Athene's Prophecy (Gaius Claudius Scaevola Trilogy)

by Ian Miller

  "Thank you, sir.'

  "When you rode out on your first expedition, on your fine white horse, do you know what the men were thinking?" Petronius smiled.

  "Another young stuck-up prat from a rich Roman family," Gaius admitted.

  "What makes you think that?"

  "The men told me," Gaius admitted ruefully.

  "They did?" a surprised Petronius asked.

  "Well, not exactly," Gaius admitted, "but I could see it on their faces."

  "Well, they don't think that now," Petronius nodded. "You gained a lot of respect by handling the cohort the way you did, and you gained more by riding around while the battle was going on. Why did you do that? Curious to see death?"

  "I wanted to see whether I had to deploy reserves," Gaius protested, "and I wanted to encourage the men. I didn't want them thinking I was lying around at the rear . . ."

  "Good," Petronius nodded. "Another valuable reason for being visible is that nobody wants to be part of the line that gives way in front of their commander, so they fight that much harder, which is something like your second point." He paused, then added, "I gather you also joined in?"

  "I'm a reasonable archer," Gaius replied, "and we'd reached a point where, unless something went wrong, we would win. Then it almost looked as if something could go wrong, so I sent in the last of my forces. There weren't very many of them, so . . ."

  "It certainly made an impression on the troops," Petronius interrupted. "I gather most of your arrows struck home, and I also gather you got their leader."

  "It seemed a good thing to do at the time, and . . ."

  "Well, your men noticed, and that helped make them redouble their efforts. Getting wounded gained a lot of respect too, because you don't get that sitting on your arse at the rear. Don't let this go to your head, but your men are starting to compare you with somewhat more famous men."

  "It could be a lot worse," Gaius replied in a slightly embarrassed tone.

  "It probably will," Petronius snorted, "but in the meantime you seem to have shown some ability, and you also seem to be touched with flair or luck. Can't have too much of either. Now, time for you to reward your troops. In addition to your recommended decorations, you may announce phalerae for the entire cohort, and the cohort and auxiliaries may carry the honour of citizenship."

  "Thank you, sir," Gaius said appreciatively.

  "And you, young Claudius, will receive a corona aurea, to be worn additional to other coronae as a battle decoration."

  "Thank you again, sir."

  "And of course, the award of citizenship is worn by you as well. Yes, of course you're already a citizen, as are many of your soldiers, but the award shows you've earned it for your troops, and that and a battle crown will guarantee no troops will ever again think of you as some young stuck-up senatorial prat."

  "I've got to admit that was a burden I'm glad to be rid of," Gaius nodded.

  "You know why Vitellius sent you out?" Petronius asked. He smiled at Gaius' look of discomfort, then nodded and added, "You've been drilling your troops very hard. The others have been sniggering at them."

  "I don't think that was too much," Gaius protested.

  "Neither do I," Petronius nodded. "Me, I might have had even more. But that's not the point. Now your men will show their phalerae to the rest of the legion, and guess who will be feeling the best?" When Gaius said nothing, he continued, "I think a slight additional favour is due. Why don't you take your cohort up the Barada in the middle of summer. Drill them in forest and mountain skills."

  "Forest skills?" Gaius queried. "I thought that desert fighting was more likely."

  "It is, young Gaius," Petronius smiled, "but you probably haven't realized how stinking hot it gets around here in the middle of summer. It's much cooler up there, and there's a lake if you want to practice water assaults, or if you merely want to go swimming."

  "I see," Gaius suddenly realized what was being offered. "On behalf of the men, thank you sir."

  "That will give you even more respect, and make the men want to do even more for you next time," Petronius smiled. "That means I can afford to be more generous in using your services. Next time the Nabateans get out of hand, I'll send you down with maybe three cohorts. Do well then, and you could be on the way to a legion."

  As Gaius left the Governor, he could have almost flown. A legion! Of course first there had to be a vacancy, but . . .

  Chapter 33

  Timothy had excelled. He had found three master craftsmen, and Gaius had in his hands three brass bolts with wing nuts. The nuts screwed easily onto their respective bolts, but only onto that bolt, and as Gaius noted wryly, two were left hand threads and one was a right hand one. They should all be the same.

