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Authors: Robert Fabbri

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‘The Catuvellauni and the Trinovantes. They arrived this morning and Corvinus formed the legion up in front of the camp; their leaders came forward to speak with him under a branch of truce and I translated for them. They said that they had come to lay down their arms; once Togodumnus died they had no chieftain in the east who was still willing to resist the invasion and they would therefore submit to Rome. Corvinus
sneered at them for being weak and said that he wanted to win Camulodunum, not have it given to him; he had them executed in front of their men. I protested and he knocked me cold when the Britons charged – when they saw what Corvinus had done they abandoned all thoughts of surrender. That’s all I know.’

‘Well, he’s had his victory, and a bloody one at that; the road to Camulodunum is open.’

Verica looked bitter as he eased himself up to sit. ‘It was open this morning and not awash with blood.’

‘Will they still be willing to surrender?’

‘Yes, they’re truly beaten now; but resentment for this will run deep and many of the warriors will go west and join Caratacus; Rome will have a long hard war against him.’

Sabinus shrugged. ‘We were always going to have a hard fight against him; a few thousand more warriors won’t make that much difference.’

Vespasian shook his head. ‘It’s not so much that; it’s the fact that the news will spread that we don’t accept surrender. The tribes will think that they have no choice but to fight to the death; Corvinus has just cost us many Roman lives.’

‘When those guards are found I want the skin off their backs, primus pilus,’ a voice growled, entering the tent.

‘Yes, sir!’

‘In the meantime a cup of wine to celebrate a good morning’s work, gentlemen?’

‘Thank you, legate,’ three voices replied.

The brothers looked at each other. ‘Time for our chat with Corvinus,’ Vespasian whispered. ‘Magnus, stay here and only come out if there’s a fight.’

Magnus nodded as the brothers walked through to the main part of the tent.

‘Bumpkin! And the cuckold!’ Corvinus exclaimed, outraged. ‘How dare you come into my praetorium uninvited!’

‘How dare you ignore the Emperor’s orders!’ Vespasian strode to within a pace of Corvinus. ‘And how dare you not accept the surrender of two tribes when it was freely offered!’

Corvinus’ nostrils flared; his three officers tensed and put their hands on the hilts of their swords. ‘What honour or glory would I have had in taking their surrender when my legion hasn’t seen any part of the fighting so far? But then you wouldn’t understand that, would you, coming from a grubby little family whose taste for glory has never been whetted because it has conspicuously failed to achieve any honour.’

‘Whereas you consider it honourable to steal the glory that the Emperor has reserved for himself?’

‘The Emperor’s a fool!’

‘Whatever the Emperor is, he’s also your brother-in-law; and the people surrounding him know full well how you intend to use that position and what you plan to do with his stolen glory.’

Corvinus’ dark eyes narrowed. ‘Supposition. No one can prove that I was not acting in Claudius’ best interests.’

‘That would be the case if Plautius were dead, but he’s not.’ Vespasian enjoyed the look of surprise that Corvinus did his best to conceal. ‘When you said goodbye to him with such finality, thinking never to see him again, what you didn’t know was that your friend Geta was lying only fifty paces away. He’d tried to lure Plautius to his death by sacrificing his cavalry but the general survived; no doubt Geta would have tried to murder him some other way had he not been severely wounded and sent back to Rutupiae. We’ll never know; but what is certain is that warrant that you hold from the Emperor giving you command of the invasion in the event of Plautius’ death is no more than an unexercised warrant. You’re not in command, Corvinus, therefore you have committed treason and Plautius has sent us to take you into custody.’

Corvinus went to draw his sword from its scabbard. Vespasian’s left hand clamped around his wrist, arresting the motion, whilst his right swept his
pugio
from his belt and pricked it under Corvinus’ chin, forcing his head back. Corvinus’ three officers were not so impeded and three glinting blades flashed up to threaten Vespasian’s throat.

‘I would consider your positions, gentlemen,’ Sabinus advised, walking forward, his gaze falling on two of the three
men; behind him Magnus rushed from the sleeping area, his sword drawn. From outside came the good-humoured clamour of a victorious legion returning to camp. ‘Vibianus, I’m pleased to see that you’re still primus pilus, and Laurentinus, I imagine that you’re on your last few months of service and the Ninth will be needing a new prefect of the camp soon.’ He looked at the youngest of the three. ‘Scaevola, I’m sure you feel you owe loyalty to Corvinus for making you his thick-stripe tribune but I would advise you to put that aside for the moment and listen.’ The young tribune’s eyes flicked nervously over to Sabinus for an instant and then back to Vespasian; his sword stayed firm as did those of his fellows. ‘Plautius will be here very soon with at least one legion. You three have only two choices: try to kill us and then carry on being a party to your legate’s treason or hand Corvinus over to us. Choose the first option and you will find yourselves leading your legion against fellow Romans, as Plautius will have no option but to use force to ensure that the Emperor’s orders are obeyed. But choose the second and you’ll receive the thanks of a grateful emperor.’

