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Rome’s Fallen Eagle

Page 25

by Robert Fabbri


  ‘What are the beaches like here, Adminios?’

  ‘Good for our purpose.’ He pointed to a promontory on the mainland. ‘We call this place “Rhudd yr epis” or “horse ford” in Latin. It’s a gently rising beach protected by the island and from it there’s a good trackway for all of the ten miles to the Cantiaci town.’

  ‘So we would need to land a force on Tanatis first to take that before the main body lands at this Rutupis, or whatever it’s called, secures the bridgehead and then moves on to the town. Once we have that we turn south and deal with your troublesome brothers. Will they fight us or try to run to ground of their choosing?’

  ‘They’ll fight, they’ll have no option. They can’t run west because of the great oak forest. No one lives there; an army that size would find it impenetrable, so they’ll have to fight us either to defeat us or get round us.’

  Plautius stared at the map for a few moments. ‘Yes, that idea has merit, although no matter how effectively we do the job a goodly amount of them will escape. I’ll leave Sentius with a small secondary force down where we would have landed to secure the supply line and press on northwest with the main force following the remnants of the Britons’ army. They’ll have no option but to cross the bridge and destroy it and try to hold the river against us; that will be a bloody day. Then, whatever’s left of them will fall back across the Tamesis.’ Plautius ruminated for a while weighing the matter in his mind. ‘Yes, this would work and we could be across the Tamesis within a month and a half of landing, having destroyed this Britannic force in three battles.’

  ‘And then we sit there with our thumbs up our arses for three months, waiting for my brother-in-law, whilst the Britons muster another army?’ Corvinus asked, giving Plautius a questioning look.

  ‘Legate, I would remind you that your brother-in-law is our Emperor and if those are his orders then I have to obey them.’

  ‘They’re not his orders; they came from that jumped-up freedman of his and you know it … sir.’

  ‘It makes no difference; he spoke with the Emperor’s authority.’

  ‘We could have the whole of the southeast under our control by the end of June!’

  ‘Do not raise your voice to me, legate; argue any more and, by the gods of my household, I’ll remove you from your command and write to your precious brother-in-law telling him that I suspect you of treason.’

  ‘I’m sure my colleague was just expressing the frustration that we all feel at the delay,’ Vespasian put in quickly, earning a confused glare from Corvinus. ‘And I’m sure that he understands, as well as any of us, the political necessity behind that delay.’

  Plautius grunted. ‘I’m sure you’re right, Vespasian; it is very frustrating for all of us but that’s how it is. It won’t do to have discord amongst us so we’ll say no more about it, will we, Corvinus?’

  Corvinus jutted his jaw out but then clearly thought better of continuing the argument. ‘No, sir.’

  ‘Good. The supply ships have all been loaded and moved out of the harbour. We begin the embarkation of the army at midday tomorrow; the men will spend the night on the ships and then we’ll sail with the tide an hour after midnight. Any questions?’

  The four legates shook their heads.

  ‘Have your legions and attached auxiliaries parade in full gear, and with seventeen days’ rations issued, in front of the camps at noon tomorrow. Dismiss, gentlemen.’

  Vespasian saluted along with the other three legates and turned to march smartly out next to Sabinus; Corvinus followed with Geta.

  ‘What are you playing at, bumpkin?’ Corvinus drawled in Vespasian’s ear as a slave closed the reception room doors behind them. ‘I would have thought that it would delight you and your cuckolded brother to see Plautius try and remove me from my command.’

  Sabinus spun around, grabbing Corvinus by the throat, slamming him against the corridor wall. ‘What did you call me?’

  Corvinus brought his right arm cracking up onto Sabinus’, breaking his grip. ‘Just what you are.’

  Vespasian grabbed his brother by the shoulders as Geta stepped in front of Corvinus. ‘Leave him, brother! Come away.’ Sabinus struggled for a few moments as Vespasian pulled him back.

  Corvinus smirked over Geta’s shoulder. ‘The truth hurts, doesn’t it?’

  Sabinus seethed. ‘I will have you one day, you arrogant cunt; I’ll bring you down.’

