Marching With Caesar-Pax Romana

by R. W. Peake

Finally, I forced myself to ask, "Was my father involved in this? Did he know what was happening?"

  Asinius looked startled, and his manner was adamant as he shook his head and replied, "By the gods, no! This started about three years ago, after he left." He pierced me with his eyes, and his expression was unsettling; his words were even worse. "How could you even consider that as a possibility, Pullus? Do you not know your father at all?"

  I felt horrible; guilty and abashed that I could think that my father was capable of such behavior. A thought flashed into my head that, if the earth under my chair could suddenly open up and swallow me, perhaps then I would feel better.

  "No, I know," I finally managed. "I just…there's so much going on that I got confused. I know he wouldn't have been involved in anything like this."

  Ironically enough, that was the moment I remembered something important, and very relevant; I had confided in this man about our circumstances, that my family was actually fabulously wealthy because of the combination of my Avus' accomplishments and the shrewd management of Diocles. Asinius had kept that in mind, understanding my father had no need to enrich himself in all sorts of back alley schemes; the fact that even for an instant I considered the idea that Gaius Porcinianus Pullus, as he is known now, could be involved is one of the more shameful moments of my life. My only defense is that a combination of my youth, and all the revelations to which I had been exposed in the previous days contributed to my confusion, and weakness. We sat for some time, in silence, before Asinius broke it.

  "So how did you know about the armor scheme?"

  I told him, everything, leaving nothing out about all I had learned from Corvinus, and as I did, I was struck by something that, although trivial, saddened me in a way that is hard to explain.

  "He told me that he found out about the scheme when Manius came to him," I told Asinius, knowing I did not have to mention more than the name; he was, after all, the man who had introduced me to the old Immunes when I was forced to get my segmentata repaired. "That wasn't true, was it? I mean, he knew all along."

  Asinius shrugged, saying only, "That I don't know for sure. But," he pointed out, "it's entirely possible that the way Corvinus first found out about this scheme Urso cooked up was from Manius."

  I considered for a moment, then made the decision to accept this on its face as what had happened; I know it was probably a lie, but sometimes, we are better served by believing lies, and I felt this was one of those times.

  "Do you know what's going on?" I finally asked Asinius, but I was to be disappointed.

  "Not much." He shook his head. "But it has something to do with the fact that Urso acted on his own authority. Apparently, he'd been ordered by the Legate to refrain from taking any action until the 13th and 15th were fully in place and had sent word they were moving in."

  "Then it doesn't have anything to do with all this…" I waved my hand in an encompassing gesture "…cac about selling armor?"

  "Not that I know of," Asinius replied, except his manner was far from certain, "but that doesn't mean that when the Legate is poking around, he's not going to stumble across something that makes him aware."

  I felt a glimmer of satisfaction that, at least in this, I possessed a piece of information Asinius apparently did not, and I replied, "Oh, I wouldn't worry about that. I heard that Urso had been cutting him in on what he was doing, in exchange for him to look the other way."

  "That doesn't surprise me," Asinius said bitterly. "I've never heard of a fucking patrician turning his back on the chance to make more money. As if," he shook his head, clearly disgusted, "they need more."

  "Do you know anything about the Tribunes?" I asked, thinking that perhaps he had heard something like this, but again, he shook his head.

  "No," he told me. "Apparently, the Legate is smart enough to know that Paullus is not only a fucking idiot, he is, or was," he amended, "a menace to the men under his command. Besides," he pointed out, "from what I heard, it was another man from his class that punched him in the face."

  Despite the gravity of the moment, I had to laugh.

  "That's true," I admitted.

  "Pullus," Asinius spoke firmly, "about what I just told you. Nothing good will come from you poking around in all that mess. Stay out of it."

  "I wish I could," I told him, and I was being honest, "but Caecina is convinced that somehow I'm involved in all that's going on. He thinks Corvinus is threatening Urso and is demanding you and Galens being promoted as the price of his silence."