Scaevola pressed his blade harder against Vespasian’s throat. ‘Why should I trust you?’

‘You’ve got no reason to; but Vibianus and Laurentius, you know me and you know the pride that I have in the Ninth Hispana, my first legion when I was a military tribune and my first as a legate. Do you think that I would want to see this legion disgraced? You both served under me for a couple of years; did I ever do anything that would make you doubt my word? Narcissus has set this up to expose Corvinus’ treachery; but at the same time he made me legate of the Fourteenth so that there would be somebody whom you trust to reason with you, someone whom you know has your best interests and those of this legion at heart. Believe me, gentlemen, your new legate has lied to you and has put your lives in danger.’

Vibianus and Laurentius looked across Corvinus into each other’s eyes; after a moment they both gave the slightest of nods. Their swords slowly moved from Vespasian’s throat and pulled back to Corvinus’.

Scaevola’s face tightened with indecision and sweat formed on his battle-grimed forehead.

‘They’ll be in here, sir,’ Paetus shouted, bursting through the entrance, causing the young tribune to start; his sword jerked and Vespasian pulled his head back, blood trickling from a straight cut on his throat.

‘What the fuck am I going to tell the Emperor and Narcissus?’ Plautius roared, storming in after Paetus. ‘You said that you’d stop this treacherous shit before he did too much damage.’

Vespasian looked down in horror at the blood on the sword blade; as he did Scaevola’s hand released the hilt and it clattered to the wooden floor. Over Corvinus’ shoulder Scaevola’s eyes glazed and blood seeped from between his lips. Vibianus and Laurentius held a rigid Corvinus motionless with their swords pressed to his throat; Scaevola slid to the floor with a knife protruding from the back of his neck.

Vespasian checked the wound to his throat and found to his immense relief that it was superficial; he moved his hand down and eased Corvinus’ weapon from its scabbard and chucked it away. ‘I’m sorry, general, we arrived too late.’

‘Too fucking right you did.’ Plautius marched over to Corvinus and, without hesitation, slammed his fist into the centre of his face, crushing his nose and sending him collapsing onto Scaevola’s body. ‘That feels much better.’ He stared furiously, neck ligaments bulging, at Vibianus and Laurentius. ‘Get that dung heap out of my sight and keep him secured until the Emperor arrives to sentence him to death.’

‘Yes, sir!’ they replied, simultaneously snapping to attention.

‘Which one of you killed the tribune?’

‘I did, sir!’ Vibianus barked.

‘Put yourself on a charge, primus pilus.’

‘Yes, sir!’

‘Charge dismissed; now fuck off out of here.’

Vibianus and Laurentius crashed salutes and hurried from the tent dragging Corvinus with them. Vespasian nodded his thanks to Vibianus as they left.

Plautius turned his malevolent gaze onto the two brothers.

‘I saw what happened; I was with the cavalry on the hill. It seems that we have them beaten; they’ll probably ask for terms tomorrow.’

‘They tried to surrender this morning but Corvinus had the envoys murdered,’ Verica said, hobbling out of the sleeping area.

Plautius looked in shock at the old King and then slumped down onto a folding stool and wiped the sweat from his brow. ‘What a fuck-up this is and none of it will be Narcissus’ fault. What’s Claudius going to do now when he gets here apart from have Corvinus executed and march into an already occupied town?’

‘Don’t occupy it, then,’ Vespasian suggested. ‘If it surrenders tomorrow that doesn’t mean we have to march in immediately.’

Plautius paused, frowning, and then broke into a grin. ‘Of course, the fool has never been to war, he won’t know what it looks like. We could just dress up a few prisoners, like Caligula did when he pretended to invade Germania, kill them as we march into the town and then have Claudius take its surrender and he’ll feel that he’s done something glorious. He’ll be happy, Narcissus won’t be able to complain and, more to the point, I’ll be in the clear. I’ll send for him to leave Rome right away.’

‘What do we do in the meantime, sir?’

