Legatus Legionis: Book Two in the Gaius Claudius Scaevola Trilogy (32 page)

"No takers," came the immediate reply.

Gradually, the predictions came to pass. Somehow an elephant emerged from the trireme, and somehow it landed in the mud on its feet, and to everyone's relief, its sheer power enabled it to walk to the shore. It was, however, a rather grumpy animal, and it was not entirely pleased with the cold wind. However, when it saw the immense heap of hay, it became less agitated.

Four elephants were landed safely, and the fifth was at the side of a trireme when the inevitable thunder came. The elephant leaped, the trireme almost sank, but somehow all was well. The mud was sufficient to at least slow an elephant, and by the time it reached the bank, it was sufficiently calmed when it saw the other elephants and the hay. Gradually more barges arrived and more elephants were unloaded. The Legates were about to go back to their legions when a runner appeared, who brought a message from Claudius to inform the legions that since the weather was so bad there would be no need for a formal welcoming ceremony, although he would like to see the Legates individually in his tent. A very large number of senators and so on had also arrived from Rome, and would presumably wish to have assistance in putting up tents, and moving property. Claudius had left instructions that each of the legions should contribute equally, and should charge for their services according to the scale he had nominated. All such money would go to the invalid soldiers fund, and all enquiries should go through each legion's camp Prefect.

"Surprisingly efficient," the Legate from the fourteenth muttered.

"Claudius learned from the best," Gaius remarked, and when he saw the puzzled looks, "Claudius frequently helped Augustus with the paper work." Then when he saw even more puzzled looks, he added, "That kept him out of Livia's sights, and that helped keep him alive."

"I can see that would be an incentive for keeping amongst the scrolls."

"We can do him a favour," Gaius added, and when he got the inquisitive looks in response, he continued, "Make sure the men know the reason they're not on parade for the next few hours is because Claudius has their interests at heart. It might make them cheer with more enthusiasm later on."

"The men of the
Gemina
will cheer," The Legate of the fourteenth grunted, "but I take your point."

At this point the two men got up, wrapped their cloaks more tightly, and marched off towards their tents.

* * *

"S so we m meet again!"

"I am honoured,
Princeps
."

"Y you must advise me."

"On what?" Gaius asked in surprise.

"Wh what you think sh should happen next." Claudius seemed even more excited, and his stammer became worse. "S S Senators h have c c come to watch!" he explained.

"Of course," Gaius nodded.

"Th they're n n not very impressed w with the elephants," Claudius said, his face somewhat downcast. "Th they've b b been talking t to V Vespasian b b before coming here, and V v Vespasian says th they're m m more trouble than they're worth. And h he says we've wasted time. W we should g g get on with it, g g go and face them, b b before it g gets harder. Th the senators seem to agree."

"As a general rule," Gaius nodded, "Vespasian is correct. Elephants have always been more trouble to the attackers than the attacked after Scipio."

"Oh," Claudius said, his voice downcast. "C c can't we even f f find a small use f f for them?"

"We can do better than that," Gaius grinned. "Most great commanders put their mark on the battle by finding the proper way to use something, or the fatal flaw in the opponents' use of something. Here is your chance to demonstrate the correct use of elephants, and show up the senators as a bunch of military nincompoops."

"I knew I c c could rely on you!" Claudius smiled with relief. "I kn know I'm n n not much of a g g g eneral, but . . ."

"But Rome needs to think you are," Gaius nodded back. "What you should do, in my opinion, is to get the senators to publicly declare their position, then you say you can do better than that. Now, I've had a map drawn up. Our scouts assure me this is accurate. I shall tell you what I would do." He then outlined the strategic situation as he saw it.

"As I understand the position," Gaius concluded, "the senators think you should get out there and storm Camulodunum. Tell the senators that would be bloody and difficult, and while Rome would prevail, you would like to try to achieve victory with a minimum of losses of Roman life. Tell the troops as well, and watch the senators climb down.