  "Well," Asinius admitted with a shrug, "he's partially right. But it's not about Corvinus trying to get even. It's about him doing what he can to make sure someone is watching your back in this nest of vipers."

  Frankly, I did not know how to feel. My respect and admiration for my first Pilus Prior had suffered a crippling blow with the news that he had been involved in the same kind of underhanded dealings as Urso. But neither was I blind to the fact that, by acting as he had in order to protect me, he had openly declared himself as an enemy of our Primus Pilus. Since there was nothing more to be learned, at least that night, I left Asinius' quarters, but not without his admonition.

  "By the gods, don't get caught," he warned me. "Things are complicated enough already. Trying to keep you from getting flogged is a problem none of us need."

  Although my first thought was this was something I did not need to be warned about, I managed to keep it to myself. Flaccus, Capulo, and Titius were seated at their table when I exited Asinius' quarters, but none of them met my gaze. Frankly, I was too distracted to make an issue of it and barely noticed, although I was aware that in all likelihood they had been listening at the door. However, this was the least of my worries at the moment, but I managed to slip back into my own quarters and back to my cot. Following the example of the trio I had just left, I ignored Caecina's glare at me, yet, to my surprise, he did not press me on my whereabouts. With the memory of his warning about sleeping with one eye open, I lay down, and tried to get some rest.

  It was not until midday the next day that those of us in the ranks learned of the developments that had taken place as they concerned our Primus Pilus. We were all surprised, some pleasantly so, others not as much, to learn that, in fact, his troubles with the Legate had nothing to do with his off-the-books activities. No, what the Legate was furious about was that, apparently, Urso had moved ahead with his own plan to lure the Colapiani into battle, using us as bait, when the plan specifically called for a different approach. The 15th had marched through the night to position themselves on the western boundary of the rough country, while the 13th was already north. That much we all knew; what we learned was that we were supposed to wait, not only until the 15th had arrived but had been given time to rest, then array themselves in a line of Cohorts arranged on a north-south orientation. As we also knew, the 13th had already done as much, but Urso's orders had been to wait until the Legate himself arrived to take command, before our three forces converged towards each other. Of course, in the middle of our three forces would be the Colapiani, along with whatever Varciani or Latobici had joined with them, and, with nowhere to run, they would be crushed. In its conception, it was a fine piece of military strategy; it was also utterly foolish and unrealistic. It was the kind of maneuver that an armchair general would devise, based on looking at a map and not having seen the ground himself. The idea that three Legions, or thirty Cohorts, would be able to keep themselves aligned with each other as they attempted to march up the steep and heavily wooded hills, or navigate the narrow draws and ravines, was ludicrous. Nevertheless, the Legate had accused Urso of overstepping his authority and using a Legion of Rome in a reckless and dangerous manner by making an unsupported attack, thereby causing greater loss of life than necessary. That, of course, was not how the charges were worded specifically, but that was the essence of it. However, it was not lost on anyone that this was a case of a Legate not being able to take credit for a glorious victory over a rebelling tribe. The bad news
for Urso did not stop there; Paullus was apparently making quite a fuss about the way he had been treated. It was of small comfort to me that, of all of us in Urso's Century, I was the only one not surprised when we learned that, while it had been Claudius who actually struck Paullus, the broad stripe was insisting the Primus Pilus had been the real culprit, and that Claudius had been acting at Urso's insistence.

  "How could the Primus Pilus make some Tribune, a nobleman, do something like that?" was how Lutatius put it; although I liked and generally trusted him, on this matter, he was of a similar mind as Caecina, and I instantly saw everyone else present agree.

