming the character who will always be my most important creation no matter where this journey takes me, the deeper I delved into the last decade of the BCE period, I began seeing parallels in the world in which we live today.
Specifically, this period of time in Roman history reminds me quite a bit of our own Cold War, particularly in the 80’s and 90’s, but in one fairly narrow sense. I was, and I suppose in my mindset and outlook still am, a Cold Warrior. Fairly quickly in my career in the Marines I discovered that the perception of world affairs as civilians viewed matters and the way my comrades and I did were vastly different. The illustration that comes to mind is to picture a duck, smoothly gliding across the water, seemingly moving without any effort whatsoever; look under the water, however, and one gets a vastly different picture. From our perspective, what civilians saw as a relatively peaceful period was anything but that.
I believe this analogy works for not just the Cold War, but for the Pax Romana in general, and for this book specifically. While our civilian populations in both the U.S. and back in ancient Rome carried on with their lives, men wearing the uniforms of their respective country were still fighting, and dying. Whether one is killed while pacifying the province of Pannonia, or as a peacekeeper in Beirut, the sacrifice is the same as it is for those who fell when their governments made a formal declaration of war on another entity, and is no less deserving of being honored for it.
Ultimately, that is what Marching With Caesar-Pax Romana is about, aside from continuing the ongoing story of what has now become the Pullus family, as they are witnesses to, and help make, history. The challenge for anyone in the military who is stationed in what is essentially a nether world, where those surrounding them are ostensibly friendly but who can turn hostile instantly, is how to balance the aggressive nature that is required to survive combat with the need for prudence that, ironically is a crucial component required to keep those same civilians from becoming hostile.
Now, don’t mistake me; Rome’s approach to peacekeeping was a bit more…drastic than that practiced by most non-totalitarian countries of the modern world. I have little doubt that Augustus would have doubled over in laughter at the lengths to which we go now in order not to provoke a native populace in a country where we are present. Nevertheless, despite what most people think, even as brutal as Rome could be, considering how Romanized the world became, one would think that the tradeoff the average inhabitant made was worth the trouble. While there is certainly truth in the idea that it was a case where Rome was so overpowering, so brutal and ruthless that the people they conquered didn’t dare trying to regain their freedom, I don’t think it’s as simple as that. Rome did have something to offer that wasn’t available to most of the surrounding cultures, and that had to help in their ability to rule.
However, Pannonia, in particular, was a trouble spot, and I want to be clear on the one liberty I am taking with this story. As most readers of this series know by now, I strive very hard to tread a path that is as close to the historical record as I can get, for the simple reason I think what actually happened is just as interesting as what might have happened, or could have happened. That said, when I consulted the sources (Dio seems to be the most detailed of this period, at least on viewing wider events outside Rome), in the year after the death of Nero Claudius Drusus, not a lot was going on in the province. Consequently, the events I describe in Pax Romana are not part of the historical record. It’s my supposition, based on nothing other than my own experiences and observations, that for every rebellion, uprising or disturbance that rose to the level to be noted by annalists like Dio, there were other events of a similar nature that were not. In particular, as the civil and military administration of Rome became more entrenched and stratified, my suspicion is that those contemporaries appointed by the Princeps to govern provinces had absolutely no desire to be seen lacking in their abilities by him. From my viewpoint, it’s just human nature for those handed responsibility by someone like Augustus, who if not the first, was the ancient world’s greatest micromanager, not to want to give the boss any reason to be displeased. I’d point to events that have yet to happen, at least as far as this story is concerned, with the Varus disaster as an example where somebody didn’t want to bother the boss. At least, not until it was too late.
Therefore, while there’s no record of the Colapiani or Varciani rising up in the year of the Consulships of Censorinus and Gallus, or 8 BCE, my hope is that the purists among my readers aren’t forced to suspend their disbelief too much with the idea that men like the young Titus still faced death and duty, despite not being officially on campaign. And, as most historians and experts on the Roman military seem to agree, there was a level of corruption that, from appearances, was si
mply accepted as one of the costs of doing business, so to speak. As long as those conducting such activities didn’t get too greedy, or even worse, overreach themselves socially. This is the world, at least as I have created it, of the Pannonia in which Titus and his comrades must live, and survive, where threats don’t just come from the natives.