  ‘I find that most unlikely with my sister in the Emperor’s bed.’

  ‘She won’t be there forever, she—’

  ‘Sabinus!’ Vespasian shouted.

  Corvinus scoffed. ‘And just who is going to drag her out? You?’ He abruptly stopped and then smiled knowingly. ‘Or Narcissus? Is that what he kept you behind to discuss the other day? Is that why your bumpkin brother supported me just now? That was quite out of character. Why else would you want me to remain in my command unless it was to give the impression that everything was normal? That oily Greek is moving against my sister and you two are part of it.’

  ‘Don’t be so stupid, Corvinus,’ Vespasian said, pushing his brother behind him. ‘Why would he do that? He has the Emperor’s best interests at heart.’

  Corvinus raised both eyebrows. ‘Really? I suppose that’s true insofar as they coincide with his own; after that, I doubt it. Good evening, gentlemen; thank you for this little chat, it has been most enlightening.’ He walked away; Geta followed him with a scowl at the brothers.

  Vespasian turned on Sabinus. ‘That was very—’

  ‘Don’t tell me, you little shit; I’m well aware of how stupid that was.’

  Vespasian woke just before dawn to the sound of men striking camp. He felt Caenis’ warm body nestled in the crook of his arm and spent a few moments listening to her soft breathing, knowing that it would be a long time before they would share such intimacy again; that night would be spent aboard the ship waiting to take them to the savage island across the sea.

  Nuzzling his face into her hair he breathed in her scent and kissed her tenderly before easing his arm out from under her and slipping out of bed.

  ‘Is it time to go, my love?’ Caenis asked sleepily as he fastened his loincloth.

  ‘My officers are reporting to me soon and then I’ll be busy the rest of the day getting my men aboard.’

  ‘Then we had better say goodbye now. Narcissus wants me to travel back to Rome, with his personal despatches for the Emperor, as soon as you have embarked.’

  Vespasian sat back down on the bed and took her in his arms.

  ‘Will it be a very long time, Vespasian?’

  ‘At least two years, probably more.’

  ‘Little Domitilla will be three or four before she meets her father.’

  ‘That’s assuming that some clay-covered savage doesn’t do for me first.’

  ‘Don’t talk like that, my love, it brings bad luck. You’ll be fine, I know it.’

  ‘I’ve got letters for Flavia, mother and Gaius for you to take back to Rome, if that’s all right.’

  Caenis kissed his cheek. ‘Of course it is. Flavia and I are on very good terms, much to your mother’s confusion; she even has little Titus address me as aunty. Although every time he does so I wish he was calling me mother instead.’

  Vespasian held her tight, unable to reply. He was only too aware of just how much Caenis had sacrificed to be with him. ‘Stay safe in Rome, try and keep away from the palace as much as possible. I imagine that Narcissus’ scheming will escalate now that Sabinus has been so indiscreet.’

  ‘I can’t, I have to be there every day now that I’m working for him, even though he’s remaining here. But even if he and Messalina are openly at war, she wouldn’t be able to bring him down; Claudius relies on him too much.’

  ‘She might try to have him murdered.’

  ‘Narcissus is a very cautious man; he even has a slave taste his food. But even if she was successful I wouldn’t be harmed because I’m no threat to her. And anyway, because I stayed h
idden for so long during Caligula’s reign, I doubt that she even knows my name.’

  ‘Let’s hope that is the case.’

  ‘I’m sure it is. The person who should be worried is Sabinus; Narcissus was not at all pleased.’

  ‘That is an understatement,’ Vespasian said, thinking of the brothers’ interview with Narcissus shortly after Sabinus’ indiscretion with Corvinus. Narcissus had flown into a rage, which had expressed itself with a hardening of the eyes into an icy glare and his voice becoming very quiet and clipped as he tore into Sabinus. The humiliation of being so spoken to by a mere freedman had almost been too much for Sabinus to bear and Vespasian had had to place a calming hand on his brother’s shoulder at the point when Narcissus called him incompetent and threatened to relieve him of his command. It was not until Vespasian had pointed out that Corvinus had absolutely no proof of his suspicions, which were based purely on assumption, that Narcissus calmed down and called for a Praetorian centurion to organise the interception of any courier leaving Corvinus’ camp that night. It was, however, only a temporary measure and they all knew that Corvinus would find a way of alerting his sister to what he suspected. Narcissus had dismissed them with a curt warning that if he had not managed to get rid of Messalina by the time that they got back to Rome then they would find themselves choosing between the options of suicide or murdering the Empress and then being executed for the crime.

