by James Mace
“Appearances aside,” Vitruvius continued, “he inspires little from the men, in either loyalty or contempt. Such indifference is even more damning than being hated. Yet, of all the men who have claimed to be ‘Caesar’ since this year began, the only one who has inspired the men of this legion is Vespasian. He is a true leader, and the only one among the Four Emperors who has actually fought with his soldiers in battle.”
Their discussion was interrupted when a legionary opened the large flap of the principia tent. “Beg your pardon, sir, but an imperial messenger has arrived.”
“Very well, show him in,” the general directed.
“It’s actually a ‘her’,” the legionary said.
Primus called out, “Lady Vale!” as the young woman entered the tent.
“General Primus,” she said, with a short bow of respect. She nodded to Vitruvius who returned the gesture.
“So, do you come from Vespasian or from Rome?” Primus asked.
“From Rome,” Aula replied. “I have a message for Emperor Vespasian from his brother, the noble Flavius Sabinus. However, as there were no transport ships available, I am required to travel by land. Sabinus has another messenger waiting in reserve, in case he is able to find a vessel to take him across the sea before the winter storms make them unnavigable.”
“I suspect Sabinus will not be sending any more couriers once we cross into Italia,” Primus noted. “No doubt, Vitellius is already keeping a close watch on him.”
“That is why I will not be returning to Rome,” Aula asserted. “My subsequent orders are to report to you and see how I can be of assistance. Which is why I have avoided any Vitellian forces along the way. I came through Ariminum and was stopped by an auxiliary cavalry patrol. They thought to detain me, seeing as how I am employed by Flavius Sabinus. It took a few veiled threats for me to outtalk those halfwits. Yet, I suspect if an officer with one of Vitellius’ legions discovered me I may have been arrested as a spy, even though Vitellius himself is well aware of my dispatches. But, yes, Sabinus agrees this will likely be my last mission for him for the time being.”
“Might I ask what the letter to Vespasian contains?” the general asked.
“Of course,” Aula replied, producing a scroll. “The one addressed to you is almost an exact duplicate.”
Primus snickered quietly as he read the contents of the scroll, then handed it to Vitruvius. “Our friend, Sabinus, is both prudent and cautious,” he remarked. “He implores us to find a peaceful solution to the conflict, while vaguely stating the power of the Vitellian Army.”
“He had to be vague,” Aula explained. “If this message were intercepted, it could be construed as him attempting to pass on intelligence to Vespasian’s army.”
“Not to worry, we have plenty of eyes on their forces,” Vitruvius spoke up.
“So I gathered,” Aula said. “Sabinus knows their two commanding generals well. Caecina is competent, though his loyalty is dubious at best. Prior to Bedriacum, he was defeated twice by Suetonius Paulinus. Something he may wish to atone for. All the same, he seems less enthralled and quite disillusioned by serving Vitellius.”
“Something we may be able to exploit,” Primus observed. “I cannot say I’ve ever considered him or Valens friends, but they have done respectably well thus far. At least in their battles against Otho’s legions. And for Caecina, there is no shame in being defeated by a general of Paulinus’ caliber.”
“A pity Otho was foolish enough to place his own brother as commander-in-chief of his forces,” Aula noted.
“Yes, and it cost him dearly,” Primus noted.
“Paulinus is friends with Sabinus, and I have spoken with him as well. He told me, after his pair of victories over the Vitellians, Otho ignored him and deferred to his brother on further prosecution of the war. Their forces were separated from each other, with Titianus completely defeated.”
“There are those who say that such remarks are Paulinus’ wounded pride speaking,” the general observed. “I know he also told Vitellius that he deliberately lost the campaign for Otho. I think everyone, including the usurper, knew this was a dubious statement.”
“I was at the house of Sabinus when Paulinus told him about Vitellius refusing his request to assume command a legion. While he has not been exiled or arrested, Paulinus is not trusted by anyone within the Vitellian regime. They suspect if given a command, he would simply hand his forces over to Vespasian.”