Finally, as always, the thanks must go to the team that helps me put one literary foot in front of the other as I continue exploring what it might have meant to be one of the grunts of Rome. Beth Lynne, my editor, and Marina Shipova, my cover artist, deserve my thanks and gratitude for their contributions, along with my advance readers, particularly Margaret Courtney, Joe Corso, and Stu MacPherson. And since this is the first book since I spent a full month in Italy, I also want to thank Giulia and Flaminia Chapman, the former being my personal guide, the latter her sister and the one who arranges such meetings, for making that month the trip of a lifetime, and making Rome come even more alive for me than it already is. There are no words…even for me!
Semper Fidelis,
R.W. Peake
Historical Note
While I’ve become fairly familiar with the province known as Pannonia, I will be the first to admit that it’s in a “Google Earth” kind of way for the most part. Although I’ve been lucky enough to traverse the edges of the ancient Roman province (and came within no more than one hundred kilometers of Siscia), much of the area in which Marching With Caesar®-Pax Romana is set has only been “seen” by me through that wonderful application, Google Earth.
There are several points I feel compelled to make about this book, the first of which concerns the Legions of Rome, after the first of what historians now call the Augustan Reforms have been instituted, and that concerns how the men of a First Century, First Cohort were accommodated.
Specifically, in the text Titus makes mention that, while the size of the First Cohort has been doubled, and the permanent structures of these men have been modified to house the increased numbers, when it comes to life in the field, this is not the case, that the section is essentially divided in half while on campaign.
This is completely my own conjecture, but based in the concept that, like any bureaucrat, Augustus wouldn’t want to spend money when it wasn’t necessary. The expense that would be required to make tents of a sufficient size to shelter sixteen men instead of the normal eight would, at least to me, seem prohibitive. Furthermore, not only is the cost of making such a tent to be considered, the cost of its transport must be taken into account as well. It has been, if not proven, at least strongly suggested that each contubernium had not only a slave assigned to it, but a mule as well. And since this makes eminent sense to me, I am taking the approach of “that’s my story and I’m sticking to it.” Consequently, I have Titus’ sixteen-man section divided into two whenever on campaign; for those who disagree, I humbly beg their pardon for this approach.
Also, purists will undoubtedly notice something else that might be at odds with their familiarity with a Roman Legion, and that is in the number of standard-bearers assigned to a First Century of a Cohort. In my story, the Signifer of the First Century also serves as the standard-bearer for the Cohort as well; there is not a Century Signifer and a Cohort Signifer. This was done for narrative purposes, although as I thought about it, I couldn’t come up with a scenario where a Cohort would be assembled without a First Century, especially in the First Cohort. If this is incorrect, I apologize.
Another difficulty had to do with Pannonia itself; at least, as to how it was partitioned and governed. What was Pannonia Inferior and Superior was an organization that occurred after the events in Pax Romana. Consequently, I do not make the distinction between the two. Also, I want to stress that my disposition of the Legions that were stationed in Pannonia is almost completely of my own creation, although I will say that the 13th Legion’s location in Poetovio, modern-day Ptuj in Slovenia is well attested. However, my placing the 13th there during the time period of this story probably predates its actual time there. Hopefully this is a small enough change that it won’t cause too much of a ripple in the pond of historical accuracy.
On the town of Topulcava, where the Colapiani tribe are located, there is no town of that name; however, there is a modern town called Topulsko, Croatia, which is located at the spot I use in the story. Additionally, the spot known as The Quarry is fictional, but is located roughly three miles west of the former Legion outpost Ad Fines, which can be located with the superb Barrington Atlas of the Greek and Roman World. (Which is now available as an iPad app! This is very exciting for someone who has no desire to lug around the huge bound version everywhere he goes!) The unnamed Varciani town is also fictional, except in terms of the location described in the story, which is the village of Planina Gornja, located about ten miles northeast of Zagreb. Its setting, however, along with the dimensions of the locale where the town is located, are real.