  I did as well, but it was a minor consideration from my viewpoint, especially compared to everything else. When we heard that the Centurions and Optios of the four Centuries of the First who had been with the main body were being questioned, my comrades took this as a good sign, certain they would all essentially support Urso's version of events. While I believed that as well, where I differed from the others was how much weight would be given to their testimony; based on everything I knew about how such things are settled, I believed it would all come down to the Tribune Claudius, who had become something of a hero to the rankers for striking Paullus. I could not put away the nagging thought that, although from everything I had witnessed with his actions and behavior to that point indicated he would not shy away from taking responsibility, treachery might be in his blood.

  When my Avus had been brought up on charges by Tribunal for knowingly participating in what turned out to be an illegal invasion of Thrace, under the command of the Praetor of Macedonia, Marcus Primus, the most damning piece of evidence against him was a written statement by one of the Tribunes attached to the army, of which my Avus was second in command in his role as Camp Prefect. According to his statement, the Tribune swore that he had overheard my Avus and Marcus Primus discussing matters that, if the statement were true, left no doubt that Titus Pullus had been aware that Marcus Primus was not acting on orders, but on his own initiative. And, considering that Marcus Primus was brought to a separate trial, where he was not only found guilty but was, in fact, executed, an exceedingly rare fate in itself for a man of his status, this charge against my Avus threatened not only his career, but his life. Fortunately, the statement was not true, and although it was a close-run thing, the fact that the Tribune had lied was exposed during the Tribunal in such a way that it was impossible for the members to find my Avus guilty. However, while Titus Pullus was acquitted and the Tribune was exposed for giving false testimony, as far as I know, he was not punished. This Tribune was a member of the Claudius family, so perhaps I can be forgiven for my skepticism that this Tribune, whether he was a son, grandson, nephew, or distant cousin of the cunnus who tried to help get my Avus killed, would prove to be more honorable.

  Naturally, I did not speak of this to any of my comrades; not only would it have been unwelcome news, it would in all likelihood have lost me what few friends I had in the section, because their outrage at this development with Urso was very real, and very potent. Since we were still restricted to our quarters, except for going to the latrine, of course, or going to get our rations so we could cook our meals, it did not take long for nerves to fray and quarrels over the most inconsequential matters to break out. I tried to pass the time reading, and I remember being thankful that at least I no longer had to endure Philo constantly harassing me about what he considered to be an activity suited only for effeminate Greeks and pasty-faced patricians. I briefly thought about writing a letter to my father, then quickly dismissed it for the moment, not wanting to run the risk of someone filching it when my back was turned and reading my true thoughts about all that was happening. Perhaps it would not have made any difference; I cannot say I hid my feelings very well, but it was just trouble of a sort I did not need in any more abundance than I already had on my hands. Trying to ignore the constant sounds of the others talking proved to be difficult, but somehow, I was surprised when Ventidius got up and lit the lamps, signaling another day had ended. I recall that evening because it was the last uneventful one where I got any reading done for several days.

  Mela and Avitus returned to our hut the next day, the former with a limp, the latter moving his upper body gingerly, trying to keep the stitches in his shoulder intact. Avitus was greeted warmly, especially by me, but Mela had to make do with Caecina and Geta fawning over him, joking about the scar he would be able to show the ladies.

  "How's Domitius?" I asked Avitus.

  "He's all right, but he's going to be in there for at least another week," he told me. "But his wound is healing cleanly, I heard the butcher tell him."

  I was relieved; I had not realized how much I valued Titus Domitius' company until it was gone, but I suppose that is not unusual.

  "At least he's missing all this fun." I grinned. "Although I can only imagine what he'd have to say about it."

  "Oh, I'm pretty sure I can tell you," Avitus joked, "because he wouldn't shut up about it."

  I had to admit that sounded like him, and I said as much. Avitus' smile faded, and he leaned close to ask me in a whisper to catch him up on everything. It took a bit of time, mainly because we had to stop whenever it appeared someone else was getting a little too interested, although in retrospect, I did not tell him anything that had not been said by every man in the hut by that point.