  Timothy quietly pointed out that these were difficult enough to make as it was.

  "Not," Gaius replied quietly, "if we use one of these to make moulds to cast others."

  "And what will you get to make the moulds?" Timothy asked caustically, "bearing in mind it has to be strong enough for you to get the master out without breaking the thread, and must stand the molten metal, and there can't be air bubbles in the thread marks?"

  "Oh!"

  "Oh?"

  "I hadn't thought of that," Gaius admitted.

  "I already asked one of the tradesman," Timothy admitted. "It's not easy to see the way around those problems."

  "So what do we do?"

  "The tradesmen will make them, for a price," Timothy said in a slightly shifty tone, "but they won't tell how they do it."

  "Then haggle, and meet their final price," Gaius shrugged.

  "This could be very expensive," Timothy pointed out. Gaius recognized an element of priming in Timothy's tone.

  "I'm sure with a Greek haggling for me," Gaius smirked, "I'll get good value."

  Timothy suddenly looked apprehensive, but then an idea seemed to occur to him. "I may not have much leverage," he said, "unless you don't need them."

  "No choice," Gaius frowned, "unless you can think of one?"

  "Depends on how many you want?" Timothy said cautiously.

  "And what's that supposed to mean? What exactly do you know?" Gaius' eyes bore into Timothy. This conversation was, Gaius realized, quickly coming to its point, as seen by Timothy.

  "Nothing, yet," Timothy quickly backed away.

  "Then get to the point."

  "If you want ten of these things, you'll just have to pay for them, but if you want thousands, and you want to know how to make them . . ." He paused.

  "Why is it," Gaius mused, "that I suspect a cunning Greek scheme?"

  "What I was going to suggest," Timothy said quickly, "was that you could offer a prize for the method. That way, you'd get everyone thinking about it, and . . ."

  "I'd have the most expensive bits of metal ever," Gaius mused.

  "Then buy what you need," Timothy shrugged.

  "Twenty thousand sesterces," Gaius muttered. "Offer that."

  "We'll get something," Timothy smiled to himself.

  "I rather fancy you think you will," Gaius shook his head.

  * * *

  Gaius soon felt he was correct in his assessment of Timothy. He was some way away from the house where Timothy was living when he heard the sounds of raised voices. At first he hurried, thinking Timothy might need help, but as he got closer he realized that while he might need help, it was not the sort that Gaius would offer. That, however, did not stop Gaius from being curious.

  He crept into the room, and immediately felt foolish. A herd of elephants could have strolled through without drawing attention to themselves. Timothy and one of the local craftsmen were crouched over a small bench. Timothy had one of Gaius' nuts forced into the end of a cleft stick, and he was using this as a lever to try to force the nut onto what seemed to be a highly bent rod made of lead. The other man was trying to clamp the other end of the lead rod onto the bench. As Gaius entered, the stick broke, and Timothy swore.

  "What on earth are you d
oing?" Gaius asked in amazement.

  Timothy looked up guiltily, the other man somewhat fearfully.

  "It's my responsibility," Timothy conceded, "if I've spoiled this nut. I'll make it up to you, and . . ."

  "I still don't know what you're trying to do?"

  "Well," Timothy started. "What I thought was, if we had a nut made of hard metal, and screwed it onto soft metal, it would cut a thread. That way, one nut would make several bolts all the same."

  "A whole lot of leaden bolts," Gaius nodded ruefully, "that melt when you least need it, and bend, and . . ."

  "The bolts don't have to be made of lead," Timothy explained. "It's just that the cutting ridges have to be stronger than the rest."

  "If this had worked," the tradesman said, "I'd get you one of these nuts made out of hard steel, that would cut brass, or maybe even iron."

  "So you'd have a lot of bolts and no nuts," Gaius smiled.

  "You could do the same with a bolt," Timothy pointed out. "Use it to bore out a thread in . . ."

  "Yes, of course," Gaius nodded. He stared at Timothy. This could work! Then, back to earth, "So, what's wrong?"

  "All he's done," the other man shrugged, "was fill the nut up with lead. Then it's jammed so tight it won't go anywhere."