"Now, I would never go straight to Camulodunum," Gaius continued. "There are a number of villages scattered around here," and he pointed to the map, "and I would suggest that instead of advancing directly on Camulodunum, you take care of some of these, and don't use the elephants. This will isolate Camulodunum and break the back of the Catuvellauni before you have to deal with Caratacus. Also, you may be able to take advantage of Caratacus' temper."

"H h h how so?" Claudius asked excitedly.

"When he loses something, he seems to lash out without thinking. Also, his troops will have relations and property in those villages, and they'll be uncontrollable. Either Caratacus will have to use them, or they'll desert. With any sort of luck once he sees his troops dispersing and his kingdom disintegrating before his eyes he'll come out and fight. That will save us having to lay siege to his capital."

"I th thought you said he should t take the initiative?" Claudius asked in a puzzled tone.

"Taking the initiative means finding a perceived weakness and working on it," Gaius responded. "Marching out to meet the enemy head-on merely means you've decided to turn up and get on with it."

"And if w we have t to lay siege?"

"Sometimes you can't help it," Gaius shrugged. "If the enemy won't make a mistake, you then have to go out and fight it out, because you have to defeat him sooner or later. But we might as well give Caratacus every opportunity to go wrong."

"Very g good," Claudius nodded, "Th then we advance?"

"Yes," Gaius said. "There's an open area here, the city's there," he said, marking on a map, "and it's got what's described as a river behind it, but it is more like a sluggish stream, from what I gather, with swamp around it in lots of places. Whatever you call it, although the Celts could in principle retreat over there, it gets them nowhere, and effectively that direction is useless. There's a swamp to the north, which leads to the river, and to be fair might be an escape route for them, but nobody can fight there, and similarly there's a massive tangle of brambles, shrubs and small trees to the south, which is effectively impenetrable. That means we have to march up from the west."

"Th that's what V V Vespasian said in a l letter t to me."

"The Celt's weakness," Gaius continued, "is that the town is made almost entirely of wood. Send a message to Caratacus that we're coming, and we'll bring our catapults up from the west, and we won't lay siege, but simply burn their town to the ground and roast the lot of them if they don't surrender. If they do surrender, no lives will be lost."

"W won't they f fortify outside the town?" Claudius asked. "V Vespasian says that b b because of the time we've wasted, th th they'll b be d doing that already."

"And that's where we build up Claudius as a great military commander," Gaius grinned. "Everybody else is criticizing you for allowing them to do what you really want them to do, and are encouraging them for all you're worth to do it."

In response to Claudius' look, Gaius continued, "This is where the elephants come in. Everybody assumes the southern thicket is impenetrable, and in the normal course of events they'd be right. But elephants will get through that with no trouble, and make tracks for other troops. What happens is that you will start the frontal attack with the artillery, then you march your troops up to where the archers can get their arrows into the fortified position. The Celts will believe that is where the attack is coming from, because they can see it. However the real attack comes from the left rear, the elephants carving out the way. My guess is that with no fortifications in that direction, with elephants and a legion coming from a direction for which they have no preplanned defence, the Celts will simply give up. Those in the centre or right will quickly realize that the battle's lost, and they'll run as fast as they can while they still can. Instead of a bloodbath of attrition, it could end up a strategic rout."

"I kn knew you w wouldn't let m me down," Claudius said. "Y y you realize that I'll h have t to take the credit?"

"I know," Gaius said. "The future of Rome is of more importance than my . . ."

"I w won't forget," Claudius promised, then, suddenly looking very self-satisfied, he said, "I h have a s s surprise for you."

"Oh?"

"Vipsania has p pleaded with me. I'll leave you here f for a year," Claudius said, clearly very pleased with himself, "th th then you come back to Rome to b build your engine."

"What?" Gaius said in surprise.

"I'll p pay for c craftsmen," he said, "and y you can m make me a new weapon!"