  ‘You should go, my love,’ Caenis said, kissing his lips. ‘I can’t bear long-drawn-out goodbyes.’

  ‘Nor me.’ Vespasian stood and slipped his tunic on over his head.

  ‘Sir! Sir!’ Magnus’ voice shouted from the living area of the tent.

  ‘I know, I’m coming.’

  Magnus popped his head through the curtains dividing off the sleeping area. ‘No, you don’t know. Mucianus sent me to get you; we’ve got a massive problem: the lads are refusing to strike the camp.’

  ‘What? That’s mutiny. Who are the ringleaders?’

  ‘That’s just it, sir, there don’t appear to be any; you see it’s not just the Second Augusta, it’s all four legions and all the auxiliaries. They’re united. They realised that when they were ordered to strike camp that meant that it was the real thing, not training, and they don’t like it. They say the island is watched over by powerful gods and full of strange spirits and they won’t go. As the old saying goes, they have no desire for the unknown. The whole army has refused to embark; they won’t go to Britannia.’

  ‘I suggest that you assemble the army and speak to them immediately, general, or I’ll see you going back to Rome in chains,’ Narcissus threatened without any preamble, barging into Plautius’ briefing room, his voice as brittle as ice. ‘And yours is not the only career that will be curtailed.’ He looked menacingly around the assembled legates, auxiliary prefects, tribunes and camp prefects of the army.

  Plautius met Narcissus’ glare with a calm countenance. ‘That would be most unwise, imperial secretary.’

  ‘Unwise? You think it’s wise to let an army of forty thousand men refuse their Emperor?’

  ‘I don’t think that is wise but I do think it unwise to try to persuade them to embark … just now.’

  ‘They have to get on the ships today if you are to sail tonight.’

  ‘We won’t be sailing tonight.’

  Narcissus stared at Plautius, dumbfounded for a moment. ‘Are you telling me, General Plautius, that you are also refusing to go?’

  ‘No, we’re just not going to go tonight; we’ll let the men calm down for a while and then I’ll address them in a few days’ time and we’ll go the day after that.’

  ‘They’re soldiers, they do what they’re told to when they’re told to; not at some time at their convenience once they’ve “calmed down”.’

  ‘I couldn’t agree with you more, imperial secretary, but the fact of the matter is that this is not for their convenience but rather for yours and the Emperor’s and everybody else who wishes to see this campaign pursued quickly and efficiently.’

  Vespasian was forced to suppress a smile as he saw, for the first time, complete bafflement on Narcissus’ normally unreadable face.

  ‘I’m afraid you’ll have to enlighten me, general, as to how delaying the invasion is going to make the campaign quicker; I’d have thought that it would have the exact opposite effect.’

  ‘That’s because you are not a soldier, Narcissus, you are a palace functionary who has as much understanding of military matters as I have of etiquette.’

  ‘How dare you talk to me like that!’

  ‘No, Narcissus! How dare you burst in here and threaten me and my officers, humiliating me in front of them. You may have the Emperor’s ear and consider yourself to be of great substance but you are still a freedman, an ex-slave; without Claudius you are nothing and you know it. You are an irrelevancy who would be dead within hours of your master’s demise, which if this invasion is not a success, will be very soon. I on the other hand come from the Plautii and I won’t tolerate your arrogance any more. So you will listen to me, freedman; yesterday we heard from some Gallic traders that upwards of one hundred thousand warriors were mustering just across the straits.’ He pointed an accusatory finger towards the window beyond which a calm sea gleamed in the morning sun; on it a ship under sail slowly receded. ‘I don’t shy from odds of three to one or even five to one when fighting undisciplined savages, but I think that even you’ll agree that the fewer the enemy the better is a reasonable military maxim, especially when you’re trying to disembark your army. Now tell me what you see out of that window, imperial secretary.’