“A distinct possibility,” Primus replied. “But enough about General Paulinus, as he can do little to help us at this time. And since Sabinus has tasked you with aiding me, there is something you can do for us. I was going to send a dispatch rider east to find Mucianus and his army. If you are heading in that direction anyway, I will give my dispatches to you.”
“However I can be of service,” Aula stated.
“The letter I will draft to Mucianus will not be as cryptic as those given to you by Sabinus. Fear not, the lands east of here are firmly loyal to Vespasian. Unfortunately, many of the courier stations along the main roads have been abandoned, so there is no way for you to pass your message on or to even change horses.”
“I understand. I have sailed by ship from Rome to Caesarea and back again. I can certainly make the journey by horse this time.”
“It will take much longer,” Primus said. “What can be done in two to three weeks by sea, will take you three to four months by land, even with a horse. Once you locate Mucianus, feel free to acquire shipborne transport to Caesarea and hasten on to Vespasian.”
They discussed a few additional matters. Primus gave Aula what he thought were the most logical roads she might find Mucianus’ army traveling along. The courier then dismissed herself to tend to her horse, as well as her supper. Primus ordered a slave to have her evening meal prepared for her from his own stores. As soon as Aula left, Vitruvius nodded his head towards the tent flap.
“Who is she, sir?” he asked. “I heard you call her ‘Lady’ Vale.”
“She is the daughter of a renowned former cavalry officer,” Primus replied, “Aulus Nautius Cursor.”
“I know his reputation well,” the master centurion said. “He earned the Grass Crown at the Battle of Braduhenna…the same place where my father was killed.” His eyes were suddenly transfixed on the remote past, his expression darkening. He was a very young boy when his father, a centurion pilus prior with Legio XX, fell in battle. A shame, if the Valeria Legion sided with Vitellius and he had to fight against the eagle his father had served under. He quickly shook his head, ever fighting to suppress the innumerable feelings of loss that had haunted him since his earliest days. “If she is the daughter of a patrician, what is she doing here dressed as an imperial courier?”
“I don’t know the entire story,” Primus said. “I do know her father settled in Britannia and helped found the town of Aquae Sulis. Cursor was never the traditional patrician and, in fact, was only granted membership in the senate about seven years into the reign of Claudius. It would seem he had no interest in simply using his daughter as a political pawn. Instead, he gave her the freedom to decide for herself how to serve Rome.”
“That’s absurd,” Vitruvius scoffed. “Her father appears to have spent too much time among the uncivilized Britons.”
“I didn’t say I understood it,” Primus replied. “Gods know my own daughter will never be seen cavorting around the empire dressed as a mere courier, with a sword strapped to her hip. Still, given Aula Vale is a member of the patrician class, and well-connected, makes her useful as more than a mere errand girl. And if she is loyal to Sabinus, we can assume she is loyal to Vespasian.”
The remainder of the afternoon was spent going through tedious, yet crucial logistical details. A number of non-military administrators were given the tasks of keeping the army fed and supplied, establishing communications lines, and preparing for the grim task of handling potentially large numbers of wounded. The commander-in-chief did not mince words when he stated
that, if both armies met each other at full strength, it would be a bloodbath. By the Calends of October, Antonius Primus would be ready to cross the border and renew Rome’s civil war.
Aula returned to Primus’ principia the following morning. She left soon after, stuffing several messages into her leather bag. As she walked through the camp, she saw the red vexilation flag that read in gold letters, Legio X, Cohort V . She knew Vespasian had sent a detachment to reinforce Primus’ division, though she laughed at the improbability that her dear friend’s cohort would be among them.