  "I undo it and clean that out," Timothy shrugged.

  "About ten times a turn," the other man muttered, "and that's not the worst of it."

  "And what is the worst?" Gaius asked. He was not quite sure what to do. This looked to be a silly idea, but Timothy was trying to help him.

  "Look at the way he's cleaning that out? He's burring the ridges! Do you know how long it took to cut those? I tell you, this is . . ."

  "You've been paid?" Gaius asked.

  "Well, yes, but . . ."

  "Then I wouldn't worry about it."

  "Still no need to be stupid," the man grouched.

  "Meaning?"

  "He can get a little way before the lead sticks," the man said, as if to a simple child, "so if you get the lead out then, you can keep going."

  "He wants to cut grooves inside the nut to let the lead out," Timothy explained, "but that would ruin the nut."

  "Cut your grooves," Gaius shrugged.

  "It'll wreck the nuts," Timothy warned.

  "Take the bolt that went with it," Gaius added, "and do the same with it. See if you can make more pairs. Then if it works," he added, looking at the tradesman, "can you cut similar parts in iron?"

  "I can do it with the hardest steel," the man said proudly, then added quickly, "Of course it will cost . . ."

  "I know that," Gaius smiled. "Just don't get too greedy." He paused, then added, "or else." He smiled inwardly as he saw the look of fear. He then grinned as he added, "I suppose Timothy's told you what is going to be paid if this works?"

  "Of course I have," Timothy added quickly. Too quickly, Gaius thought. As if he wanted to stop Gaius from going further. He had probably not told the real total. Yes, Timothy would be pocketing some and sharing the rest.

  "Then the cost of making these iron tools should come from that," Gaius shrugged, "because you can't prove you can do it otherwise. Oh," he added, after a pause, "Timothy, make sure your man knows that this has to be proven beyond reasonable doubt. I would think at least three pairs of cutting tools should be made. What do you think?"

  "If you wish," Timothy replied cautiously.

  "And of course, he's going to have to do the bulk of the work. You can't make any of those."

  "I'll add some more from my share," Timothy promised.

  "I should hope so too," Gaius nodded, then he turned and left.

  Chapter 34

  A year passed without incident on the military front, except that the remaining Tribunes, seeing Gaius' decorations, or alternatively, having watched in envy as his cohort had the two hottest months in the luxuriant regions of Lake Barada carrying out mountain drills, decided that they would also ensure more intensive drills within their cohorts. The legion began to resume its efficiency, even if its Legate did not. Timothy produced the steel tools, then found they were useless because the nut-derived master could not be held in place long enough to do any good, while the bolt-derived master could not be forced to turn. Making these had taken longer than expected, and using them proved more difficult than expected, although, Timothy admitted, it should not have been that surprising. Metal was strong, cutting metal would require a lot of force, so a means of holding everything in place and getting enough force was required. The holder had to have a much longer strong lever. Once they knew what to do, they would get there.

  The news from Rome was increasingly depressing. The Princeps was accused of becoming increasingly erratic, although, as Gaius noted, the accusation was not entirely fair. Until now, the Roman living in Rome had been spared taxation: Gaius Caesar had the outright impertinence to introduce taxes that would treat Rome on par with the remainder of the empire. That was extraordinarily unpopular, but, as Gaius noted, not entirely unreasonable. Some of the rich complained that these taxes removed their ability to live according to their station. Little Boots, having heard this complaint at the end of a particularly lavish feast he had put on to impress them, leaped to is feet and announced, "There is no need for you to live like this. A man should be frugal, except he be a Caesar!"

  That was hardly the statement with which to win friends, which illustrated Little Boots' problem. He felt neither shame nor scruple about demonstrating the power he wielded, and he showed little restraint in wielding it. On the other hand, he was very intelligent, and he realized the effect this must be having. Accordingly, he lived between two extremes: one was a strange state of exultation at the unrestrained enjoyment this power brought, and the second was a total state of depression arising from the fear of what might follow.