"It may not make a weapon," Gaius warned, "although it may help make weapons, by getting more metal from mines, or it may help move soldiers, or . . ."

"Or it m may g get m more money for the treasury," Claudius offered.

"That's certainly possible," Gaius said, "as long as I can make it work."

"I'm sure you c c can," Claudius nodded, "I'll b b build a place where you and others c c can work and where m more new th things can be made. You'll m make the new Library of Rome the centre of the world of l learning!"

Gaius stared at him. Could this really happen? "Thank you,
Princeps
," he bowed.

"I I knew you'd be pleased," Claudius smiled.

It was only as Gaius left the tent that he remembered the prophecy. He was not supposed to return to Rome until it was in ruins. Well, so much for that stupid prophecy!

Mail arrived with the reinforcements, including another letter from Vipsania.

My Darling Gaius,

By now I know you have had success. Rome is all abuzz with the success, and the news that Claudius himself intends to take the field. Some are saying that Claudius won't make any difference, in fact he will probably make things worse, but I know that won't happen.

It's not that I have great faith in Claudius' military ability; as it happens, I know Claudius hasn't either. On the other hand, we both have complete faith in yours! He knows his limitations, and before he left, he summoned me to a dinner. To my complete surprise, there were just the two of us; even Messalina was somewhere else. Claudius confided to me that he intended to rely on your judgment, and while he knew that it was wrong for him to take the credit for your skill, the greater good of Rome demanded it. He promised me that he would reward you richly when you returned to Rome. Now I know you don't think you will return to Rome before it collapses, but I think you should put that stupid prophecy out of your head; there is absolutely no way in the world that Rome is going to collapse anytime soon.

What might happen, though, is that if Claudius doesn't win, there will be plots, in fact I believe that right now Marcus Vinicianus and a number of other Senators are getting ready to replace Claudius. I actually mentioned this to Claudius, and he smiled and said that he was confident that I was right, but I was not to worry as the particular Senators had been invited to accompany him to Britain and have a grandstand view of the major battle. That way, if he lost, which he was sure you wouldn't let happen, the Senators could face the angry Celts themselves. He actually said that he wished he could get some of them into the line and see how courageous they really were when they actually had to fight an enemy that was trying to kill them. As an aside, if you can think of any movement that scares the daylights out of those senators, as likely as not Claudius will approve.

This was an interesting move, because Claudius told them that if they did not come, he would assume they bore him considerable ill will, and when he returned victorious, those who had refused to come and acclaim him would be considered to have been plotting and would be dealt with accordingly. He gave a long speech which, apart from the stuttering, could have come directly from Tiberius towards the end of his imperium, and in many ways it left the Senators with even less choice than from some of the worst demands from Little Boots. They were appalled, and prostrated themselves, swearing allegiance, and so on, so, almost out of Augustus' books, Claudius smiled and told them of the gracious efforts he had made to ensure their time in Britain would be instructive. The Senators would be placed in legionary camps, and would see the style of legionary life, indeed if they wished, they could experience it. I doubt there will be many takers on the last offer.

On more ordinary matters, everything is going well on the ranch; the crops are in, the animals are thriving and we should have a good year. We even got some money sent to us by the Legate of the Fulminata, one Lucius Vibius. Apparently while you were there you arranged for some traders to sell beer according to your recipe, and they were supposed to pay so much per keg. Well, they seemed to think you had forgotten all about it so there was no need to for them to pay, but apparently Vibius knew about the deal and persuaded them to pay up. As he told them, he knew roughly how much beer had been made because he knew how much grain they had used. If they did not own up to the correct amount, he would assume they were also cheating Claudius of his taxes. The implied threat worked wonders.

Britain is now on everybody's lips in Rome. There are bets on everything, when the battle for Camulodunum will start, which legion goes first, even if it will even get underway. You will be very famous when you get back.

May the Gods of battle, and, for that matter, your Pallas Athene, be with you and protect you.

Your loving Vipsania.