Chapter X: Reckless Initiative
Flavian Camp, Emona, Pannonia
28 September 69 A.D.
***
The attached cohorts from Judea occupied the remains of what had once been a vexilation fort, previously used by the Fifteenth Legion. The surrounding region consisted of impassible mountains of extreme elevation. Some of the men from Legio XV made offhand remarks about ‘coming home’. The fort had not been occupied in over eight years and was in a dilapidated state of disrepair. Rats and other vermin had infested many of the buildings, and a handful of despondent squatters were driven out of what had once been the detachment headquarters.
“By Jupiter’s cock, who shit in here?” an irate centurion shouted from one of the former offices, as the filthy peasants hurried out the door to the principia.
Barracks buildings were swept out, with legionaries cramming into the small rooms that once housed squads of soldiers. Those not quick enough to find such accommodations were forced to set up their tents in and around the fort.
Not knowing when they would receive the order to commence the invasion of Italia, the men looked to find distractions wherever they could. The large number of wine merchants and brothels in the region provided an ample way to relieve soldiers of both anxiety and coin. Such ‘camp followers’ sprouted up, seemingly out of nowhere, wherever an army was posted. Many reckoned these same people, just a few months prior, were selling their services to both the Othonians and Vitellians. Soldiers from some of Otho’s former legions confirmed this, as they recognized both merchants and prostitutes alike.
Gaius had spent the night in the tent of one of the thousands of ‘ladies of pleasure’ that surrounded the vast encampment. After their arduous journey from Caesarea by sea, followed by many days of forced marches just to reach General Primus’ camp, the night of erotic pleasure came as a much-needed reprieve.
Since he and his century had not been quick enough to claim one of the fort’s buildings, and not wishing to sleep in a tent with the other principle officers, he paid the woman a couple of extra coins to allow him to share the rest of the night in her humble camp bed. She had been rather generous and allowed him to have his way with her one more time after he woke the following morning.
“It’s been a pleasure, my dear,” he said, as he donned his tunic and sandals.
“Believe me, love, the pleasure was all mine,” the woman replied. She lay on her side, still naked. She giggled. “If your army remains here for a few more weeks, I could make enough to buy my own villa and retire.”
Gaius laughed as he slung the baldric of his gladius over his shoulder and belted his tunic.
“May Venus and Fortuna smile upon you,” he said with an exaggerated bow, as he left the tent.
He gazed up at the sky and took a deep breath in through his nose before walking towards his cohort’s section of the vast camp. This region of Pannonia was notorious for its nearly ceaseless rains, especially in the fall. And yet, on this day the skies were clear and peaceful.
“Are you following me all over the empire?” Aula’s voice caused Gaius to jump. He turned and smiled as he saw her. His face turned several shades of red, betraying his inner thoughts, causing Aula to laugh playfully. He hoped she did not notice the womanly stench from the brothel. He was certain he reeked.
“Are we at a loss for words?” she asked. She walked over and wrapped her arms tight around him. “I thought you’d be happy to see me.”
“I…I am, believe me!” Gaius replied, returning her embrace. He was glad he was not wearing his armor, for it would have impeded him from feeling her body against his. The hardened optio, who had endured enough brutality and tragedy to last a hundred lifetimes, suddenly felt smitten. It was a rather boyish infatuation with this young woman, who he’d known since the time he could walk. His companion from the night before completely forgotten.
Gaius then noted a somber change in Aula’s demeanor. “What is it?”
“I passed through Ariminum on my way out of Italia,” she explained. “Your brother is governor of the city, or at least he was.”
“What do you mean ‘was’?”
“Vitellius has given him command of an auxilia cavalry regiment,” Aula explained.
“He always wanted to be a soldier,” he said. “The last time I saw him was before I departed for the legions. He said he envied that I was able to make my own path in life. It would seem he has finally been allowed to make his.”
“I’m sorry, Gaius.” It was all Aula could think of to say.
“There will be many who must face their brothers,” Gaius reasoned, though his expression was now one of depression and regret. “And I am certain there will be fathers who will draw blades against their own sons. It’s been ten years since I last saw Lucius. I only hope when we do meet again, it will be after this hellish issue is decided and not on the battlefield.”