  Once I finished, he told me, "Well, I do have a bit of good news. I overheard some of the Centurions talking outside the Praetorium when I was coming back home, and tomorrow, our restriction is going to be lifted."

  Although he said it so that only I could hear, I thought it was something that should be shared, so I asked him to repeat it. This was met with understandable enthusiasm, although it was laced with a fair amount of bitterness it had happened in the first place, a sentiment with which I agreed wholeheartedly. From our viewpoint, it did not make sense to keep us isolated, but as we learned the next day, our Legate was not quite as thick as he acted. The reason we had been kept out of sight was because the other two Legions had returned back to Siscia as well, and they were two very, very angry Legions. And, while their rage was directed at our Primus Pilus, considering he was off limits, the men of the 13th and 15th would have been perfectly happy with a substitute for a beating, or worse. Of course, this did not sit well with us, and the next week would prove to be extremely tense in camp, but especially in town. The way we saw matters, we had not only done nothing wrong, but most of us were perfectly happy to let men from other Legions come and make an issue out of the fact that we whipped the Colapiani by ourselves, without their help. If we could do that, we felt confident about being able to handle ourselves with other Legionaries. I cannot say that it makes much sense now, but it did at the time.

  At midday, we were visited by Asinius, his first official appearance as Optio, other than a couple days before when the promotion was made. Naturally, all the men came to intente, but it did not take much of an eye to see that some men were a bit more leisurely in stopping what they were doing to snap to the position. I waited to see if he made an issue of it, but he chose not to, which I privately thought was a mistake, at least at the moment. Rather than make us remain at intente, he told us to take a seat at the table while he stood at the end by the door, watching as we did so.

  Once we were seated, he said, "I know that there's been a lot of talk, a lot of rumors flying around about what's going on. The Primus Pilus has instructed me to let you know at least part of what's happening."

  He proceeded to explain the situation, which was when we learned about the actual nature of the charges against Urso, and I did not miss seeing Caecina's expression change as his warring emotions fought for control of him. On one hand, I was sure he was unhappy the Primus Pilus was in any kind of trouble at all, particularly as it pertained to our fighting the Colapiani, and I fully confess that, in this one area, we were of a like mind. Punishing a man for an excessive amount of fighting spirit is not only counterproductive to the b
usiness of the Legions, it is bad for morale, as I was witnessing at that moment. Where we differed, however, was in the sense of relief I saw flickering across his face at the thought that Urso's trouble with the Legate did not involve his other activities, which, in turn, was what troubled me. Asinius continued talking, moving on to the topic of the charges laid by Paullus.

  "That," he said, "I think isn't going to come to anything."

  "Why?" Caecina asked, but not only was this something we all were interested in, he was the appropriate person to ask the question, and I saw Asinius did not hold it against him.

  "Because Tribune Claudius refused to amend his original statement that claims he was the one who came up with the idea of striking Paullus in order to subdue him, and the Primus Pilus had nothing to do with it. Actually," he checked himself, "I misspoke. He didn't modify his statement, but he did add to it, and claimed that when Claudius made it clear he was going to hit Paullus to subdue him because of the threat he posed to the Legion, the Primus Pilus tried to stop him." He shrugged. "I don't know if that last part is true, but Claudius is a Tribune, after all," he gave a slight grin, "and we all know that Tribunes are the fine young men of Rome and would never lie."

  As I am suspecting he hoped, his levity was met with laughter that, if only for a moment, eased the strained feelings.

  "What's next, though?" I asked. Caecina shot me a glance that I only saw out of the corner of my eye, but I did not need to see him fully to know he was not happy I had spoken up.

  "I was about to come to that, Pullus," Asinius retorted; in an instant, Caecina's mood improved, while my face burned at the rebuke. "Tomorrow, there will be a hearing, specifically for the purpose of finding out the facts of what took place. From that, the Legate will decide whether to bring the Primus Pilus up on charges and bring him to Tribunal."