As real, at least I hope, as this next chapter in the continuing story of the Pullus family, when they continue Marching With Caesar.
Marching with Caesar
Pax Romana
Forward
Historical Note
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Prologue
Winters here are much harsher than those I experienced in my childhood, especially in the last seven years before I became a man and joined the Legions. And while I thought the winters in Siscia can be harsh, where I spent both the first ten years of my life and another seven, first as a Gregarius and Sergeant, then as Optio, I was disabused of that folly my first winter here in Oppidum Ubiorum (Cologne). Fortunately, my quarters are snug and encased in brick, at least for the winter, although I have spent a fair amount of time under the canvas, as we say now instead of using the term leather, which came from earlier, in my father's and grandfather's time. Perhaps the greatest change for me when I first arrived here, now seven winters ago, was adjusting to the shorter days. As I have since learned, the farther north one travels, the days of winter become shorter, although nobody I have met knows why this is so. It is one of those unfathomable mysteries that, I must confess, occupy my thoughts probably more than they should. I am not unaware that I have a reputation among my Centurions as being somewhat odd; in fact, I have been accustomed to the looks of others that are speculative, envious, and sometimes full of resentment all of my life. I am very large for a Roman, but like the mysteries about the length of days, neither I nor anyone in my family knows why this is so. Although it is true that my brothers are, or were taller than average, being the firstborn, I came out the largest in both height and breadth. Both of my parents were keen to remind me this was not only a gift from the gods, especially true given my profession as a Legionary of Rome, but a responsibility. Yet, while my father is as tall as I am, he also has a leaner build, although as I learned, much to my misfortune as a child, he is nevertheless extremely strong in his own right. The only man, at least Roman man, I have ever known who shares my sheer bulk and height was my grandfather, my Avus. Now, this might seem to answer the question of where I got my size because it is common that certain traits and characteristics seem to skip a generation. However, while I have always thought of him as my grandfather, in simpler terms, he is actually my uncle. My great-uncle, to be exact, the younger brother of my father's mother, and his status as my grandfather is through adoption. Despite this, I have not only his size but his name, which has turned out to be equal parts blessing and curse, although I would not have it any other way.
The only difference between my Avus and me is in the form of our name; whereas he was Titus Pomponius Pullus, my name is Titus Porcinianus Pullus, which is how we Romans do honor to not only our adoptive father, or grandfather in my case, but the man who gave us life. My father, who also goes by Porcinianus Pullus, was born as a Porcinus before he was ado
pted by the first Titus Pullus. I suppose this is also how Romans can tell whether a man has been born into his name or adopted into it. But, as I have learned from my observation of other cultures, mainly Germans, Gauls, and Pannonians, with whom I have the most experience, we view adoption quite differently than they do. Whereas they view an adoptee as being favored, as do we, that is the extent of their view, whereas we Romans see it as a two-way connection, where we are not only being charitable in a sense, but we also are gaining something from the adopted son. I suppose, because of my status, I have done a great deal of thinking and observation about how we approach the matter of adoption and I can now see how curious it must look to an outsider. This is because if an adopted son possesses a certain quality, such as bravery or skill at a certain trade or pursuit, we Romans instantly claim this as a trait that is ascribed to the entire family of that name. I suppose the simplest way to put it is that Romans adopt to improve the original bloodline, while other cultures adopt to improve the fortunes of the adopted. At least this is the case most of the time when I have paid attention. However, in many ways, my father and I are something of an exception, because Titus Pomponius Pullus was such an extraordinary man in his own right that both of us are hard pressed to see what qualities we could possibly pass on to future generations that he did not possess himself.