With tens-of-thousands of combatants on each side, Gaius knew the chances seeing his brother were remote. He also knew, when time came to face the Vitellians in battle, he would be watching every mounted officer among the enemy’s cavalry, always questioning if Lucius was the man who led them. He decided to not dwell on the issue, at least for the time being.
“Another mission from Sabinus?” he asked.
Aula nodded. “And General Primus. Tomorrow morning I will begin my journey towards Thrace, where I hope to find Mucianus’ army as soon as possible. Primus grumbled that they better not still be plodding their way through Asia Minor. I imagine it will be two weeks before I reach Byzantium. And if Mucianus hasn’t crossed over yet, who knows how long it will take me to find them? After all that, it will take an additional three weeks, perhaps a month, to reach Vespasian in Caesarea.”
“By that time, this whole thing could be over,” Gaius observed. He added with a chuckle, “You might reach Vespasian only to find that seaborne messengers have already informed him of either our defeat or victory.”
“The thought has crossed my mind,” Aula remarked. “If I find Mucianus anywhere near Byzantium, and if the city and its port proves friendly, I hope to gain passage by ship to Caesarea.” She took a deep breath and sighed. “Who would have thought the little girl you grew up with would be getting sent from one corner of the empire to the other and back again?”
“You know I’ve always loved you.” Gaius’ face turned red, horrified at what he’d just blurted out. His words stopped Aula midstride, causing her to stumble. The two stood facing each other in an awkward silence for a moment. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”
“One should never hide what is in their heart,” Aula replied. “I don’t know that I can say the same. You are very dear to me, Gaius, but I don’t know that I can give my heart to anyone, at least not right now. Tomorrow is not promised to any of us, especially with our entire world in upheaval. You might be killed in battle, while I could run afoul of Vitellian loyalists and be strangled as a traitor.”
“Both distinct possibilities,” Gaius concurred. He was gazing at the ground now and fumbled to find his next words. “I don’t know why I am so awkward around you. I’m no stranger to women, believe me!”
“Yes, well I hope I am more than someone you just want to fuck.” Aula’s coarse choice of words seemed to startle both of them. She laughed and shook her head. “I am clearly spending too much time around legionaries! You are all influencing my speech, in ways that are not exactly be
coming of a patrician woman.”
“One profane slipup does not diminish your status as a lady,” Gaius said. “And, yes, you are far more than someone I simply wish to take into my bed. But I have always understood it could never be between us.”
“Father was a bit unconventional, so I cannot say he would have disapproved of our families joining. However, the moment you joined the legions an impenetrable wall came between us. But when you left I was still a girl and hardly worthy of your affections.”
“And now?” Gaius asked. “Your family was elevated into the senatorial class three years after I left. Am I the one who is made unworthy, because of my status as a plebian soldier?”
“Hardly!” Aula replied. “You know I am less concerned with a man’s profession than who he is as a person. It is a strange concept, I know. There were many who questioned my being sent to Rome to be educated rather than betrothed to another influential family. If the patricians back home ever knew I was acting as a humble courier, it would cause quite the scandal.”
“That it would,” Gaius said. He took solace in knowing that, should the worst happen to either of them, at least nothing was left unsaid.
“I am concerned about your mother,” Aula said, changing the subject. “She worries so about both you and Lucius. I suspect you don’t know she and your father have been to Ariminum as well.”
“I did not. I wonder if they would have stayed had they known I was this close.”
“I don’t know,” Aula replied, shaking her head. “I spoke to the deputy governor of the city. He said Metellus and Marcia left Ariminum before Lucius did. I would have liked to have seen them again.”
“So would I,” Gaius remarked. “Mother bravely refrained from shedding any tears in front of me before I left. I heard later that she was nearly inconsolable for a time.”
“By Minerva, how long has it been?” Aula asked.