‘I’ll despatch envoys from the Britons who’ve already come over to us to all the tribes and ascertain which chieftains will be willing to pledge themselves to the fool. Sabinus, I want prisoners for Claudius’ triumphant entry into Camulodunum; take your legion west for a month making our presence fully known and then return here with some captives. The Ninth will now remain here where I can keep an eye on them. I’ve left the Twentieth building a bridge across the Tamesis and securing the southern bank from Caratacus. The Second I’ve left the other side of the river ready to head south. So, Vespasian, it now falls to you and not Corvinus to take Verica back to his capital and then secure the Isle of Vectis so that there’s no threat in your rear next season when you start to push west along the coast; do it by negotiation with the King if you can – we need to preserve our troops. But if that fails then invade.

‘I expect Claudius to arrive soon after the calends of September. I want you back here by then with Vectis secure, Verica in place and your legion established as the main force in the south of Britannia.’

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER XX

‘M
Y NEPHEW WILL
yield,’ Verica assured Vespasian, ‘and once he does he will be completely loyal to Rome.’

Vespasian tightened his grip on the rail as the trireme was again buffeted by a gust of wind in the choppy channel between the mainland and the Isle of Vectis. ‘Do you think so? He’s shown no inclination to be so in the last month of negotiations.’

‘Once honour has been satisfied he will accept Rome.’

‘But to satisfy his honour a good many of my men will have to die?’

Verica shrugged and wiped the drops of salty spray from his face. ‘It’s always been the way of things. Many more of his warriors will die for his honour than will legionaries.’

‘I’m sure they will; but why do it? Why didn’t he just capitulate when I sent envoys offering good terms?’

‘Because I told him not to.’

Vespasian turned to the old King, startled. ‘You did what?’

‘I did what I knew to be the best for everyone as I intend to make Cogidubnus my heir. My people’s blood has been shed fighting for Caratacus at the crossing of the Afon Cantiacii; Cogidubnus and his warriors weren’t there because of his and Caratacus’ hatred for each other. If Cogidubnus were to surrender to Rome without a fight my people would never accept him.’

‘They accepted you back and you came with us.’

‘True, but they did so only grudgingly. Now that Caratacus has been defeated and has fled west the Atrebates and Regni confederation are no longer under his dominion. They have accepted me back as their rightful King who was usurped by Caratacus. However, they resent the fact that I came with Rome and didn’t stand with them against her.’

‘So to secure your position you will make your nephew a hero for resisting Rome and then adopt him as your heir and fuck all the lives that will cost.’

‘Yes, you could put it like that; but the important issue is that my kingdom will be stable and when I die, which will be very soon, there will be a strong successor who will be supportive of Rome. You wouldn’t like the Atrebates and the Regni revolting next year or the year after, cutting off your supply lines as you move west, would you?’

‘No, I wouldn’t.’

‘If this battle doesn’t happen then that’s what you’d have. Both my sons are dead, legate, and my natural heir is my sole grandson, named after me, but he is only in his teens; he’s too young and, besides, he’s lived with me in Rome for the last three years so he doesn’t know my people and they won’t accept him.’

‘Doesn’t he mind being passed over for his cousin?’

‘I haven’t told him yet; but I hope that he will see that it’s for the best. I think he’ll try to make his way in Rome. Along with me, he was given citizenship and equestrian rank and now speaks fluent Latin. At the moment he’s serving as a thin-stripe tribune on Plautius’ staff, perhaps you’ve come across him? Tiberius Claudius Alienus is the Latin name he’s taken.’

‘Alienus? Yes, I’ve seen him; he is young.’

‘And obviously not strong enough to hold my people together under Rome.’

‘And Cogidubnus will be if he can demonstrate that he stood up to Rome?’

‘Yes; this small battle and small loss of life is a price worth paying for that, don’t you think?’

Vespasian looked round at the hundred and fifty men of the first century of the depleted first cohort, kneeling on the deck, wet with spray, looking in apprehension at the island’s shore, now less than a mile away, which, even in the thin dawn light, was visibly defended by a large force. Behind them, clutching their bows, knelt the two contubernia of Hamian auxiliaries that Vespasian had allocated to each ship. How many of these men
would be dead within the hour to secure Verica’s kingdom? After a few moments contemplating the hardened faces he realised that, pragmatically, it did not matter how many would die now so long as the goal was achieved and Verica’s chosen heir could be seen as a man who bowed to the superior might of Rome after testing that strength for himself. Rome’s position in Britannia would be stronger for it.

BOOK: Rome’s Fallen Eagle
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