  And what might follow was more likely once the largesse ran out, as it would if he did not acquire more money. Accordingly, more effort was made to gather revenue, and in this Little Boots could not restrain himself from flouting his superiority. While giving a particularly long speech in the Senate he switched to holding an auction, naming all the bid prices himself. The nod of a sleeping Senator was taken as a bid, and one Senator woke up to find he had made thirteen quite outrageously expensive purchases. As Little Boots remarked, that would teach him to pay attention and not go to sleep in his presence. The money was paid because the Senator was too afraid to even suggest he had been asleep.

  Little Boots was making more effort to find treachery. Gaius' father was being accused of non-patriotic behaviour, and Gaius rather suspected there could be truth to the accusations. His father would consider Caesar's erratic behaviour would make the Republic increasingly attractive. He would overlook the avarice of the average Senator, and that the Republic only worked when the Senators were working for the benefit of Rome, rather than for themselves. Caesar's efforts to make people admire him led to money going through his hands like water, so being wealthy and being under suspicion for plotting was a very undesirable combination. His father was obviously under some pressure, for he sent details of tunnels he was excavating into a hill behind the family home. If everything went wrong, much of the family wealth would be buried there, protected by traps, for Gaius when he returned home.

  Lucilla, in the meantime, was to be married to a Flavian named Quintus. Quintus Flavius Secundus was a sound man, his father said, interested in neither politics nor the military. He had, however, built up quite a considerable fortune through selling pork and trading in corn. He was a man of refinement, and most importantly, the Flavians seemed to be on reasonable terms with Little Boots.

  The letters from Claudius were becoming more frequent, and, in their own way, quite strange. Claudius, so he said, envied Gaius. Or more to the point, he envied Gaius' being away from Rome. Rome was filled with intrigue, but even more importantly, with fear. There was reasonable evidence that the upper German legions had been on the verge of revolt, while it seemed that the Germans were
crossing the Rhine and raiding villages under Roman protection at will. The German legions were in relatively poor shape, and their commander, Gnaeus Lentulus Gaetulicus, was lax.

  So Caesar went north and decided to impose discipline. The methods were stern but standard: furloughs were restricted, there were route marches all over the place, there was wood cutting, road making, ditches were dug, there were mock battles, and there were practices of river crossings. As it happened the only river was the Rhine, and these crossings were variously interpreted as invasions, or exercises, but whatever they were, they did not last long in German territory.

  Caesar also suspected that the leaders were planning revolt, and part of his visit was to root this out. It was never clear what role Marcus Aemilius Lepidus had, but he had been Drusilla's husband, and he may have thought he had some claim to a vacant Principate. He and Gaetulicus probably were plotting, but their plots were rather amateur, for Caesar arrived and their legions did nothing. In any event, the two were brought back to Rome and secretly executed.

  The next exercise was either an exercise in complete stupidity, or, as he, Claudius, suspected, a means of humiliating the northern legions. Caesar announced to the most ill disciplined legion that they would march to the coast to invade Britain. With fewer troops than the great Julius had failed with, and decrepit boats, the legion refused to board. Gaius then taunted them, questioning whether they were Roman soldiers, or whether they would rather stroll along the beach collecting seashells. Such was the enthusiasm for the venture that soldiers began doing just that! Gaius apparently then called the whole venture off, apparently to the general mirth of the Britons. Caesar had deliberately taken the troops he could trust the least, and despatched them on this expedition to test their loyalty. When, as expected, they refused to embark he had them collect seashells. He, Caesar, could withstand the ridicule, but the legions could not.

  There was also the question of the German invasion. Before going on the disciplinary exercise, Gaius Caesar had announced that the Empire could be expanded by conquering the Germans, an objective of the divine Augustus that was only dropped after the lamentable efforts of his General, Varus. So, Gaius Caesar would take up the challenge, or at least that is what he said. As such, when he arrived, direct revolt would have been difficult, and by the time the discipline was underway, Gaetulicus had lost control. That could be thought of as well-thought-out strategy, however Caesar did not want Rome to start thinking about plots, even failed plots. So, having left Rome to "sort out the Germans", Caesar realized that he had to take something back to Rome. Unfortunately, as usual his vanity got the better of him, and he decided to return in triumph. He announced victory over the Germans, he added Germanicus to his names, and he paraded a number of Germans before Rome to prove his conquests. Close examination showed these to be Gauls, disguised as Germans.