  Narcissus squinted against the glare. ‘The sea.’

  ‘And what’s on the sea?’

  ‘A ship.’

  ‘A ship? But that’s not just any old ship; that ship is going to make the difference between crossing the Tamesis in forty-five days or thirty days because that ship is going to disperse the Britannic army within a market interval.’

  Narcissus’ bafflement was complete. ‘Nine days! How?’

  ‘Because the very same traders who took my silver yesterday in exchange for information about the Britons are now returning to Britannia; this evening they will be taking Togodumnus and Caratacus’ silver and telling them that our troops have mutinied and we won’t be coming. Once the warriors hear that, they will disband and go back to their farms, which they won’t do if we suddenly appear tomorrow. Now, I would have thought that even a non-military man like you can grasp that if your enemy’s army splits up it will be much easier to defeat him and will cost fewer lives. So, imperial secretary, I suggest you leave the timing of this to me because this has nothing to do with politics; we’ll go on the calends of May. And don’t worry, the Emperor will still be called for in time for his glorious victory.’

  ‘See to it that he is, general.’ Narcissus glared at Plautius before turning and retreating from the room with as much dignity as he was able to summon in the circumstances.

  Plautius turned back to his assembled officers as if nothing was amiss. ‘Now, gentlemen, where were we? Ah yes, the landing beaches; we will still use the new site just in case they leave a force at the original one, although I doubt they will. We’ll land in three waves; Legate Corvinus, you will have the honour of leading the first wave.’

  Corvinus smirked with pride. ‘Thank you, general.’

  Plautius pointed with a stick to a map of Britannia nailed to a wooden board behind him. ‘Your Ninth Legion and its attached auxiliaries will land on Tanatis and secure it. I shall command the second wave consisting of Legates Vespasian and Sabinus’ Second and Fourteenth Legions and their auxiliaries; we shall land an hour later on the mainland at this Rutupiae, as I shall now call it. The Second will muster and then advance immediately to Cantiacum, ten miles inland, taking King Adminios with you. On the first night Adminios will meet with kinsmen who have pledged loyalty to him and take their oath on behalf of three of the sub-tribes in the area whilst his emissaries wi
ll negotiate the surrender of the town. If they’re stupid, besiege it. Clear, Vespasian?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘Good. You will also send your Batavian cavalry, under Prefect Paetus, west to see what’s ahead of us.’ Plautius searched out Paetus amongst the crowd of officers. ‘But you are not to make contact, prefect, just scout, is that understood? I want no flamboyance in my army.’

  Paetus mustered his most serious expression. ‘No flamboyance, sir!’

  Plautius stared at the young prefect for a moment, trying but failing to detect any insolence, before grunting and then carrying on. ‘The Fourteenth will move south, sending out your Thracian and Gallic cavalry on long-range reconnaissance to see if any of the Britannic army remains down there. If it’s clear, you are to leave a garrison at the natural harbour by the white cliffs and then rendezvous with us at Cantiacum no more than three days after we land. One hundred triremes will shadow you down the coast and base themselves in that harbour ready for use later on in the campaign for land and sea operations along the south coast. Whilst they wait their crews and marines will be put to work turning that harbour into a port fit for our purpose; I want warehouses, jetties and a lighthouse. We’ve come to stay, Sabinus, understand?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘Any questions?’

  ‘What if we find the whole hundred thousand-strong army down there?’

  ‘Then you send to me for reinforcements at the speed of Mercury.’

  ‘At the speed of Mercury, sir.’

  Plautius nodded curtly. ‘The third wave will be under the command of Legate Geta. It will consist of his Twentieth and their auxiliaries and the supply ships with the baggage, artillery and one month’s rations. You will be twelve hours behind us to give us time to clear the landing area of transports. Once you’re ashore, Geta, your men will construct a fortified camp in two days, big enough to hold the whole force should we suffer a reverse. This will be the basis of a permanent garrison with a port. Then you will join the Second and the Fourteenth at Cantiacum on the third day.’

 

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